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#i don't really think its about politics anymore
trendymorgue · 1 year
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this blog has left the rails of tradition and i am sorry. but frankly so has the rest of the world. potentially important information needs to be shared amongst ourselves, it's how history would want it and how history has operated. the sharing of information. anyway you (all) should buy a gun, its fun amd easy and all you do is show up and point at a shotgun and buy it... at least here in minnesota.
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madfantasy · 2 months
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Good evening
I almost got my day made by bot heh...
Anyways, sending warm thoughts
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chewwytwee · 2 years
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#im not gonna be posting about roe v wade anymore#i have a few reasons but 1: go read the fucking news if you need info why are you relying on your tumblr dash to give relevant information#2: not wanting to add more doomscroll content to my blog isnt a moral failing its a survival tactic see point 1 go read the fucking news#3: I really really do hope that my blog can be a place of respite right now#like that sounds lofty and pretentious and ig it kinda is but idk theres no place you can turn right now that isnt talking about this#thats not bad. in fact its good that people are angry. I'm angry. I'm angry and im scared for the rights of every marginalized person#in the us right now. But goddamn just reading about how much everything sucks and how terrible everything is really isnt doing anything#. being informed is good but i dont think there is a single concievable way right now that you CANT be informed. if youre not aware of whats#going on in the supreme court at the moment I applaud you because jesus christ youre living off the grid#I don't know what to do about this. I am a single human being and the problem is hundreds of years of systemic oppression#the political inertia of whats happening alone is incomprehensibly large#and i dont know how to stop that. especially not from my fucking tumblr blog with like... 100 followers#if yall need to talk im here. I want my blog to be someplace safe rn#so yeah keep reading and keep being angry. I know im going to be#but im not gonna reblog anything else
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kinopio-writes · 2 months
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Hello dearie!!
How are you? I hope you're doing well!
I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!
Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?
The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.
They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.
Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?
I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3
Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!
Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!
Stay proud!
-Nina <33
A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).
Warnings: Mentions of death
———
Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child
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Alastor
• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse
• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway
• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”
• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by
• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”
• “But what about my mother?”
• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”
• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel
• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)
• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in
• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest
• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech
• and you’re so well-behaved, too
• up until he leaves your sight
• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that
• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell
• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down
• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother
• even when you talk about her a lot
• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything
• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her
• but, hey, at least he listens!
• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…
———
Husk
• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother
• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him
• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother
• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child
• so he took you in
• “But what about my mother?”
• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”
• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc
• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother
• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason
• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough
• only if you were asking him about her though
• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask
• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18
• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day
• the man in question sighed
• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day
• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”
• “Oh…”
• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”
• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”
• he smiled back
• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence
———
Vox
• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)
• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)
• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children
• but he’s a pretty busy guy
• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras
• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his
• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around
• but only around the other expendable employees
• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you
• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you
• they aren’t exactly good with children
• so he tried doing video calls
• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid
• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls
• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen
• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)
• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question
• skillfully
• like, extremely so
• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow
• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—
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wynnyfryd · 6 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 24
part 1 | part 23 | ao3
cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death
"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."
"Can I help you?" Max seethes.
Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?
"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.
"Who cares?" she bites back.
The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"
"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"
Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"
"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.
"Robin, what—?"
"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"
"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.
"An intervention."
Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.
"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."
A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.
"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."
"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.
"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."
'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."
"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."
"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.
"My parents are amazing, thank you!"
"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."
"Like I said: amazing."
Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"
"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.
"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."
She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."
Steve’s hammered.
Whoops.
Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.
He meant to get politely drunk.
A socially appropriate amount.
But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.
He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.
Five?
Six, maybe?
Fuck.
“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.
“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—
Oh, no.
Ohhhh, no.
Now? Really?
Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.
part 25
tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
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Two Lines, Two Idiots Chapter One: Knock, Knock. You Knocked Me Up
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Twin Brother JJ! x Maybank! Reader, rafe Cameron! x maybank!reader (all over 18)
TW:unplanned pregnancy, angst, violence, drugs, I think thats it
Summary: You should have listened better in health class.
Word Count:1.4k
A/N: New series alert! Love that for me
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There are a lot of worst-case scenarios that you're prepared for. It comes with the territory of being a Maybank. You tend to overthink and plan for things to go sideways. But this? This is nowhere close to being on that list. 
Not only are you staring down at two pink lines, but the father is quite possibly the last person on the planet you thought you would do this with. Perhaps he should be the first person you think about, but the only man on your mind is JJ.
He's going to be livid; it's bad enough his twin sister is knocked up. Who you got knocked up by is flat-out traitorous. He doesn't even know you've been seeing somebody, which is hurtful in its own right.
You excused your secret by convincing yourself there's nothing to tell; it's nothing serious. A friends with benefits situation, nothing more. At least it was.
Now, you don't know what it's going to be. You know for certain he's not ready to have a kid, and most definitely not with you.
You toss the test in the trash and wipe your eyes, deciding it's best to keep this to yourself until you know what you want to do. You aren't sure how far along you are, but if you had to guess you'd say about eight weeks.
Usually, you're careful, but one night in the Twinkie you threw caution to the wind, and now you're paying the price. 
You rejoin JJ, Sarah, and Kie by the hot tub, scrunching up your nose at the pungent scent of marijuana. You figure you probably shouldn't be around it anymore, but you can't really come out and say that. Instead, you try to keep your distance and breathe in as much fresh air as possible. 
Pope and John B are off doing something for Heyward and you're glad. JJ knows you well, but being your brother clouds his sight sometimes. John B on the other hand is your best friend and would know something is up immediately. 
You politely refuse when your brother tries to hand you the joint and he frowns. 
"Since when do you refuse getting high?"
You momentarily panic before smoothing out your features and recovering. 
"Just don't feel well."
It's a lame excuse and JJ rolls his eyes. 
"Well, weed will help. Here."
He pushes it toward you again and you lurch back, nearly tumbling off the edge of the tub in the process. 
"What are you pregnant or something? Just take a hit so he'll leave you alone."
Kie laughs as she says it, but falls silent when she notices the way your eyes widen slightly. So much for keeping it a secret.
Sarah seems to notice as well, shock covering her features as her eyes dart to your stomach. 
"Wait.."
Your mouth gapes as you try to come up with a lie, but your mind goes blank and you know there's no way out of this. 
Based on JJ's lack of reaction, you know he wasn't listening and you silently plead with the girls not to push it. They're too far gone, their minds hazy and reeling at the newfound information. 
"Y/N, are you pregnant?"
This seems to catch your brother's attention, and his head whips to look at you. 
His eyebrows furrow as he mistakes your panicked expression for one of confusion and he turns to face the girls. 
"Come on, Sarah. Give her some credit. My sister is stupid but she isn't dumb. Right, sis?"
He's looking at you again, and you can't help the tears that burn your waterline. 
"I-um.."
You watch as realization washes over him, his high dissipating as the secret is revealed.
"Oh my god. By who?!"
He's one octave below yelling, and you shush him harshly. 
"He doesn't know yet, okay? Just don't tell anyone, especially John B."
They all share a look at your request, the wheels turning as they all come to the same conclusion. John B is the father. 
JJ wants to press for more information, but the tears slipping down your cheeks stop him in his tracks. He pulls you into him, whispering sweet reassurances in your ear as he thinks about how he's going to beat the shit out of his best friend. 
In a sick joke from the universe, you hear the Twinkie pull up and aggressively dry your face. John B is laughing as he approaches, but his expression falls when he sees your swollen eyes. 
"What's going on?" 
His voice is laced with genuine concern, and it makes your stomach turn. You feel terrible keeping this from him, you're just not ready to face it yet. 
He ignores the way Sarah and Kie avoid eye contact, and does his best not to ask what the fuck JJ's problem is as he stares daggers at the side of his face. His attention is solely on you, a gentle hand coming up to cup your cheek. 
"What's wrong, sunshine?" 
You almost wince at the sweet nickname he reserves just for you, and despite your efforts to cover it up, he notices anyway. Hurt flashes in his eyes and he drops his hand, unsure what the sudden change in attitude is.
You've never once shied away from him, and he wracks his brain trying to figure out what he did wrong. He doesn't get the chance, watching as you stand abruptly and head inside. 
You stop suddenly and turn to face him.
"Can I borrow the Twinkie?"
He hands you the keys without hesitation, deciding it's best not to push his luck with questions. They all watch as you stalk off toward the van, and as soon as you're out of sight, JJ's hand is ripping him backward. 
He barely registers the violent movement before a fist is colliding with his cheek. He stumbles back and stares at JJ in shock.
"What the fuck was that for?!"
JJ is about to swing again when Kie pulls him back.
"J, don't."
John B is rubbing his face, still recovering from the blow, as his wild eyes dart between his three friends. 
"What the fuck is going on?!"
This only seems to anger JJ more and he lunges forward, barely restrained by Sarah and Kie. 
"My sister? Really, John B?"
His voice cracks from the sheer volume of his scream and John B takes a step back. 
"What about her?"
He's genuinely never been more lost than he is at this moment. Between your tears and JJ's rage, he's clueless.
"You got her fucking pregnant!"
John B's face contorts as he processes the statement and Sarah shoves JJ back. 
"JJ! That's not your place to tell him!"
John B runs a hand through his hair, only half the information sinking in. 
"Sunshine is pregnant?" 
JJ growls and takes a step forward, Pope now assisting in holding him back.
"Don't fucking call her that."
It takes a minute for him to catch up, but when he does, John B scowls. 
"Wait, did you say I got her pregnant?"
JJ laughs humorlessly, unamused by his friend's act of innocence. 
"Yeah, dickhead."
John B takes a step forward with his hands out, and JJ falters at the honesty in his friend's eyes. 
"JJ, man listen to me. I swear on my life, I have never even looked at her that way, let alone slept with her. She's like a sister. So unless she's the virgin Mary, it's not mine."
Everyone looks at each other as JJ goes lax, and they loosen their hold. 
"Then who's the father? If two plus two is four, and four plus four is eight, then what the fuck is this? The math isn't mathing."
Meanwhile, you're sweating bullets as your heart pounds in your chest. You weren't planning on doing this so soon, but with JJ knowing, it won't be long until he figures it out. 
You take a deep breath, doing your best not to puke as you turn into the long driveway. You pray no one else is home; the last thing you need is more people's opinions right now. 
Your legs tremble beneath you as they carry you to the front door and you take a deep breath as you knock twice. Your knees are seconds from giving out when the door swings open to reveal those blue eyes and that cocky smirk. 
"Back for more?"
His face drops when he sees the state you're in, and he ushers you inside. 
"What's wrong? Did someone hurt you? I'll kill them." 
You cut off his rambling with a featherlight grip on his forearm and he turns to face you. 
"No one hurt me, Rafe. Can we talk?"
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avatar-anna · 1 year
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Hiii can you please write a blurb where its hockey player h getting jealous? It can be at a party or maybe at one of figure skater y/ns competitions?
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i did that thing where i took an ask in a different direction, so if this was your request, message me and i'll do an actual jealous fic! i apologize, i was feeling angsty, protective boyfriendrry🤭🤭
trigger warnings: light depictions of sa, coping with sa
i don't pretend to know what it's like to be a victim/survivor or sexual assault, so if there is something that you may find offensive or unrealistic or glorified, please know that was not my intention. feel free to message me if you take issue with this fic, and i'll take it down.
all the love💕💕
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"Do you wanna get out of here?"
