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smusherina · 18 days

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yard work - chapter 7 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): i feel like the theme is pretty established by now, still homophobia. negative talk about weight. a brief segment about Mr George's A+ parenting. as in, he's bad at it.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 8

You accosted Cady Heron after Ms Norbury's calculus class. You took her by the purse strap and hauled her to the janitor's closet, ignoring all her indignant chirping.

You'd been stewing the whole class, glaring daggers at the back of her stupid orange hair.

"You've crossed a line." You said once the door shut behind you. She was cowering against the wall, looking like a cornered animal. "Those fucking Kälteen bars were too much."

"What? What're you talking about?" She tried to lie, to seem tough like the popular girl she was so desperately trying to be.

"I'm talking about the so-called weight loss bars you gave to Regina." You hissed, stepping closer so you loomed over her. You really wanted to get your point across. "It wasn't very hard to search up what they're really for. You don't mess with someone's body like that."

"She had it coming!" Cady finally relented, looking up at you defiantly. "She- she took Aaron from me and made out with him right in front of me all the time and then she just threw him away!" She yelled, hands clenched to fists and a red flush of rage blotching her freckled face. "All she does is spite me." She added with venom.

"Aaron isn't some trophy for either of you to own." You implored, trying to not react to her raised, aggressive tone. It would be mortifying to cry now. "I'm not saying she didn't do anything wrong, but Cady that's fucked up. You need to apologize."

"Why? Why in the world should I apologize to her? She hasn't apologized to anyone even though she's probably done something to everyone in this hellhole."

"Two wrongs don't make a right. I know that's cliche as hell, but what did you think you'd achieve?"

"We were trying to topple her. Make her lose her status. By making her gain weight, well, she'd get all ugly."

You shivered in repulsion. Regina had already sunken her claws deep into this girl.

"I... I honestly don't know what to say to you." Defeated, you said one last thing: "I'm out. I'm not taking part in your scheming anymore and I don't want to hear about it."

"It's not like you did anything!" Cady huffed.

"Exactly." You sighed. "I didn't do shit." She looked confused at that, but you didn't rightly care.

With that, you stepped out of the closet. This would probably be the only instance you'd step out of the closet, figuratively, in high school. A small victory, maybe.

"What were you doing in the janitor's closet?" You almost bumped into Regina.

Too stunned to hear her speak to you in public, you didn't get to answer before Cady stepped out as well. Her face was still flush and her clothes were a bit messy from you dragging her through the hall.

Regina's expression turned stormy. She seemed to coil back, tension rising in her body as she took stock of the state of you. You could do nothing but stare as she levelled Cady with a murderous look.

When she turned to you, you nearly flinched back. Not only was she angry, furious really, but you'd hurt her. It was clear in the way she was breathing hard and heavy, how she was shuddering the lightest bit, how her lips pinched together. When Regina was angry, only angry, she went cold. It wasn't like this. This was something worse.

"Reg," You tried to say something and went to touch her arm.

"Don't." Don't call me that. Don't touch me. She hissed, hurt turning to fear as she looked around you. People weren't staring, luckily you hadn't caused a scene, but there were always eyes on Regina.

You looked down at your shoes and, with great reluctance, walked away. It was considerably harder to keep from crying now.

Not feeling up to geography, you went to your usual spot. The number of cigarettes you smoked in a day was starting to get a little too much. You couldn't find it in yourself to care now.

Once you arrived behind the bleachers, you tossed your backpack onto the grass and sat on it. The ground was cold and getting colder by the day. Soon enough it'd snow.

What the fuck were you doing? You'd impulsively confronted Cady, angry for Regina's sake, but you hadn't been able to really say anything to her. You'd asked her what she was trying to achieve, and all the while you had no idea of what you wanted.

You wanted everything to be okay. That was vague. You wanted Regina to be not nice, but herself. She wasn't vindictive by nature. You wanted her to apologize, but couldn't open your fucking mouth and say that. You wanted Cady to stay the fuck away from her, same went for Janis and Damien.

You weren't so dumb as to expect you'd be able to convince anyone. You didn't have any weight in these people's lives. You barely existed. For Regina to change, something drastic needed to happen. Something like a fall from grace, you grudgingly admitted. It would change her, but it would also hurt her. You didn't want to do that. Maybe if her dad changed. Then again, even if he changed that wouldn't erase the past. Maybe Cady could move her somehow. Regina had taken her under her wing, after all, though for misguided reasons. Maybe there was something there.

(The pattern was hard to miss. Regina rounding up pretty girls around her. When you no longer measured up to her standards, she got Janis. Then she threw her away. Eventually, she found Karen and Gretchen. Now, Cady was next.)

You heard approaching footsteps and crossed your fingers, hoping it wasn't a teacher. Soon enough, Janis 'Imi'ike appeared before you in all her gothy glory.

"Gimme one." She demanded as she squatted down in front of you.

"That'll be fifty cents." You said back. There was only one person you'd share your pack with for free.

Janis tsked. "Fine." She reached into her pockets and after a bit of rifling handed you a coin. You pocketed it and offered the pack to her.

"Got a lighter?" She asked with the stick in her mouth. You tossed it to her. "Thanks."

You took the lighter back. She didn't say anything for a while. You could appreciate that, even if you didn't want to talk to her at all.

"So, you're out."

"Yup." You took a drag. "Espionage isn't for me."

"Even though you ruined all our plans?" You'd hoped they hadn't realized you were the mole, but you supposed that'd been naïve.

"Yeah. I'm not built for it." You looked at the slowly burning smoke between your fingers. "Y'know, you're not so different."

"What? Me and who?" She adjusted on her perch. The black eyeliner around her eyes made them look huge.

"Regina." She looked about ready to punch you. "What she did to you was evil, I know. It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?" She took an angry drag. It looked ridiculous. Sucking on the filter hard enough to scrunch her lips. You closed your eyes for a moment to not be so amused by it.

"You want revenge 'cause you were wronged. Regina, she..." You didn't want to sell her vulnerabilities to her mortal enemy, but you wanted to try and reach Janis. "She's been hurt too. It's not the same, exactly, but she's not doing this because she's rotten inside."

"You don't know shit," Janis snarled, cig nearly snapping in half in her tight grip. "You're just trying to sympathise-"

"Yes, I'm trying to sympathise with her, is that so wrong?" You interrupted her, frustrated she wasn't listening to you. Or maybe she was and just not liking what she heard. If that were the case, your words meant nothing and you were a fool for trying. Still, you kept going.

"This one time, Reg and I- I mean, Regina and I,-" You knew it was futile to hope Janis hadn't noticed your slip-up. "We were climbing the apple trees in their backyard. We had a great time, sitting up there and eating the small, sour apples, just being kids. When we got back, though, we ran into Mr George.

"Regina had on a white sundress. It was covered in grass stains and bits of tree bark. Mr George got so angry. He started yelling right in her ear, I don't even remember what he said. I was so afraid. Regina just stood there, staring at nothing. We were holding hands and she just went limp. It was as if she was used to it, like she knew exactly what to do.

"Then, he told her to get the dress to Mrs George immediately. And no dessert that day. As soon as we got away from him, I burst out crying. Poor Regina didn't know how to console me, so she just took me to her mom. She was sorting laundry in the mudroom, I think, and as soon as she saw us she just said: "Rick yelled?" Like it was so normal. Regina started crying then too."

You took a drag. "I can't stop you from seeking revenge. But I guess I'm asking you to. I'm asking the same of her. She doesn't need to take her revenge against the world, either."

Janis picked at her nailpolish. All black except for the ring finger, which was a shoddy rainbow. "If you think that sob story's gonna convince me, think again. So what, her dad yelled at her so it's okay for her to, hmm, let's go down the list, uhhh, belittle her supposed friends, degrade random passers-by, steal boyfriends like it's a hobby, breed eating disorders, and so on. Riddle me that."

"Where do you think Regina learned to treat others the way she does? Where did she learn that in order to be safe, she needed to be above everybody, that she needed to be in command at all times? Where did she learn that she needed to be mean to gain that authority? Not just mean, but vicious and cruel and fucking scathing." You raved, voice rising. "Riddle me that, Janis."

"Her daddy issues don't take away the choices she's made!"

"No, they don't, but they explain them. Doesn't intent make any difference to you?"

"You're seriously telling me she didn't intend to ruin my life when she told everybody in school that I was a lesbian?"

"I'm telling you she's a bad person, a flawed person, but redeemable. I'm not asking you to change your opinion, I'm asking you not to take this stupid revenge idea any further." You paused to take a breath. "Janis, I'm... I'm a lesbian too. She's not inherently bad."

"What?" Her voice was like a whisper.

"Yeah. I came out to her when we were, like, eleven." You'd known so early because you'd been crushing on your best friend. Wonder who that'd been. "Looking back on it now, I think she ditched me for you."

"And then she left me too, fucked me over, and moved on to her next victim." Janis looked shell-shocked. Did you really pass as straight so well? Or was her gaydar all wonky? "She- she didn't tell anybody?"

"No, I don't think so. I've never gotten any shit for it. Or, well, I have 'cuz I look pretty butch, but not like that."

Janis just looked at you, cigarette burning away. You took a pointed drag. She copied you.

"She's not homophobic. She just didn't like me." Janis said, mostly to herself it seemed. You couldn't tell what she was thinking or if this information had changed anything.

"Does that make it better or worse?"

"I don't know. It still hurts." You could understand that. "I need to talk to Damien about this."

"Don't spread any of this around." She looked at you sharply. "Obviously you're gonna tell him, I didn't mean that."

"Well. Good." She stood up and stretched her legs. "I'll think about your proposition." She said as she stumped the cig out with her boot.

You scoffed. "Bye." Proposition.

Her consideration would have to be enough for you. You stumped your own smoke as well. There was little time left to contemplate lighting a new one when yet another client came to your outdoor office. You could start charging visitors with the amount of people coming in and out of your alcove.

Regina stood above you, face still conveying not-good things, but the glassy surface of her eyes had disappeared.

"Move aside." She commanded. You shuffled off of your backpack obediently, planting your ass on the damp grass without complaint. Her pants were more expensive anyway.

"I was telling Cady she'd overstepped." You blurted before she could get a word out. "I'm sorry if it was, like, a bad move I just... I felt like I needed to say something."

"Yeah, well, that was stupid. You shouldn't have made it seem like you knew me." You winced sadly. "I don't need you to defend my honour. And you also totally ruined any leverage I had with that."

"I'm sorry." You kept your head down, looking intently at the grass.

"Hmm." She just hummed. You couldn't read her like you usually could, preoccupied with keeping yourself calm. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Confused by the sudden topic change, you looked at her. She was leaning her elbow on her knee, her temple on her fist. She had on a little smile, like she hadn't just shamed you. You should've probably been relieved. She wasn't mad. But you were still in it.

"Uh, I'm..." You shrugged, trying to regulate. "Dad isn't coming home, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay, you're coming to mine for Thanksgiving." She said so easily. "Mom will be thrilled."

"What? Thanksgiving at the Georges?"

"That sounds like a shitty TV show. Like Seinfeld."

"I'm serious, Regina." You swallowed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It'll be fine. If you act like you did the other night, everybody will be charmed." She grinned like that was an inside joke between you two. "Only my aunt and cousin, mom's side, are coming. I think you've met Riley. Aunt Josie is cool."

You were starting to feel sick. You knew her, at least thought you knew her, but her switching up how she treated you whenever she felt like it was getting tiring. What did she want from you? How were you supposed to act? Could you even ask without her getting mad or you embarrassing yourself?

You had conviction in that you liked her, wanted to protect her, and would be on her side, but was that enough? Did you have enough strength to sustain the rollercoaster that was Regina George? It felt as if there was no other option than to keep riding. You couldn't exactly jump off unless you were prepared for certain death.

"I've met Riley." Your tone must've been telling of how drained you were feeling. Regina tilted her head at you.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just tired." You didn't want to be around people for the rest of the day. You wished you could just go home, nap, and have Regina there. Your Reggie, a little bitchy but funny, the side of her she only seemed to show when you were in private.

"You could go home." Her suggestion was tempting.

"No, dad's gonna yell at me again if I skip any more classes." He'd already called you earlier that month. It hadn't been pleasant, to put it nicely. Fifteen minutes of him berating you over the phone felt like a split second compared to the hour-long rants he'd go on when he was home. So, it could've been worse.

"I'll come over to yours later." She stated rather than asked. Obviously, you had to say yes, however reluctantly. "We could go shopping, too."

"You'd take me shopping?" Now that was new. You couldn't help but be a little pleased by that.

"Grocery shopping."

Oh.

"Mom says it's best to get some of the ingredients for Thanksgiving early." Regina recounted, crossing her arms and leaning against the metal backing. Your backpack had her elevated so she was a little above you. A change in pace.

Even her lower chin looked good. Damn.

"This early, though?"

"You know her. She's neurotic."

"Maybe a little bit."

"So, you'll come?" Resigned, you nodded. "I'll come to yours and we'll go."

"Why aren't we taking your car?"

