#presumably way way way far off in the future | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 11 months

Note

BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.

Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.

Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.

7.15am

Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.

By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.

This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.

Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.

What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.

8.39 am

Fun fact!

When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.

Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.

Another fun fact!

If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.

What fun facts.

At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.

(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)

10.41am

Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.

Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.

11.20am

Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today. Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech. Let's see some quotes!

On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:

“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”

Fair, but also you are a government, George.

On Tories who attack the civil service:

“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right."

... right. But you just... Uh.

On Tory culture warriors:

“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”

Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.

1pm

Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.

But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.

Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

3.45pm

Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.

The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.

3.50pm

Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.

Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.

The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.

The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”

On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.

3.56pm

The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.

Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.

An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO

3.57pm

Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.

I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.

4.12pm

Good tweet alert!

5.08pm

Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.

He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?

Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).

Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.

Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.

An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.

Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals. His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.

(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.

Why were they offered at all, do you think?)

So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant. Like, actually. Genuinely.

Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.

5.44pm

The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:

Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden. He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".

Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office. At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.

Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened

Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew. Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.

Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:

What a sea of punchable faces.

7.58pm

But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:

Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?

The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.

Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.

This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.

8.02pm

Boris Johnson

QUITS

as an MP

The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.

He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!

"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".

Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.

(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”?? What are you planning, Big Dog?? I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)

8.41pm

Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.

11.43pm

And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:

Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.

Not a bad finish.

#asks #long post #politik #the adventures of big dog the clown

2K notes · View notes

paperultra · 5 months

Text

candy stripes.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5,048 words Warnings: Swearing, hospital setting [A/n: Soulmate AU. :)]

sortiger (adjective): delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular

Nobody else can see the string but you.

You wish you didn’t. It has no texture, no weight, so you can’t understand why it can’t be invisible too. But the string demands attention with every use of your hands, seizes your eye when you wash dishes in the morning and brush your teeth at night, a garish and bloody red that matches the stripes of your uniform.

You hate your string and you hate the color red.

Miss Xinyu, the old lady in Room 30, has one too. At least, that’s what she had told you when you gained the courage to mention yours one day, not knowing what it meant and how much you would come to dread it.

“It’s your red string of fate,” she had explained. “It connects you to the person who understands you more than anyone else in the world.”

In other words, your soulmate. Your one and only.

Miss Xinyu says you’re a lucky ducky, knowing what your future holds.

Her string goes into the ground now. You don’t think being reminded of a dead person whenever you look at your pinkie is very lucky.

The biggest reason why you hate the string so much, though, is because you’ve always had a problem doing what you’re supposed to unless you want to, which causes a lot of trouble for a nine-year-old girl. You already have trouble being nice to patients who are mean to you, so how can you love and wait for someone you’ve never met? It makes you feel icky.

Why can’t you choose? How come you have to have one at all?

Your only source of comfort is that your string is very, very thin and runs out of the hospital. That means your soulmate, whoever they are, is very, very far away. You’d very much like it to stay that way.

But it doesn’t.

—

Nurse Taoh wants you to watch the patients in Room 8 while he finishes his charts. You don’t really want to, if only because it’s Nurse Taoh asking – he likes to order you around more than Dr. Gu – but you don’t want to get into trouble again, so you go.

(… And okay, you are just a little bit curious about the new inpatients. You only know three things about them: one, they were brought in together last night while you were in your room poking holes into your paper instead of correcting it; two, they’re a man and a boy, presumably father and son; and three, everyone says it’s a miracle they’re still alive.)

(Then again, you’ve seen many miracles here.)

The unit is quiet as you walk down the hallway. Quiet, but not silent, as your polished shoes squeak like little mice against the floor and you whisper the room numbers as you pass by them. Two, four, six – eight.

You stop and knock, three sharp raps against the brown wood.

“Hello?” You open the door and poke your head in. “My name is –”

The squiggly-patterned curtain that often separates patients for privacy is drawn, and you clamp your mouth shut as you realize the patient closest to you is asleep.

Shutting the door silently, you creep closer to the foot of his bed. The man underneath the sheets lies quietly; he is little more than a skeleton, eyes sunken and bones sticking out underneath blistered skin. His beard is long and scraggly, but it pales in comparison to his mustache, each side braided and sticking out to the sides.

He looks angry, even though he’s sleeping. You hope he’s not the type to wake up and yell at you as you tiptoe past to check on the boy.

You pass the curtain, catch a glimpse of the bed sheets, and see –

Red.

Your feet root themselves in place, the room suddenly devoid of air.

You stare. Blink hard, twice. Look again. Then, trembling, you look down at your hand.

Your eyes trace the string around your own finger, following down to the dip of it that barely touches the ground and back up over the blankets until it ends in a red loop around the boy’s pinkie, tied off with a little bow.

Your stomach turns.

Stumbling forward, you make your way to the visitor’s chair in the corner. You slump down into it and stare straight ahead at the curtain, refusing to look at the boy’s face.

He continues to sleep.

You don’t want him to wake up.

—

The boy does not stir during your first meeting, but that small mercy is quickly eclipsed two days later by a single bowl of chicken broth.

The look on your face is sour as you walk down the hallway again, the broth splashing up against the lid with each step. Because most of the patients in the hospital you live in are elderly, the staff have somehow gotten it into their heads that you simply must spend time with the boy in Room 8 because he is your age and you need to socialize with other kids. You very much don’t want to. Not with him, at least.

Dr. Gu is just leaving the room when you arrive. She gives you a quick smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, and pats your head.

“So you heard that the boy woke up, huh?”

You grunt, looking away with a pout. “Can’t you give this to him, Dr. Gu?”

“Nope. I have to finish my rounds,” she says. “Go in and have a chat. His name is Sanji. You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Dr. Gu probably hears you, but she doesn’t scold you, merely patting your head one last time before you enter Room 8.

The dividing curtain is drawn this time. The window curtains are pulled back, too; it’s a somewhat cloudy day outside, but bright enough to sharpen the shadows on the walls and make the boy look even paler than you remember.

His eyes are closed as you approach. A sprout of hope that he might have fallen asleep again blooms in your chest – you’ll just leave the broth on the table, you think to yourself, and go about the rest of your day. Nobody said you had to watch him drink it.

You get about five feet away, already planning to drop some books off to the other rooms, when the boy’s nose suddenly twitches.

His eyes open to thin slits. Your hope shrivels like a weed in the desert as he speaks.

“What’s that?” His voice is quiet and raspy.

Your eyebrow twitches. “It’s just chicken broth,” you say tartly, setting the tray down on the overbed table and turning it around so that it’s over his lap. You take off the lid and steam bursts from the bowl.

The boy reaches up to rub his eyes. The red string dangles from his pinkie, and you quickly look away with a scowl.

“Who are you?” he asks, scooting back to sit up more as he gradually becomes more alert.

Reluctantly, you give him your name. “Will you need help with the soup?”

He shakes his head. His gaze latches onto the contents of his bowl, and he stops, transfixed.

You scramble to stop him as he suddenly grabs the bowl and attempts to gulp it all down in one go.

“Don’t do that! You’ll throw up!” Without thinking, you seize his hands and pry the bowl away from his mouth. A few drops of broth splash over the blankets and his gown, and your irritation grows. Now you’ll have to fix that. “Drink it slowly.”

“I haven’t eaten anything for weeks,” the boy complains. “What do you know?”

“I’ve been studying medicine since I was a little kid,” you retort. “So I know a lot.”

He frowns. “You are a little kid.”

“I’m nine years old!”

“No, I’m nine! You don’t look as old as me!”

There’s no way this … this brat is the same age as you! Fuming, you let go of the bowl and jab a finger at his face. “I am nine years old and I know more than you! You can’t drink the broth like that!”

You’re met with silence. The boy’s eyes are wider than saucers. Pride wells up inside you at your ability to shut him up.

But then he puts the bowl down and seizes your hand, and your pride gives way to horror as he folds down your index finger and lifts your pinkie – the pinkie with the red string wrapped around it.

He lifts his own pinkie, the rest of his fingers folded. Your jaw clenches when you see how the string has shortened to mere inches, bridging the space between his hand and yours.

“Holy shit,” the boy says. The largest grin spreads across his face, and it’s blinding and scary and you hate it, you hate it. “It’s you! You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?!”

“No,” you reply quickly, whipping your hand behind your back and backing away. “No, I’m not!”

“But you see the string too! I knew I’d meet you some day. How come you’re”— he pushes the table away, eagerly but just gentle enough so no more of the broth spills—“how come you’re hiding it behind your back?”

“I’m not your soulmate,” you bark, panic rising in your chest. “Don’t you ever say that!”

You only catch a glimpse of the hurt that flashes across the boy’s face before you turn around and dash out of the room.

Mrs. Hong finds you in the storage closet later, curled up behind the shelves of gauze and IV tubing. She coaxes you out with a promise of rice balls and no questions asked. You wish all the adults were more like her.

—

The next day, Miss Jaylee hoists you over her shoulder like a human sacrifice and brings you to Room 8.

“I don’t want to see him! You can’t make me!”

“He’s refusing treatment and food unless he sees you,” the woman answers briskly, each of her steps jostling you up and down. “You don’t want to be responsible if Sanji dies, do you?”

“I don’t care if he dies!”

Miss Jaylee clicks her tongue and walks faster.

You flail, feeling a little guilty for your cruel words but too proud to take them back. Sanji couldn’t have heard you, anyway, and nobody here is going to let him die no matter what he does or what you say.

You hear a door swing open. Miss Jaylee walks into Room 8 and turns around, and you lift your head, glaring at Sanji as his face lights up and his cheeks turn rosy.

“[Y/n]!”

Your own cheeks burn in embarrassment at the position you’re currently in. This, you only now realize, is way worse than walking into the room voluntarily.

“How come they’re carrying you? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Let them treat you,” you snap, arms limp and dangling. “And eat your stupid food or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay.” You nod, opening your mouth to speak again only for him to continue, “But only if I get to talk to you afterwards.”

What is he, a prince?! What makes it so easy for him to demand such things?

“That wasn’t what you told them,” you protest, squirming, but Miss Jaylee only tightens her arm around your waist.

(“Be nice,” she warns. You growl.)

“It’s important,” Sanji stresses, looking pointedly down at his hand and then back at you.

You bite down on your tongue as the red string glimmers in the light.

Dr. Gu and Nurse Taoh stare at you expectantly. Your neck is starting to ache from craning it, and there’s a feeling that you’ll never stand on your own two feet again unless you do what he wants.

“… Fine,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Only once you promise to stay does Miss Jaylee let you slide off her shoulder. You stand to the side, arms crossed impatiently as they take Sanji’s vitals and ask him some questions. He’s only half paying attention, head turning to look at you more than once, which you merely turn up your nose at.

“All right, we’ll leave you two to chat now,” Dr. Gu says. “If you need anything, just let [Y/n] know, okay?”

“Okay,” Sanji says.

With that, the three adults leave, and you and Sanji are left alone once more.

“I’m glad you came. They were starting to get mad at me,” he says, then cuts straight to the chase. “How come you don’t want to be my soulmate?”

“Because I don’t want a soulmate,” you immediately reply.

“But why? It’s nice, isn’t it? Being special to each other?”

“You can’t be special to me. We’re not even friends.”

For the second time, Sanji looks hurt.

“…We’re not?” he asks. You shake your head. “But … you brought me food.”

You’re befuddled. “Because Dr. Gu made me,” you say, trying to ignore the disappointment on his face. “Besides, I yelled at you yesterday. Friends don’t yell at each other.”

“I thought that you were maybe just really surprised …” His voice gets smaller and smaller. “Some people get mad when they’re just surprised …”

“I wasn’t surprised. I saw it when you were still asleep.”

“Oh,” Sanji mumbles. He looks down at the sheets, scratching at the wrinkle in the thin white fabric. “Okay.”

He says nothing more. You fidget, wondering if he’s pretending to look like he’s about to cry or if he really is trying not to. You’re not good with people who start crying.

You chew on your bottom lip. Sanji tucks his hand with the string on it underneath his bed sheets, his eyes disappearing behind his tangled hair, and fine, you feel kind of bad whether he’s tricking you or not.

“I’ll only be friends with you if you don’t talk about being soulmates,” you finally tell him begrudgingly. “Not ever, okay?”

His head shoots back up. “Really?!”

“Only if you don’t talk about it! I’m serious.” You huff at Sanji’s sudden change in mood and click your tongue. “If you stay sad you might not get better. Don’t get the wrong idea!”

He nods, grinning bigger than ever.

Oh, dear, you think as he promises that he’ll be a really, really good friend, you might have made a mistake.

—

By the fifth day, Zeff, the man who was brought in with Sanji, is awake.

You hear them arguing before you see them, pushing a cart of books for Sanji to browse through as per your agreement the day before. They’re loud, and Sanji calls the man an old shitbag right as you knock and push the door open.

“I’m here,” you announce, and the two quiet down to look at you. You give Zeff a polite smile. “Hello, sir. I’m [Y/n].”

“Hello, little miss,” Zeff says, his features softening from the angry expression he’d directed towards Sanji a moment before.

“Why are you being nice to her and not me?” Sanji pipes up from his side of the room, all puffed-out cheeks and petulantly crossed arms.

“Because she don’t make my ears ring with nonstop whining,” the man answers sharply. “Now get a book and read so I can finally have some peace and quiet.”

“You get a book and read,” Sanji grumbles.

“What was that, boy?”

You cut in before they start bickering all over again. “Do you want a book too, Mr. Zeff?”

Zeff’s gaze flicks over to you once more, and your shoulders tense. The man takes a deep, calming breath, and then he sighs, reclining back into his pillow and closing his eyes. “No, thank you, little miss,” he mutters. “Reading’s no good for my head right now.”

“Do you have a headache?” He grunts in affirmation. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

“No, no, don’t need any of that.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a headache,” Sanji accuses.

Zeff’s mustache twitches. “All you need to know is that you oughta stop yappin’ when a man wants peace and quiet!”

(Not again.)

As you give up and walk over to draw the curtains, Sanji says your name desperately. “Can we read somewhere else?” he pleads when you glance at him. “I don’t want to be stuck in here with him right now.”

Narrowing your eyes, you appraise his weak-looking frame, pointedly skimming past the red string that snakes over to you. “Can you even walk around yet?”

“Yeah,” he says defensively. He wriggles out of the bed sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Holding onto the side rail, he stands up and grips the IV pole for support. Though he’s a little shaky, he shuffles a few steps towards you and smiles when he manages to do so. “See?”

Well, you think, if you and Sanji stay here, you’ll need to have some light in order to read. But it will probably help Zeff if the room is as dark as possible, so if you guys go somewhere else, Sanji’s lamp won’t need to be on.

“Okay,” you agree. “Wait here. I’ll get some slippers.”

Ten minutes later, with Sanji shuffling along in his slippers, IV pole in one hand and your arm in the other, the two of you arrive at the common room and find chairs in the corner to sit down in.

“These’re mostly history books and stories for old people,” you explain as you pull out the one cooking-related book you could find from the top basket of the cart. “This was the only food one I could find.”

“That’s okay.” Sanji takes the book from you and begins to flip through it. “Oh, this one’s about seafood in the South Blue! Have you ever had any?”

“No.”

“Me, neither. I’ll try it someday, though … hey, this fish looks like a fried egg!”

Against your will, you perk up. “… Really?”

For the next half-hour, Sanji fawns over the spices used on grilled Sea King meat and how to cook wine clams and the best fish for South Blue-style sushi. And it’s … not boring. He doesn’t hog the book, and the pictures are cool, and he asks you which ones you think are the coolest or would taste the best. Looking at a book with another kid is different from reading with an adult. It feels like you’re sharing, not like you’re being tested on your comprehension or how to pronounce long words.

Hanging out with Sanji is okay when the string doesn’t sour it.

“So you want to cook all of these one day?” you ask after scanning through a full-color page of steamed Ocean Hawk feet.

“I want to cook things from all four seas,” Sanji says. His legs bounce with excitement. “That’s why I’m gonna find the All Blue.”

“What’s that?”

The boy glows.

“It’s where the North, East, South, and West Blue seas all meet. Think about it – fresh-caught fish from all over the world all in one place! I’ll be able to cook dishes no one’s ever cooked or tasted before.”

