Tumgik
#so I have something more enjoyable to end my playing on :P
1644s · 19 days
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ruination
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warnings/tags: minors DNI, dark themes, Bridgerton!AU, woc!reader, playing fast and loose w/ how things work in the regency era, Prince!Charles, soft dark!Charles, manipulation, peer pressure, possessive behavior, these tags are not exhaustive
wc: 6.4k (this is so aksdfljas)
summary: Royalty and greed go hand in hand. Prince Charles is no exception to this rule. If he must ruin you to have you, then so be it.
dividers by @/cafekitsune
rewatched Bridgerton, thought about Charles, and here we are :) obligatory unedited, unbeta'd etc. please let me know your thoughts! and happy reading :P
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You wonder how one finds themselves in a position such as your present one.
He is dripping water onto your floors but your other choice was to leave him to his devices and so really, there was no choice at all. You can only hope your cousins remain engrossed in their conversations with the King and his ensemble. Though, you are certain they would find much more enjoyment in finding out you’ve snuck a boy into your quarters right underneath your parents’ noses.
You bring him all of the towels you have and thrust them into his arms. “The bathroom is over there. I left some of my cousin’s clothes in there but…” you trail off, unsure of how to tell him they might be too big. Your cousin was quite testy at this age and you do not wish to further ruin this boy’s day.
“Thank you,” he says politely, a far cry from the bumbling boy you were ushering into your room just minutes ago. The red in his cheeks hasn’t faded away yet but he no longer resembles a tomato.
You sit on your bed, feet dangling, as you wait for him. Luckily, the day is warm and sunny so his clothes will be dry within the hour. Unluckily, you do not know if you have an hour to spare.
Chewing on your cheek, you wonder how you’ll manage to keep this boy hidden for so long and without suspicion. You are due for lunch soon but there should be a delay due to the royal family coming for a visit. Your father is a man unable to not try and seize every opportunity given to him and these types of opportunities can only be taken advantage of with the absence of children.
The bathroom door opens. There’s a disgruntled look on the boy’s face as he tries to adjust his sleeves to no avail. They hang limply over his hands and it takes every ounce of your etiquette training to not giggle.
“Don’t worry. Your clothes will be dry soon,” you say. Unfortunately, nothing can be done about the wrinkles that are certain to appear. But that is an issue he must deal with so you don’t bother to apologize for it.
“Oh, sorry about the water,” he says, noticing the puddle by your vanity. He drops one of the damp towels on top and half heartedly wipes it away with his shoe.
“It’s fine. I think.” The dirt at the bottom of his shoe is going to leave a mark but you’ll worry about that later. The dress your mother put you in has ensured that you won’t be able to do anything other than breathe carefully and sit upright until the King and his entourage leave.
“If it’s not, I can let my father know and he’ll find a way to fix it,” he says unhelpfully. An almost resigned expression flits across his face but he quickly smooths out the wrinkle of his nose with a bland smile.
For some reason, his immediate assumption that you will take him up on it irritates you. He will be long gone by the time a punishment comes if one is to come. Instead of acknowledging his offer, you ask, “How did you end up in the fountain?”
He blinks, surprised. Then he averts his eyes. “I tripped.”
You twist a loose strand from your bed covers around your finger. “Ah.” If only you had come by five minutes earlier, you would’ve had something to laugh about during lunch. “You aren’t bleeding anywhere, right?”
“No.” But he’s looking over himself as he answers you. “No,” he repeats, more assured. “Mother would’ve killed me if I showed up to lunch with my clothes in disarray. Again.”
“You’re going to the lunch too?” you ask, tilting your head. As far as you know, your family and the King’s immediate family are the only ones allowed. Surely, one of the King’s own wouldn’t find himself in such a silly position.
He cuts you an aghast look. “I’m the Prince.”
You can’t help yourself from giving him a once over. “Are you?”
His clothes are quite nice, you will admit to this. It was the first thing you noticed when you saw him toppled over in the water. But what sort of prince falls into a fountain? And wouldn’t the King ensure his sons are by his side his entire time? You glance out your window as if you’ll suddenly see the Kingsguard crawling up the walls and to your room.
“Yes! I am,” he says, flustered.
He seems sure of himself so you choose to believe him. Maybe the kingdom of Monaco is a much more relaxed place than you have been led to believe. “Alright,” you shrug.
“I’m Charles,” he introduces. Charles stands expectantly as if awaiting a dramatic reaction.
It takes a second for his name to register. The spare as he’s been so crudely called.
You give him your name easily. Your father is a lesser known Earl. He’s clawed his way into his position so you aren’t surprised when there is no flare of recognition in Charles’ eyes. Your title hardly matters as you are merely a pawn for your father to move around the board as he sees fit.
“That…makes sense,” he says after a moment. “I was wondering why you were in the garden without a chaperone.”
Distaste sours your mouth. Ever since your first cycle, you have not been left alone without someone to watch over you whenever guests are around. Fortunately, your estate is not plagued with visitors but it is annoying having to seek out one of your cousins when your family does find itself with visitors. You tend to avoid any man older than you by default so you believe you have more than earned the right to wander your own home no matter how improper your mother finds it.
“Speaking of chaperones, where are your guards?”
At the reminder, he scoffs. “I snuck away from them.”
It’s nice to know even the prince feels smothered at times. “And here I thought you lived a charmed life.”
He wavers and then sits a polite distance from you. It should feel illicit—because it is illicit—but the shame never comes.
“I’m old enough to be on my own,” he complains. “It’s not as if Father forces me to train because he thinks I find it fun.”
“Do you find it fun?”
“I do. But that is not the point,” he huffs.
“What a trial it is to have a father that loves you,” you say with a hand to your chest. “Oh, the travesty!”
Your dramatics earn an amused scrunch of his nose. He flops on your bed, head just below your pillows. He tucks an arm underneath his head and sighs. “It sounds bad when I put it like that, huh?”
“No. I get it.” However, to a lesser degree. For all the freedoms Charles is granted in comparison to you, there are restrictions you can not even imagine that he must have. “Somewhat.”
The bed creaks as he shifts to his side. “Really?” he asks.
“Really,” you confirm with a nod. And then you shrug. “But it will not be forever.”
“It will not,” he agrees quietly. “Once I’m of age…”
You wait for him to finish but he doesn’t continue. But it doesn’t matter for you hear your maid knock on your door with three rapid raps. You scramble off of your bed and hold the door closed.
“I’m coming,” you call, hoping the reediness in your voice isn’t noticeable.
The handle stops turning. “Hurry.” With that, she leaves.
You exhale. You do not want to imagine what would have come if Karina had barged in as she usually does.
“You should leave first,” you say. The spike of anxiety has yet to retreat so you sound harsher than you intend.
Charles does not need to be told twice. His gait is stiff as he leaves. He looks back at you before he disappears around the corner.
After a respectable amount of time passes, you walk to the dining room. You can hear your mother chiding one of your cousins and pray she is too distracted by whatever mischief they’ve gotten into to notice your late arrival. And because you are not known for your luck, you accidentally come across Charles and his mother as they enter.
“Why are your clothes damp?”
You’re close enough to catch the Queen’s question to her son. Charles tries to wave it off but she pinches a cuff between her fingers and asks again.
The resigned downward curve of his mouth is what drives you to interrupt them. “It is my fault, Your Majesty. I was getting a drink of water and managed to spill it on His Highness. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”
Her eyebrows raise. She inspects her son further. Something about him must amuse her for she smiles in that knowing way all mothers do and says, “It is fine, my dear. Let us go eat.”
Charles tries to catch your eyes during lunch but you keep your gaze steadfast on your cousins whenever you speak. It is only when the adults turn their attentions away from your section of the table that you meet Charles’ earnest gaze with a smile. You tip your chin in the direction of your father and give the barest hint at a shake of your head.
Before he and his family depart, Charles pulls you aside. Your parents are too focused on saying their farewells to the King and Queen to notice you’ve been sequestered away. Unfortunately, Charles draws the attention of his older brother much to your horror. Your urge to stomp on his foot is only quelled when Lorenzo shakes his head with a little laugh and holds a finger to his lips.
“Write to me,” Charles says in one breath. “Please.”
“Your Highness,” you say, unsure.
“Charles,” he corrects. He digs into his pocket and slips a folded piece of paper into your hand. He closes your fingers around it. “I’ll await your letters, my lady.”
He’s hurried off to his family before you can say another word. Shaking off your bewilderment, you tuck the paper given to you into your sleeve, and go to join your parents in wishing the Leclercs a safe journey home.
Hours later, when you are finally alone are you able to unfold and read what Charles has written you. It is an address with instructions on how to write it so that any letter of yours arrives at his personal quarters.
You press your tongue at the back of your molars, a little impressed at his confidence. It is not unfounded as that same night, you pull out a piece of paper and begin writing to him.
-
It is seven long years before you see Charles and his family again. But it is as if no time has passed as you and Charles exchange letters in your time apart.
You were able to conceal your correspondence with Charles with the simple lie of having befriended one of the maids the Leclerc’s brought along with them. Guilt did not swirl in your stomach at the disappointment in your father’s face when he realized the sturdy letter in his hands did not come from the King or Queen asking for your hand in marriage whenever you were eligible. It is pure luck you happened upon your father receiving the mail and were able to extinguish his hopes with a nonchalant lie.
He’s funnier than a prince ought to be. It doesn’t take long for you to forget you are talking to a prince and not one of your peers and formality becomes a thing of the past. By the end of that year, you considered Charles one of your closest friends.
You were one of the first to find out about his father’s passing. It took hours of convincing and a smidge of bribery to coax your cousin into bringing a gift to Charles from you the next time he went in for training at the palace along with your condolences. Letters from Charles ceased for a handful of months understandably but you sent your weekly letters faithfully. You detailed everything from your days to your studies to the little warm pockets of memories you had of his father and his kindness to whatever else crossed your mind. You didn’t know how else to comfort him from so far but when Charles finally returned his pen to the page, it was to thank you for allowing him some respite during the worst of his grieving period.
The years pass and while communication becomes strained as you two come to grow into your respective roles, you still consider Charles a very good friend. He’s one of the first to hear about your woes on your upcoming debut into society. You are approaching your twenty first year and you are sweating at the thought of what’s to come. You detail to him the families that have begun sniffing around you as if to test the waters of what sort of prestige your father is expecting. It is taxing but you deal with it well. You have no other choice after all.
Charles is strangely reticent at the topic of your debut. He offers a sympathetic ear but struggles to reassure you in ways that don’t make you vaguely uncomfortable. You can’t quite put your finger on why but his insistent claims that you will not have to worry about the men circling you like vultures does not set you at ease as you suspect he thinks it does. It reeks slightly of ownership but you brush it off as surely his written word is more one dimensional than his thoughts. It is far more likely Charles thinks to soothe you by the implication of an order of protection as he has no way to actually prevent someone asking for your hand. It is the thought that counts, you think.
This time around, the Leclerc’s visit is rather unexpected. You are due to travel to Monaco in a week’s time to make your debut but you cannot say you do not welcome the chance to see your old friend sooner.
Except, he is not the Charles you have kept so dear to your heart over the years. He is a man grown now. And you do not recognize him.
“Hello, Your Highness,” you greet, curtsying as suited for your station. You do not let yourself linger on him, to soak in how much he’s changed over these years.
It feels like a slap in the face even though it is to be expected. With your correspondence spanning from childhood until now, it should not come as a surprise to see Charles as the prince he is. But foolishly, you’ve held onto the image of him as the boy whose sleeves were a tad too long and whose smile hadn’t quite grown into the charming one he’s sporting now. Before, you could trick yourself into believing Charles was a friend of equal standing. But now you know that has never been the case.
He has always been Prince Charles Leclerc.
You greet his younger brother next, dutifully reciting your introductions to one another. A flash of recognition crosses his expression and his eyes flick to Charles for a moment. You pretend you do not notice.
His older brother, the king, makes idle conversation with your parents. Your fingers twitch against the fabric of your lehenga. The weight of your necklace is suddenly stifling and you bring your hand up to adjust it.
“Are you excited about your debut?” Arthur asks politely.
Seeing as your parents and the king have left the three of you to your own devices but within their eyesight, your shoulders loosen. “If my mother asks, I told you I’ve never been more excited in my life,” you say, sharing a conspiring smile with him. There is little doubt in your mind that Arthur is expected to happen upon a wife during this ball somehow.
“And if I ask?”
Charles’ voice is smooth and playful. He is not someone you can ignore regardless but you wish he made it a little easier to look at him without feeling blinded by his beauty.
“I am dreading it,” you confess. And he is well aware of that.
“Still scared no one will ask you for your dance card?” Charles teases.
You look up as if considering the possibility. The thought crossed your mind months ago but your mother had quickly assuaged those fears. “No,” you say. It isn’t arrogance that fuels your adamant denial. It will be a shock if not one man approaches you for a dance at your debut of all things. “More that I am scared my father will throw me to the first man who extends his hand.”
Your dry confession wipes the smile off of Charles’ face. “He would not do that.”
Arthur looks aghast. “Would he?”
“He would,” you say seriously. “We all have our duties do we not?”
You manage to shut Charles up while encouraging Arthur to complain about how his mother plans to spring a bride upon him to keep her wayward son home. Said mother beckons to him after ten minutes to point him towards Lorenzo’s guard, leaving you and Charles with the illusion that you two are alone. Hyperaware of his presence, you take a step back. You may not be searching for a husband but it does not mean you can tarnish your reputation by being careless. You turn to head back to your room with the intention of feigning ill. Except, a set of footsteps echo your own.
Charles follows after you. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”
Not particularly, you think but force the thought into the recesses of your mind. “While that sounds lovely, your Highness, I really must go.”
His hand wraps around your wrist before you can take another step away from him. “Must you be so cold?”
“Your Highness,” you whisper warningly. Your voice pitches at the end as your eyes dart around the two of you. There are eyes in every corner and none are to be trusted.
“Charles,” he corrects. “I’m Charles.”
His grip isn’t so tight that you cannot pull away and yet, you do not make an attempt. You stand there with his hand around your wrist and your heart in your throat like a fool. “We cannot be alone, Charles.”
“We’ll sneak off then,” he implores. His voice lowers. “Please. I’ve missed you.” The words linger as if he has more to say but he limits himself to this vulnerability.
The ache in his voice threads through your ribs until it wraps around your heart and squeezes. You chew on your lip for a moment you do not have to spare and then admit defeat. “Wait for me in my room,” you whisper. “I trust you remember how to get there?”
A boyish grin tugs at his lips. “How could I forget?” And then he is off, walking through the halls as if they are all he’s ever known.
You make your way to the kitchen with half a mind to sneak off into the gardens on your own. But you banish the thought, having briefly imagined the disappointment on Charles’ face if you do not show up. You quickly pack lunch and loop your arm through the handle of the basket.
It’s easy enough to get to your room without any prying eyes but you can never be too cautious. You peek around yourself, angling the basket so it looks smaller than it is to a wandering eye, before opening your door. Charles is digging through your vanity and spins around when he hears the creak of your door.
There’s something crumpled in his hand that he quickly shoves into a pocket. He grimaces. “You are back.”
You shoot him an unimpressed look. “I am. Are you ready for lunch?” You do not have the patience to question what he’s taken as a souvenir. It is likely something innocuous and something you’d give to him without thought anyway. Nothing you have is of value to a prince of all people.
“Are we to eat in here?”
You shake the basket hanging from your arm. “Of course not. We shall eat in the garden.” Eyeing the worn out throw on your couch, you point to it. “Take that so we may sit on it.”
Charles acquiesces, carefully bundling it in his arms. The hallway is empty and there are no echoes of hurried footsteps so you motion for Charles to follow you. Instead of leaving how you came, you lead Charles towards the rarely used back hallway. With two quick turns, the two of you find yourselves near the unused lower quarters.
Charles glances around himself, mildly surprised. “I was not aware these were here. Even from the outside it looks so…”
“Decayed?” you offer, amused at how he doesn’t correct you. “My grandfather never bothered to include these in the renovations so they remain empty. Every once in a while, someone will come down and clean it but if anyone is down here, it’s either me or my cousins.” You think it’s haunted as well but you don’t tell Charles that.
Pushing open a door with your back, you bring Charles to the very edge of your mother’s garden. A quaint pond sits off to the side, hidden from view.
Once the two of you are settled atop of your blanket with food in your hands, you ask, “Is this the season you intend on finding a wife?”
Charles chokes on his sandwich. You jerk back, nearly dropping your own due to his coughing fit. He thumps at his chest a few times before clearing his throat. With watery eyes and a raw voice, he says, “No. It is not the right time yet.”
Charles is twenty two to your twenty. He is considered young in a way you are not granted. Envy begins to drip into you but you quickly cauterize the entry point of it. The freedom you long for is no fault of Charles.
“You do love your dalliances,” you agree teasingly.
Embarrassment scalds his face to a deep red. You are confident if you were to hold your hand up an inch from his cheek, you would feel the residual heat.
He splutters, unable to form a string of words in defense for himself.
You laugh loudly. His reputation as a rake has preceded him. You don’t think it to be as scandalous as higher society wishes to believe but there must be some kernel of truth mixed in with the rumors. Despite the rumors circulation, it certainly hasn’t affected his value on the marriage market.
“I don’t—“ Charles presses his lips together and sighs. “Okay, that is true. To an extent.”
“Oh, is it now?”
He throws a piece of carrot at you. The red in his cheeks is receding but not by much. “I’m young,” he defends. “And I am trying to be patient for her sake. Or else, I would already have a betrothal in the works by now.”
Your ears perk up. “There is someone you wish to wed?” you repeat excitedly. He has not mentioned anyone in particular to you but perhaps they are someone he wishes to keep close to his heart until the match is secured. While so far none of your letters to each other have been placed into the wrong hands, some subjects are too delicate to risk the chance.
Charles looks off to the distance and then back to you. A crumb rests on the corner of his mouth and the casualness of it is at odds with the severity that pinches his face. “Yes.”
“Do they know of your intentions?” You try to think back on if Charles has accidentally hinted at someone being in the picture but you are drawing a blank.
He scoffs. He sounds almost bitter but when you look at him, the purse of his lips is closer to self-deprecating. “Not in the slightest. She would run in the other direction if she knew.”
“Oh please, you are a prince,” you say, exasperated. “You will be hard pressed to find a woman who wouldn’t swoon at a proposal from you.”
“You would be surprised.”
You knock your shoulder against his. Many dream of becoming a part of the royal family and romanticize it to an extreme degree. The insight Charles has given you over the years has proven it is anything but and you do not envy the women who will find themselves by the Leclerc’s sides.
“I am surprised. Besides being a prince, you’re charming too,” you say thoughtfully.
“And handsome.”
“And handsome,” you agree much to his delight.
“See? I knew it. I knew you thought this as well.”
“So then you understand why I think it is absurd you are so hesitant. You’ve always been brave. But maybe that is a testament to how fond you are of her.” You will have to make sure to keep a careful eye on who captures Charles’ attention at the ball. Perhaps, you may even need to deploy Arthur to gather some intel.
“I am very fond,” he says softly.
You look up at him to find his eyes already trained on you. Unease weaves itself through you, opening a pit in your belly. But you ignore it. “Hopefully, you will invite me to the wedding.”
He is silent for a long enough time that you fear you’ve overstepped some boundary you weren’t aware was in place. Before you can apologize, Charles brings his hand up. For a moment, you think he will lay his hand against your cheek and you begin to move away. But he merely picks a stray rose petal that has somehow found flight in the wind and tangled itself in your hair.
Whatever look is on your face softens him and the intensity radiating from him peters off into something less stifling. He leans back and examines the petal in his hand. It’s ruby red and faintly fragrant. It seems to center him for Charles says to you, “Save me a dance?”
Your answer is an easy, “Of course, Your Highness.”
Seven short days later, you find yourself in Charles’ home. The ballroom is stunning but its beauty cannot take away the nerves that have overtaken you. Your bones feel soft and weak and you fear you won’t have the strength to stand in front of the Queen. You long to hold your mother’s arm, clinging to her as a child once more, but you force yourself to take each step into the ballroom by yourself. You take a cursory look around, relief overlaying your anxiety at how many other nervous debutantes there are. Your anxiety is fully extinguished once you see Charles chatting with who you believe is Pierre. As if sensing your attention, he slowly turns to your direction and finds you almost instantly.
You give him a mockery of a curtsy.
He gives you a wink.
And so, your debut comes and goes with Charles dominating your dance card. Arthur manages to sneak himself on there as well as Pierre but other than the Leclerc brothers, Pierre, and a few others, your dance card is barren of any of the men your father hoped to potentially marry you off to.
A sticky sort of relief coats your lungs at managing to delay the inevitable for a while longer.
“Last night would have been awful if not for you. Thank you.”
You must head back to your home this afternoon but somehow, you have managed to carve out some time after breakfast to sneak away to say your goodbyes. It took the length of one dance to convince Charles to abandon his duties to allow you to say goodbye. It makes you think perhaps it is a good thing Charles was not the first born.
The glances you keep taking over your shoulder are more instinctual than anything. According to him, this part of the castle is secluded.