"It's too recognisable. Duh." Yeah. Of course. How could you forget? "We're going pretty late, too. Less foot traffic."

You hummed. It wasn't as if you could change society. Even if things were different with Regina, you still couldn't be seen getting too cosy with her. You could like her from a distance and that was that. You could be a good friend and that should've been plenty. Really, above anything, you wanted her to be happy. With or without you.

That thought grated on you. You didn't want to lose her. You weren't sure if your choices made it so that you already had.

Why did everything have to be so hard?

Notes: This was originally supposed to be the climax chapter, but it seems we're still climbing. Next chapter then! Look forward to it :)

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment that on this post :))

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #wlw #lesbian regina george #mean girls x reader #fic: yard work

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heartbeatbookclub · 2 months

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I was looking at a few posts about autism (as one does) and it just suddenly clicked into place a fundamental thing about Yuri's character that I'd been grasping at, but hadn't really been able to adequately identify. I still have a much longer and more thorough analysis going through a whole lot of my thoughts on Yuri's character and her experience of autism that i'm working on (of which this will likely be a component), but I thought I'd share this separately just to emphasize.

Post I saw which made this click for me was making fun of the fact that most media depicting impaired empathy in autistic characters explicitly depicts them with this unflappable confidence of never having been rejected by people they love. The crux of this is that in actual reality, autistic people almost always have that experience at some point, for some behavior, for reasons they don't really understand. "There is an invisible line where people will get sick of you, and you have no warning of when you're about to cross it." So frequently, autistic people attempt to ride a razor thin edge, walking on constant eggshells to desperately attempt to avoid crossing that line.

Very often autistic people will attempt to avoid doing anything at all which could be considered weird, or off-putting, and will try their absolute hardest to do things in a way that is acceptable to other people, sometimes to the point of outright suppressing their emotions, because they are afraid that they'll say something just wrong enough that the people they care about will push them away, and they don't understand WHY it happened, but they know it's THEIR fault. Sometimes masking is fighting to appear aloof all the time because you can't regulate your emotions in a way that is acceptable to other people.

And holy fucking Jesus, that fits the exact mold of what I've been trying to talk about with the particular way Yuri's anxieties manifest.

It really feels to me like Yuri has this constant fear of breaking the "rules" of socializing, despite not really understanding what those rules even are. She's constantly afraid of saying something wrong, when she doesn't even know what wrong would be, she's just sure everyone ELSE will know it when they hear it. I think a huge part of her social anxiety comes from her own understanding of herself as a very weird person who doesn't really get a lot of how to socialize, and it seems to me like she's probably dealt with her fair share of social rejection and isolation based on those traits. She then felt she had to take responsibility for those traits, probably because it's the one thing she can change, and she is the one common denominator in all of these bad situations (This is something which is pretty common, actually! "Everyone else can socialize just fine, and I have so much difficulty with it! I must just be broken in some way. I have to try super hard to be normal to make friends!")

I think a big part of why it's so apparent in the Literature Club is because she really thinks she's found a place where she can make friends in spite of all of her issues, so when she starts...being herself, and receives even the smallest HINT of pushback, she overcorrects and tries to rein all of herself in to fix her "mistake", because she really wants to make friends here, and doesn't want them to reject her as well.

She's had this experience of others pushing her away for being weird so often that, coupled with her acknowledged trouble for reading situations, when anybody responds poorly to something and she recognizes it, she immediately overcorrects out of fear of being an annoying burden to everyone around her, and that "correction" consists of suppressing herself into being "normal" (or at least "less weird"), because she believes nobody could actually like her just for being who she is. There's something wrong with her fundamentally, and to make friends, for people to like her and want to be around her, she has to "fix" herself.

it's just, like...

it's really hard for me to interpret Yuri's character that doesn't involve her being somewhere on the spectrum, bros. she's written with such delicately constructed autistic coding, despite the appearance of just being a hackneyed weird girl visual novel trope. she deserves the world.......

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venusandsaturnsrings · 1 year

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okay, venus, now imagine that puppytaru has a rival! let's just say it could be another puppy or a person.

ah, my hands shake so much when i think about how pathetic he can be when he's jealous. when you bring another man into your house, puppytaru is so furious :( his sweet little owner treated him so cruelly and his little heart broke into pieces. he just loves you so much and wants to be your only lover. :((

he wants to be the only one who loves you. the only one who protects you. and the only one who fucks you. why did you replace him with someone else? did he misbehave? he will do anything for you, you just say!! he will cook dinner, he will clean the house, he will fuck you so fucking good, but just don't let anyone else touch you :(((

he sees you hugging another man, and he beats his body against the kennel to get to him and tear him apart with his teeth. at this point you might think about how cute he is. he cries and whimpers, his pitiful meow coming from the kennel. he bares his teeth and claws trying to open this fucking kennel when he sees how a man touches you with his lips.

he only dreams of tearing a man to shreds and then fucking you next to that useless piece of meat. his cock is aching and all he wants now is to get rid of the pest as soon as possible and fuck you well. <3

///

mmhmhmmhm venus it's me again (<3 anon with breeding kink lmao. that sounds stupid. so you can call me cat anon) i have so much brain rot with puppy/fox taru. and i hope you don't mind it. because i love this protective jealous type so much omg i'm in love with it and i hope you understand why i'm so horny :(((

cat anon!! hehe that’s the cutest i love cats!! i have a cat her name is olive :3 but i’m also allergic to cats… i survive on pure love and spite!! she’s my baby :3

wehhhh jealous puptaru :(( no matter which childe i talk or think about, he always has a nasty jealous streak!! it’s in his overwhelmingly protective nature to keep you safe and away from anyone else but, especially from other men.

it takes him time to warm up to each of your friends, he’s always trying to figure out if they’re a threat or not, but this guy… is different. puptaru can tell he’s into you!! why else would he be touching you like that or kissing your cheek as a goodbye? he must be trying to take you away!! what an evil fella >:( you already have someone, a doggy who will do anything for you!! throw away that guy you don’t need him!!

try as you might, he’ll never take kindly to any sort of rival. he’s already declared you as his mate so he believes he’s well within his rights to try and tear this guy to bits. puptarus teeth are no joke!! if he got close enough, he could shred this guy in a couple of bites. keep him in his kennel and he’s growling and shouting to be let out, clawing at the grates desperately to just kill this man who thinks he can take you away. no amount of reassuring can quell his need to dispose of him. certainly don’t cheap out on his kennel if you want to keep him safe, puptaru is strong and can bust anything sloppily made open if he tries hard enough.

gets a raging boner thinking about breeding you next to a rivals corpse. it’s like… a posthumous ‘fuck you’ to whomsoever it is; a true mark of mutual ownership. lets be honest, he owns you just as much as you own him. only difference is he’s wearing a collar but sometimes he thinks about getting you one too. yknow, just to really drive the message home.

#cw: violence #cw: murder mention #puppytaru #puptaru #wehhh my little guy :((#he’s so violent and so cute :3 #c’mon let him at him!! he’ll get rid of the problem!!#cat anon my beloved <3 #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #chit chats

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foggyfanfic · 11 months

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Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: There was the tiniest twitch of an impish grin for a split second and Bruno thought she might say something flirty. His heart soared with hope and sank with dread. If she flirted with him now he would fall to pieces. There would be no recovery and it would be pure heaven.

CH1 Prev Next Master List

Chapter 23 Poetry in Motion

People sometimes assumed there was a simple, easy to understand language to Pepa’s weather control. She could see why they might think that, the sun shined when she was happy, lightning flashed when she was angry, and the wind blew when she was nervous. It all seemed very simple.

Of course, lightning also flashed if she was startled. Her boredom and focus both tended to banish any clouds she might find interesting from the sky, it got foggy when she was either embarrassed or feeling mischievous, and snow could mean any number of things.

And despite what people might think, the hardest weather condition to maintain was overcast. Not too sunny, not stormy, not too dark. Just a thin blanket of grey clouds.

But overcast was exactly what the crops of Encanto needed.

She’d had to maintain what felt like centuries of sunshine to help with the lingering flood waters, but now the plants needed some time to cool. No rain, not too much sun, just a bit of rest.

Pepa sat by the window, taking slow deep breaths, and read her book of riddles. Confusion was a good way to keep the thin layer of clouds steady, but she had to be careful, if she focused too hard or, dios forbid, had an epiphany, the clouds would scatter.

She needed a distraction, something to keep her mind from focusing on the frustrating riddle in the middle of page 46.

Pepa set the book aside and stood, keeping half her mind on the riddle as the other half focused on not bumping into anything as she paced around her room. When pacing started to become too meditative, she left her room and paced around Casita.

A candle.

The third son bought a candle at the market, the dim light was the only thing that could fill the empty room completely.

“Merda,” she cursed, as the clouds above the village began to thin.

Maybe Bruno could keep her confused. He could try to explain how the television would work to her again.

“Casita? Where’s Bruno? I need him to be weird at me,” she asked the house, then followed the clattering tiles to the bathroom. She raised her hand to knock on the door but froze when she noticed Bruno was already talking.

“-I think you’re beautiful very- very beautiful, I-I mean,” he was saying, “a-and we get along really well, and I was thinking, you know… maybe we could get along really well over dinner?”

Pepa shut her eyes and tried to think confusing thoughts, even as the sun tried desperately to break through the clouds. When that failed, she switched to thinking up mischief, figuring the fog would be better than the harsh sunlight her mood was trying to unleash on the world.

“Actually Bruno,” he continued, in a high voice that was apparently supposed to mimic Leandra, “I just decided that I hate you, and I don’t want to even be your friend anymore, and I will never eat dinner again. Just to spite you.”

“Understandable,” Bruno said, in his own voice, “sorry to bother you, I’ll just go die.”

Pepa put a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling out loud.

“I can do this, I can do this,” Bruno breathed, then his tone changed, his voice deepening as he tried to sound casual, “Oh, Reina, didn’t see you there I was just… um… going for a run! Sí! Because that’s a thing I do, a-and you seemed impressed the last time we talked about it, not, not that I run just to impress you, I do it because I like it. Anyways, um I… how would you like to come over on Friday and watch me struggle to string two words together? It’ll be great, there’ll be dinner, some rats, and I’ll do some new and interesting things to the Spanish language.”

“Oh Bruno,” he pretended to swoon, “I would love to watch you humiliate yourself! In fact, if you string a whole sentence together I’ll even kiss you!”

There was a pause, then he said, “That one might actually happen.”

“It might,” Pepa agreed, laughing when Bruno screamed. There was a crash then some sounds of struggle. The door flew open, revealing a red faced Bruno.

“Pepa?! How long have you been standing there?!”

“Long enough,” she shrugged, the fog thickening. She could be nice and tell Bruno that Leandra had been flirting with him for weeks, she could. But! She needed to make the village foggy, well overcast, but fog was the best she could manage right now.

Really, if you thought about it, it was her sacred duty to mess with her brother.

“Ay,” he put his head in his hands, “what’ll it cost me to keep this between us?”

“Hmmm,” she thought about her options, “well, we could open up negotiations to make this whole thing disappear, or…”

“Or?”

“Or, I could help you flirt with your Reina,” Pepa grinned, “lord knows you need it.”

He scowled, “I do not!”

She didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, shoulders drooping.

Pepa giggled, “No, no, listen, I have a plan.”

“Right, I’m sure you do, and is this plan to help me ask out Reina? Or is it to point and laugh while I suffer?”

“Oh that’s the beauty of it! It’s to do both,” she said brightly.

Bruno frowned at her, then turned back around, “I’m just going to keep practicing.”

“Go ahead,” she began walking away, “I’ll just get Juli to help me scheme.”

It was an empty threat. If Pepa got Julieta involved, little Señorita Perfect would just tell Bruno that Leandra was very openly into him, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Wait, wait, don’t do that,” Bruno caught her arm, “just…, just name your price, come on.”

“Messing with you is worth way more than anything you could offer me Brunito,” she said, honestly.

“Pepa,” he whined, “Por favor!”

“Nope! Your options are to either ask her out by Sunday evening, or…”

“Or?”

“Or I will ‘help’.”

Bruno groaned while Pepa walked away cackling. He leaned his head on Casita’s wall, wishing the house would just this once, listen when he asked to be swallowed whole. He asked, but wasn’t surprised when Casita shook a nearby shutter at him.

The shutter settled so it was pointing at the clock, showing Bruno that it was about lunch time.

He had had to give a couple visions this morning, not to mention do some chores, so he had promised Leandra he’d join her at the cheese stand around lunch. When he would hopefully get up the nerve to ask her out.

He stared morosely at the clock.

Realistically, he knew that Leandra probably wouldn’t hate him if he told her he wanted to go on a date with her, but it would change things, wouldn’t it? Suddenly she would realize that when they hugged, or even just touched hands, he felt things about it. She would probably look back on their interactions and notice how much he’d stared at her, notice how eager he always was to see her, be near her. Not only would it change the way she saw him going forward, it would color all of their previous interactions.