You’ve never heard of such a place. But Sanji talks about it with such conviction, such resolve, that you figure the All Blue could really exist.

“I hope you find it,” you say, and you mean it.

“I will.” Sanji closes the book. “And when I do, I’ll cook something just for you. A-As a friend.”

He peeks over at you, his eyes even brighter and bluer than before, his cheeks flushing a familiar red. And you find yourself believing him, just a little bit.

—

Sanji keeps his promise.

You know he still likes you (blech) and so does most of the staff (double blech). Nurse Taoh thinks it’s funny and teases you about your little boyfriend in Room 8 who always asks where you are. Mrs. Hong reminds you to be sensitive whenever you stop by to pick up meals. Dr. Gu tells you to tell her right away if Sanji ever does something that makes you uncomfortable.

But he never does. Sometimes his words spill out clumsily like a broken faucet and other times he blushes and stutters, leaving you to wonder what he’s going on about, but he doesn’t try to kiss you or hold your hand, and he doesn’t say a word about the red string that is very much still there. If anything, he just annoys you at times, with how nice he is to you and how sunny he gets when you eat lunch with him sometimes.

You’ve never seen somebody so happy to be in a hospital before, even if it’s just because he wants you to like him. It’s weird.

It’s on the eighth day of Zeff and Sanji’s stay that you learn not everything is how it seems.

You’d gotten in trouble the night before for digging holes in the garden – you had kept the seed from your dinner plum and wanted to see if you could make it grow, but Miss Jaylee had caught you while taking Mr. Hu out for some air – so you’re somewhat grumpy on your way to Room 8, two notebooks in hand.

One of them is blank for Sanji. He wants to record all the meals he’s gotten and write down how he would make them. The second notebook is full of your notes that you need to study for your quiz tomorrow.

Zeff is sleeping again when you enter. You move quietly across the room to where Sanji is lying with his back to the door.

“Sanji.” You can see his shoulders tense underneath the sheets, but strangely, he does not roll over to face you. “I have your notebook.”

No answer. That is even stranger.

Frowning, you walk around to the other side of the bed. Sanji moves to bury his face into his pillow, but not before you hear a very soft, wet sniffle.

“Sanji?”

“Sorry.” His voice is high and so muffled you can barely understand him. “You can just leave it on the table.”

“Why are you crying?” In the back of your head, you know it is not the most sensitive thing to ask. But for some reason, you need to know. “I won’t laugh or tell anyone.”

You hear another sniffle from the mop of blond hair. It takes a long time for Sanji to answer, but he eventually does.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

Your brow furrows. “Oh,” you say, somewhat surprised. Most people don’t like being in a hospital, you’re pretty sure of that, but you didn’t know Sanji didn’t like it this much. “Why?”

Maybe he’s tired of getting poked all the time, or the bland food, or the hospital smell. Nobody here can change that. Maybe he’s homesick. The hospital can’t fix that, either.

Sanji turns his head slightly and takes in a small, shuddering breath. “’Cause it … it makes me remember my mum … when she was sick,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

“… Oh.”

You had assumed, upon learning that Zeff and Sanji were not at all related, that Sanji was like you and never knew his parents. He’d never talked about having any before, only his time on the Orbit and with Zeff. But he does know them – his mother, at least. And she was sick. The memory is what’s making him so sad, and it’s yet another thing that the hospital can’t help.

You don’t want him to be sad. You did make him your friend, after all, even if he does annoy you sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, standing awkwardly with his notebook still in your possession. You remember what Miss Jaylee has told other patients before. “That, um, must have been really hard for you.”

Sanji squeezes his pillow more tightly.

Should you go? Should you talk to him some more?

“Please don’t tell anybody,” he whispers before you can decide. “Especially Zeff.”

“I won’t,” you reply firmly. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry I can’t hang out today. I really wanted to, but, um …”

“It’s okay. We can do it later.”

“Okay.”

You set his notebook and a pen on the bedside table. After some thought, you refill his water and, after even more hesitation, fix the bed sheets on him a bit so they’re not as twisted up. That is the best you can do.

The red string follows you as you quietly leave Room 8, and you don’t think about it at all.

—

“How do you spell necessary?”

“N-E-S-E-S-A-R-Y.”

“That doesn’t look right. I think it’s S-S-A-R-Y.”

“Maybe you can find it in the book,” Sanji suggests, kicking his feet as he lies on his belly next to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” You flip through the pages of your textbook, searching for the correct spelling lest you get marked off again.

It is the tenth day. Sanji is doing alright, and Zeff is up and about with his new leg. Dr. Gu says they’re good to go, so they’re leaving after Zeff finishes breakfast. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

In the meantime, Sanji is helping you with your essay about scurvy. He knows quite a bit about it, which makes sense since he’s lived at sea, and you hope the perspective he’s supplying will impress Dr. Gu.

(“That’s why every ship needs a good cook,” he tells you proudly. “We make sure everyone eats right so they stay healthy.”

“That’s why you and Mr. Zeff are going to have a restaurant ship, right?”

“Mmhm.”)

Sanji rests his face in his hands, cheeks squished against his palms while you continue to scan through your textbook. You finally find the word in a photo caption and, with a triumphant noise, jot it down correctly.

Someone knocks on your door. The two of you turn to face it simultaneously.

“[Y/n]?” It’s Mrs. Guo.

“Yeah?” you call, already slightly irritated.

“Is Sanji there? It’s time for him to leave.”

A frown presses down on your lips. Sanji sighs and gets up as slowly as possible, taking his notebook with him.

“Coming,” he says.

The two of you dawdle on your way to the hospital entrance. You pet Cabby the dog when you run into him and his handler and stop by the kitchen so Sanji can thank the cooks. There’s no rush, not really, but an uneasy feeling continues to well up in your stomach anyway.

Upon arriving at your destination, Zeff waiting at the double doors with a giant bag of treasure slung over his shoulder, Sanji stops and turns to face you.

“I’m – I’m going now,” he says, as if just realizing it.

“Okay,” you say.

You and Sanji stand in silence for a moment before Sanji’s bottom lip starts to wobble.

Yours starts to wobble too. The uneasy feeling in your stomach bubbles up into your throat and behind your eyes.

“I’ll write you,” he blurts, voice cracking. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You don’t know if they’ll let you. The hospital is busy and the ocean is big, bigger than you, and you don’t know it at all like Zeff and Sanji do. “But I’ll write back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You are crying now.

For the first time, your arms wrap around Sanji, and he clings back as both of you bawl. Your tears and snot stain the shoulder of his brand-new clothes. Your uniform grows damp at the collar. It doesn’t matter at all.

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again,” you croak into his shirt, face hot and eyes blurry.

His grip tightens. “You will,” Sanji replies in between sniffles. “I know it. Even if it’s when we’re really old, we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay.”

You believe him. Not because of fate, but because you want to.

—

You write to each other every single week for the next ten years. You tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

—

“You seem nervous,” Nami says. “Don’t tell me a little bribery got under your skin?”

“No, no.” You wipe your hands on your thighs and try to relax against the back of the booth. “Just … not used to places like this, that’s all.”

The Baratie is nicer than you imagined. Sanji had kept you up to date over the years, sending newspaper clippings and recipe drafts as the restaurant he and Zeff founded grew in staff members and reputation, but seeing it in person is a whole different deal. You’re telling the truth when you said you’re not used to a place like this.

But it’s not why you’re nervous.

“Hey, look!” Usopp exclaims, pointing across the room. “I think those guys are gonna fight.”

The rest of you look. Near the kitchen, two men are arguing, and the pink-haired man sitting at the table stands up when the pirate shoves his food onto the floor.

Usopp sucks his teeth. “Yikes.”

Luffy leans forward in interest. Zoro simply stares, and Nami rolls her eyes.

One of the waiters approaches them. You watch as he tries to deescalate the situation, but neither party is having it.

The pink-haired man draws a gun.

Within seconds, the gun and both would-be brawlers are on the floor.

The waiter shoves his foot into the pink-haired man’s back to keep him down, then picks up the plate of bread rolls again, stepping over both groaning bodies with the ease of one who’s done it before.

He reassures the other customers as he approaches your booth. You’re not concerned about the fight so much as you are about the way that you know.

It’s been ten years, but you just know, even before he gets close enough for you to see the red string that trails up and disappears into the black of his pants pocket. Even before you see the blue of his eyes and the annoyed set of his brow, exactly the same as you remember.

He places the rolls down onto the table, and for the first time, you wonder what you want.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #soulmate au #woefully inaccurate portrayal of patient treatment and progression of recovery i'm sorry #usually i'd be more of a stickler but this is one piece where people don't die after 85 days eating nothing but their own leg #zeff and sanji definitely aren't ur typical patients anyway even in the opla universe lol

719 notes · View notes

roseykat · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 1

Title: Same coin, different faces

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Despite not being together with Chan anymore, you somehow end up in the back of his car...fogging up the windows.

TAGS: pre-established breakup trope, swearing, a dash of angst but also a hint of resolve, mentions of alcohol (neither the reader nor Chan is drunk), a bit of manhandling by both parties, oral sex (reader receiving), car sex, unprotected, sort of hate/rough sex.

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER LIST

(This is currently unedited but I will be proofing it later on)

It wasn’t as fun as you had hoped it to be, a party that is. Given it was the end of the semester, people usually prefer to go all out - which they did, but you weren’t feeling it. There were far too many people off of their faces, including your entire friend group that you showed up with.

Two of them were playing drinking games in the kitchen, one of them - Minho, who had completely disappeared for the past few hours, and another one who had found himself someone to hook up with.

In the end, you were on your own for the remainder of the party. After having found a way into the lounge through the masses of people attending and remained on the couch, watching those around you for a while, you decided to get back up and grab a drink. There wasn’t an entire selection to choose from; either warm beer or cheap wine, which you grab from the latter and pour some in a plastic cup to try and fit in with everyone else.

The briny taste of the wine was enough to make you think that maybe it was time to go home. It wasn’t fun, interesting, nor a good way to spend your time on a Friday night. Before being able to make the decision to leave, you find yourself planted on the ground when your eyes catch onto a familiar figure amongst the people.

Chan. Your ex-boyfriend - your ex-best friend at that too.

It was a surprise to see him given that he isn’t really a party goer, but also a surprise to see him in general after the pair of you went through such a tumultuous breakup a month ago. Things just didn’t work out the way they were supposed to which was unfortunate because Chan is one of a kind.

There isn’t anybody like him that exists in this world. He’s gentle, caring, and has a bottomless well of love to give. Now that you’re not together anymore, you know that whoever he ends up with in the future is well taken care of.

“Hi,” Chan says, walking up to you.

“Hey,” you respond back, unsure of how to actually talk to him now. “What are you doing here?”

Chan sighs, looking at the screen of his phone momentarily then turning his attention back to you, “trying to find Minho. I’m here to pick him up, but I can’t find him. Is he here?”

“I haven’t seen him for the past couple of hours,” you answer. “I highly doubt he’s actually here still.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, “course he’s not.”

“He probably went to Jisung’s at some point,” you add.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he replies before his eyes peer down at the plastic cup. “Drinking? That’s not like you.”

“It’s the end of the semester,” you say in your own defence. “I was trying to finish off strong.”

“Right. Have you got a ride home then?”

Your eyes dart beyond Chan to ‘your ride home’ who has probably now consumed half of his body weight in alcohol. Chan catches your gaze, turns around and sees Seungmin throwing back another shot with a couple of strangers, presumably his classmates.

Chan sighs once more and faces you again, “don’t tell me he was supposed to sober drive.”

“He won’t be now,” you respond.

“Okay well, I can drop you off. Minho’s not replying and he’s probably not here, plus I’m getting tired,” he offers.

You ponder for a moment. Since Chan had come up to you, you hadn’t felt that sting of pain that a breakup usually induces. Not since the day you both called it quits on the relationship. But that’s only because things were never awkward with him. It’s only until now that you realise how depleting life has been without him. It’s not colourful anymore.

It’s an issue because you don’t want to be reminded of what you don’t have anymore. Sometimes, the best things can be the worst for us.

“It’s okay, thank you though,” you decline respectfully. “I might tell the others to get ready to head off.”

“And who’s going to drive them? You?” He asks with a brow raised then shakes his head with disapproval. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not that much,” you retort. “I’m not even tipsy, plus I don’t want to leave them behind.”

“Seems like they left you behind,” Chan points out a very good point which you find hard to not be in denial about.

He takes the plastic cup out of your hand and places it on the nearest surface cluttered with other discarded items. He then returns back to you to gently take hold of your wrist and leads you out of the lounge full of people.

“Wait-”

“I’m not letting you drive under the influence, end of story,” he decides.

With that matter in hand, you’re quickly reminded that Chan has always had a strong head on his shoulders and his morals are very clear cut. He held reasonably strong opinions on doing unnecessarily dangerous things, particularly when it comes to you. It happened to be one of the poisonous factors that pierced the final dagger into the relationship.

The cold air then hits you when you both make it out into the front yard.

“I can walk thank you,” you say to Chan who forgets that he’s still holding your wrist. He looks down at his hand and releases.

“Sorry,” he apologises. “Car’s this way.”

He leads you once more just across the street to the vehicle while you think about the fact that you never actually agreed you were going to accept his offer to take you home. In saying that, there was no other alternative other than walking which Chan wouldn’t have put up with anyway.

The pair of you hop in his car, finally able to catch a break from the blaring music that was blasting throughout the house. After both of your seatbelts are on, Chan starts the car and drives away down the street.

It’s not long until silence falls quickly. Things had never been this terribly awkward between you both, but there had been pockets of quietness which used to be comfortable to sit in. Now you can see that it’s not as nice.

“So what have you been up to these days?” Chan asks out of the blue, breaking that silence.

“Nothing interesting I guess,” you answer blandly. “Just studies and that’s it.”

He nods, “how’s that going so far?”

“Fine, I suppose.”

Chan lets out a small huff, “you know, it’s still okay for us to talk right? We don’t need to be so hostile.”

The glow of your phone from your lap catches your attention away from his comment. You blink down at the screen and read a text from Felix.

Lix: ‘Saw you leave with Chan. Please tell me you’re both back on.’

You roll your eyes. You love Felix, but sometimes he can be too optimistic. There wasn’t any way you and Chan were going to find your way back to each other. If anything, it wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I wasn’t being hostile, plus there’s not much to my answer anyway unless you want me to lie?” You respond back.

“No, I don’t want you to lie,” Chan adjusts his tight grip on the steering wheel. “But you speaking just proves my point on why we shouldn’t act like that.”

You turn your head, shooting him a well-deserved glare. This isn’t usually how Chan acts. He never says backhanded things as such even though he can be relatively blunt. Whatever subtle malice was behind his words obviously came from the same place that helped the relationship tear apart.

“This is why we never worked out because you always had to have some degree of control,” you scoff, ignoring the fact that you’ve now doused the flicker of the argument with petrol.

“I was only doing what I though was safest for you,” Chan argues back strongly. “It was never about having any type of control, it was because you couldn’t see what the consequences were.”

“Then why couldn’t you have let me figure it out for myself? How else am I supposed to learn, when you’re not here anymore?”

“You, driving drunk isn’t something that you just learn not to do. You don’t do it, full stop. Anyone with common sense knows that,” Chan bites back.

“I’m not even talking about that! When have I ever driven drunk? Now you’re just fucking reaching for things! All I’m saying is that it didn’t matter how much time I spent with you, I never got to be my own person. It was like I was turning into another ‘you’.”

Chan shrugs, “in comparison to what you can be like sometimes, I honestly don’t think that’s so much of a bad thing.”

The last nerve inside you, had been struck.

“Stop the car, I’m getting out.”

“No, we’re nearly at your h-”

“I don’t care Chris, I seriously don’t want to be anywhere near you right now,” you cut him off sharply, not wanting to hear another word come out of his mouth.

Chan looks over at you, absorbing how painfully angry you look right now and the fact that your hand is on the door handle, ready to bolt as soon as he pulls over. It was fairly obvious because once he did, you were out of the vehicle before he could say anything more. But as fast as you are out the door, Chan is already on the other side to meet you.

“Don’t go home angry,” he says urgently.

