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#i don't know why i put the sport question i hate the sport question.
coolprettyleo · 3 days
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my soul has changed? - will smith au
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wc: 1.4k
tw: depression, suggestion of an ED, awkwardness? mean girl.
will smith x oc celebrini sister!
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april celebrini was in a point of her life where everything felt still. she was pretty sure she was suffering from depression and it was a cycle she didn't know how to get out of.
she would wake up, go to school, go to work, and then sleep. she was lucky if she fitted a meal in between that meant she had lost tons of weight.
she had been a pretty healthy teen, she played hockey up until high school alongside her brothers; but when the time came to play college hockey, she got no offers. contributing to her depression.
it was a sport she held so much love and dedication, she couldn't understand why she hadn't been good enough? I mean her brothers were good enough, they got college offers. macklin was even projected to go first overall, so why couldn't she?
those were thoughts that were constantly haunting her mind. if she found something to forget them they would flood back in, like if they wanted her to be a lifeless doll she had been feeling like.
her family had been really worried for her. she had finally seen her brothers after a year, at the NCCAA playoffs and it only caused them to worry more.
flashbacks
april knew that macklin and aiden were gonna bombard her with questions as soon as they were alone. they could hardly recognize her. growing up she was always a smiling person with a big personality and now she was about forty pounds lighter and was a ghost of the person she used to be.
"april what's going on" macklin said shutting the door behind him.
"what do you mean"
"cut the bullshit. I know your not okay, you barley answer my text anymore, what's wrong"
"it's nothing mack-"
"no it's not nothing, maybe I can fix it-
"you cant 'fix' it"
"and why not-"
"because I don't know what wrong with me!"
that had been about two weeks ago. she just didn't know what to tell her family. she really didn't understand why she had been feeling that way.
she was currently at work where she was a barista in a cute coffee shop. she honestly loved working there, she had got the job when she was in high school and had kept it till college. seeing as she didn’t move far away for college, choosing to stay close to her parents.
she often wondered if she might be happier if she moved away just like everyone else did, just like her brothers did. but it would always end in her telling herself; that it's not worth dwelling on.
it was currently six am and at this time of day there weren’t many customers. the cafe was always busy mid day when people were looking to find somewhere to study.
so she was surprised when she turned the open side around, to find a boy waiting outside to come in. a boy who looked a lot like will smith.
april wasn’t an idiot to hockey, she kept up with it a fairly good amount, so she would have to be living under a rock to not know the guy who dominated the ice at her brothers rivalry school.
that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like she didn’t know him.
he reached for the handle and took a look at her before turning as red as a tomato and blushing,
“hey, are you guys open?” he asked nervously, mentally slapping himself because he just saw her turn the sign around, to ‘open’
“uhm yeah I’ll be with you in a sec” she told him.
will couldn’t help but think her voice was cute. she had a rasp to it that made him want to give her everything she’s ever wanted.
april finished up, putting the coffee too brew and turned to the counter.
“okay! order when your ready”
“uhm. i actually never been here before… any recs?” he asked after a moment nervously scratching his neck.
“well I get a dirty chai, but considering my brothers hate it, you might hate it too… I guess you might like a frap?” she told him, a little too monotone.
“yeah okay” he told her again nervously. he found her to be breathtakingly beautiful.
he paid and stood back as she got to making the drink.
“you from here?” will asked hoping to make small talk.
“uhm kinda. I was born in Vancouver but moved here when my dad got a job”
will panicked. oh god was she still in highschool
april must of saw the worry on his face because she added,
“that was a couple years ago, im eighteen now” she said smiling at his face. something she didn’t do often anymore.
“oh, i’m eighteen too”
“oh yeah, what brings you to san jose, school?” she said innocently knowing very well he was drafted here and was most likely here to work on development.
“no. I”m came to meet with some people here. I go to boston college” he answered. april starting to not feel so bad because she saw he didn’t want to right away say he was a hockey player.
“far from home huh”
“yeah, i’m literally across the country from everything and everybody i’ve ever known” he told her wanting to slap himself. did she need to know that!?!
“i’m sorry. it’ll get easier” she said remembering her brother had been homesick too but utimatly started feeling better after some time-- as she handing him his drinks and gave him a sympathetic face.
“yeah i hope so, i should be moving here soon, if everything goes right” he said as he took a sip.
“hey this is good!” he said taking another sip as april smiled. something that will thought looked amazing on her.
april smiled at him remembering the fact her brothers liked that drink. boys were so typical
“i’m glad… and hey— if you ever need a friend in town my names april” she told him as she held her hand out to him to shake.
will starred at it for a moment before he quickly met her hand.
“will” he told the girl with a smile.
they were cut out of there moment when two customers walked in.
“I should get back to work. i’ll see you around will” she told him as he smiled a nodded and walked right out.
say something! ask for my number! do anything!
april felt really dumb after she basically just presented herself in a silver platter to the boy and he didn’t finish his part in asking for her number. he had definitely rejected her in the nicest way someone possibly could.
meanwhile will got into the Uber with a gitty feeling. she seemed really cool and having someone to hang out with other than his teammates was going to be so nice.
he was midway into the meeting with some general managers when he realized he didn’t even ask for her number.
“oh my god” he mumbled as he came to the realization
"i'm sorry?" one of the GM's said confused.
“uhh— I said I was excited to join the franchise!” he covered up, feeling like an idiot.
hopefully she was still there after the meeting.
the meeting had gone a little to long for his liking and as he raced down to the coffee shop he hoped she was working a long shift.
he opened the door to see a blonde girl who looked old but yet looked young, and a taller boy with curly hair working behind the counter.
“hi. is april working today?” he said breathlessly
the blonde eyed him for a moment before smirking,
“I don't recall an april ever working here...my name samantha though” she said with a face that will knew was a face of someone who was lying.
“yes there is, she helped me earlier-"
“if your here to file a complaint against her, I can totally help you then,” she said
“no she was great— wait, you said you didn’t know an april-“
“your looking for april” the other barista cut in
“yeah she was here earlier, i was hoping she was still here”
“she got off like two hours ago but i can give you her number!” the curly haired boy told will. he was one of aprils friends and he wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity for her.
“you totally can’t do that!” the blonde girl said in a nasally voice.
“shutup samantha. go take candy from a baby or something” he sassily told her.
she rolled her eyes before walking away to wipe a table down.
“sorry about her, here’s her number— good luck!”
“thankyou so much” he told him as he thought about what exactly to text the pretty girl.
both april and will not knowing the epic love story they were about embark on.
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hi guys! i hope this is kinda good, dont feel shy to send in ask and au thoughts… i like never get any but im so open to it!!
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callisteios · 1 month
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i made a character uquiz. i 100% promise you that you will get a character you know AND like
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racinggirl · 3 months
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that's my girl
Lando Norris fic - requested
My inbox for requests
a/n: it took me a bit longer as I have been quite busy this last week, but it's hereeee! I hope you like it, I have to say I love badass Y/N a lot, so thank you for the request! It's a bit shorter, but we need some variation in life, don't we? Let me know your thoughts! It's not proofread, so be aware for any minor mistakes, if there are some. Lots of loveeee. Don't forget to send in requests! I love all the requests I've gotten so far 🫶🏼
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‘’What kind of snacks do you want?’’ You asked your boyfriend as you were preparing some somewhat healthy snacks before he would go live on Twitch. You were filling up a bowl with Maltesers because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t like those? You then decided to grab a knife and cut the cheese and cucumber to make the tray snacks somewhat healthier.
‘’Can you lay on the tray?’’ Lando wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to tilt your head when he planted soft kisses on your neck. ‘’You already had that snack not too long ago, mister Norris.’’ You teased, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his hands making its way under your shirt, close to your bra.
‘’Nah, ah.’’ You put down the knife and took both his hands in yours, moving them down and placing them on your hips before reaching back for the knife. Your action caused him to groan, and you simply smirked as you felt how much he needed you, because let’s be honest here, it was impossible to not feel him through his jeans.
‘’Grapes, mango?’’ You continued, focussing back on the tray of deliciousness in front of you. ‘’Chocolate covered strawberries.’’ He replied, walking to the fridge. ‘’Yeah, ehm, about those…’’ You bite your lip as you looked over at the – way too perfect – McLaren driver, who happened to be your boyfriend.
‘’No, you ate them?’’ He asked, turning 45 degrees to look at you with puppy eyes. ‘’Oh stop it! You ate my piece of cake the other day!’’ You laughed, feeling his hands on your body as he tickled you. ‘’Lando! Stop!’’ You managed to breathe out in between your laughter.
‘’You ate my strawberries!’’ He exclaimed; his arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to somehow escape his grasp. But he was strong, of course he was, he was a Formula One driver.
Talking about his job, you were proud of him. The two of you had been dating for a few years now, the world only finding out in your 3rd year of dating each other. You had no idea how because you never purposely tried to be secret about it. You never went out in public, never really posted about one another on your socials, either. You only really started doing that when people noticed your relationship.
You were almost done with your degree now, though. Meaning you had more time to come to some of his races. You loved going there, not only to support your boyfriend, but also to learn about all the behind the scenes of the sport. It was something that fascinated you ever since you started dating Lando.
However, you tried to stay out of the camera’s as much as you could. You never held hands when you walked through the paddock with him; if you walked through the paddock with him. Most of the time you arrived after he did because you either had to finish some online work in the hotel room, or because you wanted to stay out of the spotlight.
You never really enjoyed being in front of the camera’s, hence why you were so invested in all the behind-the-scenes stuff. It wasn’t because you weren’t confident enough, not at all, because you were, and that’s something Lando always admired about you, especially when you started to receive hate. You just never thought being in front of the camera suited you, those cameras around you, people asking questions, it just annoyed you, and you decided you didn’t want to take a part of it.
It didn’t mean you never supported him, though. You were always there for him, and he knew. He never complained, he never told you you weren’t supportive, no. He loved how your relationship was different than the ones from all the other WAGS, he felt like he wasn’t sharing you with the entire world, that you were just his, and that’s exactly how you felt, too.
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‘’Good evening chat! Long-time no see, ey?’’ You heard Lando’s smile through the words he just spoke, waving at the camera as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at you, his eyes gliding over you before quickly shooting you a wink. You laughed and rolled your eyes at his action, simply knowing the chat would comment on his wink.
‘’I’m good, enjoying the off season as much as I can.’’ He smirked. ‘’Aren’t we, babe?’’ He asked and you got up, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’I for sure am.’’ You winked before walking to the kitchen to get your snacks.
You always were seated outside of the camera’s view. As much as you loved staying out of the cameras at the track, you did the same whenever he streamed. You never did it purposely, though. You never hid away from the cameras; you simply never purposely were in front of them.
‘’Grabbing snacks!’’ You yelled from the kitchen when you heard Lando read the comments. ‘What’s Y/N doing?’ and ‘Where’s your girlfriend going?’
‘’She’s getting snacks, chat. You won’t believe it, but we actually prepared those for tonight.’’ He smirked, sipping his water as he read through the comments. ‘’We?’’ You asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. ‘’Right, sorry chat, my lovely girlfriend Y/N prepared the snacks.’’ He said, watching you placing the tray of delicious food in front of him.
‘’I’m just missing one snack on here, but sadly there’s not enough room on the tray for that.’’
‘OMG HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT’
‘HAHAHAHA Lando naughty naughty boy’
‘DUUUUUUDE LANDO WHAT LMAO’
You sat down next to him, your legs over his as you grabbed a Malteser from the tray. ‘’You’re very original with your jokes tonight, Norris.’’ You smirked, reaching for your phone before you opened TikTok, keeping yourself entertained when Lando continued his stream.
He loved this about you, he loved the fact that even though he was live, streaming and being in front of cameras, you never backed down. You never changed when the cameras were there, you always stayed yourself. That was probably the thing he admired most about you, and things he definitely learned from you.
As the hours went by, the tray of food was nearly empty. You got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get something to drink, get some more snacks and so on. Lando got up to go to the bathroom for the second time this evening, leaving you alone with chat.
You kissed his lips before he left the room, you simply deciding to pop up in front of the camera this time. You read some messages, smiling as they told you you looked beautiful. ‘’Aw, thanks guys, or girls, that’s sweet.’’ You replied, leaning your chin on your hand as you continued reading a few more comments.
The second you heard him coming back in the room, you commented on a question in the chat, Lando sitting next to you with a smile on his face. He loved it when you interacted with his fans, which you sometimes did. It’s not like you were completely offline when it came to the fame he carried with him, you just never really bothered to become an influencer like some others did.
‘’Nah, ah, Norris, they are asking me questions now.’’ You teased, holding your hand up when he started to talk again.
‘HAHA Y/N’s such a vibe’
‘Yeah Lando, we’re chatting with your girl now!’
He simply chuckled, pecking your lips when you looked at him and he then enjoyed the scenery he saw in front of him.
After a while, you got up from your chair, going to the kitchen to refill your glass of water for the fourth time that evening, and made your way back to the room when you heard your boyfriend reading some comments out aloud.
‘Y/N doesn’t love him, she never holds his hand in the paddock, what a supportive WAG.’
You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, and just as Lando was about to say something to defend you, you put your glass of water on the table in front of you.
‘’Last time I checked, my job title wasn’t ‘WAG’. I’m an engineer, not a runway model.’’
Lando looked at you, amazed, proud, and smiling like an idiot. ‘’You heard her, chat.’’ He smirked. ‘’That’s my girl.’’ He whispered happily.
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The end of the stream was nearing, and you got up to head to bed. ‘’Goodnight, babe, I’ll see you in a bit.’’ You whispered before placing a kiss on his lips, smiling against them as he returned the favour. You glanced over at chat one last time, feeling Lando’s hand on the back of your upper leg.
‘’Next time I’ll open the ‘WAGs Handbook’ to catch up on some of my duties.’’ You smirked at the chat. ‘’Goodnight chat, sleep tight.’’ You blew them a kiss before walking out of the room, heading straight to bed.
Not long after you positioned yourself in the king-size bed Lando had in his bedroom, you heard the door opening; your boyfriend making his way to you. ‘’You’re amazing, please never change.’’ He whispered and pressed his lips on yours, firmly.
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Later that season
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insipid-drivel · 8 days
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Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap
I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!
Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:
-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.
Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.
Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.
-Horses are stupid/have no personality.
There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.
My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.
Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.
-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.
Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.
Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.
-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.
At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.
The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.
Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.
Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.
So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.
-Big Horse = War Horse
Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.
More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.
Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.
-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.
Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.
Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.
When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!
-Horseback riding isn't exercise.
If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.
Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.
-Horses aren't affectionate.
Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.
-Riding crops are cruel.
Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.
I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?
Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.
-There's only one way to ride a horse.
Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.
Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.
-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.