Would she start to wonder if he’d invited her back to his room so many times for ulterior motives? Had he invited her back to his tent for ulterior motives? He didn’t think he did, but there was no denying how much he liked being alone with her. How much he’d fantasized about having her in his bed.

His mind wandered back to Tuesday evening, when she’d inadvertently fed one of his most selfish fantasies by climbing into his bed and banishing his migraine.

Of course, the fantasy usually ended in tender love making instead of a panicked bathroom wank. Ugh. She had been so concerned about him, so ready to help, and he got off on it. Like a creep. Dios, he was still getting off on it, just thinking about her leaning over him, pouting in concern, did things to him.

Once he pictured it, his brain followed it up with a few fantasies she had yet to fulfill. He wanted to leave bite marks on her neck and have her leave a few in return. He wanted to make love to her under the stars, he wanted to pamper her until she was helplessly relaxed and happy to let him do whatever he wanted to her. He wanted to let her do whatever she wanted to him.

He groaned again. Did wanting these things make him a pervert, or was he pathetic because despite how much he wanted these things he’d be perfectly content to just sit beside her, not touching, just so he could be in her presence?

Casita moved the tiles under his feet so he was spurred towards the door. Bruno grumbled but took the hint. She would definitely get suspicious if he started avoiding her.

Worse, it would hurt her feelings.

Bruno spent the walk through the market psyching himself up to see her again. He needed to not be too weird, although he could probably play off a bit of weirdness as having seen a weird vision.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he needed to vent to her about how his morning went.

He started walking faster, he could do this, he could hold a normal conversation with her. Leandra wasn’t just the woman he was in love with, she was his friend, and there were a whole bunch of things he wanted to tell his friend. Like, he wanted to talk about the short story he’d read before bed last night, and the visions he’d had this morning, and the new recipe Julieta was experimenting with. Oh, and he wanted to ask her about the new hand cream she’d been working on, and how Rosalie was doing.

Bruno paused when he reached the cheese stall and saw Félix leaning on the counter. This in and of itself wasn’t that weird. Leandra was close with Félix’s younger brother, and the two had been spending more time together since they were both hanging around Casita more, of course Félix would stop by to talk to Leandra every now and then.

But the only other time Bruno had seen that look on Félix’s face was when he was ready to murder Cicero.

Bruno wrung his fingers, debating whether or not he should try to eavesdrop on what they were saying. On the one hand, it’d be wrong, on the other, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were planning something. Something they didn’t want anyone else to know about. Ultimately he shook his head, he told Leandra that he would talk to her the next time he wasn’t sure of her motives, he couldn’t go behind her back to spy on her now.

Félix looked up when he approached and smiled at him warmly, it diverted Leandra’s attention towards him and the way her face lit up when she saw him did funny things to Bruno’s stomach.

“Finally,” Leandra greeted him enthusiastically, “I was worried I was going to perish from a severe Bruno deficiency.”

Bruno chuckled nervously, and tried to say something in response, but the words came out a jumbled mess. Leandra looked briefly surprised, then worried.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- No. No, no, Everything is amazing. Well, not amazing, it- my morning was- ugh, I have had a weird morning,” Bruno finally managed to say, he trudged around to the stall’s entrance, then collapsed into his chair.

“What happened?” Félix asked.

“The second vision I had to do was a romantic vision,” Bruno wrinkled his nose, “I hate romantic visions.”

“Really? I thought you loved romance stories?” Leandra said.

“Why’s that?” Félix asked at the same time.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, i-if the only thing I was seeing was two people going on dates and getting married, it’d be fine, cute even,” Bruno lowered his voice, “but when I end up seeing two people I know um… share a uh- y’know c-consummate the relationship, it’s-it’s just- ay dios it’s so weird.”

“Ooh,” Leandra grimaced sympathetically, while Félix sucked his breath in through his teeth.

“Never considered that part of your gift,” he shook his head, “that’s uh… oof.”

Bruno made a noise of disgust and rolled his eyes, “Tell me about it.”

Leandra patted his shoulder and Bruno felt his cheeks warm up, “You have my condolences. I think if I had to deal with something that awkward I’d just… I would not, actually. I would tell them to piss off.”

“I do my best to discourage romantic visions, a-and honestly, most of the time I can steer the vision away from that sort of thing,” Bruno admitted, “but uh, this one was supposed to be about a birthday gift between friends, so I didn’t know to expect that.”

“Must be a damn good birthday gift,” Félix said, with a slight grin.

“Myeh, a hand embroidered shirt,” Bruno shrugged, “I’ll admit, it was really good craftsmanship. Or it will be. She uh wasn’t sure whether or not he would like it, so she wanted me to check. A-and he did. A lot.”

“Well, good for them, I guess,” Leandra had started rubbing his back, “you didn’t have to…? I mean, was she with you when you had this vision?”

“No! Thank god, no,” Bruno laughed in relief, shaking his head, “It wasn’t the end of the vision either, s-so the tablet wasn’t- it didn’t show… anything.”

“What was the end of the vision?”

“Uh, them holding their newborn baby,” he said.

Félix burst out laughing, “Sorry, sorry, just put yourself in her shoes. Imagine you’re trying to decide what to get your best friend for his birthday, so you go to the village seer and ask him if your friend would like a new shirt, and he comes back with a vision of you two holding a baby.”

Leandra giggled, “What’d you say? ‘The answer to your question is yes. Very yes.’?”

“Well, now I wish I said something witty,” Bruno chuckled a little, “I-I just told her the shirt was a very good idea.”

Félix and Leandra laughed harder at that, and soon Bruno found himself laughing too. He hadn’t thought about what the whole thing must have looked like from the young woman’s perspective, he’d been too caught up in the awkwardness of seeing two acquaintances have sex.

“What did- what did she say?” Félix asked through his laughter.

Bruno thought about the shocked look on the girl’s face when she saw the vision and had to wait a few seconds for his new bout of laughter to subside, “Oh- oh no, that poor girl, sh-she just… thanked me and walked away. I didn’t even think about- it didn’t even occur to me-. Oh dios.”

Eventually the laughter subsided into giggles, which settled into grins, Félix cleared his throat and hooked a thumb over his shoulder, “Well, as fun as this is, I gotta get back to the mill. Work to do and all that.”

“Sí, of course, it was nice talking to you, give Felipe my regards” Leandra said.

“I will, and Bruno, tell Pepa I’m looking forward to seeing her tonight,” Félix began backing away, giving them both a small wave.

“I will,” Bruno agreed, waving back.

Félix turned and walked away, leaving them alone in the stall. For a second, Bruno’s nerves started to creep back in, but thankfully Leandra cut them off at the pass.

“So, other than having to witness a gift being a little too successful, how was your morning?”

“Let’s see, the first vision was about donkeys, it was… slightly more interesting than watching the crops grow,” Bruno shrugged, then reached down to pet Leche, “then there was the second vision. Got some chores done, then Pepa caught me-.”

Bruno grimaced, biting his tongue at the last minute.

“Caught you?”

“D-doing something embarrassing, I uh- I don’t actually want to say what,” he crossed his fingers, hoping she wouldn’t push for more details.

“Let me guess, she now has blackmail material on you?” Leandra asked, ignoring her own curiosity in favor of being a good friend.

He sighed in relief, nodding, “Sí.”

“You have anything to defend yourself with?”

“No,” he groaned and collapsed back in his chair, “I-I even tried to bribe her into forgetting what she- into dropping it, but she said it’d be more fun to mess with me.”

“Aw,” she chuckled quietly, “that bad?”

“Sí.”

“Well, let me know if you need someplace to hide,” Leandra offered, “you’re always welcome at my place.”

Bruno smiled quietly, turning to look at her. She was watching people go by, apparently content to offer help, no questions asked. It was entirely possible he just fell a little bit more in love with her.

“Gracias, Reina,” he said, it came out a bit softer than he meant it to, and she turned towards him in surprise, he immediately averted his eyes.

“So, is the weirdness of your morning why you’re so jumpy right now?” she asked, “There’s nothing else wrong?”

“Sí,” he said immediately, then felt bad for lying, “well, I- probably.”

“Alright,” she nibbled on her lip for a second, “lo siento, I don’t mean to pry it’s just… the last time you wouldn’t meet my eyes it was because we were arguing.”

“Oh!” Bruno immediately turned to look at her, meeting her worried eyes, “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Not even remotely- no.”

She smiled softly, “Good.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Bruno could feel the color rising in his cheeks but refused to look away in case it gave her the wrong impression. The last thing he wanted was to make her think he was upset with her just because he wasn’t sure how to ask her out.

Thankfully, a customer approached the stall and drew her attention away. Without her eyes on him, he found it less stressful to stare at her, enjoyable even. Bruno took in all the little details of her face, the shape of her eyes, the curve of nose, the softness of her lips. She smiled politely as she exchanged cheese and a bit of soap for money, and Bruno did his best to memorize this specific smile. The customer walked away and Leandra settled back, licking her lips distractedly before reaching for a canteen. She tilted her head back as she drank, and Bruno eyed her throat.

Leandra put the canteen down and turned back to him, already starting to say something. She stopped though when Bruno let out a high, nervous chuckle, cheeks burning.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

He dropped his head into his hands, “Sí, sí, but I’d be even better if the Earth would kindly swallow me whole.”

“Exactly how bad was whatever Pepa caught you doing?”

“Almost as bad as whatever she’s planning to do about it, I’m sure,” he rubbed his eyes, then opened his fingers so he could glare at an imaginary Pepa, “I can feel her out there, somewhere, scheming. Planning my downfall.”

“And there’s nothing you can do to stop it?”

Bruno pressed his lips together behind his hands, eyeing her, “Um.”

“Um?”

“I-I could- well if I just- all I’d have to do is-,” he cleared his throat, “it’d be even worse. The thing I’d have to do to stop her. Let’s be honest, it- it would… there’s no way it would go well.”

“Hmm, anything I can do to help? Or is this the sort of thing non-siblings should just stay out of?”

The sound that came out of his mouth was something between a hysterical laugh, and the sound of him choking on his own tongue, “I-I’ll let you know.”

“Bien,” she said, slowly. He pulled his hood up so he could hide his face in his ruana, it made him feel better, a bit braver.

“S-so uh,” he searched for a change of subject, “w-what were you and Félix talking about before I arrived? Looked pretty serious.”

“Cicero, of course,” Leandra sighed, “Félix would very much like to strangle him, and I can’t blame him.”

“But he won't, right? Pepa would be devastated if Félix got banished,” Bruno checked, peeking around his hood at her.

“No, no he won’t,” Leandra reassured him, “but he will help us catch him.”

Bruno sighed, nodding slowly, “So um, I’m probably going to want to kill Cicero when I find out what he did, huh?”

Félix was generally a pretty easy going guy, honestly, Bruno couldn’t remember ever seeing him truly angry. If he was mad enough to kill, for this long, Cicero must be doing something absolutely despicable.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” she nodded.

“Right,” he took in a slow breath through his nose then let it out in a whoosh of air. He found himself already feeling a bit angry, just thinking about him being willing to hurt Pepa, he sort of dreaded finding out the actual details.

“What’re you thinking?” Leandra asked, after he didn’t say anything else for a while.

“Maybe-. I don’t-. You should stay away from him, Cicero I mean, if he’s that dangerous,” Bruno lowered the hood and gave her a serious look, “I-If you got hurt, if anything bad happened to you… nothing is worth that.”

“It’s my decision to make, Bruno,” she shook her head, “and I happen to think the safety of others is worth the risk I’m taking. Cicero is either going to spend the next few years hopping from victim to victim until he runs out of people to hurt, or he’s going to start targeting Rosalie and Julio directly. Something needs to be done, and I have an opportunity to do that something.”

“But-,” his mouth flapped as he tried to come up with an argument, “there has to be something we can do that doesn’t put you at risk?”

Leandra drummed her fingers in her lap, and he was relieved to see she was actually thinking about it, “I- we just need undeniable proof. Something that will convince more than half the village to banish him. That’s it. If there’s another way to get proof… can your visions…?”

Bruno shook his head sadly, “I can’t see possibilities, just certainties, and if I were to see somebody get hurt in a vision, I would stop it from happening in real life. If I can, a-and I could. Stop him, I mean. Stopping Cicero from hurting people would be as easy as showing the person he’s planning to hurt the vision of him doing so, so yeah. I’ve had some visions that show me preventing accidents, but that’s the closest I can get.”

“Hmm,” Leandra nodded thoughtfully, “your madré has been compiling all the circumstantial evidence, all we need is just… a vision of you stopping him from hurting somebody would be helpful, but we still need something solid, something that proves without a shadow of a doubt that it was him.”

“And you can’t think of any way to get it that doesn’t involve you stringing him along?” Bruno asked, somewhat desperately, “There has to be something. Maybe we could sneak into his house and look for clues?”

“Even if we get clues from his house, how would we prove we didn’t just buy them at the market and say we found them in his room?”

“Bein, ok, you’re right. But we could show people-.”

“Banishing somebody from the village requires a majority vote, we’d have to sneak a ridiculous amount of people into his house. And that would have to be after we’ve already confirmed that there is even evidence to find there in the first place, and we’d have to pray that he doesn’t throw said evidence out between us finding it and us showing it to the village,” she paused, “even then, he could just claim that we planted it.”