You shoot him a dirty look, thinking who the hell is he to tell you what to do, “or what?”

“Well can we at least talk then?” He questions, trying to grasp onto some common ground here.

With as much force as you can muster, your arms come up to shove Chan by the chest, “fuck you.”

He stumbles back a few steps and is not as nearly as surprised as you are by your own behaviour. Never has anyone elicited as much of a reaction from you until now. The shock has you to the point where you can barely assemble an apology to Chan. Even so when he comes back forward, grabbing you by the sides of your arms, and shoving you right back against his own car.

Before either of you say another word, his mouth crashes straight against yours. His swift hands are quickly groping and roaming in every place around your body that he can reach while you submit to his moves. You’ve forgotten how electrifying Chan can be at times when it comes to intimacy, that you really start to feel it when he slides his knee in between your thighs.

You gasp against his lips, yelping almost when his hands reach behind you to squeeze your ass and to try to bring your body as impossibly close to his as he can. For a split second, you break away to consolidate what is happening. Chan remains latched onto you, his mouth now working its way to your jaw and down to your throat, sucking and biting into your skin.

Neither of you care about whether or not he’s going to mark you up. All you care about at this point in time, is the hope that he’s going to fuck you.

“The door…open the door,” you mumble to him, even though you’re trying to find the handle yourself.

Even with the unshakeable frame of mind that he’s in right now, Chan listens to you. He pulls you forward with him so that he can yank the backdoor open. You hop onto the seat, pushing yourself backwards to the other side of the car to create room for him to join you. But Chan had his own idea planted already.

He grabs you by the ankles and pulls you right back to the edge of the seat closest to him. His hands take pride in reaching underneath your skirt and tearing your underwear down your legs.

He doesn’t even get the opportunity to fully take them off as they dangle on one leg. In saying that, it doesn’t take you very long to click onto what he wants to do. So you help him by doing your best to hike your skirt further up your thighs. Chan decides to take a few seconds to appreciate being able to relive this moment once more by using his thumb to swipe over your wet slit, collecting your juices only to bring it up to his mouth and suck it right off.

“Fucking missed this,” he speaks for the first time in about five minutes before lifting both of your legs and separating them for his head to slot in perfectly between.

The fan of his hot breath washes over your skin, already making your squirm forward towards his mouth. It’s been a long time since someone had touched you and Chan could tell. He knows how needy you can be, but not when you’re like this. Not when you’re straining to reach for the back of his head to pull him closer to your pussy. Not when you’re already moaning when he’s barely touched you.

Not when you’re wetter than what he usually thinks you are.

“Y-Yes…right there,” you sigh out and lie back down, waiting eagerly.

One of your hands threads through his dark hair and tugs every time he sucks on your clit. Shivers of pleasure reverberate throughout your body, already making your legs tremble on his shoulders. If anyone were to drive past, you know you and Chan would get done for public indecency. Except that devious consequence became an elicit far away thought drowned out by your own moans the more Chan continued to eat you out.

The best thing about it is that he’s not going easy on you. He’s being deceptively rough by digging his nails into your thighs and showing zero remorse when he relentlessly licks over that same sweet spot. The more work he puts into trying to make you cum, the harder he gets in his pants, straining at this point.

“P-Please Chan, hurry,” you cry out, trying to sit up and slide down further into his mouth. “Need to cum, please.”

When your begging and moaning become increasingly louder and more frequent, Chan knows you’re on the cusp of an orgasm. However, as much as he used to enjoy you cumming on his face, the idea of you cumming on his cock is just as good, if not better. So just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Chan pulls back.

You blink in amongst the haziness of what was about to be a mind shattering orgasm to see Chan who’s head had lifted up from in between your legs. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices, and is completely unashamed about it.

“You can just fucking wait,” he snaps and begins to adjust your legs so that he makes sure they cage his body at his sides, that way he can grab onto your thighs and fuck you hard and steady.

Although you can barely see, you hear the zipper to his pants open before he takes out his cock, hard and ready to put it to use on you. You bite down on your bottom lip when Chan uses his tip to tease your entrance. He pushes his hips forward, enough to make his cock slide up and in between your pussy.

Chan’s shaky hand manages to get a proper hold around his dick, aligning it with your wet hole, and slowly pushes in as the heat begins to encapsulate around his length. The top half of his body nearly falters forward if it weren’t for his hips that thrust forward first.

“Chris…” you mutter in an aspirated voice, feeling the fullness of his cock stretch you out.

There is no forewarning for the strength he has behind each buck of his hips. It takes you back to times before during your relationship and how deliciously memorable the sex always was. Chan’s main priority was to always make you cum first and regardless of his own needs and pleasure. Whether you misbehaved or were being an outright undeserving brat in bed, even then he would still let you cum. That’s how much he loved you.

“Nobody can ever fuck you the way I do,” Chan grits his teeth, his eyes watching his cock disappear inside of you each time he rams forward, hard and fast.

Every second that goes by, you’re grappling more and more onto your last threads of sanity. It’s hard to keep up and absorb Chris’s stamina and pace - a relentless and unapologetic pace that hits the same spot inside you over and over again until that build up of pleasure starts spreading around your lower abdomen.

“Make me feel…so good,” you mumble incoherently. “Gonna make me cum.”

It’s been a long time since Chan has heard you say those words - hell, even heard you moan at the very least. It’s enough to keep his pace steady but he’s very wary of the fact that he himself is already near the edge of an orgasm too. Nonetheless, he’s determined to get you there first once more.

So Chan lets go of one of your legs at his side so that he can use his thumb to now rub fast circles over your clit. Your hands grip at the hem of your skirt, back arching as you start submitting to the crest of intense pleasure Chan has built up for you. Then within seconds, Chan has you cumming hard around his cock, shuddering, and straining his name out of your mouth as it rings throughout his car.

“Fuck, baby…” he groans as his head tips back before he starts spilling white inside of you.

His hips stutter finally, gently slowing down to a leisurely pace while he drowns in the afterglow from one of the most transcendent orgasms he’s ever had. He gives you both time to come down before he carefully slides out of you. It takes you a while to fully fathom what just happened, but you allow yourself to think about it. Whatever it is, it’s not regret. There’s a longing feeling there, a borderline sense of relief.

Once Chan is decent, he helps you slide your underwear back on even though you’re both fully aware of the fact that he just came inside you. It’s not like either of you were prepared for this to happen. In saying that, Chan gently takes hold of both your hands and gets you to sit up.

“You okay?” he questions, using his finger to hook some of your messed hair out of your face.

You nod, “yes. You?”

“I’ve been worse,” he answers, making you smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry as well for being so stubborn. I figured that the more hostile I am towards you, the more I push myself away so that I don’t have to deal with any feelings from before.”

Chan completely gets it, “I know. I thought I could do the same, but it seems that I’m too nice.”

You roll your eyes, “you’ve had your moments.”

“I definitely have,” he replies. “Anyway, we should go in case anybody just saw that.”

A bashful sense of embarrassment washes over you. It’s been minutes before you realised that you just fucked your ex. But even so, it doesn’t really feel that way. It’s just Chan, someone who you still have a lot of love for.

“You can stay at mine, it’s late,” you suggest to him.

Chan smiles softly, “as if I’m going to say no.”

A/N: Yes, I am a day late already to Kinktober - I just realised bc my dumb ass was trying to figure out time zones and when would be the best time to upload for people bc I’m quite some hours ahead from other countries. So I’ll just stick to my time zone, that way you’ll get my works a few hours earlier x

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzetmv @luneskies 🩷🩷

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #kinktober

781 notes · View notes

travellingarmy · 1 year

Text

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

✦❘༻𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝༺❘✦

Ch. 1 - The Beginning of an End

Malleus Draconia x fem!reader

Chapter list + Summary

[Next]

Do not steal/copy + paste my works and upload it anywhere else.

⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱

He didn’t come to the room last night either..

It’s been six days— yes, just six— since you last saw your husband. Although to you, it felt like it was more than that. No, he hasn’t gone off to anywhere else in this godforsaken world, he’s just.. Well, somewhere in this large castle. You heaved a weak sigh as one single thought came to your head: Malleus Draconia.. Your heart thumps just a tad bit faster. Even without knowing who he was, just the name alone sounds frightening. Fortunately and unfortunately, you were well acquainted with that name and have had many yet brief conversations.

He was the prince of the Valley of Thorns, the only successor to the throne but most importantly, he was none other than.. “My husband..” You muttered underneath your breath. The clicking of the heels abruptly stop as you shudder on the spot at that name.

It was honestly unbelievable how you went from a lowly daughter of a combat baron (the lowest rank in nobility) to be the wife of a prince, essentially making you a princess.

Nevertheless, whether you are now a princess of a very powerful kingdom, your relationship with your husband was essentially.. Nonexistent. Well, other than mere business relationships you both have. In fact, it was strictly business that he did not show up in the chambers the night of your wedding. You can’t fault him, however, since you did not want to be wedded to him either. He must be disgusted with me.. You believed that to be true since once again, you were just a baron’s daughter with probably below average looks. Rarely had noble men would throw themself at you willingly.

Whatever, you should not let those thoughts get into your head and get you into low spirits. You had a history lesson to catch and that’s what you should be focusing on right now. What has been done is done and you can’t sulk about your nonexistent love life and your continued nonexistent relationship with Malleus.

You sigh and continue in your steps. Looking at the decorated walls of the castle, you would occasionally find portraits. Of whom? You could only presume that it was none other than the royal family and those who came before. There weren’t many new faces within these paintings, that much you noticed. No doubt in your mind that it’s because despite the kingdom being around for so long, they have only a few monarchs because one monarch could reign for centuries on the throne.

You tried looking for your husband’s portraits but so far, you’ve only managed to find two: one was a stand-alone painting and the other was with his grandmother. In neither portrait was he smiling. Now thinking about it, you don’t recall him smiling on your wedding day too.. Just how cold is this guy? You had a pensive look, bringing a finger to your chin. He doesn’t meet me in the room and he doesn’t even smile.. Is he aloof to everyone around him? You were now doubting if he’d be fit to be king in the future.

Ah. You probably shouldn’t be thinking that way of your husband. If he knew, you’d most likely be stripped of your title as princess and sent back home where you’ll most likely have to face Her Majesty in the queen’s court back home. “Heh.. I don’t want that..” You itch your cheek, sweat dropping at the mere thought. You've only met her once— when she was congratulating you on your marriage— and just as the rumours had said, she was beautiful, yet held a menacing aura of authority. But I guess that’s normal if she’s queen..

“Princess.” Snapping you out of your continued, meaningless thoughts, a voice from just further down the hall had caught you off guard. You look ahead and see that one of the doors had opened and that somebody was standing there, most of their body seen and what could not be was hidden by the large, oak door. “I had been waiting a while for you. Don’t you understand that my time is precious to be on wait for you?” The person— er, fae— was wearing glasses and had her hair up in a tight bun. Her outfit was almost like that of a butler’s, having a tailcoat, but instead of uniformed pants, it was a pencil skirt. She had an air of authority and seemed to always look down on you.

“Tch. You humans really are so clueless..” She mumbles under her breath and from the distance you were in, you couldn’t hear her. However, you did see the sharp look of disdain on her face before telling you to hurry up and to get inside the library. It was where you had your history lessons after all.

“Honestly, what do you take us for?” She speaks her mind once you sit down on your seat across from her. “You will be at the prince’s side; instead of daydreaming, learn about this country’s history and its citizens, will you?” She snaps and slams a heavy book on the table in front of you. You stiffened, heart beating fast at the fright. “Sorry, but I’m only late by 3 minutes..” You sweat dropped at her angry, wide arm gestures as you defend yourself.

“THREE!? My time is precious. How many—“ At that moment, you learned to tune her out once you’ve ascertained she was going to go on and rant to your face. Since day one, you’ve established that she didn’t like you very much despite you trying your best to be polite and flatter her. She would nitpick every little mistake she had seen in you even though she wasn’t an etiquette teacher. When she does, she’d talk for hours, essentially wasting time that could have been spent on learning. On a good day, she will glare daggers at you and then continue on with the lecture or rant for half an hour..

That’s the thing. There was never a good day for her.

At this point, it was best to drop the flowery words saved for her and just let her rant endlessly.

—

“Will the prince be joining for dinner today?” You ask to no one in particular, letting either of these maids stationed in the dining hall answer. When there wasn’t an answer, you assumed that it was a no and that they had decided to not answer to the likes of you whenever you asked. You wanted to sigh, honestly, at the lack of a response.

So there you were, only hearing the sound of your own cutlery as you took small bites of your meal. It wasn’t because you weren’t hungry, but you were sure that these maids will have something to gossip about in scorn later should you make an error. Even if you were new to the country and their customs may be different, you were well learned to know that servants shouldn’t be treating someone of status, especially such as yourself, in such a manner. Alas, you could only resign yourself to just let bygones be bygones.

If you were to scold them, your name will surely be the talk amongst nobles for a long while, most likely saying how you will be a spiteful queen. Your reputation would only go from bad to worse, seeing as a ‘mere’ human is lecturing creatures like them.

You kind of miss your home and your father.. Even if it was just you two left, everyday was a cherishable time. Even with these short days that felt like that’s been dragging its seconds a bit too long, you find yourself reminiscing the life you left behind a little bit too much despite only having gone to your new forever home just short of a few days ago.

… “I’ll be going to my room now.” You dab your mouth with a cloth napkin just in case you had any of the dinner smeared on your face and stood up. Whatever was left of your dinner was promptly cleaned off the table and thrown into the bin.

I could really use a warm bath today.. You walked the somewhat familiar halls thinking to yourself. Today felt eventful even though the most stressful thing was only dealing with these gossiping faes and the headache they give you. You were excited to dip yourself in a warm tub full of nice smelling body oil and stay in there until the water got cold. Even without anyone being there, a smile forms on your lips with an almost quiet giggle.

—

“Kufufu, are you sure this is what you’ve decided on doing?” Unbeknownst to you, crimson-coloured eyes bore into your figure. It was dark, that much was true since it was way past the time for the sun to be out, but the moon could outline the silhouette of a man. The only thing that could be comparable to the moon’s light at that moment were the strikingly deep colour of his eyes that illuminated even more in the dark. He stares at you from another window on a higher floor just across yours, breaking out in a smile and a light chuckle. The only thing keeping you two apart other than those walls and windows was the courtyard built in between. “She’s quite cute. I’d hate to leave such a pretty thing alone for so long without her husband.”

Those same focused eyes break away from your form after speaking to a much taller man beside him that had piercing green eyes that outshined the moon— much like the prior’s. He says nothing to the short male but continues to stare at you. “Hmm, now that I think about it, she’s around Silver’s age, yes?” The shorter one continued on talking, putting a finger on his chin. “Don’t you think they’d be good friends?”

The one who he was talking to seems to be ignoring him and poor he who has come to a conclusion that his companion is off in his thoughts to be paying attention to him. He sighs. “It’s been almost a week since she’s last seen and talked to you,” he points out carefully, doing a gesture as if he was shrugging but his arms stayed hovering in the air for a bit before dropping it completely to his side, “I know humans have a short lifespan, unlike our kind, but I do not believe that you’ll be able to go all her life not speaking to her just as you had planned. It would do no good to the plan of strengthening our relations with the humans.”

“She’s afraid of me.” At last, his tall companion speaks. “The first meeting.. And the day of the wedding.. When she looked at me, I saw fear in her eyes.”

Again, the short man sighs. “That is to be expected, Malleus. She is, after all, a human. You know how they are– they fear things that are unknown to them but if you’d just try, I’m sure she’ll warm up to you in no time–”

“But what if she doesn’t?” The prince finally tears his eyes away from you. “Lilia, are you certain that she’ll be fine having me as her husband?” He narrows his eyes, a bit of uncertainty was read in them.

The male could only smile at him. “Do you trust me?” was all he asked, though cryptically. However, that was enough for Malleus to return his gaze, watching you disappear to your shared bedroom. Something swells in his heart, yet he does not know what.

Once the door closes with a soft thud, he stands there for a while, silently watching at the door where you had just disappeared. He was often silent and staring off into the distance, but that didn’t mean his head was merely filled with air. Just a moment earlier, his heart smiled a bit when he saw the small smile on your lips, happy to think that you might be finding life at the Valley not too hard.

