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#i have now lost my head start and am actually doing these on the correct day; let’s see if i can keep this up
fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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Grill the Grid
Guys, I'm sorry this is so short. I've had a bout of writers block but still wanted to get another chapter out. I will be going back to working on the regular chapters soon! But enjoy this take on Grill the Grid!
Like always - comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love :D
Key for this chapter: regular text - just normal speaking bold - words on the flip boards italics - scene change bold italics - the narrator lady
Episode One: Radio Show 
A quick snapshot of each driver shows up before the opening title of “Grill the Grid” crosses the screen. 
You quickly showed up and clapped your hands. 
“Welcome ladies and gents to another season of Drive to Survive.” You showed a cheeky smile as you winked to the camera. 
“Can you please state your name and what team you drive for?” 
You sighed as you thought. “Christian is going to kill me if I can't remember all of it.” You looked back at the camera. “My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula One Team.” 
“That is correct.” 
Your eyes widened as you started to laugh. “I didn’t think I’d get that.” 
The lady behind the camera smiled. “Max didn’t get the entire thing.” 
You stared at the camera like you were on the office before turning to someone off camera to the side. “Do I get a point for that?” 
The video now cut to Max. 
Max had his hands on his side, head down before he looked back up. 
He had a nervous smile as he tried to think. “Yeah, I don’t know. Red Bull Racing?” He shrugged as multiple people around him laughed. 
“It’s actual Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “How is anyone supposed to remember that?” 
“Y/n did.” 
“Of course.” 
Words flashed on the screen signaling to viewers the actual start of the episode. Multiple familiar faces showed as they all stood next to a board with multiple flaps of paper. 
Lando smugly looked at the title and then to the camera. “I got this in the bag.” 
“How do you think you’ll do?” 
Oscar was now on screen. “Uhhhhh.” He didn’t have time to answer.
“I think I’ll do ok. I’m not too familiar with other team’s radios, but I can try?” A red-clad Monegasque questioned himself. 
The drivers all flipped the first page.
--He better get me more stroopwaffles after that. Asshole--  
You flipped the first page and barely glanced at it before answering. “Lando.” 
“Lando.” Max also flipped.
Oscar, Daniel, Charles, and Carlos at once, “Lando.” 
Lando just stared into the camera. “Me?” 
You smiled back at the camera. “This was at Zandvoort right? After Max kinda bumped him.” 
“He pushed me off the track! Bumped is an understatement.” Lando now flipped the next page and leaned back to laugh. “Y/n.” 
--Speed. I am Speed. One winner, 19 losers. I eat losers for breakfast--
Max, once again, barely glanced before answering, “Y/n.” 
Lance looked around trying to get a hint. He couldn’t find one. “Logan? I know he’s watched the Cars movies.” 
Logan laughed as well before shaking his head. “Y/n.” 
“Me.” Your face flushed red. “Truthfully, I didn’t know the radio was on.” 
Oscar made a noise as he thought. “I want to say Logan because he recently watched that. But my heart wants to say Y/n.” 
“Is that your final answer.” 
“Yes.” 
“That’s correct.” 
Fernando, Carlos, Daniel, and Alex flipped the page. “Y/n.” 
--This is what she gets for telling me to use my mirrors. AHA! Does she even have her driver’s license?-- 
“Aha! This is Daniel.” You stood looking at the next page. “So in quali, he almost hit me in turn four during my flying lap and I told him to use his mirrors in the race. Well, he overtook me in the first lap and I fell behind.” Your smile disappeared as you looked right into the camera. “And yes, I have my driver’s license.” 
Daniel almost fell to his knees as he read the next one. His gummy smile almost took over his face. “This is me to Y/n.” 
Max just looked lost. “Who said this?” 
“Daniel.”
“Oh.”  
 
Episode Two: Champions Part 2
“So do you know what’s next?” 
You looked confused as you looked around the empty space. “Well there’s no board here?” 
Charles shrugged. “It could be anything. I certainly hope that this season we won’t have to list the champions in some order again.” 
Max looked around with a confused look. “Again?” 
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Man I knew I should have gone back and actually memorized them.” 
“There’s no way someone is getting all of them. Sebastian is gone.” Lando shrugged. 
It was now back to Charles who looked a bit more pale. A loud beep sounded on a views screen as he looked down. 
You once again clapped. “I knew all those Wikipedia pages would come in handy. Are we starting from newest to oldest or oldest to newest.” 
“Any way you want.” 
You looked up in thought as you started to list. “Ok. Max was in 2023, 2022, 2021. Then Lewis in 2020, 2019, 1028, 2017. Nico won in 2016 then it was back to Lewis in ’15 and ’14. Seb won from 2013 to 2010…” 
Max sighed before he started. “Uh, me in 2023 to 2021. Then Lewis until 2014.” 
“Incorrect. Nico won in 2016.” 
Max hummed. “Uh, Nico in ’16. Then Lewis to ’14. I know Seb won in 2013.” 
It was back to you. “And then Michael Schumacher again in 2010, which was his first with Ferrari. Then it was Hakkinen in ’99 and ’98. Uh, Villeneuve in 1997 who was preceded by Hill in 1996. Then it was back to Schumi in ’95 and ’94.”
Lando looked lost. 
Charles was still pale but he tried. “It was Max, Lewis, Nico, Lewis again. Then Seb then Lewis again?” 
“You’re forgetting another Mercedes Driver.” 
Charles looked even more confused. “Uh.” 
“Jensen Button in 2009.” 
“He was in Mercedes?” Charles just ended up walking off. 
Back to you. “Mario Andretti was the last American in 1978. Niki and Hunt danced around from 1977 to 1976. Then it was Fittipaldi, Stewart, Fittpaldi, Stewart, Rindt, Stewart respectfully in 1975, 1974, 1973, 1972, 1971, and 1970.” 
Oscar looked as if he was having a stroke. 
Logan ran a hand down his face. “I only know Andretti in 1978 and then Phil Hill in 1961. You know. Go America!” 
Fernando tried but couldn’t get past the nineties. Yet he had a smile on his face. “Y/n got all of these right, correct?” 
“She was the only one.”  
“Shut up, no she wasn’t.” Lando didn’t believe it. 
“Of course she did.” Max could only chuckle. “She would brag and brag about this in the plane.” 
“And then Ascari in 1952, then Fangio in 1951, and finally Farina in 1950!” You had a proud look on your face. “I knew I could do it. Did I miss any?” 
“Nope.”  
Episode Three: Guess These Headlights 
Charles, who had now recovered from his bout of PTSD, suddenly looked excited. “Now here is something I can do.” 
“Are you a car guy?” 
“Definitely.” Carlos responded with a smug look. “I grew up around cars.” 
“I mean. I know my McLarens?” Oscar questioned. “This is going to be hard.” 
Lando looked ready. “Let’s get this going.” 
You looked determined. “Bring it on.” You flipped the first page. “Ah. That’s a classic. A Ferrari F40.” You turned back to the camera. “If I didn’t have my Porsches, I would have bought an F40.” A far away thoughtful look crossed your face. “Maybe I’ll still get one. I’ll ask Charles. He can get me one.”  
Charles quickly answered “F40” and then flipped. “Ah. This is McLaren P1.” 
“McLaren P1,” Oscar answered. “The logo is in the headlights. Pretty helpful.” 
Daniel flipped the next one and stood back, hands on his hips. “I know Max has this car. But I can’t remember the name.” 
Lance finally looked as though he knew what it was. “This is the Aston Valkyrie.” 
Fernando also guessed it correctly. “Aston Valkyrie.” 
Next, Carlos easily got the next one. “La Ferrari. I wanted one.” 
“Did you get one.” 
Carlos nodded his head before answering. “No.” 
Max flipped through the pages very quickly. “Ah! I know this one. Y/n has two of these. It’s the Porsche 9-11’s.” 
“Y/n’s Porsche. The 9-11 model,” Alex responded. 
“I see these in my garage since Y/n’s apartment didn’t come with one, so she puts her’s in mine. It’s the Porsche 9-11,” Logan had a happy smile as he knew one. The next one, he didn’t know. 
“Not a clue.” Charles, Oscar, and Daniel all said as they flipped. 
Max took a minute to look at the X looking headlights. He hummed. “Y/n was just showing me a TikTok with this car. Says she wants one someday.” 
You had a giant grin on your face as you looked at the headlights. 
“Do you know what this car is?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Of course I know. It���s the 3 million dollar Ferrari V12 Engine Apollo Project Evo. There are currently 10 of them only in the world, and they are all owned.” 
“Do you have one of them?” 
You only smirked as you looked into the camera.
Max still stood next to his board, eyes to the sky as he really thought. His eyebrows raised as he remembered the answer. “This is like...the Apollo E car?” 
“That is correct. Now, does Y/n own one of these? She didn’t give us an answer.” 
Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh. No comment?”   
  
Episode Four: Random Skills
“Ok. For this challenge you have to guess what driver has this skill.” 
“Easy.” Came from Lando. 
You looked around confused. “I don’t think I have any skills.” 
“Do I even have a skill for them to use?” Lewis questioned himself. 
“First skill. Which driver is known for playing the piano.” 
“Sharl,” you smirked. “Easy.” 
“Charles.” Lance, Fernando, and Daniel all answered. 
“Me.” The Monegasque had a smile on his face. 
Oscar looked up. “Is it Y/n? She looks like she can play the piano.” 
“He said that? I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” You shrugged. 
“Which drivers claims to be able to hit a hole in one at the Monte Carlo Golf Course.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “I know Lando has claimed, but I’m going to say Carlos.” 
Carlos looked lost. “Me? I don’t know if I’ve said that though. Maybe Lando?” 
Logan answered, “Lando?” 
Lando also looked lost. “Me?” 
“No.” 
“Who is it then?” You questioned. Lando and Carlos had been your guess. 
“It is Pierre Gasly.” 
Lando huffed. “Get out of here.” 
The man in question had a guilty smile. “I forgot I said that. Let’s say it’s still true.”
You looked eager to get on with the game. You wanted to win that trophy. 
“Which driver has set a drive time around the Daytona International Speedway at 1 minute and 40 seconds. Which is only 8 seconds slower than the lap record.” 
“Oh, I didn’t know I would get on here for this category. It’s me right?” 
“Correct, Logan.”  
You took a little while to guess. “I’m gonna say Logan. Sounds like a very American thing to do at Daytona. And his brother drove for NASCAR right?” 
“Correct.”
Your fist pumped the air. 
Oscar looked elated at this question. “It’s Logan. I was there when he did it.” A big smile crossed his face. 
Lance looked around in thought. “Uhhhhh. Lando? I don’t know.” 
Lando also looked happy, as he seemed to know the answer. “It’s Logan right? Yeah, Logan. Final answer.” 
“Are there any geography questions this season, or…” Max drew out the last syllable as he laughed with the others. He suddenly went cold stare. “I’m being serious.” 
“Which driver knows how to moon walk?” 
Fernando squinted his eyes as he thought before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s one of the young ones right? Yuki?” 
Yuki was also as lost as Fernando. “I wish it was me. Maybe Lando? He DJ’s right?” 
“It’s not Lando. But it is a younger driver.” 
“I should know this after she made me play Just Dance for three hours one time. It’s Y/n.” Logan looked put off at his mention of the dance off. 
Oscar also looked bored as he also brought it up. “Yeah, it’s Y/n. I threw Just Dance out after she left. No more.” 
Max rubbed his face. “She plays it with P whenever she comes over. They play the same one over and over again. Y/n.” 
Charles had a far off look, like one of an older man who suddenly was hit with PTSD from war. He whispered, “We don’t mention moonwalk. Not after her and Arthur…” He never finished as he walked off again. 
You had a shit-eating grin on your face. “Me! And I tried to teach it to Oscar, Lando, Logan, Max, Charles, Arthur…” You just seemed to keep going and going. They finally had to stop you before you kept going on about the Just Dance discography. 
Bloopers
You stood in front of the camera with one of the que things that snap. “And action! Do you even say that anymore? And I thought this was an actual set. I might have cried when I saw the green screen.” 
Beep 
The camera showed Max creeping in as you continued listing all of the champions in order. He looked over at the camera like was on the office. “Is she still going?” 
Beep
Logan kept touching his hair and the makeup lady would slap his hands away to fix it. “NASCAR drivers don’t have to go through this. I bet they don’t have to list all the freaking Formula 1 champions in order.” He leaned in and made a gesture. “See. All they have to do is kiss a brick and they get one when they win.” 
Beep 
Oscar smiled as he looked around, honestly excited to get this over with. “I think I’m finally ready for redemption. This should be easy.” 
The camera cut to him after ever he finished filming. “I take it back. That was not easy. You guys really need to find better questions.” 
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m0uchie · 2 months
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Hi hi!! I'm pretty sure this is my first time requesting so I am a bit scared afjrjwj...
Anyways could you do Scara x reader (could be gn,whatever makes you comfortable!) where Scara is a complete nerd and is just explaining to reader about his nerdy interests/hobbies while reader just thinks about devouring and worshipping him 🤭
You could ignore/delete if you want or if it doesn't fit with your rules!!(I did read them but just in case) have a great day/night and take care of yourself!!❤️
𐙚 secret obsession
⟡ you discover what Scaramouche's face (a boy in your class) really looks like and now you can't stop thinking about him
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— pairing : nerd!scaramouche x gn!reader
— warnings : NSFW; reader is obsessed? A bit too much, lmao; yandere reader; penetrative sex (in reader's imagination); oral (m!receiving)
— a/n : HIII! YOU LOOK SO SWEET :( Don't be scared to send smth, I loved your request 🫶 I hope I did your first request well and ty for reading the rules😭😭
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part 2
You know what they say about not approaching the shy kid who sits alone at break because they usually mean trouble? You did completely the opposite of that.
Scaramouche should've been the smartest boy in your class. However, his presence went unnoticed by the other students, even though he had a charming beauty that he hid behind his hat and corrective glasses. These same glasses that you picked up from the floor when he collided with you while blindly speeding up his steps in the hallway with a stack of notebooks in hand to deliver to the professor.
Your mouth opens in shock at finally seeing him without that giant hat he wore all the time, lying on the floor along with his lenses and notebooks. Soft skin, round and bright eyes of a vibrant color like a doll that you couldn't stop staring at.
"Y-you're in the way." he mutters, lifting his finger to adjust the glasses that hung on the tip of his nose with his other arm holding the notebooks tightly against his chest, and slightly panicking when he notices the lack of presence of the frame.
"You're welcome." you level up the glasses to his face, straightening the messy strands of hair on his head with your fingers and a smirk on your face. He blushes and forms a pout with his mouth, mumbling something you couldn't hear and taking his glasses back from your hand, without even looking back before running away.
As the days passed, the more lost your mind seemed to become after your sudden encounter with Scaramouche. You'd taken the hat he had forgotten home, as he had run away from you out of the blue that day and left it with you. Until now he didn't seem to notice the lack of the accessory, unlike your mind which couldn't erase the meeting between the two of you from your memory.
Your thoughts were always about him and what happened that day, how silly he looked wearing glasses, but still how satisfying it was to know that you were the only one who was aware of his ethereal beauty. Your concentration was unconsciously broken the moment your eyes landed on Scaramouche, head wandering through scenarios that you created about him and made your heart race without your permission.
The situation got to the point where one of your teachers called you to talk about your sudden lack of attention during class and your friends started to worry, asking you if everything was okay, you just shrugged it off as a personal problem.
Maybe if you took the time to actually talk to him and get to know him better, that would stop, right? Wrong.
It was incredibly difficult to maintain a topic with Scaramouche (that or he didn't pay you the slightest attention). He was closed off, in a way that scared you. His hat was still stored with you inside a large bag that you took to school every day. You weren't the shy type, so why so much trouble handing his belongings back? It's not like you got attached to it or anything...
But in the end, talking to him ended up being inevitable, as you were paired up together to work in pairs by a great irony of fate. All you had to do was ask a simple "what do you have in mind?" for him to start babbling on his own, and you just assumed that was how you'd bring up a topic next time...
"Next time?" This should be the last one! It was just a matter of handing over his hat and continuing with your life, but did you really want that?
He would never know the dark places your mind wandered to as he spoke huge sentences without a single pause. How his velvety voice sent you soaring.
It was so naughty of you to take your fantasies — that you were supposed to have in the confines of your room — to the classroom, your thighs rubbing against each other under the table in search of relief.
"Are you even listening to me?!" His call would bring you back down for a second. Your chin rested in the palm of your hand, but without stopping your mouth from opening and a little drool dripping from the corner.
Maybe you would listen to what he had to say if he threw you face down against a counter, aggressively took off your shorts just to fuck you from behind :(
Of course, it'd be more difficult to understand and assimilate what he wanted to say in your fucked out state, but he could thrust the knowledge into you!! Moving his waist like crazy and laying his chin over your shoulders. His mouth so close to your ear that all you could hear were his off-key moans.