This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.
So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.
-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.
This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.
There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!
Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.
(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)
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Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..
He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.
Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.
His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.
It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.
Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."
Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.
Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.
Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...
He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.
Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.
Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.
Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."
On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.
He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.
Joel's a tease.
He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.
Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.
His sense of humor is... peculiar.
("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")
You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.
Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.
Reciprocity's big on him.
Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.
Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.
Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.
Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.
Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.
Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.
One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.
(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)
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thursdaygxrls · 9 months
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thin ice — one
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part one | part two | part three
summary — she didn’t handle the sports section of the campus newspaper, but apparently, she did this week. interviewing hockey players was easy, though—unless one of those players happened to be peter parker.
pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader
disclaimers — i don’t own peter parker. and pls don't come for me with the accuracy of this situation i'm begging
warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, sewer slide jokes (very briefly), possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited
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“You’re joking. You’re pulling the biggest prank I’ve ever seen, you are the impractical joker,” she huffs out, her eyes wide as furiously clicks her mouse, “I’m gonna die. I’m writing the note tonight—farewell, my lovely!”
“Woah, okay,” MJ, her roommate, had only just entered the room when she was bombarded with a sudden rant. She didn’t even have time to take down her ponytail of thin, red braids before her eardrums were assaulted.
“I mean it.” Spinning her chair, she meets MJ’s eyes.
“I literally just got here,” MJ plops down on the bed in front of the desk, “Care to tell me why you’re writing that note?”
“I’m a dumb, dumb girl, that’s why,” she groans in response.
“We already knew that.” MJ’s words only cause the girl in front of her to shoot daggers with her gaze; “Sorry, sorry. Why are you a dumb, dumb girl?”
“God, okay, so,” she lets out a loud sigh, “Eli is gonna be gone for the rest of the month—Europe or something, good for him. Anyways, they needed someone to cover his assignments for him until he gets back, and I volunteered, but, like, only to be nice, y’know? I did it as an obligation. But…”
“But?” MJ pressed.
“I just got an email, and it’s me,” she grumbled, “They’re putting me on Eli’s assignments.”
“Hm, I see,” MJ’s lips curl into a frown as she gently rubs the girl’s arm, “Too much work?”
“Oh, no, my stuff’s easy,” she waved her off, “Just reading the poetry submissions. I mean, it can be exhausting, but it’s not too bad.”
“Then what is it?” MJ cocks her head.
“Eli…Eli does sports,” she shuddered. MJ couldn’t contain the loud laugh that slipped out, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.
“You’re worried about sports?” She giggles, her eyes twinkling.
“It’s not funny!” She smacks MJ lightly, “Sports aren’t unbearable or anything, but, like, why me? I don’t know enough! I’ll screw it up, I’ll lose my spot, they’ll stick me back in—”
“Relax,” MJ grabs her shoulders, bringing her closer, “First off, no, you won’t lose your spot, we both know they’d be losing their minds without you. Second, they wouldn’t just throw it on you if they thought you’d give them bad work, right?” She eyes MJ almost suspiciously. There’s a momentary stare-down before she relents.
“I hate that you’re right,” she sighs, spinning her chair around. MJ stops the spin by putting her hands down on the arms of the chair.
“Thought you’d be used to it by now,” she giggles, “So, what do you have to do?”
“I don’t know.” Is the mumbled reply.
“You didn’t even look?” MJ laughs again, “You were losing your mind, and you didn’t even know what you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry that I’m sensitive,” she huffs. Her gaze moves back to the laptop before her. The email is open on the screen, so she begins scrolling through it, MJ reading the words over her shoulder. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she gets to the end.
“Fuck this,” she almost slams her laptop shut, but is stopped short by MJ.
“Slow down!” The redhead slaps her hand out of the way to read the rest of the email.
The ESU hockey team had made it to the NCAA Division I Men's Ice Hockey tournament for the first time in six years—and they were doing damn good. Eli had been tasked with interviewing the team captain as well as a few other star players, but, of course, it was no longer Eli's job.
"Oh, come on,” MJ rolled her eyes, “They gave you a Google Doc with questions, all you have to do is ask them and write down their response."
“That's the problem, I have to ask,” she shivered.
"You've done interviews before!" MJ was ready to smack her.
"With professors! And cool artsy people! Not hockey guys," she cringed, “I bet half of them are in a frat. They're probably gonna be assholes and tell me I have cooties."
“Are you twelve?” MJ groaned, “You sort of lucked out with this—half the work is already done for you! You don’t need to write up any questions!” A sigh left her lips as she took on a more comforting tone: “If it makes you feel any better, Harry is on the team.”
Ah, Harry. MJ had been seeing him for a little over a month by now. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. A little full of himself, but nice enough to talk to. Her eyes roved over the list of players she was set to interview. Sure enough, Harry Osborn was there. So was Miles Morales, who was described as an extremely promising freshman. Zack Coleson, who had the highest number of goals for the season. Last on the list was the team captain: Peter Parker.
“I can talk to Harry,” MJ offered, “I can let him know that it’s you doing the interviews. I’ll make sure he tells them to go easy on you—”
“No, no,” she shook her head, “That might make it worse. And they already know that it’s not Eli coming. Or they should, at least”
“You sure?” MJ quirked a brow, her features crinkling in a way that was only intelligible as concern.
“They’ll be walking on eggshells around me if they know I’m chickenshit, I won’t get a good interview,” she sighed. Even if the interview wasn’t what she wanted to do, she was going to have to. And she would do a good job—a great job.
“You got this, Kitty,” MJ squeezed her shoulders. The nickname pulled a smile from her, and she gave into MJ’s touch.
“We’ll see about that,” she relented. Her eyes traveled back to the computer screen. The interviews were scheduled two days from now at the Stark Memorial Rink.
“Hey, MJ,” she hummed, “Could you grab me my noose?”
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The rink was colder than she expected. The empty stands provided no body heat, not to mention there was a literal sheet of ice on the floor. Tugging at the strap of her messenger bag, she took slow, careful steps to the plexiglass.
Clink.
Her eyes widened. There were around ten to fifteen guys in full gear out on the ice, and another ten to fifteen more on a bench near the glass or flitting around the edge of the rink. She was nervous, so she got there early. Now, she was stuck watching them practice.
Leaving was so tempting. She could go back to her dorm, or better yet, leave college entirely. She could just give up and fall off the grid, cut her credit cards, throw her phone in the ocean, sail off to Greece—
“Hello?”
She cursed the muffled voice that pulled her back into reality. Blinking, she found that standing before her was one of the very hockey players she’d seen skating on the rink before her. He was tall, and gear under his black and purple jersey made him appear far more bulkier than she theorized he was. He slipped his helmet off to reveal brown, curly hair that was drenched in sweat.
“Hi,” she replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he would. He cocked his head at her as he popped out his mouth guard.
“This is a closed practice,” he said, though, he didn’t sound all too upset that she was here.
“Oh, yeah, I know,” she nodded quickly, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag again, “I’m a bit early, I’m supposed to be interviewing some people on the team. I’m—”
“Kitty?” She was interrupted by the sound of a voice as well as skates scraping across the ice. Glancing past the guy in front of her, she saw Harry slide off the ice and clomp to benches where they currently were.
“Hey, Harry.” Her lips were screwed up in a tight grin. He’d heard MJ call her Kitty once, and now it was the only thing he’d refer to her as.
“Kitty?” Mystery guy repeated the name with a hint of intrigue.
“It’s not my real name, my friends just call me that,” she shook her head.
“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked, swinging an arm around the shoulder of the guy in front of her.
“I’m Eli’s replacement,” she explained, trying to plaster a friendly smile to her lips, “I’m doing the interviews.”
“Aw, shit, why didn’t MJ tell me we got the cool Kitty-cat on the case?” Harry grinned.
“Could you try to never say those words again? Really hated it, thanks,” her nose crinkled.
“You got it.” He tried to point finger guns at her, but with the thick gloves on, it just looked like he was pointing his whole hand.
“Hey,” he started up again, “You’re a little early, so practice isn’t over yet, but we’re almost done. It’s just the four of us, right?”
“Right,” she nodded in response. It was a relief that they’d been briefed on the situation.
“Alright, well, I’m Harry, obviously, Miles and Zack are on the ice somewhere, and this right here—” Harry jostled the shoulders of the Mystery guy, “—is Peter. Oh captain, my captain!”
Peter chuckled as Harry clapped him on the back. The noise that emanated from the friendly hit was harsh, but Peter didn’t move a muscle.
“Right,” she nodded, “So, I figured we could do them individually? There’s some sort of specific questions for each of you.”
“Sounds good, Kitty,” Harry replied. She’d smack him if he said that name again.
“Sit tight for a bit,” Peter spoke up. Even with the stubble on his chin, his smile gave him a boyish appearance. He looked her up and down quickly, “We can try to wrap up practice early.”
'A bit' ended up feeling like forever. At first, she tried to distract herself with her phone, but it didn't work: she would open apps, scroll through them, then close them just to reopen them over and over again. So she organized her bag, which took about five minutes. Time seemed to tic by in a tauntingly slow manner. It was only when she saw a few of the players emerge from the locker room did she let out a breath of relief. She immediately sucked that breath back when she realized that she would actually have to talk to some of them.
Harry went first. It was easy enough to go through the questions with him. It was like talking to an over-eager relative at a family reunion, one who was just dying to talk about all the new things they're doing. Miles wasn't all that bad to interview, either. He was a lot more nervous than she was. His awkward pauses and constant strings of 'um' and 'uh' was almost comforting. Then came Peter.
"Kitty," he grinned as soon as he saw her seated on the bench next to the rink. He no longer wore his gear—just a hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. His hair, however, was still wet and tousled. She gave him a tight lipped smile in return.
"That's not my name," she replied. Before she had time to properly introduce herself, his raspy chuckle was already echoing through the open arena.
"You said that's what your friends call you, right?" He cocked his head as he sat down on the other edge of the bench.
"You're not—” If she could just make it through the interview without fuss, she'd be one person away from being free, "—right. That's what my friends call me."
"I'm going to be recording this, just so I can reference it later," she explained almost monotonously.
"This isn't my first time," he responded with another light laugh. She had to physically bite her tongue to fight off any comments. A soft click sounded from her phone as she started a new voice memo. Her eyes scanned the list of questions on the page before her. Some she'd already asked to Harry and Miles: How does it feel to make the tournament? What is the atmosphere of the team right now? She chose a fresh question to start with.
"What's it like to be the captain of this team? Are you proud? Overwhelmed?" She asked, her voice taking on a new tone closer to a news anchor than a regular person. Peter's lips curled up at the change.
"I'm proud, yeah," he nodded, his voice smooth, "This is a great group. But we all work our asses off, so I'm not surprised by how far we've come. Being their captain is really something."
"And—"
"Do you normally do sports? For the paper, I mean." Before she could even get her next sentence out, he interrupted her. Her grip on the papers in her hand tightened.
"No, not normally," she grit out, "And going along with your thoughts on being captain, what about making it to the tournament this year?"
"It's the best feeling in the world. It's something I've been chasing after for years now, finally getting to it is just...sort of indescribable." Even when his tone is nothing but sincere, he can't wipe the cocky grin from his lips.
"I can imagine," she smiled tautly in reply, "What was it like working your way up to captain? Was it a personal journey, or did you get support from the team?"
"I'd say it was an even mix of both," he hummed, "Do you like hockey?"
"What?" She furrowed her brows.
"Are you a hockey fan?" He reiterated, "Because our next game is home, and it's sort of packed, but I could get you some tickets assuming you don't have some already—"
"No—Peter," she let out a frustrated huff, tapping on her phone to momentarily pause the recording, "This is an interview, not social hour."
"Aren't interviews inherently social?" His smirk was infuriating.
"I mean that I ask the questions, you answer them," she grumbled, "Do you act like this with Eli? Are you not taking me serious because I'm a woman?"
"What?" His smirk fell immediately, "What? No—no. I'm taking you seriously, I take women very seriously. I'm all for women. They're great."
"Then can we just do this interview and get it over with?" She sighed, her finger hovering over the unpause button. He nodded, but before she could resume the interview, he quickly added: "But do you want tickets?"
Ignoring the question, she carried on. Peter seemed to mellow out after a while and didn't interrupt again. It was almost surprising how well he'd listened: he was giving her real, insightful answers to her questions without a hint of flirtation. The final interview with Zack flowed easily, and she fled Stark Memorial Rink as quick as she could.
Transcribing the interviews was the easiest part. Days later, she would be hunched over her computer in the darkness of her shared dorm, playing and replaying the recordings and typing out the words onto the screen. Her concentration was briefly interrupted, though, when the door opened and a stream of light threaded its way through the room and onto the back of her head.
"Light bad!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, "Light very bad!"
"You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at your computer in the dark," MJ spoke in a warning tone, but ultimately closed the door.
"Then blind I must go," she sighed, swiveling on her chair to look at her roommate, "How was class?"
"Normal," MJ shrugged, sliding her bag off her shoulders, "But I have a little something for you."
"Something for little ol' me?" She gasped in dramatized delight.
"Yes," MJ grinned widely as her hand reached for the zipper of her bag, "Close your eyes."
She obliged immediately, her nose scrunched in anticipation, "I hope it's a million dollars. Is it a million dollars? Am I close?"
"Almost," MJ giggled. After a moment of anticipation, MJ gently grabbed her hands and place something into them. It was thin and papery and rectangular. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a white envelope with 'Kitty' written out on the front. Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar handwriting.
"Is there a check for a million dollars inside?" She asked as she cocked her head.
"No clue, it's not from me," MJ shrugged.
"Then who's it from?" Her fingers slid under the lip of the envelope.
"Harry gave it to me to give to you," MJ grinned, "He said it's from Peter."
She should've sailed to Greece when she had the chance. Inside the envelope were two tickets—Empire State University versus Pennbrook University this Saturday at seven. A long groan left her lips before she finally met MJ's eyes.
"You never got me that noose I asked for."
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a/n — not sure how i’m feeling abt this one guys. hockey peter has been causing me brain rot tho so i couldn’t help myself.
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buccini555 · 9 months
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… 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩
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𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝...
≡ Shinichiro finally noticed you
⌕ I m a g i n e s !
♡... 𝑭𝒕. Shinichiro Sano and special participation by Izana Kurokawa!
⚠︎!! explicit smut,unprotected s♡x, virg♡nity loss, school bathroom s♡x, oral, overstimulation, bl♡wjob, smoking, petnames (baby, honey)... I think that's all?