“I am indebted to you.”
Charles puts a hand on the ledge to lean forward until he’s all you can see. This close, you can the brown ring around his irises. He studies you, studies how you can’t help but sneak a peek at his mouth, and hums.
“I’ll be sure to collect my debt then.”
-
You enter your twenty fourth year with no prospects in sight. It horrifies your father.
You have become accustomed to it. The disappointment used to sit bitterly in your stomach but now you’re able to set it aside and put acceptance in its place. You’ve joined your younger cousin for her debut as her chaperone. The castle is as you remember it and so you’re able to impart onto her the two places she can go to for a breather if the chance arises and is needed.
She’s already danced with three gentlemen when she makes her way back to your side. You almost shoo her away but she grabs at you insistently. “The Prince is looking at you,” Sarish whispers.
“He’s probably looking at you,” you whisper back, distracted. You’re tempted to rip your bracelet from the thread it’s caught upon but with your luck, you’ll end up unraveling a good portion of the delicate seam work your mother labored over.
“No, he is not. Look,” she says urgently.
To appease her, you look around until you find one of the younger Leclerc brothers. Arthur has been coerced into a dance with another young woman but Charles remains off to the side. As Sarish says, he is looking at you.
He raises his champagne flute to you, earning the attention of those around him as he does. People crane their neck to see who has caught the eye of the ever elusive Prince Charles Leclerc.
Thankfully, the ballroom is so full, it is impossible to pick out who Charles motioned towards. You have learned to be grateful for the little things and that does not stop now.
“See!”
“I see,” you say through gritted teeth. “Oh look, more gentlemen are coming.” And then you leave your cousin to the swarm of men coming her way because while you are a chaperone, you never promised to be a good one.
It is surprisingly easy to escape to the backyard. Fleetingly, you think they should have more guards around but the lack of them works out in your favor.
You head towards the fountain a few feet away. The gentle lapping of the water soothes you and you take a fortifying breath. Charles can afford to be reckless but you cannot.
Gravel crunches beneath someone’s feet behind you and you whirl around, a hand to your heart. But you find that it is only Charles.
“I hear another betrothal is in the works for you,” Charles says after the silence stretches on for a moment too long. He adjusts his cuff links, smile thin and eyes devoid of all feeling.
You cast a wary glance over his shoulder. The party is in full swing and the guests haven’t quite yet begun to trickle into the backyard. “You called me out here to speak to me about rumors?” you ask doubtfully. Your father, a greedy man with an even greedier extended family, has been anguishing over your lack of proposals. The few courtships you’ve had have extinguished before they could get off the ground. And it is not for a lack of trying on your behalf either. Marriage may not excite you but you see its practicality. It helps that marriage will mean you are no longer be under your father’s thumb and beholden to his politics.
As the months drag and your various suitor’s indecision remains, your father’s hopes at finding a match lessened until he’s now grasping at straws.
“Your father has sent a letter to Carlos,” Charles informs you in a tight voice. “Expressing his interest in potentially being a foothold for the Sainz in Monaco.”
You close your eyes, cursing your father. He must truly be desperate if he thinks to weaponize his little influence to sway an outsider. “The Sainz are a smart family. They will not entertain such a clumsy scheme.”
The gravel shifts underneath his shoes. “Do not worry. I am the only one who saw the letter and I do not think your father so stupid as to think he can insert himself into matters such as this. Desperate, yes, but not stupid.”
The ironclad grip on your heart releases. “Thank you.”
“You have met Carlos though.”
He does not frame it as a question but you answer it like one anyway.
“Yes.” It had been a peculiar week when the Duke’s son found himself at your family home. An accident you still find hard to believe. You smile at the memory.
Charles grinds his teeth. “He is considering making his own offer for your hand.”
That stops you short. “What?”
“He sent the letter before your father’s arrived. The Duke was kind enough to inform me of your father’s…lapse in judgment. He also let me know of his son’s intentions.”
You did not think you left such an impression on Carlos but alas, maybe your luck is looking upwards for once. You cannot control the grin that graces your mouth at this information. If you must marry, you suppose he is a fine choice for a husband. He is certainly someone you know you can come to love and it would be far from a chore to do so. “I see,” you say diplomatically.
“Will you marry anyone then?”
His tone is disapproving and it immediately makes your hackles rise. Charles is a second prince and with his nephew’s arrival, he is no longer considered the spare. He is free to choose who he wants rather than what is good for the nation. Surely nothing holds him back from marrying the girl he loves he mentioned just a scant four years ago.
“I will marry anyone my father finds suitable,” you correct coolly. “It seems you forget my station.”
He rubs his mouth angrily. “Why haven’t you considered me?”
One second you are capable of breath and in the next, you feel as if your lungs have been compressed. The corset is much too tight and there is a sudden lack of air.
“Pardon?”
Charles steps towards you. A perverse sort of torment crosses his face. “Have you not thought of me as I have thought of you?” Another step. “Not even once?”
You must not hide your expression quick enough for his eyes light up. “Charles,” you say with a touch of warning.
“You must have,” he decides, advancing forward. A pleased smile stretches across his mouth.
“If I have, it was fleeting,” you say, taking an equal step back. “I do not dare to wish for more than I can be granted.”
“But you can be granted me.”
“But I don’t wish to be a part of your family, Charles.” Your head is spinning. “I am ill suited. I cannot be your wife. I cannot handle those expectations with grace, Charles.”
“And I cannot bear to be without you,” he interrupts desperately.  “I tire of waiting. I tire of waiting for you to come to your senses.” He says your name, a longing whisper on his lips. “I tire of you refusing me.”
Your blood turns to ice. There is a brief swoop of your stomach as you take another step back from Charles. The back of your heels hit the fountain and you nearly buckle backwards.
“I think you should go inside now, Your Highness,” you say, voice caught in the back of your throat.
Charles has no care for your personal space and neither your propriety for he comes closer. He cups your cheek with a too warm hand despite your flinch. This point of contact is damning. “Why would I do that?”
“Charles, I don’t have a chaperone.” The music is winding down and perhaps that is why your heartbeat sounds deafening in your ears. It will be no time at all before the guests begin to trickle out to enjoy the night air.
If Charles will not course correct, you will. You have every intention of slipping off and fueling a different type of rumor but Charles doesn’t move out of your way. Instead, his thumb rubs across your bottom lip with reverence. His touch anchors you to your spot.
Dread runs sluggishly through your veins when his eyes trail down your face. You are beginning to understand that there is only one way this night will end. And you are a fool for not realizing it the moment Charles stepped foot in this courtyard.
Your ankle scrapes against a sharp edge on the fountain, reminding you of your place. You have nowhere to go and nowhere to hide from Charles. He’s set the trap and you’ve found yourself a willing participant in your demise.
“You haven’t had a chaperone with me for years, my lady,” he points out softly. “Must you start now?”
Charles doesn’t wait for an answer.
For all of Charles’ gentle appearance, he kisses you like he’s starved. He dips you slightly, placing his other hand flat against the small of your back for stability. Without his foresight, you might’ve taken you both into the fountain.
Your hands weakly push at his chest but he pays no mind. Instead, he deepens the kiss. Scandalized does not cover what you feel when his tongue slips past the seam of your mouth.
A gasp is what allows you to pull away from Charles. Shock still clings to you, making your limbs stiff and your reaction delayed. His hand cradles your face even as you turn your head ever so slightly to gauge the damage.
And with the multiple pairs of eyes staring back at you, all with varying degrees of incredulity, you know there is no way for you to sweep this under the rug.
He gently turns your face back to him. A satisfied smile rests upon his mouth. Victory lurks behind his smile as he says, “Spring is a lovely time for a wedding, mon amour.”
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this fic is finished. there will never be a part 2. thanks!
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icarus-star · 9 months
Note
Hi its uhm me, could I please just have some FLUFF for Charlie. As an asexual I'm crying. No fluff of this man, please fix
Lots of love- Roran
fluffy relationship headcanons for charlie walker :3
a/n: tysm for the request, roran!! i 100% agree with you on there not being enough fluff for him, he's so squeezable. also, big warning for super ooc headcanons :P
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he absolutely loves physical touch!!
he'll always be holding your hand when your out somewhere together, but still too shy for anything more than that
he likes taking you to the movie theater, even if there arent any scary movies he wants to see
he goes just because he likes being there, it's his favorite place (and because he goes so often, he ain't got money for anything else lmfao 💔)
like, imagine deciding to go see the barbie movie bc there isn't really anything that he finds worth seeing,,, then some hours later y'all are leaving the theater n he's trying to act like he didn't like it
if you do see a movie together that neither of you end up liking, he'll whisper to you n try to get a couple sneaky kisses :3
and then y'all will bail on watching the movie and sit in his car in the parking lot contemplating why you decided to even see such a boring film
also movie nights at his house!!
sitting on his bed together, cuddled up underneath a blanket with some snacks n a movie playing on his laptop or something like that
he. really seems like a hot chocolate enjoyer, always has some on hand no matter what
more specifically, pumpkin spice flavored hot chocolate (please try it if you ever get the chance, it's so good)
he's a big halloween fan in general, cause of the horror movies and the entire idea of it. so anything reminiscent of autumn makes him happy
candy corn eater.
omg, when you two are alone, he will NOT take his hands off you!!
always trying to cuddle or kiss you, no matter what your doing
you could be working on something super important for school or whatever, and he would just be there, scooping you into his lap and resting his chin on your shoulder
bro does not care about being the big spoon or little spoon, just wants to be able to feel you
and either way, if you end up falling asleep, your just gonna be each other's blankets by the time you wakeup 🤷‍♂️
your limbs are legit knotted together
also, if your the type to get even a little scared after watching a horror movie, he will hug you so close n tight and let you know that nothings gonna happen and all that and it's so sweet 😭💕
he loooves when you run your fingers through his hair, especially if you let him lay his head on your thighs or chest
it makes him feel so comfy and safe
weezer is his top played artist on Spotify, i will never change my opinion on that. he's literally weezers number one fan
but probably also anything that would classify him as an absolute loser <3 (because he is)
sorry, but he probably reeks of axe body spray and red bulls 😖
but he's def the type to dance around with you to whatever music and just mess around together!!
a/n: im not good with writing fluff yet 😔 hope this was good <3
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squirmhoney · 1 year
Text
A Means to a Peaceful Holiday
A/N: Very much based on this. I went into so much detail with this one and have decided this will be a mini series sort of. Like each part connects but it's also smut with no plot so there will be no conclusion. Anyway this is pure filth but I think some of my better writing. At the start they are horrible to each other. It is supposed to be a back and forth thing not just one person being bullied. A mutual hatred. Also I don't know why I love modern holiday AUs, literally my favourite thing. Also, I've swapped ages so Aemond would be second oldest. Warnings: Dub con. Non con. (The reader takes enjoyment in it.) Incest. Degradation. Throat f*cking, oral (m and f receiving). P in v sex. Praising. Crying (slight). Over stimulation. Mention of somnophilia. (I hope i covered everything.) 18+ MDNI Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon! (Strong) Reader x Aemond Targaryen Word count: 4.6k
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"Fucking creep," Jace hissed, under his breath.
Your lips twitched up into a knowing smirk as you side eyed your younger brother. You took your seat next to him at the table, following his eye sight.
Of course, he was glaring at your Uncle Aemond, who was pouring himself a glass of wine. Aemond could feel the stare, gripping his wine glass tightly as he quipped, "Something wrong with your eye sight, nephew?"
"No," Jace snickered, taking a sip of his own drink. He leaned into towards you, whispering so only you could here. "But there's something wrong with his."
You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle your laughs as you looked over to Aemond.
From the other table, the parents were watching. How could they not, when this had been a constant problem since the first week of vacation. Constant bickering and insults being thrown, even full on fights being blown out at times. The whole situation was driving the parents to insanity.
"Jace and Y/N cut it out," Rhaneyera seethed, glaring at the pair of you. "Not tonight."
"What?" You giggled, shrugging your shoulders. "I didn't even say anything."
A few more seconds passed, the parents falling back into conversation.
Each end of the table glared at each other, only Rhaena and Halaena trying to keep the peace.
You grabbed your glass, taking another sip of wine only to find it empty. You stood up from your seat and sauntered over to the other side of the table. You grabbed the bottle of wine, only for Aemond to grab it holding it to the table.
"Can't share, Uncle?" You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. He let go of the bottle allowing you to pick it up and pour yourself a drink. Your tone was mocking as you shoved on the fake sweetness. "Thank you."
"I think you and your brother might of had a little too much to drink," Aegon pointed out, smiling up at you.
"You'd know all about that." You waltzed back to the other end of the table, slipping back into your seat.
"I'm just saying-"
Jace sharply cut Aegon off as he sneered at him. "Wait wasn't it you that had to be dragged out of a bush the other day, after passing out in your own vomit. Or am I thinking of someone else?"
You slapped a hand over your mouth, laugh pouring out of you. Luke was now joining in, practically choking on his food as he tried to keep it down.
"Fucking bastards," Aegon muttered, glaring down at his hands as they played with the table cloth.
Aemond's head perked up, leaning back in his seat. For once he wasn't the person to make the nasty comments after being riled up. This time he could watch the chaos unfold.
"What did you just fucking say?" You voice grew louder as you turned into a scowl.
"Want me to say it to your face, niece?" Aegon chuckled menacingly, raising his cup towards you.
"Say it again," Jace demanded, throwing himself up as he stormed over to Aegon.
You made your way over on the other side of the table, circling Aegon together. The parents in the table standing up ready to break the fight.
"Fucking Strong bastards," Aegon spat in Jace's face, waiting for Jace to make a strike.
"Twat," you screamed, throwing your drink across Aegon's face. A second later Aemond had your arms wrapped around you, yanking you towards his chest.
With his drink in your face, Aegon was distracted and within moments knocked to the side by your brother. Jace's fist had connected to Aegon's jaw and luckily, even in your wriggling, you had managed to see it.
The parents stopped you all now, Daemon standing between Aegon and Jace while Alicent gave Aemond a pointed glare to let you go.
"Cat caught your tongue, Aegon?" You laughed, pressing your lips together as to hold the rest of it in.
"Enough," Rhaneyera shouted, giving you a glare. "Y/N, go inside. I will deal with you last."
You rolled your eyes, walking back inside to the kitchen. From inside you could barely hear her and Alicent shouting, only see your brother and uncles cowering faces as they backed down.
Then Rhaneyera was storming your way, her face flushed red and a drink in her hand.
"I'm at a loss for words," Rhaneyera said, waving her hands around. "You are my oldest, Y/N. I expect you to make an example for your brothers. Not being the one to start the bickering between your uncles. And yet once again-"
"I know, I know." You looked down at the floor, face sinking as she told you off. You nibbled at your bottom lip, playing with your hands. "I'm sorry, mum. They just..." You looked up at her. "...aggravate me."
"Please just get along with them so the rest of us can have a peaceful holiday," Rhaneyera pleaded, taking a large gulp of her drink. "If you do it, I'm sure your brothers will fall behind."
"Fine," you grumbled, hating to see her so upset. "I'll try my best."
_
"Who's going to back my corner if you start being nice to them?" Jace questioned, throwing his hands in the air.
You had all gathered in the living room, a tv show playing in the background that none of you were really paying attention to.
"Baela, holds her own quite well," you stated, giving a nod to Baela who was sat opposite.
Luke chimed in then and they all started going off. Rhaena was the only person to try and get them to settle down, Halaena also backing her corner.
"Look I said I'll try," you said, standing up. Your hands rubbed your eyes as you started to make your way towards the patio doors. "We will just see how well it goes."
"You going to bed?" Jace gave you a small frown, not being able to bare the thought. "I hate it when you have to go over there."
"It's fine." You gave him a grin. "I'm sure the creeps are in bed."
You waved them bye, walking outside as you made your way to the converted stables outside. It was where you resided for most of the holiday vacations, unfortunately it was also where Aemond and Aegon shared a large room. All three of you being the oldest meant that you were trusted to stay there.
It wasn't so bad, most of the time the boys kept to themselves and the whole space was actually quite spectacular. You shared a large bathroom with them and hardly ever fought about it. The only thing that really triggered you was when Aegon would leave his clothes lying about or that cum stained towel you had found once.
When you walked in, you weren't surprised to see Aemond wondering about. But the sight of him caught you off guard slightly, making your skin crawl.
"Are you always creeping about somewhere or do you actually have something more entertaining to do with your life?" You remarked at him, looking up at him from your phone as you walked to your room.
"Charming." Aemond shook his head, walking into the other direction.
Gods, he despised your very being. You were an incredibly annoying brat, that seemed to get away with everything.
His fist was clenched by his sides as he made it into his shared room with Aegon, the rage pouring off of him.
"I'm guessing the frigid bitch just got in," Aegon snarled, staring up at his brother. He had an ice pack pressed to his face. "Because you look pissed."
"She's such a brat." Aemond paced the room, being driven mad by the thought of you. "She just walks around like she owns the place and they all love her for it."
"We could do something about it."
"Right."
"No, seriously." Aegon was smirking at the indecent thought that he had been mauling over for days.
Aemond's eye peeled up off the ground to look at him, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"
"You're l going to love this idea. It is what the bastard child deserves." Aegon stood up, snickering as he leaned into his brother. "Let's just say no one will be able to hear her scream from here."
You were sprawled on your bed, scrolling on your phone when Aemond and Aegon both stormed in. Only dressed in your robe, with your underwear underneath. Your eyes squinted at them, mouth agape in slightly disbelief at how they'd just walk in.
"What are you doing?" You questioned, with an assertive tone. "Get the fuck out of my room."
It happened so rapidly, Aemond wrapped his hand around your ankle, yanking you towards the end of the bed. You kicked at him, fear instantly sinking into your body as you fought against him.
"Seriously, guys this isn't funny," you shouted, your voice growing shaky. "Get the fuck off of me."
Being so distracted by Aemond trying to pin down your legs, you hadn't even realised Aegon had crawled on the bed behind you. Not until his hands ripped away at your robe, both your uncle's eyes lighting up as they noticed your attire, red lace underwear.
"Well this a surprise," Aegon admitted, hands trying to pin your arms down as you smacked and clawed at him. "Who knew such a frigid bitch would own such enticing underwear? Who's fucking you, niece?"
"Not fucking you, I can tell you that," you swore, legs and arms growing tired from fighting against them.
"We will see about that," Aemond chuckled menacingly, smirking up at you. "Flip her over."
As they did, Aegon pushed your head down onto the mattress, liking the way your hands struggled against him. While, Aemond's hands grazed the subtle smooth skin of your ass before he smacked it. His rings imprinted on the skin as he repeated his actions, humming as he watched your ass jiggle for him.
They completely overpowered you, tying your hands behind your back only to flip you back round. Tears brimmed your eyes as you screamed at them, your throat hurting from making all that noise. But you couldn't just stop and let this all happen... could you?
Aegon shoved himself on your lips, kissing you with a furious passion that you tried to resist. You protested against his mouth before biting down on his lip harshly, the taste of blood sitting on the tip of your tongue.
His eyes widened, an anger settling into his bones at your resistance. You really were your mother's daughter. Then you looked up at him with a bright smirk and all Aegon saw was red, his hand coming down to connect with your face in harsh slap. You gasped, wincing at the pain as your face dropped as you looked back at him.
It was Aegon's turn to smirk. "Maybe we will have matching bruises."
On the other end of the bed, Aemond had your legs pinned down with your knees up against your rib cage. His fingers grazed against your skin as his head reached down to your clothed cunt. You were completely on edge, flinching every time his breath fanned against it. He pressed a soft kiss against the material, then stuck his tongue out to lick a long stripe against it.
"I think she likes that brother," Aegon teased, noticing the breath that caught in your throat.
Aemond's eyes flickered up to you, staring at you as his fingers dipped underneath the material. His fingers stroked down your folds, flicking your clit and reaching down to your entrance. He felt how wet you were for him, your thongs completely ruined by it.
"You make me sick," you said in a toneless voice, not wanting to let on how much you were truly enjoying it.
"That's why you're so wet." Aemond smirked, fingers intruding your entrance. You tried to crawl away, a light gasp leaving your mouth. "Not so strong now without your brothers to back you."
Aemond tore at your thong, snapping at the elastic as he ripped it off your body. His hand reached down, slapping your cunt as he smirked up at you. Each time the top of his fingers hit against your clit in a punishing way, your pussy would clench down for relief, oozing with wetness.
Aegon brought his lips up to yours, his hand slipping down your chest as he reached your bra. You didn't fight him in the kiss but it wasn't reciprocated but as his tongue slipped in your mouth, you felt like you were fighting more against yourself to not give in.
Eventually Aegon pulled away from your lips, growing bored of just kissing you. "You know that if you weren't such a brat, we wouldn't have to do this." He nibbled at your plump limp as he glared at you. "But then again, I guess that's why you do it you know. Not getting any action at home, you just need a good fuck."
He hovered further down, his chest above your face as he reached his own head down to your tits. His hands slipped in, yanking the material up so he could grope at your tits. Gods, he loved how full they were, how his hands could barely cover them as he held them. His fingers pinched at the nipples, eliciting a small whine from you as he did.