You were quick to shake your head, stepping away from the guy you'd been talking to. It was just a conversation, nothing more, one you didn't even really want to be having in the first place. But the guy had cornered you in the fraternity's kitchen, and you were looking for a polite way out.
"Uh...no. I'm actually here with my boyfriend," you said.
You hoped that would be the end of it, but instead of backing off he stepped closer. "You don't have to play hard to get, Y/n. I'm already into you, so come on."
Dread started to fill your belly. Peeking over the guy's shoulder, you saw that you were the only ones in the kitchen, and with the loud music playing throughout the house, no one would hear you if you needed to call for help. You hoped you wouldn't need to, but it was all you could think about as he leaned in.
"No," you said, trying to sound firm despite your trembling voice. "I said no, so if you'll excuse me—Get off m—!"
His hand was on your wrists and pushed you roughly into the wall hard enough to hurt. While you were still in a daze from being shoved, he made his move. His mouth, which was not at all like Harry's, was on yours before you could say anything. The guy tasted like stale beer, and his tongue kept trying to push past your tightly closed lips. Your skin crawled every place he touched—under your shirt and skirt, the inside of your thigh—and every time he whispered in your ear and his breath unfurled across your neck. You wanted to call out or push him off but you couldn't. You never thought you would be in this position, and now you were, and you just...froze.
When his lips moved to your neck, you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping if you stayed still enough your mind might drift elsewhere. "Please," you whimpered one last time, willing yourself to push back, but you couldn't make yourself move.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Harry's voice, that was Harry's voice. For a moment, you thought his angry tone was pointed at you, that he thought he'd caught you cheating.
"Nothing, man, leave us alone. We're—"
Things were a blur after that, but all you knew was the guy wasn't on you anymore and you felt exposed. The skirt you had carefully tucked into your skirt at the start of the evening was rucked up, the neckline pulled down. You kept your eyes closed, tears slipping out as you listened to the sound of a fight, of someone getting shoved against a wall and plates or cups crashing and fists connecting with skin. You didn't want to cry, you felt stupid for crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.
"Harry, please."
"Shut up!"
Your eyes stayed squeezed shut, but you could hear the altercation coming to an end as more people came into the kitchen, most likely pulling Harry and the other guy apart. Feeling someone crowd your space again, you tensed and shook your head, completely terrified.
"Hey, it's just me. It's just me, love. Can you open your eyes for me?" Harry said, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.
Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, more tears spilling out. "I promise I didn't—"
"None of that, baby. I know what happened. You don't have to explain," he said. Harry reached out to gently push a strand of hair out of your face, but you flinched. "Sorry. I—Should I get Kate? She's here somewhere. I'll—Let me text her."
Kate came in minutes, and she quickly ushered you out of the party and into her car. Everything felt like white noise, and you were seeing without really seeing. You knew Harry was there and keeping his distance, but you just wanted to go home, be alone. So Kate drove you, got you into bed and slept on the couch in the living room, making sure to lock the door when you started to cry and hyperventilate because she'd forgotten.
The next morning you felt marginally better, but not great, and the day after that was more of the same. On the third day, you felt comfortable enough to get out of bed, to shower and scrub at your skin until it was rubbed raw. You were shaken up, but you felt like you were back in your body again. That night you did everything in your power to not be where you were mentally. A few days later, you were more aware once again, not so scared or skittish, but that only meant the memories and the feelings you were keeping at bay returned in full force.
"Harry's at the door. Wants to check in," Kate said, poking your head into your room. You'd been up for a couple hours, watching TV on your laptop after you finally stepped out of the shower, but you hadn't come out of your room yet, hadn't said a word to anyone. Hadn't spoken to Harry since the party. "He's been coming here for the last three days, and I've been holding him off, but—He's worried about you."
You knew he was worried. He called and texted until your phone died, and then he resorted to emails. Harry hardly even checked his email unless he had to message a professor about a late assignment, but he'd been emailing you relentlessly when you didn't answer your phone.
"Did he...hit that guy?" you asked, recalling bits and pieces from that night.
"Did a little more than just hit him, but well-deserved in my opinion," Kate muttered. "Was like one of those brawls he gets into on the ice at games except he had a good center of gravity. That piece of shit didn't stand a chance."
You didn't know how to feel about that. You were well aware that Harry got into fights at his hockey games, you always rolled your eyes when he got sent to the penalty box after shoving a player into plexiglass or taking a swing when she should've skated back to his position. And he was the jealous type, you were well aware of that. Sometimes Harry would glare or kiss your neck when he thought guys stared too long. He was protective and jealous, but a sweetheart on the inside, and part of you liked how strongly he felt for you and that he wasn't afraid to show it. Now...you didn't know how to feel.
"He...He can come in."
Kate nodded and left your room. A minute later, she was back with Harry. He had a split lip and dark bags under his eyes, but other than that, he looked fine. Kate was right, Harry seemed to take care of that guy without much trouble.
"Hi," he said, stepping inside your bedroom. Kate closed the door once he did, leaving the two of you alone.
"Hi."
"How—How are you?" he asked then frowned. "That was a stupid question. Sorry, I—"
"I'm okay. Not okay, but better, I guess."
"Good. That's—That's good. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep."
Harry's hands were tucked into his back pockets as he leaned back and forth on his heels, his eyes struggling to pick something to focus on. He was nervous, you realized.
"You can sit down," you said, bringing your knees up to your chest so he could have space to sit on your bed.
"Right thanks."
He approached the bed, sitting down on the very edge. His hands stayed in his lap, foot tapping rapidly. Your eyes narrowed, a hand reaching out to take one of his hands in yours before you could think much of it. Harry's knuckles were cut up, reddish-purple bruises covering his skin. Ever so gently, you ran a finger over the bruises.
"It looks worse than it feels," he said, probably lying. "I know how you feel about fighting, but I couldn't let him get away with that. He—I saw red, and—Sorry, we don't need to talk about me."
"I didn't think anyone would come," you said. "We were just talking, and then all of a sudden we were alone and the music was so loud. I—I didn't think anyone would've heard me."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I went to the bathroom and went looking for you, I—I should've—"
"I don't blame you for not being there," you said. "You were there. I was just so scared, and I—I froze, I couldn't move, and I was so—"
"Hey, it's okay," he said. Harry tried to reach for you, but you pulled back. "I'm sorry I don't want to make you uncomfortable by touching you. I can go—"
"I have bruises on my wrists," you said, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over your hands. "And I don't want to feel ashamed, and I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but—but I do. I feel ashamed of what happened."
When you began to sniffle, Harry looked like he wanted to come closer, but he stayed put. "Can I?"
You gave him a small nod, and he gently took your left wrist in his hands. His touch was so delicate, you didn't even think he was capable of being that gentle. Harry pushed your sweatshirt back, and you quickly turned your head to the side, not wanting to see the bruised fingerprints on your wrists. You felt his thumb brush over the skin, and when your skin began to crawl, your shoulders tensed, and his thumb stopped.
"I went to the school board," he said. "The dean, or whatever. I told them what happened. I—I didn't mention your name, but I told them what happened so that...he could get expelled or reprimanded or something."
Your head had been resting on your knees, but at that, you looked at him. "You did?"
"Yeah, I—I'm sorry if I overstepped, but I couldn't just let him get away with it," he said.
You didn't know what to say. You'd been officially dating for a few weeks now, a little over a month, and things were still new, still fresh. But you liked this new relationship, and you didn't want what happened at the party to get in the way of something so good with Harry.
"I don't feel great, and I may have taken like a hundred showers since, but I think I just want...I think I could use a hug."
"I love hugs," Harry said, a small smile on his face.
You pushed the corner of your bedspread back to let him in, and Harry was quick to kick off his shoes and join you. His body was warm, the smell of his clothes perfect, his cheek against yours perfect. He was perfect. You felt comfortable in your own skin again with him next to you.
"And I could use a movie buddy," you said, opening your laptop again, firing up a rom-com.
"You've been pestering me to watch this with you," he mumbled against your temple. "But I'll watch anything if it means I get to hold you like this."
You blushed and squeezed his hand tight. Harry hissed a little, which made you mumble an apology before gently kissing his knuckles.
"I do hate when you fight," you mumbled, opening up your laptop again. "But this time it was deserved. If I have bruises, so should he. And I'm—I'm glad you told someone. Thank you."
"I wish I had been there," he said quietly, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist gently. "I should have been there."
You knew both of you could go around in circles about hypotheticals about that night, but it would be no use. Something horrible happened, and you wouldn't forget it, and neither would he. But the bruises would fade soon, and Harry was there for you, and so was Kate, and you would be okay. When he kissed your wrist, your shoulders tensed, but your skin didn't crawl, and when he rested his arm on your waist, you felt safe, not trapped, and when he asked if you wanted to get dinner when the credits of the movie rolled, you found yourself saying yes.
"This might be everything that happened and my emotions might be all over the place, so take this with a grain of salt. In the nicest way," you said. "But I think I might be in love with you."
Harry chuckled and helped you out of bed, waiting by the door as you slipped into a pair of sneakers. You didn't bother changing out of your sweats, even though you had to hike up the sweatpants you were wearing every few seconds because they were Harry's. Both of you were more than familiar with walking around in comfy clothes after practice or a training session. You were probably headed to McDonald's and back to your apartment for another movie anyway.
"Then I'll wait to tell you I'm in love with you in a month when we're on a proper date. Until then, shall we?"
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"I don't want to feel like this."
"I know."
"I shouldn't feel like this," you said, pulling Harry's covers up to your chest.
"You're allowed to have all the feelings you want, Y/n," Harry said softly, careful to keep his distance on the narrow bed. "We can wait. I don't mind just laying next to you."
"Yeah?" you asked, getting teary eyed for an entirely different reason.
"However long it takes."
You sniffled and reached for his hand, which he took. "Sorry about the uh... unfinished business."
"That? Can't even feel it," he said.
"Liar," you said, laughing a little. "But it makes you a reeeaaly good boyfriend."
Harry kissed the top of your head. "And it'll be reeeaaly worth the wait."
You laughed even louder, even fuller, this time, flicking him on the nose. "Pig."
Harry teased and joked with you, but on the inside, he felt relief. You'd come out of your room and gone back to class the last couple weeks, but you weren't quite yourself. You stayed covered up from head to toe, you stayed home on the weekends, and your heart wasn't in your training. You went and you were brilliant, but Harry could tell. He'd watched you enough to know if your heart was in it, and it wasn't.
So he learned when to be a shoulder to cry on and when to make jokes to make you laugh and when to put on your favorite movie. Harry had never been in this position before, he never thought he would ever be in this position before. But he didn't imagine you did either, so he tried his best.
He wasn't worried, though. You were in therapy and going to class and getting good grades and you didn't flinch anymore when people tried to touch you. Friends, anyway, sometimes strangers startled you. Progress was progress, though. Some areas were better than others, though. Since the party, you and Harry hadn't had sex, hadn't even kissed on the lips. You held hands and Harry kissed your head and cuddled on the couch or a bed, but it didn't go much further than that. And you were fully clothed each time.
But he was more than willing to wait. Harry knew taking time was important and he hadn't put pressure on you to do anything. It was you who wanted to do more tonight. You thought you were ready, you insisted that you were ready, but when Harry tried to take your top off, you pushed him away, feeling sick to your stomach.
"You'll get there. We'll get there," Harry promised, going over to his dresser to get a shirt. He tossed it to you, wanting you to be as comfortable in a t-shirt instead of the top you'd worn out tonight. He grabbed one for himself and was halfway into it when you stopped him.
"Could you maybe just—"
"What?" He asked, coming over to the bed where you were still covered up.