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On that day that seemed to be just another day full of boredom, not many people had gone to school because it was a week after the holidays, but, you were there with your friends, you realized that they didn't give a damn about you, for that reason you ended up walking away and going to some corner of the classroom where you could be alone, as you didn't have classes that day, you just stood there passing a colorless nail polish on your nails anxious to finally leave that stupid place, everything was really boring until someone walked through the door in the class, Shinichiro Sano, a grade above you, you had already talked a few times before and you had a huge crush on him, so you laid eyes on the taller one, you had already noticed him a few times, but, you knew that despite being extremely extroverted, he was shy when it came to girls and you also faithfully believed that you would not have a chance with that boy, he is handsome, tall, affectionate and cute, you always have him in your thoughts, every time Shinichiro spoke to you he was extremely kind.
Shinichiro came to bring the message from the another teacher, since they had nothing to do in the classroom, it was better that they practice some sport or something, you thought it was a waste of time, but it was the same with the rest of your class, arriving at the place of sports, you sat apart from the rest, continuing to manage your nails and listening to songs, your playlist had just started when Shinichiro sat down next to you.
"What are you doing here, alone? Have your friends left you out again?" Shinichiro approached you, making you take off your headphones and pay attention to him, you could only notice how handsome he was and that made you a little intimidated.
"They're like... boring as fuck! but I really don't give a shit, how about you? Why are you here?" You replied despondently, looking away and putting your songs aside.
"I saw you alone and I came to keep you company! I don't want to see you so sad" He smiled, Shinichiro looked confident and shy at the same time, you could see a bit of nervousness on the taller one's face.
"Hmm? Okay... Seriously, I really wanted to go somewhere more secluded, don't you know any places?" You questioned him, watching the other people from afar.
"Hmmm? I know a place! Do you want to go with me?" He looked at you after thinking a bit, wondering if you really wanted to go with him.
"I honestly am hating being here..."
"I think it's best that no one sees us going together, so go to the bathroom behind the court and wait for me, understand?"
"Bathroom?" You laughed, questioning him about the location.
Shinichiro laughed and you got up, quickly going to the aforementioned place without get other people's attention, that bathroom had been disabled for a few years, so no one went in there, unless you had the key, as you obviously didn't get it, you waited for Shinichiro, who arrived soon after.
"Do you have the key to this place, Shinichiro?"
"...I have my secrets, baby." Sano responded immediately, taking the keys out of one of his coat pockets.
He opened the door, first looking to see if anyone was around, but there was just you and him.
"What a strange place!" You spoke in a low tone while looking at the abandoned bathroom.
"We can leave here if you want..."
"Oh, Shini, whatever! We should go into one of the cabins, someone can come in here."
"It's quite impossible for anyone to enter here, but... Since you want to enter, let's go."
You and Shinichiro entered one of the cabins, the place was tight, for that reason you were getting closer and closer, at that moment, you started to see Shinichiro with different eyes, you knew the sudden approach was getting him a little excited, but obviously he wasn't going to show it, he seemed to want something, but he didn't know what to do, so, you got even closer to him, when he finally took the courage to hold your waist and give you a small kiss.
"I-I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did it!" Nervousness took hold of him, as he had never had a girl in his hands before.
"Shini? Hey, no need to apologize, I... want to." You reciprocated the kiss, this time, it became longer and the kisses were getting more and more "warm", you held the chain around Shinichiro's neck while kissing him, he gently ran his hand over your body, making you sigh a few times.
After a few kisses, he gently held you by the waist again and placed you on top of a small counter inside the cabin, staying between your legs while kissing you, at that moment you realized that he put more strength into the touch, also feeling how excited he was while he was between your legs you could feel how hard he was, he was itching to try you, you knew that if they did something, it would have to be quick, so, even though you were still a virgin, you didn't waste time at that moment with Shinichiro.
"Shini, S-shini? P-please"
"Baby? You want to stop?"
"No! Please, I want more!"
"Hmm? More?"
"I-I want you, Shini."
"I don't want to give you the wrong impression..."
"N-no, baby, I want to lose my virginity with you..."
"B-baby, you should expect someone special!"
"You are special to me, Shinichiro, please, I'm so horny, only you can satisfy me."
The fact that you wanted to lose your virginity to him just made him even more horny and more willing to fuck you, when he realized that you really wanted him, Shinichiro just stopped talking, he started kissing you with even more desire and put his hand inside your pants, gently jerking you off over your panties, when he started to feel you were wet enough "So pretty, baby!" he just pulled your panties aside and started touching your clit, after you started moaning even more he gently put his fingers on you.
"...Mmm, baby? I promise to be careful."
You were already horny, almost begging him to fuck you, you just moaned softly begging for his dick, so, answering your request, Shinichiro gently made you touch. "Can you handle a dick that big, or nah?" You just nodded your head in affirmation, he was already extremely turned on so he started to put it on you carefully, when you got used to his dick he started to be faster and go deeper and deeper, holding her mouth so no one can hear her moans, "That tight pussy belongs to me, only I can fuck you like that, cum for me honey" He said as he worked hard, he just wanted to make you have your first orgasm, so Shinichiro really put effort into what he was doing.
"F-fuck, can I cum in your mouth?Please" He asked you when he was about to reach his peak, you quickly accepted, giving him a blowjob before he cumming, you knew what you were doing so you just made the taller one let out some moans and melt in your mouth.
You still had some time, so Shinichiro refused to try your pussy taste, he really wanted to use his tongue at that moment, but, when he started to lick your clit and penetrate you again with his fingers, some motherfucker knocked on the door, Shinichiro was sure it was his brother, Izana Kurokawa, Izana had become a fucking smoker and used to go to that bathroom for a smoke sometimes.
"Fuck! stay quiet, baby, I won't stop" He made you stay quiet while he finished what he was doing, when you finally came in his mouth, Shinichiro and you got dressed and left the bathroom.
"What the hell is that, Shinichiro?"
Izana screamed as soon as he saw you leaving the place together, he started laughing, apologizing for having disturbed. Shinichiro just looked at him in disgust and grabbed your hand, pulling you away.
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bbanghiitomi · 5 months
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| when things don't go your way
synopsis: what do you call someone you're not dating but someone in your arms? hanni asks that question herself often but always comes to the same answer: which is you.
— nonidol!filmstudent!phanni! × nonidol!journalismstudent!fem!reader
ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
y/n, are u not coming to see me?
i miss you already...
haven't seen you for a month.
how's ur org doing?
received.
you find yourself smiling as you read her messages, it seems like just the casual hi and hello's, the simple updates that friends are supposed to be sharing with each other aren't enough to satisfy the pham's need to be able to see your face, hear your voice and touch you. she's right actually, the last time you've seen each other was a month ago, before your journalism organization started being busy once again and her life has been a lot more boring ever since. there have been lots of restless nights where you think to yourself that there's no such rest as good as hanni's hugs, you really need her embrace, her arms around your waist.
god i miss her…
you can't help but think to yourself whilst you sit in one of the journalism organization room swivel chairs, working in front of a computer for the next online publishing of the university's news publishing website. it's almost 9pm, the lights are dim and the last person who you were with inside the room was the radio broadcasting group's director — danielle marsh, who then left with the sports writer kang haerin. they've been going in and out together for the past couple of months, which went unnoticed by some members of the faculty as it was seen as “typical” and very on character for them to do so.
you weren't new to that thing too, it's pretty obvious they've got a thing for each other and they're pretty open about it if anything.
unlike you.
just seeing the two made you miss hanni so much more, and it's quite selfish to think of such things because everyone, including the sane part of your brain knew that there's nothing between the two of you except for friendship — worn like a cloak to hide a secret. you can't remember why this whole arrangement between you and hanni started, when did you start sharing kisses? when did you start taking her home? what was the reason you visited her place even if it was late at night? why were you even so adamant about being there for her when she needs someone? why did both of you agree not to put any meaning behind these things? those thoughts were at the back of your mind, it shouldn't matter actually and when you think about it you try not to pry yourself about how it should matter that much — at the end of the day, things are not going to change.
if the walls of your room could talk, your secrets would no longer be something shared between you and hanni.
well, you've been on thin ice for such a long time — at this point, you assume that everyone in your organization and her club already has an idea about your relationship with hanni and are quite in a stump about it but that's too far from the truth, in fact — there were hardly anyone who notices the little things you do. everytime you think about her, the shared secrets together, the things about you that only she knows — you can't even find a reason to hate yourself for entertaining something people won't find appealing. it's been so long, why would you even go back to where it all started to stop this from escalating even further when you could just go with it until the end.
you know, you're going to hold onto this till the end, thinking that there will be that time where you and hanni can settle things down and accept what needs to be accepted and leave what needs to be left behind.
maybe, things will get better eventually…
you just hope you can stick with this until — you can finally call her… yours.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
hm…
i'll think about it.
miss me already?
the org's doing just fine, hbu?
sent.
you drop your phone on the table as you close the tabs of the computer and then turn the computer off. you stay on the chair for a few more minutes, waiting for her reply as you fiddle the hem of your shirt with your fingers. quite nervous, confused as to why you were nervous — you can't help but just laugh, not having any explanation as to why you're suddenly acting like a giddy teenager girl over your so-called "friend".
crap… you think to yourself, it's really late now but you were hoping to see her again, at least even for just an hour or-so.
i wonder what she's up to now.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
oh! the club's doing well!
we just finished our project and were hoping to release it soon.
you know how giddy i get about it, right?
i wish you were here with me so i can tell you all about it.
received.
you feel the familiar heat crawling up to your cheeks, you tap at the screen only for a few seconds and then pick it up. you wonder why, even before you kissed her, no matter how many times you tried setting yourself up with other girls — it wasn't effective at all. behind those words you told other people is hanni lingering at the back of your mind, the image of her face clear in your eyes until you just gave up, leaving yourself falling into her arms.
just how many times have i tried?
i can't even remember.
you thought then just gave up.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
yeah…
i wish i was there, where are you anyway?
i mean, maybe i can come and see you.
right?
sent.
you stare at her message for a few seconds then you stand up and grab your bag that's been left unattended on the floor for a few hours since you first started working on the articles. you have absolutely no idea about what you're doing, it's just you doing whatever once again and doing it in the most random time ever but that's just because you missed hanni so much.
it won't hurt, right?
spending just some time to see her again.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
wait, really?
i mean…
that's great!
but what about your roommate?
will minji not look for you?
received.
that's the thing, minji has been your roommate for almost two years — yes, that long. she's practically like your sibling at this point, one that you can always trust and lean on when you need a shoulder to hold onto or someone to cry on. minji used to be also a part of the film making organization in your university. she used to work with hanni on some projects for school until she left to focus on writing her own stuff on her own accord. so, minji is someone hanni already knew before she met you.
minji knows your thing with hanni and is at first troubled by it, but then it's not like it's something unethical, right? it's just secrets and a relationship with no label, it doesn't hurt anyone aside from you and hanni. that's the thing, minji feels bad that you subject yourself to self-harm — which is a relationship where you have no right to feel jealous about. she knows it sucks, how many times have she asked you: “what’s really between you and hanni?” and you always answer her. “nothing, we're close friends.” even though she's seen you cuddling with hanni on your couch, awfully closer than normal.
she worries your mother might find out even before you make it official between the two of you,
you know, she knows you're screwed if it were to happen.
minji has basically given up prying her way into your business but still tries to watch out whenever you feel sad or frustrated. she's always there when you need her — she's obviously a great friend that even your parents trust.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
nah, don't worry
i’ll tell her.
she’ll be alright.
where are you?
sent.
honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ
great, i’m here at my condominium
just, you know? waiting…
hope you come here asap
;)))
received.
you grab your backpack and sling to your shoulder, making your way past the rows of computers lined and exiting the room. you see the dim corridor, your eyes follow along the lines of doors and the straight path to the stairways, and under the dark hall the pictures of when you first met hanni lingered at the back of your mind, right at the end of the corridor.
r u carps, min?
hey minji,
bro
i won't be home 2night
take care of the dorm and heat up the pizza
i got some money under the flower base and just take it to order sum whatever…
lov ur roommate, y/n
sent.
and with a blink, you come back to reality and start running your way to the stairs and reaching the ground floor — rushing as soon as possible to get to the open parking lot where your scooter is parked, you open your top box with your keys and immediately place your bag inside before locking it once again.
r u carps, min?
dude wtf?
why now? ur mom will be here tomorrow.
y/n?
hey!
BRO!!!!
ur such an asshole
you know that?
come on…
ur dead
received.
as the engine ignites, all your worries are pushed back behind before the motor accelerates and you finally find your way outside the campus then to her condominium.
“you’ve been away for so long.” hanni grumbles, arms wrapping themselves around your torso, you laugh at her expression, a cute pout adoring her pink lips and her eyes full of stars inside of them. it's almost like she has the universe in her pupils. “only for a month by the way, i’m guessing you really feel lonely here.” you tell her, raising your brows at her direction with a smile on your lips. she nods, snuggling closer to your body on the bed, she feels like a koala the way she couldn't let go of your figure.
“of course! aside from my parents, you're really the only one i want here with me.” she says, well it's nothing but the truth but hearing it made something inside you tremble. it's something you cannot understand but something you feel very deep inside, you only smile at her.
she could bring anyone she wants here.
and you would still not be able to tell her nothing, because you have no right to do so.
she's free to do whatever she wants to do.
and that must be your fault, right?
you place a hand on top of her head, patting her soft hair under your palm. “seriously, this is why you feel lonely. having a friend or two here other than me wouldn't be so bad.” you express out of genuine feelings, though it's nice to know you're the only one she wants, you can't help but feel guilty that you're making her wait or expect too much to the point she's not allowing anyone inside of her life aside from you.
at the end of the day, you only want her to be happy.
but that's not the case, for a relationship that doesn't have any label — hanni seems committed to it.
you haven't even said anything but she's already sure she's yours, and it honestly makes you feel bad even if it is a mutual feeling you two both share.
“i really only want you…” hanni buries her head on your neck, snuggling close for warmth and you can't help but wrap your arm around her, to keep her close as if anyone was going to take her away from you if you don't. “it's okay, i won't be away for any longer anymore. i promise.” you whisper, you feel hanni nod her head and feel her lips against your skin as she speaks. “promise me you’ll be here with me forever?” you look down on her, eyes directly on her cheek, her face hidden on your neck. “i will.” you smile at her.
maybe, you are really that tired that when you open your eyes it's already 9am in the morning yet hanni is still wrapped around your arms. the sun shines so much brighter on days like this, it must have been her presence beside you and everyday should have been like this if things were different.
there is still a chance for you to change it.
you start to see it.