He'd look so cute all concentrated!! Eyes closed and sweat running down his forehead. At some point he would get so out of control that his tongue would roll out, and thin lines of drool could be seen in his mouth. You could be his little fuck toy, as long as he uses you and only you for his pleasure.
The way he'd squeeze your waist too... After having made you cum so many times, of course that area of your belly would be sensitive! The way he squeezes you, at the same time he thrusts his dick with all his might into your wet hole, you think you're going to faint. It even feels like he's hugging you like a cute teddy bear, without caring how messy he's leaving your insides.
"You're not paying attention again..." he complains, clearly irritated. You nod and he rolls his eyes, continuing with his speech when he thinks he's got your attention.
But maybe that's not the right way... He should leave you on your knees in front of him, sucking his dick willingly so you can learn your lesson. Doing your job of cleaning him up after he had taken his cock out of you.
Classes end and you say goodbye to Scaramouche. He's clearly surprised when you pull him into a hug, rushing out before he can say anything, smiling and giggling. Now you were covered with his sweet scent. The same fragrance that impregnated his hat.
Oh, and about the hat... Who knows, maybe one day you'll return it to its owner again? It's still very useful to you. (╯︵╰)
part 2
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mariasont · 6 days
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Office Sleepover - A.H
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a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever
might make this a mini series?
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3
wc: 3.8k
Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?
It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.
"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"
Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 
Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."
True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.
You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.
The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.
Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"
"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."
"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"
"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.
Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."
He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.
Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.
There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 
You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.
His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 
"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 
You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.
"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"
"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."
Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.
A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.
The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.
Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 
A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 
Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.
With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 
His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.
It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.
The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.
Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.
He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.
He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 
A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.
He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.
Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 
As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 
"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."
In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.
"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."
"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.
Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."
With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.
"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"
"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"
"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."
"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 
In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 
You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.
Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.
With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 
The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 
Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.
Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 
He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.
The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.
"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."
Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 
In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 
As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."
The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"
Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."
You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."
Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.
Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.
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runningmunson · 2 years
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A Good Life
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Aemond wants to take you on a morning ride, you just didn't think it would be on Vhagar. Fluff. Warning: None, but correct me if I am wrong!
Masterlist
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You were awoken by the sound of your handmaiden, Margaret, going through your closet. You let out a soft groan and rolled over when you realized the sun hadn't yet risen.
“Good morning, my lady!” she said, too cheery for the very early morning.
“Is it really a good morning if I am awoken at this time of day?” You said dryly. She took no offense to your tone, knowing you hate mornings.
Margaret just chuckled, “The prince has sent me to fetch you. He wishes for you to accompany him on a morning ride”
Of course Aemond, your betrothed, would be the reason for your early start to the day. In the time you have gotten to know him you’ve learned he is an early riser, either reading in the library or already practicing his sword work.
Margaret was bustling around your room, “Hmm, you’ll need your riding pants. Maybe your hair in a braid? What do you think of this, my lady?”
You finally raised your head to look at the outfit she held in her hands, “That would be fine, thank you.”
Once you were dressed and satisfied with your hair, you thanked Margaret for her work and left to find Aemond. You walked into the library and found him sitting in his usual spot with his nose in a book. When he heard the sound of your shoes on the stone floor, he looked up and gave you a closed mouth smile. He placed his book to the side and stood up to greet you.
“You look as lovely as ever. Are you ready to go?” He took your nod as an okay and linked your arm with his guiding you to your destination.
Confusion struck as you walked past the stables, but you didn’t question it and kept walking. Maybe his horse was housed elsewhere? But once you saw the dragon pit in your sight, it hit you. Oh, he meant for you to ride his dragon.
“You-you meant a ride on Vhagar?” You questioned, stopping right before you made your way inside.
Aemond let out a laugh, showing off his beautiful smile. You could get lost looking at his smile. It wasn’t something he showed very often, usually opting for a reserved look, but you would give anything to see him more happy and relaxed. “Yes, on Vhagar. What else would I ride?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a horse like the average person?” You said, shifting your weight.
“My dear, I am a Targaryen. We are anything but average. Soon enough you will share my name and bear our children. You have to get used to dragons eventually,” he smirked, amused at your fear. He grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before dragging you past the pit and toward a clearing a bit out of the way.
Despite courting for some time, you had never actually seen Vhagar up close in person. You had heard stories of the battles she fought and her sheer size, but nothing could prepare you for the real thing.
You let out a gasp. She was significantly larger and looked worn down with age but just as strong as the other dragons you passed. Aemond watched as you took her in, studying your face for any worry, but he didn’t see any. There was only pure amazement on your face.
“Vhagar, this is my betrothed. Now you take kindly to her. She means a great deal to me,” Aemond whispered to her while stroking her on the face.
“She’s amazing,” you smiled. You looked to Aemond as if silently asking permission to touch his dragon.
“Come here,” he beckoned you over. He grabbed your hand and placed it on her body. The texture of her scales was foreign under your touch. You slowly began stroking her the same way he had. Vhagar closed her eyes in contentment. “She likes you.”
He gave you a few moments to get acquainted with one another then made his way to mount her. Once he got situated, he had a dragon handler boost you up. His hands securely grabbed yours when you got high enough.
Aemond placed you in front of him on the saddle and grabbed the reins. You spoke before he had the chance to go anywhere, “This is safe, right?”
“I would never intentionally put you in harm's way. I am right here behind you,” Aemond said, and with that, he signaled Vhagar to move.
She got up from the ground. A squeal of shock left your lips. She reached the opening and stretched her wings, taking off. Your back was flush against Aemond's, and his arms tightened around you to prevent you from sliding.
Your eyes were squeezed shut as you ascended further into the air, not wanting to see how high you were getting. “It’s not as bad if you actually open your eyes, (Y/N).”
“How do you know my eyes are closed?” You asked, your voice shaky.
He chuckled, “Just a lucky guess. Trust me, the view really is amazing.”
You slowly pried your eyes open, and sure enough, you were faced with a view of Blackwater Bay in front of you. You turned your head to look behind and noticed the sun rising over the Red Keep. You started laughing, “You’re right! We are flying, Aemond! This is amazing. The view is just beautiful!”
“I told you so,” said Aemond. Except, he wasn’t looking at the view, he was looking at you. He looked at the way your loose hairs blew in your face giving you a wild look, the excitement and wonder in your eyes, how you turned back to smile at him as he finally took you to experience something important to him- even if you were hesitant at first. All he felt was pure unadulterated joy at this moment. He felt free.
Vhagar landed once they reached his favorite place in King’s Landing. It was a secluded spot that overlooked the water, a place that was just his, and hoped that it could be yours too. He slid off the saddle and onto the ground. You followed his guidance, sliding off and waiting to be steadied by his strong arms.
He led you to a patch of grass and sat down, patting the spot next to him. As soon as you sat down, he pulled you between his legs and wrapped his arms around you to pull you close.
“Do you ever think about running away? You could go anywhere! I mean, the possibilities are endless when you can fly,” you asked him, curiosity in your voice.
“Sometimes I do. My life would be easier if I could. But unfortunately, my innate sense of duty prevents me from doing so,” he frowned. “And where do you wish to go?”
“I would love to travel west, explore lands that have yet to be found. How amazing would it be to have our own little place where no one can tell us what to do? Somewhere we can escape and be our true selves,” you leaned in closer, nuzzling your head in his chest.
“I cannot promise to run away with you to lands unseen. But I can promise to give you a good life wherever we are.” Aemond placed a kiss on the crown of your head, dreaming of the life you will form together.
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zolawffy · 11 months
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Calling them out their name!
Ft. Zoro, Law, Crocodile, Doffy, Sanji, luffy.
Zoro
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Zoro was literally minding his business and training. He was clearly trying to focus. But you decided to go bother him, the usual.
“Zozo!!” You call out to him. He sighed in annoyance because he heard you coming. However, he couldn’t stay mad because he hasn’t seen your pretty face all day. He took a long glance at the beauty before him before continuing his training.
“Hey.” He said positioning all 3 of his swords. You knew he was serious because he had his bandanna on.
“I’m bored we should go out today before its too late..” you say eyeing him. He still didn’t even look your way. So you got a little upset. He just ignored you.
“Zo.” You said firmly.
“What is it Dammit, I’m a little busy here woman.” He said lifting the dumbbells off of his swords. You decided to do something very crazy to get his attention.
“Why you gotta be a bitch all the time?” You said resting your head against your hand. Oh girl you thought he didn’t hear that? You heard the dumbbells drop and his swords did too.
That mf was caught ALLLLLL THE WAYYYY off guard. You seen a vein or two pop through his forehead. He was mumbling and cursing under his breath, he was mad as hell. He took his weights and trained elsewhere.
poor zo.. 💔 dont worry you guys made up.
Law
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Law was just sitting down on the couch. Earlier, he’d act like it was such a task to swap places with the pile of clothes, making it easier to get the clothes into the correct room.
You were mad at him because you had to do it all by yourself. However, you weren’t that mad when you developed one of your silly plans in your head.
You never called Law out his name before. But the way he’s looking at you while acting lazy, had you on boiling point.
“You’re a bitch sometimes, law.” You said before his eyes shot open. He was appalled too. He rarely ever heard that word come out of your mouth anyway.
“M’ sorry mama.. you don’t have to call me names. I’ll make it up to you.” He said motioning to the cushion beside him.
Law was too sweet and too chill to actually react badly. He doesn’t like that you called him a bitch but he understands why you did it. Though it wasn’t right. He still love you thoughh.
Crocodile
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Ma’am i think you’ve lost your mind.. 🧠 here ya go.
Crocodile was sitting in his office working away, the usual. And it was toooo quiet. He looked at his watch snd calculated that you should be walking in any minute now.
That’s when you came into his office.
“There you are, Sweet girl..” he said signing his papers.
“Hi croc. You said you’d take me shopping today.” You smiled as you leaned onto his desk. Your favorite store had new clothes come in and you heard its selling fast. So croc promised to take you there.
“Did i now?” He said signing away. You started to pout and doubt he was even listening to you. Which he wasn’t. You sighed aloud.
“Yes and the clothes are gonna sell out before we get there.” You said pouting.
“Cheer up sweetheart. My work ran a bit overtime today. I still have a lot to d—“
“You Dick head! You’re a liar too.”
He laughed then removed his cigar and blew his smoke. “Is that what i am, sweet girl? Sweet girls don’t use that language.” He said firmly.
You were mad. So so mad. So you decided to keep going.
“Ughh you stupid fucker—!” You yelled at him. But he just stared at you. He didn’t laugh this time.. i think you done it.
“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble, girl.” He stood up.
Lets just sayyy you wont call him out of his name again and he madd sure of it.. you gonna need a wheelchair maam, take one and go. 🦽🦽🦽
Doflamingo
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Listen here ma’am, NOT A GOOD IDEA!!!
You were talking to your friend, (one of doffy’s servants) and you both were talking about Doffy.
Doffy was sitting at the stool at the kitchen island reading a newspaper about himself. So he wasn’t paying attention to you guys.
“He can be a bit ruthless sometimes, i dont know hoe you do it..” she said looking at you with sympathy.
“I mean yeah you’re right he is a bitch sometimes.” You shrugged. You heard a grunt and you turned towards him.
“Oh really.”
“Yes really and you know that.”
“Have you forgotten respect already, darling?” He said getting to eye level with you.
Yeaaah that night you definitely got a little punishment. And yes he did use his strings.. i got a lil lazy for this one but i might add moree.
Sanji
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Sanji is too precious to do anything to hurt you. However if you called him out his name, he would feel like he did something horrible.
So he would make you a variety of foods, lights some candles, give you a bath, massage you, PAINT YOUR TOES, AND GIVE YOU SOME WINEEEEE. and maybe even some fun time after. Just to make up for his guilt.
Luffy
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Luffy— of course he did something. He’s always doing some.
He ate ALL YOUR DAMN FOOD THAT YOU WERE SAVING!! what more do you have to do.. you wrote your name on the box and he still doesn’t listen.
He ate all the food and you called him s bitch. He just laughed and said the food was good. Poor luf luf doesn’t care or doesn’t know what it means.
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anemoxlys · 6 months
Text
Thranduil x Reader Cinderella AU
The fat crush I have on this man (this is the 18th piece of writing I have done for him-
Can you tell I just watched Into the Woods?
Word Count: 2000+
“Please Valar…” You whispered before swinging your legs out of your bed and quickly rushing to put on your clothes, the cold of the morning startling you slightly. It had been a few hours since you’d been up before the rest of your household woke as well, buzzing with a certain energy that they only ever got during ball season. “Oh I simply cannot wait!” Angelica squealed, grasping her hands in Marjorie, her sister’s. “Yes, the prince is bound to choose one of you.” Your stepmother agreed, sitting down at the table before snapping her fingers to gather your attention. “Yes ma’am?” You hastily ask, dashing over to her. “Have our gowns ready for tonight, and remember you must feed the dogs whilst we are out.” She sighed, as if talking to you was this time consuming, wasteful task. “I-I was wondering if I may not join you this ball, ma’am?” You softly murmured, nervousness flowing over you. “You, join us?” Your stepmother cackled, clearly finding the prospect ridiculous, “My dear, if you were to come with us, who would clean the house in our absence?” She continued, patting your head before speaking again, “Now, tighten those corsets. We want to grab the prince’s attention after all.” She commanded. Dutifully, you did so, trying to withhold the tears from slipping down your cheeks.
You watched, silently as your ‘family’ rode away from you, their carriage spreading out of the gates without you. Finally, you let yourself cry, fat, ugly tears slid down your cheeks as you sobbed in the driveway. “My dear, why do you cry?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Apologies, are you lost ma’am, maybe I can help?” You immediately responded, wiping your cheeks dry. “It seems as though you are the lost one, is there not a ball tonight?” She asked, resting her hand on your shoulder. “Yes, though I am not allowed to attend.” You smiled sadly, “Are you sure I cannot help miss, I have food if you need or water..?” You asked softly. “I shall make you a deal, you get me a loaf of bread and I shall make you go to the ball.” The strange lady offered. “Of course.” You responded, wholly unbelieving her side of the bargain as you hurried inside to get her the food she wanted. 
“Here you go, miss, safe travels.” You smiled, handing over the loaf, alongside some extras that you packed. You moved to turn around only to be stopped, “It seems I have yet to uphold my end of the deal, do turn around dear.” She called, watching as you followed her instructions.             -     
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” You whispered, clasping your hands together before the carriage door opened and you were forced to step towards the palace. “Miss?” A man’s voice sounded. “Yes, sir?” You asked, nervousness flowing through you. “May I accompany you inside?” He asked, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Me?” You started before realising how rude you probably sounded, “I mean, yes, if you wish.” You corrected, an embarrassed smile falling across your face. The man standing before you was horribly attractive, long blonde hair framing his face perfectly, a pristine black outfit hugged every muscle flawlessly, and his hands were so unbelievably soft when they gently took yours. “Tell me, what is the name of the most beautiful lady in this kingdom?” He interrupted you from your thoughts with his sweet, deep voice. “I do not know sir, to be honest I do not attend such events regularly enough to have an opinion.” You answered honestly, pure terror now overflowing you as you began to walk up the stairs, eyes falling on you as you did. “You look nervous?” The man beside you asked, concern in his voice as you felt his own eyes settle on you. “Just a bit.” You replied before a nervous laugh spilled out of your lips, “Who am I kidding I’m amazed I haven’t run off yet.” You smiled awkwardly, trying not to clasp his hand too tightly. “Don’t be, you look divine.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. “That means a lot, thank you.” You grinned, some of the anxiety leaving you, “May I ask your name?” You questioned, noting the surprised look on his face, “Apologies, as I said I do not attend social seasons regularly.” You immediately backtracked, your face turning hot. “Not at all, my lady, I was simply taken aback. My name is Thranduil Oropherion.” He answered as your eyes widened. “My prince-” You began before he cut you off, “Do not say anything.” He began, pressing his finger to your lips before realising what he had done and immediately pulling back, “I enjoyed our conversation before. It was… refreshing to not be a soon-to-be king to everyone.” He elaborated, watching as your face grew a small bit less flushed. “Of course.” You murmured, taking in a quick breath as you reached the top of the stairs. “Don’t be nervous, just think that they’re staring at me.” He muttered into your ear before the doors swung open revealing a large gold ballroom, paintings covering the roof. 
