#something something about an entire generation having to grow up oh so fast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannie-dul-set · 9 months

Text

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [4].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. general menace behavior, swearing, too much mentions of kissing and making out, it's beomgyu's turn to have a mental breakdown. WORD COUNT. 3.6k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly

NOTE. the chapter title is clickbait, actually. anyway, it's the beomgyu chapter! this one is for both the e2l enjoyers and haters!! hope you enjoy whatever the fuck this is!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 4 — kisses? kisses.

IT’S NOT OFTEN THAT YOU GET TO STAY AT HOME FOR AN ENTIRE DAY. Supposedly, you and your friends had plans for the beach, but due to some circumstances that included one of their cars breaking down, it had to be canceled. You send an “Oh no, that’s too bad. Sad face. Sad face,” through text before punching your fist into the air in celebration and jumping back into the warm, welcoming embrace of your bedsheets, practically melting into the mattress.

Your plan is to stay in bed the whole day. Until you get hungry, so you force yourself out of your blankets and zombie-walk all the way down to the kitchen where you uncharacteristically find Soobin tinkering with the oven. He’s usually holed up in his room doing god knows what, so you’re curious to see what he’s up to.

You clear your throat to indicate your arrival. “Hey.” Your voice causes him to drop the tray a little too early onto the counter. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um. I was baking a little.” You’ve come to discover that Soobin can only talk to you when he’s not looking at you, so you say nothing when he focuses his gaze on the rather delicious looking arrangement of chocolate chip cookies on the tray instead of maintaining eye contact with you. “Y—you can have some— ah, careful! It’s still hot.”

It is still hot but it also tastes really fucking good. The cookie crumbles in your mouth and your eyes sparkle as you shoot him a thumbs up of approval. “Whoa. You can sell these.”

Soobin keeps his head down, but his pink ears are on full display. It’s cute. He lets you snack on as many cookies as you want and unties his equally pink apron. “Ah. I forgot.” You stop munching on the third cookie and raise a curious brow. His voice is hesitant when he says, “I have to leave for an appointment, but the cookies haven’t cooled yet so I can’t store them in the pantry yet.”

“You can leave it to me. Go do your thing.”

“Then...excuse me.”

He takes out the rest of the trays from the oven before shuffling off. Not long after, Heeseung’s nose pokes through the kitchen, beckoned by the scent of the freshly baked goods. “Soobin made them,” you show off on his behalf. He stuffs a bite into his cheeks before leaving. Apparently he also has somewhere to be.

It’s like Soobin’s cookies are luring them all down. Jake rushes down and wordlessly grabs a bunch before running out the door, saying that he’s late for his flight or something. Sunghoon shows up next, asking if you slept well last night as he picks out once from the batch, and your heart swells with tender pride at his attempt to strike a conversation. They grow up so fast. “Take care,” you bid him goodbye. He nods and heads out for his shift at The Lounge.

Jay also comes down for the cookies. “Got any plans today, champ?” he asks.

“Absolutely nothing at all.”

“Cool beans.”

“Very cool.” You push the tray towards him. He steals another bite. “Where are you headed?”

“Some lecture about fabrics. I heard they’ll be giving out some very nice gingham for participants at the end.” You can barely catch what he’s saying with the cookie wedged between his teeth as he pulls on his coat, but you tell him to have fun and, like the rest, watch as he leaves the house.

By the time it grows quiet, there are only five cookies left on the tray and you’re relieved Soobin had made more than one batch. It’d be a shame if he couldn’t even taste his own cooking. You carefully throw them all into a container, but pause upon realizing that Beomgyu is the only one who hasn’t come down, so he also hasn’t tried them yet.

He isn’t exactly your favorite resident. And although you aren’t particularly fond of Beomgyu, you also don’t want to spend the rest of your stay here with any bad blood with any of the boys. So you fish out a few pieces from the container and carefully arrange them on a nice looking plate. You even pour a glass of orange juice for him. Acting like a dumb little housewife for a guy you don’t even like a lot sure hurts your fucking pride, but you want to shove your sincerity up Choi Beomgyu’s ass until it forces him to be nice to you.

You’re extra careful when you climb up the stairs, hands full with the snack you prepared. It poses a struggle when you have to knock on the door, so you call out his name instead and hope for a response.

“It’s open— fucking piece of shit. You useless son of a fuck!”

Well, that doesn’t sound very inviting.

But you invite yourself in anyway because after clearing things up with Sunghoon, you feel like you can conquer everyone else with ease. You’re overconfident. That was your first mistake.

The moment you crack open the door, your ears are attacked by aggressive keyboard noises and Beomgyu is hunched over in front of his monitor— three monitors, actually. You’re scared he’s about to destroy the computer with how rough he’s smashing every key, but he leans back not long after with an annoyed grunt and starts clicking things on the screen. “What do you want?” he asks without looking at you. It’s starting to rise, your blood pressure. You hope you last until the end of this exchange.

“Soobin baked cookies. I’m here to bring you some.”

He pulls down his headphones to his neck and the chair swivels to face you. An awfully aggravating move which is only exacerbated when Beomgyu’s eyes land on your offering and he stifles out a scoff. “Why? You trying to act like my wife, or some shit?”

You know what, fuck this, you’re not dealing with his ass.

“I’d rather kill myself than be your stupid fucking wife.” The desire to pour the sweet, sweet glass of orange all over his gaming setup nearly overtakes you, but you’re sensible enough. You settle with pouring it on his head instead. “Enjoy your drink, asshole.”

Maybe that was overkill, but you’re mad and sometimes you do impulsive shit (case in point, chasing down Sunghoon to his workplace). You would’ve smashed the plate on his face too, but Soobin’s cookies are too precious for that so you keep them intact when you stomp out his room, slamming the door shut in the process. It’s a good thing the rest of the guys are out of the house because the visual of you angrily marching into the kitchen and stuffing the rest of the cookies into the tupperware with a tightly knitted frown would definitely rouse some questions, and you can’t guarantee answering those questions nicely and possibly making a few of them cry (again).

The pantry door swings open and shut with a harsh noise when you enter to store Soobin’s baked goods. You place them next to the loaves of packaged bread on the middle shelf before letting out a heavy sigh. Beomgyu has ruined your day of relaxation and the only way to fix it is a good nap.

Unfortunately for you, that won’t be possible anymore. Unless you don’t mind napping in the dark recluse of your home pantry because when you attempt to pull open the door— it won’t budge.

Oh no. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The door is stuck. You’re stuck. You have no one to blame but Choi Beomgyu.

Having an orange juice shower wasn’t part of Beomgyu’s calculations.

In fact, he wasn’t exactly calculating anything. He just spat out the first sentence that popped in his head and it ended up in a citrus-scented disaster. Maybe he should start using his head more the next time he has a conversation with you. That is if you still want to have anything to do with him. Beomgyu may have a dumb mouth, but he isn’t blind or stupid. He knows you don’t like him, and that might be his fault entirely.

Shit, this better not ruin my hair, he thinks as he runs his head under the bathroom sink, rinsing out the sugar from his roots but his shirt still smells of orange juice even after he’s finished drying up, yet he can’t be bothered to get a change of clothes so he just returns to his already ruined game of Counter Strike with a groan.

It’s not that Beomgyu hates you. In fact, he thinks you’re really cool and funny, but he’s emotionally constipated so he masks his chronic rizzlessness by being a massive douche. It doesn’t help that you sound really hot when you tell him to fuck off or swear at his general direction. The problem is, he can’t really tell you that, so he continues being a prick and picking fights with you whenever he can. Aren’t girls supposed to be into that crap? Beomgyu doesn’t watch a lot of romance films, but he’s seen how people thirst over Mr. Darcy. His Twitch chat also goes crazy when he swears on stream, and last time he checked a good chunk of his viewership are women.

He’s sure he was on the right track. Until today— because that look on your face before you stomped out of the room was less hot-scary and more scary-scary. It haunts his mind as he plays another round with Yeonjun and the others, a ghost behind his eyelids. They’re yelling at him to get his shit together through the voice chat and that’s when he knows he needs to step out his room to get a breather.

Somehow, his feet lead him down to the kitchen instead of the covered deck. And his eyes are searching for your pissed off expression instead of the Red Bull his tongue is craving.

Must be in her room, he thinks. Cold air hits his face when he hooks out the energy drink from the fridge. Now that he thinks about it, it’s oddly quiet in the house. Usually, there’d at least be screaming or noise from Jake’s shitty relaxation playlist, but it’s dead silent right now.

Beomgyu prods around the island, looking for the Soobin cookies you mentioned. The only sign he has of their existence are the crumbs on the three trays splayed out in the sink.

Crash!

Okay, what the hell was that?

Thud.

It’s coming from the pantry. The fuck, is this house haunted?

Now, Beomgyu doesn’t get scared of shit. He makes his entire living from not batting an eye at video game jumpscares, so this is nothing.

Thunk.

But if it’s his own house that’s haunted, he’s not gonna let the chance of kicking ghost ass slip through his fingers. The only reasonable thing to do is to kick the pantry door open.

So he kicks the pantry door open and bulldozes in.

“Wait, don’t leave the door—”

Slam!

It shuts behind him, depleting all the light in the room. He’s shocked to see you instead of a transparent old man from the 1800s. “Great,” you huff. “Now we’re both stuck here.” You’re the ghost. You’ve been the ghost this whole time.

Beomgyu turns around and rattles the door knob, but the door doesn’t budge. “It’s useless,” he hears you say from behind. His arm deflates to the side and he slumps, defeated. “Do you have your phone with you?”

“No. It’s in my room.”

“Well damn,” you flatly say. “Guess we gotta wait until one of the boys arrives.”

He turns back to face you, eyes narrowed in both suspicion and curiosity because what the fuck could you have been doing in here alone that made so much noise. “Hey, I know you hate me, but you don’t need to look so disgusted.” He isn’t disgusted. He’s about to lose his fucking mind because what’s the point of having a giant ass mansion when the pantry is so, so goddamned tiny that he can practically feel your body heat seeping into his own skin?