“are you sure i can come to you and minji’s place today?” hanni asks, looking up from her plate of food, she tilts her head as she asks, eyes meeting your own pair. “well yeah, you know minji would never mind.” you say, bringing your utensils down before smiling at her direction. “besides, it’s not a busy day today.” you add.
you take the helmet in hanni’s hands and help her wear it on her head, making sure it's strapped tight. as your hands let go of the helmet, you notice hanni staring at your face and you raise your brows at her. “what?” you ask. hanni giggles and shakes her head. “nothing, i just… feel giddy about being with you today after what felt like forever.” she says and you almost saw the entire galaxy inside of her eyes the way it shines, the wait the light sparkles, you can't help but be mesmerized.
you nod at her and place a kiss on her cheek. “of course, it's not everyday we get to be like this together.” you huff and hop on the motor, hanni follows and wraps her arms around your waist.
when you get to your shared apartment’s front door you notice the weird aura of the place, you hesitate to open the door as you stand still looking at the wooden entrance, hanni peeks behind you and wonders why you haven't touched the doorknob.
now… i must be paranoid.
it's oddly quiet or somehow, there's a strange presence looming around the place and you don't know what it was.
you take the doorknob in your hand and feel its cold surface, sending shivers on your spine. you twist it and enter inside, slowly stepping a foot and looking around to see if anyone beside minji is present, hanni follows quietly but is still confused. your eyes widen when you spot your mom standing by the living room and seemingly pacing around, in panic and quite in a rush, impatient.
you feel a rush of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you immediately take a step back, pull hanni outside then close the door gently. “w-what’s wrong? is there an intruder inside?” hanni asks, worried that there might actually be an intruder, which ironically turned out to be your mom. you laugh sheepishly and scratch the back of your head. “uh no? i just remembered that minji wasn't around and… we can go grab food somewhere before coming back—” your words are cut off when the door opens to, none other than minji.
“minji..?” hanni looks behind you, to the door as minji stands with a hard expression on her face.
“where have you been?” minji asks, her tone is strict and impatient for an immediate answer, her eyes bore behind you and then dart back at hanni. “and why is hanni here?” she adds to the pile of questions.
you turn around and shake your head. “ah, i didn't know you were here… crap, i was at her place yesterday and i thought i’d hang around with her here ‘cause you wouldn't mind, right?” you shrug, minji kept her serious face but sighs, rubbing her temple with her fingers. “y/n, i won't of course. but you know who will?” she says, clearly frustrated.
hanni squints her eyes at minji. “who?”
“her mom, she's here today, waiting for y/n inside.” minji answers, you flinch at the idea before turning your head at hanni who frowns and looks away. “i didn't know she'd be here!” you whisper aggressively, rubbing your face with your hand.
“dude, i messaged you yesterday. you didn't even bother reading it.” minji argues, which was the truth but you were riding your scooter to hanni's place when you received the message — it was the reason you didn't have the time to read it.
with your face buried on your palm, you grumbled. “dude, i was riding my scooter that time…”
hanni sighs and places her hand on your shoulder, you put your head up and look at her. “i’m leaving for now i guess, you'd be in more trouble if she sees me.” hanni says, giving you a small smile.
you furrow your brows, you think to yourself that there must be a way — there's something you can definitely do, doesn't matter what there has to be something!
you stare at her, pursing your lips before reaching out for her hand and shaking your head. “no, you'll stay. don't worry i’ll take care of this, please just stay.” you tell her, minji’s expression turns into confusion — as if, your ways of salvaging you and hanni's relationship seemed absurd to minji's level of understanding.
“wait? y/n are you crazy? you're gonna get you both in trouble!” minji says, already scolding you even before the trouble happens. you look at her and shake your head, holding hanni’s hand tight. “no, that's my mom — i know her, we’ll be alright. i promise.” you look back at hanni to give her a small smile again, caressing the soft skin of her hand under yours to soothe the unstable feeling stressing her out.
the door opens once again but this time it's your mother who exits and her eyes dart at the three figures standing. “y/n? where have you been, young lady!” she yells, you laugh and look at her with a sheepish expression before pulling hanni slightly closer beside you. “i stayed somewhere only for a night. i swear, no troubles.” your mother seems to notice hanni’s presence beside you and raises her brow towards hanni, her scary aura unchanging.
hanni took a deep breath, opening her lips as if about to say a word but she fails miserably when your mother glares at her. “and who is this girl?” your mother asks, her voice asking irritatedly. you look at hanni before wrapping your arm around her torso, getting a look of doubt from your mother but mostly directed to hanni, who gulps a lump inside her throat. “hi — i’m y/n’s —”
“she's my girlfriend, mom.” you grin at your mother, hanni and minji both looked shocked at the sudden revelation — you were confident, this time you’re sure and there's no way you’ll take it back again, not this time or never again. hanni looks at you and her eyes shake when it meets your mother's gaze.
“oh, what..?” minji mutters, feeling her head spinning, she blinks in confusion and looks at the three people all facing one another. hanni blushes, aggressively gripping the hem of your shirt, looking up at you as if you said something crazy which is indeed crazy, out of character even.
“oh, really?” your mom adds, her voice softens but her eyes remain the same.
hanni looks at your mom, nodding her head gently.
“yes, i’m your daughter’s girlfriend, ma'am. nice to meet you…” hanni smiles, still quite hesitant, like a curious cat dipping its paws in something it doesn't know — but in hanni’s case she has her hand sticking out for a handshake.
somehow, your mother's eyes softened or is hanni just deluding herself into believing so?
she hopes, your mom did — because she shouldn't be seeing things, she's still sane after all!
yes, your mother did soften her gaze.
hanni may not be that crazy after all.
just a little, just for you.
“yeah! you're okay with it, right mom? hanni’s a very nice girl and she lets me sleep at her place when i stay at school late and she cooks me breakfast and she helps me with my homeworks. she helps me clean my room, helps me with my laundry and —” even before you finish rambling about how hanni basically keeps your life stable your mom raises her index finger to your way to shush you down before she steps forward to take a closer look at hanni.
your mother looks at hanni’s hand and reaches for it before shaking it, feeling hanni’s sweating and trembling hand. “nice to meet you, is my daughter too much work? i know she's a little handful sometimes.” you slump your shoulders as you mother jokes, hanni laughs— you notice the change in her voice, feeling your girlfriend starting to relax herself. “she isn't, i’m happy to be helping her.” hanni answers, feeling her cheeks flush and her blood boiling on her face.
“that's good to know, she's very dependent.”
minji nods and huffs. “yes, she is!” you roll your eyes at her.
you mother lets go of hanni’s hand and turns away to walk inside the door, but before she enters she calls for minji. “help me arrange the table.” she says, to which minji followed almost immediately.
hanni feels like laughing, there's a certain type of warmth blooming inside of her when she realizes what just happened. she blinks only for a bit, trying to do something to make sure she isn't daydreaming or dreaming whilst asleep — and she had just confirmed that she is indeed awake, none of what happened was fake and the warmth of your arm proved it.
“hanni.” you call out to her. hanni puts a hand on her mouth and looks up at you, starstrucked to actually see your mother up close.
“i’m your girlfriend?” she asks, to make sure you're not bluffing.
you smile and nod, giving her the type of gaze that means “i love you”.
“you are, you're my girlfriend.” you tell her.
hanni feels like crying this time, there's something about it that she can't explain — something about finally being able to hold onto something that isn't a thin thread of hope for something that will break apart in no time, without her knowing. something about finally being able to actually express her feelings without holding back sends waves of relief inside of hanni.
why has she not thought of this earlier? why didn't you tell her that earlier?
hanni embraces you in a tight hug, her face buried in your shoulder as she sobs. “oh my god…” you feel her speak. you laugh, petting her head. “hey now, i promise i’m not lying.”
hanni sniffs and looks up at you. “i love you.” she whispers, eyes covered with tears and cheeks are bright red, before breaking into a wide smile. “i love you too.” you tell her back before giving her a small kiss on her lips.
206 notes · View notes
somekindofpoet · 1 year
Note
Okay what if you met Tara before and she needed your hoodie (for whatever reason cold, spill, whatever) and that started it all the smell of you on that hoodie became intoxicating to her and she knew she had to have you (maybe that’s another reason why she started going to your rugby games) when you finally start dating and coming over you find the hoodie and she threatens you if you even think about taking it away from her (she does let you wear it periodically tho just to regain your smell on it) she now has other belongings of yours but that one just holds a special place
It was P.E. Tara hated P.E. The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that the women's rugby team was in her class and she secretly loved watching them. Not too well kept of a secret, to her dismay, because Mindy never failed to notice when she drooled over them, particularly you.
"Tell one of them you're cold. Bet you ten bucks they'll fight over who gets to give you their sweater," Mindy said, leaning down into Tara's ear.
Tara rolled her eyes, but the blush that crept up her cheeks was a dead giveaway.
"Just because you have a crush on them doesn't mean I do."
Mindy laughed, jabbed Tara with her elbow, "If there was a heat map that followed your stare, they would be on fire. Especially y/n. You really are not hiding anything from me T."
"I mean she's so..." Tara sighed.
Mindy nodded, sighing right along with Tara, "Yeah she is. You know what?" She turned to the team, waving her arm, "Hey ladies, my friend here is freezing her adorable little ass off!"
Just as she had predicted, half of the team began wrestling each other to remove their sweatshirts and jackets. Mindy and Tara giggled as they watched the debacle unfold. There were women of every shape and size on the team, but you were the one triumphant. You handed over your Varsity Rugby hoody with a smooth grin, and Tara had to fight not to blush again. You winked at her and turned back to your team, peacocking over your victory.
Tara eagerly pulled the sweater on, letting it drape over her. It was far too big, falling almost to her knees, the sleeves bunched around her wrists and the hood nearly hid her face. Mindy watched her with a wry grin, feeling victorious.
"You owe me ten bucks," she said holding her hand out to Tara.
Tara scrunched her face up at her, "I'll Venmo you later. Worth it though, smell this sweater, its unreal."
Mindy's eyebrows raised, her interest piqued as she leaned over to get a whiff, "Oh shit. Now I'm regretting not taking it. What is that?"
"I don't know, but I think I'm in love."
"Shit, me too. Share?"
"Absolutely not."
Tara started attending women's rugby games regularly after that. She never offered your sweater back, and she figured you forgot about it because you never asked for it. Mindy noticed, but decided to let it play out, see where the cards fell. She knew if Tara wanted something, she'd go after it eventually.
It took an entire year after winning the sweater before you started dating her. Tara just wasn't sure, could never find a way in to your world. But once you were ousted from sports, and she saw what you were, she knew. Her instincts were right about you, and you were all hers.
The second time you came to her house, you found the sweater hanging in her closet like it belonged there. You took it off the hanger and turned with it, shooting Tara a questioning look. She leapt off the bed and snatched it away from you, practically growling at you as she held it close to her chest.
"Its mine," she said, twisting it in her hands.
You put your hands up in surrender, "Woah, okay. You can have it. But, like, do you want my cologne on it again?"
She narrowed her eyes at you, clearly suspicious of your intent but intrigued, "I...do."
You laughed, digging in your backpack to pull out the bottle, "I have it with me, it doesn't even have to leave your side."
She held the sweater out and you sprayed it down, making sure it would smell for days. She immediately pulled it over her head, making you smile. That was the moment you realized she liked you more than she let on, and the walls between you came crashing down. You were an unconventional pair, but perfect in all the right ways.
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year
Note
What’s up is that I can’t stop thinking about making Steven feel better after a shitty day at his work like he comes home and he’s all huffing bc his boss bitched at him and you just. You know? Let me make you feel good Steven babyyyy
Hope you like :)
Word count: 1123
Warning: This contains s m u t. Minors DNI, please.
How did you get here, Steven splayed out under you with your cunt swallowing his cock? 
It's a funny story, really.
He'd come home huffing and puffing after a long day at work, his face pinched in irritation.
"I don't know what it is," Steven said, hands flying animatedly with a fork in hand, "but Donna hates me. Can you believe the old bat took a customer's side over mine? The bloke said I was overcharging him for a bookmark! A bloody bookmark! Donna's the one who set the price in the first place!" 
"I don't understand…why would she do that?" You questioned with a frown. The number of stories you've heard about that woman was vast and far too many to count. 
"It's hard to say," he stabbed the fork into the veggie lasagna you'd made for dinner, pushing the contents around his plate, "I'm not exactly sure what her issue is with me."
You watched the irritation grow like an infection over his soft features, twisting them to the point where you thought he would cry. His eyes glossed over with unshed tears before he put his fork down, furiously wiping his eyes with a fist. The sight nearly broke your heart.
"My poor baby," you cooed, pushing your plate aside, "I hate seeing you like this." You stood, circling the small dining table to lean against him, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders, the other cradling his head. He leaned into your touch, eyes downcast and long lashes wet. 
You soothed him with gentle noises, peppering little kisses over his brow.
"I'm sorry, love," he sniffled, “I don’t mean to get all sad on you. I’ve ruined dinner, haven’t I?” His brown eyes gazed up at you, large and sad. You smiled, letting the pad of your thumb run over his lower lip.
“You didn't ruin dinner,” you placed another gentle kiss over his mess of curls, “you have every right to express how you’re feeling.” He sighed, snuggling you close by wrapping his arms around you.
"I love you." He mumbled into your side, the words disappearing into the fabric of your shirt. 
"I love you, too." You smiled, resting your chin over his head, relishing in the scent that was uniquely Steven.
You felt his fingers gently trail down the expanse of your back, resting his hand at the dip. There was nothing sexual about the action, Steven was just a handsy person, seeking relief and comfort through touch alone. 
Or maybe you were wrong about that. 
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Steven finally spoke.
"Dove?" 
"Hmm?"
"Do you think…" he pulled away from you, firmly planting his hands on your hips and keeping his eyes trained on the small strip of visible skin, "Do you think we could…?" Steven slowly slipped a finger into the waistband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it gently snap back against your skin. 
"Oh, you need a distraction, do you?" You hummed, feigning disinterest until you broke out in laughter at the pout that threatened his lips. Without further hesitation you removed your shirt, tossing it somewhere in the mess of his flat, your shorts following after. "Of course, if that's what my baby wants."
"Please." He whispered, his gaze trailing over your form with adoration. You had nothing special on, just a basic gray sports bra and panties, but he always looked at you like you were beyond human comprehension, something special that only he (and Marc…and Jake) could have.
In a matter of minutes, you had him sitting on the couch with his pants down to his ankles and his patterned button-down shirt pushed up to expose his midriff. His pretty eyes were lidded, mouth slightly ajar as you moved up and down on his cock in a dance you both knew well. 
“Mmm…fuuuck, d’you hear t-that, love?” Steven pants, his thick fingers gripping your hips with a force you’ve recently discovered he had, “d’you hear h-how wet you are?” 
You’ve also recently discovered how filthy he can be with his words, not that you were complaining.