“Prince Thranduil Oropherion.” The herald announced as the room grew silent and all looked up the stairwell. “Should I have arrived with you?” You whispered as you looked down at the room full of people all staring as you began to descend the stairs. “Do not worry.” He replied before chuckling slightly, “Probably not though.” He continued as you shot him a horrified glare, causing him to laugh slightly more obviously. “Only now we are expected to dance.” He grinned, leading you towards the centre of the room. “You planned this all along didn’t you, my prince.” You hissed, mentally preparing yourself to step on his feet. “What are you accusing me of, my lady?” He smirked, outstretching his hand for you to take. “I’m not a good dancer.” You admitted, a slight laugh escaping you as his face turned mildly horrified, “I’m not going to leave with broken toes, am I?” He teased. “Quite possibly, your majesty.” You replied with a grin of your own. 
You smiled softly at the memory, sweeping the floors as you recalled last night before you had fled the palace. “Wench!” One of your stepsisters shrieked, most likely calling you to prepare them for the second day of the royal balls. “Coming!” You replied removing your apron before running upstairs. “Corset.” She spat, bracing herself against the bed frame. “Of course.” You muttered, getting to work on pulling at the strings of her corset.
-
“I am glad to see you again, my lady.” You heard the now familiar voice of the prince. “To think, I came through a different entrance and everything.” You joked. “Indeed, one might think you were trying to avoid me.” He half-jested. “Indeed.” You agreed. “Why did you run last night?” He asked, taking a step towards you. You remained silent. “Do I scare you?” He started, this time you interrupting him, “You could never, my lord.” You hastily denied, “You wouldn’t want to be seen with me outside of this palace. Let us enjoy what we have here as it cannot exist anywhere else.” You murmured sorrowfully before walking over to get a drink, leaving the prince by himself. 
-
“That bitch was there again!” You heard Angelica squeal before attempting to hit a high note on a song her and Marjorie were learning with their singing instructor. “I know!” Her sister replied before also attempting the same note. You were amazed your ears were still intact with how loud their screeches were, yet you survived the constant war against your senses. “Y/N!” You heard your stepmother call, breaking you from your thoughts. “Coming ma’am!” You called back, placing the broom against the wall before reluctantly walking to her study. You knocked before hearing the confirmation of you being let in. “What do you need from me, ma’am?” You asked, bowing your head as you shut the door behind you. “The stable boy has fallen ill, clean the stables.” She ordered before dismissing you with a wave of her hand. 
-
“My lady.” You smiled as the prince’s voice came to your ears. “My prince.” You replied with a sad smile, knowing that this was the last time the two of you should meet. “May I finally learn your name?” He asked, taking your hands in his own. “I told you my lord-” You began before he interjected, “May I not know the name of the ellen who has taken my heart?” He pleaded, his eyes practically staring into your soul as he spoke. “I may give you a hint my lord.” You gave in, your own heart beating to the same rhythm. “Anything.” You opened your mouth to speak before noticing the clock as your face grew pale. “I must go!” You hastily muttered. “Please, your name is all I desire!” Thranduil begged, reaching for your wrist. “I am sorry, my prince.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you slipped your glove off of your hand, leaving it in his and fleeing down the stairs. As you did so, your foot caught on one of the stones and you slipped down some of the stairwell- your foot sliding out of your shoe as you did. Glancing back up at the doorway, you saw the prince racing down the steps after you, watching with wide eyes as you quickly slipped off your other shoe and fled, leaving one behind. 
-
“That whore took up the whole ball all three days!” Marjorie sobbed into your stepmother’s shoulder as you swept the fireplace, careful to not spill any ashes onto the carpet. “I know.” Your stepmother comforted before a knock on the door caused her to pause. “Shall I get it stepmother?” You asked as she glared at you. “Of course.” She responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Right away, ma’am.” You muttered, standing to move to the door, accidentally knocking over some of the cinders. “You stupid girl!” Your stepmother screamed, her hand coming to slap your cheek, “Clean those up, I shall get the door. Stupid child.” She spat, not caring as tears began to slip down your cheeks at the sting of her hit. 
“We really must see every ellen.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as the sounds of footsteps came towards you. “My daughters are all you need to see, our housemaid does not leave the house much.” Your stepmother immediately shut down the idea as you continued to sweep. “No matter Elaron.” A familiar voice reached your ears. You forced your head to stay down, however your sweeping has ceased, the urge to look at his face one more time growing nearly overpowering. 
A loud, piggish, squeal reached your ears as Angelica tried to shove her foot into your shoe. You watched out of the corner of your eye, a small smile on your lips as she was rejected- her sister taking her place as she also tried to shove her hoof into the clearly too small heel. 
“I thought I said to clean that up!” Your stepmother hissed, stalking over to you as you hastily began to clean again. “Sorry, ma’am.” You softly apologised, flinching away from her as she raised her hand up. “There is no need to violence, miss.” Thranduil’s voice once again reached your ears, his voice sounding more hopeful than before as he carefully walked over to you. “What is your name?” He asked, voice full of desire. “I am afraid I cannot tell you, my lord.” You responded softly, a grin falling over your lips as he sharply breathed in. “Elaron!” He quickly called as the sound of more footsteps came. “May I?” He asked, kneeling down before you, shoe outstretched. “Of course.” You answered, finally looking at him. Carefully, he slid the shoe onto your foot, his face erupting in happiness as it slid further onto your foot without resistance. “You have the other?” He asked, “I would hate for my queen to walk with only one shoe.” He continued as you reached into the pocket of your apron- pulling out the second shoe which he carefully slid onto your other foot.
I hope you enjoyed, I know it's not as long as some of my other works but I like the length for this fic (I feel as though if it has been too long it would have been less enjoyable) Let me know your thoughts, and if there are any typos please let me know I do not proof-read...
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purplelupins · 1 year
Text
Happy Together
Part I Part Il Part III
The Black Phone
Albert Shaw × Fem!reader
Summary: Nothing like a new city. You just wanted a fresh start, and something comfortable, but what happens when you start to see the exact same patterns in Denver as you did before?
Warnings: the following warning are for the full fic, and not just this first chapter. PLEASE READ THEM. This is a DARK fic.
Dub-con (note that this is a kink so it is actually wanted), Daddy kink, size kink, pet names (princess, kiddo, sweetheart, honey and more) mentions of death (including murder, torture etc), cumming in pants, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f and m) begging, breeding kink, innocence kink, biting, adultery, infidelity, stalking, mentions of kidnapping, home break-in, fighting (verbal and physical)...more will be added.
Note: this is a commissioned piece for @mandowifey 🤍🤍
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It’s often perceived as a cliche when someone claims that time stood still for them at a certain moment, but there cannot be a cliche without some truth. Indeed, neither you nor Albert moved an inch for what very well could have been an hour or a mere five seconds.
Your eyes were fused to one another’s.
Locked in a dare to see who would act first.
With adrenaline practically replacing your blood, you moved your hand to your outer thigh faster than ever to grasp the long blade strapped there. However, you weren’t fast enough. Al’s hand found the back of your head and gripped your hair; he yanked your head back in an attempt to knock you off balance, while you found the handle of your knife. Your scalp screamed at you but you paid it no mind.
Acting on the rush coursing through you and the excitement of Albert’s equal fight, you brought your foot up and hit him square in the diaphragm. In the back of your consciousness, you could head Samson barking from another room, but you couldn’t focus on that. His grip loosened on you just enough as he coughed, and you took the opportunity to lunge at him; you managed a solid punch to his injured cheek- knocking him back in his chair, and landed square in his lap. You heard him hiss, but wasted no time in raising your weapon to his neck and smiling wickedly.
Gotcha.
“You know, Mr. Shaw, I’d prefer it if you bought me dinner before you go pulling on my hair like that.” You moped, sticking your lip out like a child just to toy with the temper you saw flaring behind those dead eyes of his. So pretty.
“You viscous little-“ he started, but you had no reason to show mercy, so you pressed your blade a little more into that vein in his neck that pulsed so beautifully.
I bet it would look just delicious with blood pouring from it…
A shiver went down your spine at how pretty he would look with more blood on him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He snapped, eyes ablaze.
You blinked slowly. It was as if his words had to filter in through your brain as you came back from being lost in thought. “I prefer princess, too. Not much of one for name calling.” You tilted your head to the side, eyeing the cut that reopened on his face thanks to you. “Red suits you…” you added, remembering his comment about how blue suited you that day in the diner.
“What do you want?” He rasped, hand still firmly in your hair. Not that it mattered- hell you barely noticed it anymore, it was more comforting now.
“Me?” You thought for a moment to add a little drama, “Oh you guessed most of it…just want a nice man to call my own. Not so bad, hm?” You smiled. “I’m not that unreasonable am I?”
Albert shifted under you, and swallowed against the blade. “And what…you kill along the way?” He asked.
You shrugged like he had only gotten the answer partially correct. “Well…adulterous behaviour needs to be stopped before it starts , you know. Someone needs to suss out the men who don’t deserve all those pretty wives…happily married or not, so why not me?” You scrapped the blade down the stubble on his neck, “Besides, it’s a bonus if they’re desperate enough. Can get a good fuck in before I-“
Your guard had dropped just enough for Al to yank your hair again and grab the arm with the blade that had been poking into him, but not enough for him to get the upper hand. You fought against his vice-like grip on your wrist, huffing out little laughs here and there. He was far stronger than any of the other men you usually engaged with, especially men his age.
You went to use your free hand to deliver another knock to his injury, but it seemed Albert already knew what you had planned before you did. His hand caught your arm a mere centimetre from his cheek, and a smirk pulled at his handsome face. You, however, managed to twist said arm from his remarkably tight grasp with a sharp jab to his collarbone with your elbow. With you momentarily distracted by the small victory, Albert was quick to slam your head into the wall beside you.
Stars sparked before your eyes for a few moments.
A maniacal laugh bubbled up from your chest when you bounced back- barely deterred. If anything the knock had given you a jump in energy. Seeing Al’s bewildered, bloody face from your resilience was possibly the best thing you’d seen all year.
Albert could feel his blood growing hotter with each second as his frustration took over.
How the fuck is she so strong?
Neither of you moved for three seconds until realization set in, but when it did indeed kick in, it hit you first. This time, you weren’t playing nice. Before he could grab you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and dug the tip of your knife into the base of his skull; the tip was already making a small incision.
“That wasn’t very nice.” You pouted again, “I was just trying to talk-“
“Cut this bullshit out kiddo.” He snapped, shifting his hips as you pinned him to the chair in your new position, “I’m not your demographic, you know that. So what. Do. You. Want?” He growled out, his breath fanning across your face.
You could feel your skin start to buzz the more Al spoke to you; he was smarter than you had anticipated. Observant, analytical, calculated… it all made you warm.
“About that, you seem to know what I like…so what do you like?” You grinned evilly. It seemed only fair that you poke as just many of his buttons, “Although, I think I might have an idea…Please tell me you’re him.”
“Who?” He rasped out- his face had lost most expression long ago. It was lax and deadened now, but his stoic default made you squirm.
“The one they’re all talking about…the one your own brother never shuts up about over there.” You tilted your head to the bulletin board, “The little boy grabber.”
Al’s eye twitched.
“That’s not-“
“Alright, The Grabber.” You said dramatically, smiling in his face.
As Samson continued to howl and bark from Al’s room, the older man showed no signs of distress or discomfort if he was feeling either. Although, you didn’t miss the fact that he was likely growing tired…it wasn’t exactly an optimal time to be awake and he was far from a youthful man. You, however, were in no rush.
“Samson, down!” Albert called out gruffly, followed by silence. Finally after a few minutes of contemplation on his part, Albert sighed,“Yea, they call me that…” he said, running his tongue along one of his canines.
Your eyes lit up and you wiggled with excitement; in doing so, you inadvertently came closer to Albert’s front, which you paid no mind but he cast his eyes away in a last effort to see an escape- or so you assumed.
“No fucking wonder you punched a hole in the wall! How can you listen to him go on about you?” You felt your heart rate pick up, “So what, you like little boys? That’s your thing? What do you do with them? Are they stuffed in your walls? Is it a sexual thing?” Your rapid-fire interrogation began to set Al on edge and you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped. But sadly for you, Al knew that this was exactly what you wanted.
So instead of snapping at you, he risked getting cut. Albert whipped on of his hands up, and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, squeezing hard as your blade drove into the back of his neck, “You talk too much, kid.” He hissed as blood began to trickle down his spine, but didn’t account for having his hand close to your mouth.
You jerked out of his grasp and sunk your teeth into his hand, and pressed your blade harshly against the cut already made. The two of you both snarled and panted at one another like wild animals, until you finally released his hand; a very noticeable bite mark left behind that he would have to explain everywhere you went. You were delighted.
Watching his pupils expand and contract was hypnotic as he tried to gain control over his rage. You inhaled and sighed out, leaning a little closer. “You’re fun.”
Albert had put you on your tippiest of toes, and you found yourself hoping it would happen again. As if to prove your point, you rolled your hips against him, and gasped when you felt his hardening length twitch. You tsked him and did it again, “What’s this? Grandpa can get hard? What is it? Being over powered by a young woman? The knife? Ooh is that your thing? You get off on being dominated?” You mocked him.
As a smile over took your rosy cheeks, Albert gave into impulse and smacked his forehead into yours with a crack.
“Shut that mouth of yours before I make you shut it again, princess.” He rasped, those sharp crooked teeth of his exposed as his lips pulled thin. But you didn’t miss how his voice seemed to be a little more breathless, nor how you had to resist the urge to draw blood from his lip with your teeth. Your ears still rung from the impact but it only made your need to taunt him further.
“You’re just a filthy old man aren’t you, Mr. Shaw?” You rubbed more deliberately against him and your grin deepened when you felt his hips rock against you despite his stern features.
“I think you need to understand that you’re not the only big shot here in Denver any more…but you knew that as soon as you looked at me didn’t you?” You cooed, dragging the cool blade down his back. “Did you like it?” You breathed.
“What?” He barked, shifting under you.
You rolled your eyes.
“The sweet, scared neighbour! I do love playing the part…” you preened.
He huffed out a laugh.
“You’re a horrible actress.”
“I had you fooled…even if it was just for a few weeks.” You winked, “So sad it’s ending now though…”
You dragged your knife up to his collarbone and pressed, flicking your eyes to his. Soulless meeting soulless.
Daring each other to make the next move.
Then he snapped.
Albert let you cut him as he grabbed your throat and slammed you back against the table. Adrenaline gripped you and you were about to bring your knee into his ribs when the front door opened violently. Both of you whipped your heads towards the sound, and were greeted with the untimely entrance of a distraught Max- his eyes red and shoulders drooping to the ground.
You both froze.
“God Al I’m sorry…” Max started, hands over his face as his emotions took over. Al and you silently released each other, keeping your eyes trained each other lest the other decide to toss caution into the wind, “Shit, I just- you know how I get and I-“ Max seemed to have not even noticed you and Albert in the middle of a life or death fight in the kitchen.
He began rambling on about how he would fix the wall and calm down about his conspiracies, all the while you were still locked eyes with the older man ready to snap your neck. You almost dared him to- you’d love to stare into those baby blues as your life faded. But when Albert didn’t move, and in fact seemed to silently tell you to not even think about doing something, you knew the game was over for the night, and took that as your sign to leave. You retracted your blade, and pushed up and off of his warm lap. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth when you saw the bulge against the leg of his jeans. It was in your best interest to run out the door, and you did; however, not before licking his bottom lip, leaving a string of saliva between you. Albert stared up at you- that thick crease still between his brows that made you want to melt. You smiled at how stern his face was in contrast to clearly how much he had enjoyed the fight…whether he knew it or not.
You were out the door and back home before Max even noticed. The only thing signalling your leave was Samson’s three barks.
Once you shut your front door, you could finally take inventory of your body. Head spinning; muscles aching; heart pounding. But you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft, exhausted laugh as your head fell back against the door. Sweat covered you, and you decided upon a shower as if you had t just stared death in the face and licked its lip. However, when you cast one more look outside your front window, you were met with the same gaze you had just ran from. Albert stood in his living room, Max still pacing behind him, staring unashamedly at his young little neighbour like she hadn’t just given him the best fight of his life.
It was as if you had both just started a game of cat and mouse, but neither of you knew which was the predator and which was the prey.
That night had changed everything. Your smile was sharper and your every step had a spring in it, just in case it was your last. Contrary to what most people would assume, everyday you awoke a little disappointed that you were in your bed with no middle aged man watching you, or evidence of someone snooping through your home. You admittedly wished he would try to frighten you, or actually act on the impulses you knew he felt.
Now when you saw Albert, the waves you exchanged seemed to hold a promise in them; what that exact promise was, however, had yet to be fully decided. A promise of one of you getting to the other…a promise of an eventual understanding…a promise of combined forces…you didn’t know.
What you did know, however, was that you hadn’t felt so giddy in a very long time. Certainly playing the part of a new girl in town was enjoyable while it had lasted and you now had to move on from it at least for Al, but knowing that someone out there knew your secret while harbouring their own made you dizzy with excitement. This was what had you bouncing everyday.