One more step closer and he’d be practically pressed up all over you. It’s a good thing you decide to sink down and tuck yourself as close to the back shelf as possible, pressing your knees to your chest as you look up at him with unmistakable annoyance. “Sit down. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“I don’t hate you,” he obliges your suggestion, mimicking your position against the jammed door.

“I’m not stupid. You’ve been a bitch to me the moment I stepped into this house.”

“Well, I fucking don’t. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Sure.” You wrinkle your nose. “And I’m absolutely elated by the fact that I have to be stuck with you here for the next two, three hours.”

Now, you don’t need to rub it in his face that you can’t stand him. Looks like that bet prize is as good as out of reach, but at this point he doesn’t really care anymore— undoing his fuckups is the more pressing issue at hand. His throat is dry and burning when he attempts to swallow, but nearly chokes on his spit when the particularly malicious death stare you’re giving him falls into his attention. Maybe he should say something. “Do you really think I hate you?”

“Well,” you cross your arms. “I’m at the very least sure you don’t like me.”

How does he fix this? There’s no tutorial or cheat code for this kind of situation. He’s stumped, he’s totally stumped. “Isn’t like— isn’t enemies to lovers supposed to be a popular trope?”

Something tells him he made the wrong move with how your glare suddenly softens and becomes drenched in pity. He doesn’t like that. He prefers it when you look at him like you want to stab a knife into his gut and twist it counterclockwise. “I don’t know which bastard lied to you, but acting like a stuck-up asshole doesn’t fly in real life, buddy.”

Beomgyu lets your words sink in before slowly uttering, “It…it does not?”

“No. No, it does not,” you confirm. A beat of silence. “Beomgyu, do you have a crush on me?”

The thing about small, locked places is that he can’t run away. Beomgyu wants to run away. He can’t do that. So he swears at you instead. “Fuck off.” You have deemed his enemies to love strategy futile, but you’ve backed him in a corner (literally), so he has no idea what to do. Distraction— a distraction would be nice to ward off the rising heat in his cheeks and the scent of fresh orange wafting into his senses that awfully reminds him of your disdain. There’s a stash of kisses chocolates he’s been raiding on the shelves somewhere. Chocolates are always good for stress, and he’s very fucking stressed right now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, following up your curious glances by standing up and digging your nose a little too close into his business as he fishes out a piece of chocolate hidden behind the stack of spices. A gasp rips out from your throat. “You bitch! You’re the one who’s been stealing my kisses!”

Beomgyu winces and nearly chokes on the sweet. “If you put it like that, people are going to get the wrong fucking idea.”

“What people? There’s no one else here,” you sass, arms crossed with a particularly grated expression. “But alright. I’ll let it slide. Give me a kiss, I think my blood pressure is rising.”

“Quit saying it like that,” he grunts, dropping three pieces onto your open palm.

You tear one open, carefully placing the chocolate in your mouth. “Speaking of making out.” No one said anything about making out, you’re driving him absolutely nuts. “This sorta feels like we’re back in high school playing seven minutes in heaven.” You pause, chewing on another piece. “Except I’m pretty sure it’s been way longer than seven minutes. Fuck. When are the others coming back?”

It’s like a flip switched after admitting to not hating you. You’ve stopped glaring at him and instead reserved yourself to looking at him like he’s some sort of sick puppy you’ve decided to take in. Like now— lips slightly pursed, brows slightly knitted, and it makes him want to bang his head against the door because bleeding from a self-inflicted concussion would hurt his pride less than being on the receiving end of your pity. “You’ve never played seven minutes in heaven before?” Your tone is so soft, it kills him.

“Why would I want to play that stupid game?”

“Hey, don’t slander my high school memories! That’s how I got my first kiss.” Again with the goddamned kisses, fuck at this point you’re doing it on purpose. Beomgyu refuses to look at you, grumbling unintelligible complaints under his breath. The chocolate tastes too sweet on his tongue and it’s making him nauseous. “Don’t tell me...you’ve never had your first—”

“What the fuck is up with you and kisses, seriously what the fuck are you trying to—”

He finally snaps, but quickly quells his outburst. It’s all your fault. You’re riling him up on purpose. When he thinks you’d snap at him back like usual, you don’t. Instead you continue looking at him with that unusual softened expression. “It’s alright, Beomgyu. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He wants to kill himself. “Wanna kiss?”

His shoulders slacken. He gives up. There’s no way he can win against the impenetrable force that is you. “No, you can have your stupid chocolate all to yourself,” he huffs, scrunching himself up further on the ground.

“I’m not talking about the chocolate. I’m asking if you wanna make out.”

What the fuck.

What the fuck are you saying right now?

“It’s gonna take a while for us to get out of here and it’s not like we have anything better to do.” You throw another kiss into your mouth and you’re talking so nonchalantly like you just asked him to pass the salt, to open the fridge door— not to engage in something totally non-friendly, non-platonic, toeing the line of propriety. Does Jake know your level of insanity when he suggested you live with them? Is Jake aware that you just casually ask people to exchange spit with you and die? “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m just giving you the opportunity to experience the two things you have yet to experience. Totally up to you, buddy.”

How could you ask to kiss and call him buddy in the same breath? Beomgyu is convinced you’re not normal, but that should’ve been evident with how much your very presence tortures them every single god damned day.

He says something. He’s sure he says something, but it leaves his mouth before he could register them and the consequences of his impulsivity arrive when you’re suddenly a lot closer than he remembers and his brain jumps ship and he’s panicking. He panics when your fist crumples his orange-stained collar. He panics because he’s never kissed anyone before so what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

Shit, he really didn’t think this through. Holy fuck, you’re actually serious, you’re actually about to kiss him.

“Did you say the cookies are in the pantry? I’m gonna get— oh shit, this thing is stuck.”

The door rattles. Alarm bells ring. Beomgyu pushes you off in a panic and a loaf of bread falls to the floor when you bump against the rack. Warm light spills into the tiny storage. He can clearly see the ruffled expression you’re wearing.

“Well. These aren’t cookies.”

He snaps his head up to see Heeseung standing at the foot of the entrance, clearly confused and alarmed by the unusual scene in the pantry. Soobin’s head pops in as well. You’re rubbing the back of your head when you spring up to your feet. “Holy shit, thank god. I thought we’d be stuck there for much longer.”

Huh.

“What happened?” Heeseung trails behind you as you leave.

“Stored the cookies and got trapped in the process. Beomgyu tried helping and failed. Jake needs to fix that fucking door.”

It was so easy for you to leave him behind after the mess you’ve made. Soobin offers to help him up, but Beomgyu’s mood has already soured beyond salvation so he ignores the outstretched arm and shovels himself up with a grunt and quickly catches up to you— you, who’s already sitting on the island and enjoyed your freedom with a box of macarons Heeseung brought. You, who’s nonchalantly offering him the powder pink dessert that probably looks like his very own reflection.

“Want some?” you ask, mouth full. He stares at the crumbs near your lips. It pisses him off. “They’re really good.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You furrow your brows. “Are you upset because we didn’t get to—”

“I said don’t talk to me.”

He’s not upset. He’s not. He is. He’s not. Maybe he is but that’s not the fucking point here. The point is you’re evil and the absolute worst and how can you dangle a gold chain in front of him only to snatch it back away? Actually, it’s not entirely your fault. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow at Heeseung who’s a second away from booking it because he doesn’t want to get dragged in your crossfire. Too late. He’s already involved. He fucked up the moment he opened that god forsaken door. This has simultaneously been the best and worst day of his life because even though you've told him acting like a dick doesn't work— at least he knows you don't mind kissing him

If only Heeseung hadn't opened the fucking door. Beomgyu’s gonna fuck him up further in League tonight.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#enhypen x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #enha x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #lee heeseung x reader #park jongseong x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #enha scenarios #txt scenarios #choi beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu scenarios

455 notes · View notes

nwndrlndn · 10 months

Text

modern anakin hcs

pairing : modern!anakin skywalker x gn!reader | wc : 1.4k | 18+MINORS DNI

a/n : this is just how i see a modern anakin. its kind of an add-on to boyfriend.

general hcs ( adaptational awareness )

anakin is some kind of scandinavian from shmi's side of the family and thats all he really cares about. his stance on his father and his full ancestry is "if he didn't want me then, i don't want him now" ( lies, we'll talk about the daddy issues later )

so shmi was probably born in a country thats similar to sweden or denmark and anakin probably spent his early years there. but by like 4 or 5 they moved from shmi’s home country to modern tatooine

so like picture little blond haired, blue-eyed anakin, right? imagine he was homeschooled for like the majority of his life and he walks into school with a swedish accent and basic english skills

eventually, shmi saves up enough money and gets a really good opportunity to send anakin to a really good school in coruscant

shmi taught him how to cook, clean, some housekeeping skills

and he has even less friends, but he got along with his peer mentor, obi-wan, who was like on the verge of graduating and saw anakin as a surrogate brother

anakin definitely isnt emo until he’s in college, before college, i imagine him dressing like scott barringer, loose clothes, light colors, and he keeps his hair blond

this era of anakin defintely liked car shops and had a part time at a niche interests store ( think like, a bait shop ) to help his mom

he met padme in his junior year of high school, she was one of those alumni who were asked to come back to talk about the college experience to high schoolers

and anakin ( having zero filter ) asked for her number after the talk and she shot him down but still gave him her number.

then like, going into his college orientation, he was pissed off because his mom had remarried while he was away. but he was coming to terms with it and liking his step brother and his fiance.

i picture he shows up kind of fucked up looking. like his hair is growing out and the texture is off, his clothes are dark on the inside, light on the outside, and he’s listening to music on his headphones the whole time

and you see him sitting by himself, a little off from the engineering majors and fiddling with something in his hands and you walk over to him, in spite of your major and your nerves and sit next to him

instantly the headphones are off because his cool, tough guy front is still just a front, he was HOPING someone would talk to him

and you guys hit it off, chatting away about everything and anything

even when you part ways and the orientation ends, he’s texting you randomly and oh my god, he thinks too fast for his thumbs