"It's stupid," you said.
"I can promise you it's not."
Blowing out a large sigh, you looked at him. "Could you maybe just not wear a shirt?"
"Of course," Harry said immediately. He shrugged out of the one he just put on and slid into bed next to you. "Not stupid at all."
"I just want...to feel you, but I don't want—"
"To do anything more. I understand."
So Harry let you position him just how you wanted on his bed, making sure not to accidentally lean or lay on your hair. Your hands were feather-light on him, like you were barely touching him at all.
Sometimes, late at night when you were fast asleep, Harry would feel inexplicably angry. Not at you, never at you. At that guy for hurting you the way he did, for violating you in a way that was still affecting you when he probably hadn't thought about it since. Harry could tell you looked for him when you were on campus together. Your eyes flitted to each face that passed you by, squeezing Harry's hand when you saw similar hair or frame. You were terrified to see him again, and seeing the panicked look on your face when you thought you did enraged Harry even more.
But there wasn't much he could do except wait. Wait for you to heal, wait for the storm to pass, wait to kiss you again. All of it was worth it, you were worth it, but sometimes he thought there was something he could've done to prevent all of this.
"You can stop beating yourself up, you know," you said out of the blue.
"What?"
"Don't think I don't know that look, Harry," you said, leaning up on your elbow to look at him. "I have never blamed you for what happened."
"I just wish I could help," he said, feeling his shoulders release tension they'd been holding since that night.
"You are. I don't know how to explain it, but I promise you are," you said, and that relaxed something in Harry too.
He was about to put on another movie when an idea came to him. "Get up."
"What?"
"Get up. I have an idea," he said, slipping back into his t-shirt and a hoodie.
Curious, you followed his lead, putting on shoes and letting him lead you to your car. "The rink," he said quietly, and even though you knew it was closed for the night, you went anyway. Harry didn't say anything, but you weren't really up for conversation anyway. You felt bad that you'd become a burden to Harry, that instead of a girlfriend he got...you. You wanted to be okay again, you wanted him to kiss you and feel you, you wanted to do more than just fall asleep next to him. But you just couldn't get his touch out of your head. You felt dirty and overexposed, and you weren't sure if you'd ever not feel that way again. You weren't sure if you should be selfish and keep Harry shackled to you while you found out.
"Come on," he said when you parked in the empty lot. It was almost midnight, which meant there were no more practices, no more games or private training sessions. It was just you and Harry.
He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, taking you by surprise when one slid into the lock with ease. The front door to the rink opened, cold air immediately hitting you as you stepped inside.
"Why do you have keys to the rink?"
"Being captain of the hockey team has its perks," Harry said with a shrug. "Come on, I want to show you something."
You followed him back to the boy's locker rooms, and past that to where the rink stored the equipment they rented out to local teams or families who wanted to start training their kids but didn't know what to buy yet. Harry grabbed a hockey stick, not quite as big as the one he used, and then a bigger one, and a few pucks.
"Do you have spare skates in your locker?"
"Of course."
"They'll do. We're not gonna actually play," he said, but he wasn't looking at you as he pulled out small nets from the back of the storage room.
When he had everything, he told you to grab yours and his skates while he set up the rink, not giving you a chance to respond. You did as he asked, using the combination he gave you before leaving the locker room to cross over to the girl's. Your spares were old, and the blades could've used a tune up, but they were comfortable and would hopefully work for whatever Harry had planned.
You quickly got into your skates and got on the ice, handing Harry's over once you reached him. "I think you need to get angry, and I think you need a way to just let it all out," he said as he laced up his own skates, which were much clunkier than yours. "So I'm gonna teach you how to shoot, and we'll go from there, okay?"
"Harry, I don't think—"
"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking at you like he wasn't actually sure if you did.
"Yes," you said almost immediately.
"Then let me help you do this."
So you did.
Harry showed you the basics of shooting a hockey puck at the net. He made it look so easy, so effortless, but when it was your turn, you hardly made the puck move. But Harry was patient, quietly telling you what you did wrong and helping you adjust your stance. Eventually, you got the hang of it, and when you hit the first puck with force, you didn't stop.
Harry had been right, you needed an outlet for everything you were feeling, and each swing of the hockey stick had you feeling more than just uncomfortable in your own skin or scared or sorry for yourself. You were furious that this happened to you, that you couldn't do anything to stop it, that this person left you feeling weak and broken. All of that anger went into your movements, and everything else fell away, including Harry, who hadn't said a word since you got the hang of it.
You didn't know how long you stayed on the rink, all you knew was the stick in your hand and the ice beneath your skates. It wasn't until Harry tapped you on the shoulder that you finally stopped. Your cheeks felt flushed and you were breathing heavily, but you felt good, and you hadn't felt good since that night.
"Your arms are gonna be sore tomorrow," Harry explained, taking the hockey stick before skating around to gather up the other equipment. When he made his way back to you, you were still huffing and puffing. Gently, Harry reached out and brushed a thumb across your cheek, then the other. You didn't even realize you'd been crying. "How do you feel?"
"Different," you said. "Like I could sleep forever."
Grinning, Harry said, "Then let's get you back."
Harry had been right, your arms were already starting to feel like jello. You were worn out, but in a good way. You and Harry walked back to the car in silence, though when you looked over at him, he had a small smile on his face.
"What?"
"Nothing, it's just the way you were hitting the puck," he said, shaking his head, curls falling into his eyes. He hadn't gotten a haircut recently, and now his hair curled past his ears and touched the collar of his shirt.
"What? Do I play like a girl?" you teased.
"No, but, like, you're really graceful about it. It's not a bad thing, just different."
"Well, maybe I could teach you a thing or two about grace," you said, leaning into his side. The rest of the walk to the car was quiet, like both of you were stuck in your own heads. But when you started the car to go back to his place, you said, "Thank you. You've been...more patient than other people might've been, I think."
"You don't have to thank me for being a good friend," Harry said. "You would've done the same for me."
He was right. If something traumatic happened to him, you would've been bending over backwards to help him. Somewhere down the line, you cared enough about him that you would be devastated if he was hurt in any way. It would've hurt you to see him hurt.
"When I'm ready...you're in for a treat," you said, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't want to feel like you were shrouded by a dark cloud anymore. "
Almost like he knew what you were trying to do, Harry played along. "Oh yeah? What can I expect?"
"That would ruin the surprise."
You saw Harry shake his head in your periphery, but it was an amused shake.
This felt right, the teasing and flirting. It felt normal. You weren't one hundred percent okay, but for the first time since that night, you believed that you would be, and Harry knew it too.
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oddballwriter · 8 months
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hello! Could i please request a one shot where Steven and Marc know about Jake's existence and they have been trying to get used to him and get to know him, and during a mission where they need help they found out Jake has been having like a long term relationship with the reader (who is Sekhmet's avatar)
And Steven its totally freaking out but also crushing on her but Marc its like "wtf how long has this been going on?"
Unexpected Addition
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Part Two
Summary: Life with a new addition is a bit tricky, but Steven and Marc are getting the hang of having Jake around. But what they don't expect is that Jake has a bit of a life of his own, including a love. Which sort of adds another addition. 
Warnings: The boys are fighting. Steven being a love sick puppy. Marc is kind of a dick in this not gonna lie. Mentions of some factors of D.I.D. . It's mentioned that Jake told reader about Marc's past, to a degree. There's some arguing about you and Jake being a thing for so long and kind of referenced that you and Jake technically overlap with Marc and Layla by a hair.
This fic is actually more of Steven just having a big stinkin' crush on you and Jake and Marc yelling at each other.  
Author’s Snip: I feel like this is good but not completely on the mark. Anon, if you want to throw me another scenario that's Jake centric with this idea/world then feel free. Just give me a sign.
Notes: I semi-proof read this so if there's weird grammar and shit just ignore it.  
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
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Jake was a surprise. Well, in the logic of common D.I.D. systems not really, but in the sense that neither Steven nor Marc knew he was there. It felt like a bit of a privacy breach to think that Jake's just watched everything go down from the shadows only to leave as soon as he came, and it was a bit unnerving to know that Jake was more off the hinges. But it's not like they could really do anything about him. Jake's a part of the system, whether they like it or not.
Jake honestly wasn't that much of a change up though. He usually did his own things and kept in his lane for the most part. Even if his tactics were more... forceful than Marc and Steven's were. Otherwise Jake would be something of an allusive one. He didn't seem to do much but they had a hunch that there was more than just Jake Lockley, the third alter, cabbie by daylight, and system parachute and low key Khonshu's hitman. And there was.
Because there was you.
Marc and Steven found out about you because they were on a mission that Khonshu demanded that they do. And it turns out Sekhmet had the same idea for you.
It wasn't like the two were in on it and it was a ruse to get you to meet the others. It was genuinely just an "Oops, did know you were gonna get it." sort of thing.
"Jake? Wasn't expecting a surprise team up with you. Usually boyfriends surprise their girlfriends flowers." you laugh under your breath as you try to not catch any unwanted attention. You didn't need anymore than the " Excuse me?" from Marc to know that it wasn't Jake you've bumped into. "I'll explain once we get this done. Just follow my lead for now." you say as you move on with what you were planning on doing.
"Okay... so..." you roll out trying to think of what to say after having just handled the mission, and now sitting at an empty park bench in your regular clothes, "My name is Y/N. What's yours?" you settle on as you lift your hand for a handshake, trying your best to have a non-nervous smile. "How do you know about Jake?" Marc asked, ignoring your polite gesture of formality.
"Marc. That is so rude. She's trying to be nice." Steven scolded from the puddle at his feet.
"Me and Jake are... together." you mumble out. "How?" Marc demanded. He looked so angry and menacing while he interrogated you. You've seen a lot of mean looking guys but when it's the face of someone you recognize as your boyfriend, you felt a bit trapped by the tense energy. You barely squeak out "I met him a while back.".
"Marc, if you just let me explain without making a scene it'll all make sense." you quickly speak out before he almost interrupts you, "How do you know my name. You were acting like you didn't know it a seco-".
Marc violently twitches before the tense scowl on his face disappears and is replaced with a softer worried expression after a second less violent twitch.
He looks at you, he sees that you looks a bit frightened, and then he speaks, with a British accent "I'm sorry about that... that-that wasn't me. I didn't switch us." he says, "Must have been-" he tries to say before you speak. "Steven, right?" you ask in a soft voice. He's caught a bit off guard that you said his name. He points to himself with a "Me?" and nods "Yeah.".
You stare at each other for a bit before you speak up. "Jake hasn't told you about me, I know. He just barely started being known to you guys and he didn't want to rush anything. I understood that and did my best to stay clear so that I wouldn't shock you two but I knew that there would be a fumble at some point." you explain.
Steven listens intently till you're done. It was either that or listening to Marc and Jake yell at each other in the reflection of the puddles.
"I only know about you guys because he wanted me to be ready when the time came for him to think that it was a good time for us to actually meet. I didn't mean to throw any of you through a loop like that. It's just been a while since I've seen him and I got excited." you apologize as you explain more.
"It's okay , love. It's just that we hardly know anything about Jake and finding out something so personal was a bit jarring." Steven says. You feel a little flutter at being called "love" for a second before Steven speaks again. He subconsciously touched your hand. "And I'm sincerely sorry about Marc's behavior. You were being courteous and he was acting like you were a danger when you were making it clear that your and Jake had some type of acquaintance." he apologized.
"It's okay." you comment. "Jake told me that Marc would be a bit... apprehensive about me. That's just how he is." you add.