It was a game you had never played.
If you were honest, you were beyond ecstatic to play this particular game with Albert Shaw. There was something so exhilarating about toying with a man as striking as he, and you craved that cold gaze nearly every waking moment.
You wanted to see him angry.
Scared.
Amused.
Frustrated.
Blood thirsty.
He had confirmed your thoughts regarding him without any prompting, and you wondered what else he might confide in you. You wondered why he did what he did…where he did it.
When?
How?
Why now?
Had he killed for his entire life or was this some midlife crisis he wanted to test out while he was still in good shape? Was he remorseful? Merciful? Did Max really not know? Did he have a tag line? Was he inspired by anyone?
Your mind spun like a washing machine; it all came back to the same question.
Who the fuck was Albert Shaw?
Of course, Albert had the exact same question for you.
Who was this little hellion that had unceremoniously nestled into his perfect little life? How long had it taken for him to build that basement into the perfect cell; to establish a routine that the watchful eyes of the neighbourhood would know; to make himself seem like a simple, unsuspecting man of Denver who is just a quiet, nice man? How long? Years. Fucking years. Then within a matter of months, this little wretch had come along and all but shattered it.
Albert had watched you when you dashed back to your house. Well, it was barely yours; you had broken up the aging family that had lived there for decades in a matter of weeks…he hadn’t known who had done it but he had to admit he was impressed when he saw your little head bobbing along up and down the path to move in. There was no way in hell that it had been a coincidence.
And he had been right.
Too right.
There were no such thing as coincidences when it came to you.
Albert had half hoped that when he followed you home that day and scared you half to death driving after you, that you might flee, and leave his routine alone. But when you had gone home after touching the hood of his van, and had locked your doors and muttered to yourself “Im gonna getcha I’m gonna getcha getcha…” over and over as you took your sleeping pill, and didn’t even notice him in the dark corner of your living room…he had decided he wanted to know more.
But then when he finally had you right there…he realized too quickly that he had mistakenly underestimated you.
And he had realized how much he enjoyed it.
He thought that by figuring you out and having you confess, he would somehow gain the upper hand and feel that fear he had of you dissipate…but then you had sat yourself right there in his lap like a present and pulled that blade out from god knows where…and he hadn’t felt so alive in a very, very long time. He had wanted you to stab him, hurt him…but you didn’t. He had wanted for you both to tip over the invisible edge and have one come out the winner, but it didn’t happen. You both remained firmly planted on the edge, teetering precariously.
If it was a game you wanted, it was a game he would give you.
It started small.
You knew he wouldn’t simply let you carry on living as if everything was peachy-keen, and sunshine and rainbows. At first, you thought he might do exactly that, especially when the following morning was horribly dull. So boring in fact that you found for self waiting extra long before pulling out from your driveway, and even stood in the back alley a little too long while taking out the trash…just in case he would pounce. Admittedly, you started to think very poorly of the man, wondering if he really was all that he was made out to be, or if he was all bark and no bite.
Then came the next morning. That bright, early dawn brought with it a very sour taste in your mouth in the form of four very flat tires on your little car. It didn’t take a mechanic or even anyone with brains to see that they each had very neat stab marks in them from a sharp kitchen knife. You slowly brought your gaze up to the house across the street, and while you didn’t see him, you felt him. You knew Albert was watching you. You knew he was gloating in that sick satisfaction of rendering you helpless. It was impressive how heavy his stare was- it sent goosebumps up and down your arms without you even seeing it.
Albert watched you kneel down to inspect the juvenile slashes on your tires that he has inflicted. While sloppy, there had been something liberating about jabbing a knife into something with no clean-up after.
Eyes trained on you, he watched you nod, as if you were showing him you understood that the game had begun.
You felt yourself unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek as excitement began to take you.
However, while you wished you could have run to the older man watching you, and picked up where you had left off before max has interrupted, you had a part to play. You cast your gaze from left to right, then found your target; one of your neighbours further down the road had just left his house, and you knew his wife was still asleep. The change in your demeanour was instant- so instant that Albert nearly choked on his coffee when he laughed. Distress riddled your features as you began looking around frantically, as if the culprit would return at any moment to do something else. To your credit, even you started to believe that you were scared of the older man across the street as you imagined him coming after you with a knife. You knew he was intimidating, but there was the undeniable simmer of warmth that came over you in his presence, even then as you inspected the damage- knowing that Al had stood there so close to your home with a knife and had taken the time to stab each tire…you almost felt flattered.
Almost.
But mostly you felt ravenous. Your teeth itched at the memory of how his tanned skin had felt in your jaws, and how pretty those marks looked on him. You wondered if he had liked it…you hoped he did. If he had, it would make this all the more fun, but if he was a prude then you whined at the thought of having to break him in like new shoes.
You had slipped into full hysteria now, and in your state, you managed to gain the attention of the family man you had spotted on his way to work. Johnathan you thought his name was…something like that. He was a little too dumb for your liking, but he was nice, and trusting, and those were two attributes you needed in your “saviour” in that moment.
“E-excuse me?”You called out to the man. He did a quick look around the nearly empty neighborhood. but once he spotted you and seemed to confirm with himself that you were indeed speaking to him, you had his undivided attention. In fact, he even started to come towards you, and you were fairly certain he didn’t even realise it.
You began to walk to him, wringing your hands. “I’m so sorry to bother you…you’re on your way to work aren’t you?” You began, pretending like you cared about anything.
“I am, but what’s 5 minutes? You don’t seem to be doing alright, miss…” he seemed nice. Gentle, and as you had anticipated…a little dim.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming over here…it just- gosh I’m sorry I’m so rattled…but it seems I’ve been the target of some late night mischief…do you think you could give me a lift to work, sir?”you begged, pushing your breasts together to help him make a choice.
Albert watched you practically throw yourself at that bumbling idiot from a few houses down. It was comical to him now- you had your little routine down so perfectly as you told the moron about how your tires were slashed. John was his name, Albert recalled seeing him babbling at the yearly neighbourhood block party in the summer- always looking for someone’s ear to bend…someone to validate him. Worked as an accountant. Dull and stupid as they come, just good with numbers.
He breathed out a humourless laugh- you certainly knew your way around the cocks of Denver, even if you didn’t know what they all looked like. And John was the perfect man for you right then- a hopeless man who would very well give you his house if you rubbed up against him.
Al’s mind wandered, Albert felt himself throb in his pyjama pants as he stood there, remembering how you had felt in his lap. How warm you had been, and the friction of your cunt against his jeans. Your blade pressed to his throat and eyes all wild. You had looked crazed, and by god Al had wanted to take a piece of you…just a piece. He wanted to dissect it and know what made it tick.
Hear it
Smell it
Feel it
Taste it-
A twinge of pain cut Al’s thought’s short, and made him look down at his hand. Sure enough, some of the busted skin of his knuckles had opened and begun to bleed as his clenched fists pulled the skin tight over his bones.
The older man’s eye twitched.
You had done this to him. This was entirely your doing- everything had been fine until you rolled into Denver; he wasn’t about to let you get off that easy. The moment Albert had decided to take that knife out to your car, and the moment you had nodded in understanding upon finding the damage, a silent competition had begun. Now, with that confirmation, and knowing that you were both locked in for whatever kind of ride this torment would be, he was elated.
There was a game to be played, and you were not about to slack on playing it. To start, however, you needed time to plan, and time to execute. Making people worry about you wasn’t in your play-book, but when used appropriately when you did indeed chose to employ it, it worked in your favour. It seemed that the best course of action would be to feign sickness, so that you could excuse yourself easily in the next week should you need to keep up with any of Albert’s challenges. You had been sure that when that man from down the street dropped you off, you put on your best weakened demeanour and dry cough, which you had perfected once you had arrived at the diner. When Anett had asked if you were alright, you of course waved her off and told her you were fine…but she had insisted that you just manage the counter and didn’t serve; patting you on the back.
It was nearly laughable how easy it was.
With your car out of commission for a few days, you took it upon yourself to do the responsible thing and call in sick the day following the incident. You were, after all, a good girl in everyone’s eyes; more concerned about the well-being of any diner-goers than yourself. Getting anyone sick was the last thing you wanted.
Well, at least that was what you had everyone believing.
With a day off on your hands, you decided that you would make the most out of having the metaphorical ball in your court. A million and a half ideas went through your head to get Al back for the damage he did to your car, but you had your heart settled on one that would likely make those pretty eyes of his twitch, and his strong jaw clench. Certainly it would do nothing to weaken his pocket, but it had high possibilities of making you howl with laughter. And what was so wrong with amusing yourself?
You patted yourself on the back for having listened to Albert when he had off-handedly mentioned where he worked weeks ago. After an off-handed comment you had made about how fit he was for sitting an awful lot at home…he had been quick to snap at you that he did physical labour all day and that you should watch your mouth. After that you took the liberty of enjoying his sturdy frame a little more with the mental image of him huffing and grunting with heavy loads.
The store front of Floro Hardware Store came into view as you rounded the corner of the street, and you did your best to hide your grin. Under your breath, you compulsively muttered the same sentence over and over like it was a promise. “I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha getcha…” as you fixed your skirt and shirt.
You had noticed Mr. Shaw had a particular liking for your dresses and skirts that had made their way into your closet since the warm weather started; you nearly giggled to yourself when you remembered how he had almost driven you and him off the road that day you had hopped into his van and bent over the seat to get a popsicle.
Poor old fuck.
The bell above the door rang and you let your eyes drop open like a doe; looking around hopelessly and helplessly in the hardware store. It became abundantly obvious that females were not a common sight in that particular establishment, and your presence stuck out like a sore thumb; by the turn of every head when you entered, everyone else was very much aware of that fact. You slowly walked up to the counter and pouted to yourself when Al wasn’t there immediately to greet you. In his place was a young man. It looked as if he had been slapped in the face by a ghost moments earlier as he stared at you, and you hid your scheming grin as best as you could.
Action.
“Excuse me, could you help me?” You asked sweetly. You placed your forearms on the counter and let your breasts push up - something this young man very much noticed.
It took him three seconds to look up from your cleavage, and a whole five seconds before he finally managed to speak.
“Y-yes. Yes I’m here for you- well not just um…for you- uh but I- I can help.” He stuttered out, ears turning red by the second.
Man…Albert was a poor old fuck for almost busting in his pants, but at least I would have gotten wet over it…this poor boy is about to explode in his pants and call his mom to pick him up and buy him an ice cream.
Ice cream….
You mentally punched yourself for not purchasing an ice cream before turning up to the shop to taunt Al. The look on his face would have been delectable.
“You’re so sweet…um, I need to get a car jack…do you sell those here?” You inquired, batting your eyes, and running your finger in a circle on the wood counter.
“W-we don’t have a lot…I’m uh- that’s more of a mechanic thing.” He said, scratching his neck.
“Oh?” You pouted, and looked embarrassed at your misunderstanding.
His eyes widened. “B-but we do have some! They’re just down here.” He clumsily made his way out from behind the counter and began walking deeper into the store. As soon as he passed you, you let your blush fade and you eyelids drop so as to give yourself a break for a moment. In true teenage fashion, the boy smelled like body odour and some sort of hair product that made you grimace.
“They’re just down there, um..do you know what you need?” He asked.
“I’m not too sure…you seem awfully smart though, think you could help little old me figure it out?” You touched his arm lightly and shrugged like a clueless bimbo.
He blushed and looked down at the jacks. , clearly not knowing what to say as his mind went blank. You grinned and put your hands on your hips as you thought. “I have a Ford Pinto…someone slashed the tires and I-“
“Emmet?”
You both froze. Emmet from the fact that his boss was calling him and you from the rush of excitement that struck you like lightning at the sound of said boss. Menace or not, Albert’s voice now meant ‘fun’ to you.
“I-I’ll be right there Mr. Shaw.” The young man stuttered, his face flushed and sweaty.
You stifled a giggle as you stared up at him, and covered your mouth when you heard the heavy footfalls of big, bad, boss man.
“What did I tell you about leaving the register like that? You know someone could just walk in a-“ Albert came to the aisle that held you and Emmet it in, and he came to a standstill. Ridged.
You both stared at one another, and you gleefully watched him fight to not take in your appearance. The skirt that barely came mid thigh and shirt that left little to the imagination. If you were honest you missed your more comfortable clothes…but you had a game to win and if giving up comfort meant just that, then so be it.
“Sorry, Mr. Shaw- I was j-just helping this lady-“
“That’s fine, back to the front…” Al nodded towards the front, signalling for the young employee to leave, “I’ll take care of this young woman.” He made little to no effort to hide his irritation.
Neither of you even watched Emmet scurry away, though you decided to add one more log to the fire, “Thank you for taking such good care of me Emmet!” You called after him, eyes locked on Al’s.
Now, as you were finally left alone with the older man, you smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, grandpa.” You teased him, “So…is he your demographic or do you like younger?”
The older man’s eye twitched and by god you wanted to kiss the skin that pulled ever so slightly at the tick. Or perhaps bite it.
“What the fuck do you want?” He growled as he took a few steps closer to you.
You hummed and looked down at the heavy jacks on the lower shelf. “Well you see, Mr. Shaw, I was a victim of a vehicular violation…and I take violations very seriously.” You cooed, bending over as if you were checking the prices. You knew you were offering Albert a very full view of your panties that were tight against your plump lower lips; practically begging to be kissed. You wondered what it would feel like to have his mouth against-
“You and I both know you had a damn tow truck take your car away this morning.” He rasped, taking another step into the aisle.
“Did I? I’m so forgetful.” You pretended to think.
You were about to straighten up when you felt a firm hand at the base of your neck pull you up. You almost gasped but another hand over your mouth swiftly dashed that possibility. Albert shoved you against the far wall at the end of the aisle, and you did your best to look afraid and confused instead portraying how excited you were. A fight in that store would be exhilarating.
“Look you little bitch…you’re going to listen to me.” His rough voice almost began to gain a strange, playful lilt to it, and you wondered if this was how he spoke to his victims, “Do not try to wedge yourself into my life like it’s something you deserve. What you deserve is to go find another town and fuck it up. Stay away from Denver.”
You watched him closely, and muttered out “Or what, Mr. Shaw?” Against his hand, which came out muffled but it seemed he was talented in understanding muffled voices.
“There is no “or what.” I’m tired of you here, and I have a certain amount of respect for…someone like you. So get out of here while I still have that.” He whispered.
Your eyes slowly hardened, and you truly couldn’t help yourself, not when he was being so condescending to you. No one told you what to do, and even though you wouldn’t mind Albert Shaw doing just that in a different setting, this was not that time. So while those thick finger still sat over your mouth, you sunk your teeth into two of them hard and bit down until he wrenched his hand away.
“God- fucking hell…you need a damn muzzle.” Albert hissed, and clenched his hand. You noticed again, that he only took a step away, and that his pants looked to be…uncomfortable.
“You alright there Mr. Shaw? You look a little riled up.” You mocked.
Albert held his hand in a tight fist, weighing it in his hand like he was debating having you eat it or not. Evidently, when he took another step to the end of the aisle and looked straight ahead to the front of the store, he chose not to attempt to send you to the hospital.
“Just get out. Don’t let me see you here again.” He muttered.
His choice disappointed you, but did not surprise you. You pouted, and walked towards him none the less. This was meant to be a game, and it certainly wasn’t over yet. As you passed him,you made sure to brush against his front and let a breathy moan escape you to see if it would send him over the edge. Make his cool demeanour shatter.
It didn’t.
And then, the ball was in Al’s court.
The stunt you pulled at his work resulted in both a pesky and almost titillating turn of events. Each morning, and nearly every night, you came to find that Albert was now enjoying the pleasure of moving various items in your home. Water glasses placed where your feet would sit the ground; toilet paper hidden, shampoo emptied; hair ties in your freezer, and panties gone- your least favourite, just to name a few. He even moved your medications and you noticed that he thoroughly enjoyed leaving cabinets open and moving furniture just an inch or so in the way so your would walk right into them; he must like how bruises looked on you.
It didn’t seem to matter how many locks you bought, or traps you set, Albert always managed to get inside, and mess with your safe haven. It became a constant reminder that you had thrown any hope of a haven out the window when you decided to try and seduce Al that night when he was battered. Not that you regretted it- it had been the most fun you’d had in years. You gathered the high it gave you was likely similar to the high of a line of cocaine.
To answer his little home invasions, you took it upon yourself to pick his lock and leave a pair of your panties square in the middle of his bed. Seeing as he was intent of touching all of your belongings, why not just give him one?