“Mhmm,” your eyes fluttered as you were now acutely aware of the obscene noises your pussy was making as it leaked all over his thick cock, “all for you, baby.” You were pretty sure his balls were now completely drenched with your juices.
You looked down at him, like really looked at him, and felt he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You wanted to see him that way forever, in the midst of pleasure, panting and begging you to keep going.
“I-I love you,” he moaned, gripping your face with both hands and bringing you down for a sloppy kiss, “w-wanna be inside y-you all the time. Would y-you let me, d-dove? I p-promise to always be good for you.”
“Mm, Steven, f-fuck, baby,” you leaned your brow against his, “your gonna make me come if you keep talking like that.” Steven trailed his large hands over your shoulders and down to your breasts, kneading the flesh through the bra before landing back on your hips.
“K-keep going,” he panted, guiding you faster over his cock, the thick head jamming into where you want it to hit the most. You followed his lead, lifting yourself up till the head of his cock almost slipped out, before slamming yourself down again.
“Oh my God,” you choked as you threw your head back and closed your eyes. It was like seeing the galaxy behind your lids, an endless abyss of pure pleasure and chaos all at once. “J-just wanna make you h-happy, Steven, baby.”
Steven’s breath comes out in quick bursts, your words causing him to activate his feral side—primal and filthy. He pounded and pounded up into you until his hips stuttered and his eyes rolled so far back it seemed like they would stay that way.
“I’m com—” The words died in his throat before he let out a guttural groan, his fingers digging painfully into your hips. He shot his load into you as you felt your own release, your fingers lost in the mass of his curls when you came and screamed your pleasure to the heavens. 
You slumped over him, chest heaving almost in unison with his. You were barely aware of his hand trailing down your spine, or his spend leaking from your pulsating cunt, dirtying you both.
“Steven,” you sighed, “that was…”
“Amazing,” he finished, dragging his nose over the contours of your face lovingly, “bloody amazing, love.”
“Are you feeling better, baby?” You squeezed your pussy and felt his cock twitch inside of you. Steven hummed, nodding his head lazily with his eyes closed.
“Mm, so much better.”
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reallyromealone · 1 year
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Hey 👋 how are you? I think this is my first time doing an ask so sorry if it's not worded very good 😅. Anyways I was wondering if I could request a Tokyo revengers (Bonten) x male child reader (it's an angst) is adopted and where the reader is like 10 or 11 and he loves to bake and sing/play an instrument, but bonten finds this a little weird since they grew up around tough boys idk, anyways i thought that they could be talking about it and how they think it's a little weird and the reader hears this without them knowing so he stops doing the things he loves and when he tells them why he stopped they feel really guilty and then the reader reveals that he thought that they would get rid of him for that. Sorry if this is kinda long I didn't know how to shorten it but thank you for reading my very long request and it's ok if you don't do it I just kinda wanted to put the idea out there! Thank you!😋
Well I'm glad I'm your first! Sorry this took so long!
Warning: male reader, child reader, angst to fluff
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Bonten realized that (name) wasn't even remotely like how they were as kids, the boy more interested in less physical activities and more into homebody things like baking and such.
He was even in both music and cooking clubs at school.
"It's just a little odd he's so invested..." Ran said as the criminals thought (name) was asleep "it is a little strange that he's not interested into what most boys his age enjoy" Mochi said and all were unaware that (name) was around the corner, crushed at this.
Was he not what they wanted?
Dread filled (name) as he quickly but quietly went back to his room, already thinking of ways to be what they wanted so they didn't abandon him.
(Name)... Well he wasn't himself.
And bonten took note of this change immediately.
They spotted the teen tossing his baking books in the trash with a heartbroken expression, the boy having been trying to take up more sports and such.
"Ok what's going on?" Kakucho asked while pulling the books out, thankfully they weren't damaged "I... I don't want you guys to get rid of me..." (Name) mumbled fiddling with his fingers, confusing the men "the fuck would we do that?"
"You guys thought my hobbies were weird... So I am changing so you guys don't get rid of me" (name) said simply while rubbing at his eyes and Bonten felt like shit.
This was their kind of kid and they crushed his joy so easy, didn't they adopt him so he could have an easier life and not deal with this disappointment?!
"Oh shit... We didn't mean it like that" ran said wiping a tear from his kids eye and the rest nodded "we were just worried about you making friends"
"I have friends... The girls at the baking club really like me!"
"Really?"
"Yeah, they always ask weird questions though"
"Like what?"
"What kind of girl I like and do I have anyone I'm interested in, I don't get it really why would I care about what kind of girl they are...what does that even mean?"
Bonten silently cheered for their son, he was the schools heartthrob it seemed.
"Well we don't hate your hobbies and we aren't getting rid of you so stop trying with the sports, it's sad to watch"
"Ok dad" (name) said with a laugh and they helped him put his books back
Two weeks later he had new baking supplies and a new (instrument) on his desk.
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shhh-secret-time · 3 months
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Another request from A03! I am so very sorry this one took so long I actually had to start this one over a few times because I actually lost a big chunk of it when I first started writing it! Nothing takes the wind out of my sails faster.
Warning: NSFW, Dom!Stan, Sub!Reader, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Writer doesn't know shit about college or sports ball, Slight Voyeurism, Strong Language, Stan might be a little OOC
Pairing: Stan x Fem!Reader
Notes: Hey uh welcome to this week's episode of, "Writer don't know how to write conflict to save her life!" I'm very bad at coming up with a reason to fight people, it's not in my nature so I'm sorry if it seems forced!
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You hated Stan Marsh
You hated him and most of the football players at your university. Them and their spotlight hogging, annoying, disgusting, sweaty, irritating habits! You and your girls bust your ass off at every practice, sports game, and pep rally South Park University places on your teams’ shoulders, and what do you get for it?
To hear things like, "Oooooh did you see how Cartman played center?" or "Clyde is so hot when he takes his helmet off and has that messy hair!" even, "Kyle plays football AND basketball with perfect grades? Why is he soooo perfect!"
But the one that got under your skin the most was Stanely fucking Marsh, the star quarterback. The man walks around the school with his little crowd of admirers everywhere he went, and for what? Just because he throws a stupid ball around and can run quick? Fuck him.
Your girls put in twice the work they do; you've been to every one of their games. You had to. Your group had to coordinate with the football players, the basketball players, the volleyball team, the hockey team, hell you even had to coordinate with the wrestling team. It was exhausting trying to keep up with it all.
And what did your cheer squad get? Perverted remarks and dismissive attitudes! The final straw was when the Cows mascot got more respect than your group did. You brought your complaints up to the school's councilor, to the headmaster, to anyone who would listen.
Word travels fast around the small town of South Park, people dating and breaking up. Who cheated on who, who's throwing the best parties, who threw up in who's car. Shit like that. Not much changes from high school to college, just a lot less sneaking around and more energy drinks and pain meds. So of course, when your complaints got to the one and only Stan Marsh, he confronted you about it.
"Hey! Hey wait up!" His voice rings out past the busy sounds of other students trying to get to their classes. "You're the captain of the cheer squad, right?" He all but corners you while you're walking with your friends, he doesn't have his little squad of goons following him around.
"Are you serious?" How could he not know who you are?! You've only been to every one of his stupid games! Only been sitting on the sidelines of every practice! "Yes! I am! What do you want?!"
Stan flinched back at the venom in your voice but that didn't stop him from shooting you a look. "Uh...did I do something wrong? I heard from one of the guys that you're not exactly...happy and I was just trying to figure out what we did."
"What you did. What did he do girls? Can anyone answer Mr. Marsh's question~?" The tone in your voice did not match the smile on your face. It sounded chipper but anyone listening could tell it was fake.
Your little group always had your back, most of them felt the same way you did. If anything, it just amplified that anger, knowing your girls were feeling underappreciated. It was your job as the captain to protect your girls, but every time you brought it up to them, they seemed to shy away from saying anything.
"Well, geez Stan, you gotta admit your team's been kinda hoggin' the spotlight. You know what I'm tryin' ta say don't ya?" It wasn't just your girls you had to protect; it was your sweet little angel Butters too. Although you guys called him by his first name when cheering with him, he was Leo to you. And right now, Leo was trying to bridge the gap between you and your rival.
"Veeery good Leo! That's right, Stan and his team don't seem to give a shit how hard we work to cheer his team on! The whole school would rather worship the ground their star quarterback walks on!"
"The school doesn't worship the ground I walk on! You can't pin this on me!" Stan shot back trying to defend himself, it was hard not to feel attacked even though you were the only one glaring at him.
A part of you knew that he was right, it really wasn't his fault that small towns in America went crazy for football.
"W-we're not pinnin' anything on ya! Just sayin' maybe, it wouldn't hurt to tell the guys to show us a little bit more respect! You know Eric's been pickin' on me ever since I joined the girls, sayin' some awfully mean things."
"Leo is right! You may not have a hand in the way people think but that's just the problem, you don't do anything to stop it! If you were really the captain of your little team you'd step up!" You took a step towards him, your face getting inches away from his face.
Ignoring the fact that you had to look up at him, you wouldn't let him leave without getting your point across. His eyes narrowed down at you, matching the energy you were giving out to him. Butters looked between the both of you with a nervous look, he could practically see the electricity bouncing between your eyes. The poor blond didn't mean to start a fight, he was just trying to help.
"If you had a problem with my team, you should have come to me then. Why did I have to find out from other people?" Stan's voice dipped to a low growl which almost made you give one in return.
"I shouldn't have had to go to anyone in the first place Marsh! Get your team under control or else!" You felt your face turn red; it was getting harder to argue with him when those ocean blue eyes were burning into yours.
That was new. Just going to lock that in your vault of things to not think about again.
Thankfully Butters finally stepped in, physically putting his body between the both of you. "C-come on now guys let’s all just calm down. We both said our peace and now we can work it out, right? Next time we practice we can be on the same page!"
"Sure Butters." Stan clicked his tongue as he looked at his friend, but that didn't stop him from getting one last jab in. "You better hope you don't slip up princess, because if you do. I'll be there and I'll be quick to remind you of your shortcomings." And with that he turned on his heel and started walking down the hallways.
"Princess?! Excuse me?!"
"Oh geez..."
Stan slammed his locker with a little more force than he should have, the rusty door screamed out and bounced back open. With an annoyed groan he pushed back on the metal with a little less force, but the damage was already done, the door was now on its last leg and would most likely not shut right. Just more fuel to the fire.
"Whoa dude what did that poor locker do to you? Don't you think it's been through enough." Kenny looked over from his locker with a little smirk.
One of the few times Kenny was without his parka, a towel wrapped around his waist and his bright blond hair clung to his skin. Stan could smell the smell of fresh soap and hints of pine in the air. He sighed in response to Kenny's teasing, clearly not in the mood for his friend's antics.
"Not now man, I don't have the energy." Stan grabbed his jacket and pulled it up onto his torso.
"Ah that's not good, wanna tell your old pal Kenny? I won't even charge ya, come on what's going on."
Stan pressed his lips together and he tried to focus on zipping up the worn-out brown coat he always wore, the zipper struggled to hold together. He cursed under his breath a few times before the thing finally zipped all the way up. For a moment Stan thought about not saying anything, but Kenny was never the type to judge or the type to let things go if he knew something was bothering his friends.
"You know the captain of the cheerleaders?"
"The really hot one?"
"Kenny!" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, something he picked up from his mother when they were both aggravated, "That's not the point."
"Says you. She's a baddy for real. Take no shit kinda woman~! The feisty ones are the ones that bite the hardest. You got your work cut out for you if you're trying to shoot your shot. I heard she turned down everyone else on the team!"
"Dude! I'm not gonna ask her out!"
"You're not? Then why'd you bring her up? Is this about the fight you guys had in the hall?"
Stan stopped and looked up at him in shock. "You heard about that already?"
"Oh yeah, you guys's are the talk of the school. Everyone thinks you guys had a little lovers spat. I had to hear the whole story from Leo!" Kenny chuckled as he grabbed started getting changed, pulling the patchy orange pants up his legs.
"Even you're calling him Leo now..." Stan muttered but quickly shook his head, "but that's not what I was going to say! I was going to...talk about that but if you already know."
"Yeah, I don't really know what that's all about but Leo kinda spelled it out for me. She's not mad at you per say just mad at the position you're in. A jealousy thing maybe but honestly, I think she's just tired of taking the back seat so to speak."
"What am I supposed to do about that? It's not my fault!" Stan threw his hands up the irritation on face made Kenny laugh again.
"I didn't say it was dude. I'm just telling you what I think, but man, she really got under your skin." Kenny smirks over at him with a playful purr.
"No, she didn't! I don't even care."
"Yep, that totally looks like the face that doesn't care~" Kenny pulled his zipper up and adjusted the collar as he spoke. "Look, let’s pretend for a second you do care. If I were you, I'd just talk to her. Ask her what you can do to make things right, because I'll be honest man, she's the last person you wanna make an enemy of. She'll make your life hell." Kenny finished making his point by wrapping his arm around Stan's neck and pulling him in for a side hug. "Besides, it's not like you have to work close with her, just work around her."
"Yeah..."
But of course, it could never be that simple, could it? Every time Stan tried to catch you to talk to you something got in his way. Monday you were busy with your classes zipping around the hall, Stan could barely get a word in. Tuesday you had to help Butters with his outfit so of course you didn't have time for him. Wednesday was the big pep rally for Friday's game, so that meant Thursday was for practice.
Thursday was hell. Stan was supposed to be focused on getting his team ready for the game. They were practicing dodging other players and passing the ball across the field. Stan was supposed to be working on his throw, he needed the ball to go further than normal. Kyle was getting faster at running and if Stan fell behind their whole strategy would be thrown out the window.
But of course, you couldn't make it easy. It was getting harder and harder to focus on what he needed to do when you were being tossed in the air. The way your dark green and gold skirt caught the sunlight, and the way the puffy looking poms in your hands shook back and forth. Stan knew he was in trouble when he stopped paying attention for a moment when you laughed at something Annie said. Next thing he knew he felt the football knock him on the side of the head. And of course, that's when you looked over, he felt his face heat up when you giggled and covered your mouth.
He hated you. Hated your pretty smile, the way you laughed made his blood boil and his body turn hot. Your stupid lips curled into a gorgeous smile and the way your thighs looked good enough to sink his teeth into, what he'd give to walk over and kiss that smug look off your-
Stan let out a growl that came from deep in his chest as he threw the ball down the field hitting Kyle in the chest. The poor red head just took it, letting out a grunt as it managed to get past the gear meant to keep him safe. He wouldn't let his mind wonder there, not for you. Not when you're the one who attacked him and then started avoiding him every chance you got.
"Marsh!" He winced when he heard Coach Miles below his name, he didn't need to see his face to know he was in trouble.