Only when coming to a silent agreement made in his head, does he now turn his back away from the window. His robe flutters behind him, the sound of it heavy and rich, perfectly displaying his wealth. He walks deeper into the shadows– the unlit parts of the castle that the moon could not reach– and then promptly disappears with only the clacking of his heels making presence.

Lilia stands by the window, watching as the young prince vanishes from his sight. He looks back at the hall you walked and the door you closed. A smile crosses his lips once more. His eyes became soft at a thought that will not be shared with anyone and for him to simply dwell on it.

Now alone, he takes a deep breath in and breathing out of his mouth, his heart feeling lighter. He closes his eyes. “Oh my, it seems that age is catching up with me, kufufu,” he softly mutters, still smiling. He takes a bit of time for himself on this serene night before opening his eyes again. The small, yet meaningful smile warps to that of a big one with his eyes lighting up. Suddenly, the visage of a parent disappears from him entirely.

He turns smoothly on his heels, heading to the same direction where Malleus had gone off too. “Ah, where is Silver? That boy, I hope he hasn’t fallen asleep somewhere unsafe..” With a merry smile, he leaves his spot from the window.

⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱

If you want to be added to the list, feel free to tell me!

Taglist: @dragonessgalactica @thefukinwater1 @lychiikuma @rincommittedarsin @sigarxbxby @kawaiipotatoghost @bannuu @yo4sblog @simpy-geli-lol @wtinbbgrerhkop @midnight0910 @insideous-beez @dowdos @jnksgrl @alkiii1w @blackwolfe88 @nothingfuninthislife @becky-chan

Those who are highlighted green, please check if I spelt your name right and/or your settings since I can't tag you. Thank you.

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

#twisted wonderland x reader angst #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twst malleus x reader #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconia #malleus draconia #malleus draconia imagine #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x reader smut #yandere malleus #malleus x reader #malleus x reader angst

1K notes · View notes

whenlostinthedarkness · 5 months

Text

Chapter 2 | Part Two: Silk Chiffon

Lead Singer!Reader x Lead Guitarist!Ellie Williams

Summary: A smoke session in the hotel leads Reader & Ellie into a conversation about the past that affect their future.

Warnings: Sexual Content(f/f fingering, oral, and dry humping), and Infidelity.

WC: 5k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading this series so far & for the positive feedback 💜 Enjoy

Series Masterlist

"Do you ever think about us?”

Ellie's words echoed in your head like a prayer sung in a cathedral. Over and over and over.

“I uhm-I mean..”, you couldn't help but stutter.

Meanwhile, Ellie stifled a laugh as her eyes remained on the ceiling and her mind reveled in the amusing way you were reacting to her question. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”

Your pupils searched around the room as your hand came up to scratch against your bare arm. You needed something to tame the anxiety running marathons inside of you and your surroundings were the only thing you could use as a tool to calm it.

“I think about us.” Ellie said it so casually, you had to question if what you heard was real or a hallucination.

“What?”

Ellie's chin lowered, her eyes following along with the movement until they rested on you. “I think about us.”

She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, when in reality, what she was confessing to was something so thoroughly massive in your brain.

“In what way?”

Ellie’s eyes left yours as the confidence seemed to drain from her once sharp facial expression as she shrugged her shoulders. Suddenly, she grew shy at the thought of talking about your relationship together and how it still runs through her mind on a near daily basis.

The temperature seemed to rise in the hotel room even though a soft breeze was flowing freely through the window. Without a word, you turned to walk the short distance back to the couch and took a seat in the same spot you once occupied before; Ellie followed shortly after.

The strain in the room was severely obvious.

You presumed the only reason Ellie had asked a question like this or brought up this sort of conversation all together, was due to the fact that she was clearly very high and spaced out. Which, you weren't wrong about.

Ellie was indeed very high and sunken down deep in her mind as she dared to travel to the one set of memories that were usually barred with yellow caution tape. The memories always appeared so enticing and leaving her wanting to visit the scene of the crime again..but never being able to push herself fully over that barrier to engage with them.

Now, it was different. She was high, you were high, and a shared hotel room was proving to be a nudge in Ellie's rib as she became consumed with thoughts about something else. Someone else.

It was suddenly like you were a hyper fixation of hers that she was bursting at the seems to talk about, yet, she held it in. Instead, opting to keep quiet and let her thoughts be silent or get distracted by something else that wasn’t her life. Yeah - that's what she needed, a distraction.

“You still wanna watch that movie?” Ellie’s voice was so fucking soft yet at the same time very hoarse, it almost made you melt right then and there into the couch.

“Yeah,” you gulped, “anything in mind?”

“How about….”

Your finger aimlessly flipped through all of the options on the screen as Ellie scanned each of the selections until she found the winner.

“But I’m A Cheerleader- that one!”

You shook your head with an amused smile, "Typical".

“What?” Ellie's smile returned to her face as the room relaxed for the first time in several minutes.

“You’re just so predictable- that’s it”, you said playfully while shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s my favorite fucking movie. You should already know I’m biased to it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” you waved Ellie off as your thumb clicked a button on the remote that started the films opening scene to display on the large flat screen tv.

In her best efforts to fight off the chill in her body, Ellie grabbed the blanket she had packed along with her and spread it along the lower half of her body as she allowed herself to relax into the cushions.

“How old were you when you saw this for the first time?” You wondered as your eyes watched the cheerleaders twirling high up in the air as the camera panned to an up-skirt view.

“Too young.”

“Like how young?”

Ellie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe like ten..eleven. Something like that.”

You nodded with wide eyes. “Damn, ten?”

Ellie chuckled at the disbelief in your voice. “Yep. One could say it was my gay awakening.”

“What about Princess Jasmine?”

“She’s different. She’s an angel and can do no wrong.”

A thunderous laugh left your lips which instantly made you slap a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound.

“Plus, I was too young to understand I wanted to fuck Princess Jasmine so she doesn't count as my gay awakening.”

Ellie enjoyed your laugh, enjoyed it that much more when she was the one inducing it. It’s like she got a shot of pride directly injected into her veins whenever she could sprinkle a moment of joy or humor or any other emotion that made you feel good. She wanted to make you feel good always and would if you let her.

It's comical in a way. When Ellie was 19, it was as if she had to keep trying to convince herself that she didn't care about you nearly as much as she knew, deep down, she did. In fact, it was as if she was fucking up on a near consistent basis purely just to keep up the act that she was only caring about herself. If the act was more for you and the public, or herself, she wasn't sure. It only became more difficult for Ellie to keep up with this act the further and further you both got into your relationship.

When things were going really well between you both back in your college days, fuck, was it good. On the other hand, when things weren't going well, usually because of something Ellie did, they really weren't going well. It was almost like the good moments were a spotlight shedding on what could’ve been if you and Ellie both had been just a little bit older and more matured and established in yourselves. Sort of like how you both were now.

Yours & Ellie's conversation tapered off naturally as the both of you started watching the movie. Not that Ellie was having much luck in concentrating on the film.

You, on the other hand, were fully entranced on the current scene where the main characters, Megan & Graham, sneak off to have sex for the first time.

The film made it exceptionally pretty. The soft pink tones, the gentle touches, the intimate eye contact between the characters- it truly set the mood for what your first intimate experience with another girl felt like.

Your gaze was too concentrated on taking in all of the details in the movie, that your sober mind had never bothered to notice, that you missed the heavy gaze Ellie held on you as she moved her body slightly. Now, she was seated on the couch, but her body was twisted so she was facing directly towards you with her knees pulled up to her chest.

Eventually you caught on to Ellie's stare, nearly catching you off guard when your eyes met.

"You okay?"

Ellie didn't answer verbally, just opted for a nod as her mind was deep in thought. You mimicked her nod of the head and returned your eyes back to the movie while trying your best to ignore the heat from Ellie's eyes that you could feel were still concentrated on you.

"I miss you."

Your eyes returned to where they were moments ago as you looked into Ellie's green eyes. "We see each other like everyday Ellie."

Ellie nodded, "Yeah, but not like this. I feel like we are walking on eggshells together most of the time and now it just feels..I don't know. Natural. Like old times".

You knew exactly what Ellie meant. She was talking about how things were when you were dating, but now you were far from that and hadn't been even close to that for a couple years.

"I mean..things are different now."

"But why?”

You matched Ellie's position as you twisted your body to face hers. "What do you mean why Ellie. You know why."

Ellie knew you were right, yet there was some part of her that wished things between you both would've gone back to normal after your breakup. Surely wishing something like that was foolish, yet Ellie lived to be the fool.

"I just miss you."

"What things do you miss?" You asked genuinely as the movie now became background noise to the first conversation the both of you had really ever had regarding your past relationship.

Ellie's brain immediately went through film clip memories in her mind of all of your good times together. The late night escapades, the movie nights, the jam sessions, even the sex. It was all something that felt right and natural. Ellie missed all of that, and tonight was feeding a hunger for that feeling she wanted to have again with you. She didn't want it to stop.

"Shit like this..," Ellie shrugged, "..watching a movie, smoking weed, cuddling on the couch.."

Ellie's voice trailed off on the last part as if she were ashamed, which, in some ways she was. However the need for this feeling with you was outweighing any guilt that she could be feeling right now.

"The cuddling huh?", you teased with a warm smile. "Do you think that's a good idea? Cuddling?"

The answer was clear. You knew it, Ellie knew it, yet the both of your bodies somehow began to scoot closer and closer to one another.

"What's so wrong with cuddling?" Ellie asked with innocence which made you roll your eyes.

"I think you know why we can't cuddle Ellie."

By the time you finished your sentence, you and Ellie had hunched backs as you both naturally leaned in towards each other like metal to a magnet.

A heavy sigh fell from Ellie’s lips as she fought a battle within herself that she didn’t know the outcome of. That hunger, that want, that nostalgic feeling coming back was making her want to take in spoonful after spoonful of you and this feeling. On the other hand, she knew it was bad to even entertain such a concept.

She had a loving girlfriend at home that was great in every way possible, but why didn’t she make Ellie feel like this? She kept asking herself this question over and over. Until she couldn’t take it anymore. The two choices sit like two different entrees on fine china. Ellie’s mind kept going from one to the other, trying to decipher if she wanted normalcy or if she wanted you.

“Fuck it.”

A breath gasped out of your mouth and vibrated against Ellie’s lips as she held them against yours like her life depended on it.

Your first thought was shock, but relief soon chased it as you found yourself melting into the tender kiss.

One of Ellie’s hands went up to cup the side of your face as your mouths continued moving slowly against one another’s. It felt so sweetly familiar.

For a second, you were nineteen again and kissing your college roommate for the very first time. The pent up tension and feelings were coming to fruition and that similar sense of relief that you felt when you were 19 was present in this very room as Ellie cradled you in her arms with a grip that held a fear of you trying to leave.

What Ellie didn’t know is that you too had an appetite for this sorta of feeling and you weren’t planning on cutting it off anytime soon. At least not tonight.

Ellie's girlfriend wasn't a thought in your mind or hers as you instinctually moved into Ellie's lap to straddle her waist. Both of your lips moved fervently against the other as tongues collided and saliva coated both your mouths like a shiny clear gloss.

Everything felt second nature and habitual. The way one of Ellie's hands gripped your waist tightly as she pulled you as close to her chest as possible, and the other rested at the swell of your ass. Natural.

The way one of your hands cupped the side of Ellie's face as you ground your hips down towards her; so fucking natural.

Ellie let out a groan at the friction as she tried to pull you tighter to her body, even if it was impossible for you both to get any closer. Her strong grip on your hips was enough to have you mewling into her mouth which only made Ellie feel more starved and deprived of your alluring noises, the warmth of your skin, and the way your mouth fit against hers like the missing puzzle piece that had been brushed under the couch for ages. It was a sensory overload that you both had missed and craved, yet suppressed time and time again - and for what reason?

At this very moment, everything else was quiet and nonexistent. All that was in both of your worlds right now was two past lovers who desperately needed one another.

Ellie allowed you to gently push her to fall backwards so her back rested on the couch as she gazed up at you sitting on top of her.

The quiet and stillness suddenly made everything stop. The eye of the tornado had passed and now it was stillness- A calm just after a storm that caused a kind of damage that could destroy towns.

Ellie mimicked your heaving chest and wide eyed gaze as you stared down at her and she stared up at you. Images of her girlfriend were now flickering through her mind, yet her hands never even thought about straying away from your hips.

As much as this moment was a moral battle for Ellie, there was also a sense of comfort in the familiarity that was your legs resting on either side of her.

Silently, your eyes made a treaty with one another that spoke of consent and allowing whatever happens, to happen but that didn't make you any less hesitant. You had nothing to lose, but Ellie had an entire relationship to lose.

You both could stop the betrayal with just a kiss - you both should stop the betrayal with just a kiss.

Yet still, Ellie nodded as she sensed your hesitancy. She wanted you to know that she knew exactly what you were thinking and feeling and still she wanted this so incredibly bad. Who were you to deny that you wanted the same exact thing when it was consenting right in front of you?

You couldn't nod any quicker and Ellie couldn't move any slower as her hands squeezed your hips in a nearly feral manor. This made you smile and feel a sense of shyness as Ellie looked at you as if you were the Mona Lisa in the flesh.

Gently, Ellie's hips rose up off of the couch to collide with your center, making you bite your lip as you brought both of your palms to rest on top of Ellie's stomach.

Your eyes remained fixed on her as you bent the upper half of your body downwards towards Ellie; your hands sliding all the way up to her shoulders as you did so.

You were now hovering directly above her like a mobile above a babies crib. Ellie's tongue wet her lips as she looked at you as if you were a meal she had been starved of for years, which you had been, but all by choice.

In a challenging nature, you ground your hips down onto Ellie's. Her eyes squinted harshly at the interaction as she slid her hands down so she could unashamedly knead your ass.

Your faces were so close together that both of your breaths were hitting the other with a vapor of warmth that was charged with anticipation and excitement. Ellie was finding it all torturous.

"Please."

Her voice was so quiet it was nearly drowned out due to the audio from the movie, but your focus was on her and only her. You heard her perfectly clear.

"Please what?" You questioned knowing damn well you speaking would lightly brush your lips against Ellie's as you remained hovering above her.

Ellie let out a groan paired with a rolling pair of eyes as she squeezed your ass harder in the hopes that would get her message across...but she should know you better.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to use your words El."

You wore a near devious smile as you turned your face to the side, allowing your mouth to graze along the skin of her freckled cheeks and travel downwards towards her neck.

The tingling feeling made Ellie shiver the closer you got to that euphoric spot just below her ear and when your lips did finally meet that thin layer of skin, you paused entirely, making Ellie huff out of frustration and neediness. You found it all very amusing as your lips continued ghosting along.

“Are you not having fun?”

All Ellie could manage to do was sigh loudly which seemed to spur you on even more.

“Awe you don’t seem like you’re having fun.” You sealed your sentence with a severely light peck to her neck in the exact place she wanted, making Ellie’s hands squeeze your ass again as her eyes began to close. “Then again, maybe you are.”

“Shut up.”

Suddenly, Ellie sat up, forcing your body to sit up along with hers. She wrapped one of her arms around your waist and firmly held you against her as she swapped your position with hers. Now, Ellie was above you and moving quickly to take off her hoodie.

You laid in awe as you took in the view before you. Ellie in a white tank top with messy hair that was stuck up in multiple places, yet the image was as close to the past as it could get in your mind. Except now it was fast forwarded a couple years- Ellie’s facial bone structure was more pronounced, her upper body was more lean and muscular, and her eyes had dark gray underneath them from exhaustion, yet you felt like it complimented the green in the nicest way.

Once again, silence consumed the room, even as Ellie lowered herself downwards and kissed you without warning-not that you needed one.

From here, the race began.

In contrast to earlier, both of your locked lips were desperate and chasing one another. Saliva began dripping along the sides of Ellie’s mouth as she left open mouthed, gasp filled kisses that only separated when she desperately needed to have your bare skin touching hers.

Quickly, Ellie moved to rest inbetween your legs before her fingers found the hem of your flimsy t-shirt. The further the material moved upwards, the more present the urgency was as you assisted Ellie in lifting the material the remainder of the way up until you were tossing it on the floor.