By a stroke of luck, while you followed him that same day to a local park, you came to find that you were, in fact, witnessing one of his stalking escapades. To add more fuel to the metaphorical fire, took it upon yourself to be a good bystander and inform the adolescents he was watching that the Grabber would get them if they weren’t careful. Of course they were sceptical at first, but with a quick “How can you be so sure?” And a nod to a conspicuous black van down the street, you watched as they hopped on their bikes and scrambled home. All you heard following that was the screech of tires as said black van peeled out of the neighbourhood. Interfering with each other’s hunting hadn’t been a part of the game yet, and you knew that by introducing the new rule it opened up a plethora of possibilities.
This stunt had earned you a particularly nasty retort by Albert.
Your evening had initially gone perfectly. With your car in the shop still, you had opportunity after opportunity to exploit your inconvenience. This particular night, you had desperately needed a ride home after work, and you counted your lucky stars when a familiar face had just so happened to be walking by where you had been standing. Not that he needed to know that you had walked three blocks to “bump” into him, or stalked his schedule for a week.
“Th-thanks again for driving me home…I owe you.” You said gently, grabbing a glass to fill with water for him.
Steven -you had learned his name was- had indeed been your knight in shining armour that night. He was leaned against the counter, smiling. “Oh it’s my pleasure…Not like we’re total strangers, right?” He replied.
Not strangers at all.
You laughed gently and shrugged as you passed the glass to him, “I suppose not…your sure your wife doesn’t mind? I’d hate to make you late for dinner.”
“Hm?” He looked down at you from taking a sip, “Oh Nancy and I are used to opposite schedules…she’s a night clerk so, uh…I’m all yours.” He tilted his head and winked at you so fast you almost didn’t see it.
You let a blush grace your cheeks and you fidgeted, falling into your routine. “You know…um…I- Sorry would you like to sit?” You stumbled over your words, and nodded to the couch. It seemed your suggestions elated Steven, and you had to admit you were too; the knife strapped to your thigh was making you itch with anticipation.
The spot you took on the couch was perhaps a touch too close as your knees brushed against one another, and his quick intake of breath was exactly what you wanted.
“Can I ask you something?” You muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Yea, defiantly.” He replied as he moved a touch closer to settle in.
You sighed, and looked embarrassed.
“Why…why are you here with me? Right now?” You asked.
You’re here before I made sure you would be, but that’s besides the point.
For a moment, Steven looked confused, and you knew it was just as fake as your tale of needing a ride home, but of course you played along. This man knew exactly what you were saying, but he wasn’t about to let that on- he had a part to play too after all; an innocent husband who was simply trying to help a young woman out and certainly didn’t want to get his dick wet in her.
“Why am I-..? I gave you a lift, remember?…a-are you feeling alright?” He even went so far as to touch your knee with his hand.
You gave an audible gasp.
Steven’s eyes searched yours, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you bashfully looked up at him. His eyelids grew heavy, realizing just how close you were to one another.
“Yes, yes I’m fine…I-I don’t know…I’m…I’m just nervous I suppose.” You admitted, a shiver running down your spine, “Forget I asked, it was a stupid question…”
“Nervous about what? Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” He cooed to you, and you felt your heart skip.
“No…it’s just-“
“Just?”
“I like you…have for a while…” you caved, and looked away, shrugging one shoulder.
He was so close, his lips almost brushing yours.
Steven let out a breathy laugh, “Have you now? Well I suppose that makes two of-“
Knock knock knock.
The jarring sound caused you both to jump apart from one another as your heads whipped towards the front door. A bolt of dread shot through you when you saw blinking red lights come through the window. Dread settled deep in your stomach at the thought of the authorities finally catching up with you.
You looked at Steven and he looked at you, eyes wide. You were almost certain he was about the jump out the window and run; most likely thinking Nancy had somehow found out about the two of you and had called the cops on you.
“One moment…” you said and stood, crossing the room to the door and opened it. You were greeted with a very burly man in a full fireman’s uniform and a firm expression on his face.
You swallowed.
“Good evening ma’am…we received a call regarding a strong smell of gas emitting from your home…everything alright here?” He asked, casting his eyes around the interior of your home. You blinked and shook your head.
“No- no nothing…I haven’t noticed a thing.” You said.
The fireman nodded, “Mind if we check any outlets and gas lines? Can’t be too careful.” He stated more than asked.
You knew that if you said no he would only push more, and you also knew that any hopes of roping Steven in tonight were dashed thanks to the scare, so you shook your head. “Not at all. Please, come in.”
He shuffled past you, and for the next ten minutes you waited as three firemen checked your home. Of course, your mind was already beginning to spin as you thought of how this might have happened.
On the couch, Steven sat awkwardly; part mortified at being caught in your home and partly because he had been attempting to calm the hard cock in his pants. The idea of hauling him into your bedroom and locking the door fleeted through your mind, though you decided against it…Steven was done, and scared off, at least for the night. If you wanted him to play your game you needed to start all over again, and you were too tired.
Tired, and angry.
In fact, you were fuming.
There was no use in pretending that you weren’t. You had been working on Steven for months ever since he looked at you longer than he should have that first when you got off the bus. If it werent for the very charming driver for the fire truck keeping you company, you would have been tapping your foot and carving a hole in the door frame.
“I’m sorry you have to wait like this ma’am, it’s a real cold night.” He said, looking around at the beiludet neighbours of yours that took up upon themselves to inspect what was going on.
You sighed
“I just don’t know who would have called it in…it makes no sense. I haven’t even been home all day so-“ you caught yourself mid sentence and felt your eye spasm.
No…
Your ears started ringing as realization dawned on you. Very slowly, you turned your head to gaze across the street, and when you saw Albert Shaw standing on his front step eating an apple, you thought your teeth might break from how tightly you clenched your jaw. He stared back at you with a grin that could only be described as evil.
“You alright ma’am?”
You could barely make out the voice of the fireman in front of you.
A wave of rage washed over you, when you saw the elder Shaw shoot you a wink to match his grin before disappearing back into his house. He knew he was untouchable so long as the firemen where there, and if you did come to him and pick a fight, he was beyond ready.
You looked back to the driver and smiled sweetly, “I live near a lot of elderly folks…you know how paranoid they can get. I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”
The man laughed lightly and nodded, “Tell me about it…pretty sure my nana wanted me to be a firefighter just so I could rescue her old cat every week and get paid for it.”
You laughed along, pretending like you didn’t want to stab the closest thing to you. Sadly it would have been him if you didn’t have your self control in check.
The man, evidently intent on distracting you, continued his onslaught of stories from work that made him laugh. As your anger began to subside, and the ringing in your ears turned into his voice, you began to notice how nice it was. He was sweet. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair that had a little silver to it and a sharp smile…and a pretty gold band on his finger too.
Your blood began to run hotter in your veins as you locked onto the yellow metal. You wondered if his marriage was happy…if he kissed his wife goodbye everyday or if they hadn’t spoken in a week. Were they friends or like roommates? Was he a father?
“-then my buddy had to catch the other side of the stretcher because I was about ready to pass out an-“
“What- um,” you mindlessly cut him off, finally looking up at him instead of at the house across the street. He seemed taken aback by your sudden ability to talk, “…gosh, I’m sorry…but what was your name, sir?” You asked, shyly. It seemed he found your faux coyness endearing.
He grinned. “Marc.” He replied, and held his hand out to you to shake, which you did just as the other men came out from your home.
The man in front heaved a sigh and gave a tight lipped smile.
“Welp, all clear here. Sorry to bother you ma’am.” He said as he guided the others back to the massive red truck.
You blushed as you stepped out of their way but bumped into Marc.
“Oh it’s miss.” You said, ducking your head down a little while they stopped to speak with you, “Thank you for being so thorough…I’m glad nothing was wrong.”
“Just doing our jobs, miss. Keeping you safe is number one on our priority list.” They nodded, and each of them cracked a smile at how embarrassed you seemed to be.
It never ceased to amaze you how much men latched onto a sky or feeble woman. It was easy to assume it wasn’t everyday they got a call that involved a pretty little thing all worried in a sundress and blushing for them. And of course it wasn’t everyday that you were surrounded by men twice your size, telling you they were there to protect you.
They left after another moment, but you didn’t miss how Marc cast you one last look before driving the massive vehicle away. He even waved a little, which you returned.
You grinned. Not a total loss to an evening…
“What a night…” came Steven’s voice behind you.
Your eyes had glazed over as you imagined Marc under you, telling you he loved you.
“Hm?” You hummed as you refocused , “Yes…I’m so sorry about all that…” you sighed, “Theres a lot of elderly families here and while I love them, I think they can be a little paranoid.”
Half true.
But saying that you have a homicidal magician living across from you who you’re in a battle of wits with simply didnt seem right.
Steven said something about needing to head home, but that he would call you. You knew you said something back- something he wanted to hear- but your eyes were glued to the house across the street. You knew Steven wouldn’t call you. You knew that you wouldn’t see him except for at that coffee shop; knew that he would be terrified of Nancy finding out about his continued infidelity that you knew he struggled with since that first day you saw him stumble out of the pub with his friend when you stepped off the greyhound downtown.
“I’m gonna getcha…” You chanted in your head.
And you fully intended on doing just that. Though you weren’t certain what you would do if you did get Albert…it didn’t bother you one bit. You wanted to get him, and whatever else that entailed.
Knock knock knock
Your knuckles rapped against the front door of 7740 Irving St. And you stepped forward enough to crowd whoever opened the door. Only a few moments passed before you heard Max muttering “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” over the sound of Samson barking. You put on your best smile when the door opened and waved brightly.
“Morning Max! Could I bother you for a minute?” You chirped.
Max looked…unkept. You wondered how long ago he had woken up, and gathered it had to have been no longer than half an hour ago. He stared down at you for a moment, his unlit cigarette hanging there on his lip, “Sure thing. Come on in.” He said, standing aside and waving his arm dramatically like he was a half-dead showman.
For a man so paranoid of the world around him you were surprised by his lack of any guard…or if he had it he hid it well.
Once you came to stand in the living-room, you clasped your hands together and looked down , even wringing your wrists.
“This is going to sound so strange but…I was wondering if I could steal one of Al’s shirts?” You asked bashfully.Max’s eyes went wide and he stared at you confused. This request must have been odd enough for him to sober up a little.
You sighed and pretended to come clean, even avoiding his gaze to sell it.
“I-I know it must sound weird but Al was wearing this one the other day and it was just so cool and I’m pretty sure it was vintage…he said I could borrow it sometime and I totally forgot to pop in earlier…I don’t think he would mind though if I just grabbed it. Is that alright?” You pushed, laying in every ounce of charm you could to get your way. You knew it was odd and that if Max was in his right mind he would ask more questions, but you hoped you caught him before he was able to sober up too much.
A moment or two passed. You were about ready to push harder, but it seemed you didn’t need to.
“Y-yeah, I think that would be okay.” He said, nodding with his hands on his hips like he was capable of making a judgement call.
As if he had a choice.
A bright smile adorned your face.“You’re the best! I owe you.” You said, already walking into the house towards Al’s bedroom. It seemed Max didn’t question how you knew where his older brothers room was, and you were thankful for it. Not that questions would stop you, but they were tedious to deal with.
As soon as you stepped foot inside, you shut the door behind you and took a deep breath- inhaling the smell of Albert Shaw. For a moment, your head spun; you wondered about everything that had happened in that room alone. You wondered how he looked laying in his bed; sleeping, reading; cock in hand, cumming over a magazine….
But you didn’t have time for that.
You walked to his dresser, and pulled open drawers until you found his shirts. It didn’t take long for you to find one you liked, but you took your time nonetheless to ensure you did this right. You knew he was in your house often enough, and you felt it was only fair to enjoy being in his space; ensure that he was aware of your close presence.
It seemed that a burnt orange button up became your favourite, and you laid it on the bed to inspect your decision- touching the buttons fondly. Everything smelled like him. Of course it did, and it started to make your head dizzy.
“Any luck?”
You were snapped out of your daze when Max’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Yep! I’ll be out in just a second.” You called back with an eerily cheerful voice that how emotionless your face was.
Anticipation filled you for what was to come. You knew shoving Al’s privacy if his face would rattle him, but by god you hoped he snapped. Before long, you were replacing your own shirt with the button up, and tucking it into your skirt and putting your blouse in his drawer.
You jumped with excitement for a moment, then quickly walked to the door and moved through to the living room where Max flipped threw the TV channels. “I owe you Max!” You called. He said something back, but you didn’t hear it as you ran out; intent on getting to a certain hardware store that now counted you as a regular customer.
You are practically bouncing by the time you opened the door, and truly couldn’t hide the vicious smile you dawned when you saw that Al was right there at the counter, engrossed in an inventory sheet. The bell rang, and you saw his customer service face automatically take over his handsome features.
“Good mor-“ he started, but his greeting cut off as soon as he saw you; his eyes narrowed and he sucked on his teeth as he took in the very familiar shirt, “What the fuck are you wearing?”
You shrugged and sauntered up to him without a care, “I wear skirts all the time, you know that Mr. Shaw.”
The crows feel beside his eyes were as prominent as the crevice between his brows as he glowered at you.
“You know I’m not talking about that little skirt, kiddo. Stop breaking into my damn house.” He rasped, putting his clipboard down and crossing his arms; you tried and failed to not enjoy how the tendons and muscles stretched under his skin as he did so. You wondered just how strong he was… if that had been his full strength the other night or if he was holding back.
You pouted like you knew he hated, and leaned up onto the counter, knowing very well that you had left enough buttons undone for him to see that you were wearing a lacy black bra that barely contained your breasts. “You didn’t like my panties last week?”
Albert’s eye twitched.
As did his cock.
Of course he had hated the panties. He hated how he imagined how they would sit against your cunt, stretched over your lips, trying to soak up your slick but failing as it dripped down your soft thighs. He hated how he had to sit in his bed with his legs spread wide as he wrapped them around his hand and pumped his thick cock until he came all over his fingers. He hated how once hadn’t been enough.
“No.” Al stated, barely moving an inch. It was only when the bell above the door chimed that he dropped the scowl and put a smile on his face, “Morning!” He called to the customer, his voice going up in a lilt that made a shiver run down your spine.
Your ears began to heat up, and your panties suddenly felt uncomfortable.
Once the man disappeared down one of the aisles, Albert turned back to you and it was too little too late for you to recover from the unpleasantly pleasant feeling forming between your legs. It seemed that Al noticed just as soon as you did when your cheeks coloured pink, and you suddenly stopped holding his stare just for a moment.
Albert leaned over the counter to you, but regardless of your situation, you didn’t move. Even as you stared at a chip in the worden counter and squeezed your thighs together.
“Something bothering you there, kiddo?” He cooed to you in that same, high voice that made you feel so small.
To save yourself from humiliation, you fixed your face, stared him in the eyes and smiled. “Nothing at all, Mr. Shaw, just enjoying the nice smell of this shirt I’m wearing.” You tilted your head to the collar, and took a deep breath.
Albert’s eyes widened. It seemed he hadn’t expected that.
“Get out of here. And wash my shirt before you return it.” He snapped, placing his palms down on the counter, rings making a ding against the wood.
But you just smiled wider. “Oh I’ll have to…I know, between you and me.” You leaned forward into his space until you were just a breath away, “I think I’ll have to take this to the dry cleaners…don’t think my poor washing machine will be able to handle the mess I’m going to make wearing this later in bed.”
You felt your stomach grow warm when his ears began to go red. Your eyes flicked between his, daring him to scream at you, pull you over the counter or haul you into the back and do unspeakable things to you…anything.
But Albert had what you lacked.
Control. Great…deep control.
“Get out.” He whispered; words turning to air against your own lips.
“Always a pleasure Mr. Shaw.” You chirped.
You were gone and out the door before he could even catch one more glimpse down your…his shirt.
Albert rubbed his eyes. “God dammit…”
The starched collar of your uniform made you itch for a moment- for some reason you just couldn’t get comfortable that day. It was easy to tell anyone who asked if you were alright that you just weren’t feeling your best, but there was no tricking yourself; you were bothered. It had been two days since you taunted Al at his work, in his shirt, and you could still hear his voice in your head. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you had slipped your hand between your thighs…you were always left wanting-
“Sugar could you be an angel and take the trash round back? We’re making a record today I swear.” Anett called to you as you wiped down an empty table.
You gagged in your mind, but nodded and smiled, “Sure thing.”
The smell of grease permeated the air as you walked back through the kitchen from the front; sure enough there were two large trash bags sitting waiting for you. Judging by the smell, you didn’t want to know what was in them, though you knew you had certainly cleaned up far worse messes than those. Something about blood made it so much easier to clean than old diner food though…it seemed so tranquil and simple. No smell, no worries. Just water and bleach.