"And me?" Steven questions with a bit of curiosity to what Jake might have said about him. "He said that if I meet you then you might be a bit flighty. Said that you were easy to spook." you say in a bit of a laugh.
Steven got to see more of you after that. You would spend some time to get to know each other more, which Jake approved of. He thought it was nice to see the two parts of his life that he kept separate finally meet. It was kind of like having cats meet for the first time where you watch them interact and then get comfortable with each other.
Steven, admittedly, and a bit too obviously, took a huge liking towards you. And you the same. You were fascinated with the other. He liked hearing about what you did as the avatar of Sekhmet and what that entailed for you both in mission and personal life. Along with what you just did in your regular civilian life. As for you, you were amazed to see a person who acted, talked, and even moved so differently than the person you usually associated his face and body with.
Unfortunately, you and Marc weren't taking to each other too nicely. Well, you were still perfectly friendly towards him any time you saw him. It was Marc who wasn't very enchanted by you.
Matter of fact, he and Jake were still at it with each other.
"How long has this been a thing?" Marc asked with the same demanding voice he did to you. "Three years." Jake answered in a nonchalant tone. "Three years?!" Marc repeated, unpleasantly surprised by the answer. Jake scoffed "Didn't she say we've known each other for a while?" Jake mentioned.
"So you've just been seeing this random woman for three years behind our back-? Behind Layla's back?" Marc fumbled out with anger. "You," Jake interrupted, "- Sent divorce papers to Layla. Not me." Jake clarified. "Not to mention. She was your wife. You made it very clear to Steven that she was off limits and I already knew that she was off limits. So sorry I went and found my own woman instead of hitting up yours." Jake quipped.
"Yeah and now it seems like Steven likes yours too." Marc said making his own quip.
"Good!" Jake bursted, "At least he's courteous enough to treat her with some respect and get to know her.". Marc would have spoken again but just beat him to it. "You're acting like I was going to hide you from each other forever. I would have had you two meet at some point once you were used to me. You three just met earlier then I would have liked." Jake explained.
"Did she know about Layla?" Marc asked. "Of course I told her about Layla! I was open and honest about my situation and what that would spell out for our relationship." Jake answered with an emphasis on the words open and honest. "How much did you tell her about us?" Marc demanded again before Jake exploded.
"Everything!" Jake barked. "I told her fucking everything I could! I told her about you. About Steven. Layla. Our condition. Everything about us, she knows. I wanted her to be ready for when you cross paths. I told her how to behave and what to watch out for so that she wouldn't startle either of you. And you know what? She did! She was going to explain everything to you if you would just let her fucking speak instead of grill her like that." Jake lectured.
Listening to the two fight was something that Steven would usually ignore. It seemed like arguing while getting to know each other was a thing in the system. Usually Steven would intervene if it was getting too bad or he was brought into it. But neither of those caught his attention because he was busy paying attention to you. Again.
"You look so different." you say almost out of the blue. "Excuse me." Steven spoke. "You look so different from Jake even though it's the same body." you remark.
"You have such different eyes. Yours are all doe eyed and round. Jake has a resting angry face. It's so weird." you smile. "And you smile different too. Jake only smiles a little and with the corner of his mouth, so it looks like a smirk. You smile with your cheeks." you add.
Steven flustered and felt shy under your gaze. The way you were talking didn't speak ill of neither him or Jake. You were speaking in admiration at what made them so different.
"You also don't have the little paperboy hat or gel." you point out as you look at the curls on his head. "Jake usually wears a little bit of gel to slick back some of his hair. I sometimes forget just how curly it is." you say as you gently reach to play with a few little curls. Steven honestly felt like he should be coughing up wings by now with the amount of butterflies he had going in his stomach and chest as you touched him. Even if it was just to admire him for a moment.
He did feel a bit guilty for enjoying your words and affirmation a little too much. He wasn't entirely sure if Jake would act the same as Marc did when he accidentally made contact with Layla. But then again, he hasn't had Jake barging in and being defensive about you. It felt weird to think about it this way but at least Jake was, seemingly, sharing. That or he's too focused on Marc when he's not the one fronting.
Steven did wish that Marc was nicer to you and more open to meeting you. You were very sweet and treated them nicely.
Maybe Marc would get to see you look at him and complement all the details about him like his eyes and his smile. You could get to know him and what he likes and how that contrasts with you. maybe you two could get used to fighting together in the cases that you bump into each other again.
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Text
Happy Anniversary?
Marlene's the first one to bring it up.
Remus is just sitting, trying to do his transfiguration homework in the common room when she pipes up.
"Hey, Remus, isn't your anniversary soon?" That's enough to draw his attention, head snapping up with a confused frown. "Any plans?"
"...anniversary?" He asks. Marlene looks at him like he's just spoken another language, or that he's magically turned into a brick wall.
"Yeah. Are you doing anything for it?"
"I have no clue what you're on about," he says simply, expecting that to be the end of that. However, a knowing smile finds its way onto Marlene's face, and she nods.
"Ah, right. I get it," she says with a wink, only befuddling Remus more.
Still, he doesn't think anyone else is going to bring it up.
As it turns out, everyone seems to think he has some big anniversary coming up. Lily congratulates him, Mary says she "always knew it was going to last forever", even Edgar Bones nudges him and whispers a quick "well done".
Somehow, and Remus has no clue how, he did something noteworthy a year ago. He's also completely unaware as to what. Nobody answers him when he asks, so he simply starts offering a polite smile and moving on with his day. There's some strange misunderstanding happening, and it'll probably blow over soon.
Probably.
It takes reaching the 'anniversary' date to figure out what the fuck is going on.
He's finally gotten some time with Sirius after he's been stuck in back-to-back detentions, walking down to the Black Lake together and just... chatting. It's really nice being able to spend time with Sirius outside of his classes again, even if it sends his stomach spinning and diving. As they talk, they pass Dorcas, who turns and calls to the two of them.
"Happy anniversary, guys!"
She's gone before they can ask any questions, leaving Remus with the same confused feeling as before. He opens his mouth to explain the situation to Sirius, only for Sirius to beat him to it.
"That's been happening all week," he says, puzzled, which stops Remus in his tracks.
"It has?"
He isn't walking anymore, and Sirius stops with him, elaborating with a frown.
"Yeah. Everyone's been going on and on about some anniversary. I don't know what-"
"They've been doing it to me too," Remus interjects quickly, almost under his breath. Sirius catches it though, eyes widening as he reaches the same conclusion as Remus has at the same bloody time.
It's them.
It's all about them.
All of the knowing glances, the congratulations, even the weird fucking winks. They all think Remus and Sirius are dating. Not only that, but they've thought that for a year? The thought sends too many emotions running through him. Shock, confusion and, oddly enough, bitterness. He's fallen asleep every night for months with Sirius on his mind. The thought of kissing him, being with him, belonging to him. He's spent too long biting back his confessions, the very obvious and frustrating fact that he's in love with Sirius Black, because he doesn't want to destroy their friendship, and his friends have just swooped in and made things so much more difficult!
"It's our fucking anniversary, isn't it?" Sirius says quietly, before glancing behind him. "Hold on," he says to Remus, turning right back around and going in the same direction Dorcas has just gone. He seems to involuntarily grab Remus' hand, Remus having no choice but to follow him helplessly.
They get to the Great Hall in time for lunch. Remus is a little pissed that everyone's weird obsession with their imaginary anniversary is interrupting the picnic they had planned.
"Guys." The two of them stop on front of the group, Sirius doing the talking, thank fuck. To be perfectly honest, Remus feels pretty speechless. "D'you lot think Remus and I are dating?"
"Yeah?" James says simply, wrinkling his nose like it's just a fact of life. "Everyone knows you're together."
"...we're not," Sirius says slowly, carefully, sending the group lapsing into silence, exchanging confused glances.
"Okay, that's doesn't make any sense," Lily says, everybody else nodding in agreement. "You're literally together all the time."
"Because we're friends," Sirius explains, and Remus really isn't sure what to say. Good thing he doesn't have to, because the back and forth doesn't stop.
"If Remus is in the hospital wing, you're there until Madame Pomfrey kicks you out," James offers.
"I care about him!" Sirius argues, but something about what James has said has hit him in a strange way, Remus hears the shift in his tone, feels the slight tightening of his grip on Remus' hand.
"You're holding hands right now," Mary says pointedly, and Sirius looks down at their connected hands like he had forgotten it had happened. Still, he has a reason for that one too.
"I hold everyone's hand."
He really doesn't want people to think he's dating Remus, does he?
"Not that much," Peter mumbles under his breath, and Remus almost wants to laugh.
"Sorry, does nobody find it strange that we've never kissed, then?" James shrugs.
"Not really. Figured you didn't like PDA."
"Okay, then... we've never called each other boyfriends, never been on a date-"
"Right, that one's just not true," Marlene says with a snort. Remus frowns, confused. Have they been on a date? Surely he'd know, right? "You go to Hogsmeade together all the time, you run off to 'study' every chance you get, and you're picnicking today."
"We're friends? Friends spend time together," Sirius says quickly, and Remus is really starting to struggle. He doesn't want to stand there while Sirius explains how ridiculous the concept of them dating is.
Instead of putting a stop to the conversation, Remus takes the coward's way out. He pulls his hand free from Sirius', turns, and walks away.
"Moony, wait-"
Remus pointedly ignores Sirius' call to him, aiming to get to the dorm and just wallow in self-pity for fifteen minutes. That way, he can act like he's fine and just go to the bloody picnic.
His hip, however, has other plans.
It twinges right as he reaches the stairs, forcing him to a halt with a sharp inhale. His hand involuntarily goes to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get some of the weight off it. Unfortunately for him, it means Sirius catches up too quickly. To be honest, he hadn't even realised that Sirius was following him, but he arrives at his side in a matter of seconds.
"Moony, are you alright?" Remus lets his eyes sink shut for half a second, frustrated. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise they were upsetting you that much."
"It's not- it's just- it's nothing, I'm fine," Remus settles on, offering Sirius a tired smile.
"Moons, s'fine. I know how stupid you think it is." Sirius takes another step forward, acting as though he hasn't just confused the fuck out of Remus.
"What d'you mean? That's not why..." he trails off, not sure how to verbalise any of his thoughts without telling Sirius everything. Sirius fills it in for him, though.
"It's okay, really. You don't have to spare my feelings, or anything. I know you don't feel the same way," Sirius says with a shrug, sending Remus' mind reeling in a matter of seconds.
The same way.
The same fucking way?
Just like that, Remus is malfunctioning. Firstly, when the Hell did Sirius start liking him back? He's spent months having to reel in his own emotions, spending time with Sirius and accepting the sad reality that he's never going to be with him in a romantic way. Finally, just finally, he's started to come to terms with his own unrequited emotions, accept and embrace his friendship with Sirius, and they're not even bloody unrequited?
Also, when did they talk about it? How has Sirius come to the conclusion that Remus doesn't like him? Christ, Remus is fucking in love with him!
That's enough to spur Remus to talk.
"What?"
Okay, maybe he can't form full sentences right now, but he'll get there. Hopefully. Sirius just scrunches his nose up, confused.
"Moony, I get it, it's honestly okay. You don't like me, and didn't want to hear them all jumping to conclusions," He explains, and it only throws Remus more.
"No, that's not it," Remus says quickly, stunned that any words are coming out, even if they're pretty unhelpful words.
All he can do is look at Sirius. Beautiful, amazing, kind Sirius, who crushed his own feelings because he thought they were upsetting Remus. Merlin, he can't take it anymore. Clearly words aren't working for him right now, he has to try something else. Something that will express every single emotion that he has bottled up since he first went tripping and falling head over heels for his best friend.