“hve you seen ovrdrive?” “wtff is that thing your ordered at ciplt? im picking up food fr obi and he hates when i bring spicey stuff” “hellp”

he moves in with doctoral candidate obi-wan for college and takes up a part time at a mechanic’s shop and another as an overnight security guard ( he just sleeps and works on assignments there )

he got his mom threepio, a golden retriever, but usually is playing with padmé’s border collie, artoo ( credit to this amazing fan art )

he asked out padme after he fixed her computer ( for funsies ) and didnt shut up about her the entire time they dated

anakin is clingy in relationships, literally would hold onto padmé’s bags while out in public so she wouldnt wander too far from him

and he just really liked the environment of padmé’s apartment, being around you, padmé, and sabé was just a really big comfort for him

his descent into becoming a metalhead mostly happened because one of his bosses suggested it to him

and slowly he started to enjoy it more and more

and his wardrobe got darker, developed an energy drink addiction, and he started letting you and padmé give him messy eyeliner

and it culminated when he asked you to help him box dye his hair and now theres a stain in his bathroom of a streak of black hair dye across the ceiling

the reason why anakin and padmé broke up was a healthy end because ani def got a little jealous and toxic and padmé had to sit him down and tell him it was for the best

and he resented her for a while, wouldn’t talk to her while at her apartment for a good month

but then he watched her burn food and he felt bad and ended up cooking something for her and they never spoke about it again

and he definitely liked you when you first met, even when he was dating padmé ( and the few flings he had after her )

he just made himself bury his feelings for a while by treating you like a best friend or little sister

hanging out with you when padmé took everyone on a lake house trip and was busy talking to others

his actual confession comes in the form of him making a really crappy bracelet at his work bench

yes, he literally set up a robotics station in his bedroom. he will literally invite you over and sound so excited to see you

only to focus and work for 8 hours with only two rockstars and his thrash metal playlist as sustenance

you can try to give him a snack and he’ll ( unintentionally ) glare at you until he realizes he’s been ignoring you for so long and he just picks you up and kisses you

now youve got anakin licking at your face and laying on top of you. he’s not coming up for air until he’s made up for every minute he ignored you accidentally

his favorite kind of date would either be a movie date or to go out for a drive then stargaze

he will put you in his clothes, whether you like it or not. and he smells a bit like like oil and sweat mixed with mint

he started getting tattoos because he saw it as a form of independence

he has one industrial piercing, and three others on each of his earlobes. the tongue piercing was for fun

he likes alternative girls more, but if you’re not alternative he won’t push you ( unless you like that )

will have a titty attack if you call him emo and not a metalhead ( theres a difference )

18 + hc

he’s so fucking WEIRD

so he probably gets off every other day because of his mind ( and because his hands wander so much that he gets himself worked up )

to get into the idea i mentioned in boyfriend

he got your name near his navel and once he realized he liked you, he would try to aim his releases over your name

and he’s not a bad shot

his hands wander naturally because he just likes to feel your skin. like its not even his intent to get sexual, he’s absently rubbing your back and like 5 minutes later he’s just massaging your ass and tits if you lay on him

he’s actually really big on doggy, he just really likes to look at your back

so he also likes bending you over tables, counters, his workbench, his bed, and security desk at work

he has aquaphilia. will feel you up in pools and in large bodies of water

he really likes biting and marking

during sex, he likes to focus on your neck and back

but in general he would be the kind of guy to give you a forehead hickey

and will rub off any makeup you put on to cover it

prefers to praise and worship you, and if you try the same, he’ll get awkward and embarrassed but lap it up anyways

if you degrade him and objectify him, he will fuck you within an inch of your life

he also has his own playlists that he plays when you guys are fucking

he broke the door to his room so it’s not the best place to have sex, unless youre ok with the possibility of someone walking in

obi wan accidentally walked in on you both once and had to leave the apartment for a week

he has tried to fuck you in his car but you bumped your head and he drove you straight home to ice it, refuses to even get road head because of it

485 notes · View notes

tumblerlove · 2 months

Text

Boydad!Simon is something I feel like would be really healing for him to break the generational trauma

When you first told him you were pregnant after being married for a while. He was shocked. You both wanted children and talked about it before... but now it's real, and he's gonna be a father

His first thought that came in his mind was excitement and joy...but then he thought too "What if I fuck this up" but he didn't want you to think that he wasn't excited because he was happy that he would have a child with you.... but he was worried... so he hid his concern for now

He went to all of your appointments with you, he took time off work anytime you had to go so he wouldnt miss them. Simon wanted to see the baby on the ultrasound and see for himself that the baby and you are ok

Simon was there with you throughout the entire delivery holding your hand, encouraging you and cutting the baby boys cord. A boy. Simon had a son... throughout your pregnancy, Simon still didn't mention his fear that he would fail as a father. And now that he has a son, he's even more scared that he'll just be like his dad

As you're recovering the following days from the birth, Simon was super helpful he'd get up during the night and take care of the baby so you could sleep and heal. He was doing everything he could to help you and the baby

He would just stare at his son at nights and look at him and hope that he'll be better then his dad...he needs to talk to you he knows that...but how is he gonna tell you his fears without saying the wrong thing and scaring you into thinking hell be his father and become a failure not just for his son and well a failure for you too

Simon did come to you a few weeks after the birth. He had just laid the baby down while you got ready for bed. "Honey, can you come here?" he calls you softly to the bedroom. "Yeah, what is it, Si?" You ask with concern seeing his face etched in worry

"Im afraid...fuck...I'm afraid that I won't be a good enough father for our son." he spits the words out fast like they burned him. "Oh, Simon... you could have talked to me about this." You crawl up the bed and into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Trying to comfort him the best way you know how

"I haven't wanted to tell you and admit it out loud... and make you think that I couldn't be a good Dad." he looks away from you, ashamed for saying it. "I know that you can be a dad, Simon. I watched you throughout my entire pregnancy already being a dad... being there for our son and for me. " You press your forehead to his. "These past few weeks, all you've done is be a good father...a great father Simon." You say to him softly

"I don't want him to think of me in the future like I think of my father...I don't want that." his face is breaking your heart. He looks so concerned and upset about it. "He won't ever think of you like that because you're not like that at all... if you can't tell already that little boy loves you so much he looks at you and he just sees love" you tell him as you comb your fingers through his hair

"I look at him, and I see that too...I see you and see love too," Simon says softly, his worry slowly going away from talking to you. "You're the best, Dad Simon. He's lucky to have you, and im lucky to have you as my husband. " You say into his chest as he starts falling asleep from calming down after talking, and you easing his worries

*15 years later*

"Dad, can you come outside and help me with this!!" You and Simon hear your oldest son from the backyard while you watch TV together. "I'll be right out!!" He calls back out to him. "Have fun," you say as he walks to the backyard

Simon had found this perfect home in the countryside after you guys had your second son. He wanted to give the boys lots to room to grow and run around and be happy like he didn't get to have. After your third son, Simon was very glad he had found this home. All three boys were just getting taller and bigger, just like their father. The boys also looked just like Simon too but with your eye color

"What do you need help with, Son?" Simon asks his son. "I can't get the ball into the net from this side...I just keeps missing it," he says, frustrated. "Alright, well, I can help with that," Simon says with a smile, earning him a smile from his son too

Anytime any of his boys smiled at him, his heart could've burst. Simon watched him first kick the ball to see how to help him. He went through the moves with him afterward to show just how to do it. Simon couldn't remember ever doing such a thing with his dad... being patient with him and teaching him. But Simon was different from his father. He was patient, caring, attentive, and loved all the boys deeply...and of course you too. The one who proved time and time again that he could do this

"You can do this son give it a go," Simon encourages him. He goes to try again, and sure enough, he made it with Simon's help. "YES FINALLY," your son screams out so loud that you even walk outside to see what happened

"What on earth happened!?" You call out as you see Simon and your son embracing. "He finally got it, didn't you hear?" Simon laughs while you shake your head in laughter. "Boys, put your shoes on. Let's go out back!" You call upstairs to your other two sons who were upstairs

They run right past you, heading straight towards Simon and your oldest. Not slowing down and pile driving them onto the grass. "Christ," you hear Simon say as he takes the weight of all three huge boys. "You guys are gonna squish your father to death one day," you say as you walk up to all of them. Still all on top of each other and poor Simon at the bottom

But it wasn't poor Simon...because he couldn't be happier right now. He couldn't have been any luckier in life. Finding you and your strength that helped him become who he is now. He couldn't be happier with his three boys on top of him, and with you laughing at them

So I did finally write boydad!simon and let me know what yall think...because I do love this 🥹

#simon ghost riley #dad!simon ghost riley #dad!simon riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #ghost simon riley fluff #cod simon ghost riley

109 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 5 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 2

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Eventually Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

In jest, I quietly blamed Dr. Miller for wanting to fall asleep in the second class I was taking at the University the following evening. Dr. Stevenson did not have the immediate, gripping hold on me the way Dr. Miller did. Not only was I exhausted by the time the five o'clock class rolled around, but I was constantly comparing this stodgy, mundane individual to all of the lively traits his coworker possessed. It was unfair really.

I had made it, however. I managed to get through to seven o'clock without rudely letting my head fall flat on the desk in the stuffy, thermogenic confinement in the University's basement.

“Get me out of here,” I whispered to myself as I crossed into the hallway. My eyes sought out the stairwell at the far end of the corridor, though when the elevator doors swung open as I passed by, I couldn't resist the free ride.

A small group of students piled out, each on their own individual device and not seeming to care if they were in each other’s company or not. I felt for my own phone in my jacket as I entered and turned to hit the “1” button that glowed a pale yellow.

“Hold on..” A hand snuck its way in through the large, steel doors that threatened to close, and I stepped farther to the side to allow the stranger to enter. Only it wasn't a stranger - not really.

“Oh..” The one syllable left my mouth when I recognized it was Dr. Miller who was now standing beside me as the doors closed. The word was entirely misplaced and I knew I wouldn't have said that if any other human being had accompanied me on the elevator right then. Except maybe John Stamos.

“(Y/N), right?” His voice was made for phone sex.

The fact that I had that thought even remotely in the most hidden depths of my brain made me blush. I even contemplated what was wrong with me.

“Right.” I gave a small, closed-mouth smile and attempted to mind my own business.

“Who's class did you just come from?”