With a deep breath away from the bags, you used your hip to open the back door, and grasped both bags; they weighed a tonne, and would have been easier to carry one at a time but, you weren’t about to be back there any longer than you needed. You hauled one into the bin, and grabbed the neck of the other-
“Need a hand there kid?”
The kid of the garbage bin slipped from your hand and landed with a resounding bang. Your hairs stood on end.
What was that old saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?
Hell, Albert must have been right up there with old Satan because you didn’t even have to say his name for him to sneak up on you.
Of course, the last thing you wanted to do was to let on just how startled you were by his sudden presence, nor how a heat shot directly down to your navel at the sound of that strange lilt- it wasn’t like his ego needed more of a boost.
“The entrance is around the other side, sir.” You said, lifting the lid again without turning around.
You heard him breathe out a laugh, and the shuffle of his feet as he took a step- presumably towards you.
“I think the entrance I’m looking for is right here, sweetheart.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes and held the lid open, giving theatrical wave as you turned around, “Climb right in.”
Albert tucked his keys into his pocket as he watched you deposite the other bag. It made him laugh to himself at the image of you in such a domestic position such as throwing out a bag of trash; he had watched you drag dark garbage bags around countless times, but with far more incriminating excrement than what you dealt with right at that moment. You looked so human to him that he almost thought he made up the depraved things you got up to in your spare time.
Almost.
If he hadn’t committed said crimes to his memory, and the mental image of you with it he might have…but he had yet to get the vision of you covered in blood from his mind. So rabid.
“You really do have quite the mouth on you…you know that, Princess?” The older man chided, watching you closely as you seemed to make no move to escape him.
“Yours ain’t that wonderful either, Mister.” You replied, hands coming to your hips.
Albert’s eye spasmed, but his firm grin didn’t falter, in fact if anything his teeth shone through a little more. If your bite hadn’t been as hard as his you might have cowered away from such a predator.
The two of you stood there for a long ten seconds.
Nether of you moving an inch, neither of you looking away.
Locked.
It wasn’t until a door shut somewhere down the alley that Al cast a slow look around. It seemed that what me saw satisfied him enough to take a step forward, and let his hands drop to his sides. The hairs on your body began to stand on end as goosebumps sprung up. Albert was smiling. And not just any smile; it was comfortable, and while that might not have put you on edge, his arms so comfortably limp at his hips made you watch him a little closely. There was something sinister to seeing anyone so at ease.
“Is there anything you don’t have a response to, kid?” He sucked on his teeth bitterly, “You just never know when to quit or when you’re out-done.” Al spoke so casually, you almost forgot what he could likely do to you with no one knowing.
He took another step, slow enough for you to almost not notice.
Almost.
You shrugged and slammed the bin closed, “A girl’s gotta be prepared, Mr. Shaw. There’s an oughta lot of creeps out there.”
Another step.
“I’ve heard. You’d better be careful who you trust…you might get yourself in a sticky situation.” Albert’s gaze began to burn into you. Certainly you could hold your own against him but there was something so deliberate about that stare of his that afternoon. So precise.
“I’m a big girl. Think I can handle any of those creeps that think they can take me…they’re stupid if they think so.” You replied as unbothered as possible.
Another step.
You had forgotten how tall he was.
Truly how much bigger he was than you.
You refused to believe he was stronger though.
You so badly wanted to stand your ground. Every bit of your stubborn mind told you to not move, let him get in your space but don’t move. Then, the closer he got, you truly couldn’t help but take a small step back.
Tiny.
Minuscule.
Barely a breath of a step. But it was enough. Enough to let Albert know that he had you.
You bit your inner lip at your weakness- you might as well have offered your neck for him to bite into.
“See…I think you’re a whole hell of a lot more scared than you let on, kiddo.” He said, continuing his slow stalk towards you, and you in turn gave in to your retreat.
“Oh? Of what?” You chirped with a childish grin as you held onto the fight you had left in you. As if he would know…
Albert shrugged comically, and shook is finger at you.
“I don’t know yet…but something tells me you have a need for attachment, don’t you?” His smile stretched.
A sharp pain stabbed your heart. Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but just like your small step back had been, it was enough. A simple, small tell. A crack in your perfect façade.
“Ah…makes sense.” He mused, “All those men who you so desperately want to love you…but none of them live up to what you want do they?” He hummed in that singsong voice that made your nipples harden.
You knew he had watched you on those nights you played with your prey, but you didn’t know he heard you. “Tell me you love me…” it was the same thing every time…they never said it. Or they never meant it.
You smiled like you weren’t shaken by the idea of him knowing, and shrugged in hopes that the terror building inside of you wouldn’t show. “Well if that’s what I’m needing then what’s your deal, old man? Daddy a little too mean to you so you’re beating the shit out of little boys to try and understand why you were treated so badly?”
Albert stopped.
You smiled wider. “Oh that’s it isn’t it? You’re just a sad old fu-“
Albert’s large, veiny hand was wrapped around your throat and lifting you up against the wall he smashed you into before you could finish your taunt. In your need to save face, you missed how close he had gotten to you. Your head hit the cold cement of the side of the building with a hard thud that made your mind spin in a dizzy circle.
“Someone’s going to have to teach you some fucking manners one of these days and you’re not going to like it.” He seethed, breathing your air like it belonged to him.
“If it’s you doing it then I might like it a little.” You chirped as if your vision wasn’t going starry.
He laughed in your face.
“Yea? I bet you’d enjoy it until my belt started to paint a pretty, red marks on your back.” Albert’s brows came down heavy over his eyes.
“Tell me more.” You ground out. In a last ditch effort, you used his ego to your advantage and waited until he thought you’d pass out before bringing your knee up into his ribs.
Albert gasped out for a moment, lending you enough time to sink your teeth into the meat of his hand, and knocking his ear. The subsequent ringing in his head disoriented him for a moment, and you were about to push him over into the dirt before returning to work when adrenaline gripped him; Albert let out a sound you could only call a growl, then before you knew it, your back was against the wall again, but this time his hand wasn’t the only thing holding you off the ground. His thick thigh nestled between your legs and kept you perched there whether you liked it or not. The grip he had on you now was not just to keep you there, it was to prove a point; that he was faster, bigger and better than you. Certainly you were younger and very fast and equally strong, but there comes a certain extra advantage to being older. The ability to anticipate is something that can only come with age, and you had yet to get to his level.
Poor thing.
“Princess, you’re fucking impossible, you know that?” He half laughed, half rasped out as he pressed you against the concrete with his chest, barely leaving room for you to breathe. “My van is just down the end of this alley, I could take you right now and no one would care would they?”
You bit your lip- refusing to give him any satisfaction. You tasted blood from how hard you bit down.
“They wouldn’t even fucking notice, huh? You think you’re so damn important and loved, don’t you? Tell me.” Albert ran his nose along your cheek, Au hung in a breath by your ear.
“Answer me!”He lifted you up a little more on his thigh, and your feet were completely off the ground. You felt like some little doll of his. But then he knocked you on his muscle to get a better grip on you, and the friction rubbed your clit perfectly. You couldn’t help it: you gasped.
Albert froze, and those hard blue eyes of his trained so intently on yours that you thought he might see through you.
Then a look passed over his face that made your stomach flip. It was like a dare. He did the same movement as if to test you, or to confirm with himself that you had indeed reacted in such a way. And just like before, you truly were betrayed by your body when your hips rocked against him.
Your eyes began to sting as your vicious walls began to crumple under his touch. Sure you had been intimate before with men, but there was something about the cruel nature of his that matched yours; your veins were ablaze with scorching blood.
“You…” he was at a loss for words.
She…wants this?
As the thought filtered through his head, something crossed his mind. Albert took his free hand that wasn’t around your throat and pinned your hip to the wall, taking away any ability you had to move. A soft whine emitted from you and you feebly tried to fight against him as if you still believed you wouldn’t give anything in the world to come right there on his thigh.
“P-please.” You whimpered before you could stop yourself. You wanted to thibg it was a plea for him to stop and let you go, but you both knew it was a beg for more. For closure. A deep, carnal need.
Albert huffed out a puff of air that fanned across your face and you stared up at him- dazed as your arousal clouded your head. All you needed in that moment was the friction to return.
Albert guided your hips this time, dragging you against his jeans and you cried out- much to his pleasure. Your sensitivity was beyond anything the older man had seen with his own eyes; you felt as if you were a new toy he was trying to figure out. He, in turn, watched as your dress bunched up around your hips and the dark mark you were making.
“Jesus, kiddo…you wearing any panties?” He asked incredulously.
You nodded desperately.
“Yea? Those little black ones I wanted to rip off you? Bet you would have liked that huh? Wouldn’t even learn your lesson…you’d just do the same over all over again, hm?” Albert tightened his grip on your throat as he continued to move your soaked pussy against his thigh. You could feel the tip of his hardening cock each time you rocked against him, and your mind began to short circuit at the thought of having it inside you. How he would stretch you, and force you to fit his length inside you. How warm his cum would be as he filled you…
In your daze, you forgot to answer him, and he tightened his hand even more, “Answer me.” He growled, grinding against you erratically.
But you could only moan out as the air was blocked from your windpipe.
Someone could so easily walk past you both, but it seemed you collectively did not care. If anything it spurred you on- the idea of someone seeing you being taken advantage of made you clench down around nothing and you were keenly aware of how empty you were.
“You’re a disgusting little thing…” he chided. You knew he was starting to lose it just as much as you- his words were breathier, and his mouth was practically on yours as he spoke.
Then, as if you both couldn’t help it anymore, your lips collided in a painfully messy kiss. Your teeth hurt as they clanked against his and your tongue was abused by his, but you cried out a desperate moan as you humped shamelessly at his well muscled thigh. Your clit almost hurt from how stimulated it was.
To your dismay, his hand left your throat, but then you felt both come to your hips, bringing you to his groin as he rutted his cock against you. You gasped out into his mouth when you felt it firmly press into your flesh; you could only imagine how thick it was, and how painful taking the tip would be…
His bit at your lip, and sucked on your tongue. Your mind started to go blank as your orgasm built, and apparently your mounting whines and moans and pleas were enough for Albert to understand. “That’s it, come on…atta girl, come on you can do it…you’re gonna come right here on my fucking thigh…” he rasped against your lips, “You hear me?”
You nodded, and began to babble incoherently. “P-please I cant- I’m gonna…god- please d- don’t let me go, I’ll come -d-daddy!” You didn’t mean for that to slip out, but you couldn’t care. Evidently it was enough to send Albert over the edge of his own orgasm.
He groaned against your mouth.
“Fucking- god you’re a little whore…my little fucking whore…I won’t let you go- fu- I got yo-you.” He ground out as his hot sticky cum coated the inside of his pants. You nodded helplessly, and let go as he continued to use you to ride out his high. You released one of his shoulders to cover your mouth, but he ripped it away and sealed his lips over yours as you came. Your hips twitched and you felt your cum soak into his pants, likely leaving a stain. Your thighs were sticky, and you swore your dress would be ruined.
Your heart beat erratically in your chest, and pulsed in your ears. For one long minute, you couldn’t think and could hardly register that your lips were still moving against his. You could taste blood, and something sweet that made you never want to part from him. Then, very slowly, you both pulled apart- a cold string of saliva connecting your lips.
Your eyes lazily locked onto his, and under his blissful gaze, you felt like the only thing in the world to him.
Your eyes stung, and words ached on your tongue that you couldn’t say.
He sighed, and pushed your hair out of your face.
“Let that be a lesson to not test your neighbours, princess…there’s some creeps out there.” He murmbered against you, then his thigh was gone from between your legs.
“W-what?” Your heart sunk down to your ankles as you watched him right himself, and pat your cheek.
“Do me a favour,” he said, already turning to leave, “Leave a window open tonight…I’m an old man and I’d rather have an easy entrance.” He called over his shoulder.
You felt scorched and frozen as he walked away as if he didn’t have two large stains on his jeans. Your head spun almost painfully while you tried to grasp what had just happened.
“What the fuck…” you whispered shakily to yourself.
“Y/n? Y/n!”
You spun around to the sound of your name, and righted yourself just in time before Anett poked her head out from the back door, her brows pinched in worry, “You alright there, sugar?” she asked, looking around.
In your peripheral was a black van pulling away, and a very devious older man casting one last look your way; as soon as your vision cleared of the vehicle, you smiled easily and waved your hand like you had a juice story Anett just wouldn’t believe, “Oh yea, a delivery guy needed help, and asked if I’d give him a hand. Dumbass tried to feel me up so I gave him a pretty crooked nose.” You answered as steadily as you could as if your clit wasn’t still pulsing and your cum wasn’t sticking your thighs together.
Evidently it was sufficient enough of an answer for your manager, who rolled her eyes and nodded as if she knew exactly what you were talking about. As she began to go on about men and how unsafe the world was, your eyes glazed over; your mind was reeling at a mile a minute as it tried to process exactly what had happened in the alley between you and Albert. Certainly it was not the first time you had engaged in something akin to that, but what you hadn’t anticipated was…him. Albert Shaw. He was some kind of unpredictable piece of shrapnel that was wedged between your ribs; you could feel him with every breath even as you strode back onto the tile floor of the diner.
The feeling of his hands was embedded into your skin like a brand, and you couldn’t help but discreetly touch where his skin had met yours. How he had unabashedly ridden out his desire for you like you owed him. Albert didn’t hold back like the others did…and there was little for you to do but play every move over and over repeatedly in your mind. He had wanted you. Craved you. You flushed red and your breath caught in your throat when you thought that he might need you.
A question began to circulate in your head.
Do I need him?
You had never needed anyone before, and you truly didn’t know how to rationalize it.
Most of all you thought of how the world had seemed to simply melt away as soon as he had pressed you against that concrete wall; there had just been Al, and his thigh between your legs, warm breath on your cheeks, and his words in your ears…
Do I need him?
Yes. Yes I do.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
@dogmatic255 @ethanhoewke @honeycovered-bandaids @dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @theroadreader2 @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @ebiemidnightlibrarian @katehawke e @blep-bloop @ratpackash @al-shaw @darkvoidz @belladonnaaura @pecter-specter @samhainrain @turtle-boris
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steamberrystudio · 8 months
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27/08/2023
So now that Gilded Shadows is wrapping up, I am promoting When Stars Collide from "Spare time project" to "Part time project"
What is the difference? Well, when I work on something in my spare time, that means it is late at night or the weekend. Literally when I am not doing anything else and just feel like tinkering with it. 
As a part time project, this means that I will be spending an hour or two each day during the work week to do things for this project. It will start making more steady progress even if I'm not focusing on it full time.
This is basically taking it from me spending 0 - 4 hours on it a week to 8-10 hours on it a week. 
My goal is to have the draft complete before the end of the year (by 'draft', I mean 'rough draft'). But more on that below.
Summary
Finished all scenes for the new chapter three
Finished Yren chapter 6 scenes
Started catching Kav's route up to the others
Edited Asher's CG to account for the new conference room BG
Small adjustments to Wil's first CG
Ramble
This week my big focus for WSC has been on writing. As I mentioned, I really want to get the rough draft completed by the end of the year. Currently the draft is nearly 70% complete (for those following updates in multiple places, when you see different percentages....it's because I've written more since then. Rofl).
Now, the draft was nearly 70% in the past as well but I added another route since then, so I lost some progress due to the increase in target word count. I'm also calculating things more precisely now as I created a newer and fancier writing spreadsheet to track my progress and keep myself on track.
I went back and wrote in the new chapter 3, reorganising all the existing chapters and scenes to accommodate it. 
I finished Yren chapter 6 (which catches him up to Noel and Raif). 
And now I'm working on catching Kav, the new character, up to Yren, Noel, and Raif. (Remember, Daaz and Asher's routes are already fully drafted).
I have written about 15000 words since my last update here. I don't expect to write that much every week and my goal is actually a fair bit more modest than that. Gilded Shadows is not 100% complete yet. I still have multiple KS related things to finish and, of course, I will be making corrections and focusing on its beta testing once testers have had a bit more time with it. 
WSC is still a part time project. This was just a particularly good week for it.
I have also worked on a few other things for WSC - mostly UI related and some art related things.
I received a new BG since my last update, and realised that...I have to revamp all the existing CGs. Or at least update them to change the background elements. I've only edited one so far but I don't think it'll be too much effort to fix the others.
And I continue to streamline and adjust the UI to make it look nicer and be more efficient.
So...
Kav. The new character. Kav'isari Tiaine, a Ka'mérian crew member who works in the space labs most of the time and specialises in identifying alien technology (what species it belongs to and what it does).
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To explain where Kav came from, he actually popped into my head months ago. And every so often, I would contemplate whether or not I wanted to add him. I would say I first had the idea in January or February of this year. I would repeatedly think about it and dismiss it.