"I've always wanted to do this. You don't know how many times I fucking got off to the thought of fucking your tits." His mouth latched onto one of your nipples sucking on it while his other hand kept working on your other tit.
You had to bite against your cheek to stop yourself from moaning. Gods, you wanted to scream for them to stop but everything about it felt so good. You had never met a man that had ever got close to making you feel this good.
Aemond brought his mouth down to your clit, humming in delight as he tasted your juices. It was definitely a sin for someone to taste this good, and even worse that it was his niece. He wanted to rest here all night if he could, his tongue exploring your cunt until you were overworked to the point where all you could do was cry as another orgasm took your body.
Every little touch had you dripping onto his fingers, meaning each time they pushed back into your hole there'd be a squelching sound from how wet you were. His hands relaxed against your legs, bringing them down to wrap around his shoulders. His head delved in deeper, sucking onto your clit now. He pushed in a third finger, smirking at the way you winced at the painful intrusion as he shoved them into you.
"Brother is too nice," Aegon whispered, your nipple still in his mouth. "I think we should of fucked you and be done with it. I mean why should you be prepared for this? Why should we let you cum?"
Something in you wanted to apologise, beg for that sweet release that Aemond was so easily pulling from you. But your mind fought against you not to do it.
"Fuck, fuck," you repeated, whimpering as you felt yourself on the brink of an orgasm.
Your thighs shut around Aemond's head as if to keep him buried there and he didn't even protest it. Instead, his free hand wrapped around your thick thigh, gripping at it harshly as he pulled it closer to your face. Your hips arched up into his face, something snapping inside you as your orgasm washed over you. You couldn't help but moan as your cunt pulsated around Aemond's fingers.
Once he was finished, your thighs relaxed opening for him. However, Aemond didn't want to finish, his tongue now lapping up all the juices as his fingers pulled out of your hole. For a moment you actually believed he'd go at it again until he rested his head against your thigh, fingers still flicking at your over sensitive clit.
"Aemond," Aegon grunted, snapping his brother up. "You can enjoy her cunt later." Aegon hovered back over to your face, pressing sweet kisses to your tear stained cheeks. "You see if Aemond could have it his way, he'd probably sit between those plush thighs all night." He leaned in further, his tone rough as he spoke. "If I had it my way, I wouldn't of even prepared you as I took you. But your pussy would be so tight, that I wouldn't care."
They flipped you over again, only giving you a second to register the filth that had just left Aegon's mouth. It was bad that you wanted it to happen, in a sick way you wouldn't of minded if he had taken you without preparation. At some point your pussy would drip from your own enjoyment of it, that it wouldn't feel so painful. Oh, but you'd enjoy the pain.
You had your ass in the air for Aemond now, face planted against the sheets. You could already hear the clothes falling to the floor as the boys undressed themselves. A shiver ran down your spine as you waited for them to make their next move.
It was the sharp touch of Aemond's hand slapping against your bruised cheeks that you felt first. Laughing as he repeated his actions only against your cunt. You winced at the feeling, squeezing your eyes shut as he did it again.
"Can't wait to sink myself deep into this pussy," Aemond hummed, prodding his tip now against your entrance. He dragged it along your folds, coating his cock in your slick. He pressed his tip in slightly, liking the way your breath catch in your throat as he did, only to pull back out.
"Hurry the fuck up," Aegon commanded, growing impatient by the minute. From your position, you could see him palming himself through his boxers. His hard on clearly evident as it boxers clung to it.
"I like teasing her," Aemond confessed, resting the tip of his cock against your entrance. "I like to hear those pretty noises escape her mouth. She wants to deny how much she is truly enjoying this."
"You're delusional," you snapped.
Aemond shoved himself in your cunt, making you gasp at the suddenness of it all. He pulled himself back out laughing at your reaction. "What did you say?" He pushed himself back in, cutting you off from saying anything. "By the time I'm done with you, you're going to have every pretty little thought leave that brain of yours."
It was probably true, you mind was already slipping into bliss as he started to fuck into you. He was making sure to set an agonisingly slow pace, having you practically shove your hips back to meet his.
"Please, oh fuck," you moaned, trying to get him to go faster as he rutted his hips against yours.
Aegon's eyes widened at your reaction, not expecting your demeanour to fall apart so soon. "What do we have here?" He grabbed a hold of your face, fingers pinching into your cheeks. "We have a fucking beggar." He shoved a kiss on your lips, sinking his tongue into your mouth as he explored. You even reciprocated slightly, not fully able to as you moaned into his mouth. "I knew you'd cave eventually but this quick."
Aemond groaned as he started to pound into you, hips rutting against yours at a rapid pace. You were sure you wouldn't last long, Aemond's cock hitting so deeply inside of you. With each thrust you felt your stomach getting tighter.
"You know this pretty mouth of yours is so good at coming up with snide remarks, I do wonder what else it is good for?" Aegon patted his fingers against your lips, moving away from you slightly as his hand reached into his boxers. "Let's find out shall we."
You closed your lips shut tightly as he pulled it out. His erection practically staring at you as he rubbed the tip against your face, the precum that leaked from the tip coating your puffy lips.
"Open your mouth." You did, allowing the intrusion as he slipped it inside. He groaned at the feeling, your mouth being so wet and warm from him he could only imagine what your cunt would feel like. "Good girl." You twirled your tongue around, sucking on it as he sunk it in deeper.
Of course, Aegon wanted more. His hand wrapping into your black locks as he pushed himself in. You would gag instantly, choking on his dick as he fucked it into your throat. The noises that were coming from your mouth as you moaned against his dick were music to his ears.
He'd pull out, allowing to catch some air while he mocked you. "You're not finding us funny now, are you?" He pushed it back in again, any words now vibrating against his cock. "Definitely can't laugh with my cock down your throat." He'd moan as he continued, loving the way your tongue would swirl around him or the way you hollowed out his cheeks to tightly suck him.
But Aegon had to pull out eventually, knowing that if he kept going he would be cumming down your throat in no time and Aegon wanted to cum in your walls for the first time. He would paint your pretty face later, he thought. Staring at you intently as saliva connected from your mouth to his dick. The sight of you making him feel like he could cum right then and there.
Aemond was groaning at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him whole. He could sense how close you were to the edge as he snapped his hips into you at a relentless pace. His hands grabbed onto the cheeks of your ass, watching as it bounced against his cock.
"I want you to beg," Aemond grunted, reaching his hand between you as his fingers found your clit. "Beg or I won’t let you cum."
You were speechless at his words still gazing up at Aegon.
"You heard my brother," Aegon said, hands wrapping slightly around your throat. "Beg."
"Please, Aemond," you pleaded, feeling your walls flutter around him. "Please, Aemond. I want to cum so bad, please let me cum."
"Good girl," Aemond praised, fingers now moving against your clit.
There was no warning this time as your orgasm hit you at full force, leaving you a crying whimpering mess. Your cunt clenched around Aemond for dear life, milking him of his cum as he came undone on top of you. He spilt inside of you, coating you walls as he continued to pound into your cunt.
"Move," Aegon demanded, glaring at Aemond. You could feel him unwrapping the ties behind your back, letting you go free. "I doubt you're not going to be a nuisance anymore."
Aemond pulled out of you, the cum leaking out of you made you clench to try and keep it in. You felt your ragged breath start to go back to normal as you rested.
However, it wouldn't be for long as Aegon flipped you over with ease. Allowing you to look at him as you laid down on your back. He worked quickly, placing your legs against his chest as he shoved his cock inside you without hesitation.
While both of your Uncle's were big in size, they were different. Aemond was long, reaching places you didn't even know existed. Aegon was thick, a lot of girth, making you feel full as you felt every ridge of him in your spongy walls.
Aemond walked over to you, wiping you face gently with your bed sheets. Then he kissed you, yanking you toward him by his hair as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. You could taste yourself on him still, tongue working against his as your hands pulled him in. He tore himself away, already becoming hard again at the thought of being inside you again.
"I do wish your brother could see you now," Aemond mocked, hands sliding down to your chest. "I don't think he'd find it funny as we took you over and over again like the dirty slut you are."
Aegon laughed in agreement, sinking deeper into your walls. "But is she a slut though brother?" Your head shifted to look up at him as he spoke. "This pussy is so tight that it could only belong to such a frigid bitch like our niece."
They were both smirking at this and the pure torture of it all was starting to send you into over drive. You could barely think as your walls clenched around Aegon's girth. Not even realising as Aemond's lips slid down your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He started sucking on the skin, nibbling slightly until he left a mark, then he'd move an inch away before repeating his actions.
"I don't think your brothers will be impressed at the sight of you tomorrow," Aemond taunted, fingers pinching at your nipples. "Covered in our marks."
"We could say that you snuck out and finally got laid," Aegon added, fingers grazing the skin of your thigh. He pushed your legs down, your feet by your head as he pressed his body against yours. "Or we could tell them the truth and say that our bratty niece just needed our attention."
Aegon pulled your bra off, placing your hands down at the top of the bed. His lips hovered over yours as you whimpered against his skin. His hands slipped into yours and you gripped around them tightly, letting it ground you a bit better.
The feel of him slamming into your walls was too much, your body so sensitive from the onslaught they had already done. Especially with this new angle Aegon was bottoming out underneath you, you couldn't feel anything but him.
"You look so content on my cock," Aegon moaned, lips brushing against yours. His stare was so intense as he pressed his forehead against yours. "Does this make you feel good, Y/N?"
"Yes," you breathed out, voice turning into more of a whine as his thrusts pushed you closer to another orgasm. "Yes, you make me feel good."
Those noises that rolled off your tongue was sending Aegon to the edge. His lips smashed onto yours for a second before he felt your cunt squeeze him for dear life. "Don't close your eyes, I want to see you cum around my cock."
You could barely keep your eyes open as you gazed back up at Aegon, cumming around his cock. You only kept them open for him, wanting to please him in the moment. The whole thing had you moaning his name onto his lips, unable to keep it together as your legs trembled around him. He came soon after, cum squirting in your walls as he continued his relentless pace.
"I promise I'll cum on these pretty little lips next time," Aegon said.
The words had you clenching around him again, wanting to hold onto him for a bit longer as he slowed down. But he soon pulled out, collapsing beside you as he caught his breath.
Your eyes started to close out of pure exhaustion, feeling your body wanting to just shut down after all of it. But they weren't going to let you do that yet. Aemond climbed on top of you, pushing his cock inside you as he wrapped an arm around your back. He helped switch your positions, pulling you on top of him with his cock buried deep inside of you.
You gasped at the sudden intrusion, arms wrapping around Aemond's shoulders as you pressed your chest to his.
"You didn't think we were done with you yet," Aemond hissed, rutting his upwards into your cunt. "We will be fucking you until we get bored. Even if you do pass out during it."
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Also if you don't want to be tagged in fics with pairing Aegon x R x Aemond, please do message me I completely understand and I'll just keep you only to your desired pairing.
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W/c: 2.2k Pairing: Dom fem Reader x Sub P.Bateman Includes: PLEASE READ!!! Dubcon, very dominant reader, physical assault, blood play, blood drinking, scratching, degradation, riding, p in v, dacryphilia, choking/breath play, Patrick is into it but only slightly admits to it at the end, therapeutic sex? If that’s a thing? ‘I/My/Mine’ pronouns for reader.
A/n: First of all, always read tags, but I mean it this time! This is very intense but I had a LOT of fun writing it. I’ve read the book, and I can assure you he’s an insecure slut, and he’s so babygirl. Need I remind you, INTENSE. If you don’t like it don’t read it. That’s on you. No minors. Have fun~
My fist came down sharp across his face. I reveled in the electric contact stinging my knuckles as the hook of my arm drew away. What I savored even more was the pained, groggy gasp Bateman emitted, his head lolling to the side with the motion of my punch before snapping back, and his half-lidded eyes meeting my gleeful, anticipatory ones.
He made a movement like gritty biting to fix his jaw back into place, the grotesque crunch causing his expression to sour.
“I bet that hurts, doesn’t it?” I teased, loosening his tie with two fingers, curling them upwards suggestively with a coy smile. His face stayed stone cold and annoyed, but there was something behind his eyes. Like the poised stature of a scared rabbit preparing to dart off. The threat of adrenaline. It pulsated, alive and steady. I could stare into those eyes for hours. I could claw them out with the edges of my nails, ruining them.
Beauty is only that when it’s temporary. And Patrick is beautiful. With a swift tug, his tie was thrown somewhere far beyond my peripheral vision. Beyond my care.
“I’m pleasantly surprised you haven’t told or forced me to stop yet. Either you’re secretly into this or you have some insecurity about dignity…seeing what you can take,” I mused as I undid the buttons of his shirt meticulously, adding in a whisper, “whichever one it is, it’s absolutely pathetic. I find it adorable.”
The farther I got down, the more I could sense his restraints heightening. I couldn’t sense his breathing getting faster, nor as in feel it from where I was straddling him or hear it from where I was bent over his chest, but rather knew it. Call it intuition.
For my enjoyment, I didn’t undo the last button, I simply ripped it open, ruining some of the stitching in the process. Patrick yelped.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he hissed, more solemnly than with bite.
“Physically or financially? Because I don’t see you making any moves to get me off of you.”
“That was Versace.” He mumbled from somewhere low, and went silent again, save for a few small noises while I stripped the shirt off his arms and out from underneath him. I rewarded it with the same discarded fate of the tie into the abyss behind me.
I splayed my hands across his abdomen. So warm…so humanly warm. If I didn’t have any self-control I would slice him open from every vantage point I had. He is just so perfect.
“Maybe one of these days I’ll eat you alive,” I said, turning my attention towards removing his pants. He made a brief, inaudible high-pitched sound. It caused me to smile.
With a tug and a toss, I had him. He was as good as a cornered mouse. He looked like it, too, eyes boring into mine, alert and unsteady. I bared my hypothetical fangs at him in an open-lipped grin. His eyes darted away, off to the side as if in humiliation.
“You do maintain your physique quite well for me, Bateman.” I complimented, letting my eyes run wild around his almost exposed body, except for his silk boxers. Of course they were silk.
I removed my robe-the only thing I was wearing-while examining the man before me. This seemed to grab his interest, his own eyes making their journey across my flesh. I do have my own insecurities, as an unspoken custom to any person, but I relished the way Patrick looked at me. He was intimidated. What a pretty response.
I hoisted myself, in my straddle position, just a bit higher up his body so I was sitting on his abdomen. Just an inch or so closer to his face.
Without any warning, I punched him again, this time with my non-dominant hand. The bliss of it all consumed me again. The contact, the thrum of my veins and his, the sound, in all its harshness. I could’ve orgasmed right then and there. I suppressed a pleasured moan when Patrick coughed and whimpered. When his head returned to look at me again, I was ecstatic to see I had drawn blood in his mouth.
“Fu-uck…fuck!” He groaned. Maybe he bit down too hard on his tongue, maybe the clash of teeth caused one to loosen. Excitement coursed through me as I leaned down to kiss him, eager to figure out just how I had demolished the insides of his mouth.
It was open-lipped and I spent no foreplay before pushing my tongue in. For the first time that night, I moaned with a newfound wanton fervor. I tasted blood. His blood on my tongue. Even though my eyes were closed, I felt as if rolling them back into my head. As I drank in his flavor disguised in hurried kisses, I spent careful notice on the heartbeat deeper in my body. Need. Heat. Something beyond craving.
I desired to kiss him longer, to enjoy the blood I drew for myself, like wine from a vineyard, but my body demanded he be inside it.
The need almost hurt, I admit. I sat up, smiling down at him benevolently, and pushed back and over his groin. I can’t say I was surprised to feel he was desperately hard. I almost felt bad. I tsk-ed with pity. Teasingly.
“Fuck, Bateman, you’re hard,” I muttered, observing the obvious and licking my teeth for any remaining blood, like going in for seconds after a decadant meal. I palmed the intrusion through his clothes, biting my lip when he moaned. I wish I had a keener ear. I wanted to transcribe that onto a sheet of music. To play it for myself every night. Feeling each note under my fingers on the piano. Feeling his vocal chords.
I looked up at his expression, and decided I would’ve titled the music ‘ruin’, for his eyes sprang tears, blood pooled from his mouth, a vague bruise blossomed on the side of his face. Yes. He was ruined.
I cursed something holy and beautiful under my breath as I hooked my finger in the waistband, eyes glancing up to him to note his submissive expression. His cheeks were red. Flushed from my assault or the obvious situation at hand, I didn’t know, but I assumed both.
I pulled it down. Away. Off his ankles. And there he was, ready however I would take him.
I sucked in a harsh breath, either of my hands coming up and digging into the tissue of his thighs, my nails just barely piercing his flesh. Much to my enjoyment, he made a pained sob as I drew blood from one point where my fingernail was pressed just hard enough to do so. I grit my teeth to maintain some composure.
A small amount of blood coalesced under my right hand, where, as aforementioned, my fingers dug into his thighs. I grinded myself against his other leg to satiate me in the meanwhile as I bent down and licked the blood from his left one.
Y’know those conversation starters, that go something along the lines of ‘if you had to drink one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be’? I have a new answer, thanks to the events detailed. His blood was orgasmically fantastic in my mouth. It’s like it was made to go there. To be devoured by me. To take it for my own.
“Oh, fuck, Bateman,” I droned, lips shiny with his blood, a trickle down my chin. I sat up, and the sight before me was heavenly.
The slut was leaking precum. From me drinking his blood. And his face-Christ, his face-I can still see it when I close my eyes. Even more tears glimmered around his groggy eyes, drunk on me, blood from before still on his pretty lips. He was painfully red elsewhere, too. I felt self-gratified knowing he was likely agonizing over how hard he was. Fighting to not just cum without any contact whatsoever. That made me fucking throb, and I’m not embarrassed to say that.
Equanimity be damned. I practically threw any leftover poise I had behind me like I did his clothes.
I licked up the still bleeding wound on his thigh again, but I dragged my tongue up and onto his burning erection this time. He seized. Spasmed at the contact.
He moaned so despairingly I honestly can still hear it reverberating in my head. I, in turn, moaned as well. I kept moving my tongue, focusing on a vein I found, exploring its edges and curves. His precum went well with his blood, a good flavor combination I made a mental note to try again at a later time.
I needed our bodies close so badly. Together. To take him inside my body, permanently instating him as mine, and a physical part of me. So I sat back up, still straddling his leg, and hoisted both of mine over to lock him in place. I steadied my breath. I had appearances to maintain. I slid myself up, and finally, down.
He gasped. I gasped, too, but made an effort to suppress it. He felt…I don’t know if there’s really a word for it. Incredible will suffice.
“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, beginning to thrust up and down upon him.
“I-I-“ He replied, per say. His voice was battered and broken.
“Ugh, speak up,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. Half from pleasure half from feigned frustration.
“Yea…yeah…” Patrick finally sighed. All vulnerable. Defenses crumbled. Mine to pillage and desecrate.
“Slut,” I chuckled, barely audible. I knew he heard it by the way he choked out a sob. That sparked in me a deviously brilliant idea.
Still with him inside me, I careened down just enough to wrap both my hands around his throat. With each thrust, I applied more and more pressure to my grip around his throat. Soon he sputtered and coughed, chest heaving as he tried to breathe through his bloodied nose. His eyes were off somewhere distant-like an animal looking at something not there. A ghost. Maybe it was the ghost of who he was before I ruined his facade, tore it down to pieces. Evaporating from his body as he fought for air. I moaned.
From this position, me leaning down, he hit a spot that felt just right. My knees felt weak upon their own accord.
He tried to grab my arms, as if making a move to pry them away. I wouldn’t be having that. I slid my thumbs down to the dip of his windpipe in a silent threat, and he instantly dropped his hands, making the correct and logical choice.
I toyed with him a little, abusing my power over him. I loosened my grasp on his neck completely, letting him get in one shaky, anguished gasp, and then clamped back down again. Upon doing so, he bucked his hips up, consequently getting deeper inside.
I laughed with joyous disbelief. “You-you like being choked? You’re getting off on it?” I guffawed in hilarity from the situation at hand. No pun intended. “What-is it…don’t tell me it’s gonna make you cum, now. That would be mortifying for you.”
“I-I’m-“ he writhed.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”
He shook his head meekly. That, or trembled.
“Well hold on, if you would be so kind. I’m get-fuck-I’m getting about there too, but…we wouldn’t want you to become all overstimulated, would we?” I broke out into a broader, toothy grin, “I don’t want you to get hurt, Bateman.”
He whined and whimpered, as if wounded. Which he was. I picked up my pace, managing to rub my clit on his groin every now and again, groaning each time I did so.
Finally. Now I was ready.
“Alright. Whatever. You can cum.” I muttered, syllables asunder, half to myself and half to him. I bared my teeth and growled lowly as I came, mentally releasing something spike-edged and dark in my mind that had been plaguing me for a while. Like admitting something deep to a therapist. I needed this like a salaryman a vacation. Throughout this, I didn’t stop, making Patrick follow rapidly, breathing with loud groans and short, pathetic wails when he came. I had a feeling this release meant something more to him, too. A letting go. Literally.