With a sigh he took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his messy black hair, the helmet causing his hair to stick up. As he walked over, he could feel your eyes on him, and all he could do was scowl. Trying not to think about how you must be eating this up.
Stan's scowl dropped when he heard the coach call your last name and gesture for you to come over. Your eyes widened at the way the coach called for you, you'd never heard him so angry at you before. You gave your poms to Wendy as you ran over, walking behind him as he gestured for you and Stan to follow him.
Coach Miles took you both back inside through the gym, once the three of you were alone, he crossed his arms and glared down at you both. "So, the big game is tomorrow and some of the students have come to be with worries about the way you two were at each other’s throats." He paused for only a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let me make something very clear, we are not in high school anymore. So whatever problem you two have with each other, fix it. You’re adults, act like them."
"I've tried! She doesn't want to work this out!" Stan's mouth moved before he thought about the consequences, but he was just so tired of this whole thing. Even if he agreed with his Coach, this whole situation had him at the end of his rope.
"What?! No, you didn't! You just bitched to Kenny-"
"I didn't bitch! I was asking for advice!" Stan stopped and glared over at you again, it seems like that's the only look he gave you nowadays. "I tried to talk to you in the halls and you blew me off!" How did you even know about he talked to Kenny anyway?!
Fucking Butters.
"I told you what my problem was with you Marsh!"
"No, you didn't! All you did was-"
"Enough!" The Coach's voice boomed over your little squabble and echoed off the gymnasium walls. "I was hoping you two would be mature enough that I didn't have to do this, but I guess I was wrong."
You and Stan watched as Coach Miles stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out a folded-up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he handed it to you and huffed. It was a warning slip, something he never gave out to you or Stan. "So, unless you both figure this out, you're both benched. Off the field and you can watch the rest of the students play without you."
"What?!" Your voices came out in unison, shocked at the very thought of not getting to be a part of tomorrows big game.
"I mean it! Figure yourselves out or you're out! I can have McCormick take your spot Marsh and Testaburger has plenty of experience leading!"
"But Coach-"
"No! I shouldn't have had to do this in the first place! I'm not your dad, I'm not your counselor, I'm a Coach! You both are lucky I'm even giving you a second chance! You have until tomorrow." Every word that came out of Coach Miles's mouth pierced like a sword.
You flinched and pulled back just as Stan did each time, he emphasized his frustration. It was a verbal lashing unlike one you've ever gotten, and you were grateful when he turned and left. You weren't sure if you could take much more.
An uncomfortable silence fell over you and Stan as you both just stood there. The slight buzzing sound of the fans overhead and Stan's deep breaths were all you could hear. Each time he inhaled through his nose he would exhale through his mouth, but it didn't look like it was actually doing anything to calm him.
You've heard when Stan got yelled at by Coach Miles, and not once did he look this angry. Your eyes trailed down his jawline watching as he started grinding his teeth together, the look on his face said it all. He was holding something back, he looked like a lit fuse ready to blow. You didn't know if that anger was at you, the Coach, the situation, or all the above. But a part of you really wanted to find out, and Miles did tell you to work it out.
"So... you wanted to talk. I'm here."
Stan's head snapped over towards you, the look on his face was a mix of anger and bewilderment. Shocked that you would break the silence like that. He felt his stomach churn, a feeling he hasn't felt since he was a kid.
It always felt like he was on a roller-coaster going too fast, that fluttering feeling one would feel when the ride would hit that high and then dropped to that low. Only this time it felt like the pit of his stomach was also on fire, his stomach was a cauldron ready to boil over. As he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out, he just let his mouth hang open for a second and then he shut it again. He was holding back still.
You rolled your eyes and jut your hip out, arms crossing under your chest. "Just say it. I know you want to yell, so yell. I'm a big girl I can take whatever you could possibly throw at me."
When Stan didn't respond but instead walked towards you, your arms dropped, and you took a step back. So caught up in the dark blues of his eye you barely registered when your back hit the wall, it wasn't until you realized he had you backed into a corner that you grasped the situation you were in. He slammed his arm over your head making your heart leap in your chest, and your hands come up in defensively.
You weren't scared that he was going to hurt you, you never got that from Stan, he never seemed like that type. But the way he looked down at you made your heart speed up and a shiver run down your spine. Never had you felt like a rabbit trapped in a pen with a wolf. Something about that excited you.
"What are you doing-"
"Shut.up." Stan's voice dips an octave as he whispers out the command.
The gravel in his voice is cut by the way he slams his lips down onto yours. You have just enough time to push back into the kiss when he pulls away and continues. "You...have made my life.... fucking hell...this entire week!" His complaints almost falls on deaf ears from the way he's kissing you in between them. "I don't know why I get so.... worked up with you!" He emphasizes the last part by grabbing your jaw and forcing your face up towards him.
It's only been a week and you've already got him wrapped around your finger, so tightly wound up that he was beginning to snap. And maybe you were wrapped around his, the smirk on your face was short lived when he bit your bottom lip. A small gasp escaping your lips giving him enough of an opening to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan against his lips and grip the front of his jersey by the collar. If he wanted to get handsy you could get handsy. You pulled him down into the kiss somehow deepening it further.
Your tongues push back and forth against each other, neither giving way to the other. His tongue was relentless but so was yours. It wasn't until you felt a bit of drool dripping down the side of your mouth did it click. You were making out with, what you thought, was the biggest asshole on campus. Yet you couldn't pull away, couldn't pull away from his hold on you.
On the other side of things, Stan's mind was going blank. With every twist of your tongue and lips he felt himself getting addicted. Hungry lips moving from yours to devour the soft flesh of your neck. He bites down with enough force to pull a cry from you and to leave a mark. Right where your shoulder meets your neck, teeth marks bright and red poked out of your cheerleading uniform.
"You fucking ass! That's going to leave a mark!" You hiss at him, but it just turns to another moan as he sucks on the patch of skin near your collarbone.
"Good!" He growls back coming off your skin with a pop. "I have tried all week to work with you! All fucking week to work with your bitchy attitude!"
"My attitude?! Fuck you! I was trying-"
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" He cuts you off with a smirk, one that would give the devil a run for his money.
"What?!" You white knuckle his jersey with both hands now.
"You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid." His hands reach down to the back of your thighs, cupping them as he lifts you up and slams you back into the wall. Not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the predicament you're in.
"Says the man who had his tongue down my throat!" Predicament be damned. He would not win this fight just because he slots himself between your legs and pushes his arousal against your thigh.
Those football pants left nothing for the imagination, the thought of leaving him with that hard on in those pants crossed your mind for a moment. But when he rolled his hips against your clothed sex you had to focus on biting back the moan instead.
"It shut you up, didn't it? You didn't seem to want me to stop when you were moaning against me."
You glared down at him and ran your fingers through his hair, giving the roots a firm tug; you smirked when he moaned. His face turned red making him lunge forward and bite your neck again. Your nails dug into his scalp which only seemed to encourage him to leave marks.
"Just shut the fuck up and...and fuck me already!" You tried to keep the moan out of your voice, but when he found that soft spot on your neck it just turned into a whimper.
That smug bastard lips turned up into a smirk, he pulls back just long enough to take a look around the gym. All he could hear was you panting heavily trying to catch your breath and the same dull fan buzzing. He looked down at you for a moment and for a second you thought he'd pull away. That he'd come to his senses and realize that maybe this wasn't exactly what the Coach meant.
But he didn't. Instead, he pulls your face back up for another kiss, this one was a lot less angry. There was still that heat behind each press of his lips, but it was more controlled, not like when he was trying to get you to stop talking. He presses his forehead against yours for a moment, the sweat from practice earlier dripping down his neck, it would almost be sweet if the situation leading up to it didn't happen.
"We have to be quick."
"Here?! Are you out of your mind, what if we get caught!?"
"Would you just let me-" You feel him move you to his forearm, where he pins you between the wall and his body. "You've got me so worked up! I don't know why I find your endless complaining and bitching so hot!" The confession spilled out of his mouth once again without a second thought as his hands move up your skirt.
His hands grope and squeeze at your thighs and then your ass pulling another sweet moan from your lips. "Don't act like you're free from it! You like to think you're sooooo much better than me but you're just like me!"
"I know!" He grunts as he pushes your underwear to the side making you shiver when the cold air hits your cunt.
Stan watches as your eyes flutter shut when he slams his fingers into your wet hole, his fingers coated with your sweet juices. He licks his lips when your mouth hangs open and a shaky gasp is pulled from you. "Look at you already so fucking wet for me. I thought you hated me huh?"
"Sh... shit. I-I do hate you!" Your weak attempt to bite back fall short when he curls his finger in you, slamming his fingers in and out of you.
His lips ghost over yours as he buries himself to the knuckle in your pretty cunt. He watches as you suck his fingers in further and further. The sounds you're making makes his cock throb in his pants, straining against the white material. "Yeah? Doesn't feel like you hate me. You were ordering me to fuck you earlier."
"I-I... oh fuck! Harder!"
Stan smirks down at you and there's no comment this time. How can he when you look so damn sweet, nails digging into his shoulders clinging to him for dear life. He stops his fingers and glares down at you. "Say please."
"B-bite me."
He does. He leans down and bites down on the tip of your ear, his husky voice laced with danger. "I'm not moving my fingers from your cunt until I get a please."
"G-God damn it Stan j-just.... ugh please! Please go harder!"
For a moment he looks up like he's thinking about it, pondering whether he should or not. You could have smacked that smug look off his face but when his fingers drill deeper into you all you can do is throw your head back. As if it wasn't enough, he finds that perfect spot, making you clench around his digits.
"Fuck you look so good when you're like this. You gonna cum around my fingers princess? Go ahead, let me feel you clench around them." He talks you through your orgasm with a steady tone, making you lull your head to the side as you reach your climax.
His fingers stay buried in you for a bit before he pulls them out, you almost whimper at the loss of them. But it was cut short when he wrapped his lips around his fingers. Sucking the slick off his digit while keeping eye contact with you. The telltale sign of a blush crept up your neck and across your face when he removed his index finger from his mouth.
"You're so gross..."
"Whatever." He clicked his tongue at your comment, even after he pulled an orgasm out of you; you still had something to say. His hands move across your ass again giving the flesh a firm squeeze. You slapped his shoulder when he chuckled at your little squeak. "Hmm~ I liked you begging. Let’s see if I can't get more of that out of you."
He moves his hands down to his pants and slips them down to his thighs. He fumbles for a moment with his boxers before he just decides to give up and pull his cock through the flap. He did say this needed to be quick and he already wasted time fingering you against the gym wall. Not that he regretted it, he had half a mind to do it again, but if the precum leaking out of the slit of his cock was anything to go by he need release soon.
Stan glides his cock against your folds a few times, coating his cock in your arousal, his breath hitches when you roll your hips back. When his eyes meet yours again his knees almost buckle under the weight of your lustful gaze. The way your eyelids lower and your mouth falls open again with each drag of his cock. He takes the base of his member and slaps it against your cunt a few times. "Come on princess, tell me you want this. Tell me you don't really hate me."
"I...." You trail off, letting your stubborn attitude take over but Stan isn't making it easy. Each passing second you don't answer him he nudges the tip of his cock in your entrance, not quite pushing in to give you that pleasure. "I hate that I like it that you call me that! I hate the way my heart speeds up when you kiss me! I hate that I like you!" Your words roll off your tongue like a confession, the way you throw your head back the frustration growing in your tone.
Stan growls again, that sound being pulled out of him more times today than his entire life, but he can't resist you. It's like he's a puppet and you're holding all the strings. His hands come up to your hips and guide you down the length of his cock just as your legs wrap around his waist. The muscles in your legs keep him in place making his cock throb again, you feel it bob against your walls.
"You have...no fucking idea...how much I've wanted this! Every time you got thrown in the air-" He lets out a shaky moan as he pulls you off his cock and slides you right back down. "Every... every time you giggled and flashed that perfect smile." Stan nuzzled into the crook of your neck while his hips begin to find the perfect rhythm. "Everything about you is perfect and I fucking hate it!"
Stan's little burst of irritation comes out from the way he begins picking up speed. You cling onto him as he continues piercing up into you, your arms wrapping around his neck to try as your back slides up and down against the wall. "Oh god Stan!"
"Listen to yourself. Calling my name like that, you drive me crazy! I'm not going to be able to stop. You gonna let me cum in you? I don't wanna stain that pretty uniform of yours." The way he's moaning out your name in between breaths makes your stomach do flips.
You can't find the strength to answer so you settle for nodding and moaning his name. He doesn't say anything else besides the occasional cursing and small grunts, so focused on bullying your insides. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten until the knot starts to snap. Your walls grip his cock as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your voice has gone hoarse from moaning and screaming his name. He feels his cock twitch when he sees you climax around him, it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The way your mouth hangs open, lips slightly swollen from how hard you kissed him. The way your hair was out of place and the way your uniform was messed up from how hard he was thrusting into you.
"Fuck...I'm...I'm cumming." He groaned as he emptied himself inside you. Thick hot arousal shooting up and painting your insides, it made you whimper and squirm.
There was another moment of silence that fell over you two, it wasn't the heavy awkward one the Coach had left you in. It was almost comfortable by the way Stan was pressing soft kisses into your neck, his lips moving up to your jawline and to the corner of your mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair again trying to smooth it out instead of tugging.
"So....this certainly was one way to work out our problems..."
Stan hummed in response as he slowly pulled you off him, you couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of loss again. As he pulls his pants and boxers up, he takes out the small towel he has tucked away in the pockets of his pants, and gently begins to clean your thighs. The action makes you smile a little, how one minute he could go from destroying you against a wall to treating you like some doll. When he sets you down his hands linger on your hips a little longer like he's trying to make sure you're alright enough to stand.
"Yeah...hey, I'm sorry. I'm not...good at confrontation and I shouldn't have got defense with you." His apology almost makes your heart break but at the same time it feels so warm.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my jealousy out on you. You didn't deserve that, it's not your fault." You fiddle with the material of his jersey, rolling it between your fingertips.
"Jealous? Why would you be jealous?" Stan asks completely dumbfounded by the idea.
"Because everyone always talks about you and your team! It's always how great you are, and everyone seems to like you!"
"Really? Because I always hear about how amazing you guys are. Every game the guys always feel better knowing that even if we lose you guys were cheering for us. I can't tell you how happy Butter's has been since you let him join the squad." He chuckles and goes to move a lock of your hair behind your ear.
"Awh...that's so sweet." You look up at him with a little giggle and a smile, which he returns. "Now I feel all bad."