His solution? Kiss the prat before he has a chance to second guess himself.
With that, he reaches out, grabs Sirius' jacket with one hand, pulls him in, and kisses him. At first, Sirius freezes, stunned, and Remus has an awful panic that he's gotten everything all wrong. Luckily for him, Sirius finally registers that Remus is kissing him and kisses him back.
It's...
Christ, it's everything Remus has ever imagined and more. It's like time stops as Remus' stomach swirls. Sirius' lips are soft against his, and his kiss is explorative, fucking mind blowing. He wraps his arms around Sirius' waist, feeling Sirius lean into the touch as he reaches out and cups Remus' cheek.
After what could be an hour, a few minutes, even a few seconds, just definitely not enough time, they both break away. Unfortunately, breathing exists, and Remus kind of needs to remember how to do that. Almost in unison, their foreheads press together, and Remus can feel a smile making its way onto his face.
"Well," Sirius starts, amused, "I guess this is our anniversary, then."
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AITA for getting my childhood best friend a new friendship bracelet even though he has a girlfriend?
Basically my mom and her best friend got pregnant within a year of each other. As a result me and Dylan were raised as siblings. Our families are super close, spend holidays together, we've gone on vacations together, and Dylan and I have always called each other brother and sister.
Dylan's been dating Maya for the better part of a year. Maya is nice, but clearly has some feelings on me and Dylan being as close as we are. We've both explicitly stated there have never been romantic or sexual vibes between us, and I have made the hard choice to pull away from Dylan quite a bit to give Maya more room.
(For example I stopped our weekly hang outs, only really hang out with Dylan in a group setting, we don't hang out on FT anymore, ect.)
Maya is generally polite, but there's been tension and a few pointed remarks over the months. I know the girl best friend is pretty much a pariah in boy/girl friendships, so I've tried to just be as unobtrusive and respectful as I can.
Onto the current problem: Dylan and I have always had friendship bracelets and a few matching items. For example we have matching photos and photo frames from the holiday to Greece when we were little, we both have matching hoodies from a concert we went to, and one or two other bits. Its not a lot, but I guess it would all fill a small box if you put it together.
Dylan's friendship bracelet broke last month and couldn't be fixed. He put it away in a keepsake box but was pretty bummed about no longer being able to wear it. It took the whole month of scouring secondhand sites and ebay but last week I actually found one and was able to get it for him as a replacement. I gave it to him when our families met for dinner on Tuesday and he was super happy. He put it on immediately and hasn't taken it off.
We all met as a group to hang out today and Maya seemed a little...Vaguely annoyed toward me? When you can just tell someone's got an issue with you, even if they're not outwardly acting any different.
But she came with me when I went to the bathroom (as girls do) and as we were washing our hands she told me she was really 'surprised' I got Dylan another bracelet. I wasn't really sure if she meant in general or that I was able to find the exact same one, so I asked what she meant and she said she didn't want to be 'that girlfriend' but when the bracelet broke she was internally relieved, because she thinks its kind of inappropriate that we wear matching bracelets and have a 'claim' over each other like that.
She said she's been thinking about the future a lot more recently and she doesn't want anything 'held back' or 'obstructed' by my obsession with Dylan and the 'premade family' we have.
I'll admit I got annoyed by that, and immediately asked if she'd have an issue with me if I was a guy. She said I know that's different, and then one of the other girls from the group came in to look for us because we'd been gone so long and we kind of had to put it on a shelf for the rest of the day.
She text me a bit ago saying 'think about what I said.' Internally, I want to tell her to get a grip on herself, but I also know that I'm the girl best friend, and pretty much anything I do from here on out is critical and could make me the asshole. I also didn't want to hurt her or cause problems for Dylan, I was just trying to replace part of our friendship that's always been there.
AITA for replacing it? I can't exactly stop wearing mine (he'll ask why) or tell him to stop wearing his (again, he'll ask why) but honestly I'm also unsure of what to do now. Maya's the only one who thinks us being best friends is a problem, even our families know we've always had a sibling relationship and not one that might change to romantic.
What are these acronyms?
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plan3tjuniper · 9 months
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"Insatiable" Leon S. Kennedy~
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INCLUDES: fluff, friends(barely) to lovers, smut, jealous Leon, oral (m receiving), confessions, angry fucking?(close enuf), P in V, cream-pie, unprotected sex
Leon never thought of himself as possessive or even very monogamous til he saw you sucking another guy off..
Authors note: ok wow I'm finally back in the fanfic writing game after a long hiatus, hope you guys like this one. He's literally all i think about (this is gonna be a long one) also GOD HES SO MMPH UGWHDGSUJBUHSHIW
Leon Kennedy was an odd man romantically. He had had his fair share of sexual and romantic relationships, but he could never find himself to care too much for it. Did he enjoy a good romance movie here and there? sure! Does he enjoy sex? yeah who doesn't. And he has a pretty decent ratio. (its about a 3:50 for every girl who flirts with him which is pretty good seeing as most every woman who sees him gets a girl boner) He always wanted to settle down one day and be normal, cute wife, cute dog, cute little white picket fence life. But in reality, he only wanted that because what else would be do? His life was so far from normal that even to imagine it any different was insanity so he settled on the default, he had no idea how he would feel going from chaos and action to comfort and boringness. He had grown accustomed to the lifestyle in one way or another.
You on the other hand weren't in a relationship solely because you didn't want to be. And you were proud of it. You are young and just enjoying sex and fun while you still can. Kids and marriage were never in the picture for you and at the most you could see yourself raising a sweet little boy you adopted. But you'd never met anyone that made you want to settle down or that you could see a future with. You were a self-proclaimed slut. Your friends say you'd fuck anything in a 5 foot radius which isn't true but your body count is in the late 20s (ignoring blowjobs which don't realllyy count) And you enjoyed it, couldn't get enough.
You and Leon worked together, acquaintances but if someone asked you'd call him your friend. You had been on a few smaller missions together, you were hot for him and he was such a flirt. You could've sworn you threw out at least 3 pairs of panties just from just making eye contact with the man. But you were a professional woman and couldn't do anymore than glance and flirt with him on the job. Which is why you're thanking god and the heavens above that Chris and Jill and a few other people from the office invited you out clubbing tonight. They made sure to tell you Leon was coming because you are not an inconspicuous woman.
You'd finished your hair and makeup and slid on your little black dress, it may be basic but fuck you looked good it hugged you in all the right places(god you have a great ass). You put on your lipstick afterwards because you didn't want smears on the inside of the dress. and then put a bracelet and some earrings on, basic but you didn't want to get tangled up while dancing. You grabbed your little matching black purse and strapped your heels on and went and sat on your couch, eager. You had started getting ready 3 hours early, but who could blame you? It had been all you were thinking about all day. Your stomach churned in excitement as you tried to pull your attention to the TV to pass the 30 minutes you had to waste before they swung by to pick you up. You grabbed a piece of bread and nibbled on it to the incoherent talking it was hard to eat with your gut constricting in excitement. Really all you were thinking about was how to talk to Leon.
They finally arrived a minute late, a polite knock on your door followed by Chris banging on it and yelling "POLICE OPEN UP!" you giggled and opened the door to jill punching him in the arm. You were stunned for a second by the presence of Leon behind them just staring at you. He was like a sexy ghost. You regained your thoughts and said "you're two minutes late this is unacceptable" crossing your arms feigning anger. Jill gets on her knees and pleads "I'm so so sorry we had car troubles, whatever could i do to make it up to you" faking a cry. You put your hand to her face and say "you should've walked." You two make eye contact after your statement and cant hold it in any longer erupting in laugher. They start to walk to the car parked in the parking lot of your apartment building. You wait a second to lock the door and Leon stays by your side while the others start a conversation of their own. "You're quiet" you say pulling the key out and putting it in your bag. "I know, I honestly just don't know what to say" you share an awkward chuckle "you look nice" he said making eye contact with you. You look up at him nudging his shoulder with your own "thank you, I think this is my first time seeing you dressed like a normal person. Like if you ever wore sweatpants I think my head might explode." He laughs at that not a lot but it's genuine. You get to the car and climb into the back seat with Leon, he holds the door open "your seat madam" "why thank you sir" you say with a smile. You hear Chris say "knew itt" before jill hits him again.
The car was fun, listening fun trashy white girl music to get in the mood and singing along, cracking stupid jokes and doing bits with your friends in the front. Leon was making fun of the music the most but even he started humming along eventually, you're never letting him live it down. During the parts he was silent he would just stare at you talking and having fun, you were too caught up to notice the way he was studying your features, the curve of your nose, how you look when you laughed, the little moles and freckles on your skin, he was soaking it all in like a sickly victorian child seeing the sun. You sat back for a second to see him biting at dead skin on his lip when he brought his focus back to the conversation. You reached in your bag and pulled out some chapstick and handed it to him, he looked a little stunned (and a little turned on at your thoughtfulness) he put it on around and on his lips because they really needed it. You looked at him when his hand pulled away you noticed a sheer pink color outlining his mouth. You let out a giggle and he looked at you confused "what?." "I forgot it was tinted" you said hand covering your mouth in shock and interest. "I bet i look fabulous" he said with a flat tone and then puckering his lips at you. "yeah the smeared lipstick look is really in right now" you say giggling at his accidentally over-lined lips before leaning over and grabbing his face to wipe around his lips so he doesn't look insane. His breath hitched feeling your thumb swiping under his lips. "You know you could've just asked to kiss me, didn't have to make me look stupid" he said almost mumbling cause he didn't want to move him mouth too much and mess you up. "As if!! kissing you would be like kissing sandpaper! You are one cold morning away from a mouthful of blood from those cracks on your lips" you say pulling away from his face.
You knew what you were doing, and you knew that he liked you. You weren't dumb and you weren't gonna play it. You saw how he looked at you and god he had to know to some capacity how much you wanted him.
He was all you could get off to when you were alone now, sneaking a hand down to your panties and wishing it was his. Pumping your finger in and out of yourself almost antagonistically, you had assumed he'd be teasing and mean in your fantasies about him. And you would be lying if you said you said you hadn't been sleeping with more blonde guys as of recent to pretend that they're him. But none of them fucked you like Leon did in your head.
You guys pulled up the club finally, "The Alley Cat" stupid name but a dance floor and booze is a dance floor and booze. Starting to walk towards the door you notice that what you assumed was a busy sidewalk was a line around the block to get in. "This place is brand new how'd they find it so fast" jill said with a look of defeat. "Clubbers are menaces. Just give me a second I can get us in" you said adjusting your bra and arching your back very slightly.
You sauntered towards the bouncer, a man who looked to be in his late 30s, grown out buzz cut, brown mean eyes and a pair of sunglasses adorning his head. He was strong, not as strong as the men you worked with but you knew he could throw you around like you weighed as much as a napkin. He was tall too, too tall but that seemed to be good when your occupation is to be a human brick wall. His arms were crossed as he watched you strut up to him, squeezing your cleavage together and pouting. "Hello sir, i was wondering if you'd let me and my friends in" touching his chest "we were just sooo excited" you say slowly lips still in a pout looking up at him with half lidded eyes. "mmm.. I'll let you guys in if you make it worth my while" he said with a disgusting grin, you were such a hypocrite for being grossed out by the man when you knew that thats exactly what you were trying to get him to agree to. Just comes with the territory of being a woman I guess. You turn around with a wide smile on your face and wave your friends over. Jill squeals and trots over in her heels to hug you.