“Umm..” I drew a blank. His presence, and my instant attraction to him, took me completely off-guard. “Uhhh..” When my eyes lifted to hit his, I could tell there was amusement that lingered behind the surface. “Dr. Stevenson.”

“Mmm..” It was an obvious mutter of disapproval, though he didn't dare elaborate as he subtly rolled his eyes along with the brief, fleeting response.

“My thoughts exactly.” I gave a laugh and looked up at him again, shoving my hands into the pockets of my black, L.L. Bean winter coat. I hoped by agreeing to his subtle denunciation I didn't come across as the prissy, know-it-all type that undermined authority figures.

When the little bell chimed, indicating we had reached the first level, I wanted to make some excuse to stay there. There was nothing logical. Once the doors opened I would have to get out. Still, I wanted so badly to carry on a conversation with Dr. Miller. At the same time there wasn't one worthwhile conversation starter I could think of.

I opened my mouth to speak again but then quickly went with the generic, “I'll see you tomorrow in class.”

Dr. Miller gave a nod and I crept out of the elevator with a deliberate reluctance that I couldn't prevent. A look over my shoulder showed the elevator doors closing again and Dr. Miller’s figure was slowly stripped from my view like an actor on a stage at the final curtain.

I could breathe again. For a second. It suddenly dawned on me that I had never revealed to him my name.

(Y/N), right? I relived the simple, half-a-second question he had asked over and over again in my mind until it transformed from a quintessential expression to a resounding shout.

He has a class list, I reminded myself. With at least forty-something students, I added.

There was no way he could have known who I was without a little investigation. The thought flattered me. Surely, others might've been a bit uneasy over the revelation but not me. Not right then.

There was an unwilling pull at the corner of my mouth that I tried to fight off, though soon a wider grin made home on my face. I still stood there staring at the elevator for a moment and realized the down arrow was glowing.

Down. I stood there for a moment. Dr. Archibald had gone back down where he had just come from. Had he simply taken the elevator ride to…

I couldn't even finish the thought with any sort of realistic element to it.

Cocky, aren't we? I knew there wasn't a chance he had taken the elevator up one level and back down simply because I was on it. He most likely forgot something and went back down.

Big metal butterflies had suddenly made home in my stomach. I was so modest that I yielded any possibility that this could be true. Through my own eyes I was so incredibly customary that someone couldn't possibly want to go out their way to find out more about me.

I wouldn't mind him stalking me. The fact that this was my first naturally-occurring thought had to say something. The palpitations knocked at my chest cavity again and I swallowed hard as the down arrow suddenly stopped glowing.

Of course this was the thing, in all of my exhausted glory, that kept me awake again that night.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @grogusmum @amyispxnk

115 notes · View notes

snickerdoodlles · 29 days

Text

emberfaye replied to your post "choose violence ask game except its just me complaining about fic tropes..."

☕☕☕☕

am going to do my absolute BEST not to ramble too much here, but okay so!! 4 Chay things that will have me back-flipping out of a fic at the speed of light:

babyfication of Chay

i just. ugh. ugh. he is not a baby. he's a 17-18yo guy who half-raised himself due to some shit circumstances and took care of himself entirely by himself for minimum several months. the only difference between him and an adult is that he's not making his own income. Porsche and Arthee doing their best to give Chay as much of a childhood as they can afford him still doesn't change the fact that Chay grew up young and fast just like the rest of this cast. if he acts uwu innocent baby i'm gone. if the author calls him an uwu baby in their notes i'm gone. ugh.

being weird about Chay's or Barcode's age, specifically in regards to sex

as above, i'm pretty shirty about people babying him in general, but fandom is plain weird about Chay having sex. esp him and Kim having sex. 1. their age gap is not that big, and their circumstances have left them on pretty equal footing re the growing up too fast thing. 2. please assess why you think 18 fixes whatever your concerns are with 17yos having sex. 3. teens have sex. dunno what tf was happening with the rest of you but i knew kids even young as junior high who were already fucking. sure, i thought they were fucking idiots for it, but my concerns about people having sex young are rooted in the fact that sex is an inherently very vulnerable act and that's a lot to put yourself thru emotionally during the age range when everything's a wild emotional cocktail. but like. teens still do it. teens are gonna experiment with adult things and sometimes that means experimenting with sex. i personally might not think it's a good idea, but something not being a good idea doesn't inherently make it a bad one either. please stop being weird about it thanks.

calling Chay "bambi"

i just really don't like it. part of it's related to the babyfication thing, but mostly it's just one of those silly things my brain went nOPE on and oh well. back click. 😂

mischaracterizing Chay's anger

so like. this one is tricky because a lot of it comes down to personal interpretation of canon, but also like. a lot of my mischaracterization gripes involves people writing tropes or drama anger instead of Chay's anger, so. yeah. 😂 a lot of people default to writing explosive anger because it's easier to write, but in canon Chay is just. so completely not explosive. and it's not because he's bottling up anger (which!! even if he was, suddenly exploding due to pressure isn't a good thing, gah).

a lot of Chay's personality stems from Needing To Be Okay. a lot of Chay's personal motivations are trying to help Porsche with his burdens and when Porsche won't let him take on extra responsibilities, Chay does what he can to not add to Porsche's plate. and part of not being a burden is quietly dealing with his anger and resentments on his own time. (another factor playing into that is Porsche and Chay really only have each other-- Porsche deals with his anger very quietly too, and it's very characteristic of how they really don't want to hurt each other because they don't have many other people they care about, so they remove themselves from tense/bad situations best they can to reflect on their anger and return to talk about it after they've calmed down.)

Chay is fierce in his anger, but he withdraws when he's pissed and he always tries to talk it out with the intention of achieving clarity. and if i don't feel like a story's going to handle Chay's resentment/anger in a way that feels true to how it was shown in canon (there's a few litmus tests but mostly i'm going by vibes), i just click out because i already know any plot conflict won't feel fully or properly resolved to me in the end :/

[ send a ☕, get a bitchy* fic opinion ]

*personal opinion, I'm not going to be mean

#laughing at myself a bit because i definitely overthought this one #but it was fun lol #<33 #kinnporsche #tea asks #<- btws friends please lmk if i need to change that tag into something more specific/easier to block???

52 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

Note

Malleus's enchantment on Lilia's gag glasses definitely wouldn't work on his own grandmother, would it? XD

Maleficia "There you are, Lilia. I was only just conversing with your human child on your whereabouts. It has been long since I have last seen you, my most trusted— What... are you wearing?"

[Referencing this fic!]

If Malleus could easily wave off Vil’s magic, then Maleficia can do the same for Malleus’s magic 😂

There's a part in this interaction where Maleficia switches from using "I" to "we"--that's the English royal "we" (pluralis majestatis). Historically, it's been used to invoke the divine right of rulers to speak for their state. I wanted to use it for a brief line to emphasize her serious tone.

***Note: foreshadowing for book 7 (so there are spoilers!!)***

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"So good to see you, your majesty." Lilia bowed to the woman in regal black robes. His tone was lighthearted, even as he addressed the queen of his country. "You've spoken with Silver? I do hope he was on his best behavior."

"As always." Maleficia allowed herself a smile. To most, it would make their skin crawl with discomfort. To Lilia, it was the grace of a close companion. "It has been long since I have last seen you, my most trusted—"

She slightly startled when he lifted his head. Her mouth twitching, pupils dilating, as the rest of her face remained unchanged. "What... are you wearing?"

"Oh? You're curious about these?" Lilia fiddled with his frames. He was careful to not entirely remove them from his face, lest he cast off his magical disguise. The faux hairs that made up a pair of bushy eyebrows and a mustache tickled his skin, the big rubber nose flopping about.

"Surely it's not a human fashion statement," Maleficia said with the lift of an arched brow, "though you have always been one to experiment with your appearance. Why, I still remember how you wore your hair back in the day. Long, with stripes as red as blood."

"That was quite a while ago." It was the look most iconic to his oldest friends—and his oldest enemies. Memories that tasted of both sugar and salt churned in his mind. "No, this isn't a new fashion trend, just a little something Malleus whipped up for me so that I could attend Family Day with everyone."

"Malleus did? I knew the magic felt familiar," Maleficia chuckled. Tendrils of the enchantment bounced harmlessly off her, illusive wisps flickering between her fingers. "My grandson still has much to learn in the way of spellcasting before he can pull one over my eyes. He chose such a humorous item to enchant as well."

"The choice was mine. We share the blame for the spell's design. Ah, but isn't it odd? Despite these odd circumstances, we still find ourselves making many happy memories."

"How kind of Malleus to grant you a blessing that brings such good fortune. You won't have to sit out on the festivities this year."

"He has a big heart, that boy. He didn't wish for me to be by my lonesome—and I'm eternally grateful for it. Thanks to Malleus, I can be with Silver on this momentous occasion.

"Someday soon, the day will come where I can no longer be by his side." Lilia clasped both hands over his heart. The joy in his voice was undeniably touched with sorrow. "This time we have together now, as father and son... it's something I'll always treasure."

Maleficia frowned. "Lilia, you don't mean to say..."

"You know what I speak of, yes? The time that comes for us all eventually."

She solemnly nodded. "I did not think it would be so soon. Before long, the sun will set on our time, and it will rise again at the dawn of a new era, one led by the next generation. Our legacies, paving the future of Briar Valley.

“Malleus will succeed me. Your child will age, perhaps have children of his own. Baul's grandchildren too."

Lilia laughed--soft and bittersweet. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Extremely."

"Fufu, you must be so excited to see how Malleus has grown then."

"I am, however..." Maleficia's brows suddenly furrowed. "I must confess, I did not visit today only to see my grandson. I also wished to personally inquire about your health while I had the opportunity.”

The question threw Lilia off his tempo. He flinched, then hurried to find his footing again. His cheer, a mask.

"Come now, I know I may be getting up there in age, but I'm not quite senile yet—nor am I chomping at the bit for retirement. I'm as spry as I ever was." He hopped a few steps ahead, back to her. “You see? I’m…”

"Lilia," Maleficia said patiently, her words warning. "You are deliberately avoiding my question. As our vassal, we command you to answer us. How does your magic fare?”

To this, Lilia hesitated, biting his lower lip. "I don’t want to lie to you, but… I also don’t want to tell the whole truth. It is not within a warrior’s spirit to show their weaknesses, not even to friends and family.”