"Nah don't feel bad...I'm just glad we got this straightened out. I know it's a little backwards but...do you think I could take you out after the game tomorrow? Win or lose I just...kinda wanna spend more time with you." He gives you a sheepish smile and a small blush creeps across his face.
"Only if you don't mind me bitching." You joke back with a little hum, pushing yourself up against him.
"It'll go great with mine." He smirks back down at you and places a kiss on your lips.
Word travels fast around campus. When you both walked out of the gym smiling at each other neither teams could believe it. Even more so when next week you were walking around with Stan's jacket over your shoulders and your pinky wrapped around his. The star quarterback's last name written in big blocky letters on your back and your lipstick staining his cheek. Definitely not a normal way to start a relationship, but that was you and Stan's little secret.
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void-bitten-ghost · 4 months
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Modern Mizu, welding major, nationally acclaimed swordswoman, falling for a skeet shooter/gun enthusiast
(Mentions of guns, childhood trauma, and a panic attack ahead)
She hates it. She hates that sport with a passion because her birth father had a gun collection he liked to hunt with. (And was also a racist, narcissistic, homophobic, abusive piece of shit but aaaanyway)
She falls for you. She falls for your kindness and your snark. How you hold yourself. But she cannot fucking believe it had to be you. You with the gun licence and the weekend trips down to the gun range to practice--
But.
But but but
Imagine that first time you convince her to face her fear (she's not scared, she'll insist, but goes along with it. For your sake. Just to shut you up.) And you have her in the same booth with you. Headphones on, you slip your arms around her to steady her hands. To correct her form.
She knows how to shoot, but she doesn't tell you that. Not when she can have you pressed against her, breath kissing her neck just like that. She almost forgets for a moment what it is she's actually holding. Almost.
When you step away, it's like she's been unmoored. A ship in an angry, turbulent ocean with no light in sight--
You notice the shakes first. Then the heavy breathing and how her chest seems to cave in with every exhale as she aims. You've seen panic before, but never in Mizu's eyes and immediately you return to her side. You touch her shoulder and she jolts. The gun goes off.
You wait. And then you have the gun out of her hands right as the first sob rips from her. It's placed on the table and you're holding a trembling Mizu with absolutely no idea of what could have caused this reaction. Regardless, you hold her as she allows herself to crumble.
And it is a choice she's making. She makes the choice to trust you. She could have fled. She could have chosen anger and avoidance instead of this-- this vulnerability. But she didn't. Doesn't. Instead she let's you hold her while her legs try to give out. Instead, she turns into you, using you as her lighthouse in this shitstorm of trauma and bullshit.
You don't ask questions. You just guide her out, take off her headphones and goggles and sit with her until the shakes stop. And that's why, later, she tells you about her birth father.
"Well," you start. "Now I feel like an asshole."
"You are an asshole," she quips with the smallest smile and you laugh despite your guilt.
"But you didn't know," she reassures, her hand on your knee as you both sit slumped against a wall. "And besides, I wanted to come with you today. I wouldn't be here otherwise."
You hum, handing her your energy drink. She grimaces, but takes it at your insistence, putting it to her lips and taking a sip. You watch far too long and closely for it to be appropriate and have to physically tear your eyes away from how her bowed lips perse, how her delicate throat moves to swallow and her nose scrunches up at the sharp, sugary taste...
She really is so unfairly breathtaking and all you want in that moment is to be able to look at her. But you can't. You have to focus your eyes on the open bottle she hands back to you, and then you have to focus even harder on not thinking about the idea of an indirect kiss as you take a long drink of your own.
Okay yeah anyway this is just brain vomit but change my mind alright
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sapphic-agent · 5 months
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How would you have redeemed Bakugou?
I'm glad you asked😈
So, this actually isn't a very hard question to answer. Bakugou should have been an easy character to redeem as a) he's young and b) he embodies everything wrong with society so as our main character resolved (or should have resolved) to change that, it should have been easy to change Bakugou along the way. Let me break it down.
Class 1A doesn't like Bakugou A big point of contention for not only Bakugou but 1A as characters is the fact that he's explicitly awful to Izuku (and them even if it isn't as bad) and half of 1A doesn't care while the other half outright admires him. Kirishima and Mina especially as a later point of both their characters is that they don't like bullies, yet they end up as part of his friend group and take his verbal abuse.
I would have kept up a general indifference/disdain for Bakugou that was showed at the beginning of the show. Kaminari (another one who ends up as part of his group unfortunately) clowning him should have been kept up the entire series, as well as Tsu pointing out how awful and annoying he is. Bakugou's attitude should have kept him ostracized from the majority of the class.
Because Kirishima is a big part of the reason Bakugou starts to change, I would keep him Bakugou's friend. But he doesn't tolerate any of Bakugou's disrespect and consistently calls him out.
Uraraka and Iida defend Izuku from Bakugou This kind of ties in to the first point, but I think Uraraka and (especially) Iida should have shown more concern. Bakugou's behavior isn't normal and I think the two of them of all people should have been aware of that. I mean, you see your friend who doesn't defend himself and looks terrified for his life being yelled at and assaulted by someone with a dangerous quirk and you don't do anything?
I feel like for who Iida is, he would look down on that and would make the effort to chew Bakugou out. Izuku's friend constantly calling something out would stress to him (and the audience) the fact that how Bakugou treats him isn't okay and shouldn't be condoned.
Aizawa chews him out Unfortunately, Aizawa has to give Izuku a hard time because that's who his character is, but he should have been just as hard (if not harder) on Bakugou. Bakugou, who has been careless with his quirk and has deliberately disobeyed his instructors. Bakugou, who threw a literal temper tantrum at the Sports Festival. Bakugou, whose actions put fellow classmates in danger.
I've said this before, but it's so insane to me that he consistently sticks up for Bakugou while actively talking down to Izuku. You would think that Bakugou would be the kind of hero Aizawa hates.
He loses to Todoroki (or Uraraka or Shinsou) Him losing would be the start to him having to deal with failure. He should have been humbled this early in the show. It would have also been a great segway into him learning that saving people should be a hero's top priority, not being the best. Winning isn't everything and it should be the last thing on a hero's mind.
And I know the whole point in canon is that he didn't get to win the way he wanted to, but that doesn't negate the fact that he still won and was regarded at the best in 1A.
His actions at the Sports Festival turn pros away Idk about anyone else, but I would not want a walking PR liability nightmare in my agency. He threw a temper tantrum on live television. He attacked his unconscious, defenseless opponent and had to be knocked out. Why on Earth was he still given so many offers (over 3,000 is beyond ridiculous, I would even say Todoroki's number was dumb too)? And the fact that Tokoyami and Iida were given way less offers is just insulting, they got third place.
This would have been a good time to stress that his actions have consequences and that he can't do and say whatever he wants and still get everything.
The fact that everyone- students, teachers, and pros- are so desensitized to his attitude and behavior is extremely concerning (especially for the teachers and pros).
Best Jeanist teaches him more I appreciate Best Jeanist's efforts, but let's be real he focused way too much on Bakugou's style. I give him leeway because he isn't a teacher (and still did way better than Aizawa), but Bakugou needed a reality check. He should have been more focused on teaching Bakugou and telling him why his attitude needed to change.
(He also should have been kept around for the work studies. Bakugou didn't spend nearly enough time with him. And why is it that the only adult who genuinely wanted Bakugou to be better past getting stronger the one who had to "die" and disappear? Any other hero could have been used and it wouldn't have changed anything)
Bakugou doesn't pass the final exam This has been said a lot so I won't go into how he passed and Sero didn't, but the fact that his actions here went completely unchecked is disgusting. He was deliberately uncooperative and assaulted his teammate and somehow still passed? Excuse me? Aizawa has expelled students for less, but Bakugou didn't immediately fail? Anyone else would have been suspended at the very least.
Bakugou needs to be held to the same standard as everyone else. Giving him special treatment just enables his terrible behavior.
Aizawa actually admits fault in allowing Bakugou's behavior to go unchecked and actually makes good on his promise to fix it The fact that Aizawa spent that press conference deflecting from the actual issue is extremely annoying. Yeah, Bakugou works hard. So do all your students and you're not singing their praises. Not a word about Izuku who literally works out during class whenever he can. Not a word about Uraraka who learned hand-to-hand combat.
That all means squat diddly when Bakugou has repeatedly broken rules and received less than a slap on the wrist for it. Using how hard he works as an excuse is a copout, especially when it was his own actions that got him kidnapped in the first place. He knew he wasn't supposed to confront the LOV and insisted on it anyway.
Todoroki doesn't fail the provisional licensing exam For once, Bakugou has to face the full consequences of his actions on his own. And this is where he really starts to ponder if Best Jeanist was right and that his behavior isn't becoming of a hero. If everyone else passed and he didn't, doesn't that mean that he really is doing something wrong?
(Personally, I would make it so that he would have to try against in his second year, but that's subjective)
Bakugou doesn't get to know about OFA Instead of rewarding his terrible behavior, All Might should have given him a reality check. That being strong isn't what makes a hero. That Izuku earned One For All because of his heart. That the toxic ambition that Bakugou has is what helped shape Endeavor into a monster (let's pretend he knows about the Todorokis) and that he's going down the same road.
And this would be the turning point for Bakugou. What makes him stop and look at himself in the mirror and realize that he doesn't want to end up like that. That he doesn't want to be a monster.
And that's when everything I mentioned before finally clicks for him. This is where Bakugou really starts to change, and not because he forced his way into knowing a secret that was none of his business. But because he's being forced to realize that his actions aren't hero material.
This is where Bakugou begins to actually put in the effort to change. Not to get him what he wants, but because it's the right thing to do.
(None of that save to win bullshit)
Small, but meaningful changes Bakugou begins to be more mindful of his behavior. It's nothing big, but he makes an effort to stop insulting his classmates. If he starts, he stops himself. If he does, he owns up to it and apologizes.
He drops the shitty nicknames and starts to show the bare minimum of respect towards his classmates. He leaves Izuku alone. He takes it upon himself to go to Aizawa (not that I think canon Aizawa would be much help, but let's pretend for the sake of this) and ask how he can improve. He makes the genuine effort to change and improve. He actually gets better.
Accountability Bakugou confesses what he did to Izuku to Kirishima. Kirishima is rightfully upset and chews him out, but understands that Bakugou is genuinely trying to change. He tells him that he needs to find a way to apologize.
And Bakugou does. He apologizes to Izuku privately and owns up to everything. Not just in Aldera, but everything that happened in UA too. He shows actual remorse and sincerity, no excuses or reasons and no sugarcoating. Just a real apology owning up to the fact that there was no justification or logic behind his behavior and a promise that he will be better.
And Izuku thanks him. He doesn't accept or refuse it, he just says thank you.
1A somehow overhears. And Izuku's friends give Bakugou a piece of their mind. The rest of the class is rightfully horrified and upset. This leads to Bakugou being even further ostracized from the class (they aren't mean to him or anything, but they don't like to be around him).
Save to Save Bakugou's arc comes to completion when he risks his life to save someone. Not Izuku, just someone, anyone. Someone who needed to be saved. It isn't even during the PLA War or any other significant event, it's a random occurrence. He doesn't think about it, his body just moves. He saves that person successfully, and then collapses from his injuries.
Maybe he lives, maybe he dies. Who knows? That's not the important thing. What's important is that it signifies that he really did change by willingly giving up his chance of being the #1 to do the right thing.
That is how I would have redeemed Katsuki Bakugou.
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sunandflame · 6 months
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Shards of Glass, Chapter 8
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Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.
Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader
Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)
Word Count: 1745
Warning: domestic issues (not abuse)
Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass
Crossposted on AO3
Masterlist of Shards of Glass
This was bad. This was really really bad. She tried her best to suppress the tears, but they continued to stream down her cheeks even after she managed to barricade herself in the toilet stall. Why now? Why here? She tried to think of several explanations, but there were none. She didn't know why she reacted so extremely to it. It was her who rejected him. Her, who saw his heart break into tiny pieces at her words. And yet she felt her throat tightening, her own heart breaking just like his as if there was an invisible connection between them both.
The argument with Kenji didn't make things any better as it only added more stress to her. She didn't want to go home because she knew there would just be a new argument. A new reason to fight. She felt terribly alone and needed to talk to someone about it. 
She calmed down eventually, washed away her tears at the sink to look somewhat decent again and decided that she had to find Giyuu.
She found him immediately. Luckily he was alone in the sports hall and was cleaning up the equipment from class. He immediately felt her presence and turned to face her. His eyes widened when he saw her and concern was written in his otherwise expressionless gaze. There were no remnants left of her tears and yet he was able to sense that there was something wrong with her. They weren't best friends and cousins for nothing. As soon as he asked the question, “What happened?”, her tears started anew and she threw herself into his arms.
Confused and overwhelmed by this outburst of her emotions, he was at first taken aback until he gently put his arms around her and let her cry on his chest. He didn't say a word though it wasn't necessary. Giyuu's calm manner, which always reminded her of still water, calmed her immensely and when her tears dried up, she took a step back to look at him again.
“I messed up and I don’t know what to do.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
In short words she told him everything that had happened so far. “And he just confessed to me and it made everything more complicated.”
“How so? Did you not reject him? You have a boyfriend that you love, right?” Giyuu's pragmatic question stopped her in her tracks.
Did she love Kenji? The fact that she hesitated at this question was actually very self-explanatory.
She remained silent and saw Giyuu sigh. “Then let me ask you another way: Do you love Rengoku?”
Another awkward silence that gave them the answer he wanted. She couldn't deny it and yet she couldn't confirm it. She belonged to Kenji but- “You know how long Kenji and I have been together. I don't want to throw away all these years just because of-" She interrupted herself, not daring to say it. “You’ve known Kenji for as long as I have! We were all in one class together back then. Do you even like him?”
“I don’t hate him.” Giyuu’s answer was short.
“But you don’t like him?”
“He doesn’t fit with you.” He saw her surprised face at his words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, Y/N, I can’t tell you what to do. You have to decide this on your own. The only thing I can say is that you love Rengoku more than you loved Kenji in all these years.” 
~ ~ ~
She layed in bed, her gaze turned briefly to Kenji, who had his back turned to her. They had finally managed to talk to each other without it ending in an argument, but the situation didn't feel good either. Giyuu's words were circling in her mind. You love Rengoku more than you loved Kenji in all these years. Was that true? There was an undeniable and unique connection between the two of them. Something unexplainable. She hadn't forgotten the feeling she had when they first met. The constant feeling of deja vu had not subsided. She had only successfully pushed it aside.
Her hand reached for the metal of the Water Lily pendant on her collarbone and she sighed deeply. She should try to sleep. Tomorrow was also a day. That was her last thought before she spiraled into a dream that she thought she had long forgotten.