Leon had watched the whole ordeal go down, he had no idea what the two of you were saying but he could tell whatever you were doing was working. He had no right to be jealous so why was he, you two were barely friends he had no claim on you. Is what he tried to tell himself but his stomach was bubbling with jealousy and a little bit of anger. Anger that continued to grow when he saw the bouncer walk the group in and sweep you off to god knows where to do god knows what.
"She needs to stop doing this I would've been fine with waiting an hour or two" jill said with a sigh sitting down at the bar she ran her fingers through her short hair and looked around getting a scope of the place. "Doing what?" He said barely loud enough to hear over the music. Leon knew the answer to the question but he still asked anyways praying silently she wouldn't say it. "The last 5 times we've went to clubs she's pulled the whole seduce the bouncer thing and then suck him off in a backroom or closet. It's her choice at the end of the day but that must be really degrading mentally overtime for her. She may say she loves being a whore now but I don't think it's good for her to be treated like an object so often." Leon listened sympathetically but he was gritting his teeth internally at the idea of you sleeping with someone who wasn't him.
Leon didn't understand why he was feeling this way, you're gorgeous and he knew that, everyone knew that. But he enjoyed being around you. Every time he sees you he gets a little flustered thinking about how to talk to you and 'accidentally' eavesdropping when you'd talk about something you were passionate about, or recent news, or a mission or just something you enjoyed. He'd listen and wish he was the person you were talking to. He was absolutely infatuated with you. And he realized recently that the reason for it is because you're so interesting. He could never keep a girlfriend or fling before because he'd get bored so fast, he was addicted to the chaos in his life. It was his normal. And he wanted you to be that one constant in his life who he wakes up to every morning and wonders "what is she doing today?." because he knows it'll be a different answer every time. He wanted you to be his inconstant constant. By now the simmer of jealousy in his stomach had turned to a boil and it was spilling out. It should be him thats you're on your knees in front of not some loser who works at a club. He shivers at the thought.
The bouncer leads you to a storage closet about the size of a small bedroom, he starts nipping at your neck and groping your tits through your dress before pushing you to your knees in-front of him. his back against the cold concrete wall. You unzip his black pants music blaring through the door although the bass is louder than anything else. You pull his dick out, half hard and pump it a few times. "Just fucking suck it you little club slut." You knew it was his idea of dirty talk but it still didn't stop you from rolling your eyes. But maybe thats just because he's not Leon.
You take the tip into your mouth licking and sucking on it and finding his sensitive spot on the underside of his dick, you play with it for a little before he grabs a hold of your hair and starts throat fucking you. Drool pooling around your mouth and dribbling down your chin. Your eyes started to water as you relaxed your throat and just took him. That went straight to your panties, something inside you loved being manhandled. You were insatiable. Your makeup was probably fucked right now but you were too busy to care, and it was too dark in the club for anyone to notice. You started to move along with him as you could feel him getting closer squeezing your hair and his moans heightening in pitch, mouth falling into an 'O'. Or rather he was getting closer because before you could think Leon had busted through the door.
The mans whose name you still don't know's hand went limp on the back of your head as his whole body stilled. You pulled off of him a string of spit connecting you and his dick. Leon looked furious, jaw clenched and hands balled up into tight little fists definitely leaving little crescent-shaped marks in his palms. "Leon?" you said confused, barely able to think to ask why he's here before he punches the man straight in the nose. His head flies back holding his face, before he lunges on Leon. Theres a short lived battle of arms and legs before Leon is pinned down and cuffed. "You both are fucking out. now."
The man escorts you both out, Leons hands cuffed behind his back being held and you walking freely alongside, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more. He throws you two out on the curb and you hear a few people in the front of the line snicker. You make a quick call to Jill to say Leon got you two kicked out and that you'd update her later and you wanted her to enjoy her night, and to tell the people who haven't shown up yet that they can just say they're with her.
"Yeah, Yeah I'm sorry.. I know!! It's terrible, but he's probably just drunk. Yeah i'll get him home safe. Yeah. Okay, love you bye bye"
Thats all Leon hears as you're on the phone pacing back towards him, it was an odd habit you picked up. Needing to be doing something while talking to someone.
You look up at him with a mix of pity and annoyance and run your hands through your hair with a sigh. "C'mon, I'm walking you home. gotta make sure you don't beat anyone else up." You pat his back and start walking.
"I'm not drunk.."
"Sure Leon."
The two of you walk in silence for what feels like an eternity, the sounds of honks and angry drivers keeping you two sane. You take a sharp breath and contemplate your words before spitting them out.
"Why'd you do that Leon?" You say softly, looking over at him.
He refuses to look you in the eye, focusing on the sidewalk ahead of you. He responds with barely a mumble. "Jealous"
"What..?"
He finally looks you in the eyes and sighs "I was jealous.. can we just pretend like this never happened?"
You ignore his question. "Why were you jealous Leon.."
He groans and looks up to the sky, massaging his neck.
"Why do you think"
You smile at him, small. He doesn't notice though.
"Youuu like meee"
"You're making me wish I didn't right now"
"Shut up" You push his arm slightly, he stumbles over his feet to the side.
"So?"
"I mean I guess you're kinda cute" You say sarcastically, smile widening.
"Kinda?" He leers at you with that smirk on his face
you wanted to fuck it off of him
After a few more minutes of walking and bantering you arrive at his apartment, you climb up the stairs with him and he unlocks the door with ease. You follow him inside.
He takes his jacket off, revealing his toned back covered by a thin layer of cloth, if you weren't wet before you were now. He turns around to ask you a question but before he could even finish the first word you practically pounced on him.
Lips pressing against his, hands gripping onto his shirt desperately, like if you let go he'd disappear. He was shocked at first before letting out a low chuckle into your mouth, that went straight to your panties.
One of his hands grip your waist and the other grips your ass, pulling your body even closer to his. He slides his tongue into your mouth, making you melt at his touch. Letting out a whine into the kiss, the hand that was holding your ass moves up to your scalp and pulls your head back. Gripping your hair tight, a string of saliva connecting your wet lips as he pulls you away from him.
This time a whine leaves your mouth but its more of a beg and less of a moan. "Awww so needy" He says mocking you. "Leon please.."
His grip on your scalp stays strong as he forces you to your knees, he lets go and moves his hand to caress your face. Using a thumb to part your lips, you just look up at him dumbly. He puts his thumb in your mouth and you start sucking it mindlessly. "good girl.."
You look up at him and nod your head with a "mhm."
"Take off your dress" he says sternly.
You unzip your small, revealing dress to reveal a matching set of black lace panties and bra. He hums in approval.
"You were planning on getting fucked tonight.. probably by some stranger that couldn't treat you half as good as me"
You just continue to look up at him.
"C'mon baby, I want you to show me exactly what you would've done to that bouncer."
You nod at him again and work quickly at his belt and button.
"Someones experienced."
You pull his pants and boxers down to his knees and kiss around his dick, biting his thigh.
You take his fully erect penis into your hand, stroking it a few times. He looks like he's in complete bliss just from that. Eyelashes fluttering and looking down at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
You lick his tip, flicking your tongue on his frenulum. His hand grips tighter on the back of your head and he lets out a small gasp. You put his tip in your mouth, and he lets out a groan at that.
"Quit teasing" he says lowly almost in a growl.
"Thought you wanted me to do exactly what id do to him" you tease him.
And with that you put him in your mouth in an instant, deep throating him. You pull away for a moment, looking up at him "feel free to fuck my mouth."
You put him back in your mouth and with that he grips your hair and starts fucking into your mouth, you gag slightly, tears pooling in your eyes and drool leaking down your chin again.
He turns your bodies around so now you're pressed against the wall, still sitting. And now instead of moving your mouth back and forth he's thrusting his hips into your mouth, losing himself and moaning. Your fingers are now digging into his clothed thighs, leaving crescent shaped marks on his meaty thighs.
You were sopping wet by this point, trying to hump the ground or your heel for some friction. Your heel was now rubbing against your clit and you let out a moan around him.
"fuckfuckfuckfuck such a good girl, just a little throat for men to use aren't you?"
He grips your hair again and with another long moan he releases into your throat. Coating the inside of your mouth completely, pulling out slightly too soon and spurting a little onto your cheek. You swallow all of it and then open your mouth to show him.
"God you're such a slut"
He uses one hand to grab your face, pointer finger and thumb squishing each side of your face. Pulling you to stand up.
He takes you to his bedroom and you fall back onto his bed with a giggle.
He undoes your heels slowly, a more sensual and tender moment compared to what you guys were doing just minutes ago. He takes both of them off and takes off his shirt leaving him nude and you wearing your bra and panties.
He crawls over your body and plants soft kisses to your collar bones and chest, before unhooking your bra. you arch your back slightly so he can do it easier. He slides it off of your arms and continues trailing soft kisses all over your chest before licking around one of your nipples.
It was gentle and made you feel safe in an odd sense, he looks up at you with blown out eyes. Hair slightly messy and him looking sexier than ever.
"Gonna treat you so much better than any of those assholes, gonna make you cum til your sobbing happy tears"
You caress his face with a soft smile, your smaller hand giving him comfort. You pull his face closer to your own and pull him into a kiss, wrapping your leg around his waist. He brings a hand down to squeeze your ass.
"Was thinking about doing this when I saw you in that slutty little dress."
He leans back for a moment, to grab your panties and slide them off of you, throwing them somewhere in his room. Doesn't matter, you're not getting them back.
He moves back into you, grabbing inside of your knee and putting it back around his waist, lining his dick up with your pleading hole. Barely putting his tip in and watching himself just disappear into you.
"Quit teasing Leon, please.. need you" You look up at him with a pleading look, he snickers at your desperateness before pushing into you completely. Your soft walls hugging and squeezing him just right, you felt like heaven. He would stay right here forever if he could.
He lets out a groan and starts moving, you moan along with him. He filled you up so perfectly.
"Fuck, could get used to this cunt. Sucking me in so good, made for me"
He continues to fuck into you at an increasingly fast pace, your pussy making wet squelching sounds as he pounds into you. Abusing your g-spot.
"Say it sweetheart, no one could fuck you as good as me" he says smirking at you, your hips slamming together to make a harmony of moans and wet sounds.
"No one could fuck me as good as you Leon, feel s'good. Making me feel so gooomph" you choke out a sob as he picks up the pace even more.
"Clit.. Leon please" you manage to squeak out while he pounds into you. He brings a hand down to rub small circles on you, you're so close to breaking. This man knew how to press all of your buttons just right, you knew it was just sex talk but maybe he was onto something.. maybe he was made for you.
You could feel yourself reaching your high, you felt the pressure building in your abdomen as you tried not to clench around Leon but you couldn't help it. He let out a moan when you did, bringing you even closer to the ledge. "its okay baby.. just come for me, c'mon sweetheart"
He starts fucking you at an even more relentless pace, and with a scream you finish around him, walls of your cunt fluttering around his still moving cock. You can only whimper and say his name as he continues his assault on your pussy, chasing his own release.
He starts to pepper kisses onto your neck as he starts to quicken his pace "can I cum inside?, please baby. Need to, been thinking about filling this little pussy up since we met"
You let out a whine and nod your head, as he starts to whimper himself in your ear.
"So good, so good for me, gonna breed you. And you're gonna love it aren't you? Yeah you are, little fucking slut."
Biting down on your shoulder and he starts to spurt inside of you, seed filling you up to the brim as he thrusts a few more times, riding out his orgasm as he kisses around the bite mark he left on your neck. His trusts slow down and his hips eventually still inside of you.