“You needn’t pretend with me.”

“I know. I know, and that is exactly why I can’t bring myself to face you. Not in the state I’m in.” The wind extended a cool hand to caress Lilia’s cheek. He looked into the horizon, at the outline of Night Raven’s main building reaching up high to pierce the clouds. “The last thing I wish for in this world is to be the cause of sadness for my loved ones.”

“Do they know?”

Lilia shook his head. “Not yet. I plan to when we third years meet to discuss internships. The longer I stay, the harder it will be to let go. I must cut the cord then and there. Until then…”

He turned to the side, his profile outlined by the rays of the sun. Hope seeping through the darkness that had eclipsed his face. “I’ll enjoy the life I have left here to its fullest. I ask that you recognize this as my final wish, your ma… no, Maleficia.”

“Lilia…”

“Please.”

"... By the Seven,” the queen sighed, “I shall never become accustomed to those silly spectacles on you. To wear such a dress while making a request to a higher authority… that is something only you would dare to do, Lilia.”

She folded her arms, her long sleeves falling into place with the motion. “You have loyally served your country as both a skilled general and as a wise advisor. You are a dear friend, an irreplaceable individual, yet it is also you who would be so audacious as to deny me the truth I seek.

“… So be it. By the powers vested in me as Queen of Briar Valley, it shall be done.” Maleficia lifted a hand, as if imbibing her decree with power. “You secret will be safe with me.”

He hurriedly glanced away, blinking back tears. Happiness? Sadness? He didn’t know from where they came.

“Thank you.” Lilia choked on his words. He tried again. “Thank you for understanding.”

Her reply came as dry teasing.

“No tears. If they flow, you’ll have to remove those spectacles to mop up, and your disguise will be dispelled.” Maleficia’s eyes crinkled with quiet laughter.

“Today is a celebration of family. Let us put aside our woes for the future and unusual eyewear, and relish in the present with our cherished children. That is a direct order from me to you, Lilia. I won’t have my subject’s smile wavering in my presence.”

He chortled. The small sound evolved, shaping itself into an awkward laugh. Fully formed, but still shaky at its edges.

Lilia faced the queen, dropping to a kneel. His head lowered, he played out the role of a faithful knight reporting to his sovereign.

“Yes, your majesty! As you command.”

#reminder that this whole convo is going down while Lilia is still wearing those dumb gag glasses #twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #NRC Family Day #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #Maleficia Draconia #spoilers

140 notes · View notes

icy-bluez · 3 months

Text

Strongest You've Ever Been (Part 2)

Warnings: Female lead, pet names, lots of fluff, bit of angst, mentions of blood and gore.

Characters: Zayne

Synopsis: You go to war, whilst pregnant.

A/N: Domestic moments with Zayne are killing me. I don't know if I should be writing a version for Xavier and Rafayel too. Btw, I need to know if I should include the other boys in the these fics or not.

| Part 1 |

The morning sickness was back. Well, it wasn't really morning sickness because you were nauseous almost all of the time and struggled to eat much. Zayne held your hair back as you threw up in the bathroom, rubbing circles on your back and soothing you before bringing you back to bed.

He had gotten incredibly protective over you all of a sudden, not like he wasn't before. You currently had a pillow supporting your back, his arms wrapped around your legs and his head on your lap. He refused to let go.

You looked over his shirtless back as you ran your fingers through his hair. He seemed to ease as time passed by.

"Zayne, are you alright?"

"I should be the one asking you that question..." He looks up from your lap, vulnerability evident in his features. He sighs. You smile at him and keep stroking his soft hair.

"Is something bothering you?"

He finally relents. "I'm...quite anxious..." he starts. You encourage him to go on.

"I'm so elated about the fact that I'm going to be a father but thinking about you throwing yourself in the face of danger has me worried for the safety of both of you." He softly touches your stomach.

"I'm going to make sure I'm alright Zayne, for you, for me and the growing life in me." you pause with a sad smile. "And my squad is almost as protective as you. When we tell them of my pregnancy, I'm pretty sure they're going to watch over me like hawks."

"Still does not reassure me." He mumbles.

"Oh Zayne..." You kiss his hair.

----------------------------------------------------------

The time to get back to the frontlines had arrived. Zayne had successfully gotten hold of the permission to temporarily serve at the military facility in the current warzone. The both of you arrive at the barracks together, Zayne held your hand the entire way. The Z01 squad immediately welcomed you back, which was running at you so fast they almost toppled over each other, you included. But Zayne came in for the clutch, immediately whisking you away in his arms as Tyler and Eugene fell on top of each other.

"Hey! Mr. Husband! That is cheating!" Tyler complains.

"Yeah, why'd you just whisk her away?" says Eugene.

Zayne just sighs like an exasperated father, arm still around your waist.

You laugh. "We have something to announce."

"That Mr. Zayne's serving as a military doctor temporarily? We all knew that would happen." Jennie whispers.

"I can hear you, you know?" You say pointedly.

The squad quietens down.

"Okay, I'm pregnant. I will continue to serve my position as General, I have run it over with Captain Jenna and the other HQ officials. My Evol will still be used in order to protect you, be rest assured about it. There will be slight changes in the scheduling for troops directly under me--"

"Wait wait wait slow down!" another squad member exclaims.

"Yes? Any questions Ms. Davidson? You stop.

"You've just going to speed run over the fact that you're pregnant and expect us to go 'oh yeah makes sense'?!" Jennie throws her hands up.

You look around, confused. Zayne just stood slightly enamored by the authority in your voice.

"I don't understand..." you start.

"Well! We're going into war, you're pregnant, you're also the General, you have a heart disease and I'm pretty sure the entirety of the squad is concerned. But. WHO CARES WE NEED TO CELEBRATE." Eugene proposes loudly.

"You deal with a very energetic bunch." Zayne says, a small smile on his face.

"I know...but we have to get started on the plans and drafts--" you start saying but Zayne just moves away and pushes you towards them.

"Have fun."

"What no! Don't go! You're coming with me!" You grab his hand then look expectantly at your squad. Never having seen you so vulnerable before, they just cheer and half-carry, half-drag the both of you to the mess hall.

----------------------------------------------------------

The morning after, a stillness had settled in the military settlement. You hadn't seen Zayne since the morning as he had gotten busy with tending to the wounded. The Metaflux ratings had spiked. Squadrons went into the containment zone under your lead and you waited until the worm hole appeared again. This time, you were more prepared but also scared. You ordered your soldiers into formation and almost in queue, the Wanderers appear. You could see many of the hunters stood closer to you, poised and ready. With a surge of gratefulness in your heart. You charged into battle.

You took down enemies with a grace that had your squad feeling proud of having you as their Captain. The Wanderers did not mindlessly attack this time, they stood in a formation, led by orders. You didn't like the behavior. Aiming at another wanderer, you shot before it impaled a soldier. You were scared about overexerting yourself so you stood at a distance, using ranged weapons only.

Before a wave of nausea hit you and you dropped to your knees on the ground. Tyler shouts your name from the side whilst fighting a wanderer.

"Captain! Are you aright?"

You take a deep breath, look up and shoot at your target, still on your knees. You shout back at him.

"I'm your General on the battlefield."

You hear Tyler grunt but still spare a look to smile at you. You sign 'don't get distracted' at him and once again do your graceful dance.

You squat down behind a destroyed house, gun to your chest and listening for the threat. A wanderer roams slowly looking for you. Eugene, Tyler and a senior member of the squad named Amir are all close.

"Target at 2'o clock. Get ready." you whisper.

"Roger."

"General, are you sure you're going to be okay?" Amir asks.

"I can fight Mr. Zhafran. Be rest assured. If I do drop, I'm counting on the lot of you."

"You're scaring me Gen.." Tyler says, looking like he was about to cry. You sigh.

"You can hug me later, just focus on the target at hand right now."

"...Roger." Tyler says, his voice breaking as he sniffs.

----------------------------------------------------------

Zayne can feel anxiety creeping up on him. While his face betrays no emotion, his steady hands show no sign of shaking, his mind wanders.

'What if you come back hurt?'

'What if you're too tired to come back?'

'What if--'

So many 'what ifs' eat at him. Unable to take it anymore, he walks out of the infirmary and looks into the containment zone. He can see silhouettes of people, bright flashes of Evol and can hear lots of screaming. The ground is bloodstained, some mutilated bodies lie close. The stench of sweat, blood and rotten flesh wafts in the air. He immediately regrets coming outside as his fears become more deep-rooted. The sight was nothing he wasn't used to but thinking about you in this same situation...

He is brought out of his spiraling thoughts by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Its Dr. William.

"Yes, what is it Dr. William?"

"Just called to check up on you. Are you busy?"

"Not currently and I'm fine. Is there anything important you wish to talk about?" he asks.

"Let me ramble, nothing important. You know, you could have at least thanked me for helping you get that permit. You just rushed out of the hospital like you were being chased."

"Thank you." Zayne says, deadpan. There's silence on the other side.

"I can almost see you rubbing your nose bridge in anxiety in my mind's eye." William says, his voice gentler now. Zayne sighs.

"Your wife is one of the strongest women I know. Going into war while pregnant. She's going to get one of those fancy military awards for sure when she comes back. Have you seen her fight?" William says with an excitement in his voice.

Zayne smiles to himself. "I have yes. I was frankly impressed by her skills."

"Yeah you see? Everything is going to be just fine." William reassures, ever the cheerful guy.

"I'll have to take your word for it."

An announcement goes off.

"The squad on the Eastern battlefield has been wiped out. All military trained medical personnel are requested to come to the safe camp in the containment zone immediately. There has been a flux of wounded and casualties in the eastern squad. I repeat--"

Zayne feels his heart drop.

"Oh no, I'll call you later. Go!" William hangs up.

Zayne almost drops his phone while bolting. Rushing to meet the other doctors, Zayne follows them into the containment zone. When he reaches the eastern battlefield, he immediately gives out orders to start with their healing. He can see the immense massacre and subconsciously looks for your face. It wasn't long before he saw your face, his only reprieve was you weren't wounded.