I then mentioned it to a friend sort of off-handedly back at the very beginning of June. A month and a half later, I mentioned him on a voice call on my server knowing full well that if I really talked about him and had a conversation about him, I would probably end up doing enough character brainstorming that he would become "real." And I talked about him anyway.
And that's exactly how he became an actual character. I think I had his sprite sketched out by the end of that day.
But he had existed as a concept long before that. The main reason I was willing to add him instead of ruthlessly telling myself no is just that I felt there was a gap in the cast for a gadfly style character who has a little mystery to him. And I just knew I could manage another route based on the length of Asher and Daaz's routes.
So...yeah. That is how Kav came into being. His introduction into the story has caused a few minor changes to standing lore or things in the prologue (just mentions of him, etc). But the changes to the currently public content of the game are pretty minor.
Kav won't actually appear in the game until Chapter 3. He gets mentioned a few times up to that point. There are some logistical considerations to his route but I have talked about those more on Patreon.
Speaking of Patreon, now that WSC is moved into "part time" status, I will be starting to slowly release some Patreon-exclusive lore posts for this game there. Like most games monetised through Patreon content, the lore posts will not be critical to having a full and complete game experience. Rather, it is going to be comprised of additional and extra lore content.
Some of the lore content released on Patreon will be in the game (such as character back stories) but Patrons will get to see it early and will get it presented in a different format.
Much of the content can be considered "extras" rather than necessary.
I will also be updating on the development progress weekly there (available to all patrons) rather than bi-weekly, and my updates there (going forward) will tend to be more detailed than the ones here.
Once episode releases start, Patrons will be able to access them before they the public releases. But backing on Patreon is not necessary to be able to play the game and get a full and complete game experience. It's just how this particular game will be monetised as I'm looking for more sustainable release styles so I can continue to make games.
That is all for this update. I will see you in a couple of weeks to talk about WSC again!
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cleolinda · 12 days
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Weekend links, April 14, 2024
My posts
Honestly, I spent much of the week coping with storm migraines. You can tell, because I was reblogging a lot from under a cold compress rather than doing anything useful with life. 
Reblogs of interest
The Hot Vintage Lady Polls are rough out there, y’all. Round three started closing yesterday (see what’s still open here), and as of this writing, we have lost Bette Davis, Alla Nazimova, Theda Bara, Myrna Loy, Barbra Streisand, Fay Wray, Lucille Ball, Ginger Rogers, and Olivia de Havilland--and it looks like Catherine Deneuve, Clara Bow, Lana Turner, and Mary Pickford are on their way out. Meanwhile, I learned about a ton of actresses I’d never heard of before, only to shriek when Sharmila Tagore, Nadira, and Waheeda Rehman lost this round. (Edwige, I will never forget you.) 
Let me remind you (and me sometimes, too): Not everyone has the same taste or childhood attachments or cinema experiences as you. And everybody in this bracket loses. Everybody but one. 
(I can tell I’m not cut out for brawling because I’m like, “I will be very sad to see Norma Shearer go, but Hazel Scott seems nice!”)
--
“Actually, Mr. Musk, I am an attorney. Do you know that?” Here’s the highlights of Mark Bankston, the man who brought down Alex Jones, coping with Elon Musk and Elon Musk’s Lawyer, who is not even licensed in Texas, for 100 pages of deposition. 
Hozier Watch 2024: “Too Sweet” has now charted higher in the UK than “Take Me to Church,” and it’s getting real close on the US charts. This is a song that didn’t even make last year’s album. I am endlessly fascinated. 
Happy Leland Melvin Day!
Happy Neil Banging Out the Tunes Day!
“Posting endless DNIs because we can’t (or don’t know we can) make spaces just for the people we do want to interact with” actually makes a lot of sense in this centralized social media hellscape. 
There is a 20k mg weed gummy and nobody needs that. “Forget meeting the Hat Man this is what turns you into the Hat Man. This is worse than that torture drug that makes you experience 600 billion years in a second. This is the secret to honest to god shifting.” 
One of the best uses of the Kate Beaton Poe comic I’ve ever seen
“Americanisms that tell you to check on your American” (they are all correct)
“Tuxedo Mask is the first example of being ‘Kenough’”
Just this once, I will allow this AI rendition of a “traditional Polish family” and their traditional Polish woodchuck. 
I am absolutely not saying there is anything wrong with being into tentacles; I’m just saying that Pyramid Head doesn’t even have them and thus is a pretty tame choice to complain about. 
Little Guy, a game
A cursèd chair called “Oops!”
Sparrow Tarot: Honestly, this is one of my favorite takes on the Hanged Man.
This dog is a biscuit and she is precious
Video
One of the things that’s so great about this Ilia Malinin free-skate program is, he makes it look so effortless that I would have never figured out on my own, without Tumblr’s commentary, that there’s a couple moves in here that no one in the world can do but him. Like, the very first jump and the announcers start screaming. 
A journey from fearing moths to raising them
A dude puts on a dress For the Meme and then discovers that he loves it (and then he styles it as a full outfit and it looks SO GOOD)
Watching this cat ride around on a roomba on a sped-up surveillance camera is self-care.
So is this (although it’s a bit strobe-y)
Bat type: hi doggy
Was the jello for the tuna salad lamb supposed to be lime?
The sacred texts
Holy Shit, Two Cakes
The origin of “Me, an intellectual”
#AllMyLifeIHadToFight
Personal tag of the week
Designer Roberto Cavalli, who passed away this week at age 83. I reblogged several fashion posts--I hadn’t even realized myself that he had designed Beyoncé’s famous yellow dress in Lemonade.
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asmallpinkfan3 · 1 year
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Nooo but I am curious what about death X fox reader, how would they be in a relationship and how do they act with one another?
Oooo
Death x fox reader
A/n so I may or may not have realized that I’ve lost interest for writing pib the last wish x reader, but to the other death asks in my inbox I will write them I promise. Writers burnout hit hard for the past couple of weeks and that’s why I’ve been slow on updating any new fanfic content. I love all of you who have sent me asks, liked, and commented on how much you all like them so I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not gonna be writing for pib the last wish for now. I’ve recently got into South Park and I might start writing for them only platonicly tho I just have to get the personality down.
Warnings:none
GN reader
See I feel like he wouldn’t mind because yk he’s a wolf that’s also death so he really has no room to judge.
He’s actually pretty chill about you being a fox, he also is kinda of happy that he gets to glomp you at times.
(If you don’t know what that is I have a whole oneshot on it on my masterlist)
He does like the pattern of your fur no matter what type of fox you are red fox,arctic fox, fennec fox, etc.
He actually likes that your smaller then him, like he gets to wrap his arms around you and just pull you into his warm embrace.
If you have a fluffy tail, please don’t be surprised if you feel his head laying on it at times.
Doesn’t mind when you wrap you tail with his tbh.
Since your smaller then his if your fighting with anyone he’ll just pick you up and throw you over his shoulders while your just like>:( “I wasn’t done”.
“Well now you are”. He just responds with a small chuckle.
He calls you “pequeno/pequena zorro” , I believe that’s how you say little fox in Spanish please correct me of wrong.
Cuddles with him are elite.
Genuinely protective over you but when he sees some other bigger animal looking at you with blood thirty eyes he gets super protective.
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neuroticbookworm · 10 months
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Step by Step Episode 10, A Retrospective Analysis
I have been a staunch supporter of the writing in this show (here and here), even when the pacing and editing have felt a little stilted in places. I have always maintained that the show understands its characters and does an excellent job of connecting them to the audience via some brilliant writing. But episode 10 felt like it was from a completely different writing crew, and I was left feeling bereft and confused. I took some time to understand why, and I'm gonna share my observations in this post.
Disclaimer: I am actually okay with the place the plot is currently at. I think that it is logical that Jeng and Pat are having these problems from the outside world that are affecting their relationship. My friend and BL Ajahn @bengiyo pointed out in his rapid fire takes that Jeng is exhausted and just wants to ignore the shit that's happening around him and enjoy his time with Pat. @shortpplfedup echoes the same sentiment that JengPat are lost in each other and desperately ignoring the rest of the world. And I agree.
What I want to explore here is that while the episode did leave me at an agreeable point in the narrative, it left me there feeling incredibly unsatisfied (my bestie @lurkingshan talks about the lack of emotional catharsis here) and how very easy it would've been to course correct and preserve that audience-character connection.
The episode opens strong, with Chot telling Pat exactly why the way he is responding is hurtful to Jeng's feelings. "Saying that you don't believe him, it's like you were looking down on his feelings." Hits the nail right on the head. Pat then runs to Pearl & Oliver to meet Jeng on his birthday with *shudder* a carrot cake.
At the restaurant, Pat meets Jeng, and we hit the first snag. Pat asks Jeng if he still likes him, and when Jeng responds with a head nod, Pat breaks down. So Jeng makes his feelings clear one last time, and this makes Pat fire off question after question: "Why are you avoiding me?", "Why are you leaving the company?" and "Why can't I be the one who resigns?". Jeng takes a second to collect himself and answers "I'm not avoiding you" (a bald-faced lie, he is avoiding Pat because Pat told him to stay away), "I'm not leaving, I'm only changing positions" and "I started it, I should have to fix it myself".
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I'm typing out this exchange word for word because it shows where Jeng and Pat are emotionally at the moment. Jeng has already made moves to make himself scarce around Pat, and seems to be on the path to moving on after Pat's rejection. He also feels responsible for this mess, he is aware of the pain and confusion Pat was processing before his confession, and he has now added to it. Pat is visibly distressed that he has made matters worse by not articulating his thoughts better.
And now Pat says "But I also like you" and leans into Jeng's shoulder, crying, and Jeng takes a moment, smiles, and says "Now we're together". And this is where the show starts to lose me. Jeng desperately wants to be with Pat and is still pining over him, yes, but he has also made concrete decisions to step away from this situation, which takes deliberating on the effect the events of episode 8 have had on both him and Pat, and concluding that the right and healthy thing to do for the both of them is for him to step away.
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This is why I think Jeng would have uttered more than a "Now we're together" at that moment. He would've shown concern, or at the very least, he would've wanted to ask again, if Pat was sure. I hate an unnecessary "Are you sure?" moment that holds no weight as much as the next person, but here it would've made all the difference. Pat is sobbing, tears and snot running down his face, when he confesses to Jeng. Didn't the show go to painstaking lengths to show us the differences between Put and Jeng? I want to believe that the Jeng who was established for the last 9 episodes, even while nursing a broken heart, would've stopped and taken a moment to make sure that Pat is alright, he has thought this through, and this is not an impulse decision made on Jeng's birthday due to guilt.
An "Are you sure?" and a full body hug with both of them deep exhaling all their worries away for a moment, in each other's arms would've transformed the tone of this scene completely, and would've brought the characters in line with their established personalities, without compromising the direction the plot wants to take in the rest of this episode.
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According to popular consensus here on Tumblr, Jeng's arc in this episode seemed to be one where he is overwhelmed by the complications his relationship with Pat will bring, and that makes him want to disassociate and only focus on Pat and his desire for him. I would've happily taken this read, if they had shown Jeng TRYING in the beginning and THEN rapidly failing. We know (by implication) that his previous relationship played a role in his leaving the company before. So we saw him make very careful strides in the past episodes, and crossing boundaries when his brain is overwhelmed by desire (re: sharing a bed, filming Pat when he's drunk, the speakeasy).
When Pat rejects him, his mind gets clouded. He had been so focused on doing it right this time, and it has still gone wrong, somehow. And when Pat tells him to stop pursuing him, he now has to focus his energy on making it right and keeping the workplace comfortable for Pat. And finally, when Pat comes to confess his feelings, Jeng is mentally exhausted from the back and forth, yes, but he has no reason to feel it yet. There are no eyes on them yet, no judgements that need to be navigated. He must be elated, to have Pat reciprocate his feelings. So when Pat asks him "So from now on. what are we?" and Jeng doesn't loudly proclaim FAEN, it fells ..off. He just had sex with the person who was living in his mind, rent-free for a whole year, on a kitchen counter surrounded by glass walls; he has no reason to feel melancholia yet.
If we had been gradually let into Jeng's mental state, shown how the fear of judgement from the others AND his logical but tired brain overworking to figure out how to make this work, how to circumvent his past mistakes and failings, were getting to him, the episode would've hit a completely devastating emotional beat. And we could've watched Pat's regression in parallel, struggling with his newfound emotional stability in the workplace, because he couldn't help but notice how Jeng was choosing to ignore problems rather than deal with them.
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This gradual descent would've also explained Jeng's communication blackout with Pat. Had we gotten two scenes with them at the dinner table at home or a restaurant, one at the beginning of the relationship, with Jeng and Pat enjoying each other's company, and one near the end of the episode, with Jeng hazy and quiet? It would've sunk me to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
And I don't want the explanation that the new relationship haze is clouding their minds. I'm always on Team "Fuck Through Your Problems". Them going at it like rabbits was not the issue in this episode. The issue is that we did not get to see ANYTHING ELSE. We did not see the domesticity shine through when the relationship was new, and slowly tarnish as time passed. The message that queer relationships face undue pressure from society that may affect every couple, regardless of how well matched they are, could've been conveyed with such an amazing contrast, between PutPat and JengPat.
We could've screamed and squealed at the fluff and smut, at P'Jeng and Nong Pat, and weeped as the episode slowly tore our hearts open from our chests. We could've had it all, Tee Bundit. Instead, this is what you chose to give us.
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tagging my besties @waitmyturtles, and @lurkingshan who are in the trenches with me and @wen-kexing-apologist who wrote the post that gave me a lone ray of sunshine in all the madness
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pinkprimrose05 · 1 year
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SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED YUGIOH ARC-V
So yesterday I decided to start rewatching ARC-V (for the second time, at the behest of a friend who just got into the show), and, well... shit.
There is a hint of foreshadowing I missed, and it's in Episode fucking One to boot.
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Unfortunately, this hint is entirely lost in the English dub (edit: I stand corrected, it's still there, just not as explicitly obvious), and I can't seem to find any source for the Japanese dialogue of the episode (not that it'd help much, in the end; I can't read Japanese for shit and am mostly going off the romanization of structures I only barely understand). But why is this relevant here, you ask?
Well, allow me to explain.
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There are several ways of referring to oneself (or one's possessions) in Japanese. You're probably already familiar with first person pronouns 私 (Watashi), 僕 (Boku), and 俺 (Ore), all of which mean "I" in English, and each of which is used by different sorts of people in different sorts of situations.
In the context of ARC-V, Yuuya normally uses Ore when referring to himself, and Ore no for possessions. But being the expert performer he is, he puts on a faux-formal persona for Entertainment Duels, so in addition to giving extra flair to...literally everything he says, he switches to the more polite Watashi and Watashi no for a more, ah, charming impression.
(In comparison, Yuzu already uses Watashi, as it is also the most common pronoun for girls. Gongenzaka defaults to the "manly" Ore, and Sora uses the softer male pronoun Boku and its derivative).
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Now the kicker here is that, from the moment Yuuya acquires Pendulum until the end of his Duel with Ishijima, he uses none of the aforementioned pronoun sets. Instead, he switches to the first person pronoun 我 (Ware) and possessive pronoun 我が (Waga), which are now considered a stiff, archaic, and outdated way to refer to oneself, mainly used in fiction by characters with a strong sense of dramatic flair.
But Pink, isn't that basically Yuuya getting really into the entertainer persona?
... well yes, but actually no. I would have written this off as another flashy quirk of his, had it not occured to me that:
1) This is not a one-off occasion, and it only repeats in specific situations. I mean, we don't see this particular pronoun switch making another appearance until the tail end of Episode 39... when Yuuya goes into the Awakened state for the "first" time.
He doesn't talk much when he's like that (which, yeah, fair enough; I can't focus on talking and doing full combo at the same time either), but you may notice that his Pendulum summoning chant changes from "Appear now, my monsters!" (Arawareyo, ore no monsuta-tachi!) to "Come out, my monster servants!" (Ideyo, waga shimobe no monsuta-tachi yo!)
And guess what? The same happens in Episode 1, when he does the very first Pendulum summon.
2) The personal pronoun Ware is not only used by melodramatic characters, but also by those that view themselves as distant from, and/or superior to everyone else. Ancient spirits, magical entities, you get what I mean here...
And it sounds kinda familiar, doesn't it?
An egotistic crackhead with a strong superiority complex, who still strives for drama and entertainment despite his twisted ways. You know him. I know him. Everyone knows him.
He's been trying to hijack Christmas for six years now, after all.
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...God fucking dammit.
Yes, Zarc is the only character with enough theatre kid energy to use Ware as his default personal pronoun. And yes, Yuuya copies that aspect every time magical Pendulum fuckery is involved... which, admittedly, would not register as foreshadowing until you have context for what it's supposed to be foreshadowing in the first place.