Eventually, I slowed and gently peeled my hands away from his throat. His inhales were deep and steady, exhales shaky. I pulled off and everything about him went limp, coping with the events. I chuckled inaudibly. I swung my legs off and over the bed, standing up and headed towards the bathroom. I heard no commotion from his room, and after cleaning myself off, I emerged to see him unmoved except for the rising and falling of his chest. I fetched my robe from its crumpled spot on the ground, lithely wrapping it back around me. I went to leave to the kitchen to grab myself a snack, but paused in the doorframe
“Water? Tea?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Are you alive?”
He nodded.
“You’re sure?”
Nodding.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
Very enthusiastic nodding.
I smiled to myself as I left to raid his fridge.
-
End
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If you made it this far you’re messed up and I love you and we should get married. Repost and comment if you feel inclined.
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rubye402 · 4 months
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Happy Holidays to everyone! Huge shout out to @portal-secret-santa as always for being EXTREMELY patient with me as I fail to get my prompts again this year (We figured out WHY and shouldn't have problems anymore, but WOW it took a bit to figure it out.)
Anyways. My person is @radioproto ! A fellow Wheatley enjoyer! Sorry if this is too non specific, I looked through the blog but still had NO idea what to do aside from just an X Reader. I mean, I did include Fact just so you technically had both in one present...? So hopefully a present for you and the rest of the fellow Wheat kissers is good enough!
Also, here's an AO3 version!
Mistletoe Mayhap (Wheatley X GN!Reader)
Note: Does NOT include "Y/N" or talking for Reader, with minimal responses or descriptions for the sake of immersion.
Word Count: 1,213
“Sorry- You want to hang up a MISSILE?” Wheatley gawked. Well, as much as a core could, anyways. Fact sighed, optics pinching shut with a small clink of metal.
“MistleTOE, Wheatley. The plant?” He opened the lower plate, barely looking up to meet the blue optic of the fellow core.
“Plant? Mate, we have an entire tree! Threw lights and small little trinkets all over its branches, PLUS that star thing on top. Spacey was EXTREMELY excited on that one. WOULD NOT stop talking about it so I'm FAIRLY certain-” Wheatley paused when he heard one of the claws the cores were using to decorate picking up something, and Fact held up a plant book of some kind, page turned to a small bushel of plants. Two words stood out in the center of the page, indicating what the said plants were. "Holly" and "Mistletoe."
“These.” Fact spoke up.
“Ah.” Wheatley squinted, trying to stretch his optic slightly to see. He read the description of Mistletoe. “OK… "Scientifically called" blah blah blah… "More commonly called Mistletoe… Poisonous plant when consumed," that's grim for… "A holiday staple?" Really? "Traditionally hung up from the ceiling, and when two people are under it…"” Wheatley suddenly wheeled back on his railing, immediately feeling like his processor was heating up, and his fans whirred to life to cool him down.
“I figured you would like an excuse.” Fact set the book back and closed it as he just rolled his eye.
“An excuse for wot?”
“Kissing a certain test subject. You know who.” Fact looked over at Wheatley as he said that. The fans kicked up another notch. “I figured that if you weren't going to say something, out of whatever fears you have, that it would give you an excuse if they didn't reciprocate. Play it off as just a traditional thing and cut your losses.”
“Wh- Hey! Do you SERIOUSLY think they're going to reject me?!” Wheatley defended. Then thought about it a moment longer, handles faltering as he clarified. “...Would they actually, you think?”
“I never said that.” Fact glanced over as he grabbed a plant, assumedly the one in question, and handed it over to Wheatley. Doing so in an underhanded motion just so he didn't hold it above him and Wheatley. “I'm entirely neutral to whether or not you two work out, I was merely offering a way for you to try to find out if they DO like you, that gives you an easy out if they DON'T.”
“...Huh.” Was all Wheatley could muster. He looked at the plant… Then slid off on his railing to find somewhere to hang it.
It wasn't a big party. It was only two other cores, the two testing robots, GLaDOS, the companion cube as a VIP, and both Fact and Wheatley. Oh, but mostly some turrets facing away from the door and "talking" amongst themselves, and someone thankfully had the foresight to mark out where they'd not only be put, but where their eyesight ended. That was for the last guest. 
A certain test subject that had to equally watch their steps around the turrets, much like P-Body and Atlas, who were currently dancing to the holiday tunes newly coded into the radio, curtsy of GLaDOS, much like the fruitcake on the table. It was just a fake decoration since nobody could eat, but it was decoration for any other human Christmas party too, so it was fine.
Wheatley watched as they entered from his corner of the room. It was one end of the table that had the fake fruitcake, that wasn't near any of the turrets, GLaDOS was on the other end, and most importantly, had the mistletoe hanging on the ceiling above him. He just flexed his handle up and down as he nervously waited for them. Mercifully, it didn't take long for them to walk over to talk to him.
“Oh-Oh! Ello! Happy holidays, luv.” Wheatley's smile was obvious through his voice as he spoke. They regarded him with a grin and nod. “So uh, this might take you for a shock, you'll wanna hear this. Me and Fact over there, yeah? Pink optic guy? Decorated this whole space! By ourselves. Managed to set everything up! Well uh, not the fruitcake though. SHE did that one, not sure why though THAT'S decoration...” The test subject still looked around the room and did some small claps for him. “Hm-? Oh! Thank you! Glad you seem to like it then. That 's all… Accurate and things. Being honest, cards on the table, Fact definitely manages to gather up how to decorate this place properly like humans very well. Nicely done, all in a good day's work on his part. And-And myself of course. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I DO want to give myself SOME credit, y'know?”
Then they glanced up, spotting the plant. Here it goes…
“What's uh- What's that you spot?” Wheatley looked up, feigning surprise as best he could. “Ooooohhh… Look at that! That's that mistletoe thing, yeah? Isn't that rather-”
“...Wheatley, that's Holly.” Fact piped up, rolling over to them.
“Wot?” Wheatley turned to him.
“Holly has the pointed leaves and red berries. MISTLETOE has smooth leaves and white berries.”
“...Ah. I- hm. I seem to have gotten my plants mixed up.” He glanced over at the tester muffling a laugh. “Not! Y'know ENTIRELY my fault. I read up on this FAIRLY well, and in everything I saw they seemed PRET-TY sure the thing was spiky and-and RED. Very BRIGHT shade of red, might I add.”
“Fact: That is a bold face lie-”
“And here's a fact: YOU handed that plant to me.” He growled out.
“I thought the ONE BOOK I showed you said it was Holly.”
“There were TWO ENTRIES in the middle! How was I supposed to know which one was what?!”
“It DESCRIBED what the plant looked like!”
“Well! That's…! Good to know!” Wheatley huffed. Fact just groaned and rolled away.
“...So uh. Egg on my face, I guess. Yeah… Yeah I hung it up. Caught red handed, so to speak. Red handled, for me and my case I guess?” Wheatley dryly laughed, fans whirring more obviously as he lowered his railing down to them. “I uh… I guess what I was trying to do is… Not exactly a secret anymore. I uh, wouldn't exactly BLAME you if-if you don't want to. Especially seeing as it's not ACTUALLY mistletoe- Ah!”
Wheatley paused as the bottom panel of his optic got a kiss pressed up against it.
Oh. Oh they were anyways.
Wheatley took care that he actually stayed quiet. Kisses meant no talking, right? So he just, gently shut his eye, pressing his optic into it, to reciprocate as best he could. 
When it ended, he felt the world around him almost melting away as he just focused on them.
“Oh WOW. So uh. So that's a kiss. Yeah, I can see why humans like it so much, feels nice, makes you all warm. In a good way. VERY very good way. Not complaining one bit about that. In fact uh. Could I have another?”
With their nod, Wheatley shut his eye, and felt a now familiar press into said optic.
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genericpuff · 10 months
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I always enjoyed reading LO, though as of late I've gotten more critical of it and aware of the flaws in storytelling, art, pacing, etc (one can still like trash while recognizing it's trash, I guess), and it's been super weird being the only one in my friend group who's not seeing it as this perfect flawless comic anymore. Your retelling so far has been super refreshing and a joy to read, the art and character design is recognizable yet distinct and great on its own (I LOVE YOUR DIONYSUS SO MUCH HOLY CRAP HE'S SO GOOD), and like... I'm interested in where things are going! It's fun reading this! I still do enjoy LO (maybe it's the sunk cost fallacy, idk), but I'm invested in your version so much more now. So thank you for your work, it's really great :)
I know the story is focused more on H&P than the mostly cast of side characters, but are there any other myths that might get revisited as well? Eros/Psyche, maybe Ariadne since Dio is here...?
Absolutely, I say it a lot when the topic of "LO stans vs. LO critics" comes up but none of the criticism is meant to be persuasive debating, while it can be frustrating to voice our criticisms and be met with "yeah well that's just your opinion", we're also not criticizing the comic purely to convince you that it's trash, we're legit just engaging with the comic in our own way. The best way any LO fan can react to it is either to acknowledge the criticisms and move on, or not go out actively seeking the criticism in the first place if it's something that bugs them. But in the end, no one is talking about the comic in this way as a means to strong arm people into riffing on LO, we'll still be talking about it way past everyone's bedtimes regardless of whether or not you chime in and/or agree. I think a lot of people who enjoy LO have a hard time separating those two things because they love the comic so much that any criticism is automatically flagged as "they're trying to make a hater out of me". And yeah, maybe we are a little bit (because it's fun to riff on this comic and the crit community has genuinely some of the nicest and funniest and most creative people I've ever met) but for the most part it's not our goal to make you hate the comic, we can't take your enjoyment of it away from you, even if you do recognize its flaws yourself. By all means, enjoy LO if you want to, we won't try and tell you not to! Just don't think that gives you permission to tell the critics to stop criticizing because that's a double standard we just ain't gonna stand for LMAO
All that aside, I'm glad you're enjoying Rekindled! As for the other stories, I'm trying to reel in Rekindled's plot to focus solely on H x P because I feel like that's what it should have stayed as. One of Rachel's biggest mistakes IMO was when she stated she "wanted to include as many myths as possible" because it's clear it's resulted in her prioritizing low effort Google-level lip service and Marvel-esque nostalgia referencing over telling an actual cohesive story. I'm taking a lot of the additional myths that Rachel tried to do in LO and leaving them on the cutting room floor, but when Rekindled is done, I'm hoping to pick up what was discarded and do them as little side stories after the fact. I feel like that's the best way to do it especially considering so many of the myths Rachel included didn't happen until after Hades and Persephone were married (including Eros and Psyche). I'd especially love to tackle Orpheus and Eurydice, it's one of my favorite myths :) Dio x Ariadne is also one I'm hoping to tackle, though that one I'll probably work more into Rekindled itself as Dio plays a huge role in Persephone's character arc, we'll see !
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momolady · 2 years
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Commissions are now open to the public! Slots available for August, September, and October!
From now on all commission inquiries will be handled via email. That brand new email is [email protected]. Below is a format I wish you to follow so that the commission you want is assured, and I will have all information needed in order to complete the job easily, smoothly, and stress free. If further discussions are needed, we can do so via discord.
My main goal with this is to make commissions easier for everyone! I want the process to be a joy and as less frustrating as possible. I want us to build something together so the best possible story is created.
(Please also be mindful that these commissions will start in August)
Basic commissions: 1.50 cent per word. (ex: $45 is 3k words)
The basic usual fair. A self insert reader or a simple ‘you’ reader. Describe the monster you want, basic plot outline, and simple wants for the story and outcome. Usually requires minimal research and prep on my end, and the story is probably mostly fluff, meet cute, etc. If free reign is given to me, your author, you will be guaranteed extra word count for my enjoyment.
Smut Commissions: 2 cent per word. (ex: $60 is 3k)
This includes more complex details and requests, these may be stories that feature original characters or that deal with a more involved storyline, plot, character work, and word count. This includes plots and characters that may require extra research on my end. This also takes into account that these complex stories may include word overflow (I know they do, I know how I work., as well time discussing and working out things may take.
Discounts are available on most of Patreon reward tiers. And people who have commissioned me more than five times will receive and friends and family discount as well.
I will also only accept payments made in USD. I feel that is fair, considering I have been lenient about this in the past. I have let friendship and my own kindness allow me to be taken advantage of, and I am tired of it. Payment, as always, is due in advance, and you can pay as soon as you like (5% discount if you pay right away). Payments will be made via p*yp*l and I will send an invoice when you are ready. If p*yp*l isn’t an option for you, we will discuss that in advance.
I do not mind you being as vague or as detailed as you want. I do suggest you get all your details out in one go, as we can discuss them quickly and easily. If things change, that is fine too, just make sure to tell me advanced enough it won’t hinder the production of your story. What I request is that you do not bombard me with requests, ask, and details over and over and over again. The more this happens the more I tend to get anxious and stressed about the story. Once details are agreed upon then they are considered final. Any changes made a week before will not be accepted. Also, stories that require a lot of detail and research will have a higher price point. I have bent over backwards and worked myself to the bone on stories like these, and I think it’s time I am paid for it. I also ask that anything you want for the story does not alter or bend the rules of the universes you want them set in, such as Hearthway Hollow, Ruby Empire, and Miror. These are my worlds and I have specific things in place for them, if you feel the need to play God, please discuss it with me beforehand and we can see if we can reach something amicably.
Be prepared to hear ‘no’ from me. In the past I have not put my foot down and I have ended up uncomfortable or unsure about things. There are certain topics, kinks, and creatures I will not write, but I am very happy to work with you to come to something that will satisfy your needs.
I will start asking for extra pay if extensive edits are needed. If there are whole chunks that need rewritten or paragraphs you wanted added, I am going to have to charge for them, although it will be cheaper than the regular cost per word. If it’s something that is truly my mistake (like if I wrote the wrong monster or something), it will be discussed.
I ask that you trust me as a writer to do what is best. If I twist something or request something goes another way, it is me wanting to give you the best experience for your story and not disregarding your wants for the story at all. Usually when this happens I will discuss it with you and double check to make sure it is ok.
Commission Inquiry Form:
Make sure to include as much as possible! If your desired story needs a lot of details, give as much as needed. If you want to leave something more simple and trust me with the details, make sure to say that too. This will also decide which commission price comes into play. When you send the email please make the topic Commission Inquiry.
What is your budget? (either list a price or the word count you want)
Reader Character Gender:
Reader Character Description:
Monster Character:
Monster Character Description:
Is this NSFW or SFW?
Any kinks, tropes, or specifics?
Story Outline:
Other thoughts or comments:
Commission Prices:
Now here comes the FAQ:
Do you have a word limit?
Considering how many commissions I get, I will not be accepting commissions under 3000 words. It hasn’t come up, but I just wanted it to be known. Smaller commissions are extremely hard for me to do. The bigger the commission the better for me, it’s a lot easier.
Why do you have a preferred word count?
3000 words is my favorite fic to do. It has enough to build characters and relationships as well as have enough room for smut or anything extra you request.
My story’s at 3502 words! Do I have to pay the extra pricing per word?
If a story goes over 500 words I’ll discuss with you what you’d like to do. But usually, extra word count is my bad, I get excited sometimes and have fun, and I don’t mind eating it.
I have this great idea for a novel…
I’m glad you have an idea, but no. I cannot write your novel for you. It isn’t fair to me, and it will probably cost you more than you are willing to pay. I have my own projects and novels to write. I can’t baby your dream as well as my own.
Will you write fanfiction on commission?
For the time being, no. But! If you’d be willing to work with me and create a ‘legally distinct’ original to compensate then lets talk!
I have a completely original character and would like you to write with them. Is this okay?
YES. But, Be prepared to give me a decent bio as well as their physical description and all the basic information I will need to bring your baby to life.
Can I have you write another chapter to one of your existing stories?
Yes! If the story was a commission though we will have to ask the original commissioner. If they approve then I will do it for you.
I want to give you free reign over the story. Is that ok?
Always! I love getting creative and going off in my own little world.
What kind of stories do you write?
I enjoy writing almost anything. I’m good at comedy and romance, but horror and psychological stories have become my guilty pleasure to write.I’m good with most anything, but there will be topics I will be unwilling to write. But this will all be discussed and approved when you contact me.
What won’t you write?
This is a better question to ask. I absolutely will not write anything involving scat, vore, children in sexual situations, or nonconsensual sexual acts. These are just major examples of things I am uncomfortable with. Also, I am NOT open to role plays, so don’t ask for those.
So how does this work?
Send me an email to [email protected] with your intent and a brief idea of what you want. Once I approve it we can discuss what length of story you want, what genre, what characters, and a loose outline. Payment will be given upfront. Until I receive payment I will not begin working on your commission.
Will you be showing my story off to everyone else?
Commissions will be yours and yours alone for up to a month. After that it will be posted to Patreon and a month after that it will go live on Tumblr. But having your commission and the feedback will help me build my portfolio for the future.
Food for Thought
Remember when that you are commissioning anyone, writer, artist, voice actor, musician, anyone, that you are not just paying for the product. You are also paying them for their time talking to you about what you want, you're paying for their research and study on whatever it is you want, you're paying them for double checking and making sure everything is ok with the product. More goes into the commissions you ask for than you think, so please be kind and considerate with commissioning anyone. Art takes time, patience, and a lot of love, and we want to give you the best bang for your dollar.
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Thanks @priincebutt for the tag! This is an open tag, because I don't want to tag anyone specifically as some of these questions are a little sketch, so the answers below are a little obtuse/long-winded. This was SUPER FUN though!
Are you named after anyone?
Yes - a pop star and a jewelry company/type of diamond cut. 
When was the last time you cried?
During Totality of the 2024 Solar Eclipse, genuinely one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring moments of my life.  I was struck by the beauty of the corona which shimmered like diamonds in the sky, struck by perfect randomness of the universe that that gave us a sun that’s 400x bigger than the moon and 400x as far, creating the perfect symmetry to allow for a solar eclipse, and how this same random perfection gave me my daughter, loving husband and all the privileges I have in my life.
Hours before, I also shed frustrated and sad tears that my enjoyment of a fandom that has given me so much joy and creative inspiration has soured over being soundly, but unexpectedly, rejected. Frustrated and sad that I may have to bow out and give up something I thoroughly enjoyed giving my free labour to and through which I have made some wonderful friends that have buoyed me over the past year.  
Do you have kids?
See above.
What sports do you play/have you played?
I was never a sporty kid, but as an adult I discovered running, which has both been a lifeline and a source of endless frustration and pain. I’ve run a marathon, about a dozen half marathons,  innumerable 5ks and 10ks and kicked the butt of a 30k once in a winter storm. I can’t wait to rediscover running again and start my running journey from scratch.
Do you use sarcasm?
Not as much as I wish I would like. I’m not as spicy as I think I am, haha. 
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
How they are treating me, which tells me how they want to be treated back.
What’s your eye color?
Dark like my soul! You can hardly see my pupils, and its not because I’m high! 
Scary movies or happy endings comedies?
Neither! I love a good story, I love a drama. My favourite films recently have been films that felt simultaneously satisfying and unsatisfying at the same time. Both feature Paul Mescal (Aftersun and All of Us Strangers), and focus on parenthood and the relationships we have with the memories of our parents.
Any talents?
Not really? I suppose I have a talent for seeming more enthusiastic about things than I really am. 
Where were you born?
In a city in an archipelago in the Pacific Ocean. 
What are your hobbies?
Motherhood and full time job life doesn’t leave a lot of time for hobbies, but I l have love engaging in the RWRB fandom, and reading and writing and making some amazing friends. Before writing  and posting fanfiction, I did a lot of roleplaying on IJ, Tumblr and Discord. I enjoy broadway musicals and watching too much British television. I also love riding the Peloton and a good strength session!
Do you have any pets?
Yes. But I see you with this revealing security question, potential fraudster :P
How tall are you?
I grew up in poverty in a developing country, subsisting mostly on rice and coffee and white bread with mayonnaise (yes, mayonnaise), raised by a loving but chain-smoking mother. There was no hope for me to become taller than an oversized hobbit. Let’s just say my husband and I have to toggle the Peloton back and forth between the most extreme settings possible.
Favorite subject in school?
History and Politics. The great loves of my life, if its not already obvious.
Dream job?
My current job is nominally my dream job. However, I would like to serve a government that genuinely cares about the public, that thinks beyond myopic and cynical politics and actually wants to improve the lives of ordinary citizens, uplift the vulnerable, tax the shit out of the rich and - at minimum - not support genocide. 
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sxtvrns · 1 year
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pre-release benefits
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🎶 now playing: kiss - nct dojaejung
P: Choi Soobin x Fem!Idol!Reader
S: A collaboration announced with a dear friend of yours seems to go down the one path you didn’t expect. You weren’t complaining.
C: LOTS of tension, soobin duality, fluff, y/n in denial, kinda dirty makeout scene, rushed, soobin a lil ooc?
N: i wanted to start writing something new so bad but im running out of plot ideas send help UNTIL i remembered i had a soobin thing in my drafts that absolutely sucked ass so i deleted it and this is… im hoping this one is better and i dont delete it this time <3
view the full perfume collection.
please interact if you enjoy!