"Zayne!' you say, while fending off a wanderer. You shoot it between the eyes, pull out a dagger from inside your boot and chop another's neck off. A third arrives, you drop to the ground and use your feet to kick up into the wanderer's face. You then use your Evol to jump high into the air and drop kick the wanderer, your Evol enhanced strength effectively buries the wanderer neck deep into the ground. Zayne watches, awestruck before hurriedly resuming his duty. Troops appear around the doctors, protecting them as they help wounded hunters. Zayne reassures himself that you're going to be alright and continues with diligence.

"Standby team, get into formation and come to set co-ordinates immediately." You order.

"Get the stretcher ready. We need the defibrillator, carry patient into the camp immediately. Make sure to sterilize the surroundings." Zayne instructs.

Together the both of you help bring a moment of peace to the battlefield. Its almost the end for this day.

----------------------------------------------------------

There's a quietness that you cannot bear after the immense amount of screaming. Nobody talks. A lone wanderer appears from the very edge of the battlefield. Everybody gets ready. You are starting to feel extremely exhausted and can barely keep your eyes open. Losing balance, you steady yourself on a nearby hunter.

"General..." they say, holding you steady.

"This is the last one remaining?" you ask, feeling sick to your bones.

"Yes ma'am. You should sit down for a while, we will be able to take care of it."

You put your hand on your stomach. No matter how much you want to step onto the battlefield with your soldiers, you did not want to make Zayne more worried about you than he already was.

"Okay."

----------------------------------------------------------

You had collapsed. Zayne immediately came into the infirmary after his latest patient was stable. He would only be able to stay for 15 minutes max but he wanted to utilize whatever little time he had with you. Sitting down on a chair beside the bed, he grasps your hand in his.

"Are you going to do this to yourself for the next month or so?" he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips and closing his eyes. You stir.

"Mm...Zayne..." you say in your sleep. He clutches your hand tighter.

"I'm right here." he whispers, not knowing if you were awake or simply calling his name out in your sleep. You did that a lot and he found it incredibly endearing.

"Zayne.." you say again and open your eyes, finding yourself eye to eye with a very blurry image of him. "Why are you still awake...go to sleep..."

Zayne smiles sadly, listening to your half-asleep rambling.

"Its not time to sleep yet, love. Though for you it is. I recall you saying you would not over-exert yourself..."

"I tried..." you say, weakly pulling his arm, wanting him to get into bed with you.

"I still have some work to do Y/N..." he scolds, yet gets under the sheet, throwing one hand under your head and the another over your waist. His presence like a warm blanket, making you feel safe and loved. You feel his fingers stroke your hair and detangle the knots in them. You bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay now.."

"Be honest y/n." he scolds gently.

"Mm...nauseous and tired. My boobs hurt but they look bigger teehee." You look into his eyes. The both of you look dead tired.

"That is normal during pregnancy. Please tell me if there's something out of the ordinary. If there's blood--"

"Stop, I'm scared enough already."

Zayne almost instantly shuts up. You look up slightly guilty but he just kisses your forehead.

"My apologies."

"You don't have to apologize you big oaf."

"Oaf? Me?" he looks amused.

"Big Snowman?"

"How about Dr. Zayne? Doesn't that fit?"

"Big Snowman." you declare. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs.

"You were amazing today." he muses.

"Oh yeah, you saw me."

"If you fight like that everyday, I cannot help but be concerned."

"The eastern squad was wiped out Zayne...I...got angry..." sadness clouds your voice. "We're going to hold a memorial for the deceased soldiers tomorrow. There were some we couldn't even get the bodies of." you pause, continuing in a whisper, "I don't know how I'm going to face their families..."

"Y/N..." You fall into silence.

"There were times when patients had died by my hands when I had spent and immense about of time, put an incredible amount of effort into saving them. If they still didn't make it, I would feel devastated and you would come comfort me." he says.

"But this is the thing, you tried your very best and that is what matters. You cannot spread yourself too thin, cannot protect everybody. That is reality, maybe with time the grief will lessen."

"Does grief really go away with time?" you ask, letting yourself be taken care of, be scolded, be comforted. You were human after all, you couldn't be strong all the time and you had an amazing person to be vulnerable with. So why not?

"No, but people can simply get used to being in sorrow."

Somebody opens the door, making Zayne look up from your embrace. Tara, your friend looks into the room, gives Zayne and apologetic look. "Just a little announcement, Dr. Zayne you can stay here if you want. The patients in the ward have been taken care of, many of them are stable now. Please rest, and you too Y/N, don't forget that I'm mad at you." she says sadly before leaving.

"Stay with me?" you ask Zayne.

"I would never say no to your requests love."

ANTHOLOGY LIST

#writers #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #fanfiction #my heart is yours #zayne im too down bad for you #will do smut later maybe

51 notes · View notes

storiesbyjes2g · 29 days

Text

3.101 Cash money

I took Kooper for a nice long walk, which was something we didn't do often. He was chill and required less physical activity than Rosie, so I always favored her when I wanted company on my jogs. Even though he could have gone without, he appreciated the time together and smiled the entire time. When we got home, Sophia was standing at the door giving me that look. I unleashed Kooper as quickly as I could and whisked her away into our love den. Being on vacation in a fancy house was cool and all, but nothing compared to our own bed. I think we were trying to show it how much we missed it and lingered there until our stomachs growled around dinnertime. Afterward, we attempted to settle on the couch in the office, but we were intercepted by a huge pile of presents. I forgot that was a thing sims did at weddings. Sophia was overjoyed at the sight; it felt like Winterfest all over again.

I let her open the first two from my parents, but then she handed me a box that had my name on it. I thought it was odd that the sender would single me out when the gift should have been for both of us. But when I saw who it was from, I understood.

"It's from Dub! Oh, there's a card..."

[click to enlarge]

I couldn't believe it and had to sit down and read it again. He had no idea how much of a blessing that was for us. Or maybe he did. Whatever the case, I was elated, and humbled, and determined, and proud, and all the other positive emotions. Our friendship was such a beautiful thing. Not because he gave me money, but because it was pure. It had no conditions or warnings or complications. He was the kind of friend I always wanted.

Eventually, it hit me that Sophia and I were about to come into a bunch of money and we could accomplish our dreams a lot sooner than later. I started dancing in my seat.

"A money tree? I didn't think they were real," Sophia said.

"Isn't it great?? If it grows fast enough, we could be in our house by next week!"

That thought excited me even more, and I danced even wilder.

"It's a very generous gift," she said hesitantly, "but..."

Like a record scratch in the club, I stopped. Party done.

"What's wrong? With all the money we're about to have, you'll never have to work again if you don't want to. We can go on vacations and stay as long as we want, buy our kids whatever they want... Hell, maybe I won't have to worry about teaching classes anymore. It's gonna be great!"

Her hands snapped to her hips, and I knew I'd messed up somehow.

"No, Luca! This is what I mean! I like who we are. Money has a way of changing sims, and I don't want that. I thought you taught yoga because you were passionate about it. Why would you stop? Are you doing it for the money?"

"I am passionate about it! But it's also how I make a living. If I didn't have to worry about making money, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about going from spa to spa, begging for a chance to teach!"

Her eyes flicked open, like she just realized something.

"But that's why you're going to open a studio."

"Yeah, but..." I sank back in the chair and let out all the air in my lungs. "That was my mom's idea. It's a good one, and sometimes I want to do it too. But sometimes I want my own plan. Everything I've done has been her idea, and..."

"So...you don't want a studio?"

"I don't know!"

She gasped.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's just...it's complicated. You want me to return the seed, then?"

She sighed.

"No. That will be an insult to Dub and his family..." She sighed again and paced the room, searching for a solution that would satisfy us both. "It would be nice to move into our house before the baby comes, but I don't want this to get out of control."

Something like a bolt of lightning struck through my soul, and I felt my eyes grow as large as the sun.

"The baby?! Are you-"

She gasped again.

"I'm sorry! That came out wrong! I just meant it would be nice to be settled in our home before we start having babies."

"So...we're not having a baby?"

"Not at the moment."

I was a little bit disappointed, to be honest. Her slip up shocked me at first, but I was kind of excited about it.

"Alright, so what do you suggest we do?" I asked.

"I just think we need a plan. Put some controls on it so we don't go crazy."

Heh, I know she said we, but she totally meant me. Whatever.

"We don't know how much money it's going to give us," she continued. "So what if we just take what we need to get our house and cover ourselves for a few months?"

"Alright... But what happens after that?"

"It can just sit there until an emergency comes up. Or when our kids want to move out or go to university or get married or...whatever."

The plan wasn't exactly what I wanted, but at least she wasn't completely opposed. This very much felt like one of those pick your battles moments, so I conceded.

"Okay fine. We can do it that way. Let's get this thing in the ground."

We went outside and picked a spot to plant it. I laughed when I took the seed out of the box.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"This seed! It's cash shaped like a flower! What kind of wizardry is this?"

I dug a hole, dumped the seed, covered it, and poured some water on it. Then, I stood over it, watching as if something were supposed to happen.

"Grow fast, little guy. I want to be in our new house as soon as possible."

Before going back into the house, I sent Dub a message to thank him for the gift.

Dub's note written by @mysimsloveaffair

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #banks collab

31 notes · View notes

klausysworld · 11 months

Note

hello can you make a one-shot for yandere human klaus mikaelson from the 21st century, where the mikaelsons have a family vacation and travel to a tourist spot and elijah breaks the news to his brothers that he is in a relationship with a younger girl *t /n* and that he is going to bring her to the family trip to introduce her, and his brothers are worried about the age difference between elijah and his girlfriend, because they think that she is only with him for the money, and they are afraid that he will break Elijah's heart, he seems very much in love with her, and when the day comes to meet her, the brothers get defensive, but when they live with her, they start to grow fond of her *especially klaus*, when klaus meets and/or becomes surprises with her, and immediately falls head over heels in love with her and the more he lives with her his obsession grows more and he can't help but get mad that she is with Elijah, and one day, elijah asked klaus to go with him to buy a ring engagement because he wanted to marry y/n and klaus immediately got jealous and started fighting with Elijah.

Humiliation, self-hatred and fear.