You swore you saw Ellie’s eyes pop out of her head when your bare chest was on full display for her to indulge herself in shamelessly-and shamelessly she did.

A guttural noise came straight from her chest as Ellie’s hands moved to squeeze your tits together, making you lull your head to the side out of sheer pleasure.

“Ellie,” you whined, making that same noise slip off of Ellie’s tongue as she moved her face and began furiously kissing along your collarbones.

Her tongue glided along your skin, leaving trails of wetness in her path, until she got to the place her mouth had been watering for.

Your nipple felt velvety against her tongue as she lapped it up using various circular movements. This feeling used to be a phantom, but now it was in the flesh and she couldn’t believe she had been depriving herself of the delicacy that was you for all these years.

Your fingers twirled the hairs that sat along the back of Ellie’s neck, occasionally pulling them whenever she hit a particularly heavenly spot. Ellie gently grazed her teeth along your nipple while her other hand stayed firmly placed on your ribcage- half in order to keep her own balance, the other half just so she had an excuse to be touching you with every limb that she had.

Ellie began sucking on your nipple and you couldn’t help but arch your back off of the couch, naturally making yours and Ellie’s centers grind against one another. Clearly Ellie was enjoying the friction-and so were you-as she continued sucking even more harshly on your nipple, just the way she remembered you liking it.

By now, you were dripping wet as the currents of pleasure, from the friction and Ellie’s mouth, had you rocking your hips against Ellie as you searched for any sort of abrasion in order to ease the pressure that was weighing heavy on your clit.

“Take this off, you spoke through heavy breaths as your hands moved to the back of Ellie’s shirt. You were tempted to just start taking it off yourself, but you were still hesitant in whatever was happening between the both of you and the only thing that was reassuring you it was okay was Ellie giving her consent.

Ellie swiftly moved upwards and discarded her shirt so it met yours on the floor-a silent consent. Now, the both of you were matching with bare chests exposed to one another.

The moment Ellie moved back down to kiss you again, both of your bodies began sinking up in a rhythm that was getting both of you equally worked up. Ellie’s hand moved to your thigh and lifted your leg up to her hip as she ground her hips down against yours again, but this time with much more access and ability to move against one another with an added pressure.

While the both of you continued fucking with clothes on, Ellie’s hand had managed to slink in between both of you. Her fingertips pressed firmly against your clothed center, feeling the slightest bit of wetness that she was hoping she would find seeping through the thin cotton of your sleep pants.

In unison, you both made a noise of pleasure as Ellie continued rubbing along your clothed core, until you gave her bicep a squeeze.

Ellie released the suction of her lips against yours and peered down at you with a cautious facial expression. “You okay?”

You smiled slightly at the worried expression on Ellie’s face and nodded. “Yeah, I'm good. Really good.”

Ellie’s eyebrows relaxed from their tense state, yet she was still confused. “Are you sure this is okay?”

You shrugged as your eyes averted from Ellie’s worried look. “I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself, not me.”

There was that reminder again about how wrong this situation was, but how could something that’s so wrong feel so incredibly right to Ellie?

Silently, Ellie’s mouth moved to your neck as her hands went to rest along either side of your body. “The only thing I'm thinking about right now is how you taste.”

Her lips left a long kiss to your neck as your eyes nearly rolled to the very back of your head as she did so. “Take off my pants then.”Ellie snickered at your confidence as she obeyed your command.

She maneuvered her body so she was sitting back on her knees-her hands were quick to reach the top of your pajama pants and shed your lower half of it’s top layer.

“God damn,” Ellie sighed words that were meant to be internal, but at the sight of the dark spot that was gathering in the center of your panties, she just couldn’t help herself.

As much as she wanted to enjoy this moment and take her time, Ellie also couldn’t fight off her primitive urge to have your cunt on her mouth.

Swiftly, Ellie’s thumbs hooked on the sides of your panties; you raised your hips upwards to assist her in fully discarding the material off of your legs.

The natural scent of your pussy filled Ellie’s nostrils as she felt her heart start to speed up. Her hands were quick in moving to wrap around your thighs as she settled her face so that it was just above your warm and visibly wet center.

Ellie started off with slow kisses to your inner thighs and lower stomach,trying once again to take her time, until she physically couldn’t take it anymore.

Her teeth sunk into your thigh, making one of your hands raise up to rest on the back of her head and your crotch raise up to move along Ellie’s face.

Ellie’s tongue moved along her lips-the faintest taste of your wetness hitting Ellie’s taste buds for the first time in years. She was desperate now.

Her face moved down, pressing a long lick to your center and allowing you and her to both have some relief from the built up tension. She found herself humming in satisfaction as her tongue peaked out to gently lay flat along your dripping clit, causing you to jerk your body upwards from the sensitivity that was already very prominent. Ellie bared her teeth in a grin before she went back for more.

Ellie’s tongue made out with your cunt as she gave you the sloppiest, messiest head of her life. Your wetness mixed with her saliva as it dripped down her chin while she licked up your center faster and faster with each lick.

Your hand squeezed her brown locks as Ellie wrapped her lips around your clit, sucking it with all the pressure she could muster up before popping it out of her mouth.

Her eyes would briefly glance up at you to watch your every facial expression and bodily reaction to make sure she was hitting every spot that once drove you wild; she was happy to know your body was still a well read book in her library.

Ellie’s tongue went back to give quick, but long licks to your cunt, making sure to leave more pressure then the next. One of her hands moved to your inner thigh and pressed it down gently to ensure you were keeping your legs fully wide open for her, especially when her lips would take a break from the licking and go back to suck on your clit again and again and again.

You could feel the warm tension in your lower abdomen spreading throughout your body as you fully allowed your voice to moan and groan out whatever words came to mind that would accurately describe the ecstatic feeling that Ellie was putting on you.

“’m so close,” you whined as you subconsciously squeezed Ellie’s hair in your hand even more as you tried your best to keep your eyes open so you could watch the way Ellie looked in between your legs.

At your confession, Ellie began to slow down. Infact, her tongue was licking along your slit, but purposefully not putting too much emphasis on your clit because she knew you would be coming undone all over her tongue if she did.

As tempting as all of that sounded to her, she hadn’t even had her fingers inside of you yet.

Your eyes squinted as you watched Ellie’s tongue as it moved tantalizingly slow. By the way the corner of Ellie’s eyes were pinched, you knew she was smiling deviously even though her full face blocked as her tongue dragged up and down your cunt.

Her eyes looked straight into yours as her mouth disconnected from your center. A line of spit connected the both of you before Ellie wiped her lips with her thumb. With that same thumb, Ellie glided slowly along your cunt as the severity of your wetness made a squelching noise that had Ellie regretting she had ever removed her mouth from you.

Ellie’s teasing had you making noises as if you were a new born baby crying out for its mom. Begging and pleading and writhing so you could have your way, but Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she was much too entertained by how you were acting.

“What’s wrong?”

All you could do is respond with a whiny tone as her thumb dipped inside of your cunt for a brief second that didn’t last nearly as long as you needed it to.

“You like that? You want my fingers inside of you?”

Your nodding was so quick, it made your entire head vibrate. Ellie snickered with amusement as she watched you grinding yourself down onto her fingers that were beginning to pick up speed as they rubbed along your pussy.

“God you’re so hot.” Ellie’s eyes were super glued to your lower half as she watched the way your hips rolled into her hand, leaving your wetness to glisten on her fingers. She could only imagine how good you’d look riding her fingers like this.

The next time your body ground down, Ellie tested the waters by slipping the tip of her middle finger inside of you with ease, thanks to your wetness. Your little, bitchy whines were enough of an answer for her to proceed, But first Ellie wanted to take you to bed and ensure she had enough room to properly fuck you into oblivion.

At the disappearance of her fingers, you looked down with a mix of anger and shock. However, Ellie was quick to give clarification as she stood up from the couch with her hand outstretched towards you as she nodded in the direction of her bed.

You nibbled on your lower lip as you placed your hand in Ellie’s palm, just before she assisted in getting you to a standing position.

And from there, everything felt like a blur.

308 notes · View notes

genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 months

Note

Could you make a proposal with Dehya, Yae Miko, Candence, Navia and Lisa entering the room with your S/O changing clothes? Like, like they wear clothes that don't show off their body and make it look weak, only for them to have a very muscular body.

(Genshin Impact) Dehya, Yae, Candace, Navia, and Lisa walking into their S/O changing clothes

I'm not muscular at all, but my arms are weirdly strong looking thanks to moving a lot of boxes. My clothes make me look like an absolute stick, though.

Dehya opened the door and saw S/O in the middle of removing their shirt.

(Dehya) "Oops. Sorry, didn't know you were in here."

If they were shy or startled, she would not hesitate to give them space and close the door behind her.

But if they didn't mind, she would at least take a moment to see what they looked like.

Their shirt did a good job concealing of how toned their body actually was. Truthfully, she thought they would have almost nothing on them.

(Dehya) "Jeez, how were you able to hide that from me the entire time?"

She certainly appreciates how strong S/O seemed. It wasn't a bad view either.

Yae opens the door pretty much without warning, and simply smiling as she saw S/O changing clothes.

She leans against the door and watches. Yae doesn't budge, regardless if they were shy or not.

(Yae) "My, there's quite nothing left to the imagination now. I will also say, you're better built than I had presumed you'd be."

Her smirk seems to grow at that comment, her eyes taking in the muscles they were hiding.

Now that she knew they were strong, she'd probably have S/O carry a lot of things for her.

There was no excuse, S/O was strong and that meant they could take the labor!

...Among other things.

Candace knew S/O was strong, you had to be if you wanted to survive long in the desert.

What she didn't expect underneath their shirt was for them to be nearly as strong as her.

Candace had accidentally walked into their room too fast as they were changing.

After admiring the view for a few seconds, she has a faint blush to her cheeks as she respectfully turns away.

Regardless of their personality, she doesn't wish to snoop on them, and closes the door just as quickly.

(Candace) "Apologies, I'll come back in when you're finished."

She definitely wants to know where they got their muscles from, since the clothes they wore really only displayed their arms and nothing else.

Navia almost yelps the moment she opens the door to the bathroom and saw that they were changing.

S/O was only changing their shirt, which was both a relief and slightly disappointing to Navia.

But then she realized that, dang, S/O was ripped.

The clothes they normally wore did indicate they were at all!

(Navia) "W-Wow...You look great! AHEM! L-Let me know when you're done!"

If her S/O was on the shyer side, she'd quickly blurt out an apology, while still staring at them for a few more seconds.

She shuts the door and hides her face with her hat.

It wasn't a sight that was going to leave her mind anytime soon.

Not that it was entirely a problem.

Lisa hums in approval of the sight of S/O changing clothes.

(Lisa) "Looking good as always, darling.~"

She is particularly amused if her S/O would get flustered by her coming in, but she has no strong reaction.

Other than eyeing them up and down with a smile.

Lisa wished that S/O had told her sooner that they were so strong. It would have made moving some books in the library far easier.

But hey, now she knew for future reference!

Plus, it'd be an excuse to watch them in action. But she could probably think of better ways to see them without their shirt on than just work.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #dehya x reader #yae miko x reader #candace genshin impact x reader #navia x reader #lisa minci x reader #dehya genshin #yae miko #candace genshin impact #navia genshin impact #lisa minci

348 notes · View notes

jsprnt · 29 days

Text

Americano PT. 6 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: sorry for the late update! enjoy reading. Next update will be around April 12, due to my exams 🫶🫶

W/C: 3.814

part five

Liked by linacarolina and others

ynln03 Last grind before vacay!

Itsmeluis call me next time 🤙🏽

ynln03 you would order the entire menu instead of working 🤔

camavinga my future lawyer 💼

ynln03 only if you stay in Madrid 😎

linacarolina born to relax, forced to study

ynln03 come and save me please

yourdollamira can't wait to see you babes!

ynln03 one more night!

judebellingham did you spill your coffee? ynln03 reported. go train or something 🤢

I smile to myself as I read the comments on my Instagram post, taking a sip of my cappuccino. The weather was perfect to get some last-minute work done, so my dad dragged me outside with him earlier this afternoon.

International break had begun again, which meant that we had a little more than a week off. It was last-minute, but I had decided to go on a short trip back to London. I had missed everyone there and needed a small break from everything.

"How is studying going?" I hear, looking up and making eye contact with my dad as he sits back in his chair.

I give him a guilty grin and turn my phone off, shoving it away from myself as I pretend to focus.

"Very good. I understand everything so far.." I mumble, skipping to the next slide of the presentation.

I my eyes dart back to him, he gives me a knowing look, then goes to take a sip of his latte.

"Any questions?"

I hesitate for a moment, questioning what I know and don't know.

"Uh- could you put this situation into a different perspective or give me a different example?" I ask, pointing at the sentence on my screen.

"Alright, let me..."

He pulls the laptop closer to himself, reading the slide before he starts answering my question. I keep nodding absentmindedly, looking at my laptop screen while my thoughts wander. Focus and concentration lessening by the minute.

"Are you even paying attention?" My dad suddenly asks, his hand reaching over to shut the laptop.

I snap out of my daydream to look at him, leaning back in my chair.

"Of course, I'm listening.."

"Doesn't look like that to me. What is it? You look distracted."

I sigh, sitting up straight and finally giving in.

I knew he'd be disappointed by my low efforts, but I genuinely needed a little break.

"I'm just so ready to leave for London. I just need a break from work and this..." I confess, pointing to my screen. He responds with a sigh. It feels like he is going to scold me and give me one of his life lectures, but it never comes.

Instead, he stands up from his seat, shutting his own laptop.

"Let's go home then. You should finish packing for your trip, and we'll make dinner together. Will you call Carmen for the recipe of what you want to make?"

I fix my sweatsuit again, knowing it will keep me warm and cozy when I arrive in London in a few hours.

I had checked the weather, and it was expectedly way colder out there than Madrid. To combat the cold, I had pulled out the most comfortable set of clothes from my closet.

"Hurry up!" I hear my dad shout from downstairs, making me jump at the noise, it distracting me from the mirror. I quickly grab onto my suitcase, beginning to roll it out of my room.

"I'm coming, don't rush me, dad! It stresses me out!" I exclaim, standing still for a moment when I reach the stairs. Starting to pull the suitcase down the staircase with some difficulty. I especially pretend to not notice as the suitcase falls a couple steps ahead of me when I lose my grip on the handles.

I hear him fuss again. I finally arrive in front of him, panting in exhaustion. I watch him as he grabs my suitcase from me.

"Come on.." He urges, already walking out of the house, presumably to put my suitcase in his trunk.

I quickly run back up the staircase, grabbing my last essentials before I pull my shoes on. Not forgetting to shut and lock the front door before I run up to the car.

"Can't believe you're taking the whole house with you, kiddo." He mutters, but I laugh in return. Maybe, just perhaps, I had a packing problem..

I look at him for a moment, realizing he looked a little sad. I knew his mood was down since I was leaving for a couple days. I lean forward, clicking some buttons on the screen.

"Come on, dad, cheer up! I know this is your favorite song." I say, smiling and swaying to the melody.

I notice a small smile growing on his face. I begin to laugh when he starts singing.

Of course, I don't hesitate to sing along..

"Yes, dad. I've arrived safely. I'm just looking for auntie right now."

I strain my neck, trying to hold my phone in between my ear and shoulder. Combining that task with dragging my suitcase and holding onto my carry-on was a challenge.

The London cold hits me almost instantly. It makes me shiver for a moment, my eyes roaming around my proximity to look for anyone I recognize.

"Good, your aunt said she's waiting outside, further on your left."

My dad replies, prompting me to look to my left. Knowing extra details gives me immediate relief. I continue walking in that direction until I finally witness my aunt stepping out of a black Mercedes SUV.

I grin to myself, smiling the moment I spot my auntie. I watch her jog up to me, the sound of her heels clicking against the ground making her presence known.

"Dad, I spotted them. I'll call when we get home. Love you." I speak into the phone, hearing a short 'goodbye' and 'stay safe' from my dad before he hangs up. I rush to put my phone in my pocket, raising my head to look up again.