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Everyone knew you and Soobin were best friends. The closest. You shared everything with each other. Someone told you a secret that you weren’t supposed to tell anyone? You immediately go tell Soobin. He gets very much classified information regarding the release of their new album? He goes and tells you.
See, you two were good at keeping each other’s secrets. You were 90% sure Soobin has blackmail on almost every single popular group in the industry at this point.
What led you two to be this close in the first place? Well, you were a producer and a music artist yourself under Big Hit. You helped produce some of their music, recorded them in the studio, and assisted in releasing some of their greatest hits.
Soobin took a liking to you, and your nice but strong constructive criticism. You let them have their freedom but in a way that the song would sound exactly how you wanted it to come out. The more he ran into you, the more you talked. The more you talked, the closer you became. The closer you became, the more you began to see each other as friends.
And that’s how it all started. Soobin saw himself lucky since he didn’t share a room with anyone, meaning no one had to hear him laugh or giggle under his covers whenever you texted him something humorous. Unless his groupmates hear him through the walls, they haven’t given him any noise complaints.
You didn’t perform on music shows often, so being seen on the big screen by fans sometimes came as a surprise. You were more laid back than elaborate, but still enticing and entertaining, which is why people loved you so much. You were the perfect balance of talent and performer, enthusiasm and technique.
Since you were always in the studio, assisting with editing and recording after your own promotions and such, you didn’t really have the time to attend shows even if you ended up winning. But your workload begun to slowdown since it was promotion season, meaning you had time to work on projects of your own and your own wellbeing.
You met up with your manager in their office regarding your next comeback. “Bang wants you to do a collaborative album. All the songs have features.”
“With more than one artist?”
“Just one. He’s suggesting Soobin, since he, quote: ‘notices their chemistry in the studio and how well their voices blend together’. He’s endorsing it since he knows your close friendship with each other as well.”
“Isn’t Soobin still on tour? He’s gonna be tired once he gets back.”
“After or during his days off, he’ll work with you.”
“I don’t wanna overwork him…”
“The boy will do anything for you, Y/N. But yeah, check up on him every once in a while.”
You ponder for a moment, silently agreeing. “Does he know?”
“I emailed his manager, so I’m assuming so. Could’ve been with anyone else under HYBE, but we listen to the man.” The man being Producer Bang. He wasn’t entirely wrong. You two worked extremely well together, Soobin somehow being able to tolerate your nitpicking, and you figured that working with someone you were already familiar with would make the process more enjoyable.
Your phone buzzed, revealing a notification from Soobin himself.
my manager said we’re collaborating???
i mean… do u want to?
isn’t this an idea we’ve been having for a while
okay i thought you were joking when you said that
this is a legitimate thing? not a prank
no its not a prank
lets do it by the time i step foot in korea i will be sprinting to your studio
u need to REST my guy ur literally on tour and travelling 24/7
i am holding onto the opportunity for the rest of this trip u better not be contacting anyone else
wasn’t planning to 👍
You showed your manager the brief conversation, hearing the clicking of their keyboard right after. “I suggest you start brainstorming. They want it published by the beginning of next year.” You can see there’s something more behind their expression that they aren’t telling you, but you don’t pry. “Are they suggesting a concept?”
“You haven’t done a sexy concept yet.”
“A sexy concept. With Soobin.” Your managed nods. “Are you not seeing the setbacks here? You’re setting me up, aren’t you?”
“Do something you haven’t done before! Step out of your comfort zone; I’ve heard your demos, Y/N. Don’t tell me they don’t give you the urge to make out with someone.”
“You are so unprofessional.”
“As unprofessional as you.”
“I’m not fit for sexy, Jung-Hwa. Have you seen me?”
“I’m seeing you right now. I see the potential if you just put yourself out there. Isn’t that what everyone’s into these days?”
“Only if it’s executed well.”
“And you don’t settle for less, so get to work. Work off your demos; edit them, compose, do whatever you need to. I know there’s a fire inside consisting of your desires that just hasn’t been lit yet.”
“You’re a madman but you just gave me an idea.”
“Don’t say I didn’t help you!” They yell as you leave the room.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Soobin listened to the edited demos you sent him over and over again. It was like an entire album of Tinnitus back to back, and God, it was so good. No wonder why you forced yourself to sit in during the recording for that song.
Y/NNN
soobinnn
ITS SO GOOD
IM ASCENDING
I CANT WAIT TO COME BACK AND RECORD THIS WITH YOU
what was the concept for this???
sexy
…what
dont kill me my manager told me to
y/n…
are you trying to make moves on me with ur music
cuz honestly thats the hottest fucking thing ever
what the fuck
im working off old demos i had
should i add more
were you horny while making these
these sound like actual songs you’d have sex to
you are the most unprofessional person i have ever met in my life
i am speaking to you as a friend
assuming i like u thru my music does not sound very friend like 🤨
i didnt wanna do the sexy concept either okay i am not suitable for the role
y/n ur hot and u make music that is the sexiest thing that a person could ever do
im collabing with someone else
is it because u saw me shirtless while doing tinnitus
did that get u into a mood and you started writing these songs
ur actually obsessed with me its insane
soobin are you drunk?
what
i have taehyun’s live up rn i can hear you in the background
ur music got me acting up
oh my god ur horny for me thats crazyyy
only for you
woah
lets calm down a little here
dont want u saying things ur gonna regret
im completely sober
i can see u looking at ur phone in disgust rn
is that what ur doing
yes
how tf did u know
i always know
you’re so predictable its honestly adorable
okay maybe you should get some rest
ur enjoying this i bet
i am tired and do not have enough energy to keep up with this
goodnight stupid
goodnight cutie
never call me that again
cutie
choi soobin go to sleep or im gonna do this album with someone else
u wouldnt
ill ask yeonjun
goodnight y/n
Soobin had to admit, you were cute. Scratch that, you were fucking sexy in his eyes.
Your maturity, your art, your precision, God, he was obsessed with you. He always jokes about it when talking to you, but the fact he does it so often sometimes makes you think that he does actually have some sort of attraction to you.
You didn’t mean to insinuate some sort of move on him during your songwriting, but he was making it really damn hard in making it seem like you were. This tour was really getting to him. He might be going a little insane.
He did have a point, though. All of your songs were a little… erotic. The way he was texting you was not helping.
He was driving you crazy. Flirting with you while you had no knowledge if he meant what he said at all. And the only time you could ever check in with him or he could check in with you was after his concerts, meaning he was exhausted and ready to hit the sheets when you were ready to talk business plans.
You envied those at his concerts. You planned to go to the one in Korea, but tickets were sold out and you ended up being busy that day anyways. Soobin wanted to see you there too. He wondered if you’ve seen those pictures of him showing his abs off to the audience. Given you spend so much time on the internet, you probably have.
One day of rest was enough for him already. Every night he went back to his hotel room he was always reminded that he had to record with you by the time they stopped back in Korea for their temporary break after the first part of their tour. Maybe it was the relaxing environment, or his earbuds, or the freshly made bed, but something always kept him eager for your collaboration.
He texted you every single night, as he usually did, jokingly flirting and saying how much better it would’ve been if you were there, or how you should’ve been a guest performer out of nowhere. But he always gushed about how much he loved your music before anything else.
The minute he stepped foot into the airport, he immediately thought of you, and how you’d execute the album’s production perfectly, in a way that both of you would be proud of. He just couldn’t wait to see you in the studio again.
y/nnie
hello soobin
i’ll be in the studio tomorrow
already? i just finished making the instrumentals LOL
ive been looking forward to this ever since i came back
you know how much i love doing these things with you
you made that sound way more dirty than it should’ve been
maybe you’re just dirty minded
do you want to record or not
i’ll be there at 10 sharp ma’am
He wasn’t lying. When you saw him seated outside the recording booth with an ice americano, you merely stood there and stared at him until he noticed. When he finally did, his eyes lit up and he nearly dropped his drink, jumping up from his seat to hug you.
“How was your tour?”
“It was really fun! Wish you’d been there for at least one of the dates. How did you manage to miss both of them?”
“Shut up, I’m busy.”
“Busy making demos for songs to have sex to?”
“You are so unprofessional. How do people love you so much?”
“Because I’m charming and very handsome.”
You scoff. “Yeah. Charming, for sure.”
“You’ll fall for my charms eventually, Y/N.”
“Just get in the booth.” You part ways as he obliges, meeting him separated by glass in the control room. “I’ve coloured your parts green and mine blue.”
“Why couldn’t I be blue?”
“Why does it matter to you? Should I play you the demo or have you listened to it 500 times already that I don’t need to?” Sarcasm drips off your tongue and pierces Soobin with your stare, waiting for his answer. “I got it, princess, don’t worry.”
You know he’s mocking you with that nickname. Then how come your heart fluttered at the sound of it?
God, you were lucky that you never called Yeonjun to replace him. You never wanted to in the first place. You knew he’d fit the concept having done it before, you just never thought he’d fit it that well. His voice blended so well and it fit the vibe you were going for. The hour long session passed by like minutes.
“Love it, love it, love it!” You cheer giddily with small claps. “I’ll go in now, switch with me.” You take your headphones off, leaving the control room. Soobin meets you outside the booth, his glance lasting longer than it should have.
Recording your parts took a few tries with the excuse of ‘messing up’ when you knew damn well you wouldn’t mess up your own song. You were too focused on Soobin’s voice that you forgot to come in at times; it was hypnotizing, siren like that it had you so distracted.
His stare was not helping.
“Again.” You groan.
“It sounded fine to me.”
“Everything sounds fine to you, Soobin.”
“I think you can trust my opinion. Play it back for her.” He tells the supervisor in the control room. That underlying nauseating feeling when you hear your own voice bites at you like a hawk, but it only lasts for a second as you tell yourself that listening to your voice is how you keep a roof over your head.
After the section finishes playing, you bite your finger, hating to agree that he was right. “So?” Soobin looks at you with an all-knowing stare, a sure smile on his face. “It’s good.” You mutter. “What was that, hon?”
“It’s good.” You sneer. “Now can we finish recording this? We’re almost done.” You hear Soobin chuckle in your hear but pay no mind to it, though you could feel your face heating up by the second.
You go back to the control room and listen over it, satisfied with the results and saving your work to come back to later.
“Y/N.”
“Hm?”
“Come eat with me.”
You tilt your head. “What’s with the sudden offer? Are you making moves on me?”
“Thought you might be hungry. You’ve been surviving on an iced caramel macchiato and a single triangle gimbap this entire day and I know you’re notorious for overworking yourself without any fuel.” Is this his way of saying he cares about you? “Aw, so you do care about me and aren’t just a horny fuck.”
“Compassion before the passion.”
“That was the worse attempt at poetry I’ve ever heard in my life, and I’ve heard a lot of things.”
Of course, the joke about him being horny wasn’t entirely true. He just seemed to be all over you and flirty so often that led you to make such an accusation against him. You’d get weird stares when you called him that in public or around other people, but it was a revolving inside joke between you two that both of you took pride in.
“I’ll go. Because yes, I’m starving, and two, I did not work hours on these demos just for me to fuck up what’s gonna be released to the public.”
“So it’s a date?”
“I’d rather get a black ocean than go on a date with you.” He stares at you, waiting for an answer as your stomach rumbles. “Okay, fine, call it whatever you want because I’m so fucking hungry right now so wherever you’re taking me better be good.” He smiles and continues walking.
“Y/N’s first date.”
“I’m calling Yeonjun.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
For the next few days of recording sessions, all goes well as it usually does, and Soobin takes you out on the occasional hang out right afterwards. You called them hang outs, he called them dates. Going out with no supervisors was obviously a big risk thing, but you weren’t kids. You knew how to handle yourselves and how to get out of certain situations.
“Are you sure you can really spend on me every single day? Seems like a lot.”
“We’re famous, honey, I think money’s the least of our concerns.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I know you like it.”
You roll your eyes, Soobin putting on his mask as fast as he took it off. You follow him, walking up to the counter nervously as he takes both your orders, and after bickering, putting it under your card instead.
“So what was going through your mind making those demos?” He suddenly asks as you two wait side by side for your order. “What do you mean?”
“Sexy thoughts make sexy songs.”
“I can’t believe you just said that out loud. Everyone is looking at us right now.”
“I’m still waiting for my answer.”
“They were old, okay? I think I started working on them after your second album but never finished.”
“But what were you thinking of?”
You hesitate, biting down on your lip and avoiding eye contact with him. You can feel him staring at you, and you knew he wouldn’t break easy. You take a deep breath, ready for what’s to come. “I was thinking of–“
“Order for Soobin!” The barista calls, setting down a fruit tea and a coffee down on the counter. Everyone’s eyes were on him this time, and eventually you, taking the cup from his hand. “Why didn’t you use an alias?”
“I forgot.”
“You’ve been ordering for me the entire week and your excuse is that ‘you forgot’? You used an alias name the last time and somehow you just magically–“
“Is it actually Soobin?”
“Soobin! Can we get a photo?”
“Soobin, I love you!”
“I wish you’d say that to me.” He suddenly whispers into your ear, smacking away his face. There’s a bunch of people crowded around both of you, the feeling of claustrophobia kicking in as Soobin continues to smile through his mask.
“Is that Y/N?” You’re surprised at the mention of your own name, not thinking you’d be recognized like usual. “Y/N! I love your music– could I get a photo with you?” The one girl moves from Soobin’s crowd to in front of you, with a genuine, pleading smile on her face.
This was the only time you’d agree. “Sure.” You nod. She takes out her phone, taking a quick selfie with you. For some reason, you seem to admire her respect for your personal space, though she doesn’t see it fully, she can see and feel your sincerity with your eyes squinted as you smile. “Thank you so much! I’m looking forward to your future work!”
Your heart melts as she walks away, the sudden reminder that you’re with Soobin coming back to you, seeing as he’s crowded by all those girls and more people lining up out the door. “Soobin, are you on a date?” Rhetorical questions begin to come from the fans as some of them laugh along. “I’m treating my friend. She’s been working hard, and she deserves it.”
“Can we go?” You mutter, tapping his arm. He looks down at you for a moment before looking back at the crowd. “If you could excuse us, we should get going now.” He announces, the people making way for both of you to leave freely.
Soobin’s hand rests on your back the whole way, guiding you out and simply acknowledging the respectful goodbyes of the patrons, none of them following you out and simply letting you go.
There were more people outside, leaving the side walk empty as you both walked by, Soobin sending them waves. He still kept his hand on your back the entire time.
There were more people outside, leaving the sidewalk empty as you both walked by, Soobin sending them waves. He still kept his hand on your back the entire time.
He never takes it off.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You looked a little overwhelmed.”
“How could you tell?”
“You were tense. Was it the crowd or was it my hand?”
“Both. Don’t you think this could get us into a scandal?”
“Media already knows we’re nothing more but close friends.”
“Well, the media likes to assume, too. They’ve been on our backs about it.”
“If we did get into a scandal, you wouldn’t mind it, would you?”
“A little bit.”
“Why?”
“We’re best friends, Soobin! Doesn’t it make you at least a little uncomfortable having people assume something they have no business being in?”
“It does. But you have to get used to it.”
“How did you do that?”
He pauses. “I didn’t. And I’ve never been in a situation where people do so yet. Until now. But those rumours have been existing for a while already. If anything, I’ll take the blame.”
“But your group. You’d jeopardize a lot! I should take the blame, less people know who I am.”
“That girl in there knew who you were. Besides, I’m the one that’s been asking you all week.”
“Soobin…”
“Y/N, I’d risk so much for you. We never talk all sappy like this since you always like to shut me down, but being your friend has helped me strengthen my values, even if all I do is go crazy about you.” He seems genuine, words true to his heart as you both stop outside your dorm. “I know you’re the type to worry about this stuff. Honestly, this’ll brush over before you know it. And if it doesn’t, just leave it to me.”
You’re suddenly wrapping your arms around him, taking a deep breath as you feel him hug you back. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if… I’ve been so pessimistic.”
“Honey, you were just being realistic. I completely understand that.”
You don’t know what else to say, simply resorting to a smile. “Goodnight, Soobin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
You shut the door, dumping out the ice in your drink into the sink and throwing away the cup.
When you go to sleep that night, you think of a few things. That girl who took a photo with you. Her consideration and awareness. And the feeling of Soobin’s hand on your back.
You wished it was still there.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You felt like reeling.
You were already in a spiral, contemplating if those pitter-patters in your heart was because you were having medical problems or if you truly had a thing for your friend. Guess which one you’d rather figure out.
He was handsome. You always knew he was handsome. No matter what colour they decided to dye his hair, or however they styled it, it always looked good, and you hated it.
You hated how your excuse for being so cold to him was because ‘his beauty was bothering you’. It was foolish, stupid— if he ever found out, he would never let you live it down. You could hear his teasing remarks already.
It didn’t help that his eyes were so focused on you during the recording of your solo song. You say him out of the corner of your eye, staring at you intensely with his head resting on his hand. And he smirked when your eyes met. He fucking smirked.
You almost messed up your best take because of it.
Since when have you been so distracted by him? You figured it was just best to sing with your eyes closed the entire time rather than risking getting even a glimpse of him. Even if you kept your eyes on the lyric sheet, you could always feel his eyes on you.
Yet you refused to accept the fact you were at least a little bit attracted to him.
“Good job, Y/N.” He’d say, and the heat would rush straight to your cheeks.
Your hands rest on your waist, contemplating the section you just finished recording. “What do you think?” You finally look straight at Soobin, who seems to be thinking as hard as you were. “Redo it. It doesn’t… sound as sad as it did in the demo.”
“Shit, what should I do? I don’t get so emotional very often and when I do I get too sad to function.”
“Imagine I just rejected you.” You look at him, rolling your eyes, the supervisor in there obviously very confused at the unexplained statement. The inside joke was prominent, and though you knew he was joking around, it worked.
You thought of what would happen if he ever denied your advances like you did to his. Ironic, but heartbreaking. You swore you actually felt it wrench in you.
When you look at him again, his face is molded into a pleasantly surprised, ‘I knew it would work’ expression. Listening back on it, you were proud of the final result and finished recording for the day. You partially gave credit to Soobin’s outrageous suggestion.
“It worked, didn’t it?” He meets up with you outside the studio. “Maybe I’m just such a great actor.” You jokingly reply, lighting nudging his arm with your shoulder. “If you could hear it from the control room, honey, you’d be impressed. That was true heartbreak.”
“And we’re doing your song tomorrow.”
“I’ll be thinking of you when I record it.”
He’s saying that because he knows how it sounds, the composition and the overall vibe that comes from it. He knows damn well that it’s nothing short of sexy, and it’s the one that he’s been ranting to you so much about how much he loves it and how it’s his favourite. It also happens to be the last song you’d be recording before editing and sending off.
“I don’t know whether to feel flattered or objectified.”
“Sweetie, Choi Soobin just said he’s gonna think of you when recording one of the most suave songs in his entire life. You know him well enough to know he isn’t a pervert.”
“You really aren’t…” You have to admit it to yourself. Despite his snarky, flirtatious responses, he’s never called you anything beyond hot, cute, or… sexy. He’s the only person that can joke around with you like that. If anyone else did it, you wouldn’t speak to anyone for the next few days.
Anyone but him.
Soobin was always there for you during your lows. Whether you have been objectified while at work or on set, you come home with a nauseating feeling in your stomach and an urge to tell him all about it, because you know that he would understand. He’d offer you support, he’d check up on you in between his breaks, sometimes he’d even put in the effort to visit and bring you something or even just give you a hug.
He was a knack for being a sweetheart during times like that.
Yet he still continues to make your heart flutter with those names. You know it and damn well he knows that you secretly don’t mind being called those things at all. What you’ve noticed is that you’re the only one that he calls those things. Maybe it’s because you’re close, and you’re probably one of his only female friends that he is close with, but something is telling you there’s more than the eye can see.
And you wanted to find out what that was.
“I think you should be flattered, nonetheless. You are all can think of when I listen to the song.” He responds. “Is it because I’m the one singing it?” You snarkily reply, thinking nothing of it. “I know what was going through your mind writing that, Y/N. You probably imagined making out with someone and just put that into a tune.”
You say nothing.
“Really?! Is that what you’ve been thinking of!?”
“Don’t judge me, I write what I feel! And sometimes I feel… very interesting things.”
“So dirty. But I don’t blame you. You should’ve heard the demo for Tinnitus.”
“I did hear the demo for Tinnitus and honestly I am so pissed off you guys made the lyrics so depressing. That’s literally the horniest song and you chose to write about being a rock.”
“Hey, maybe when we’re done with this album, I can record it with you.”
“And publish it?”
“If the man agrees. I’d need a little help with the english, but I know you’re good at it.”
“I’m good at everything, honey.” You say, mocking him. “I think I’m gonna have a heart attack from that alone.” He says, his hand resting on his chest. “You know I’m just acting, right?”
“You called me it either way.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Soobin had been nagging to take you out for bingsu the whole week. You always pushed it for after recording every single song, and now was finally the time. You figured it was best and only fair to treat him this way.