Klaus was fully prepared to be as rude as possible to his elder brothers new girlfriend. She was only 19 though when Elijah described her he said she was “almost 20” which apparently makes it better.

He was expecting a ditzy, stereotypical blonde who was basically Elijah’s sugar baby. He was ready to see how fast he and Kol could make her cry just from poking at her.

But when the door opened and a straight up gorgeous women to walk in on Elijahs arm. And no matter how nasty Kol’s comments were, she always had a come back. She practically threw him into his place and Klaus couldn’t bring himself to insult her.

Even Rebekah made a stab at her wearing expensive clothes and how Elijah must be spending a whole lot on her to which y/n mentioned she had a job, looked Rebekah up and down and asked if she did anything other than stick her head up her own ass.

Klaus would be lying he hadn’t spat put his drink on multiple occasions through the first week alone.

He barely said a word to her until the second week when he saw her in their private pool in her little bikini with her hair up and out of her face. She caught him staring and waved him over.

Elijah found them splashing each other in a fit of giggles and smiled, happy someone in his family enjoyed her company.

Once she became a frequent visitor at the Mikaelsons the other siblings warmed up to her of course. Rebekah found that y/n was actually rather helpful when it came to men, clothes and just her opinion in general and Kol found that she was a great person to play video games with.

Klaus of course liked her, a lot.

He had a new compliment waiting for her each time she was in his presence and he was all the more eager to sit and and wait with her for Elijah to come home from work.

She became much more comfortable around Klaus too, he was almost like a brother to her. He was protective over her but lovely at the same time.

Which is why she thought nothing of it when he would put an arm around her or kiss her forehead goodnight.

Or when she moved in and he would give her flowers every now and then just to ‘brighten her day’. At one point she thought maybe he was gay because he never had any girls over which had Elijah nearly choking on his food when she brought up how she could “find the right guy for Klaus”

Elijah assured her his brother was very much a manwhore-for women and that it wasn’t common at all for him to not have anyone over.

And the only time he did have a girl over was when he wanted her to be jealous, only to be entirely heartbroken when she high-fived him in the morning.

So he tried to up his game.

He often moved behind her when she was doing something and would leave a trail of kissed up her neck. “Oh ‘Lijah” she would moan only to turn around and be met with his brother who was sucking along her skin. The first time it happened she was absolutely mortified and thought maybe this was just Klaus being funny and purposely embarrassing her, so she laughed and carried on. And then the more he did it, the more she found it almost normal. Plus it made Elijah jealous sometimes and he would fuck her extra hard. Which meant that she liked to stir it on and start moaning Klaus’s name when he did it which in his head meant she was all over him and in Elijah’s head she was asking for a punishment.

Klaus had taken to smacking her ass or squeezing it when he walked by her, again the first time she had moaned and spun round ready to kiss her lover. So much so that she had pulled Klaus down with her hand on the back of his head and pushed her lips to his hungrily. But his surprised moan and the taste of his lips wasn’t what she knew and she apologised relentlessly for doing it. She had immediately told Elijah her mistake and thankfully he only laughed and brushed it off after seeing his younger brother frozen in the kitchen, utter shock on his face which Elijah took as him not have expecting or wanting y/n to kiss him.

He didn’t realise his brother was later that night reliving the moment over and over as he fucked his hand so hard he was unable to cum anymore.

Klaus even decided that y/n should sit on his lap, no matter what she was wearing.

Even when she came downstairs in Elijah’s shirt and her panties, he had pulled her down to sit on his knee. She was so nervous that her panties were damp from her and Elijahs morning fun that the more worried, the more she shifted which made her wetter by the second.

Thankfully Elijah was out at the shop and hadn’t seem his love getting off on his brothers thigh. But Klaus knew exactly when he was doing. He made sure to move his thigh beneath her without her realising until she herself was rubbing against him. All he had to do was pull her against his chest and kiss her neck while she ground against him. “You’re such a good girl, so beautiful” he told her, his hand pinched her nipple through the thin white shirt she wore. She was too far gone to notice it wasn’t Elijahs voice as she began to yell and moan out as she humped his leg as fast as she could with a loud “oh god!” That had Klaus’s hand moving down to run his fingers over her slippery clit ferociously. Her hips bucked so much as she came all over him, her body slowly and her head falling against his shoulder as she moaned over and over. Klaus kissed her head gently as he kept rubbing her, loving how she pulsed and shook.

That was something y/n never told Elijah, or anyone for that matter, about.

That was when she realised Klaus wasn’t just innocently flirting to be funny.

She realised all the things he had been doing were intentionally not normal.

She no longer knew how to act around him.

She avoided him at all times, not that it stopped him.

He was always there, always touching her and whispering dirty things into her ear which she hated to admit turned her on.

He knew exactly what game he was playing.

He knew how to make her breath heavier, how to make her whimper, moan, how to make her give in and be ontop of him.

He had her in his shower, up against the wall with his hand over her mouth while she cried and screamed with her forth orgasm dripping down her leg while Elijah was the next room over.

But he could always see her shame and she often tried to break up with Elijah out of guilt but Klaus would catch her before she could “you do that and he will go berserk, let me tell you something love, he is a dangerous man when he’s angry. You don’t want to see what he’d do…to the both of us” he whispered acting as though he were afraid of his brother. “I wont say anything about what we’ve done, ill just say it isn’t working”

“You don’t want us to be together? If you do this we wont be able to”

“Maybe we aren’t meant to be together”

Resulting in him fucking her so hard she forgot what she was doing in the first place.

Everything was great for Klaus, he got to have her as much as he wanted no matter who was around, he didn’t care if she was bent over the couch Elijah was sat on while he took her from behind if it meant she was his.

What wasn’t great was Elijah presenting Klaus with a selection of engagement rings and asking for his advice.

And after hours of back and forth discussion over it being too soon, Klaus burst

“She is not yours!” He yelled throwing the ring Elijah had chosen across the room

“What on earth are you on about!?” elijah questioned

“She is mine! She always will be!”

“Yours? Niklaus if this is another fantasy of yours-“ be began with a sigh

“Oh please, this is far more than a fantasy”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she loves me more than she does you” he sneered

“You’re delusional”

“The videotape of her in my bed says differently” his face dropped immediately after the words left his mouth

“Excuse me?” Elijah’s tone was far from calm now. His jaw clenched and his hand balled into a fist. “If you put one of your filthy hands on her-“

“Believe me Elijah the only filthy thing was her moans” he laughed making Elijah swing right at his face, knocking him back

“You ruined her!”

“Please, you couldn’t handle your whore so I took her off your hands!” He yelled but his voice died when he saw y/n across from them.

Tears ran down her face as she looked at him before she looked at Elijah and shook her head

“I really wanted to tell you- I’m so sorry! I was going to leave and leave your family alone but-“ she hiccupped between words and she took steps back.

Elijah stormed straight out of the room, he wasn’t even mad at y/n. He should have known Niklaus would’ve done something like this. Ruined someone so perfect and making her feel like a horrible person. Calling her a whore and treating her like one.

Meanwhile Klaus tried to chase after a bolting y/n as she legged it put the house in utter humiliation, self-hatred and fear.

139 notes · View notes

taizi · 11 months

Text

i’ve got my eye on you

tmnt 2k12 pairing: don & mikey word count: 2k title borrowed from say yes to heaven by lana del ray

read on ao3

“Mikey?” Donnie says, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. “Can I talk to you?”

Mikey looks up from the dough he’s kneading with round eyes, more bewildered than anything. No one ever asks if they can talk to Mikey. His presence in his family’s lives is like sunlight falling on the planet, warm and touching everything and taken for granted. They can always talk to Mikey.

So Don’s question is a weird one, but Mikey doesn’t mention it.

“Pull up some counter, Dee,” he offers instead, patting at the one square foot of the surface that isn’t covered in flour. His fingers leave little clouds behind. “I’m almost done.”

Donnie props his hip against the island and leans there to watch his little brother work. Mikey’s ADHD is textbook in a lot of ways, unpredictable in many others; it’s definitely been a fun learning curve for his family. Don did a lot of research. He’s read that generally people with Mikey’s disorder tend to struggle with tasks like cooking, that it can be an outright Herculean task remembering to eat or even just mustering the energy to feed themselves.

But Mikey loves his kitchen. He gravitates towards it in all his different moods. It gives his pinballing thoughts and restless hands something constructive to focus on with a clear and present reward at the end.

Right now he seems pleased with the dough and gathers it up in a neat little ball before transferring it to a greased mixing bowl and covering it tightly with plastic wrap. When the bowl has been safely stored in the fridge to proof, Donnie joins Mikey in wiping down the counter, mostly for something to do with his hands.

Something’s baking in the oven. Music is playing on Mikey’s phone across the room, acoustic and downbeat and soothing. This room is where everyone in their entire extended family comes to feel safe, even if they don’t know or won’t admit it.

“So listen,” Don finally says. “About earlier. During the race?”

A grin splits Mikey’s face, likely remembering all the fun he had. They’d been looking forward to the ninja race for weeks, ever since Leo first floated the idea.

Leo has come a long way as sensei. It was hard at first, finding his feet, acclimating to this additional burden piled on top of all the ones he already had to carry, but maybe not as hard as it should have been. Leo has always been more of a second parent than a sibling to the rest of them. He’s always been the one they ran to first, even when Splinter was alive; the boy who had to grow up too fast, the one who tried his dad’s oversized jacket on over and over through the years until one day he was surprised to find he had outgrown it.

All this to say—Leo can always tell when his little siblings and pseudo-siblings are due for a break. He poured hours into planning this event, all for his tiny clan of six, and it really showed. The race was part relay, part scavenger hunt, stretching for miles back and forth across Manhattan.

They drew cards out of a bucket to decide pairs, divvying up into three teams of two. When Casey drew the card that matched Mikey’s, he lit up with a manic grin and whipped his head around, a reaction Donnie wasn’t expecting.

“Oh hell yeah!” the human whooped, lifting both hands over his head for a double high-five. “We’re gonna make this night our bitch!”

“Language!” Leo barked, scandalized, like they each hadn’t already heard—and said—a lot worse.