He scowled, “Well, then what’s your genius idea for proving he’s a danger to the village?”

Leandra looked at him, then looked away, nervously fiddling with her skirt. She licked her lips, started to say something, then swallowed thickly.

“Reina,” he said, slowly, “what are you planning?”

She sighed, “I am planning to have a bunch of witnesses around, that’s what I’m planning.”

“Witnesses? Witnesses to what?!”

“Bruno,” she pleaded.

“No, Reina, you’re not doing-, doing… whatever it is you’re planning. I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“I know,” she breathed, looking him in the eye, “that’s what I’m counting on.”

She held his gaze, evenly, and he found himself suddenly devoid of all thought. When all he did was stare at her, Leandra reached out and took Bruno’s hand.

“I trust you Bruno,” she gently stroked her thumb over his knuckles, drawing his hand into her lap, “I am going to do this, with or without your help, but I would feel safer with it. Por favor.”

Bruno gulped, not at all prepared for the intensity in her eyes, or the softness of her pleas. His first instinct was to do whatever she asked, but he swallowed that down and tried one more time to make her see reason, “You would feel safest if you weren’t putting yourself in danger.”

She frowned, shaking her head, “If he wants to hurt me, he will. He could break into my house while my Papá is out, he could drag me off the mountain path on my way home, he could follow me, shadow me, I can’t keep my guard up, can’t be with you, or Leche, all the time. If he’s really determined to hurt me, he will do so. And if his goal has ultimately been to punish Rosalie for rejecting him, it was only a matter of time before he decided to target me.”

As she spoke Bruno found his pulse was picking up speed. He opened his mouth, searching for something she could do, something he could do. Cicero wasn’t a genius, he wasn’t the strongest man in the village, he wasn’t an evil mastermind with armies at his command. He was just some guy. Surely stopping him couldn’t be that hard.

But she was right.

The only guaranteed way to protect her from Cicero was to get him out of Encanto, and the only way to get him out of Encanto was to vote him out, which would mean convincing more than half of the village to vote to banish the only heir to the only winemaker in town, which meant offering them solid proof, and it was almost impossible to get that proof.

“Julieta was right,” Bruno said, voice grim, “we should have just let Félix take care of it.”

Leandra snorted, shrugging in a way that indicated she didn’t disagree with his assessment, “I would like this to end with his pre-existing victims better off than they started.”

Bruno didn’t respond at first, it was all he could do to keep himself in his chair. He’d never felt quite this angry before, this went past wanting to punch Cicero in the face and straight to debating the merits of murder. But it wasn’t just anger, was it? He was angry that Cicero had tried to hurt Pepa, angry that he was planning to hurt Leandra, but he was also afraid that he would succeed and there’d be nothing Bruno could do to stop it.

A part of him wanted to find Cicero right now and just… get rid of him, if only to make this whole thing go away.

“Ugh,” he groaned, shaking his head, “alright, fine, but I’m walking you home from now on.”

She smiled, though it was small and muted, “Well, I certainly won’t complain about spending more time with you.”

Bruno’s stomach flipped, “Oh. G-good. I- whenever you want to spend time, sí. I mean! I enjoy spending time with you too.”

“That’s good, otherwise this ‘friendship’ would get very awkward.”

Bruno chuckled a bit nervously. She gave him another concerned look and he sighed, a part of him was tempted to flop over onto her lap so she could pet his hair and tell him how much she didn’t mind his awkwardness. He really had gotten so comfortable with her, hadn’t he?

Of course he had, that was a part of the appeal, he could be himself around her.

“I-I need a distraction, s-something that’ll make me stop thinking,” he admitted.

There was the tiniest twitch of an impish grin for a split second and Bruno thought she might say something flirty. His heart soared with hope and sank with dread. If she flirted with him now he would fall to pieces. There would be no recovery and it would be pure heaven.

But then the grin flattened, “I’m afraid I don’t have a book today, maybe you could get Leche to play?”

Leche snored loudly, and if Bruno didn’t know any better he’d say it sounded pointed.

“Or not,” Leandra said, then hummed in thought, “you wanna play a word game?”

“Sí, that works,” Bruno nodded, “like what?”

“The Question Game is easy enough,” she shrugged, “we pick a subject and try to hold a conversation, but can only ask eachother questions.”

“Bien, what do you want to talk about?”

“Um pet care? How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Bien. You start.”

Leandra dutifully kept him distracted for the rest of the day, completely unaware that she was distracting him from thoughts of herself. When the market shut down, Bruno walked her and Leche up the mountain, and happily accepted her invitation to come inside for some tea. They ended up reading her copy of Pride and Prejudice together and time got away from them. When a knock at the door interrupted Bruno mid-botched proposal, he looked up and was shocked to realize the sun was setting.

“Oh,” Leandra glanced at the clock, “that must be Rosalie.”

“Rosalie?”

“Sí, I’m watching Julio for her while she has dinner with Félix, Pepa, and,” she paused dramatically as she opened the door, then said in a sing-song voice, “Felipe!”

“Oh hush you,” Rosalie stepped over the threshold with little baby Julio in one arm and a bag under the other, “and Bruno is here, what an incredible surprise.”

Rosalie was giving Leandra a look that probably meant something, because Leandra shrugged, grinning cheekily, “He was just proposing to me.”

“What?!” Rosalie gasped, her whole face lighting up.

Bruno made a choked noise.

“Hm, sí, but sadly I will not be accepting, as he has insulted my station, my family, and my pride in the act of proposing,” Leandra sighed dramatically, putting a hand to her heart.

“What?” Rosalie frowned at him, looking thoroughly confused.

“I-I’m Mr. Darcy,” Bruno held up the copy of Pride and Prejudice.

“Oh,” Rosalie rolled her eyes with a fond smile, “of course.”

Leandra grinned and reached her arms out for Julio, “Anyways, gimme!”

“I’m surprised you’re so eager to spend time with him, after what he put you through yesterday,” she pressed a kiss to her son’s head, then handed him over, before placing the bag on the sofa.

“Bah, every nightmare diaper is just another step closer to me being declared the best Tia in the world,” she happily took Julio, who giggled in greeting, reaching out for her hair.

“If I tell you you’re already the best Tia in the world, will you stop changing his diapers for me?”

“Hmm, that depends, how fierce is the competition?”

“Well, you are competing with every other Tia in the world.”

“Fair point,” Leandra smiled down at Julio, “I guess I’m stuck on diaper duty, huh kid?”

Julio tugged on her hair and she grimaced, waiting patiently as Rosalie pulled his fingers from her curls. He was handed a stuffed lamb to play with instead and its leg immediately went in his mouth.

“The doctor says it’s okay to start giving him solids, so he can have some smashed carrot for dessert if he gets hungry,” Rosalie took the little jar of smashed carrots out of her bag and placed it in the ice box, “he went in his diaper right before we left, so you should be good for a while, and he has had plenty of play time today, so you shouldn’t have any trouble putting him down to bed. Will uh, will Bruno be helping you?”

There was that look again, that look that clearly meant something, but Bruno didn’t know what.

“Actually,” Leandra turned to him, “Bruno, would you do me a favor?”

“Claro, anything,” he said, automatically.

Leandra smiled warmly at him, “Will you make sure Rosalie gets there safe?”

“Oh,” Bruno looked at Rosalie, who was frowning at Leandra, “right. Sí, I can do that.”

“You don’t have to, I don’t want to be a burden,” Rosalie said, although it was unclear whether she was saying it to him or Leandra.

“No! No, you’re not- it’s not a problem, I-I need to get home for dinner anyways,” Bruno rushed to reassure her, “It’s on my way.”

Rosalie gave Leandra one more meaningful look, but eventually nodded, “Alright, gracias Señor.”

“Y-You can just call me Bruno.”

She smiled at him, “Gracias, Bruno.”

Bruno glanced at Leandra and found that she was beaming at the two of them, when their eyes met she stepped closer to him. He was caught off guard by how warm the look on her face was.

“Gracias Bruno,” she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, “I really do appreciate it.”

Bruno let out a high, nervous laugh, then grimaced at the sound, “I- whatever you- yep. H-Happy to help.”

Leandra smiled at him fondly while he made a fool of himself, seemingly perfectly content to let him ramble. Meanwhile, he could feel Rosalie watching him, when he chanced a peak her way, he found her smirking, eyes darting between him and Leandra.

“So, shall we go?” she asked, gesturing at the door.

“Uh-huh,” Bruno nodded, head bobbing like a boat in a storm. He turned to Leandra and gave her a nervous wave goodbye, not trusting himself to speak. She waved at him, then picked up Julio’s hand and gently waved it at Rosalie. Rosalie waved back, eyes shining with love for her son and best friend.

At first the walk down the mountain was shrouded in tense silence. Bruno had never been close to Rosalie, not even when she had briefly lived in Casita, and now he was intensely aware that her opinion of him could make or break any chance he might have with Leandra. He kept glancing at her and receiving a knowing look in return, which just served to make him even more nervous. What did she know?

“S-So?” he ventured, “How’s uh- how’s the whole weaving… thing going?”

“The weaving thing is going well,” she said, a quiet smile twitching at her lips, “how’s the whole Visions thing going? I’m told the moon landing is a must see.”

“Sí, yeah, we- it’s one of my favorite things to look at, and Reina seemed to like it,” Bruno fiddled with his ruana.

Rosalie made a faint humming noise, but otherwise didn’t respond. Soon, after a mere millenia of awkward agony, they were in the village, approaching Félix’s house. Rosalie paused in the street, watching Pepa and Félix flirt on the doorstep from a distance.

“Is- are you- is everything alrig-?”

“You know something Bruno?” she cut him off.

“Um, m-maybe?”

“I have found that the smoothest smiles hide the sharpest teeth,” Rosalie turned to look at him, “and your smile is rather rough around the edges.”

“Oh, uh gracias,” Bruno was pretty sure that was a compliment.

“I’ve also found that a single uncomfortable conversation can save you a ton of agony down the road,” Rosalie turned to him, “if you’re worried about my approval, don’t be. You should be worried about letting an opportunity for happiness pass you by.”

Bruno gulped, he opened his mouth expecting the usual jumbled mess, but all that came out was a quiet, “I am.”

Rosalie examined him for a second, then nodded, “Bien. Have a good evening Bruno, and thanks again for walking me here.”

“Of course, a-any time,” he said, but she was already walking away. Bruno stared after her, thoughts halfway up the mountain he’d just come down. She greeted Félix and Pepa and was invited inside, but only after she pointed him out to the other two. They waved at him, and he waved back, distractedly. He continued onward to Casita in a daze.

Félix, who had been about to invite Bruno to join them, watched him go then closed the door with a shrug, “Looks like he’s lost in thought.”

“Mm-hm, thoughts about his Reina,” Pepa snickered.

“Oh?” Félix grinned, “Has he finally noticed she’s into him.”

“No, better. He’s agonizing over whether or not she’d agree to go on a date with him,” Pepa shook her head, laughing.

“Ay, dios mios,” Félix put a hand over his eyes, chuckling ruefully.

“That’s my hermano, oblivious.”

#Bruno Madrigal #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno encanto #Love and Fury

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thetarttfuldickhead · 5 months

Text

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

Everything was not all right. Bleary-eyed and with the beginnings of a headache brewing, Jamie slumped down on the bench by his cubby, ignoring the excited chatter of the dressing room and politely (he hoped) brushing off Dani’s attempt at getting his in-depth opinions on Dani’s new socks. (They were decent. Little bland, but the colours went nicely with Dani’s skin tone.)

Evidently, making nice with Coach Nate had not been enough to appease the universe, because Jamie had spent the better part of last night staring at his phone, trying to work up the courage to call his mum without any success, and now he’d spent the better part of training trying to figure out what the matter was, also without any success.

It was fucking weird. It shouldn’t have been hard, calling her. It wasn’t like they never talked or anything, he’d spoken to her just last month. But it was different now, somehow, when he knew he wouldn’t just be talking to her, but actually talking to her.

Fuck. He’d been so sure that saying sorry to Nate would do the trick.

More out of desperation than anything else, Jamie stuck his head into the head coaches’ office. Ted wasn’t around, but Coach Beard was sat by his desk, feet up on it and with a book in his hands.

”Do I need to apologise to you?” Jamie asked without preamble.

Beard looked up from his book, fixing Jamie with that unnerving stare of his. “What for?”

“I dunno.” He couldn’t actually remember ever speaking much to the man before, but maybe he’d managed to somehow wrong him anyway.

“Then I guess not.” Sounding supremely unimpressed, Beard returned to his book.

Well. Jamie made a face. It had been a long shot anyway.

He undressed; he showered; he changed. He agreed to a beer with Jeff and Arlo later that night. He wasn’t really in the mood, but he figured he still wasn’t in a position to turn down invitations. Wanted to show willing and all that. Besides, Jeff had always been easy company. Only one of the team that hadn’t thrown a fit about him coming back.