He looks up from your neck at your face in a haze before pecking you on the lips. "Wanna be the only person who gets to fuck you, and kiss you and hold you like this. Let me take you out on a date okay? Be your little boyfriend"
You smile at him and wrap your arms around his neck and roll over so now you're on top of him "yeah.. I think id like that Leon"
You kiss him on the lips again, this one much more gentle and soft than the hungry kisses you two shared earlier. You lift your hips off of him, pulling his dick out of you with a wince. He watches in awe as his cum drips out of you onto his torso.
"I'm never letting you go now"
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OKAY HAII AUTHORS NOTE:
This took so fucking long to write and its pretty proofread but if there are any mistakes just tell me. Proud of this!!!!
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bitterkarella · 3 months
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Midnight Pals: Desert Planet
Stephen King: so i'm gonna go over to space coven tonight to tell a story Clive Barker: what, the sci fi nerds? good luck with that King: oh they're not so bad once you get to know them, clive Barker: i do not intend to know nerds
King: look, clive, you know mary goes over to the sci fi campfire sometimes Barker: i do not believe it King: it's true! she invented sci fi, you know Barker: mary shelley? OUR mary shelley? the queen witch? Barker: she invented being a nerd?
Barker: oh steve Barker: you can't expect me to swallow that whopper King: it's true! edgar, tell him Poe: steve's right, clive. she really did Barker: Barker: well now i just don't know what to believe
King: i know those sci fi guys are a little odd but King: if you ever want to read a prose version of a mildly confusing math problem King: i mean bam they're your guys! Barker: Barker: yeah well Barker: have fun with that
King: you know, clive a lot of science fiction actually deals with important issues in today's society? King: they really make you think [at space coven] Robert Heinlein: so once we space-stead Pinochet's Gulch on an asteroid, we'll be free from the tyranny of age of consent laws
[at space coven] King: so in this story they invent a way to travel through space King: but you have to be unconscious for it to work Frank Herbert: i have a better idea for space travel Herbert: what if you had to get really blasted
Herbert: let me explain my vision steve Herbert: In a distant time Herbert: And far away place Herbert: The planet Arrakis floats deep in space Herbert: Sky of three suns Herbert: Land of precious spice Herbert: The melange rush brought great houses at any price
Herbert: Then one day, a Muad'Dib appeared Herbert: With powers of hawk, wolf, puma and bear Herbert: Protector of peace, scion of the Bene Gesserit ladies Herbert: Champion of justice, Marshall Paul Atreides! King: King: hey how many of those mushrooms did you eat
Herbert: so the important thing about Dune, okay Herbert: is there's all this political intrigue Heinlein: and worms? Herbert: yeah yeah there's gonna be worms Herbert: let's talk about these factions though Heinlein: how big are the worms
Herbert: you're gonna love this story Herbert: though its not as great as the melodic beauty & divine truth of the 114 surahs of the Qur'an Heinlein: Herbert: inshallah Heinlein: why do you always have to put so much islam in it Herbert: i just Herbert: i just think its neat
Mary Shelley: [busting into clearing] sup fuckers Shelley: who's ready for their weekly beating? Heinlein: no! no! not mary shelley! Heinlein: have mercy!!! Heinlein: here, take all our lunch money! Heinlein: just don't punish us anymore!
King: mary! Is this what you've been doing when you come to this campfire? Shelley: [wailing on Heinlein] what? oh yeah, p much.
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talaok · 7 months
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JUST GOT MY FIRST TATTOO AND CANT STOP THINKING ABT PEDRO X WIFE! READER GETTING A MATCHING TATTOO OMGG
Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader
a/n: Omg thats so exciting!! and the idea is so freaking cute i swear i died when you sent it
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"calm down sweetheart" Pedro stifled a laugh as he watched you get more and more pale.
"I'm calm" 
He couldn't help but snort at that, briefly noticing the tattooer's mouth twitch into a smile before he could hide it.
You had never been a good liar.
"it's a small one, it'll be done before you know it"
"but it's still gonna hurt" you added, glancing panickly at him.
"just a little" he promised, taking your hand in his and raising it to leave a soft kiss on it "and if it hurts you just squeeze my hand, ok?"
You let out a shaky sigh before turning to the tattoo artist.
"Is he telling the truth?" you asked "Is it really not gonna hurt a lot?"
The guy smiled reassuringly at that 
"he's telling the truth, the forearm is one of the least painful places to get a tattoo," he said "and it is a small one, so you should be fine"
You forced a smile at his words, before turning back to your husband.
"he said should" you murmured in a hushed tone the tatooer politely pretended not to be able to hear "He said I should be fine!"
"sugar" Pedro couldn't stop the chuckle fleeing his mouth "I promise you'll be fine" he said, softly moving some hair out of your face and lingering to stroke your face "I did it too, and look at me" he gestured to himself "I'm great"
"yeah but it's different, this is not your first tattoo"
his thumb slowly drew patterns on the back of your hand to try and calm you down.
"Sweetheart, if you've changed your mind and don't wanna do this anymore, it's totally fine"
"no-no I wanna do it" you replied immediately "really" you promised, looking into his big hazel eyes widened in worry "I'm just... scared"
You watched as a softer smile made its way to his lips.
"it's ok to be scared, sugar" he murmured, stroking your cheek "But I'm gonna be here for you the whole time, ok?"
You paused a moment, taking in his words
"ok" you finally nodded.
"ok" he smiled, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on your lips.
"Can I start?" the tattooer asked after a moment, and looking into Pedro's eyes you found the courage to answer
"yes, you can start"
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"done"
"already?" 
"yup" The tattoo artist repeated
You opened your eyes for the first time in twenty minutes and found a smiling Pedro looking back at you.
"how do you feel?"
"I-" you stuttered, shocked by the words that were about to come out of your mouth "I feel fine"
"told you"
The tattoo artist was still cleaning his creation when your eyes fell to it, and you held your breath until, with one final wipe, he was finished.
"wow" you couldn't help but breathe, looking down at the P on your forearm with a heart around it,
It matched Pedro's one, except of course that the letter in his one was the first one of your name, and not his.
"you like it?" Pedro asked, rounding the chair to get a better look at the tattoo.
"I love it" you grinned from ear to ear "It's so cool"
"it really is" he agreed, smiling too "I've got the coolest wife in the world"
"And I the coolest husband" you beamed, giving him a soft kiss, before placing your head on his shoulder "let's see how they look next to each other" 
Pedro immediately complied, positioning his left forearm next to your right.
"oh my god" you breathed, ready to cry "it's perfect" you whispered "Just so you know, you're not allowed to wear anything that covers it. Only t-shirts from now on, we clear?" 
He looked at all the joy filling your eyes, at the way your lips stretched as you smiled incredibly wide, and his heart couldn't help but swell.
He lived to see that look on your face.
"crystal clear, baby"
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utilitycaster · 6 months
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Unpopular opinion: parts of the cr fandom are really dismissive/ reductive of Travis’s characters. It feels like it’s due to Travis being seen as THE cis het man of the group, and by extension his characters must be heteronormative and bad, despite the fact that you could have queer interpretations of his characters. At the very least, Travis’s characters explore masculinity and the different ways it might look. It’s like the people who are all “ew men are gross and shitty” and act like that’s an absolutely normal reaction to a man just existing.
So this is another one in that I agree with the initial statement, but I'm actually not sure re: the reasoning why. I think it's possible but I could not tell you for sure.
I used to, again, think this was people carrying through Campaign 1 elements well beyond the point where C1 had ended, and so Grog having an intelligence of 6 was being applied to Travis; and this definitely does come through to an extent when people treat Fjord (objectively as smart as Beau without her circlet) as stupid or act shocked that Chetney is the brains of Bells Hells or that he can play a Cerrit, Fjord, or Nathaniel. However, again, I think this is one of those opinions that pops up among people who weren't around for Campaign 1 (or early enough in C2 to be exposed to it regularly) so I don't know if that's the case anymore. It could still be - it could be that Approved Fandom Opinions get passed down even when the logic behind them has long since been lost; that's a really common thing in institutional memory. But I can't say for sure.
I also have in the past credited it to, as you said, people assuming his characters are the cishet guys and then writing them off. That's still possible - I've seen both Fjord and Chetney called "token straight" despite considerable evidence of bisexuality, and they also paradoxically are both commonly headcanoned as trans while still getting called "token straight," which sort of ties into a post I would need to find from someone else from quite some time ago about which cast members are granted agency by the fandom in their choices vs. which are assumed to be the victims of circumstance. And I do think that there are people in fandom who have decided men are icky or whatever, and I used to think this came from a place of bigotry and a slide towards t*rf ideology but I now do genuinely think it's just idiots who don't grant interiority to characters outside their own limited understanding.
But I think it's also useful to consider a few things, most of which I've brought up before:
Travis is extremely offline. He is not here to entertain your headcanons; he has been politely but openly dismissive of some (imo, really fucking dumb) fanon/fan theories. I think the cast frequently talks about how it's their table, and I think that's valid and correct, but Travis is one of the players who lives it the most. He is playing this game with his friends, and he'd like it to be a good story, but if you don't like it, he is not here to make you like it. I think that really fucks with the parasocial connections some people desire with the cast.
Travis's characters tend to examine masculinity as a performance but also the general performance of the self, and the fact that you cannot in the end control how you are perceived entirely, and I think that really unsettles people who have equated presentation with reality and are again, looking for external validation of the self.
Travis can play it big but he's often extremely subtle, especially with his more serious characters, and he's not as easily quotable out of context as some others at the table. I think because he is a lot more naturalistic than dramatic at times (Chetney notwithstanding) and isn't as pithy and quotable in his characters as many of Taliesin's PCs are, and a lot of the strength is in the delivery, he gets overlooked despite being very good with words on the fly.
And finally: this would be a whole post on its own but people are still very foolishly wed to this idea that pressing the big red button in D&D is Wild and Chaotic and haha Big ADHD Man when it's actually how you play D&D if you're not a coward; the button is where the story is stored, and a lot of Travis's strength is that he is extremely good at understanding what the GM wants and supporting it with sufficient grace that it's only visible if you know what you're fucking doing.
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artist-issues · 5 months
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You know... it also just seems really weird that Disney has been going out of it's way to subvert everything from its past.
If I put myself in the mind of "everything we were founded on, and everything we create before ~2016 was bad" I don't see why I'd keep going. Like... if Disney thinks Disney sucks, why be Disney? (money IG)
You're right! It must be a very discouraging thing to work for Disney nowadays, if you're the kind of person to think about legacy, or occupy your daily thoughts with some degree of foresight.
The truth is, there is a part of Disney that is successful because it was innovative--it raised the bar and set the culture.
But there's also a part of Disney that is trying to guess what the culture likes, and capitalize on that popularity--the culture tells it what to do.
That's all organizations. Some are brave and say, "no, this is who we are and what we believe, and you can take it or leave it." And usually the culture takes it, because the culture is inspired by strong leadership and clear identities.
But then they get a big following. And it's almost impossible for the organization that used to shape the culture to do anything but become terrified that they'll lose that culture. So then they start making decisions based out of fear, and self-glorification, and insecurity--the total opposite of the confident, bold, innovative identity it used to have.
Disney used to say "oh you think cartoons are just gags? Let me invent the first ever animated feature film--in color! See you in the National Film Registry, skeptics."
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It used to say, "oh, you critics think all my fairy tale and animal movies are too light? That they've got no weight to help the kids face real life? Let me make a smash-hit about a Nanny who convinces a work-and-harsh-realities-obsessed father that what his children really need is a spoonful of sugar. Because yeah, life's hard, but that's why we make the job a game."