He entered with a pep in his step, looking at the menu above while you stared at him the whole time, noticing how innocent and gleeful his eyes were. He really was looking forward to this all week. “Y/N, what do you want?” You glare at him for using your real name since it was also your stage name, but the man at the register didn’t seem to react anyway, so you relax.
“I like injeolmi… but you can choose what you want.” And he orders just that, losing the argument over who would pay for it. At first, when you sat yourselves at a table, you were confused. “I thought you liked pat?”
“So sweet of you to remember. But you’ve been working hard for the past few weeks, and since I’ve been nagging you about this, I figured it’s only fair we get what you want.”
“But–“
“Y/N, I’m okay with anything. Seriously. Except mint chocolate. And we’re sharing.”
“What.”
“You can finish a small but not a large… so I thought this was a good idea. Were you not paying attention?”
Truth is you spaced out while looking at him.
“I spaced out.” You half-lie, breaking eye contact. He gets up from his chair, walking past the table after saying he had to use the bathroom. A group of girls walk in, the bell above the door ringing to notify their presence. They all crowd at the counter, another employee coming from behind.
“Order for Y/N?” Your head perks up at the mention of your name, slightly embarrassed he ended up using it, but you go to pick up the order, noticing one of the girls looking oddly familiar. You can’t help but look at her, head tilted, and she can’t help but look at you. “You’re…” You mutter.
“Am I really seeing you again? Am I dreaming?” She rapidly says under her breath, surprising that she managed to recognize you with the mask again.
“You’re the girl from the café.”
“You remember me?” She’s equally as shocked. “I think you’re one of the few people that’s come up to me to ask me for a photo, so yes, I do remember you.” She smiles and squeals as softly as she can, realizing her group of friends saved a table for them and grabbed an extra chair for her. “Are you with…” You find it funny you both know who she’s talking about.
“I am. He’s in the bathroom.”
“I saw him through the window when we were coming here. It was nice seeing you again!”
“You too.” You reply as she walks off to join her friends. You go back to your table, placing the tray down and seeing Soobin go back to his seat. “I saw you talking with that girl. Wasn’t she the one who–“
“Yes, she’s the one that asked me for the photo. Honestly a coincidence. She’s really nice.”
“You think they’ll recognize me if I take off my mask?”
“Definitely.”
He does just that, while you do the same, taking one of the spoons. You check your phone quickly after feeling it buzz in your pocket, looking up to see a spoonful of bingsu facing you and being held by Soobin.
“What are you doing?” You know what he’s doing.
“I’m not moving until you eat.”
You roll your eyes and accept his attempt at spoon feeding you, just so he wouldn’t have to stay in the awkward position the entire time.
You’re sure those girls are looking over at you, because you can barely hear their squeals at the sight. One of them was scolding the group, as you could barely make out what she was saying, hearing their excited greetings right after.
Soobin turns to wave and say hello before his attention is back on you. “That girl didn’t want them taking pictures. The one who knows who you are.”
“You’re starting to like her, aren’t you?”
“Maybe we should hire her as our bodyguard.”
“Open.”
You mimic his action from earlier, holding a spoonful towards him. He simply smirks before accepting your offer with no retort or reply, the expression on his face enough to tell you what he was thinking.
“The real Y/N wouldn’t feed me at all. Who are you?”
“The Y/N that’s… doing her best to resist the urge to cuss you out right now.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s very out of character for you.”
‘Because I think I may or may not have a thing for you.’
“Let me be nice for once, okay? Otherwise I’m gonna throw this in your face.”
“There she is. I thought I lost you.”
You chuckle. “You like it when I’m mean?”
“Being mean is the only side I ever get out of you.”
“That’s because you flirt with me. I’m nice otherwise, and you know that.”
“You aren’t wrong. Y/N, what will it take for you to fall victim to my charms?”
“You’re weird.” I think I already have.
“Answer the question.”
You ponder for a moment, Soobin’s hard gaze almost stopping you from thinking straight. “If you can fufill my wildest fantasies, maybe I will.”
“And does wild mean… intimate, perhaps?”
“You’re so loud! At least be cautious when you know what you’re talking about…”
“Is that a yes?”
You don’t respond, beginning to finish off the bingsu in front of you. “I’ll ask Jung-Hwa, then.” You scoff. “Good luck trying to get anything out of her.”
“I’ll just have to guess.”
Soobin couldn’t deny it. You were so extremely astonishing and he was starting to have a thing for you too.
Thinking your friend is hot is one thing. It could just be admiring how they manage to be so perfect all the time and nothing beyond it. Thinking your friend is hot and being attracted to them is another.
How was he gonna be nice enough for you to actually take his compliments seriously? If he tried, you wouldn’t believe him. He’s flirted with you enough that you had a valid reason to refuse that he actually meant anything he was saying.
So while you giddily continued eating, stealing all the rice cakes off the shaved ice, he tried his best to hide the blush that was slowly rising onto his face, the dessert in front of him doing nothing to cool him down.
“Ready to go?” You ask, snapping him out of his own thoughts. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes are on you, moving up and down your body attentively, but sly enough for others to not notice. But you just had to notice.
You notice everything.
“Choi Soobin, what were you just looking at?”
“You.”
“Did I have something on my face? Or were you looking at something you shouldn’t have?”
“You are so astonishingly attractive, honey, I’m sorry that I can’t help myself.”
“Put your mask on. There’s already a group of people following us.” He turns around, only to see nobody there. “Made you look.”
“Is this your way of getting out of sweet talk?”
“What else am I supposed to say? ‘Thank you’, ‘you too’?”
“I’d love to hear that second option.”
“In your dreams.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You spent almost all your time in the studio for the next few days, most of the times getting out to use the bathroom or pick up a drink from the 19th floor. But it was your day to add any instruments, beats, and overall touch ups.
You were kept sane by conversations during breaks with Soobin and your manager. Mostly Soobin, since he was notorious for staying up later than his bandmates and always replying to you the minute you send a text. He checked up on you, asked if you needed anything, even if it was well past working hours and he needed to be asleep.
There’s a knock on the door while you’re just about to finish for the day. You get up to answer, greeted by a smiling Soobin holding a box in a plastic bag. “Can I come in?” You sigh with a smile, too mentally tired to argue and let him in, closing the door behind him.
He claims the chair beside yours, placing the bag down and taking the box out of it. This time your food was being delivered in person. “How’s it going so far?”
“Almost done for the day. I’m quite literally on the last song nearing the last second and I’ve had every single track on repeat that I might get sick of it.”
“You say that for every track you produce and you end up loving it.”
You stretch and feel as though your entire body has been resurrected again, making you question how bad your posture was and how long you were sitting for. You turned around to see Soobin standing in front of you. “So… I just remembered you haven’t answered my question I asked a week ago.”
“How do you still– nevermind.”
“What were you thinking of when you were working on the tracks? The concept? Honey, I’ve seen your texts to your manager over your shoulder and it makes me wonder what led you to approve of such explicit designs?”
At first, you don’t remember him asking the question at all. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. The answer he never got was an answer not permitted to be shared with him. He’d never let you live it down.
“I imagined making out with someone for that one song. Don’t you remember me saying that?”
“Oh, honey, I remember that very well. But I know there’s something more behind that you aren’t telling me. And as your collaborative artist and very, very good friend… I feel I should deserve to know.”
He inched closer to you, leaning in with that sweet but mischievous smile he always had on whenever he was around you. “You wanna know what I was thinking of?” You retort, immediately getting embarrassed and hiding your face in your shoulder.
“I was thinking of you…”
He leans in closer, his hand cupping his ear. “What was that?”
“I was thinking of you.” This time you face him, watching that stupid smirk you hated seeing grow right in front of you. “Me?”
“You and your concept photos, how good you looked in them… how you’d look when recording them, when we recorded Tinnitus…”
“You were thinking of my abs?”
“Yes, I was thinking of your abs, okay, you got your answer for the sake of my own dignity.”
“Wow, Y/N, I am honoured to be so inspiring and being able to fufill your erotic fantasies in order for you to create the hottest album of all time.”
“If you say a word of this to anyone, I’m never producing for your group ever again.”
“I think it’s funny how you’re obsessed with me as much as I am obsessed with you.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful, honey. You are so incredibly talented with a knack for everything and you manage to look fucking breathtaking while doing so. If you could see what I’m seeing right now, my God. You are so alluring, Y/N.”
You stay silent as he comes closer, eye contact not breaking and tension hot and heavy. “You really mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“That. And every single time you’ve flirted with me.”
“I meant every single word I’ve said to you. I always have. The question is… do you mean every insult you call me? Every threat you send my way?” Your face goes warm, and he can see you blush, but your expression doesn’t change at all. He walks towards you, making you stop at the edge of the table as he continues to move closer. “No.”
“Did you imagine me being this close to you for your music?”
“Maybe.”
“I just poured my heart out for you, Y/N, you can just tell me the truth.” He smiles, hands on either side of you gripping the table, trapping you. “I did.”
“And what else did you imagine? What other dirty fantasies have been going through your head that caused you to produce such amorous melodies?”
You feel your ego climb through the roof. “I imagined what it would feel like to kiss you.”
“There you go, telling the truth for me. Now, I’ve made this fantasy of being so close to you a reality… why not make that other one come true?”
At this point, you’ve lost your patience.
You hold both sides of his head, pulling him in to kiss you messily. It’s sloppy at first, given your aggressive approach, but the minute his hands rest on your waist, everything else doesn’t matter. You just needed to have his lips on yours because God knows how desperate you have gotten ever since you’ve been in the studio, away from him.
It felt empty, lonely, uneasy when he wasn’t there. Maybe you just spent so much time with him that it felt unusual to be alone. And you preferred being alone, so why did it matter so much? That Soobin wasn’t there?
But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was kissing you so passionately, you felt his hands slowly move down to rest over your ass as he began to kiss you deeper, his tongue somehow slipping into your mouth without you noticing.
His lips were as soft as you saw them on the screen, his efforts to kiss you aggressive and contrasting. They were so pink when you pulled away, glistening with a mix of your spit. You messed up his hair and he messed up yours, but he still managed to look so good. “I’m so in love with you.” He whispers before he kisses you again, this time softer and more gently than before.
The post makeout haze is silent, slightly awkward, but fulfilling. At this point you two are merely staring at each other, breaking eye contact at times but finding you just couldn’t help but bring your gaze back to him.
“I don’t know if we can do this. Us, I mean.” You say.
“I know. But I want to.”
“How long? How long have you liked me like this?”
“When we went out for food after the Blue Hour promotions were over and Yeonjun invited you.”
“Jesus, that’s… a long time.”
“Do you like me the way I like you, Y/N? ‘Cause honestly, it’d be a little embarrassing if I just said it to your face only to find out you don’t see me the same way.”
“I literally just made out with you for five minutes straight and admitted to thinking of your six-pack while making this album.”
“…So you do?”
“Yes, I do. I really like you. A lot. And… I’m sorry for all the times I’ve friendzoned you.”
“You do what you gotta do in this industry. I don’t blame you. But… I really want to be your boyfriend.”
“And I wanna be your girlfriend.”
You both sit in silence for a moment as Soobin turns his chair to fully face you. “So what will we do?” You ask, breaking the ice that was beginning to freeze again. “I’ll take you on a date. After this and before our photoshoots.”
“And our company?”
Soobin ponders. “I’ll do my best to refrain from kissing you in public.”
“You’d fail immediately.”
“I would. That’s why I said I’ll try.”
Your eyes dart to the box left unattended and forgotten. “What is that, anyways?” You look at the box behind him, Soobin turning to open it and revealing fried chicken, boneless and split into two flavours. His sentimentality makes you chuckle, and how he remembered exactly what you liked.
You go to grab a piece from the box, but he pulls it away before you can even touch it.
“Give me a kiss first.”
You stare at him, not taking him seriously. “If I can’t kiss you in public, at least let me kiss you when we’re alone. Please?” You smile at his pleading, giving him what he wants just so you could start eating.
“I think the security cameras caught enough intimacy for tonight.” You say, stealing a piece of yangnyeom from the box.
“So much for trying to not kiss you in public, then.”
“We tried. Now eat, or I’ll finish it myself.”
���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
He tried. He really did try not to kiss you anywhere in the public eye.
But you always looked so damn good that he wanted to pull you aside and kiss you just to show the public out of spite. And after many, many long months of you ignoring him in public, you decided to change something when you went on tour.
Though you rejected his advances in the open, you two had hefty make out sessions in private to make up for it.
Your North American tour would start in Canada and end in the U.S., the last city on your list being Los Angeles, where you’d become one of the many artists that performed there.
You’ve been on smaller tours in the region of Asia. Anywhere beyond that was new to you. Soobin had to show you the ropes. Along with being one sweet piece of eye candy on stage, he was also really helpful and surprisingly didn’t tease you so much whenever you asked for something.
Your company knew. Your staff knew. But no one outside knew that you and Soobin were in a relationship. It wasn’t unusual for a makeup artist to walk in on you giving him a kiss on the cheek or for stylists to witness him peppering kisses along your neck.
Venue staff didn’t seem to care either.
Being able to be intimate while rehearsing is the closest you’ve ever gotten to revealing your relationship status to the general public. But in this sense, it was more comfortable. More comfortable that it ever would be if netizens found out. You didn’t let that distract you.
You had one goal: to leave an impact through your performances.
It honestly surprised you how much you were globally renowned. A lot, but not all of your venues were sold out, and seeing them all seated there was a rush of adrenaline you’ve never felt before. Unlike Soobin, this was all new to you. And you loved it.
You loved that you were loved by many overseas, and that they recognized you for your production skills and professionalism alongside your energy when performing. It was like a whole stage play, the way your concert played out.
You had a little surprise for the California crowd.
Surprise as in, Soobin didn’t know about it, the staff didn’t know about it, nobody. Okay, maybe the staff did know because you were scared you were gonna get in trouble if you didn’t tell them beforehand. You didn’t do this for any other city, and you didn’t rehearse it. This was gonna be spontaneous. Usually you stuck to a plan, but sometimes you can squeeze a little something extra within, can’t you?
At the end of the last song of the night, you were put into a particular pose with Soobin where his face was in close proximity with yours. And you finally gave into the urge.
On the large, lit up stage, surrounded by thousands of people, you kissed him. It showed on the screens behind you, and you swore you could hear screams even with the in-ear monitor.
As the light turned off and only displayed your silhouettes, you rest your forehead against his.
“I love you, Soobin.”
He’s obviously very surprised, but plays along with it.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
And somehow the screams get even louder.
It was probably your favourite concert of the entire tour. You revealed what felt like a part of your world to the public. It felt… freeing.
Your phone buzzed against your nightstand, putting it on silent mode as Soobin joins you in the hotel bed.
“Hi.” He smiles tiredly.
“Hi.” You return, moving closer to him.
“I didn’t know you were gonna do that tonight.”
“I did. I liked it. Did you?”
“Oh, I loved it. Never thought you could be such a troublemaker.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“Oh? That is?”
“…I don’t like injeolmi bingsu that much.”
He gasps. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Ah, you really changed.”
“I am always changing, Soobin. It’s a matter of growth.”
“Then, when we go back to Korea, we’ll get pat bingsu. As a celebratory gift.”
“For what?”
“For working your ass off on this album and tour, Y/N. I’m so unbelievably proud of you and all that you’ve done to get this approved and popular.”
“You’re gonna make me fall in love again.”
“I certainly wouldn’t mind that.”
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kiss, far from reason, throw it all. i wanna kiss your lips. 🎧
49 notes · View notes
moog-rt · 1 year
Text
ᴄʏʙᴇʀʙᴜʟʟʏ [ʀɪꜱᴇ!ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴘᴛ. 4
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Links to parts: one two three four five
Summary:
Fate brought you and that purple-clad turtle together in the form of endless battles of code.You were a purple dragon recruit, and he was your target. He plays your games as you tease him with the slim possibility of victory.
You may just let him win if you are feeling particularly merciful.
Notes:
enemies to lovers (I think?); slow burn; takes place after the movie; reader is a villain
Word Count: 2632
If you’d prefer to read it on Ao3, here’s the link:
ᴄʏʙᴇʀʙᴜʟʟʏ [ʀɪꜱᴇ!ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
Otherwise, enjoy!
♡ ♡ ♡
To Donnie’s surprise, you had, in fact, been quite literal in your proposal to play a game. The last thing he expected was the title screen of Mario Kart glitching its way onto his monitor. The little man with the red get-up and iconic mustache was all too reminiscent of his childhood. At the very least, this would be more enjoyable than typing endless strings of code for hours on end.
The menu for character selection opened up, and it didn’t take him terribly long to decide who to play as. That green turtle-esk character practically called to him. His opponent was quick to choose their character, as well. Toad…how fitting. You were a fungus whose spores had somehow taken root in his life, and you were now taking over in the worst way imaginable. Spreading. Sucking the life out of his innocent soul through your digital escapades.
Now, on top of that, you wanted him to entertain your sick little mind by racing you in Mario Kart. If you thought you could just beat him over and over again just because you were good at hacking, you were so wrong. At least you apparently had something to offer him if he won.
Donnie leaned back in his chair with a slight tilt of his head. What did you have to offer him? You had yet to clarify.
(11:08) Sir Von Ryan: So
(11:08) Anon: so?
(11:09) Sir Von Ryan: What exactly do I get if I win?
(11:09) Anon: well~
(11:09) Anon: we’ve got a few options to choose from, my dear
(11:10) Anon: a. i can just back off for a while. you can either use that time to chill or attempt to attack our servers. whatever floats your boat
(11:10) Anon: b. i can show you how to get around one of the major algorithms i’ve been using
(11:11) Anon: c. i can give you your blueprints back :)
(11:11) Sir Von Ryan: C!
(11:11) Sir Von Ryan: YOU MUST GIVE ME BACK MY BLUEPRINTS
Donnie had replied before he had even thoroughly thought out his options. Looking back, maybe the first offer would have been best, all things considered. Some time to actually sleep and eat and maybe go out on missions with his brothers again may be beneficial for his health, both mental and physical.
(11:11) Anon: okie dokie! no takesies backsies :P
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the childish response.
(11:12) Sir Von Ryan: Yeah, Yeah.
(11:12) Sir Von Ryan: Let’s just get on with it.
You couldn’t help but pout a bit at his lack of enthusiasm. Who wouldn’t be excited to tap into their inner child through a light-hearted game of Mario Kart? Maybe he just didn’t want to show it. The stoic type of you will. That had to be it!
The two of you went on to choose and put together the vehicles you’d each be using. Finally, it was time to begin.
(11:15) Anon: are you ready?!! :D
(11:15) Sir Von Ryan: Sure.
(11:15) Anon: :(
(11:15) Anon: okay…
(11:16) Anon: 3!
(11:16) Anon: 2!
(11:16) Anon: 1!
(11:17) Anon: GO!!!
Neither of you had been left in the dust as all the cars peeled out of the starting point. You quickly gained first with Donnie just a couple of cars behind you. Barely any time had passed before the first set of item boxes made its appearance. Luck was on your side as you got a banana peel. You wasted no time in placing it down, which promptly took out the Bowser that was hot on your tail. Donnie took the opportunity to decrease the distance between the two of you.
You could see the tip of his car at the bottom of your screen as you did your best to cut corners and be as efficient as possible with your driving. However, in the blink of an eye, he seemed to have disappeared completely. Maybe he got hit with a shell. You shrugged to yourself and pressed on.
A few seconds passed before you noticed the pretty little “1st” at the top of your screen changed to “2nd”, leaving you baffled. Nobody had passed you. In fact, other than Donnie, no one was even close to you. You also figured that Donnie had gotten bumped far enough behind that you wouldn’t have to worry about him.
You weren’t left wondering for too long as his car dropped in front of you. How could he have gotten ahead? You were certain you already knew about most of the shortcuts on each map. You couldn’t wrap your head around it…
It took you a second too long to react to the banana peel that was promptly placed right in front of you. You hit it and started to spin out, creating an unwelcome gap between the two of you.
You adjusted your grip on your controller as your nostrils flared.
“Oh, it is on,” you seethed.
Meanwhile, Donnie was laughing maniacally as he pushed on.
“That’s right, you menace! EAT MY PEEL!” he screamed at his monitor. He leaned back in his chair to return to his wild laughter as his legs kicked in the air. However, his excitement got the better of him as his right foot knocked over a cold mug of coffee that had been marinating on his desk for who knows how long.
“Shit!” Donnie hissed, scrambling forward to try and catch the cup before it fell and broke. He rummaged frantically around for any napkin or towel that may be lying in hopes to get the spill somewhat cleaned up. He ended up opting for a dirty hoodie, which he simply wiped across the mess before leaving it. He had to get back to this game.
His sudden halt just after taking first left you surprised. To your knowledge, he hadn’t gone off-road or gotten hit by anyone’s attack. In fact, on the mini-map, it looked like he wasn’t moving at all. You were left utterly puzzled.
Something was obviously wrong on his end, which left you feeling weird about continuing. The whole point of offering him this deal was so he could catch a break. If he was having an issue that prevented him from playing then what was the point? You decided to press on, but you couldn’t help but steal glances at the mini-map every few seconds to check on his status. If you ended up winning, you could always suggest playing for best 2-out-of-3 so that he had another chance.