.. And it still flew over my head entirely in the first rewatch. So much for a resident theorist, lmao.
Seriously though, I think this is pretty brilliant. Sure, it's a niche linguistic detail that requires prior knowledge of the ending to understand, but it hints towards a great mystery behind the origins of Pendulum summoning, which is very damn cool, if I do say so myself.
It's worth mentioning that I also watched Episode 2, which doubles down with the more obvious, but no less neat hint of placing Yuuya on the "antagonist" side of the Duel screen against Yuzu in their exhibition match thingy.
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See, this is why I love ARC-V so much. One of the greatest joys of watching this show is finding all the hidden puzzle pieces and going "Oh, so THAT'S what they meant when they did this!", and it never fails to amaze me every time.
This has been Volume 1 of Pink's ARC-V Highlights��, and I'll definitely be back with more... whenever I find another dumb tidbit to hyperfixate on.
'Till then, my Duelist friends!
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yankpop · 2 years
Text
Yandere NCT U: Reaction to you being on birth control (Make a wish unit)
All copyrights belong to @yankpop (aka me) so do not post/translate my works on any other platforms without my consent/knowledge.
Check more: Masterlist.
WARNINGS: Toxic/abusive relationships; birth control tampering; manipulation.
(Female reader)
AN: Luca's part is not truthful to the reality cause i have no idea how you can damage an arm implant, so i made it up. And Xiaojun's part is more like yandere comedy or something, but here it goes anyways. Hope you guys enjoy it 💖
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Taeyong
You let out a tired sigh, your arm around Taeyong’s shoulder as he keeps crying out with his head low, hiding his face from you. “I’m really not enough for you, am I? That’s why you don’t want to have my kids, isn't it?” His voice sounds so broken that you almost feel bad but  you readily remind yourself that you can’t afford to cave in. 
“Babe, we talked about this. I’m still in college and I need to complete it first. Afterwards we can think about it.” you lie, hoping he would believe in you. You can’t see it but Taeyong’s face shifts when you say those words, a scowl taking over his face.
He’s not even remotely crying but it was a nice touch to pretend like he was, thinking it would soften you up and make you cave into what he wants. But he knows that you’re spitting lies to his face, Taeyong knows all about your plans to start working after getting your degree and that kid’s topic is not gonna be at the table for many years but he wants them now. 
For starters, kids are a great way to stop you from attending college anymore and afterwards it’s not like you’re gonna be able to work when you have his kids to take care of.
Besides, Taeyong wants to have them so much, he wants to create small little babies with you, the love of his life. And he’s not gonna let your selfish life goals get in his way. 
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Doyoung
You frantically go through the contents of your medicine cabinet, searching for the small bottle of pills. Where had you placed them? Have you really lost them?
You curse at your bad luck and keep rummaging through every drawer in the bathroom cabinet, hoping to find your pills. Being so caught up with your intense search, you don’t even notice as your boyfriend comes to stand next to the door, leaning against it. 
“Lost something?” Doyoung casually asks, observing you with attentive eyes. “Yeah, my birth control pills. Do you know where they are, babe?” you reply, not even sparing him a glance as you keep trying to find them. 
“No, I haven't.” your boyfriend assures you, his face showing nothing but honesty. Because it is true, Doyoung has no clue where your precious pills are right now. His guess is that they’re somewhere around the sewerage system at the moment. Exactly where they belong. 
“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll just use a condom instead.” Doyoung declares, approaching your distressed figure and kissing you softly. He would use a condom, but one with tiny secret holes. You might not want kids right now but he certainly does and he’s not gonna let no one, not even you, get in his way. 
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Jaehyun
“What’s this shit?” Jaehyun’s harsh voice booms through the entire room, startling you from your comfortable position on the couch. He comes to stand in front of you, blocking the TV show you were watching for the past hour and throws something into your lap.
Looking down, you see it’s the bottle of your pills. Birth control pills, to be exact. Nothing surprising, you think, but the look on Jaehyun’s face proves the opposite. 
“What do you mean? It’s just my birth control.” you dismiss it, signaling your boyfriend to move away from the TV. Instead he huffs in anger, narrowing his eyes at your figure. “I thought we were gonna start trying for kids?” 
“No, you said that. I didn’t actually agreed with that.” you correct him, ignoring the way his fist clenched. Jaehyun turns away for a second, taking a very loud deep breath and then turns back at you.
“You’re not taking more of those and that’s final.” he declares with determination. You open your mouth to object against him but before you can, he cuts you off with a scary glance.
“You’re gonna carry my kid and that’s final! Actually, you’re not leaving this apartment until we get you pregnant.” 
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Lucas
A sharp pain on your arm suddenly wakes you up. You groggily open your eyes as the pain seems to worsen, noticing that it’s still night as the entire room is emerged in complete darkness. Luca’s arm is still around your waist just like when you went to sleep hours ago yet his breathing seems a bit uneven. Or maybe it was just you dreaming. 
You wait a few seconds but the pain only seems to worsen, exactly on the area where your birth control implant is. Odd, you think. It never happened to you before.
Carefully removing your boyfriend’s arm, you slid off the bed and head towards the bathroom, trying not to bump against the furniture along the way. Turning on the lights, you come closer to the body sized mirror and lift your sleeve.
Analyzing the arm skin, you notice it’s a bit sensitive when you touch it, but it looks completely normal except for some redness. You disregard any concerns about it, you had recently implanted the device so maybe it was only a slight reaction to it. After taking a painkiller, you head back to bed, immediately dozing off.
Meanwhile, Lucas smirks in the dark, wrapping his arm around you once again. It was easier to glitch the device than he thought, you slept through it thanks to the sleeping pills he had mixed on your nightly milk and now, if everything goes according to his plan, you’ll be having kids very soon, permanently connecting you to him for the rest of your life.
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Xiaojun
Xiaojun sneaks a furtive glance to the door, going through your personal drawer where you usually keep your birth control pills. Only problem is they’re not there. He was so sure the pills would be there, he’s seen you place them there.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” your voice causes Xiaojun to close his eyes for a second, annoyance spreading through his body. 
Turning around, he’s met with your figure casually standing by the entrance of the room, your arms crossed before your chest. Your face holds a cocky smirk, something that annoys Xiaojun up to no more. “Where are they?” he growls, squinting his eyes at you. 
You challengingly raise an eyebrow, still smirking at his failed attempt. “Not gonna tell you but you should improve your theft skills. At least, last time you waited for me to leave the apartment before trying to steal them.” you tease him, your voice full of evident irony. 
Xiaojun ignores you, closing the drawer and walking out but not before stopping for a moment and giving you a determined look. “One day, I am gonna steal your pills, just wait and watch. And then we’re gonna have lots of babies.” 
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Jaemin
4th July.
What’s gonna happen on that particular day?
Jaemin didn’t mean to pry on your personal calendar *lie* but once he saw the marked date with no extra information written below he was quite intrigued. Were you going to hang out with your friends without telling him? No, it couldn’t be. He made sure that your friends would never dare to call or even talk to you ever again, so not them. 
Maybe your family then? Also a definite no, Jaemin did an excellent job in manipulating you to think that none of your parent’s cared about you. It couldn’t also be a job related since he was the only one working since he convinced you to take some time away from your deplorable job, to which you had surprisingly agreed in a matter of days. 
Jaemin couldn’t quite figure out what was special about that specific date. He was sure that it wasn’t anything related to your couple anniversaries, cause he knows them all too well. So what could it be? 
Walking into the kitchen where you’re cooking dinner, Jaemin gives you a small smile as he sits on the table, pulling out his phone and pretending to do something with it. “I was thinking about us going on a date on the 4th of this month, what do you think, honey?” he casually asks, his eyes not moving away from the screen yet he’s impatiently waiting for your answer.
From the side of his eyes, he sees you looking at him. “Actually, I had a doctor’s appointment that day.”
So that’s what happening that day.
“Everything okay, honey? I should come with you to the doctor’s then.” Jaemin looks away from the phone, giving you a seemingly worried look. 
“No, it 's fine. It’s just to replace my IUD, nothing else.” you explain. Jaemin’s jaw clenches at this new information. He didn’t want to keep delaying his desire of building his family with you anymore, yet for now he chooses not to say anything.
Instead, he’s gonna be smart about it and pay the doctor to pretend to replace the device but making sure that you will be able to get pregnant. It’s easier than having to argue and convince you to finally have kids, something you claim wanting to wait a few years until so, but Jaemin doesn’t want to wait and this is the perfect opportunity.  
It looks like destiny wants it too. 
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Shotaro
“Why not?” the question makes you want to bury yourself, why is your boyfriend being so crazy about it? 
Taking a small deep breath, you try to keep yourself from lashing out at your sweet boyfriend. “Baby, we talked about this before. We’ve only been together for 6 months. It’s way too early to even think about kids.” you try to explain, avoiding looking at Shotaro’s face whose mood seems to drop instantly, his lips forming a sulky pout. 
He clingy grabs your hand, playing with your fingers, still trying to convince you. “But we’d be great parents! I just really want to have a family with you because you’re the one for me, you know?” his voice shakes as his teary eyes meet yours, almost making you feel bad for denying him that happiness. 
You pull him into a hug, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. “We will be a family, I promise, baby. Let me just finish college and we can start trying for babies, I promise.” you defeatedly cave in into his wishes, not being able to stand him being upset. 
Your words make Shotaro’s heart skip a beat, his head turning to you so fast it cracks. His face now replaced with shining joy as he happily beans. “Really?! Thank you so much, baby! I love you so so so much!!” He can’t believe that his whining actually worked but he’s glad it did, now all he has to do is wait and then you can finally have the family of your dreams. 
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Tags:
@mwitsmejk
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4younotafool · 4 months
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Love And Justice (Genshin Impact)
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This story is also available on different platforms;
Wattpad: NotAFool4You "Love and Justice"
Archive Of Our Own: NotAFool4You "Love And Justice"
genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, mistaken identity, crime, she fell first he fell harder, second chance
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Part Five
"I was really surprised when I received a legal announcement, you know!" 
Yanfei exclaimed as I sat on the other side of the table. She was still standing up, and looking a bit distressed.
She showed the letter she spoke of, It was a notice of her presence being needed and requested by the Court Of Fontaine to defend my case. Marissa's name was inserted instead of mine, however, I'm sure she would've realized it was me.
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I couldn't be bothered to take one of Fontaine's incompetent people, you see.
Yanfei sighed and took a sit and her head fell. The trial is yet to start but my lawyer acts as if we have already lost.
"I didn't want to come but I'm indebted to you so...."
"I know"
Yanfei is someone whom I have known in one of my travels in Liyue, we are not particularly close to the point of regarding each other as friends. But I had considerably been a great help to Yanfei. Now is the time for her to return the favor, whether she dislikes the law of Fontaine as much as I do or not.
On cue, Yanfei cleared her throat and took a wad of documented papers from her bag, and placed it on top of the table with a loud 'bang'. She's taking the case seriously now, I see.
"According to the charges pressed against you, or more precisely, your sister, she kidnapped a 7-year-old child named Elona. She held her for about half a year and demanded ransom in exchange for Elona's safety. The parents witnessed how your sister took their daughter away from them and have been continuously paying the amount needed every month for their daughter not to get sold off. Recently, they only got the courage to formally accuse her of the crime to the Court Of Fontaine."
"However, in reality. Instead of treating their one and only daughter with care and love, the parents abused Elona on a daily occurrence, may it be physical or verbal, and neglected her to rot in the streets alone. Which is where your sister had met her. Elona's parents are also part of an abduction and human trafficking group. They are responsible for the recent human disappearances in Fontaine and in other regions as well, they're targeting small villages and masking the vanishing as an attack from Teyvat's monsters. They might be using you as a scapegoat and cover for their crime."
Yanfei declared. It made me smile at how prepared she already is despite summoning her abruptly.
"Your case is also told to be related to the infamous 'Fontaine's missing children case' that has remained unsolved for about twenty years now."
"How did that happen?"
Yanfei shook her head to the side and crossed her arms.
"I'm not sure about that part. I didn't get much information. It was strictly confidential."
I nodded my head in understatement.
"It'll be tricky to get you out of here as soon as possible, to be honest"
"But not entirely impossible, correct?"
"Yeah. With actual alibi to prove you are not related to it at any point and necessary evidence I can get you out." Yanfei concluded but sighed. Again. For how many times has it been?"
"If information is our only issue, then you do not need to worry."
"How??? It's the most essential part! I can't defend you properly without it! It doesn't help if we rely on rumors or if we try to avoid them! It's unavoidable!"
"Settle down, Yanfei. I know someone who can fetch one for us."
Yanfei squinted her eyes. Bewildered with how calm I am being.
"You already have it planned out, don't you?"
"Of course." I smiled at her. "You'll be able to meet my informant outside and give you the imperative details you request."
"Yay! Then everything's solved already!"
Yanfei cheerfully rejoiced to the point of hopping around the room as she celebrated. After all, she wouldn't have to overwork or tire herself considering I have everything prepared and ordered. I only require a third person to oversee the case as my eyes and body are outside this fortress.
For a moment, Yanfei froze and looked back at me. I raised my brow at her.
"You're sure that your sister is innocent, right?"
That sounds offending, but I'll let it pass. "As innocent as a newborn child."
I have everything organized. I devised my plan during the ten-hour stay in the Fortress even way before I was arrested. All the verification and documentation to support Yanfei's defense is flawless. The phrases I would and should say against the honor, anything whatsoever the parents would accuse me of, is wholly prepared.
So, how did this happen? Why did Marissa do this?
"According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, Lady Marissa is — guilty."
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one-piece-aus · 2 years
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Whumptober Day 5
Brook x Reader
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"Brook... I'm getting cold," you whisper, pulling your jacket closer together.
"Here, take my coat," Brook offered, placing the garment around your shoulders. "I don't need it, after all, I am just a skeleton, yohohoho."
You laugh at his skull joke, it might have been annoying at other times, but you'll take the light heart laugh. Brook kept you in high spirits despite your situation, you only lasted this far thanks to him.
"Mmmmm, I feel warmer already," you told as you snuggled into his coat. "Any luck finding the exit to the cave?"
"No, I keep getting lost and have to go through the walls to come back." Brook shook his head.
"It would be easier if we didn't have actually walk through the tunnel to get out. Er, I guess I'm the only one doing the walking..." You glance down at Brook's broken leg.
It had broken when the two of you fell into the caves, yours were only bruised. You had been carrying him around and he has been using his spirit to find the correct path. You've avoided dangerous traps and animals that could've killed you. You two made a great team, yet time wasn't on your side.
"Let's get some sleep for now," you suggested and yawned. 
You push your back against the stone wall, trying to get cozy. You use Brook's coat as a blanket, though your eyes couldn't help but notice some holes. He must've not noticed the holes since the attire didn't exactly hug his bones. You sigh, knowing it won't provide much warmth for you but your eyes tear off the jacket when you notice Brook using your thighs as a pillow.
"Just getting comfortable, yoho," Brook sheepishly told you.
You break into a fond smile and pet his lash afro. "Just wake me up when you do alright."
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"I think that was the best sleep I ever had," Brook yawned and stretched his bone arms. 
He rubbed his nonexistent eyes, still waking up. He became puzzled when he felt something cold that wasn't made of stone. Glancing at the source, he noticed your hands were holding onto his, they were freezing. His eyes grazed over the rest of your form and saw you were shaking in your sleep, small clouds coming from your nose.
"[Y/N]!" Brook cried alarmed and started to shake you awake.
"Hm?" You stirred, fluttering your eyes open. You sat up and a wave of freeze glossed over you. Instantly you brought your knees up to your chest, shaking like a leaf. "Why- why is it so c-c-cold?"
"The night's wind must've blown into the cave last night," Brook theorized and tried to use his coat to cover you better, that's when he realized how useless it was. He felt your fingertips, they were beginning to discolour. This wasn't good. "Uh, here I'll warm you up with my own heat."
Brook wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You let him but still shivered in his arms. A realization cracked in Brook's mind and for the first time, he hated how he was just a skeleton. You look up at Brook, hearing sniffles, and saw him crying.
"What's- what's wrong Br-Brook?" you stutter with your chattering teeth. You place a hand on his cheek, trying to wipe away the tears.
"It's no use," Brook sobbed and cupped your cold hand in his. You felt the dryness of the bones and you felt them get colder as he held your hand. "I can't make you warmer. I have no heat to give to you. All I have are these useless bones that can't bring you any warmth. What kind of person can't bring warmth to the one they love?"
"Brook..." You slowly hugged the skeleton despite your shivering state. You rubbed his back, trying to reassure him.
"If only I had flesh. If only I were alive then I could provide you with the warmth you need," Brook cried on your shoulder. "I wish was human again."
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