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It used to say, "you think the animated genre died with Walt? You think everyone would rather watch George Lucas movies than a cartoon fairy tale? Let me introduce you to an Academy Award-winning Princess story we call the Little Mermaid. You can stop digging our grave; we just saved animation."
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It used to say "you think it can't be done? Hold my mouse ears." And it just did it. And didn't care if audiences said silly, shallow things like "girls don't need to be rescued by a prince!!1!" Or "grown-ups don't watch cartoons lol!!"
Nowadays, though? They're so big they don't know who they are anymore. And they're so big they're scared to lose anything, or take risks. I'm sure there's a lot of political pockets involved, too. They don't dare say anything but what the loudest, most complaining members of our society tell them to say.
They're no longer trend-setters and trail-blazers. They're a monument that is whatever the loudest people tells them to be. Has to suck, when you're the company that followed Walt's "Keep moving forward" motto.
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edgeray · 23 days
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One Hell of a Butler Pt. 2
(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)
A/N: Wasn't really expecting to write arle content so soon but heck i miss writing and school makes me sad :( i have 4 assessments next week. i hate it here. also for @\megistusdiary and @\servalisms who feed me so well <333 love you guys. anyways, following the same concept as the first part here, this is some time after Reader and Arlecchino has made the contract. What do you guys think about this series? Future edit: It's gonna be a blurb, I say. It'll be less than 1k I say. *Looks at the time.* It's 3AM and the finished product is 2.2k words. Again. How do I do this to myself. I'm not calling this a oneshot though because not my greatest quality. Content Warning: Suggestive. semi-graphic descriptions of violence Series Masterlist
It's funny, really, having a demon as your butler. You could never imagine yourself as the type of person to even consider such a notion, and you certainly were not a believer of the supernatural either. Of course, beliefs change and so do mindsets; after all, your worldview was shattered with one singular event. It is that catalyst that has led you down this path. You used to believe that revenge was just a trope, an exaggerated manifestation of pettiness but as you feel it pump through your blood and inject in its veins, revenge is so very palpable. And with the contract, it's graspable, within your reach. It's like a dessert, waiting to be devoured after the main course. And like a dessert, however, in order to really savor it, one must be patient.
It has led you to this point. To a ball, specifically. The preparations have all been laid out, and you know what you your goal from this event is. The only thing left to do is to prepare the final touches and carry out the plan.
For all your meticulous planning, you don't expect yourself to be hindered before you had even gotten to the event. And defeated by a corset dress of all things. You couldn't extend your arms anymore to reach the strings behind your dress. Of course, you have other dresses, but none were as suitable for this event besides this one; this dress is made especially to carry secret compartments for weapons, a feature that none of your other apparels have.
"Arlecchino," you call out to your butler, and within a moment, the air of the room grew considerably colder, alerting you of the demon's sudden appearance. The abrupt chill invokes a chill down your spine and you let out a breathy exhale as you gazed at the mirror in front of you, and could see your servant's form just behind you, her height towering over you. On her face is the usual subtle smirk when she's with you and her red pupils gleamed just slightly.
"You look beautiful, my Lady," she greets with a low drawl although you knew it was out of politeness than admiration. Her irises burn as you could feel it traverse over your exposed back and you can barely suppress the goosebumps that her gaze provoked.
"I didn't summon you here to ogle me, Arlecchino," you say, maintaining a cool tone despite the warmth that bloomed over your bare skin, pricking your senses. A low rumble comes from the being and she leans forward placing her icy black hands over your naked shoulders, fingertips running across the surface smoothly as it slowly nears your collarbone. Her face nears your left ear, her breath cascading against your earlobe.
"Of course. It was simply an observation, my Lady. But, dare I say, you look simply ravishing." The demon whispers against the shell of your ear, her voice adorning the smallest bit of allure in it, and her hands suddenly grip your shoulders as she emphasizes the last word, then relaxing a moment later. Your inhale hitches but no other reaction is displayed outwardly.
"The strings, Arlecchino," you instruct as a distraction away from the soft flaring of your cheeks.
A brief pause as you observe through the mirror the gleam of mischief in the demon's black pits, and her hands move down your shoulder, only the pads of her fingers brushing ghosting over your shoulder blades and yet it feels like the heat from the contact drips down onto your skin. It's a lagging pace, deliberate and feather light as it finally reaches the farthest down string. Prodding fingers caress against your back as she begins maneuvering the strings masterfully, each graze seemingly lingering as it seems like she takes every opportunity to memorize the texture of you on her fingertips. When her painstaking process draws close to its end, she ties the strings together, making it tight enough to make you groan and arch your back from the sting. When you do, she traces a finger up the curvature of your spine.
"Arlecchino," you chastise with a shuddering breath. Hands find themselves on your hips, clawed fingertips faintly digging into you and you're suddenly pulled to her being, chest meeting against your spine.
"You can't possibly fault me for my behavior when you're far too delectable, can you?" She voices against your nape, cold lips just barely hovering over it while you feel hot air stroke against your hair. You shudder. A small ire wells up inside of you and you break from her grasp easily. 
“You know better than to fool around now of all times,” you huff irritably, before spinning around. “Now, are you dressed yet?” 
Your breathing halts once your eyes scan Arlecchino's body. Donning a midnight black tailcoat alongside matching slim trousers, a white button-collared dress shirt with scarlet ruffled cuffs, and finally, a simple jet black necktie. It is not very different compared to her usual apparels, and yet your sight cannot help but stagger over her. She's devilishly handsome, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, objectively pleasant to your view. You get the sense something is missing from her appearance, however, perhaps a mark of yours on her neck. You bite your tongue in reprimand to suppress any more carnal thoughts and you shift your focus away.
“Is it to your liking, my Lady?” A smug smile graces her kissable lips. 
“It's appropriate enough. You're missing something,” You reply back cooly, and you dig around the nearby drawers for the items you search for. Upon finding them, you find ebony gloves and then promptly fling them at the demon's face. They hit squarely, and slide off her mildly shocked expression with a comical, slow pace. It gives you more satisfaction than it should.  
“There,” you remark with a blank expression but a tone matching her prior pomposity. “I suppose you're presentable as my servant now.” 
You brush past her, comforted by the fact her eyes follow your form with each step. 
Upon arrival at the ball, it's nearly overwhelming–chatter fills the room and surrounds you at every angle, suffocating you under the noise of whispered gossip. A suited server comes up to you with a glass of some presumed luxurious beverage, no doubt costing a ludicrous amount. You swivel the untouched drink in your hand as you survey other guests, searching for a particular face in general. Arlecchino should be doing something similar right now, if she hasn't already found her target. 
The person you're looking for is no longer to be found, at least in your approximate vicinity. You grind your teeth together and your hand bunches the fabric of your dress in a fist. An advancing man steps into view and strolls towards you, confidence and snobbery exuding from his walking. 
“Would you like a dance, my Lady?” 
You can't help but cringe at the addressment, the term sounding only right from one particular individuial's tongue. But nonetheless, a cordial smile masks your disgust and you agree to it, letting the man lead you to a slow, and quite frankly, boring waltz. His movements are just flamboyanes to cover up his sloppy movements, and it only makes you wonder how a demon can so masterfully practice an art made by humans. During the dance, you try to fish him out of any useful information, but the daft male is incapable of doing anything besides leering at you. 
You could feel at the back of your neck someone else's stare–one that kindles like the flames of hell. You smirk to yourself. Maybe you can use her gaze, taunt her through this. You lean ever so closer, lurching forward to whisper something in his ear and you let his filthy hands wander your form a bit. 
When you finally part from him, enduring one last, disappointing dance, you say your farewells to him. Not out of respect as a dance partner but because you know his life will end in a few minutes. You only hope she remembers to dispose of the body and clean up the evidence. 
You find that she reappears by your side in less than fifteen minutes. It's cute that she does it when you're not in the vicinity, like you don’t already know what she did. How fortunate for you that you've already isolated yourself to a lone balcony when she finds you. Otherwise, people may accuse the two of you as undignified lovers.  
Shortly afterwards, the two of you return to the main location of the ball, and again, you're in search of a certain man. Arlecchino has yet been successful in finding her target and you wander the dance floor once again, though this time, you decline any dance requests. 
Your gaze follows that of a group of men eyeing something, and you trace for what they're looking at. With great irritance, you discover it's the demon that they’re leching over. Something ugly coils in the pit of your stomach, an ugly sensation filling your being the longer you watch their gaze, like a feeling that what they are coveting after is one of your belongings. 
“Arlecchino,” you softly gruff under your breath. You observe from across the large room that her head perks up immediately, reminiscent of how a dog would when its name is called, and without even looking, she steers through the sea of ball-goers towards your direction. 
When she’s finally in front of you, there's an aggravating, knowing grin that Arlecchino fails to hide. “Yes, my Lady?”  
You reach out to tug her necktie to you like a leash and she compliantly lets you pull her face towards you. 
“If people keep leering at you like that, they'll become an inevitable hindrance,” you lie straight through your teeth, hating the way her eyes crinkle in amusement as she sees right through you. The two of you know you're lying.  
“And what are you going to do about it, my Lady?” You should order her to wipe that complacent sneer off of her face, shouldn't you? 
“This,” you give her neck time a harsh yank and your lips brush against her neck, teeth biting her skin and your tongue lapping at the bite mark. It's a quick, stinging action that makes the demon grunt lowly but she's yet to pull away. She wouldn't dare to, not without your instructions. 
You pull away only after a few moments because it's not a mark made out of passion or affection. It’s a mark made out of desperation, out of possessiveness, to remind those who she belongs to and who can touch her. 
“Don't you dare hide it,” you demand, indignation creeping up your words. You release her, and she simply nods, her gloved fingers dabbing the mark. Walking away, you feel strangely content–what was missing from Arlecchino's appearance is there now. 
You call for her one last time during the ball. When you've led the man you were searching for into a private guest room, and you loosen his lips with the suggestiveness of your actions and the alcohol you slip in his hands. The information that spews out to you is useless, the furthest thing to what you desire even when you’ve pushed yourself far past what you'd like. He simply doesn't have what you want, you frustratingly recognize. You've let this man undress you until you're nearly half-naked for nothing. 
At the moment you acknowledge that this entire venture to this ball was for naught, you kick the disgusting man in the face, hard enough to hear a crunch underneath your heel and in his clutched hands, his broken nose bleeds. You sigh and start redressing yourself, thankful at least you didn't allow him to derobe you any further while he chucks insolent expletives and meaningless threats at you. He dares to reach out his hand for you with your back against him and it is then you mutter her name.
“Arlecchino.”
And like every time, she materializes right where you want her to, in between you and the vermin, blocking you from his sight. 
“Yes, my Lady?” She purrs as the man sputters out in shock, tumbling back.
You don't even look over your shoulder to give a command, instead, opting to fix your hair. “Dispose of him.”
There's no need for you to watch the bloodbath. You're familiar with how she kills now. It lasts no more than a few seconds and when you smell soot, you know she's done. You turn around, the last few embers of his body dissipating in the air. There's no remnants of him anymore, the room is spotless clean, except for the smear of blood on her cheek. 
“Don't you demons know how to clean yourselves?” You chastise with an exasperated click of your tongue and extend your hand, your thumb wiping the crimson droplet from her face and then guiding your thumbpad to her lips. Her tongue darts out, and laps up the last trace of him with a deliberate swipe. 
It ignites a blaze in your chest and your heart drums. 
“Take me home, Arlecchino. We're done here.” 
“Of course, my Lady.” 
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