As he made his way to out of the building he passed by Keeley’s office, and paused. Keeley was by far the smartest person he knew, and dead good to talk to. She’d probably have some ideas about what he should do next.

Though the last time he’d gone to her for advice, she’d sent him off to Dr. Sharon and Dr. Sharon was home with the flu so that was no good.

He went into Keeley’s office anyway. She wasn’t there, but the room smelled like her, sweet and floral, and the familiar fragrance was both soothing and a little painful for the pang of longing it brought. He fucking missed her, in a way he hadn’t expected to when she dumped him. Back then he’d mostly been disappointed about not having the Keeley Jones for a girlfriend anymore and missing out on more of the frankly mindblowing sex, but the more time passed, the more he started to miss other things. How clever she was. Funny. Kind.

It was good, though, the way they could still be friends. He was pretty sure Keeley wasn’t the one he was needed to make things up to; he knew she wasn’t upset with him anymore, in spite of him not treating her as good as she had deserved. He hadn’t ever meant to hurt her, he just hadn’t thought.

In a fit of inspiration, he dug out his phone and after several seconds of careful consideration put together a quick text to Amy.

Sorry I was a prick on the show. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Hope you’re all right

Then, lest she get the wrong idea, he quickly added:

Not trying to get back together or anything.

Somewhat to his surprise, he received an answer in less than a minute:

i wouldn’t get back with you if you begged me to

i’m engaged to david now

you’re a poophead but i’m paying for the wedding with the money i made selling my story to the papers so we’re square

Jamie’s gut twisted at that. As much as he loved attention and as much as he hadn’t any qualms about getting naked and fucking around on the show, the idea of Amy crying about how he’d cheated on her and dishing out all the sorted details that hadn’t made it into the final cut made him queasy. At least it meant they were cool, though, so he sent a thumbs up and tried to put it out of his mind.

He didn’t put the phone away. He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on “Mummy”. Let his finger hover over it for a long time, but it was no good. Apparently texting Amy hadn’t helped either.

Fuck, he wished Keeley was here. Even if she couldn’t or wouldn’t help him with his problem just talking to her would have made him feel better. Always did.

His eyes fell on the a life-size cutout of Roy Keeley, in spite of her otherwise impeccable taste, kept by the wall, and his lips curled into a sneer. Odds were Keeley was over talking to him right now, maybe even curling up next to him and petting his hair, though what she saw in that decrepit wanker was a fucking mystery. Sure, Roy was fit, but anyone who’d spent more than two minutes in a room with the man knew he was a miserable old twat, and if there was one person Jamie wasn’t sorry about being a prick to it was—

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hang on. Wait a minute.

Oh. Fuck.

#i remain perplexed by the way jamie texts in the show #capital letters and punctuation and all #IT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE #but it is what it is #anyway #coach beard #fic #jamie's christmas carol #my stuff

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underpinksky · 7 months

Text

Today I would like to talk about something that has been really hard on my psyche lately and since I don't have money for therapy, throwing it into this hole seems best. So,

TW: body image issues, ED

Every since I was a kid I was slightly heavier. Never obese but chubby. (Right not I am 27 and finally waiting for my first endocrinology appointment to see if there is something wrong with my hormones).

I became obsessed with dieting very early on, before turning 10 i was memorising diets from my mother's magazines.

Mother has always been lean an never had to watch what she eats too much. (For example she has 2-3 desserts a day with no issues and no exercise routine). I am the exact opposite. For most pf my adulthood I ate 500 calories. During some years less (in my "i am fine now" year i upped to 700 hundred).

During the last year of my life, after batteling with chronic pain i upped to 1000kcal a day but many days i dont reach it, but unsurprisingly I have gained weight.

As i was growing up my mother encouraged my diet habits, happily bought be bottles of diet pills, offered to get me weight loss surgery (despite of us being lower middle class and being careful about money in every other aspect) and she would praise me at the hight of my Ed when I finally got close to being underweight, exercising 3-4 hours of day while eating under 200kcal.

When I ended up in mental hospital for a break down at the age of 17, she told the doctors not to worry about my eating habits because I have always eaten little (therefore I did not recieve Ed treatment).

So this is the background of me starting to see that my mother's intentions might have not been the best and being supportive mother should not extend to trying to make your child loose weight in these extremes.

For years I have been ashamed about something and never found the strength to tell someone.

When I weight about 55kg and thus was in the healthy weight range despite of still having some belly, I found out my mother was hiding junk food in her closet and she was sneaking it to my brother's lunches. My brother could also eat how much he wanted without having to worry about his weight.

When I saw her sneakingly showing chocolate bars into his backpack that I was forbidden to eat ever since I was little I wanted to cry with shame. I remembered how I overheard a conversation with her friend few months earlier who gave her this tip because her daughter was obese. "Better if they don't know the food is in the house."

I did not struggle with binging and had no interest in junk food since I struggle to finish a banana, thinking it has too much sugar.

But one time I snapped and binged the hidden sweets out of spite and ever since then I have convinced myself that she was right to do it because I was indeed problematic.

But now looking at it at 27 I feel a little bit sick knowing how she treated me and I a little angry that she never tried to get me an endo appointment or even talked to my doctor about me not being able to loose weight.

At my heaviest I kept being shamed by my family and my teachers and I was desperate. Nothing worked apart from not eating at all and even that barely did anything.

When I tried to bring it up she claims never to have done it and tried to gaslight me into "having a vivid dream about it".

I will not bring it up again because there ia no point but sometimes i get so angry that instead of bwing offered proper medical help, I was helped not to eat.

I love my mother and she has changed a lot during the last couple of years, but the damage has been done.

My appointment is in 3 weeks and i am extremely nervous since I was told before to juat "eat less and move more" by doctors. But I hope I will find out what is wrong with my body and i will finally get to do something about it.

Maybe I will get to be able to eat adult sized meals for the first time in my life, maybe I won't be so tired all the time and perhaps the pain will ease as well. But most importantly I hope I will finally get to hear that I am not the problem.

So wish me luck, because i am so so so nervous and have no one to talk to about all of this 💜🙏

#hormonal imbalance #ed recovery #weight issues #parental abuse #hormones #weight loss #endocrinology

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dollsonmain · 1 year

Text

I was dreaming, and while I was dreaming I realized I’d had that dream before.

It was some sort of IRL video game thing with a lot of combat and I wasn’t enjoying it because I don’t enjoy combat games.

Kind of like if it were a VR game and you hovered over the playing field while stuff was happening, except with your real body.

I’d managed to get control of a little robot and was pew pew-ing the monsters and other robots on the playing field.

I was aware that I was on easy mode, though, and I was doing ok in spite of having trouble with the controls.

At the same time (like literally at the same time) a different story line was happening in the hotel room I and some other women were staying in. One was trying to do a puzzle that used colored string but she couldn’t find one of the colors (#32). At the same time I was reeling a different color of string out of her butt like when a cat eats a string and you have to just pull it out carefully bit by bit. She was pretending that wasn’t happening.

I was looking at the little book the strings and needles were in and thinking “Wow that’s a mess no wonder she can’t find anything in there” and wanting to reorganize and reset the book while simultaneously wanting to wash the poopy string ASAP and also for some reason trying to paint the ceiling but getting frustrated because every brush stroke was the wrong color from the rest of the ceiling.

While I was shooting giant fungi I was talking to another player who was basically a clone of me, and telling her about how after getting to the boss arena there was a buffet and lots of nice foods and things and I’ve never made it to that point and never would on my own, but had watched others play this before.

And then somehow I made it. Easy mode.

So we go out toward the elevator, get on the smaller one, and it’s empty. The guy wheeling my little robot on a hand cart looked in and then went to a different elevator.

I was like “Oh, right, if you don’t see the judges on the elevator you’re on the wrong elevator. I guess since this is a multiplayer game, we’re taking the big elevator.”

When we got to the venue, there was the buffet and a snack I was VERY excited to get to. There were about 6 players all running around and I was telling my clone, “As long as no one steps on the battle field, we can spend as much time as we want here.” and desperately hoping none of the other players were in a rush to get started.

I picked up a snack, and while i was holding it one of the judges was like “oooh I want that....”

Took ONE bite.

I could TASTE it.

The alarm went off.

I was laying there like “I went through all of that, the stress, the fear, the things I didn’t want to do that were hard for me, got literally a small taste of my reward which wasn’t even the end of the struggle, and it’s whisked away by the universe.” All while having heavy, sharp pain in my upper back. I must have been really tensed up during the fighting parts of the dream, and also while fighting the adrenaline spike that I get when the alarm goes off.

And then That Guy grabbed my butt which he never does in the mornings and I was like.

No.

So, starting off my Wednesday kind of grumpy.

#dreams

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madtomedgar · 2 years

Text

Books read in August:

Do Not Say We Have Nothing, Madeleine Thien: Easily in my top 5 of the year, definitely one of my favorites now. She is a master of telling a story in a way that is fragmented and broken such that it conveys how the people, who cannot integrate this event or who cannot put themselves back into something the old them would recognize as “whole” experience or remember the story themselves. She is also devastatingly good at the whole. “your parents and/or grandparents lived through Historical Events which left them deeply scarred in specific ways that you don’t understand because they refuse to talk about it, so you just have to try your best to navigate this mine field.” I particularly love how she refuses the neat or comfortable ending, how she leaves things potentially forever unresolved and broken, because there is only so much you can do. The writing is devastatingly gorgeous. I also really liked how she handled two of her characters being gay. They love each other, and it never comes to anything because Historical Events are happening around them and they just never have room to figure out what that means, what it could look like, and it’s tragic and awful but in the way that so much of life is tragic and awful when you just don’t have the opportunity to live it because you have to keep going to your stupid job and surviving and that’s all there is room for. She handles the internal ideological struggles of her characters very seriously, which I don’t think I’ve seen in a story set in a communist regime before. The belief in their ideology and in the party and the leadership is handled in a way that feels similar to how narratives typically treat “man vs god” ideological internal struggles. The true believers who are active participants in the Cultural Revolution are as human and as sympathetic as the characters they’re beating.

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro: This was a very good book and I didn’t enjoy it. It’s a very effective type of horror, where the narrator doesn’t see the horrific aspects of her life as anything other than normal, and resists to the end any realization of the cruelty and inhumanity of her situation. The banal positivity and shallowness of the narrator, however, drove me nuts. The character and her situation reminded me very strongly of the evangelical/southern baptist girls from extremely controlling (should be labled a cult but they’re technically mainstream christianity so they get a pass) congregations/families I grew up around, who had been so indoctrinated into the idea that their purpose in life was to get married and have babies, that even when they could identify that they didn’t want that, that they wanted something else, or when it was clear that this was going to put their health in serious jeaopardy, still viewed “getting married and having babies” like gravity. The idea that there were other options just couldn’t penetrate. It’s a really effective portrait of that sort of psyche, and works as an allegory for so many things, and deftly illustrates the way we all just accept the unacceptable in order to keep living our vapid little lives. And it also felt very British, in that I think a American author would have had at least one character try something desperate to escape their fate, even just to spite their fate. Having no one try to run away, or commit suicide, or ruin their organs on purpose by taking up smoking or drinking, was both part of the horror and took me out of it a bit. I wanted one of them to have a little of the underground man in them. So. Excellent book, but to me very frustrating and unenjoyable.

The Mother of All Questions, Rebecca Solnit: I have read others of her essay collections that I liked a lot better. This one didn’t age well. It’s very much about the resurgence of feminism between 2014 and early 2016, and it’s hard to read that kind of hope in 2022, post 2016-election, post metoo backlash, post Cosby acquittal, post Amber Heard trial. Several of the men she praises for being feminist allies in their public personas have since been revealed to be serial sexual predators, or just creeps and opportunists. As always her observations about societal misogyny are on point but it mostly served as a time-capsule to that particular progressive optimism of the late Obama years, that things were getting better, and yeah we had to keep working at it, but the tide was in our favor. And being on the other side of what’s happened since, it’s almost embarrassing to remember that that’s where so many of us were, and painful. Wish I’d read it when I first got it years ago and hadn’t put it off until it was mostly just “photos taken seconds before disaster” but for feminism in the 21st century.

#long post

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chronicallyfckd · 2 months

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I need advice on how to help my brother. For context both me and him went through extreme trauma growing up.

So a year or two ago I got medically recognized as having BPD. Because of this I started researching Cluster B personality disorders, and I kind of noticed how similar ASPD is to my brother, he was even diagnosed with Conduct Disorder around 10-13. I want to push him to seek help since it's very clearly affecting his life. Something I and our grandma (she's the only one who really believes what happened to us)

I'm trying to not go into detail because I don't want some random person to think he's a evil person. He's not. He just needs help. I have brought up the possibility with him, and he agrees with me, but how could I go about pushing him towards it? I know a lot of his behavior is due to trauma, and it gets worse and more self destructive. My family has basically accepting he will die if he doesn't change.