I'm pulled into the biggest and warmest hug within seconds. My aunt's signature perfume gives me a sense of nostalgia when I breathe in her scent.

I would be lying if I said that I didn't have a bottle of J'Adore by Dior back home. Just to feel like she was in my presence. My aunt was one of the few women in my life who provided the feminine energy I needed growing up. Especially when I moved here for high school all those years ago.

"My sweet girl." She exclaims, pulling back, her eyes roaming around my face as she squeezes me tightly. "You've grown up so much!" She adds, kissing my cheek.

"You look amazing, auntie! Looking younger than before." I reply, my eyes caught up in her sparkly eyeshadow and lash extensions.

"That's the botox, silly." She says, making me chuckle. She'd always been super honest about everything. Not a single lie would leave her lips.

"So, the sassy princess has returned?" I hear, moving my head to look behind my aunt. I immediately recognize her husband walking up to us. His face is kind as ever.

My aunt lets go of me, and I go up to hug my uncle. He was a man I would definitely call my second father.

He'd raised me along with my auntie. Tolerated my attitude through my teenage years, and insecure times in high school. He taught me so many things, from boring politics to how to get over a breakup. My most precious memories being him teaching me about small but important matters.

"Woah! Are you balding?" I tease, saying the exact opposite of what I had told my aunt. I hear her laugh behind me, the expression on my uncle's face turning serious, but I notice the small grin on his face.

"You'll make me catch a flight to Turkey if you don't stop." He replies, touching his still-there hair.

"Come on, let's go home. Your cousins have been asking for you this entire week."

"y/n! You're finally here!" I hear my cousin shout. Small footsteps heard throughout the house as I stand at the bottom of the stairs.

"Luca!" I exclaim, opening my arms to greet him with a tight hug, swaying our bodies when I hold him.

"How have you gotten this tall already? You're only ten, what's your mom and dad feeding you?" I tease, tickling his stomach. Cute giggles leaving him as he continues laughing.

"Where are your sisters?" I ask, looking around for his twin and baby sister.

"They played so hard with Millie. They fell asleep, but I wanted to wait for you."

I nod at his explanation, making the connection that 'Millie', was the nanny who just left.

"How sweet of you. Let me freshen up, and then we'll play together. You alright with that?" I ask, fixing his brown hair while watching him nod eagerly.

I thank my uncle as he moves my suitcase up the stairs. He pats my back before telling me to get settled in. I nod, closing the door, and walk away to sit down on the pink vanity chair. All types of nostalgia flooding my senses. Nothing in the room had changed, not even the multiple Zayn Malik posters on the wall.

I go to collect my toiletries and change of clothes from my suitcase, immediately walking into the bathroom to take a quick refreshing shower.

I walk out fifteen minutes later and hurry down the stairs. I notice Luca had started on a puzzle. A generation Alpha kid who's not obsessed with technology, that was refreshing.

"Want some help?" I ask, seeing him struggle with a part of the puzzle.

"Yes, I can't find this piece." He confesses, making me chuckle.

"Hm, okay, so let's see. We need to find a piece with two edges. Can you see some?"

I watch him ponder for a second, his tongue peeking out in concentration as he separates a handful of pieces.

"These?" He asks for confirmation, looking up with a questioning expression.

"You're right! Let's look back at our pattern. Do you think this one will fit?" I ask, pointing at a piece and seeing him shake his head.

"What about this one?" I ask, watching him think for a moment before nodding.

"Try it." I encourage, observing him trying to complete the corners.

"I did it!" He exclaims a while later, joy emitting from his face as his nose scrunches cutely.

"Good job! Now let's try the other ones, hm?"

Why keep ourselves busy with the puzzle until we hear someone walk down the stairs.

"Layla is awake!" Luca yells, announcing the arrival of his twin sister.

She looks confused, freshly woken up. Her hair looking crazy as she stands there at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come here, Layla!" I urge, smiling as she walks up to me, hugging her closely.

I fix her hair as she sits in front of me, pulling her curls back into a ponytail.

"Here I fixed your beautiful hair. Why don't you join your brother in playing puzzles?" I ask and she nods, helping her brother.

I get up after a bit, walking into the kitchen. Seeing my uncle and aunt cook- what I'm assuming, lunch.

"What would our guest like to eat?" My uncle says, putting his apron on. He makes overly large and dramatic gestures, messing around with me.

"Oh- the sandwich you always made me after school! Doesn't taste the same when I make it." I request, sitting on a chair.

"Coming right up!"

"She's so cute! Don't think she remembers me at all. Look at her face." I laugh, holding the three year old as I sit on the sofa. Our bellies full with delicious dinner.

"Of course she does. You were one of the first to hold her." My aunt tries to convince me, nudging my arm.

"She looks disgusted."

"That's just her resting face. Runs in the family." She replies, making me laugh.

"Is this what I look like as well?"

"When you were sixteen, yes. Or when I used slang to communicate with you." My uncle replies, setting his cup of tea down.

"I remember that, it was traumatizing, to be honest."

"Can't wait to use it on Layla." He jokes again, laughing.

"If she's anything like me you'll be in trouble."

"That's the fun part about having girls.."

I shake my head in disbelief, returning my attention to Maya on my lap. Cooing at her chubby cheeks as she chews on a fruit snack.

"Have you made plans yet?" My aunt asks, making me turn my head to look at her.

"I'm hanging with Amira if you guys don't mind?"

"Of course! You're not a teenager anymore, you don't have to ask. We don't mind, but please, if you drink, drink moderately."

"Don't worry, that's something I can control." I smile cheekily, waving Maya's arms side to side. Hearing her cute giggles at the movement makes me smile harder.

"Amira, am I supposed to wear something in specific?" I ask through the phone, rummaging through my closet. Thankful I hung my clothes up in my closet last night.

"Nope, just getting our nails done. Oh, but if you're coming early, you have to wait a little longer since I have clients coming in." She replies.

Amira and I met in high school and still are the closest of friends nowadays. I had moved back to Spain while she stayed in the city she was born in, London. She had followed her dreams of becoming a full-time stylist, and her work was insane.

"Okay, I'll be there in like- an hour or so..." I mutter, distracted by my clothing options. Eventually, I grab some baggy jeans and a white top. Deciding to add the details in my jewelry and shoes.

After getting dressed and finishing my makeup, I grab my handbag. Finally getting out of the house and starting to walk in the direction of Amira's office.

I eventually arrive about fifteen minutes later, standing in front of the office door, waiting for Amira to open it. I raise my eyebrows in surprise when she appears, beautiful as ever.

"Look at you! How pretty have you become in two years? Photos and FaceTime calls don't do this pretty face justice.." Amira exclaims, going in to hug me.

"Could say the same about you. New hairstyle? When did you get your braids done?" I ask, pulling away from her.

"Literally last night." She answers, running a hand down a few braids.

"Well, you look fucking amazing." I compliment, taking my jacket off and hanging it up on the coat hanger.

"When is your client coming in?" I ask, turning to her.

"In a few. Thought you'd like to play with some pieces until I'm finished." She says, grabbing my hand and dragging me into a different spot of the office. Racks, on top of racks of clothing, greeting me.

"This is your size, right? If I remember correctly."She asks, pointing to a label stuck on the front of a rack. Making me nod in confirmation, in awe at the amount of clothes.

I rummage through the racks of clothing as Amira becomes busy with her client. I was looking for a way to entertain myself. Without interrupting her and her client- or clients. It definitely sounded like two masculine voices, at least.

I hum to myself as I flip through the rack of dresses. Instantly, a beautiful black mini dress catches my attention. The deep neckline gives it a sexy and absolutely breathtaking touch.

I immediately walk into the minimally decorated changing room on the left, hanging up the dress on the hanger before locking the door behind me.

Putting the dress on is fairly easy. I struggle a bit with the zipper at the back of the dress, but eventually I manage to zip it up. Finally looking at myself in the mirror after a moment. Admiring the way it compliments my body type.

I need some heels to complete the look, black in color, preferably. I unlock the door, eyes scanning through the selection of heels, before I grab a pair of black buckled kitten heels. Then, I go and grab my phone from Amira's desk, walking back quickly. I have to take pictures, especially with how good the lighting is.

My phone is in my left hand as I try to bend down, trying to balance myself as I fidget to buckle my heels up. I hear some footsteps nearby, but decide to ignore them as I focus on the buckles.

Though, my effort of balancing myself goes in vain as my foot slips unexpectedly, making me fall backwards, a small shout escapes my lips.

I close my eyes, waiting for my body to collide with the floor, but instead I feel arms wrap around my back. Holding me up from falling.

My eyes snap open, eyes wide, and in shock as my brain struggles to comprehend anything when I make eye contact with someone I thought I'd never see here in a million years.

Neither of us utters a word for the next few seconds, minutes maybe. I feel his grip get tighter as my heel slips again, making me yell.

I realize the position we're in, his face is close enough for me to smell his minty breath. A curse leaves my lips, and I try to detach his hands from my waist as I stand up straight.

"Let go."

"Are you stalking me?" The Brit accuses, letting go of me and stepping back.

"What the fuck? Why would I stalk you? You're stalking me." I retort, pointing at him. Immediately going to smooth out my dress, pulling it down as it had ridden up unbeknownst to me.

He doesn't respond, continuing to just look at me without any sort of emotion on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I add, pulling a face. I raise my hand, waving it in front of his face, before I hear an annoyed scoff.

"What do you think?" He asks, pointing at the floor covered in clothes, which I presume he'd dropped trying to 'help' me.

"Do I look like a mind reader?" I retort, looking up from the mess on the floor.

"Whatever." He mutters, picking up the clothes, walking into the empty changing room, and locking the door behind him.

I roll my eyes, pissed at the fact that even a thousand kilometers later, I still managed to run into him. I kick the heels off my feet, shoving them to the side neatly, and go sit down on the couch in front of the changing rooms.

I hesitantly sit down before I hear Amira shout my name. Her face appears in the corner of my eye as she walks up to me, a very recognizable person behind her.

"Yeah?" I ask, fidgeting with the neckline of the dress.

"Woah, the dress looks so fucking good on you." She says, coming up to stand in front of me.

"Yeah, I know it's just- wait he's..?" I trail off, eyes flickering to the insanely familiar guy next to her.

"Oh, this is my client, Trent, y/n." She alternates between us, and I reach out to shake his hand.

Then it clicks.

Jude was here for his international break. Which meant he was probably hanging out with his England teammates.

Of course, he was.

"You play at- Liverpool, right?" I ask, looking into his big brown eyes. He nods, reintroducing himself again in his Liverpool- or Scouser accent.

Our attention is directed to the changing room as the door rattles. Jude appearing from the room wearing a black suit. I immediately avert my eyes in case he thinks I actually care.

"There he is, looking good man." I hear Trent say, his Liverpool accent prominent.

"It does look really nice." Amira says, walking over to fix parts of the material.

I hold back a scoff. If only she knew how much of an arse he was.

I roll my eyes as I hear him being complimented over and over again. I lean back again, trying to forget the embarrassing situation that had happened earlier. My peaceful meditation interrupted as I hear Amira gasp.

"You two know each other. Right?"

I open my eyes, seeing Trent and Amira both look back and forth in between us.

I hear an uninterested 'yeah' come from Jude as I follow up with a 'sadly'. Going back to close my eyes. Wanting to do anything but interact with him.

A couple minutes pass before I hear my name being shouted by Amira. Her voice coming from her own office. I stand up and walk inside, smiling at Amira as she waves for me to join them. Shoving a pink mug of something warm onto the table.

I don't even register the fact that I'm still dressed like I was going to hit the club in a few minutes.

"Thank you." I smile, sitting down next to her. I take a sip of the drink. Avoiding eye contact with Jude, who's sitting right across from me.

A very familiar sight.

Maybe, I should instigate a little.

"So, Trent what are you two doing here?" I ask, a very obvious question, but enough to pry.

"We have some important events coming up and wanted Amira to style us." He answers, his eyes flickering towards her.

Woah, that wasn't a normal, friendly look. What did these two have going on?

"That's nice, you'll look the best out of everyone there." I smile, throwing him a wink, my arm wrapping around Amira shoulder.

"Yeah, definitely. Though, how do you two know each other." Trent asks, throwing Jude and I a questioning look.

"We work together back in Madrid." I answer, watching Jude roll his eyes.

"For Real Madrid?"

"Yeah, I'm on the marketing and PR team."

"Oh! You're the-" He begins, placing a hand on his mate's shoulder as if to tease him. He's cut off as Jude throws him a 'don't say anything else look.'

It forces me to hold back a laugh as I watch his face turn sour.

So, he did talk about me to other people?

Our conversation is interrupted as Trent's phone starts ringing loudly. Their driver letting them know he had arrived.

I watch Amira walk them out. My eyebrows raise when she returns with the biggest smile on her face.

"Something is up with you and that Liverpool boy." I whisper, squinting at her when she shakes her head in denial.

"Go get changed, our nail appointment is in an hour." She ushers, changing the topic.

"Well, I called it." I tease, chuckling at the flustered look on her face. Getting up to go change.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

106 notes · View notes

genshin-impacted · 1 year

Text

Exchange of Rings

(Alhaitham x Reader - 1/?)

Alhaitham never thought he would marry. The idea of knowing someone well enough to be in a long-term relationship and then committing himself to them was so far out of the picture, he never would have imagined that he would set up a matchmaking profile and meet you. -or- You've always wanted to fall in love. Arranged marriages mean the two of you will work to make it work. If love happens, then it happens, though if falling in love is the end goal, you may as well almost be at the finish line.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Notes: afab!reader, second person pov “you”, switches pov with Alhaitham, modern au, arranged marriage, fall first/fall harder, mentions of sex, slow burn(?)

[Next]

Meeting the family is pleasant enough. The house of your made match is a two-story in a well-off neighborhood, so you already know what type of luxury to expect. But you've come prepared today, a gift basket of fruits in your hand as you walk past the pretty porch and stand on the tweed welcome mat.

The one who greets you at the front door after you ring it is who you presume to be his mother, who opens the door and welcomes you in eagerly. Your 'suitor,' for a lack of better words, is Alhaitham. You had to search up its origin to see that it's a Persian name, but his last name is a dead giveaway to his other Caucasian half. His mother must be the Persian half, skin sun-kissed to bronze with her light lavender hijab wrapping her upper half, and a bright smile as she takes your gift basket and tells you that you didn't have to and that you are so polite!

You tell her the kumquats are from your house, and she tells you that she loves them; she makes drinks that her husband adores that doesn't raise his blood pressure. A tall white man with graying hair-- a silver fox that you can see the resemblance in your suitor almost immediately-- comes in from what you think is the kitchen and holds out a hand for you to shake. His handshake is firm and warm, much like his wife's welcome.

"Well, please, make yourselves at home," the mother tells you, ushering you into the dining room. You peek over into the kitchen and see a marble island. "I can't tell you how excited we are to finally meet you. We've heard- or," she laughs, "we've read good things about you."

"And I've read good things about your son. The feeling's mutual," you reply. You aren't quite sure what else to say; you don't know him at all aside from all the things that were written on his profile when it was sent to you.

You would like to think the two of you are compatible enough, considering that the two of you technically "chose" each other through the matchmaking process, but you suppose you never really know until you meet him. Speaking of– that's exactly what will happen after you meet his parents. So far so good, you think. His parents are really, honestly lovely. It's evident that the two of them love their son and love each other, which is not a requirement by any means. It's not as though you'll marry the family (just the son), but it is nice to know that they've set the precedence to a loving couple– something you hope to end up as, despite it all.

To think that it was years ago you heard about arranged marriages or matchmaking in the modern day. That you would end up in one today is something you didn't think you would have ever thought you would decide to do. In its simplest definition, it's when two people are put together to make a relationship work. It's practical, but funnily enough, when you think of it like that, you find it to be a little romantic.

You hope your suitor doesn't mind that side of you.

"Speaking of which..." The father sticks his head out into the hall. "Alhaitham! Your future fiancé is here!" He turns back to wink at you as you feel a shy smile worm its way out at the words. "Or so we hope!"