By the time Donnie was able to turn his attention back to the match, he was all the way in 8th place… His heart dropped.
This was okay. This was fine. Donnie was totally not going to lose his mind.
He took a deep breath in as he got back into the groove of the race. This was still only the first lap. He still had a chance to catch up. He exhaled. This was not over.
It was easy enough for him to pass a few of the bots, getting him to fourth place by the end of the first lap. For the second lap, he took every shortcut in the book and resorted to more hostile tactics when needed. He wouldn’t hesitate to pelt anyone with turtle shells so long as they were in his way. By the end of that lap, he was back in second.
For a while, you were still nowhere in sight. However, after taking another shortcut to save himself more time, your character finally appeared over the horizon.
An evil grin stretched across his face. The last item box he got gave him a Bullet Bill.
“I am going to demolish you,” he growled and activated his item.
The distance between the two of you was gone before you could even process the fact that he was catching up. Your reaction time left something to be desired as he plowed right through you, sending you spinning off of the map.
After gasping and sputtering a few curses under your breath, a competitive grin appeared on your face. You gained control of your vehicle and made your way back onto the track, gradually building up speed. You only had a banana, which was useless unless you could get back in front of him.
Your initial intent on letting him win was forgotten as your competitive drive took over. In a few seconds, you were hot on his tail, trying your hardest to bump into one of his wheels to send him spinning. However, every time you inched to the side to get around him, he would find a way to avoid you.
Your body was growing tenser with each failed attempt, and your heart rate was increasing. The mini-map showed the finish line just around the corner, so you kept close to the inside curve in hopes that it would give you the slightest advantage you would need to pass Donnie and win. He had a similar idea though, and as you began coming up on his side, he veered into you, sending you flying.
“Fuck!” you cried. You could do nothing but wait for your character to stop spinning as you watched your opponent cross the finish line. You followed after him at a much slower pace. The game was over.
It took the turtle a moment to fully process what had just happened. He could only blink as he watched the winning screen play in front of him. His eyes widened, and the tips of his fingers covered his mouth as he began to smile.
Donnie’s desk chair was thrown back violently from the speed at which he stood up, hands raised high in the air. He couldn’t help but shriek out triumphant laughs as he began dancing around his room, shaking his booty every which way. Occasionally, he would trip over the forgotten trash and clothing that had built up on his floors, but he was quick to recover. The sweet smell of victory was too potent for him to be distracted by such frivolous things.
The guy was practically bouncing off the walls.
His sudden explosion of energy left him wheezing as he crawled his way back to his desk. With a maniacal grin on his face, he began typing to his opponent.
(11:31) Sir Von Ryan: HAHAHAH!!!
(11:31) Sir Von Ryan: TASTE THAT DEFEAT!!!
(11:31) Sir Von Ryan: TASTE IT!!
(11:31) Sir Von Ryan: I WAS PRACTICALLY IN LAST YET I STILL TRIUMPHED
(11:31) Sir Von Ryan: WHAT SAY YOU TO THAT, YOU VILLAIN
(11:32) Anon: shush it >:P
(11:32) Sir Von Ryan: Oh, yes. I am SURE you would love to brush your sorry excuse of a defeat under the rug. Now, wouldn’t you?
(11:32) Sir Von Ryan: Unfortunately for you, I shall not allow that!
(11:32) Anon: >:((((
(11:33) Anon: do you want your blueprints or not
(11:33) Sir Von Ryan: YES I DO
(11:33) Sir Von Ryan: RETURN THEM TO ME
He only had to wait a moment before a file popped up on his screen. Against his better judgment, he opened it right away. He was too eager to consider the possibility of it being a virus or some other type of malicious software. Lucky for him, you were true to your word. Within the file, he found every single blueprint that had been so savagely stolen from him.
He couldn’t help but tear up…
“My sweet, sweet babies!” he cried out. The monitor was quickly pulled into his embrace as he planted endless kisses on its screen.
♡ ♡ ♡
When the game ended, you sat frozen for a while. The loss made your heart feel a bit heavy. Usually, when you lost at games like these against your siblings, it was because you were letting them win. While you were intending on doing the same for Von Ryan, you were quickly forced to realize that you weren’t in that position of power when playing against him. He was far more skilled at games than you initially pegged him for. It was naive of you to assume that, just because you continuously bested him at code, you would be better in the area of gaming, as well.
Your attention was grabbed by several messages pinging from his end. It was evident that he was happy with himself as he rubbed your loss in your face. With a huff, you changed the subject back to his blueprints and sent them his way.
You released a long breath and slumped back in your seat, gaze still trained on your screen. What a pleasant surprise, you thought as a smile etched its way onto your cheeks. Not one of maliciousness or mischief, but of content. The way your heart raced during that game… It had been so long since you felt such an adrenaline rush. It made you eager to make another deal.
With a sigh, you finally turned off your PC and monitors and stood up. Due to your excessive LED décor, your shadow was constantly pivoting around you as you padded your way across the room. You glanced over to the wall of ceiling-to-floor windows, but all you could see were the reflections of the various neon signs and ambiance lighting you had hung all around your room.
With a huff, you threw yourself onto your bed and crawled into the center of it. You remained sitting up in a crisscrossed position as you opened your phone. With the click of a few buttons, your room went dark, and a new set of lights revealed themselves in front of you.
Your wall of windows framed the city of New York perfectly. You’ve tried more times than you can remember to count all the skyscrapers, but you would always end up losing track. Every night, the patterns of glowing windows differed. If Von Ryan really was the same Donnie as April’s friend, there was a chance that he was one of the thousand or so lights that helped to illuminate the city.
Your head fell to the side as you stared out at the man-made landscape. You hoped he was happy to have his designs back. You know that you would be if you were in his shoes. Despite going against the purple dragons in a way, you didn’t think that they would be too bothered. After all, so long as they had their copies of the blueprints, they would be able to proceed with their plans as they would if you hadn’t sent Donnie’s copies back to him. They would be none the wiser.
You leaned forward to get a better view of the streets. Your eyebrows knitted together as you took note of how few cars and people were out. You lived in a fairly busy area of Manhattan. Usually, those streets were far more crowded.
You checked the time on your phone and cringed. April had arranged plans with you early in the morning, and you should have been asleep already. Had everything really gone by that quickly?
You straightened out your legs and allowed your body to fall backward onto your mattress with a slight bounce. You tugged your covers completely over your head as you rolled onto your side and shut your eyes. However, after only a moment, you pulled the blanket back down just enough for you to peek over at your desk. Your eyes immediately landed on your monitor, and a soft smile adorned your lips.
You were right after all.
He was going to be quite the challenge for you.
♡ ♡ ♡
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alicepao13 · 2 hours
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Hudson and Rex S06E15
So, as I’m sure a lot of people have already figured out, we just watched the intended season finale. CityTV, you better hope I never get to cross that ocean. I mean, every season finale aside from the two where Peter Mitchell was in charge (coincidence?) were run of the mill episodes which could have fit anywhere in the season. Maybe it will be fitting for this season to start and end with viewers wondering what they watched. But I’m getting ahead of myself here and I might be wrong. Let’s focus on 15 which may very well be the best episode of the season for me, probably tied with S06E04.
The spoiled scene with Charlie and Sarah’s mentioned anniversary. Rex totally wants to stay with Jesse after their “celebration”. I’m trying to figure whether Jesse is pretending to be naive or is actually being naive about it. Or if the whole response is the writers being unable to outright say that Charlie and Sarah really spent their anniversary having sex all night.
Speaking of, two years, Charlie Hudson? What are you waiting for, an epiphany to hit you in the head? Oh, wait.
What do you mean, we didn’t save the day? There’s a dead woman? Huh? 
Nice bomb explosion by the way.
“My bosses are gonna hate this but tell me more”. lol Jesse
How did we end up as security detail for the woman who might become prime minister?
Look, I like when there’s a case where they’re toying with supernatural elements. That’s why I loved Castle so much. And Jesse is always eager to believe. Charlie on the other hand looks like he’s got tons to say on the subject. Rex too. Apparently he doesn’t believe in time travel either.
Any so called time traveler should come back to the present with the numbers for the lottery. That would be ample proof for me :P
Can I say how much I like the camera work on this one? Good directing by John Vatcher.
Rex is getting so many pats in this episode. Deserved.
This campaign manager is on par with the Veep campaign managers. And by that I mean he’s ruthless and self-centered and I want to punch him.
That food now possibly has dog hair in it.
I come from a country where it’s pretty normal to put a musical montage right in the middle of an episode (even a dance number), so I’m not going to say anything about the needless song.
Thunk! There goes Charlie. Again. I’ll spare y’all the concussion speech. Besides, time moves in mysterious ways in this show, maybe it’s already been six months since episode 11.
Seriously, why do you tell Rex to chase a lead if you can’t survive being ten feet away from him?
I can’t remember the last time any of my shows put a bomb vest on one of the main characters. The latest that I remember was FBI but it was on a minor character. That had been a great episode too.
I haven’t yet decided whether that bomb vest looks too amateurish. To be fair, given who the culprit was, it shouldn’t look professional.
Sarah finding Charlie as he has a bomb vest on is like, the best thing that has happened lately on this show. Her look. His look as he realizes that he’s got his entire family now in this (and the mantra of no, no, no that must be playing in his head, I’m filling the blanks, don’t mind me). The slight zooming in of the camera in both of their shots, denoting the direness of the situation.
I was almost waiting for Charlie to say “this isn’t as enjoyable as it was last night” as Sarah was touching him while she’s checking the bomb vest. It writes itself, come on.
In my last review post I wrote that I was hoping the earphones would serve for Charlie to call Sarah and tell her goodbye or something like that. This certainly exceeded my expectations.
We’re a bit late for love confessions under duress but when Charlie was asked about whether Sarah was his wife and he replied “Not yet”, that was a nice moment. At least we know where his head is at.
Their silent communication. They’re so in sync.
Elsewhere, Joe and Jesse are quietly trying to figure out a way to save innocent people and somehow not get their friend blown up.
Superintendent Joe Donovan making airplane noises. I laughed so much.
They are holding hands as they’re walking to their doom! Oh, by the way, interesting music choice. I wonder if it’s score created for the show or non-original music. I’ve certainly not heard it before on the show.
Goodbye kiss! I love it here. And look at the shot of Charlie and Rex leaving as Sarah is staying behind.
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Me: no way it’s the convict. Five minutes later: it’s the fucking convict!!! Ten minutes later: it’s not the convict???
Ha, Charlie using the mute button which is pretty convenient but almost no one uses on calls. 
Okay, they fooled me with the bomber. But the takedown went pretty much as I expected. Nice communication with Rex through hand signals, again. Although the detonator flying off the lady’s hand… anything could have happened.
Rex’s influence to the system will be more K9s lol. They may also have ensured unlimited funding for the SJPD.
Can the time traveling guy tell us if Charlie is going to propose anytime soon? Or is the “not yet” considered a non-proposal proposal?
This is the first time I’m hearing about the so called Alice in wonderland syndrome.
“Everybody needs a Rex”. Ah, yes. Our catchphrase.
Charlie, put the phone down. When is that man clocking out? Who’s going to make sure Rex is getting adequate rest? I need to talk to his superior. Joe!
Well, I kept saying that I wanted Charlie and Sarah to be in danger again together since they hadn’t after they had become a couple, and I got my wish, thank you, show. We could have had an aftermath scene with them but I’m not going to complain about it in an otherwise good episode.
Promo: I’m beyond frustrated that they keep shuffling the episodes and they wouldn’t even give it a rest when they got the season finale or the 100th episode on their hands. Today’s (yesterday’s) episode would have been a better 100th episode than The Rookie’s for sure (which is embarrassing for The Rookie). But instead we get to watch it as episode 99 and have a run of the mill case for the 100th, which, unless it ends up in a huge celebration scene, is going to fall flat. We basically end off exactly as we started, expect I now know this is 100% CityTV’s fault.
Speaking of, is CityTV even going to acknowledge that it’s the 100th episode? Is anyone? I’m obviously not expecting the magnitude of promotion ABC gave The Rookie or 911 this season (and that was a lot) but something that shows they’re not completely neglecting Hudson and Rex. It doesn’t seem like we’re getting renewal news anytime soon, so I’d settle for them celebrating the episodes they already filmed. There are quite a few production companies involved too, this does not only fall on CityTV. If Shaftesbury wants to celebrate this milestone, I won’t say no.
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crudetautology · 1 year
Text
So Guy, Paul and their sister Maria Williams did an interview in 2017, before TM NZ, with Guy and Paul in a room and Maria through speakerphone (Paul is also apparently playing with a yo-yo during the interview) and I really wanted to post some quotes from it but I ended up just copypasting half of the article to be honest, so I put it under keep reading, but here's a taste: - Maria thinks that Guy stole her personality (yes, really) - "BURN IN HELL PAUL!" - Paul tries to interject in a discussion Guy and Maria are having and the interviewer transcribes it thusly: Paul: [Something that cannot be heard underneath his older siblings]
Guy: So what’s the angle of the article? ‘How did a comedy dynasty come to be?’ Maria has a very interesting theory, don’t you Maria? Can you hear us Maria?
Maria: I can hear you a little bit. What did you just say?
Guy: I was saying Maria has an interesting theory that I stole her personality.
Maria: This is a hundred percent true. All of a sudden, Guy started loving these things he hated. For example, Taylor Swift, who I don’t love any more but I did at the time as like a 19 year old girl. And musicals, for example Wicked. Our whole family went to Wicked and I cried like a baby and our whole family meets afterwards and Guy thought it was lame and dumb…
Guy: I enjoyed Wicked.
Maria: …and now he’s the biggest fan of Wicked.
Guy: This is an unfair allegation! Can I say, I enjoyed Wicked and enjoyed the whole experience of going to Wicked in Melbourne. I remember it fondly.
Maria: I remember you not liking it fondly and I remember thinking–
Guy: Paul can be the tie-breaker. Do you remember my enjoyment level of Wicked?
Paul: Don’t remember it. I loved the show and I had a great night.
Maria: Also, Guy was also quite a grumpy person.
Guy: Yeah and I’m…
Maria: And he was always quite loud and quite grumpy…
Guy: Isn’t that my comedy persona though?
Maria: And so then what happened, he was quite grumpy and didn’t talk to people and suddenly he was a really nice person and was charismatic and talked to everyone, so people started being like ‘Oh Maria! You’re charismatic and you talk to everyone, when did your brother become you?’
Guy: So Maria, are you suggesting that my comedy career was based on my stealing your personality?
Maria: Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. You ripped off my personality.
Paul: Can I just compare this to the rapper Rick Ross…
Guy: She’s saying I ripped off her personality.
Paul: Rick Ross did it. His real name’s not Rick Ross.
Maria: I’m not the only… I’m not the only person who thinks this, like, friends of mine who you used to not talk to, Mum thinks this…
Paul: Rick Ross…
Maria: …extended family members think this…
Guy: Maria’s got evidence. See this is quite a tense situation though, because I think I’ve been reasonably successful as a comedian and the best known of the three of us so far and it’s horrible to hear that I’ve done this by pushing my sister, my only sister, down. It’s evil!
Paul: Rick Ross worked as a prison guard and then there was a criminal called Ricky Ross or something and he stole his name and persona.
Interviewer: So you guys are the Rick Ross of New Zealand comedy.
Maria: So I don’t mean specifics to your stand-up because obviously my stand-up is of a higher quality-
Guy: Oh ho! Shots fired early on!
Maria: I mean like, your TV personality generally, like the stuff..
Guy: Definitely not my TV personality but maybe what I did on The Edge.
Maria: Can I just say, so far this has been exactly how I expected this to be: me and Guy yelling over the top of each other and not even being sure if Paul’s in the room.
Guy: Paul’s been talking it’s just you can’t hear him.
Maria: Oh OK. So Paul’s there? [...]
Paul: [Something that cannot be heard underneath his older siblings]
[...]
Maria: I got the family into the Nelson Youth Theatre Company, or NYTC as we so affectionately call it.
Paul: Well, Mum…
[...]
Guy: Why is this so long? I’ll summarise this for you…
Paul: She danced to ‘Rock DJ’ by Robbie Williams.
Guy: And it killed. It killed. It was hilarious. It was gold and it was the start. It lit a fire!
Maria: Guy! I just want to finish my sentence! It’s not difficult! [...]
Guy: So as you can tell, and I think this is the same with any comedy, is that it kind of like verges on reality. And like, as you can tell with this argument where you can’t tell if me and Maria are joke-arguing or real-arguing, that’s where the comedy comes from a little bit.
Maria: I’m one hundred percent real-arguing!
Guy: Okay, sure. My point was going to be that one of our most legendary family comedy moments was a famous moment when we were downstairs in a room similar to this in Nelson and Maria was watching TV– Maria what TV show were you watching?
Maria: I don’t remember.
Guy: She was watching Full House or one of her shows.
Maria: It was probably like Ugly Betty…
Guy: Paul, you tell the story.
Paul: So she was watching a TV show, can’t remember…
Guy: Probably Full House or ‘Olsen Twins’ (Editor’s Note: Olsen Twins is not, and has never been, a show.)
Maria: No!
Paul: …and I wanted to play XBox on the downstairs TV so I said, ‘When can I go on the TV?’ and she was like, ‘This show finishes at 6’ or whatever. I come down at 6 and she’s watching the next show that’s just started and I’m like, ‘Can I go on now?’ She was like, ‘Oh but this is…’
Guy: She was addicted to TV! She was like, ‘The Olsen twins are on now I can’t get off the TV!’
Paul: So I only had one choice – I’m not proud of it, but I snitched. Obviously now I have a no-snitch mentality but at the time the no-snitch policy wasn’t in play yet and so I went and told Mum. Mum came down and was like, ‘Maria you’ve got to give the TV to Paul now.’ Maria burst into tears, went halfway up the staircase, turned around and went, ‘BURN IN HELL PAUL! BURN IN HELL’ and then went up to her room.
Guy: Now this is something that Maria remembers fondly as a story that we would bring up at every family gathering, party, the time Maria told Paul to burn in hell because she had to stop watching Full House on television.
Maria: No! No! That is completely inaccurate. OK. I just remember… I don’t think it escalated that quickly–
Guy: It went from zero to 100 pretty quick. My point being is that when Maria–
Maria: No shut up! Let me talk! I was trying to insult Paul in a way, without swearing… and being the meanest insult of all time, and having gone to Catholic school, ‘burn in hell’ was the best I could come up with.
Maria: I did not bring this up at parties–
Guy: No, we did–
Maria: It started to come up because Guy kept bringing it up–
Guy: Yeah, and I’m still bringing it up, like twenty years later… OK my point was going to be that I’ve used the catchphrase ‘burn in hell’ throughout my career ‘cause it’s so valuable, like, ‘cause it’s really hard to insult people without swearing, as she just said, and it’s really hard to really show anger without having good acting skills or swearing which are two things I don’t have so I’ve used ‘burn in hell’ all the time and taken that psychotic aspect of Maria that day and used it, like if you’ve seen anything I’ve done on TV, that’s why I’m aware that Maria’s saying she thinks she influenced my TV career, like, that psychotic character that’s like ‘GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SHOP! BURN IN HELL! GET OUTTA HERE’ like I do that all the time and it’s based… it’s inspired by Maria–
Maria: I know! It’s just further proof that Guy has just ripped off–
Guy: That’s what I was saying! You’re the inspiration! So Maria’s obviously a huge comedy influence on the family. 
[...]
Guy: I was doing a bleak gig on like a Thursday night, and I’m embarrassed to say I did this hack joke, but um, someone spilled a glass and the classic hack comedy response which I did that night ‘cause I was desperate is ‘Uh oh! Dad’s home!’ and uh, turns out it was actually my dad.
My dad was in the audience. So I was still doing this gag and he was like ‘Yeah, Dad is home.’ And I was like ‘Dad, you’re drunk, go home.’ Like that’s normally the response, like ‘Dad, you’re drunk, go home.’ And, uh, it was my dad.
Later he said he was trying to help out with the show by heckling and and I go, ‘What are you doing at the gig, Gary?!’ And he’s like, ‘Your mum kicked me outta the house!’ and that got the biggest laugh of the night.
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Hi buttercup if possible could I request Voice kink , Praise kink, w some Edge play please with Happy being the Dom.
Masterlist
Hell yeah you can! Thank you for being my first request, I hope you enjoy.
My Brave Girl
Contains: Consent and kink negotiation, fluff, Dom Happy/sub Reader, voice kink, praise kink, gun play, fingering, P in V, aftercare.
1.7K words
Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #sp's kinkfest pick and mix
Happy helps you get over your fear of guns
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You shuttered as Happy sat at the table cleaning his many guns, it wasn't like you disagreed with what he did for a living; it's just that you hated the sight of the tools of death he carried around with him. Thanks to Jax's hard work and the Club staying on top of any trouble, it had been years since you needed to use one to keep yourself safe from the Sons' enemies, and you liked it that way.