I don't think anything wrong with him, I just want to help him get help and I'm kind of desperate because of the condition he is in.

honestly, the best thing I can tell you is not to push him too hard because it can also backfire very easily and cause him to never want to seek help at all (you know how when people tell you to do a thing and it makes you wanna NOT do the thing out of spite almost (not really spite, usually, but something called demand avoidance)? yeah. can happen with that very quickly, too)

what you can do is be more adamant about it, while staying gentle (as in, not forcing him or making him feel a certain way with the way you may express yourself). depending on what drives your brother, maybe tell him how you feel watching him destroy himself like this and wanting for him to get better, to have a real chance at life that was first taken from him with the trauma. that he still has a chance if he takes it and puts in the effort for it. often times, it's needed to hear that there's still a chance at a life. an actual life. not just survival mode since what happened.

but also listen to what he has to say about it. I often find that listening to how people perceive their own situation gives you a better idea about how to help them better and push them in the right direction.

and remember that if somebody doesn't want help or believes they're far beyond help and feel completely hopeless about themselves, it's very hard to even get started, let alone for said help to do what it should. your brother needs to have the motivation to put in the work, too. if he only gets help eventually to make you happy or get you off his case, it won't really do anything.

I do think that the fact that he even acknowledges that ASPD might be what he has is a good thing, same with that he accepts the idea of needing help. it shows a willingness to understand why he's that way, what's happening to him, and how to look for help. it's always a good first step in the right direction. and if he proves to be more open to seeking help: something I do a lot for the people around me, who struggle with taking those steps, is searching for suitable therapists/psychatrists for them, bookmarking them, and so on. of course your brother would still have to actually contact them, but you can offer to help him do it. offer to make the call; even though he needs to talk. sometimes it's the aspect of even dialling the number and pushing the button that is the hardest to do. offer to help him write an email to them if they accept email introductions for first-time patients. just... offer to be there for him if you are able to do it. it can go a long way.

I'm really sorry to hear about both of your situations and how worried you're about your brother and that you're desperate to find help for him and push him into it. it's a stressful situation to be in and you have my deepest sympathy. I wish you both the best, and I really hope you'll be able to get your brother to seek the help he needs and deserves. he's definitely not evil and he's not beyond saving or hope. he has a chance at life. he's not doomed. neither are you. and I really hope things will start looking up for the both of you with time. <3

#i hope this was somewhat helpful for you Anon <3 #feel free to contact me via DM if you wanna talk about it some more or send another Ask whatever you're more comfortable with #good luck!#cora.talks #long post

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volatileimpulisivenightmare · 1 year

Text

That's pretty funny after 2 years of endlessly pleading set up another Facebook account

I finally decide, I might as well find out what it is they are so desperate for me to see, and it turned out to be nothing but the repetition of the same pointless nonsense

I'm really sorry kids,

I just don't respond to criticism or peer pressure

I have never cared

NEVER

About what anybody said

What they thought what they felt

They are absolutely welcome to it, but it's not going to influence how I see

Or how I feel

I don't need anybody's agreement approval acceptance understanding

Appreciation acknowledgment and even a couple words that don't start with A.

What I'm supposed to care some girl wasn't interested?

Yeah that's not going to happen

LOL

She was very obvious in what she was doing and what her intentions were

That wasn't hard to figure out at all

Why,

That took a little bit

I wouldn't feel compelled to walk back a single thing I said

I think she's a very unique individual

But your belief that her interest would be some kind of sore spot or concern ignores the fact that I told her and anybody who is listening

That she would be the last one

And I would find out what it was about and who started

Suicidal?

Over what exactly lol

when people behave excessively hostile and cruel

It's not difficult to figure out their intent is to bring you low

So I gave it to you, lol it's hilarious that you would buy into your own stupid crap and believe not only that I was suicidal but that I was desperately in love

She was my only lead

So I hit that drum day in Day out, and wouldn't you know?

Some guy I had to talk to you in 5 years pops up in her emails and social media accounts telling me

Come on buddy it's going to be okay lol

Oh I know

It's never not been okay

I just needed more Intel

Oh and you can suck the shit out of my ass regarding the idea any of your bitch ass mother fucking f*@t friends

Where ever in a position to judge or criticize me regarding anything

Let me get this straight? Me wanting to gang bang baby results in the consequence of one of you bitch motherfuckers doing that to me LOL

Well then let me reemphasize I want to gangbang her every night for the rest of her life now what bitch now a punk

Lol

Step up I dare anyone of you punk mother fuckers to step up I will beat the living shit out of you

I'll put you in a skirt sucking dick on Long Beach boulevard for my beer money lol

Things are going to progress a little bit faster now we got a rat willing to point the finger

And guess what it's no one not a single friend or family member of mine as you spent endless hours trying to suggest which was stupid to begin with because I know these people

And they all Adore me

Not only can you not duplicate their individuality you can't even substantiate a reason why any of them would be upset

Lol

In fact if it wasn't for Salem taking an active first hand rolls

I'm not sure I would have even noticed

I offered The narrative of my life story , for two reasons

Number one I had to keep the pressure constant, so I had to write about something

And two being needlessly hateful hostel includes easy to do to people that you don't know and have no connection with

So filling in all the blanks with relatable challenges and circumstances

Was a lesson that appeared to be needing to be taught

Because it is very easy to transgress random strangers who you know nothing about

But when you get to know people and their lives and their hardships and their struggles

Even people you don't like

It becomes a different matter

And you really should recognize the fact that there is no manipulation of the circumstance that's going to buy anybody any leniency

I know exactly who established the intent and it was never anything other than an effort to be hateful and spiteful

In the face of getting caught obviously being the coward that he is everything is going to suddenly become oh no no no it was just part of this wonderful effort to help you in some way bullshit story

But that's not at all what anybody did

And we got a rat, lol pointing the finger at the pedophile

And get this

Under no circumstances whatsoever do I let him slide

No matter what anybody says no matter what anybody does no matter what anybody thinks no matter what anybody pleads

He lied to my wife to break up our family in spite and jealousy

Then he insisted that my ex had molested my son based on his behavior, knowing that

Without some other explanation for his sudden personality change

That I would most likely repeat what he had said

Creating more friction between my son's mother and I

Then he asked me to look up adult clips on his laptop and shared the genres of his interest only to turn around and suggest that an algorithm

Embedded in a Google products apparently identified the searches coming from the laptop apps child predators

At the same time he repeatedly indicated in interest in having sex with 10 year old girls imagining where he honest and open that I would Express agreement or a similar interest

That never happened

But he leveled the allegation

Anyways

He called the police and reported a prowler as I left his home one evening

With the intention of having me arrested

And suggested I should take the child pornography images that he sent me to the police to report it and when I called the police they said not to do that that if I showed up with that kind of illegal media in my phone that I would be arrested for possession

Which was what was obviously hoped for

That along with being defrauded for almost $100,000 and two cars

There is fix to the situation.

He and all his friends are getting a dime upstate

No new place for anybody to be anything

Just a 10-year sentence after losing the civil case

Really

Truly and honestly don't care

Who else or why or what motivated it I only care

That someone who has been nothing but a burden since the day we met

Would imagine to get away with attacking me

After I cut him out of my life for the second time

No family member no friend no son no ex no group of friends nothing will enough to stop me from hammering this fool

No it was a lie

And it was none of his business

But I'm actually glad in the sense that we weren't very compatible but that's not why he did it you did it just to try and fuck me over

Hes either going to prison or into a coma

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coffeeshoptable · 2 years

Text

Love-30: A tennis origin story

Its 1998, a year many of you may not even remember or have been around for. Thats ok, this is just a timeline for me and you can walk down the path - Ill do my best to help you follow along. (Try to keep up, I move fast)

So, yeah, its 1998. Im sitting on the wood floor of my living room. My mom has decided she needs me to do anything besides sit in the living room. Sit outside, sit on the washer, sit under a bed, just get out of this living room. I ask if I can watch TV. Shes at her wits end, im driving her up the wall and Im STILL motionless. She agrees. We have exactly one TV in the house, a small 19 inch TV (at best) that I believe was advertised as color but its long since faded into something resembling a static black and white set. Its in my parents bedroom, and since that is NOT the living room that she is desperately trying to clean for company, she doesnt care if my brain rots today.

We dont have cable. I have an option of maybe 4 channels, all the way up to 6 if the antenna behaves (it wont) and down to 2 if it acts up (it will). When we used to say “theres nothing on TV” we actually meant it. I was just excited to watch ANYTHING so i turned the dial (yes, you heard me, it had an actual dial) and sat on the end of my parents bed, content. Channel 8 was news. Boring. Channel 12 is.... whats this? Tennis? Ive heard about this before, in passing. My mother HATES this thing. That means I must love it with all my heart and soul.

This seems important. Court is green. Lots of grass, lots of people wearing fancy white clothing. Someone is talking about the championship match about to happen. Theres an American playing! Hes probably the best, honestly, because I live in America right now and thats how Americans think. Thats how the people talking are acting too, so Im sure Im right. Pete Sampras is his name and to me he looks like a generic man. Im not so sure hes the best anymore, but he is apparently the main character of tennis so I need to figure this out quick. He is playing some man named Goran. Ive never heard that name before but it sounds really cool. Ivanisevic. How do you say that? Im going to learn because who else can say cool big words like that? Ive changed my mind, Goran is the best now. Im going to sound very fancy when I say his name to people. I hope he wins.

How long does this last? Ive been here for a pretty long time, but Im hooked. They are pretty fast and I dont know how theyre hitting the ball this hard back and forth. I think thats a point, but why did he get 15? Oh. Each point is worth 15 points because... wait now its 40? Is it always 40? Ok you have to get to 7 and I see Goran has done this. He is the winner? No? Oh they do it again. Hmm. Ok, well I hear the vacuum cleaner in the other room so I cant tell what theyre saying, but it seems theyre playing still. Now the Pete guy has 7. Can there be a tie like in football?

Im so lost. I have to keep watching. I need people to know that I am the king of knowing things about tennis. I am the smartest boy who has ever watched tennis, and I definitely understand the rules now. You have to get 7 and then it resta.... hold on. He just got 6 and thats it? THEY ARE STARTING OVER AGAIN? Ok, I see why my mom hates this. The last time she came in here to check on me because I was so quiet she said “the points dont make any sense at all” and I emphatically told her “YES THEY DO” and explained them to her. Im really good at knowing tennis. I will know tennis to spite her. I wanted to be in the living room. Youve done this to me.

Ok, it seems like this Pete guy is going to win. They just said he needs one set to win the championship. Bet it looks cool, I wonder if its a big belt like the wrestlers get or maybe like a trophy like my dad has with the little shooting man on it, but maybe with a tennis ball instead because thats what these guys use. Im going to imagine what this championship looks like now and completely miss the part where Goran (what a cool name) wins the set. Now, somehow, theyve both gotten 7 and both gotten 6, maybe they only need 5 now? How long does this last? Wheres the time limit? Im going to figure this out. Im the smartest.

Oh the crowd is really excited and that Pete guy seems really happy. He just got 6 again so hes doing well. Hold on, its over now? Aw man, the Pete guy won. Ill never forgive him as long as I live, because I am now the king of tennis and personally will see to it that Pete will never work in this town again. Im very upset so Im going to scream at the TV. I will not be quiet, mother, dont you understand a theft has happened here, in this very room? A theft of joy? This is the wrong ending. Lets see what Pete has to say for himself.

Oh, thats pretty nice. Maybe these guys are friends. Well, Pete isnt THAT bad I guess.That is the championship? Looks like its worth alot of money. Maybe one day Ill have that much money. Probably not, we only have one stupid TV and my dinner last night was a can of spaghetti. Thats not the kind of thing I can buy. Maybe if I save up my whole life and get $500 I can buy it. Theyre saying alot of things, I wonder how they decided these guys were the guys who played for this championship. It seems like Pete has done some good tennis things before so thats probably why hes here. Im going to ask every single stranger I know for the next four months why Goran got to be in this match.

Oh its over now. Hmm. I can go back into the living room and tell my mom all about how tennis is my favorite sport now. She will be so mad at me and that will be pretty funny. Im the biggest and best tennis fan and I will figure out how this point thing works if its the last thing I ever do. Adults will ask me about tennis for the rest of my life. Im so proud of how smart I am. My mom will ask me to be quiet for years after this.

Then tomorrow, I will watch THAT championship match too, and the day after, and the day after, and I’ll watch every championship match for the rest of my life!

And I did. Including 2001, when the guy with the coolest name ever, Goran Ivanisevic, raised the Wimbledon trophy. Wow, it probably wont ever get any cooler than this..... but Im going to watch and see, after all, Im the best tennis fan that has ever lived.

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wiw3 · 2 years

Text

Need

My life has been fluctuating about the concept of need for quite a soft while now, and I’ve just been taken by the motivation to write about it. In a sudden fit of pain and rage, my cheeks soaked with tears that my eyes aren’t really stopping producing no matter how hard I try. The amount of bloodshot that my eyes get when I cry has always worried me, a doctor says I’m fine, so I guess I’m fine.