You hear steady footsteps from the staircases, and you don't mean to, but your heart skips, quickening as you wait to see your match in person. The first thing you notice is his height. It's hard not to with how short you are; everyone ends up towering over you, and Alhaitham is no different. The second thing is his hair. He does not seem like the type of person who dyes it-- or so you think-- so the silver must be natural. The third is his eyes: blue or green; you think you'll have to take a closer look to decide, but they are pretty regardless.

You flash a smile at him before you forget to. He looks at his father and on cue, his father introduces the two of us.

"Alhaitham, this is…" He says your name, and he looks back at you with a slight frown. "I am pronouncing it right, yes?"

To your delight, he is. You smile up at him, genuine and easy. "Yes, that's right. Thank you."

The mother pulls you aside with a sly smile that makes her crows feet appear at the sides of her eyes. "He made sure to search up the pronunciation before you came. Kept practicing it to get it right."

"My wife spilling the beans aside," he says, huffing, "this is our son, Alhaitham. I'm assuming the two of you have lots to talk about so we'll be on our way. Feel free to eat anything on the table! We left it for you two."

"Sure thing," you say, waving at them as they walk up the stairs. "Thank you!" and then you turn toward Alhaitham who has yet to say a word.

"Feel free to sit down," he tells you, and you try not to smile at the fact that you think his voice is as attractive as the rest of him. "We might be in for the long haul for this conversation..."

Alhaitham never thought he would marry.

It's not as if he thinks he's undeserving of love or anything of the like. He just never thought about spending his life with someone like that, mostly out of disdain for the general population he's had the misfortune of interacting with. It isn't as horrible as it was in his earlier life; once people began to be able to make sound(er) judgment and make smarter decisions, he found them a little more bearable to interact with and eventually made companions with like-minded people. Begrudgingly.

(His friends are known to be 'geniuses' though, and with genius comes a little bit of insanity, so he isn't sure what that means for him.)

Matter of fact is, he's gone through most of his life without needless social interaction and has done pretty well for himself, so he thinks that's a testament to how unnecessary socializing is to live the life he wants. So marriage-- the idea of knowing someone well enough to be in a long-term relationship and then committing himself to them was so far out of the picture, he never would have imagined that he would set up a matchmaking profile…

All at the behest of his grandmother.

His parents have always wanted him to find someone once he graduated from university. His excuse of 'school comes first' stopped working the moment he got a job, and from then on it was mild concern on whether he was too alone or lonely. He's grateful for his parents for never really forcing him to do anything, but their well-meaning suggestions are still something that floats in the background, distracting him. But both his parents and him both know that any relationship with him would fail, simply because he would not put any effort into it.

He did try. Once. The person he last tried dating ended up splitting up with him because he seemed emotionally distant. The fact Alhaitham didn't seem very bothered when (to him) the inevitable happened only seemed to prove them right. But what was he to do– pretend to be attached to someone when he hardly knew who they were? If dating is the fast track, then he'd prefer to be on the right most lane or, even better, not be on the tracks at all.

It wasn't until his grandmother spoke to him about arranged marriages, how it was similar to a contracted deal, vetting suitors until he could choose exactly who he wanted with what conditions, that he finally considered it again.

It's true that the idea appealed to him because of his parent's insistence and it seemed like a logical way to deal with the idea of marriage. It's certainly skipping a few steps he wouldn't miss, but it's the in-depth selection period that appeals to him the most. And a little bit, though he will not admit it, is for his grandmother, to ease her mind. Alhaitham knows she has always wanted him to live a peaceful life and though a partner is not necessary (his grandmother is proof of that), having someone he can turn to when she is gone is something that worries her.

So hopefully when you come to meet him, he can see whether or not the two of you can live out that life of peace together. It would certainly solve a lot of his problems. For one, his friends would finally stop trying to set him up with people with the worst possible compatibility.

When the day arrives when he meets you, his grandmother asks him if he's nervous. He tells her no, which only makes her laugh and look at him knowingly. (He really isn’t nervous, and receiving such a familiar look from his grandmother makes him feel like she knows something he doesn’t.) She pats her weathered and dearly worn hands on his arm. "This is not just for your parents or me, habibi, but for you as well." She tells him, "To be seen is a wonderfully unique thing. I hope you will get to experience it.

He doesn't quite understand, but he knows his grandmother will refuse to give him the answers if she thinks it's something he needs to discover on his own. Regardless, Alhaitham dryly tells her to not get her hopes up, and she laughs again before pinching his cheeks till they hurt, like she always does.

First things first, the two of you start addressing any possible red flags or dealbreakers between the two of you. He asks you if you snore-- you say no. He tells you that whichever residence the two of you take, he has to have room for his books-- you shrug and say why not. And now you think you should have gone first because the first thing out of your mouth is the same as his-- he does not snore-- and whether or not he finds you attractive.

To his credit, he doesn't raise his brows or look confused. Instead, Alhaitham finally takes a good look at you, and you try not to squirm under the scrutiny.

"Yes," he tells you simply, and the tension in your body is released all at once. And the next few questions, despite how important they are, don't seem to faze you as much as your questions did.

"I'd like to sign a prenup. Is that agreeable?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of the same."

"How do you feel about a joint bank account?"

"Maybe down the line? But not now."

"Do you want kids?"

"If it feels like we can raise them properly, yes."

"What kind of wedding do you want?"

"A big wedding, but only because my extended family is pretty big."

This turns out to be the first contention between the two of you, and his brows furrow slightly. "You want a small wedding, huh?" you ask. Before he can say anything, you continue, "I'm willing to make it a little smaller and limit the amount of people coming but family is really important to me, so I'd like them to be there."

A moment's pause, and then a nod. "Alright. that sounds agreeable. I'm not very interested in the details of the wedding, so-"

"Honestly, I'll probably have some of my friends help out," you say. "I'll always make the final decision after talking it out with you."

Alhaitham nods again, and then he's onto the next topic already. You don't see a note or paper anywhere with all these questions so you wonder if he's coming up with them all now or if he's already prepared it in his head. You try to think of any other questions other than the ones you listed, but they seem miniscule compared to the ones already asked. Nothing else seems to be a dealbreaker for you.

"You don't have any other questions?" he asks you, and it feels as though he's gauging you with this one like his previous ones.

"Well, not really. the important ones are gone. 'Do you love your family?' I think that's pretty evident..." You put your hand on your chin in thought. "Well, I-" A question pops into your head and you think of it more like an unwelcome thought than anything.

Not to miss a detail, as you have come to learn already, Alhaitham jumps on the opportunity to ask. "You have one?"

"Well," you say, hesitating. "I was wondering what you were looking to find in this arrangement. Between the two of us."

"We won't just be roommates, if that's what you're asking," Alhaitham says, and your hopeless romantic heart skips a beat. "We're both adults. We can work out an agreement on our boundaries and comforts. I'm assuming this question means you want sex to be on the table?"

You sputter. You don't mean to do something so unattractive but it's hard to stay calm when he just says things like that when you're thinking of something a little more innocent. Embarrassingly innocent, now that he's brought up the more lustful side of it all.

"I- I mean, yeah. That would be great," you stammer, "but I guess I was thinking more of the romance. You know..." you trail off, feeling your face warm as Alhaitham looks at you without a word to help continue your train of thought.

I want the both of us to fall in love, you think helplessly. The both of you fall into silence.

"...The agreement is to live together for a year and plan a date if the both of us agree to it," Alhaitham says finally. You don't think he means to, but his steady logic calms you down from any wandering anxious thoughts. "There's still time for us to back out if we really wanted to. Nothing is set in stone yet. So whatever outcome happens at the end of it and you're not satisfied, you can leave."

To the point. "And the same goes for you too," you say, and when he nods, you try not to hold onto too much hope that it'll all work out.

You do, a little, anyway.

You've always wanted to fall in love. So deeply in love that it changes you. If bodies are a temple, then yours must be a gated community, with only the right people with the passcode to enter. The fast-paced dating game is not for you; the people available are not of your pace-- you date for love and for marriage, not for fun.

You think of this almost like a last resort, but at the same time, it isn't. Especially with these conditions, you think this is your one chance to do romance your way. You have one year with a man who is so attractive it hurts, but with hobbies and personality that you think might be so misaligned that it hurts too. (When was the last time you read a book for leisure, not counting fan fictional works?) Arranged marriages mean the two of you will work to make it work. If he thinks you are worth it, then it will happen.

But if the goal of it all is to fall in love at the end of it, you think you're almost done on your end.

It does not take much for you to fall in love.

You think you’re nearly there when Alhaitham brings out the rings– plain, matching silver wedding bands– for the two of you to wear.

They fit perfectly.

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #al haitham x reader #releases the fic into the wild #i would like more arranged marriage trope for alhaitham pls

680 notes · View notes

ninadove · 8 months

Text

As a (very niche portion of the) fandom, our collective attention has been captured by how much Felix adores Kagami — which is true and good and beautiful and pure. But we’ve been sleeping on how much she loves him, and today, I want to shine a spotlight on her side of the most beautiful love story ever written.

Before we begin, let me get the obvious out of the way: yes, she did try to crush his skull with a chair in Pretension, and she was iconic for that.

HOWEVER.

This is only how their relationship started. What truly matters is how the story unfolds from then on.

And boy does it unfold fast. By the end of the episode, Felix has shaken Kagami’s worldview so much that she:

Stands up to her own friends and fellow heroes in an effort to not only protect him, but also ensure that he can keep the Peacock Miraculous;

Actively challenges her mother’s teaching that emotions (in this context, romantic love) are a weakness that should be eradicated from the face of the Earth;

Is planning secret dates with Felix, even though as far as she knows Tomoe has her amok (because you can’t tell me this little genius didn’t figure out the entire Sentilore in the sewers);

Trusts Felix with said amok despite his extensive criminal record, as illustrated by how quickly and firmly she takes his hand — with a little sigh if happiness, might I add. This is especially significant compared to previous instances of hand holding between the two, when he had to make all the effort while she remained completely limp.

And then Representation rolls around. And oh, boy.

Kagami instantly calms down from her TV-induced rage upon seeing her boyfriend on her balcony — a major improvement when you consider how big of a role anger and frustration play in her akumatisations.

Tangent 1:

Something similar happened in Ikari Gozen, when Mari protected Kagami from her mother, causing her to narrowly escape Hawkmoth’s influence. More on the Marigami-to-Feligami pipeline in another post, coming to your dash someday in the not-so-distant future.

Not only does Kagami instantly relax in Felix’s presence, but she laughs — something that previously only happened in the context of Adrigaminette, and we all know how that ended. Felix is the one to mend her heart and make her laugh again, for the second time since the dance.

Our two lovebirds proceed to straight up RUN AWAY INTO THE SUNSET. Kagami presumably spent the following 350 km (300 miles) cuddled up in Argos’ arms, admiring how handsome he looks in his glittery cosmic suit which we don’t get to see because budget.

Later on, they casually discuss Ladybug’s identity, while fireworks go off in the background. Let me rephrase this: Kagami trusted the person who stole the Miraculous with her best friend’s most burning secret, not because she wants to defeat Hawkmoth per say, but because Gabriel has been getting in the way of their make out sessions and she can’t have that.

Tangent 2:

Also coming to your dash in the not-so-distant future: an analysis of Kagami’s relationship to the concepts of truth and lies, and how dependent it is on what serves her and her loved ones in the moment.

Then, of course, the core of the episode: Kagami actively participates in the play, helping Felix tell his story in a way he feels comfortable with.

Tangent 3 (lots of ‘em today):

This part is extremely important to me, because I’ve seen So. Many. People. complain that the play could have been boiled down to two lines of conversation.

And like.

No???

Firstly, this is a show, not real life: we as an audience needed the confirmation to be as climactic as possible. If it hadn’t been, I can guarantee the exact same salters would be crying about the story’s “WaStEd PoTeNtIaL”.

But let’s delve into the real life implications of the Sentiplot for a second.

Abuse survivors do not owe you a brief, comfortable explanation of what they went through, neatly wrapped up with a pretty little bow.

The play is a beautiful illustration of how art can be cathartic and therapeutic, and I need you guys to understand that this sequence means something to many, many viewers — most of them children in similarly terrible situations. If I were to bet, I would say it very likely speaks to one or more members of the writing team on a personal level as well.

So you can pry these scenes from my cold, dead hands.

The kisses… All of them… During the firework show. As the sun rises to signify a new beginning. Disguised as Adrien’s parents. For context, this is the same girl who previously found a hand kiss to be too much for her broken heart to bear.

And of course, there’s the way she looks at him like he is her entire world, like she cannot understand how anyone could ever call him monstruous. Because Felix doesn’t get the monopoly of heart eyes.

Finally, in Recreation:

THE LIES CALLBACK. THE MIRACULOUS TEAM TOOK THE TIME AND MADE THE EFFORT TO PUT A LIES CALLBACK IN THE FREAKING FINALE. You guys know I’m insane about this scene already.

So what’s my point.

Because yes, I do have a point, apart from “KSSGDJDKSS Feligami SGDHDKLS 🥰🥰🥰🥰” (which, by the way, is a completely valid meta post in itself).

While we joke that Kagami is so far out of Felix’s league in every aspect — she doesn’t perceive him that way in the slightest. As far as she’s concerned, she has achieved every fourteen year old’s dream: dating the perfect cursed prince, tortured artist, evil-genius-on-a-redemption-arc combo.

She is just as enamoured with him as he is with her, and I think it’s beautiful. 🦚🐉

#In case you’re wondering if I’ll ever stop being insane about these two #The answer is: of course not. You guys should know me better than that by now #miraculous ladybug #felix graham de vanily #argos #kagami tsurugi #feligami #mlb spoilers #mlb recreation #random ramblings

256 notes · View notes

weirdozjunkary · 7 months

Text

The teaser for season 3 of Sonic Prime just came out and boy do I have my thoughts about it. More specifically about Nine.

Spoilers obviously

The fact that nine wants a proper home so badly he quite literally is trying to reshape the world to fit his views and needs is so fucking heartbreaking when you think deep enough into it.

As far as anyone knows, Nine has lived on his own for practically all his life. The only thing this boy knows is how to defend himself. He has never been shown kindness or trust or compassion, not even from the resistance who had been planning to take over the chaos council for possibly years. Nine had practically closed himself off from everyone, physically and emotionally.

But now he can make the perfect world for him to live in, no more fear or hate, just happiness and bright futures. But what kind of world would be perfect for nine? Well, I think that part of him still wants to make that world Sonic had told him about, albeit warped to his perspective.

Sonic was the first person who showed kindness and love to Nine, and because of that he still thinks highly of him, even if Sonic practically betrayed his trust. Bu the thing is, Nine can only see things from his point of view of reality, he was forced to. So at any inkling of anyone he even remotely trusted does anything that goes against his belief of his world, he closes himself off all over again.

But the thing is, he still longs for the world sonic had told him about! Sunny skies, beaches, palm trees. It’s the world he thinks is right, and the world he wants Sonic to believe is right too. Why else would he (presumably him) make robotic doubles of Knuckles, Amy, Rouge, and even possibly some fucked up version of Sonic himself?

He wants to be right so badly, he wants to show Sonic that he was wrong, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to prove his point. He will hurt whoever get in his way just so that he can have his own happy ending, and to shove it in Sonics face that he was right all along.

But the other fucked up thing about that is (presuming those robotic doubles were his creation), he wanted to be right so badly that he created fucked up robotic doubles of the people who showed him just the slightest bit of trust and kindness who would do whatever he said in an instant. No fighting, no disagreements. Just whatever he says. Even if he has to take out the person he thought so highly of.

God, I love this poor tragic boy so much

#rambles #text post #sonic prime #sonic prime season 3 #sonic prime spoilers #tails nine #miles nine Prower

200 notes · View notes

yuurei20 · 1 month

Note

Hey Yuurei :) Question - What's Idia's relationship with his parents like? Has he said anything super concrete? I know he's complained about them, but he also complains about everyone haha

Hello hello! Thank you for this question!

(This blog pretends that Main Story elements not released on EN do not exist because spoilers are the worst, so this will just be EN-friendly information!)

You are very correct! Idia does not seem very thrilled whenever his parents come up in conversation, but he doesn't seem very thrilled about most things unless they are a particular interest of his, so it can be hard to gauge the degree to which he does or does not get along with his family.