"Are you alright little girl?"
You shook your head, "no, I don't know, I wish you do that in the garage, I hate having those things in the house."
He smiled softly and offered his hand, bringing you to the kitchen table away from the guns, "I know y/n but an unclean gun is an unsafe one and I don't have the light or space to properly clean them there. You wanna tell me why you hate them so much?"
You cast your eyes towards the dining table, "because they hurt people Hap, and I'm worried that one day you'll be on the receiving end."
He nodded, "alright then, what did you do when I was afraid of that snake in the backyard."
You smiled, "I explained all about them so you didn't have a reason to be scared anymore."
Happy nodded, "you did. Would you like me to help you in the same way? I'd like you to say yes because if you carried a gun, it would make me worry less but I don't want you to do anything you really don't want to."
"Can I have some time to think about it?"
He smiled, "of course little girl, as much time as you need."
It took a few days but you came to Happy with an open mind and a trusting heart, "I want to get over this. You're right, I need to be able to protect myself without being scared of the thing I'm using, things might not always be this good."
Happy smiled, "I'm glad you want to try." He sat you down at the table and took out his gun, putting it on the table, "you tell me if you need a break."
You nodded, "want should I do."
He put a hand on your leg, "well, what do you remember from when you were carrying one?"
You thought for a moment, "safety first, literally."
That got you a smile, "good girl." You picked up the gun and checked that the safety was on then made sure the chamber was empty. "Ok, what's next?"
Your skin felt tight as an unpleasant feeling took over your body, "make sure the sight is on target."
"Yep."
You raised the gun but a vision of a bleeding Happy had you stopping, "I don't think I want to do this anymore." You put the gun back on the table and Happy took it out of your sight.
"That's alright, maybe we can try something else?"
You took a deep breath, "alright, I trust you and I'll try anything."
He smiled softly, "and leaned in closer, "how about, I walk you through everything while we do something a little more enjoyable?"
The tone in his voice let you know what he was thinking, "you think that will work, mixing guns with sex?"
He nodded, "I do, but you can always say no."
You gathered your resolve, "why not, if it doesn't work then we'll just do something else."
Happy nodded, "that's right."
****
It was two days later when you had the free time to try it Happy's way, he wanted to make sure the whole day was free and easy so there was no stress and you both had clear heads. Happy set up the living room with some blankets and pillows and pulled the coffee table close so you could use it comfortably. You started sitting down at the dining room table, fully clothed with no thoughts of sex on your mind, "what don't you want to do today?"
You swallowed, "I don't want to touch it, maybe you can just explain it all to me, I do like your voice."
Happy smiled, "I can do that, just give me a few minutes to get everything ready, I have an idea."
When he returned, he sat back down and laid a hand on your cheek, "I want you to tell me if you even a little uncomfortable and we'll see if we can change some things around, alright?"
You nodded, "I promise I'll tell you."
He took your hand and led you to the little area in the lounge room he had set up, standing you in the middle of the room, "can I remove your clothes?"
You nodded, "of course, can you lose yours?" He chuckled and reached forward, taking each item off while taking the time to caress your skin as he went, his lips pressing to his favourite spots.
When you were both naked, he led you to the arranged pillows and sat you down with your back to his chest, the handgun was laid out on a light blue cloth, there were at least thirty parts. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your ear, "I'm going to walk you through the parts ok, then we'll go from there."
You nodded, "ok, that's sound good."
His voice was soft in your ear as he pointed to the first part, it was a long cylinder, smooth with a little square section at the end, "do you know what that part is?"
You did, "that's the barrel."
He kissed your neck, "good girl, what about that bit?"
You shrugged, "I don't know." His hands moved to your shoulders, "that's the extractor, it pushes the spent cartridge out. What about that part?"
It looked like a funny nail, "the firing pin."
Happy smiled and kissed you again, "good girl, and these parts?"
He pointed to a set of springs, "not sure."
"Part of the extractor, you doing alright?"
You nodded, "I'm going good, this isn't scary or upsetting at all, I kinda like it."
Happy turned your head with his fingers on your chin and kissed your lips, one hand moving down your body to run his fingers through your slit, "I can tell, you're very wet."
You giggled, "you have a very nice voice."
He chuckled, "mmhh. What about this part?"
You smiled, "that's east, that's a magazine."
He nibbled your ear as the fingers on your clit sped up, "yeah that was easy but you're doing so well for me."
He paused for a second to slide two fingers inside you, "you good?" You gasped and he bit your neck, "that's not an answer."
As he soothed the bite, you leaned into his lips, "I'm good."
He smiled against your skin, "good, can you tell me what that part is?" He pointed to a large part of the gun, the part that made it look most like the horrible thing it was but as he did so, he pressed his fingertips to your G-spot.
"Umm the handle?"
He chuckled and kissed his way from your neck to your ear, "yep, it's call the frame because of that little bit in front but you're pretty much right."
It got harder as you got closer the to edge but Happy took his time, giving you enough tie to answer as he pointed to each part, always praising you when you got something right and gently informing you when if you didn't know. He was hard against your ass, he had been since this started but he paid no mind to it, focusing on you. He stopped when you moaned like you were right about to cum.
"Let go, you've been so good for me." He turned your head with his free hand and kissed you as you crested the peak, "good girl." You had a few parts to go but suddenly, the parts on the table were just that, bits of metal that meant nothing,
"Hap?"
He smiled against your lips, "yes little girl?"
You mirrored his smile, "I don't care about the gun anymore." His face broke out into a grin and pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth, sucking you off of him before kissing you hard.
He pulled back enough for you to spin in his arms and press your chest to his, "I'm more scared anymore."
Happy smiled, "I can see that, I'm so proud of you." He pressed his forehead to yours, his hard cock against your slit distracting you from anything else going on, "do you want more?"
You nodded, "yes please."
He chuckled, "I can do that." He grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down your slit before sliding inside you and pausing so you could adjust.
His voice was tight as he spoke, "you good."
You moaned, "I'm great." He started moving slowly, his hip rocking against yours, he ran his hands over your cheeks, his fingertips slow and tender, "you're so beautiful," he kissed your lips, "and smart," then your cheek, "and brave," then your other cheek, "and you're all mine."
You smiled, "all yours."
Happy's hips sped up and his free hand rubbed your clit, "fuck you're tight." Your head fell against his shoulder as he hit his stride, then you were cumming around him.
"Good girl, can you give me one more?" He gasped, his fingers not slowing.
"I think so."
He ran his thumb over your lip, smiling as you took it into your mouth, "you think so, well let's see if we can clear that up." He shifted you so he could push deeper, wrapping his arms around you to hug you to him, "be a good girl and give me one more." You were powerless to resist as you contracted around him, "there we go, my good girl."
He fell limp against him as he rammed himself into you, he was grunting in your ear like an animal then his hand clutched you to him as he came inside you. There was a beat of peace as you exchanged breath, "that was nice."
Happy chuckled at your tone, all soft and worn out, "yeah it was." He picked up a water bottle he had put off to the side and took a sip before passing it to you, "have something to drink for me?"
You nodded and took it from him, "thank you."
He smiled softly, his hand drifting over your cheek, "I'm so proud of you."
You flopped your forehead against his chest, "can we get take out?"
Happy chuckled, "of course, what are in in the mood for?"
You smiled, "Chinese?" He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Chinese it is then."
Fin
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archandshri · 12 days
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12 April ‘24 - [arch] Making a Comic in a Week, Disability and Burnout (all unrelated, of course!)
Hey Shri and folks!! LOVED seeing part three of the Lionheart Brothers cover. Stunning!! And awesome to see your process. Also cool to see what you’ve been looking at lately - I’ve just finished a rewatch of Firefly and the characters are still living in my brain a bit. 
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Life is a bit relentless, huh. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy working on disability stuff - meal prepping, sorting silly government forms, all that sort of thing. Exhausting and super easy to burn out on - but also sets me up for the future in my personal life and for illustration! I want to discuss the balance of pushing and burnout this week with an excellent example - I tried foreshadowing to make a comic in a week. 
When I was in uni, it was easy to create cool stuff regularly - you’re constantly receiving prompts, doing activities, getting feedback etc. I still have access to these things, especially through my shared studio community, but it’s not as easy as it used to be. I miss creating finished books, in particular, so frequently. So! I challenged myself to make a comic in time for Something’s Fishy Zine Fair in Plymouth tomorrow, which was just over a week from when I started.
I had come up with the concept for the comic while travelling, written the script and done a couple of sketches. I often come up with concepts while travelling - I just don’t often follow through :P Here’s a couple of sketches I did on the journey.
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I’ve been chatting to lots of people about what they enjoy about art - I’ve noticed that I tend to crave the end of the project and having the physical thing with high expectations of myself, which doesn’t lead to a very enjoyable process. Many people I’ve spoken to enjoy the ‘zone’, the focus of the project where you’re just figuring stuff out and not thinking about anything else. Bearing this in mind, I wanted to make the process as fun as possible - this comic is for fun and not for the purpose of having the thing at the end. 
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I started with a few development sketches of the characters and the vibe. I used ink and my funky kakimori dip pen, plus some brushes. These mediums are hard to control, which makes them good for development for me - they don’t have to be good, this time is for gestural drawings and ideas generation. Some continued doodles in my sketchbook from some downtime :) Fish wouldn't leave my brain.
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After a bit of character development, I began by adapting my script into pages - I read the script and try to feel the vibes on how I want to pace the comic, considering:
How much dialogue and plot do I want to put on one page?
Do I want it to be more text or image-heavy?
Do I want it to feel fast and snappy, or slow and dreamy?
Which parts of dialogue feel like a page-turner?
Are there any twists that should be separated from the rest of the scene by a page-turn?
Are there any moments that should sit next to each other on spreads?
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You can see me changing some dialogue around, writing as I draw a bit. Also playing around with some weird looking fish?? With noses???
I got a bit stuck at this stage. I was scared my script wasn’t good enough. And worried about if I could even draw fish. After a couple of chats with art friends, and some rambling in my slides, I reminded myself that the lesson this time is fun!! Have fun goddamn it!! No point doing it if you’re not having fun. (it’s not like we make any money from riso printed zines anyway)
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Screenshots from my slides - these things are wonderful for gathering inspiration and venting when you run into a problem with the project.
So I decided to just go for it. Not even thumbnail, but just take a scene and draw it. I asked a studio friend to choose a number, and I drew that scene.
Because of the chatty style of the comic, and how much dialogue there was gonna be, I knew there would have to be a LOT of panels. I decided to make it A4, and use a 8x6 grid. I’ll draw the images at A3, and than scale them down to A4 when it comes to printing.
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left: A3 grid on the lightbox, for tracing over || Right: A4 grid with boxes of different sizes for me to reference while choosing the layout - this way I can see the final print size
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First drafts of a couple of random pages from Moon Noodles.
The first day I drew several pages that I was really happy with! It gave me a lot more confidence in my script - seeing it come to life with the characters on the page - some pages even got some laughs which was nice. I would look at the page plan, script, and spend a few minutes thinking about the pacing and how I wanted the dialogue on the page, and the go straight in with the dip pen - with the awareness that it might be wrong. This process taught me an important lesson - you have to just do it. The thing is, if you do it and it’s bad, you just do it again but different. Repeat. Staring at that script thinking it wasn’t good enough wasn’t actually going to get anything done, be fun OR make nice stuff. You have to do the thing. Then you make it better.
The other thing I learnt from this process was to give it space. There was a day where I did one page, hated it and thought the pacing was off, and spent the next day trying to translate it into two pages. It didn’t work. I came back the next day and realised the first page I’d done was fine and just needed a couple of tweaks. Do the thing. Let it be.
Here’s a little picture of my setup.
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(Sorry all of Printhaus for hoarding the light box and getting ink all over it :( love u)
Useful stuff!!!!
Finished pages to refer to, plus more A3 paper underneath for future pages
Laptop with script
Dip pen, ink and water for keeping that little guy clean!
development sketches for relevant scenes
Page plan (you can see I have shortened it considerably since last time - now it's 20-24 pages and noted on scraps of paper so I can move them around if there's any changes of plan)
A4 sheet with boxes to show the sizes of the final print
also scissors??? i don't remember why they're here
But then monday morning came. I realised that if I wanted to get it all printed by friday, I needed to:
Plan and 12 pages on Monday, and 12 on tuesday
Get the final files for every one of the 24 pages by Thursday 
Print friday morning
Travel down to devon Friday afternoon
Fair Saturday
Not only is that basically impossible, but it would be very bad for my health, make for a rushed comic, and most importantly, not be fun. The thing is, I’ve made whole comics in a couple days before. I figured I could still do it. But that’s not actually a good thing - my skills and taste have increased, I'm aiming for bigger, more ambitious projects and yet I expect the timelines to stay the same? It doesn’t exactly work like that now, does it?
But I kept going anyway. 
Tuesday morning, I decide to get the cover put together so I can get the preorder post-out. I get pulled into an unexpected meeting, and then spend the rest of the day inking this thing and getting the files sorted. At this point, I know for sure It’s not possible to get this done. Thankfully my two Printhaus besties were in. They helped me drop it. I love this comic, it feels fun and joyous and I’ve enjoyed working on it - lets not rush it and end up with a bad product that will bother me. Let’s take time, explore it and really enjoy the process!!!
All is not lost for Something’s Fishy Zine Fair, though! Originally, I had planned to do a print of the Moon Noodles Cover for preorders only, but why not print that for Something’s Fishy?? Anyone who buys the print will also get a discount code for the pre-order :D (also here’s the pre-order link)
So here’s a few images of the Moon Noodles cover print and the process!! I hope to see some of you at Something’s Fishy. It’s a joy to visit Plym again :D
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Sketch printed out at A3, and 2 of the layers. I scanned these in and edited them on photoshop to get the files ready to print.
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Coming to terms with the fact that 1) I don’t have illustration superpowers even if my expectations are that high and 2) I’m disabled (yes it’s been years and it’s still hard to face) is really hard!! I need to spend most of my time when I’m well preparing for when I’m not AND fight the urge to work until I burn out, which I always lean towards because it’s nice escapism. 
The thing is that living, and not being too exhausted to move is much more important than a comic. And if I am gonna spend my functioning time making comics, they’re gonna have to be enjoyable to make. Otherwise your life slips away from you and you haven’t been really living it.
Hope that hasn’t got too deep for you. I think that stuff is important to face, especially since the creative life is so incredibly busy.
Thank you for reading this goddamn essay, I hope that it helped in some way! As usual, feel free to drop an ask if you have any questions. 
Chat soon :D Archie <3
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cidthesquid · 1 month
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A Quick Update! - Style Savvy Trendsetter #09
Hello all! I know many of you may have followed primarily for Style Savvy content, And that's 100% okay! I want everyone to be able to enjoy whatever part of my content they want, however they want!
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I would actually start to feel bad if people felt obligated to read my extra ramblings, or check out posts that don't interest them. I make these post for my own enjoyment and journaling my digital fashion journey, across multiple games! So as Iong as I find new experiences I'll keep posting! (Questions/Comments are always welcome!) ----- Style Savvy tendsetter has slowed down quite a bit, so I have not had much to post about, But I feel like it's been long enough to share at least a quick update! First, Chad is getting a little worried about the massive amount of clothes getting sent to my apartment:
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He's not very confrontational about it, and it seems like genuine curiosity, and he's a really nice guy, so I won't hold it against him. :) I also ended up entering another fashion contest! I'm still stuck in beginner rank, until the story progresses further. But I think I was able to come up with a cute outfit to match the girly theme:
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There's not much challenge at this level, but it's a fun little distraction.
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While I'm at least playing a few days a week now, I actually took a break for a while, my adhd just had trouble staying engaged with a game that was this laser focused on one specific activity. It actually being stuck in a waiting room for a doctors appointment, for me to boot it up on my phone again. (don't worry, it was just routine)
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Contests don't really give you any money, and only give you a single clothing item for willing, so while replaying them is fun, it's not a great use of your time. I also changed up my outfit for the first time in over a month, I really liked the green kimono, but the pattern was a bit much for wearing around town. So I decided to mix it up a bit:
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I found a really nice combination of items that offers a shoulder-less look that I did not think was possible in this game.
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Yeah, it's fairly monochromatic, that's pretty much my 'panic play', when trying something new, even if it's not boring, at least it's not messy. haha!
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The furniture shop also just opened, so I can now start decorating my character's room!
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They seem very excited about it! haha
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I decided to go with a mint/pastel purple color scheme, mostly because it's one of the few 3 color matches I could remember at the time for brown/tan, so I figured it would match the flooring well. I'd never want to live here IRL, but I think it looks pretty nice for the game.
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Also, fun fact, your apartment's wallpaper will also be applied as your background for the apartment menu. And yeah, that's really it for this update, I'll leave you with one extra screenshot, and those who are interested/comfortable can stick around for the bonus existential stuff! :P
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---- /!\ Caution: End of Cute screenshots, Mostly unedited Ramblings beyond this point /!\ Alright, so again, keeping this confined to thoughts I had when playing the game. I've already changed my character's name once, to make them better fit their new identity, and to match the name of the blog. But whenever I see the name 'Cid' printed out in game, It still feels a little weird, Maybe I had just gotten used to the other name as I used it in monster hunter, and other games? It may also because of the masculine connotations from that name, especially since I've been playing a lot of Final Fantasy XIV recently. Because of that and other FF games whenever I see that name, I think of a gruff older man who's also an airship engineer! XD So my initial thoughts would simply be to change it to something similar, like 'Sid', as that could have a more feminine feel that could feel less out of place. And I know most won't relate to this, but this line of thinking often gets me into meta thoughts like: "Why do you feel you NEED to change the name? It's all in your head!", "Is this what YOU really want, or what you think is expected based on others possible perspectives?", "Is this just your way of ignoring your feeling about being a guy playing these games?" So what seems as simple as changing one letter, brings up a whole lot of stuff I'm not currently equipped to unpack. It can be hard to keep track of how you actually feel outside of external pressure. Trying to find my own answers currently, feels like it's starting to unravel some of the stuff I already thought I'd worked through and processed. But it's not a huge deal for now, so I figure I can just focus less on finding a solution, it can take things one at a time, and come back to this idea when I'm better ready to deal with it!
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sergeifyodorov · 11 months
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I just wanted to say that, living in the uk, I have never cared about ice hockey before in my life, but my twin sent me your wonderful summary of the 2015 draft class and now I'm rooting for Jack Eichel and Las Vegas in the Stanley Cup finals (though we probably won't be able to watch most of the matches). We both agree that it was a very enjoyable piece, and it was interesting and detailed whilst being understandable for someone who doesn't know much about hockey. Also, what do the letters preceding peoples' blog titles and display names mean?
Oh my god, I am so honoured that I could get you into it!
The letters in people's blog titles (I presume you're talking about things like the "x-" in, say, my "x-narrativeposting" title) have to do with their teams clinching playoffs. I'm not sure how much you know about sports/North American sports in general, but a hockey standings table looks something like this:
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This is an example from the middle of the season. The GP means "games played" -- all NHL teams play 82 games in a standard season, but because they're approximately every other day, not all teams have the same number of games played at any point in the middle. Teams receive two points for a win and one point for an overtime loss -- in this way, they have a maximum amount of potential points, and, as the season goes by, that amount slowly diminishes.
Eventually, teams at the bottom and top will separate out -- their points will become high enough that even losing the rest of their games in regulation (zero additional points) would guarantee them one of the playoff spots, or their points will become low enough relative to everyone else that winning all of their remaining games would still not get them to pass enough teams to make it into the playoffs. The former occurrence is called "clinching" a playoff spot, and the latter is "elimination."
On a standings table, the teams that clinch spots are marked with an x -, to show that they cannot fall below halfway, and the teams that are eliminated are marked with an e -. Here is an example:
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In this image, the Columbus Blue jackets have been eliminated, and both the Hurricanes and Devils have clinched a spot.
For playoff teams, though, after they have clinched a simple playoff spot, there are further things to potentially clinch seeding-wise, so these things are also marked with a different letter:
the President's Trophy, awarded to the best regular season team in the league, is given either a * or a p -
the other conference leader (the one who did not win the President's Trophy) is given a z -
the other two division leaders are given a y-
Here is a table at the end of the year:
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The Vegas Golden Knights have the best record in the Western Conference, so they have a z. The Oilers, Kings, and Kraken all have a playoff spot, but not a division title, so they have an x. The Flames, Canucks, Sharks, and Ducks are all eliminated.
As to finally answer your question: most fans are mainly aligned with one team, so to show their allegiance they'll put an x next to their name (or y/z/p, or e if they're funny) on the day their team clinches a spot! Playoffs are a stressful but exciting time, and the month or so leading up to playoffs when teams either clinch or don't is a fun buildup to the big payoff (or, since I'm a Leafs fan, big disappointment.)
As a sidenote, re your comments about living in the UK: if your interest in hockey survives the offseason and you want to keep watching, I would suggest picking an Eastern team (sorry Eichel!), because in most cases games will start at 7pm local time, which is midnight in the UK for Eastern teams but more like three in the morning for the Western ones.
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