Need isn’t something that I’m used to being met, having it met is feeling really selfish right now, and I’m taking time to care for myself. I know it’s needed. I can feel myself gaining momentum, psychologically. Healing is happening, we’re slowly getting rearing to go, baby! Start your engines! Only the engines never start. Ain’t got no gas in it. I’ve spoken to a mechanic, a mechanic says I’m fine, so I guess I’m fine.

But the drag is still there like any airspace at all on a high-school drafting project involving paper airplanes, in that nothing is standing in my way at all, except for my own futility for growth. I need to get on the right cycle, in a manner of speaking. Instead of sitting here cutting my fingers off and slowly running out the clock on the relationships I have, I need to find monologues that work, get my ass on a seat and start creating again, but a writer says I’m fine, so I guess I’m fine.

I love when fires get lit under me, because now I can create unhindered. I don’t recommend this as a work ethic, because it isn’t really one. It’s more escapism, if anything, but the thing fueling me now is missing my girlfriend... I suppose I’ll talk a bit more about it, but a girlfriend says I’m... Oh wait.

I wasn’t the greatest boyfriend, I didn’t meet every last one of her needs. The way people hear that is that I think she was needy, and she demanded too much. No no. Au contraire mon frère, I actually hate myself more after that relationship than less, which is what I thought I would get going into it.

I needed her, I am still desperately, hopelessly in love with her, and I so badly wanted a chance to try harder and improve. My crime was loving her too much, and as ostentatiously pretentious as that sounds, let me explain myself, as it’s warranted. I loved her too much in one direction. My poor brain is so smooth in the parts desperately requiring lumps when it comes to romance, but it whimpers like a dog, pawing at that gate, trying so bad to get in and wanting so badly to be understood romantically, because there’s blood flowing to that nerve. As difficult as it may be to believe for some, when the mood takes me, I have a romantic heart.

I called her cute too much. I was reductive, and I’m not saying that with any sort of spite. I admit to my crimes, that’s the tone, confessing my crimes, professing my love and trying to get it all on paper so that it stops bothering me, nagging at me, and making me cry like this. I lost her, and it’s like cutting my fingers off to write this because the wound is steaming. It’s been cauterized but it’s been done so by the blade that cut it.

Losing her love is the 1,000-degree knife vs. My heart.

And I have her carved in my synapses, engraved on my brain. When I was told after the most loving, history-packed month of my life, that none of it was real, I’ll admit, I had my Eternal Sunshine moment. I just wanted it all of her to be gone. Of just wishing that corrupted-love month of my life wasn’t feeling like a ball-and-chain of wasted time, wasted potential. If only I’d called her pretty more, or beautiful, more... Then she wouldn’t have missed her ex.

#irony #heartbreak #soft #softcore #rant #soft rant #hurt #pain #breakup #confession #tw #potentially triggering #girl troubles #alternative girl #alone #lonely #loneliness

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piecksz · 3 years

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prove it | (m)

pairings: modern!jean kirstein x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, mirror sex, penetrative sex, saliva, fingering, finger sucking, handjob, slight mentions of breeding, explicit language

words: 3k+

summary: your jealousy sparks a bitter argument between you and jean, but he shows in more ways than one, that you’re the only person he’s infatuated with.

a/n: as always, if you wanna fully immerse yourself in the smut hehe you can listen to the songs i looped incessantly while writing: girls need love too by summer walker and excitement by trippie redd and PARTYNEXTDOOR (you cannot tell me that jean wouldn’t listen to either he’s so sexy omg pls free me from my brainrot)

You gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up above your ankles to make sure the material didn’t get caught under the sharp heels of your shoes while you stormed into the house. Seething with outrage, you swung the front door shut behind you, savoring the few seconds of solitude you had before Jean trailed behind you clamorously.

“I already told you, and I’m telling you—again—I didn’t know she was going to be there!” Jean was insistent, his footfall demanding on your tail as he followed you into the kitchen. His fingers were carelessly twined in his hair, an overt demonstration of his stress.

You hastily tossed your purse onto the counter, paying no mind to the way it slid across the granite and almost toppled over its edge onto the floor. “Bullshit Jean. It was your fucking event, how did you not know she was gonna be there?” You spared him an irate glance, it was the first time you’d looked at him since the two of you left the venue.

The entire ride home, Jean had attempted to make conversation, asking you if you’d enjoyed yourself and trying to solicit your opinion on how he’d done coordinating his company’s milestone event. Following the successful closing of a large venture deal and the expansion of the corporation, his boss had entrusted him to organize a company soirée to celebrate, and if Jean’s event had managed to go off without a hitch, a possible promotion was in the cards for him. However, much to Jean’s confusion you were quiet in your responses, mainly giving one word answers and little praise.

After relentless prodding, you snapped, admitting you were irritated after seeing Jean talking to Mikasa, an old coworker and friend of his. You’d disappeared for only a moment to use the bathroom, but when you returned, the two were engrossed in what seemed like interesting chatter. Seeing the way Jean laughed after everything she said prompted the agitation in your lower stomach to boil up into your throat. Nothing was that funny.

“Maybe I overlooked her name on the guest list.” Jean’s fingers left his hair and wrapped around his tie, tugging to loosen it.

“Oh, you sure looked over her while you two were talking and laughing.” You stood on your toes to grab a mug from the cabinet before slamming its wooden door shut. “What was so funny? The fact that you used to fawn over her like an idiot?”

You shuffled back over to the sink, flipping the faucet and watching as the mug filled with water before bringing the cup to your lips to take a long drink. You sighed as the liquid quenched your dry throat, raw from yelling. You peered over the top of the mug at Jean, eyes following him as he made his way over to the selection of hard liquor against the kitchen wall.

“There you go. Name calling like a fucking child.” He poured himself a generous glass of booze, chuckling wryly and taking a sip.

You pulled the mug away from your mouth. “You—are so—,” you started, but your words disbanded into a loud and frustrated groan.

“I’m so what?” Jean swirled the auburn liquid around in his glass, pretending to look more interested in the way it moved than in the conversation you two were having.

“You don’t want me to finish that sentence, Jean. You really don’t.” You set your cup down loudly, so forcefully it might have shattered with just another ounce of force. “Stop acting like I’m overreacting. You know I’m not the jealous type, you fucking know that. I wouldn’t care, but you know you guys have history together.”

“Yeah, history means that it was in the past,” Jean retorted. “It was in the fucking past.”

You leaned forward on the counter, dipping your head low as if to question the validity of your boyfriend’s reply. “You’re telling me you’d be okay seeing me with an old flame?” You laughed humourlessly. “You complained for ten minutes after a waiter called me sweetheart.”

Jean took another long sip, then exhaled. “Because he clearly couldn’t tell the difference between horny and hospitality. Now you’re blaming me because you couldn’t see that?”

You nodded sardonically, a disbelieving smile shadowing on your lips while you reached behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. “And how’s that any different from this?”

“Mikasa never liked me back, what’s the problem? Did you just pick a topic out of a hat to bitch about?” Jean downed the rest of his alcohol, and then returned the short glass to the display. He wiped at his lips with his thumb and started back toward the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Jean.”

He let out a low chuckle while he rounded the length of the counter, sauntering in long strides until he was behind you with his large hands planted on the curve of your hips. He dipped his head, letting his mouth ghost by your ear. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re mad.” His palms began roaming, first gliding across your stomach before moving to your backside and cupping your ass in the curve of his hand. “Especially in that dress. You look really fucking good, baby.”

You barely cracked a smile. “Yeah?”

Jean’s low voice rumbled against your back. “Hell yeah.”

You turned around to face him, gazing up at him from behind sultry lids. “Then how about…,” you started, teasing him by fiddling around with the loose buttons on his shirt. “You sleep dreaming about all the things you wish you could do to me tonight. Because you’re not getting any.” Your seductive expression fell, and you pushed him backwards so you could slide out of the space between his body and the counter.

As you retired into your bedroom, you heard Jean’s weary voice echo from outside. “You’re cold.”

“Good,” you responded back resoundingly. “Maybe Mikasa’s free.”

“Maybe she is!” he retaliated, and although he wasn’t in front of you, you could nearly see the way he rolled his eyes at your spiteful jab.

You rolled your eyes back. “Shitforbrains.”

You removed your earrings, throwing them onto the dresser with your necklace before slipping out of your heels and stepping out of your dress. You struggled to make haste, trying to get ready for bed as quickly as you could before Jean entered the bedroom and had a chance to say anything that would incite another feud. Lazy and clad in your undergarments, you hauled yourself into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror lethargically while you brushed your teeth and removed your makeup with halfhearted effort.

“Do I need to prove it to you?”

You removed the cold wipe from your lids, opening your eyes and watching as Jean wandered into the bathroom. He continued walking until he met you at the sink, and he wrapped his long arms around your frame again.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into him until the space between your bodies waned. You gave him an unamused glare through your reflection in the mirror, and resumed rubbing away at your persistent eyeliner.

“Should I mark up that pretty neck of yours?” Jean nestled his face into the curve of your neck, pressing messy, carnal kisses along the side of your throat until his lips met the dip underneath your jawline. He lightly brushed over it, knowing it was your sweet spot. Every time he wanted to turn you into a frenzy of moans, that spot was the easiest way he knew how.

“Or maybe I should have you carry our child.” His hands were hot against your stomach, the soft pad of his finger drawing a delicate circle around your navel. You were glad it didn’t tickle enough to make you laugh.

“You’re pissing me off,” you said, simply.

Jean released a husky groan that vibrated against the hollow of your throat. “You’re turning me on.” He hummed. “You feel that?”

You did. Against your ass, you could feel the prominence of Jean’s hardened cock through his pants, digging eagerly into your backside, and he did nothing but continue to fuel his lust by rubbing his erection against you.

“You’re the only one that can get me hard like this,” he strained, grunting at the discomfort in his briefs.

“Look how pretty you are.” Jean took your chin in his hand and prompted you to look at yourself in the mirror. He hovered over your shoulder and looked on, like he was only spectating. “Do you think anyone compares to you?”

His eyebrows creased while amber eyes fixated on your skeptical face. After a lack of response, he jerked your chin, forcing your attention back to yourself. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Exactly. Good answer.” Jean’s thumb swept gently across your chin while he withdrew his hand.

Your timid eyes drifted over to him, observing as he slid two digits into his mouth, glazing them generously with saliva before lolling his tongue and pulling his fingers out. A thick string of spit lingered until his hand dipped and slid itself into your underwear.

You choked back a desperate cry once you felt Jean part your folds, using his wet fingers to pet the sensitive swell of your clit. Instinctively, you wrapped a sweaty, tremulous hand around his wrist, but it did nothing to quell his painfully tender ministrations.

“Jean,” you murmured. Your voice was breathy, just barely above a whisper while you gave in and rolled your hips against his hand. “Fuck, wait—Jean—”

“I love the way you say my name.” He placed his free hand on your breast. His fingers hooked onto the delicate fabric of your bra and tugged the material down, freeing your nipple. “Say it louder.”

“Jean,” you mewled loudly as he began flicking the hardening peak of your chest with a ginger touch. His movements were delicate and sensual, as though he wanted to kindle an impatient desire within you.

Jean’s fingers continued to rub slow, tortured circles into your clit and he eased into you every few seconds to make sure he was keeping his fingers slick. Once he heard your whimpers begin to ebb, he would stop and switch the direction of his motion, sending you into another flurry of moans and taking pleasure in the filthy-wet mess he was creating in your panties. “Louder.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes until the darkness of your eyelids melted into white heat. The familiar torrent of quivers shook your body, and the surface of your skin tingled with the onset of your orgasm. You dug your nails into Jean’s forearm, and in the haze of your high you forgot about all of your concerns.

“Jean!” You cried his name again, your wail echoing off of the bathroom walls while you writhed against his hold. You moved restlessly, looking for absolutely anything to cling to in an attempt to steady yourself until your climax subsided.

After you came to and regained your soundness, you scrutinized yourself in the mirror through misty tears, chagrined at how easily you’d submitted to him. You were situated limply in Jean’s arms, bottom lip swollen from persistent biting in your best efforts to veil how good he was truly making you feel, but from the sickeningly-smug simper on his face it was obvious that now Jean knew his fingers were more fruitful than an apology. Which meant this episode surely wouldn’t be the last of its kind.

He slotted his fingers into his mouth for the last time, sucking the silken coat of your arousal off of them before releasing them with a quiet pop, then Jean’s other hand crept up your neck until his thumb drove itself to part your closed lips, just wide enough so he could stick his lubricous fingers inside.

“Mhm,” he encouraged, nodding at the way you meekly looked to him for direction.

Jean’s fingers were warm and sloppy in your mouth as you sucked and he watched you intently, undoubtedly wishing that his cock could receive the same treatment. He sighed heavily as you wreathed your hot tongue around his knuckles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, pulling his digits from your jaws before his urge to stick them down your throat and watched as you gagged through tears became insatiable.

Jean worked one hand against his belt, unbuckling it skillfully before impatiently forgoing his buttons and tugging on his zipper instead. His breathing grew labored while you watched from the mirror as he shuffled behind you, and you canted yourself to the side to provide yourself with a clear view of Jean’s cock in the surface’s reflection.