He has a line in Book 6 of, "Classic Mom and Dad, always prioritizing efficiency over other people's feelings."

It would be very interesting to hear other examples of this presumably recurring problem: is this truly an issue that his parents struggle with, or is Idia an unreliable narrator?

Vil and Rook, for example, provide a different perspective:

In Book 7 Idia explains that his parents have told him not to come back home for a while ("That's the diplomatic way to say they're off-loading a nuisance") and Rook responds, "I can sense the deep affection your parents must hold for you."

Idia says he isn't so sure, citing how hard they came down on him post-book-6: "I don't think they've yelled at me that bad since I was eight."

Idia says he gets scolded by his parents pretty regularly, and they will take away his power cables to punish him.

Vil points out that his parents were supportive both of Ortho's enrollment at NRC and Idia's internship.

Idia seems intent on arguing that his family situation isn't as pleasant as it may seem, saying that this parents advised him not to go into the service industry because he would be a bad fit, but Vil observes, "And that's advice they gave to you personally, regardless of the current circumstances."

Ortho talks about how he, Idia, their father and mother would all go to parks, forests and rivers together when they were very young, but after Idia withdrew they stopped going out together as a family. Original-Ortho's death may have been something of a catalyst for Idia's strained relationship with his parents.

Idia may also have a complex about not being born into a normal family, saying that he "just wanted to be like everyone else." He may possibly blame his parents for that, as well (in addition to his ancestors, whom he says "screwed over their kids, their grandkids, and everyone," forever).

Idia says that he got a lot of video games, board games and more from his parents every year for his birthday so he could play in the comfort of his room, which made him super happy, so it seems his parents were supportive of his interests!

But he also talks about bringing an old jammer that he made as a child with him to NRC because if he hadn’t someone would have thrown it away, says he once got in trouble for taking apart a game console and again for turning a vacuum cleaner into a drone with a technomantic beam cannon.

As the majority of the issues we have heard about thus far have all been from Idia himself, and he does not seem to be an unbiased source of information, it will be interesting to see if maybe there is actually another side to these stories! 👀 Would love to revisit this topic in the future!

#twstask #twisted wonderland #idia shroud

95 notes · View notes

raayllum · 10 days

Text

A few things because I realize without it, this amalgamation of screencaps may not make much sense but it's all I've been thinking about for like 3 days:

As the two mages of the younger generation, Callum and Claudia are caught in a loop of both competing with and furthering each other's progression in their magical goals. We see this manifest in two main ways:

Callum and Claudia giving each other knowledge they need, even if it's incomplete. Claudia gives Callum the first half of the fulminus spell (and Rayla the second); Callum figures out the riddle that lets Claudia know there's a map to be had. While Claudia offered to literally teach him dark magic, it happened solely accidentally, with Callum's acquired knowledge being her 'undoing' (on behalf of Rayla) in 2x07. This transfer of knowledge and goals means that even though Callum helped get the prison from the Sea of the Cast Out with the opposite goal of Claudia's, he will likely 'finish' her half of the spell, if you will, by being what results in Aaravos actually getting out (possession or otherwise). Likewise, this references back to Claudia giving Callum's Harrow letter after he similarly lost it, and it is that very letter that gives him his biggest piece of information (thus far) about Aaravos' key: "Why would I open it? It's for you" / "Perhaps it will be you, Callum, who discovers the key's secrets" / "Come on sad prince - let's go get your cube" (1x04).

They're both clever, and even when they're screwing each other over, it usually results in some kind of knowledge being transferred back to each other, willing or unwillingly.

We see this most directly in the initial primal stone theft, which is arguably what kicks off both their arcs in the series in a lot of ways. Callum steals and ultimately destroys/smashes Claudia's primal stone in order to free Zym (and subsequently Rayla). He repeats this pattern of (thematic? literal?) theft a few more times: he steals/uses her dark magic book in order to free the dragon in 2x07 (and subsequently Rayla); he steals and empties out her potion in 5x09, knowing that she relies on it for her magic; and as mentioned, him and the rest of the dragang successfully steal the prison from her grasp, too.

The similarity of the prison to the primal stone has likewise been reinforced. The Dragang get the prison from Claudia after Rayla has already allied with Ezran, just like in 1x03, leaving Callum to be the one to actually disempower Claudia by removing her object of power (potion, primal stone). 6x01 ties the prison to the primal stone by giving Callum a similarly staged nightmare about smashing it, which echoes his old 2x08 dreams that do have a premonition slant surrounding them. The fact that Aaravos speaks of a great shattering (Patience) and Callum compares the whole world to a primal stone only makes this potential thread of symbolism more foreboding, whether it speaks to Aaravos' desire for getting out of his prison or for taking revenge on the Startouch elves in some manner.

Last but not least, we have the basis of for why Callum smashes Claudia's stolen primal stone (future prison?) in the first place: he had a good reason. While it's clear this sentiment is important for Claudia (and Terry) as she uses it as justification for her own actions - "Everything I'm doing is for my family. It's to save my dad" - and as the basis for why she's not evil, we see in a few instances that it's important to Callum too. He is relieved when Claudia can tell he had a good reason, specifically criticizes Rayla for not having one upon her return (as she didn't even get closure about Viren in her time away), and asserts that "if she didn't tell me, she had a good reason" when he sets her free in 5x01. And Callum asserts his own justification for both doing dark magic in the past and presumably in the present: "I had to, to save [Rayla]" and Finnegrin affirms this: "Oh, how noble."

When Claudia says "I need to tell you about some things back at home, you know, good things, bad things," Callum tells her about another good and bad thing in destroying the primal stone. It hatched Zym and took off Rayla's binding, but it also left him magic-less (and in the future, vulnerable to dark magic use). Which, ironically, is also true of Rayla's return both being "kind of good, and kind of bad" in helping Callum unlock another arcanum ("To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep") and simultaneously making him more vulnerable to dark magic use (the snake chains in 5x08).

All of this being a long winded way of saying I am intrigued by how Callum and Claudia may continue to circle and 'take' things from one another - Callum leaving a deceptive pearl in the castle that Claudia may mistake for the real one / Callum being responsible for achieving Claudia's goal of freeing Aaravos - in season six, because they really have one of the most interesting and thematic foil relationships in the whole series.

#callum x claudia #my rotisserie chicken #tdp #the dragon prince #pawns #multi #parallels #analysis series #analysis #mini meta #rotating them so carefully in my mind like rotisserie chicken rn #tdp meta #tdp callum #tdp claudia

55 notes · View notes

maleyanderecafe · 1 year

Text

Broken Colors (Visual Novel)

Created by: The ⁍ Ink ⁌ Room

Genre: Horror/Romance

I've been waiting for this one from @inkly-heart for a while and it is very well made for a demo! From the easter eggs to the art style, it really does seem to go above and beyond. This game is an r18 game so while there's nothing of the sort in the demo so far, it is something to keep in mind of with future installments.

The story starts with the MC waking up and going to her job at a convenience store to meet their coworker, Ramus. Ramus is a snarky coworker that seems to dump all his work onto the MC. After meeting and serving some customers, the MC takes a quiz on a magazine as they wait, however are interrupted by Ramus who walks off to a party. From here, the options splinter off.

Daydreaming allows the MC to meet Dameon, a new customer that comes in after being rejected by his crush. Depending on the answer, it can go a couple of ways. Sympathizing with him allows him to develop a crush on the MC, with the MC attempting to make him feel better by complimenting him and reassuring him. After a nice conversation with him, he leaves promising to come back. At this time, he develops an obsession with MC and the item that they've given to Dameon becomes a sign of their love. The MC meanwhile is annoyed that they didn't ask for his name and heads home. After some intrusive thoughts about their family, they go to sleep, At night, Dameon breaks into the MC's place, learning their name and promising that they will meet later on. The MC can also just act normally with them or straight up ignore them, which either leads to a normal conversation or Dameon getting annoyed, and leads to being chased by DG in the alleyway.

Picking up a call with lead to Ramus telling the MC to deal with a delivery man that's coming over. Someone does come over to presumably rob the MC, but we find out that it's a prank from the delivery man named... Delivery Guy (or DG). After some small talk, Dameon comes in and greets both the MC and DG, telling DG that the person they confessed to rejected him in a rude manner. DG seems annoyed by the fact they treated his friend so rudely and goes to take care of the delivery. Dameon and the MC have a nice chat with Dameon falling for the MC. Afterwards, the MC goes to check on DG who scares them and finishes the delivery. The ending is the same as before where Dameon comes to stalk the MC in their house.

If the MC reads the newspaper, they will get a call from Ramus and then go home after, only to be chased by DG and pinned down. There are a couple of endings that follow this ending depending on choice.

Starting out, the game is extremely well made for a demo. This could just be because I'm biased towards the art style, but even so, the amount of details including how nice the backgrounds look, to the various cameos of other ocs they have, such as Angel on the magazine. I also like the little touches on the sprites when they emote, such as when they're angry there's a vein emote, which gives more personality. I also like the little changes to the nametags when each character talks.

The main yandere in this one is Dameon, or Stalker. The general idea with Stalker is presented in the story, where they generally jump from love to love, though in this game, they are specifically infatuated with the MC and seemingly refuses to let go. Dameon and DG have a sort of friend relationship, with DG "taking care" of those that disrespect Dameon and just generally being a serial killer. From what I remember, this might lead to a poly ending with the two in the future just based on how close they are, which is always interesting. Dameon is pretty much written to be a yandere, with his stalking tendencies, killings, though what is interesting is that he seemingly again jumped from person to person, but likely will stay with the MC based on the what's going on in the game. I am curious what happens if the MC doesn't gain Dameon's attention, since it will likely move towards DG's route of being more of a murder sim rather than specifically a yandere route. I'm also curious if Ramus will have a route as well or even get killed in the story.

That being said, I'm sure there will be much more characters that the MC will be able to interact with in the future considering the sheer amount of OCS that inkly has, as well as the various cameos that appear in the demo. I am curious how the interactions will play out and what the MC's relationship will be with them.

That being said, it's a very well made demo and I hope to see more promising updates in the future!

#Broken Colors #male yandere #yandere boy #yandere #recommendations #visual novel

413 notes · View notes

jeannineee · 2 months

Text

part one: exile

(satoru gojo x f!reader) — “friday, im in love” series masterlist

author’s note: if you wanna be tagged in future parts, comment below or message me!! hope you guys enjoy <3

summary: you meet with the dean, and receive bad news about the upcoming semester. afterwards, you meet with a colleague--and old flame--to discuss the news.

warnings: none, really? there will be sexual content and angst in future parts. if you don't like coffee, sorry cause reader definitely does in this series!!

An impromptu meeting with Dean Yaga meant one of two things: you were fired, or your third semester teaching forensic chemistry was on its way to being a shitshow.

As you kept your gaze trained on the golden nameplate before you; hands folded in your lap to hide their shaking, you were less than excited to find out which fate awaited you. At present, you were the poster child for what it was like to be moments from a mental breakdown. Lucky you.

Yaga, at least, seemed to be unbothered by your blatant display of worry. Eyes trained on his computer screen, clacking away at his keyboard. It had been several minutes since you entered his office, and so far, he hadn’t said a word to you. The deafening silence did little to ease your nerves.

Another sixty seconds, and you couldn’t stop yourself from nervously clearing your throat. “Sir? Why exactly did you call me to your office?”

A quick, bored glance your way, and then Yaga’s focus was back on his screen as he replied, “Ijichi turned in his letter of resignation this morning.”

You loosed a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. “Oh.”

How does this concern me? Was this worth summoning me to your office?

Questions you hadn’t the heart to ask aloud.

Yaga continued, “I know your plate is full with the semester starting next week, but I need someone to pick up the work that Ijichi is leaving behind in general chemistry. His lecture days are opposite yours, so it can fit into your schedule. You’ll be compensated fairly.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, fidget with the hem of your skirt. “That’s quite a lot of work for one person, even with the help of teaching assistants.”

“I know. Which is why you’ll have someone helping you split the work.”

Shoulders sag in relief at his words, all of your prior stress dissipating as you ask, “Who will be helping me?”

“Satoru Gojo. He teaches organic chemistry. You’ve met him, I presume?”

Understatement of the century.

You strain to maintain your politeness as you respond, “Yes, I’ve met him.”

Yaga claps, rises from his chair. “Excellent! Between the two of you, I expect no issues. You’re both intelligent; efficient. More than capable.”

You stand as well. “You know, I would actually be alright taking over the extra work by myself—“

“Nonsense. You and Satoru will work together.”

A tight-lipped smile. “Alright. Anything else, sir?”

“Yes, actually…” Yaga trails off, reaches for a paper on his desk and passes it to you. “Here is Satoru’s information. I gave him yours as well. I’m sure he’ll be contacting you soon.”

“Great.”

It was in fact, not great.

“Alright, Ms. (Y/L/N). If there’s no concerns on your part, you’re free to go.”

You swore your eyes twitched with the effort it took to preserve your composure, but luckily, your mouth took over before your brain could. “Nope, no concerns, sir. Have a great day.”

You were certain that you were now living a nightmare, as you received a text message from Satoru only minutes after arriving back in your own office.

Hey (Y/N), are you free to meet for coffee this afternoon? Wanted to map out the lectures for next week.

Part of you wanted to ignore the message entirely. Another part wanted to respond, just to say no.

Unfortunately, your fingers worked against you.

Sure, what time?

Satoru seemingly had nothing better to do than stare at his phone, as his response came seconds later:

Two, if that works for you?

You stare at the text you've typed, still debating on backtracking. Reluctantly, you send it.

That's fine. See you then.

When you arrive at the cafe, it doesn't take long to seek out Satoru. For a split second, you find yourself feeling almost grateful for the man's unique features. The white hair. the striking blue eyes.

If only to find him more quickly amidst the bustling of the space around you.

Upon your approach to the table, Satoru rises to his feet, shoots you his signature grin. The very same grin that had girls ogling over him throughout your days as a college student.

"Y/N! It's really good to see you," he begins, pulling the mahogany chair out for you. "How've you been?"

He takes his seat across from you, chin resting against his palm. Cerulean eyes meet your own, and you look away immediately, finding sudden interest in the menu laid before you.

You don't fail to notice how his expression drops as you do so.

Satoru clears his throat, an uncharacteristcally awkward gesture. "I already ordered coffee for us, if that's alright? You still like lattes, right?"

Jaw tenses, then releases in time with an exhale. You nod. "That's fine. Thank you."

The man in front of you is back to smiling, coffee arriving just as he pulls his laptop from the leather satchel beside his chair. Oddly enough, he seemed...relaxed? Content? You weren't entirely sure, but it was stark in contrast to the Satoru you dated only a few years back.

"I figured that for now, we could lay out what we want next week to look like?" Satoru questioned, waiting for your go-ahead.

You nod again. "It's syllabus week, for one. Those can be due by the following Monday. As far as lectures, we'll start with the--"

"Basics," Satoru interrupts, finishing your sentence for you. Your cheeks flush, annoyance feeding the crease between your brows as he continues, "That's smart. Scientific method, states of matters. That's the best place to begin."

There he is. That is the Satoru you know.

A forced laugh. "Hm. Well, since you seem to have it figured out already, I'll get going. I'll see you Monday morning."

Satoru's eyes follow your movements, something like disappointment in them as you rise from your chair and smooth out your skirt. "I'll Venmo you for the coffee."

"That's not necessary," Satoru says quietly, standing with you. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? We should plan a bit more--"

You sigh, turn and face him. "I would like to keep our interactions minimal, wherever possible. You have my email if you need to contact me with anything in relation to work. I'll see you Monday."

Your speech was clipped, and part of you deeply regretted it as you watched the way Satoru's face dropped as he sat back down. "That's fine," he relents. "Get home safe. See you on Monday."

You don't reply as you exit, leaving a dejected Satoru and two untouched coffees behind.

The normally short walk from the cafe to your apartment felt like hours, with your mind racing over the last few hours.

Monday was going to be hell. Of that, you were completely certain.

taglist: @mixzimi @polarbvnny @desihopelessromantic @prettymoonlightsworld @kash77 @bakananya

#Satoru Gojo x reader #Gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk smut #Satoru Gojo smut #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo fluff

94 notes · View notes