There were actually several dreams and impressions that bombarded her. So many feelings overwhelmed her. Fear, happiness, desire and sadness. Infinite sadness at the end. She woke up with a slight startle and immediately looked around. 4:34 a.m. Kenji was still asleep, but Shimizu, her black cat, had noticed her restlessness and had jumped onto her lap, purring, brushing her fluffy face against her own to show her affection. She gently stroked her back and scratched her head, trying to sort through the many impressions that created a chaos that echoed in her head. She tried to sort them out.
"You probably saw my father in me. He was the former Flame Hashira."
"We can train together if you want! You can be my Tsuguko!" 
"Hating yourself only gets you so far, be proud that you survived."
“But you don't need to be afraid of him as long as I'm with you."
"You are not alone in this. I won't allow that, so share your pain with me."
“Y/N! I love you and I would be happy if you could become my girlfriend!”
"If you keep it up like that you'll surpass me, my water lily! Or should I call you now my little flame? 
"You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily..."
"Yes, we will always stay together..."
"When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful."
"I will see you in heaven, my love."
She hadn't even noticed the tears running down her cheeks as she pulled Shimizu close, letting them fall silently into her fur. She finally knew how she recognized Kyojuro, but all the remaining impressions from her dream gave her a headache and she needed a quiet minute to think about them. 
Still, the realization hit her hard. Did she understand that correctly? Kyojuro and her knew each other from a past life? Or was her brain playing games? But how would someone then explain the connection? Or what happened when they first touched in the car the other day, after the drinking party. The vision of him gently kissing her knuckles just to pull her into a passionate kiss. That wasn't wishful thinking back then, no.
‘You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily…’  Was that the reason why she bought that necklace back then? Not because of that sweet memory she had as a child with Giyuu but because of that? Was that the reason why Kyojuro was so fixated on it too? He must have known it! The universe had known, but she had remained clueless until now. The headache got worse and she looked out the window that announced the sunrise. She'd better get ready for work.
~ ~ ~
School life was weird, but it was like that every Friday. She didn't avoid Kyojuro, but they didn't meet either. Her feelings were renewed in chaos and she didn't know what to do next. During her break she decided to take a walk to clear her head, but she kept wondering what she should do next. She considered the situation from every angle but couldn't come to a conclusion that wouldn't rip the heart out of a particular party.
She stopped briefly and looked at the cloudless sky. "What would you do?" She asked it out loud. A question she didn’t ask herself but to her past self. She seemed to have known everything better and was able to make difficult decisions. She sighed, she hadn't been really waiting for an answer in the first place? She was about to turn around when a sudden gust of wind blew through her hair and a heart-shaped leaf landed on her face. Puzzled, she took the leaf off her face and looked at it and knew what she had to do.
~ ~ ~
Never in her life did she expect to end up in such a situation. In a situation where she was wandering around homeless and watching the sun go down. Well, she had to blame herself for it, but it had all happened so quickly.
She wanted to have a rational conversation with Kenji - she was also able to, to a certain extent, until she brought the topic up. The topic that involved that things no longer worked between them. The terrible accusations and things she had to listen to. The accusations that she’d cheated on him and many more. She would never do such things and if he would not be so filled with anger and jealousy he would realize it. It quickly turned into a loud argument that got so bad that she simply grabbed her jacket and left their shared apartment.
It hadn't felt like home in a while and it still hurt. She walked aimlessly for a long time to clear her head until she came to a park bench and sat down. Now the tears flowed and her vision blurred until she felt something soft against her leg. She was startled and quickly wiped away her tears only to see that Shimizu had followed her this far and was meowing at her worriedly.
“Shimizu, you loyal soul…” Renewed tears flowed as she picked her up and pressed her face into her warm, soft fur. It felt so good to know that she wasn't alone. Y/N didn’t realize how the time passed by when it suddenly started to rain. 
Shimizu’s desperate meowing worried her. Without a second thought she took off her coat and placed it over her to protect her from the rain. She took the cat in her arms and started running in a random direction. 
The streets soon became familiar and there was only one person who happened to live nearby.
Drenched from the rain she stood at the threshold and pressed the buzzer. Kyojuro opened the door with a smile that dropped quickly into a surprised face. He probably did not expect her here, at this hour. “Hi…” She breathed while she stared back at him. “Could you take in two strays who got caught up in the rain?”
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A/N: Hello my sweethearts... This story will take a little break and won't be updated weekly anymore. I was able to queue them as I had the chapters prepared beforehand but you know how irl things can turn your muse low. That doesn't mean I won't continue or finish this series! It will just be slower in the future. I hope you all can forgive me than I left you hanging with this cliffhanger.
I know I said I won't do a tagging list, but that was because this story had a regular schedule. So if you want to be tagged into the next chapter, than let me please know in the replies down below.
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yrluvjane · 11 months
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| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 |
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Chapter One: The Night it Bled
Warning: Angst, self-hate.
Summary: 8 years after the haunting incident of Lord and Lady Potter on 31st of October 1981, Harry and Jean finally visit their parents, However, Harry's feelings towards the trip are concerning .
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Harry and Jean were met with the familiar smell of soaps and cleaners and the triggering scents of — well hospitals; which, ironically, made them feel sick as they walked into St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
They were in what seemed to be a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests.
The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very peculiar noises... Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards. Jean noticed the emblem embroidered on their chests: a wand and bone, crossed.
They followed through the double doors and along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with more portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soapsuds.
More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed one door, and every now and then they heard distant wailing.
The fourth floor housed the Janus Thickey Ward, which was for the treatment of spell damage. It addressed unliftable jinxes, hexes, curses, incorrectly-applied charms,
"This is our long-term residents' ward. For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement." The nurse introduces. "We usually keep the doors to the door locked to stop patients from wandering about."
"We do, however, allow patients to surround themselves with their personal possessions to make them feel more at home and, in many cases, to help remember who they were." She says, and Harry doubts that anyone other than Remus is listening to her.
His uncle Sirius is busy trying to cheer his sister up with jokes that he doubted was appropriate at a hospital and evidence of that is when a passing nurse gaped at Sirius and immediately rushed to tell another nurse.
Though Harry did appreciate Sirius trying to put a smile on Jean's face, and he was sure she too was grateful. "Mr. Potter, Miss Potter..." The healer calls and faces the siblings with an unsure look, wandering her eyes to the two adults with them before crouching to their level.
Jean crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the Healer.
"This is the first time visiting your parents, no?" The latter asked. Both the ten year old and eight year old nodded. "Your parents were hit with a rather strong charm... when they came here, they were very hurt, and they were missing -"
"We know what happened to them." Jean says with a harsh edge to her tone. "Jean! Don't be rude." Harry stated, looking at his younger sister in disbelief. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, but it's fine. We expect this from everyone. I just want to warn you that they may not recognise you and to ask you not to mention anything related to the events of that night or your relationship with them." The healer asked, and Harry stared confusingly at his uncle Remus, then faced the healer.
"Why not?" Harry asked, sharing a worried look with his sister. Jean finally let her arms down. "Lord and Lady Potter seem to experience an unexplainable surge of pain whenever one brings up that fateful night, and sometimes these surges lead to excruciating mental pain or seizures."
"Why?" It's Jean that asks, her voice is soft and barely audiable with sadness, and Harry can see her chest rise and fall rapidly as she tries to prevent herself from crying. Sirius puts a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was must have worked cause the next thing she did was playfully push Sirius and send him a narrowed look.
Harry doesn't appreciate the pity he sees the mediwitch gives them, but he understands where it's coming from. After a rather long and partially unnecessary pep-talk from Remus and Sirius, Harry pulls his sister aside and takes her in a hug. The younger girl stares at him sadly before poking his face, "You're too emotional, y'know that right."
"Pads says I get it from dad. And you're too quiet. It's okay to hurt every once in a while." Jean only raises her brows, Harry grins they had only been arguing the other week on how he could lift one brow at time and she couldn't.
"Remus says I'm like mum, I'm taking that as a compliment." She says as she pushes his glasses back up his nose and smiles. Harry looks over her shoulder where the mediwitch is talking to their uncles in hushed tones and wary glances. Remus looks up and catches Harry eyes, he sends the raven-haired boy an encouraging smile.
"If you don't want to go in, we can come back some other time." Harry states, scratching mercilessly at his palm, his sweating in his clothes even if though the room they're in is spelled with cooling charms. "I can handle it, I'm not a baby, Harry!" She hisses at him. "I'm not! I– I'm not–" Harry can feel tear stinging in his eyes as he looks at the small creak between the ward's doors.
Behind those are his parents, his parents. Harry doesn't know what’s worse, this or not having parents at all. At some point in his life he forgot he even had those. It doesn't feel like he has parents. Remus and Sirius are his uncle's but Lord and Lady Potter were like fictional characters to him, they were heroes in the eyes in the wizarding world and for some reason everyone need to make it sound as though they were dead. And he has to wait, wait for that wave of emotion to hit when he realises they may not be buried in a coffin but they don't exist anymore, they don't even exist to each other.
He has to go in, he decides, next year he leaves for Hogwarts and he can't have—He can't have not met his parents! And he knows Jean wants to see them, she's stuck on it too. He doesn't blame her but Harry doesn't want go, he—
It's my fault Harry wants to say. The Dark Lord wanted him. Why did his parents and Jean need to suffer. He'd rather die than let his sister go through this. "I'm scared, Jean." He blurts quietly, and it's clear on his face and in his voice. Harry feels as though his under veritaserum. It comes out of him like a secret, and he feels a bit relieved when he says it. Jean's demenor immediately changes.
Despite Harry being the older one, his sister has always been the mature one. There it is, pity and sadness in her eyes, and Harry wants to hit himself against the wall. He can't handle it, not from her.
"Harry, why didn't you say anything?" She asks, pulling him closer and further to the side. She looks at him as though he's a wounded bird as though she might break him if she looks hard enough. "Because I'm not supposed to be scared!" But he is, he's scared they'll blame him. He knows it he's fault he sees every time Remus or Sirius or Jean look at a picture at mum or dad. But to hear it from them, the thought enough makes him feel sick.
He realises he's been for too quiet and Jean turns around towards their uncle's, no doubt about to ask them to leave. Harry manages to get there before her and declares they're ready.
He ignores the look of shock and disbelief from his sister and pulls his hand back when she tries to reach for him. The mediwitch puts an unnecessary hand on their back and whispers in their ear where they are. But Harry doesn't need her, he's already spotted his mum and dad the moment his stepped in.
They're far enough to not notice them but close enough for Harry to make out their faces. His dad is leaning back on a chair, his feet over the table, playing with a Snitch. His mum on the other hand is writing by the looks of it. While his father gives of an air of friendliness and companionship; his mother gives on of solitude, he head is hunched in her book and when Harry concentrates he can see her furrow her brows every once in a while.
He wants to see her and apologise and cry and be held and he wants her to hug him and tell him it's going to be alright. "I'll see dad." He mutters shamefully. It's truly a shameful Jean deserves to choose who to see first after all she was the one who was a baby and missed the chance to make memories with them then but Harry won't dare look at his mum.
He can't act as though he didn't sit there like an idiot that night and watched his mum and dad march to death just to save his useless existence. Jean is pulled by Remus for a hug, his whispering something while kissing her head, and Harry sees Jean nod. "How do you feel? Okay? Sad? Nauseous? We can get you something to eat. There should be a–"
"I'm fine, Pads." Harry whispers tiredly. He's so tired. He can't even bother to raise his glasses back up. He doesn't need to because Sirius does it for him. Harry smiles. It's mostly forced, but Harry can feel a genuiness somewhere. Contrary to popular belief, Sirius is the mum between him and Remus. Sirius kisses him on the head and ruffles his hair before playfully pushing towards his dad.
By the corner of his eyes, he can see Jean narrow her eyes at him with pursed lips and concerned brows. Now that he is getting closer to his dad, enough to make out the lightning shaped scar on his wrist, Harry gasps in a sharp breath before pushing himself forward.
"Hey!" Harry says awkwardly and is now aware of the itchiness of his hair. His dad, James Potter, turns toward him with a grin and suspicious eyes. He pushes his feet of the table and pockets the snitch. "Can I help you kid?" His dad asks.
Harry notes the dark curls they share, the glasses, the facial structure and it's almost like seeing an older version of himself. Everyone always tells him he has his father's look and grandmother eyes. It's Jean who is a complete copy of mum. Harry chokes on air and faces his dad with a worried expression.
"I'm...ahm...I'm Harry, Uncle Sirius' Godson?"
His dad's confused face almost instantly perks up, "Really? He talks a lot about you, y'know. His proud of you!"
"Oh uhm yeah, I guess...He's visiting someone and said I could come and hang out with you." Harry awkwardly lies. He begins to scratch the pad of his thumb in hopes to stop the bubbling sadness in his throat.
"You okay? You seem quite nervous? I promise I don't bite." His dad jokes and Harry misses the flick of an odd expression that sparks in his face. "Harry," James notes with a confused nod and said boy whips his head up in shock. "Yeah?" He asks unsurely.
"That's a really nice name." James says biting his lip and smiling, showing off his dimples. "So, Sirius tells me you're really good at Quidditch, a seeker right?"
"Yeah, my dad used to play." Harry replies with a small smile. Uncomfortable tears begin to burn his eyes and Harry needs to silently scratch at his thighs to prevent them from falling. "Is that why you play? Cause your dad used to?"
"I guess doing the things he used to do makes me feel as though he's doing it with me? It's crazy and weird. Whatever but I just...uhm...I just really make him proud." Harry admits, staring right back at his dad. The older man stares back it him with a soft smile and leans over to ruffle his hair. "You're a good kid, Harry. You're dad should be proud...I know I would."
"Really?" Harry asks and the tears that he's been trying to bury finally surface as James' scared face begins to blur. "No no no, don't cry. Please, don't cry." James' voice comes as Harry hangs his head down, tears falling freely. He feels his dad's hand over his shoulder and on his back; trying to calm him down.
"It's okay buddy. If it makes you feel any better my parents dead too." However, James realized that does not appropriate to say cause Harry let out a louder sob. "I'm sorry! I'm really sorry. I didn't mean too! I didn't know." Harry defends to his dad. He knows he won't understand what his saying or why he's saying it but Harry doesn't care. He wants to apologize, he wants his parents forgiveness, he needs it. He needs this pain, this guilt, to go away.
Harry's vision blurs as James takes of his glasses and wipes his tears with the sleeve of the red sweater his wearing. "Why don't talk about something else?...Remus says you have a younger sister! Why don't we talk about her?" James muses, hoping it will stop the little boy from crying.
Harry hiccups and almost laughs as his dad trips to get him water. "Here!"
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Chapter Three: The Calm Before the Storm
Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog
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