His thick length pulsated, convulsing even without contact, and every time it did so, a fresh stream of precum dribbled from the swollen, red crown of his tip. With a light hand, Jean tapped his cock against the side of your thigh, prompting you to take him in your palm, and when you obeyed, it elicited a lengthy groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You weighed his hot and heavy cock in your hand before beginning to move slowly, flicking your wrist and evoking the jerking of Jean’s hips when you did. His head hung forward and loose strands of his neatly tucked hair billowed around his face while he watched as your hand worked against his throbbing heat.

Jean delivered another set of kisses to your neck, kissing along your jawline until he stopped at the corner of your mouth to take a brief second to acknowledge his own pleasure. “Shit,” he grunted, his fleshly pants now becoming uncontrollable. “Okay, that’s enough.”

You loosened your grip around Jean’s cock while he curled his fingers around the cloth of your thin underwear, pulling it down until he stopped midway past your thighs, then his large hand settled between your shoulder blades to bend you over.

His palm collided with the pert curve of your ass, delivering a mild spank, and then he ghosted his touch over the stinging pain, blithely enjoying the way you whimpered his name ever so quietly. Jean positioned himself at your dripping entrance, prodding the tight hole with his tip over and over again just to taunt you until you glowered uncomfortably at him through the mirror.

“Stop it,” you heaved, your longing now turning into an unbearable itch.

Normally, you knew Jean would have loved to tease you, disregarding your begging and instead working even harder to rouse you, but you could tell by the sweat that beaded around his hairline that he needed relief too. So Jean spared you, grip tightening on your hips, and he pushed himself into you with a husky and guttural moan that overwhelmed your delicate whines.

He wasted no time and began moving, gradually picking up his pace until he decided on a moderate speed, not too rough, but just forceful enough that your breasts jounced and your body lurched against the sink whenever he thrusted into you.

“I always tell you how good you feel, do you need to hear it again?” Jean murmured, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and whenever he pulled back to rock his hips forward again, it glistened with a new layer of your arousal. “Your pretty pussy always takes me so well.”

He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his hand on your shoulder, holding you in place while he fucked himself into you, over and over again. You tugged at Jean from deep inside your well, tightening your walls around his cock and causing his jaw to go slack with bliss.

“The way you fucking milk me, I could cum right now.” His balls slapped ceaselessly against your skin, and the sound of two sweaty bodies married together saturated the thick sex-tainted air. You struggled to watch yourself in the mirror, mouth wide open and eyes bloodshot from your tiredness and tears. Jean’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear and sent a ripple of goosebumps down the expanse of your back.

“I wish I could take a picture of you right now and keep it for later.” He panted into your ear. “You’re the only thing I can think of when I jerk off, it would be nice to have a visual.” When you said nothing he smiled, tugging at the softness of your lobe with his teeth. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

You could only give a weak and disoriented nod, and when you felt Jean’s cock twitch inside you, coupled with the way his muscles tensed underneath his skin, you knew he was close. You wrapped your hands around the arm curved about your waist and nodded at him again, cueing that you wanted to feel his release inside you.

Jean arched an eyebrow, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he made no efforts to slow his cadence. “Yeah, you’re gonna let me cum inside you?”

You nodded silently for a third time.

Jean delivered a few more generous jerks before the small of his back tightened and he came inside you, amply flooding your chafed walls with his hot seed until you overflowed, and the creamy, white liquid seeped past the girth of his cock and began dribbling down the inside of your thigh.

Jean pulled his now limp cock out, wiping his essence gently on your folds before pulling you into another doting embrace. His clinch was tight, warm cheeks pressed against each other while he looked at you in the mirror with complete and unadulterated adoration.

“I love you,” he affirmed before flipping you over in his arms to face him. He bent down to press a salty and clammy kiss to your mouth, his lips stalling for a few moments longer before he pulled away and then delivered another kiss to your forehead. “Alright, stupid?”

You bobbed your head briefly, now embarrassed at your earlier outburst. You sunk into Jean’s torso, head against his chest, and mumbled sheepishly. “I love you too.”

The two of you stood together, arms encircling each other until Jean carefully broke his caress and began tugging you in the direction of the shower.

“Come on baby.” He grinned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#jean kirstein smut #jean kirsten x reader #jean x reader #jean smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #jean kirstein au #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

Shut Me Up

A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3850 words

The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.

Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.

“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”

She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.

But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.

When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.

“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.

“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.

“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.

“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.

“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.

This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.

“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.

“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.

She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.

“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.

“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.

“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.

“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”

They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.

“Are you serious?” she whines.

“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.

She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.

She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.

“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.

“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.

This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.

When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.

“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.

“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”

He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.

“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.

“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.

“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.

She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.

His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.

Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.

“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”

She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.

“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.

This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.

“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.

“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.

He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.

“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.

“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.

“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.

“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”

His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.

“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.

“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.

“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.

“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.

“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.

“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.

She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.

“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.

The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.

“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.

“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.

“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.

He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.

“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.

“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.

“You didn’t beat me!” she protests

“Oh really, and how’s that?”

“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.

“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,

“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.

“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.

She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”

In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.

It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.

As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.

He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.

“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.

“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.

“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.

On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.

Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.

He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.

“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.

“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.

He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.

She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.

“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.

“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.

“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”

He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.

Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.

He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.

A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.

It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.

“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.

“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.

He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.

“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.

“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”

“If you fuck me maybe?”

With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.

“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.

Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.

“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.

He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.

They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.

It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”

He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.

“Now you know how to make me.”

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kkusuka · 3 years

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Have I told you I hate weak y/n’s that get pushed around by fangirls? No? Well, I hate them 😊

Let’s have Oikawa, Atsumu, Akaashi, Semi, and Terushima react to their normally calm gf, beat the dog shit out of a fangirl that tried to intimidate her for dating said men above. Reader just has a soft smile before cocking her fist back and boxing her shit before holding up the fangirl and looking to the rest like “You wanna end up like her? No? Then know your place~ ☺️”. Then she faces her bf with a sweet smile and says something affectionate like “I brought you lunch, dear. I made it just how you like it 😄” before kissing his cheek like she didn’t go Muhammad Ali on a bitch

Oikawa Tooru<3

Oikawa’s had more than a few less than pleasant experiences with women

Considering he’s always been surrounded by them, from his sister's friends in middle school and being swarmed by them in High school and college- having women around him was nothing new

And for the most part, they were all pleasant

Giving him little gifts and food- that he always gave to you- and just telling him how much they loved watching him play

All things he can deal with before talking to his favorite girl, you

Though, there have been instances of some bold woman who just never get the hint

Whether it be drunkenness or some weird dream of having Oikawa to herself or just blatant disregard of his relationship

And right now just happens to be one of those times- but now you got a firsthand view of the madness.

Whoever this was clearly didn't understand relationships or personal space for that matter

She had a hand on his chest and was just blubbering about how she would be the best wife for him and would make life so much easier- much more than you do for him- and that was just what you saw from the ten seconds you were in earshot

He would normally laugh it offend continue seeking out autographs but he seemed to be locked in an iron maiden

“I promise! Forget about your girlfriend, she’s useless anyways!” and finally a perfect chance to make yourself known

“Tooru, I have your lun-” you attempted to grab him away, him shooting a pleading look to save him before your wrist was snatched from his arm and tugged away and shoved to the side then pushing your body away from the two

“Back off bitch!”

Now, you were normally a pretty calm person, you knew how to deal with the women and you have been for years.

But you stand by the fact that it was never ok to put your hands on someone- no matter the situation.

But at that moment, you could care less about your silly reparations and breathing methods, that lady put a hand on you and pushed you

You could hear Tooru telling her to keep her hands off you but you just looked around and made sure that everyone saw what had happened, you don't need to be arrested anytime soon

Grabber her arm you detached her from your boyfriends and in the next second your fist was connecting with her face, watching her wither on the floor you turn to your boyfriend who’s now coming towards you

“As I was saying, I have your lunch.”

Atsumu Miya<3

Another guy who’s constantly surrounded by women

Although he is far less appreciative and nice to them, and he makes it a point to be abundantly clear that you are the only woman he will spend the rest of his life with

Something that wasn't too popular with a few specific fans

Every blue moon someone will find his phone number and blow it up with loving messages or try and get his address

The worst it’s been was someone finding his apartment number and thankfully being too far away to come by themselves but they did send some inappropriate images to his PO box and that led him to create an even thinker line between fans and himself

Thankful, the whole of them understood and respected his boundaries

Buuuuut there are always people who go the extra step

Like whoever this is crowding your boyfriend after a win against the Alders with a giant poster of him and a …. Thong

If you were the slightest more stoic you would have held in the laugh that started it all but it seems crazy is crazy no matter how you provoke them

That lady heard you laugh and the flood gates opened, in a split second her hand was on your cheek then she was on the floor holding what you could hope was a broken jaw

You didn't even realize you punched her until a shooting pain went up your wrist

Though before you had a chance to return to your lovely boyfriend, who was standing in the same spot shell shocked (and slightly turned on) hand grabbed your ankle the flung you to the ground

It was, for lack of a better term, a catfight

She was hitting you and you were hitting her and she was screaming random shit about how awful you were to her precious Atsumu- seriously this lady was insane

Nevertheless, security arrived, and let’s just say that you were in much better condition than she was, who knew you could fight so well?

Though you weren't allowed to come to the next game and had to apologize to the heads of the Volleyball association, Tsumu was proud of you and the internet was on your side- so it was kind of a win-win

Akaashi Keiji<3

He surprisingly doesn't have a swarm of fangirls around him

But it’s much much worse, you’d rather have a mob of girls around him than the four specific psychos that never leave the poor guy alone

Everywhere in school at least one of them is watching the two of you, in class, at lunch- no matter where you try and eat- you swear you even saw one at the boba show you pass on your walk home with him

The worst part?

He thinks it’s funny.

It is hilarious to him that you try so hard to keep them away full knowing he would never leave you for the likes of them. It’s just too cute how you puff up your cheeks and huff about them and honestly, it's a breath of fresh air considering how much everyone kisses up to him

Well- he likes it when they are at a distance

On the off chance they get close to him, it's a different story. They truly are intolerable, and they away try bad-mouthing you to him like it was supposed to mean something that they don't like you

And they only ever do it when you’re away- cowards they truly are. And since they’re always watching, as soon as you left to buy the two of you lunch, one of them was on him in an instant

She was annoying and all she could say was ho you were a ‘poison’ in his life and he had to leave you as soon as possible

He didn't even realize you were there until a hand grabbed the back of her uniform and flung her off him. And from the looks of it, falling on the ground really hurt

“I’m a poison? That’s all you could come up with?”

You didn't even have to say another word, she was already out of sight

Not missing a beat, you handed him his lunch and started talking about the latest episode of the volleyball anime you loved.

Semi Eita<3

First off- a total power couple

Not only are you willing to beat a bitch, but he’s also ready to hype you up while you do it

It’s not confirmed you have, but there are rumors that you fought more than a few girls who were less than pleasant. And it’s not like you do anything for rumor control, you just laugh and turn the other way

Still, even with the rumor mill running rampant, some girls still try and shoot their shot

But this girl has to be the boldest woman on planet earth

Not only was she flirting with an openly taken man, but she was flirting with him as he held his arm around your waist. She even looked at you as she spoke to him, the audacity of people these days

“You like music? That’s crazy, I do too!” you wanted her to shut the fuck up as soon as possible.

What pissed you off more was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was letting it happen to spite you.

What happened after this you blame solely on the alcohol the party was providing and not on the fact you wanted to clock this girl the moment you saw her

It was just that suddenly your drink was in her face

Then her drink was in her face, and she was running to the bathroom, maybe she should listen to rumors more often because you don't think strawberry daiquiri will come out of a white crop too so easily

Terushima Yuji<3

He’s an ass

But he’s your ass, somehow

He’s a manwhore and an attention-whore, mix that should have been shot before it could grow into something more

By now you're used to the girls slipping him their numbers and hitting him up on every social media site possible and you remain happy to say he doesn't respond- probably too busy dicking you down to care about any of them

Plus, less than 1% of them actually approach them in public, and they just happen to be the most insufferable people on the planet.

Desperation doesn't even describe it

Of that 1%, at least half of them try to touch him, running a hand on his arm, tugging at his clothes, maybe even a strand of his hair, all you can deal with because he knows what’ll happen if he even entertains their advances

But for some reason, the only thing that sets you off is when they mention the tongue piercing.

It invokes a rage unknown within you, the second the metal ball’s mentioned you see red. And he fucking loves it, you could be three prefectures over and the second the girl mentions it, you magically appear at his side like you’d been there the whole time

All of a sudden you’re all over him, disregarding this girls words as she tries to bring the conversation back to her, going as far as grabbing your shoulder, and since she touched you first- you had the green light

Your arm pulled back and your fist connected to her cheek

And like nothing ever happened you turned back to the blond

tags: @diamond-3 @rinsangel @heyheyitsne @angelalje @monisi @crystal-lilac @sadpotato10

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