Mikey, for his part, slapped his palms against Casey’s, giggling madly. Donnie looked between the two of them with a frown forming on his face. He had the distinct feeling that he missed something. They all tended to live out of each other’s pockets anymore, trauma-bonding at its worst. Its best? Whatever. If Mikey and Casey were buddies, Donnie would know.

They were both adrenaline junkies, sure. They both liked going fast, living on the edge. As a ninja clan, that was sort of the norm anyway.

But Mikey in particular could outrun anyone in his family any day of the week. Nothing moved fast enough for him. They tried to keep up with him, but sometimes he got too far ahead. He wanted to walk on his hands to feel the grit of asphalt on his palms and the blood rush to his head, or spin in circles in front of the stove while the water boiled, or cartwheel during katas because morning meditation ran too long and his full quota of focus was all used up.

Understimulated, touch-starved, eager for attention, desperate for—something.

Donnie just didn’t realize how desperate until he and Leo crossed paths with Casey and Mikey halfway through the race. From the rooftop, Donnie could see that the token the other boys were gunning for was on the opposite side of the BQE—across five lanes, up on the massive signage structure towering above the expressway. They were on the wrong side when they spotted it.

Smugly, Donnie thought, Tough luck—they’ll have to find a way around. That’s gonna cost them some time.

And then Mikey flew over the guardrail, sprinting straight out into traffic.

Donnie’s heart jumped up into his throat and stayed there.

He was rooted to the spot, like someone watching a train barrel down the tracks toward an inevitable collision. His body forgot how to breathe.

It took his little brother all of fifty seconds to dodge box trucks and SUVs like it was a children’s game, to a chorus of blaring horns from drivers that did not slow down. An eighteen-wheeler missed him by a foot.

Mikey scaled the structure, retrieved the token, and shoved it into the pocket of his over-sized hoodie. Then he waved both arms back at Casey, and pointed down at the guardrail immediately behind him, clearly indicating that they should regroup underneath the overpass. They both disappeared from view on their respective sides of the freeway, off to the next leg of the scavenger hunt.

Don just stood there numbly watching cars go by until Leo doubled back for him.

Raphael and April won the race by all of four minutes—and with it bragging rights to last the next two months, unfortunately for everyone else—but Mikey was in high spirits the whole way home anyway, bouncing with every step. Their brothers must have assumed it was those endorphins from a full night of high-speed play doing their job.

Leo rubbed the top of Mikey’s head with his knuckles fondly, and Raph said something like, “God, you just don’t slow down, do ya?” because they had no idea. They didn’t see it.

Donnie trailed silently at the back of the group, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, his eyes, his hands. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mikey, afraid of what might happen if he let his guard down for even a second, replaying that scene on the expressway over and over and over. It took him hours to muster the courage to finally approach his baby brother in the kitchen.

And now they’re standing here together, and Mikey is humming under his breath, hands beginning to tap restlessly on the countertop. Donnie’s going to lose him in a matter of minutes. Trying to think of a delicate way to say it is getting him nowhere. He takes a page out of Raph’s book and just barrels in.

“I saw you run across the BQE for a token,” he blurts.

Mike tilts his head the way Icky does when she hears something she doesn’t understand. On one hand, he doesn’t deny he did it. On the other, more alarming hand, he also looks blatantly confused about why Donnie thinks it’s worth a discussion.

“We had to get the tokens to win,” Mikey points out, like Don isn’t the one who helped Leo with the rules and regulations.

Clenching his fists, and then folding his arms so Mikey can’t see his fists are clenched, Donnie says, “You wanted to win that bad, Mike?”

He can’t stop seeing the speeding cars; the smear of headlights in the dark; Mikey weaving his way across the lanes, his figure tiny and almost indistinguishable from the rooftop where Don was watching.

Donnie’s remarkable imagination provided the additional details: the way displaced air would have sucked at Mikey’s clothes at each near miss. The sting of the hot asphalt under his feet. The passing lights lighting up his face in fits and bursts, for seconds at a time, and maybe something distracted him—maybe there was a piece of glass or metal on the road and it cut him or he tripped—maybe a reckless driver merged lanes without warning—maybe, maybe, maybe one of a hundred things happened and Mikey was captured or crippled or killed, ripped away from his family because of a stupid, needless risk he took during a game.

They’ve been dragged through war, outer space, time travel. They’ve all been hurt before, in big ways and small ones. It's just. It’s different this time, because it was a game.

Maybe Donnie should be angry at Casey for enabling this behavior. Casey may not be their brother by blood but he’s their brother by every other known metric science has to offer and he should have dragged Mikey off the expressway by the hood of his stupid pink sweatshirt and lit into him for being so reckless the way Leo, April, Raph and Donnie all would have.

But Casey has his own reasons for doing what he does—a dead mom, an alcoholic father, a little sister CPS took away—and if he were a regular, neurotypical, well-adjusted teenager, he never would have put on his painted mask in the first place. He never would have fallen into Donnie’s family.

Casey would have been the one to run into traffic if Mikey hadn't beaten him to it.

Like recognizes like. That’s why they were thrilled to be on each other’s team. They’re both chasing something. They both have too much going on inside their heads to ever just be still.

And Mikey is always all smiles, always the first to offer his siblings a hug or a shoulder to lean on or a safe place to hide from the rest of the world and something sweet to eat in the meantime. Mikey, who hasn’t cried in front of his brothers once since the night their father died, who hasn’t come into Donnie’s lab after a nightmare in even longer than that. He smiles and plays and supports everyone and gives them reasons to run and shout and vent frustrations and groan in exasperation and laugh until they get sick.

No one has to ask the sun to shine, it just does that. And it will until it runs out of fuel, some five billion years from now. The star death was always going to be inevitable. Constant output, finite resources. Nuclear fusion that will hopefully last for as long as it needs to, but not forever.

The sun will get tired one day, and then it’s not going to shine anymore.

“Dee?” Mikey says loudly, in a tone that makes it sound like he’s been saying it over and over. Donnie blinks and he’s back in the kitchen, and Mikey is in front of him, more than a bit confused, more than a bit worried, but here and safe and whole.

Not even a scratch. If Don hadn’t seen it, he never would have known it happened.

He unfolds his arms and opens them. He doesn’t need to say anything for his little twin to spring forward, their plastrons colliding with a solid knock that would have winded a human person. The counters are clean but Mikey is still covered in flour and so Don is covered in flour now, too, and it’s wafting to the floor in tiny cloudbursts every time they move.

It’s the kind of mess Splinter would have made them stop and clean up. But it’s not hurting anything to let the kitchen be a little messy. And it’s Mikey’s kitchen. It’s the one place in the world where what he says goes.

He winds his smaller arms around Donnie’s shell and squeezes as tight as he can. Smushes his cheek against Don’s shoulder because he isn’t tall enough to hook his chin over it the way he’d probably like to. He’s warm and he smells like butter and baked bread and summer and boy. He’s survived every single thing he’s ever done.

Donnie closes his eyes and tries to replace the lights he can still see on the freeway with the ones here at home.

“Can I be on your team next time?” he says.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it,” Mikey agrees instantly. His voice is shaped so much like a toothy grin that Don can see it without looking. Mike doesn’t even know why he’s promising it, just that Donnie needs him to. “We’ll do a clean sweep, nobody’ll know what hit ‘em. B Team’s the Best Team, baby!”

He’s everything warm and light and safe about Donnie’s whole world, and he doesn’t seem to understand how dark every day would be without him. He doesn’t know what he would be taking from his family if he took himself away.

Donatello’s other siblings are self-destructive in obvious ways. Michelangelo, who is loud and obnoxious and has never known a secret he could keep for longer than a day, is somehow more subtle about it.

But now Donnie sees it. He knows what to look for.

#tmnt 2k12 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #hamato donatello #hamato michelangelo #b team #my writing #tmnt fic

85 notes · View notes

planetgutz · 2 years

Note

can u pls do leona smut with his personal fem! servant? imagine mc kneels and begs leona to use/fuck her until he wants and she calls him "master leona" or "my king"

wait this is so good omg !

✶ content: kinda mean leona, reader acts kind of brainwashed, oral (male receiving), slight degradation, face fucking, cumshot, spit, not proofread whoops !

✶ pairing: king!leona x fem!servant!reader

word around the palace was that master leona was in a horrendous mood that day. it would be in your and everyone else's best interests if they stayed out of his way and complied with his every wish if he asked something of you. as the king's personal servant, you were expected to go above and beyond in regard to your duties. that's why you found yourself in leona's personal chambers, kneeling in front of his bed as you had been taught.

the loud slam of the door startles you but you manage to keep your composure. you lift your head and take in the scene before you. leona stands before you, agitation is apparent on his face. he must have come back from one of those royal meetings he refuses to tell you about or let you attend. his eyes scan over you as he shuts the door and makes his way over to where you are.

"you definitely are a sight for sore eyes after the day i've had"

he moves closer and gently takes your face in his hand, as if he's examining you. you avert your eyes and clear your throat. "my king, it's my duty to fulfill any wish of yours so please do whatever you would like with me" he lets go of your face and laughs. "i am aware of that but what makes you think i'd just fuck any lowly servant girl?" you feel your face heat up. you move to get up from your kneeling position and ask for his forgiveness but leona pushes you back down.

"not so fast. i didn't say you couldn't persuade me"

oh so he wanted you to beg? you could do anything as long as it pleased him. still kneeling, you looked up at him. "please master leona use me! you can fuck me any way you'd like and i'd be eternally grateful, i'm nothing more than a whore for you to use!" you take notice of the growing bulge in his pants and reach up to touch it. he smacks your hand away. "silly girl, you know better than that" you softly apologize and move to unzip his pants with your teeth.

leona decides to be generous and helps you pull down his underwear, his hard cock now inches away from your face. he grabs you by the face once again, rubbing his cock against your lips. "for your sake, i hope every word you said was true, i'm not planning on being gentle with you" with that, he shoves his cock into your mouth, almost immediately hitting the back of your throat. you gag around him and he groans, grip on your head tightening.

leona only allows you a moment to recuperate before he's thrusting into your mouth again. the sound of your gagging and the drool coating your face and his cock only fuels him more. "such a good girl, you like choking on the dick of royalty, huh?" you try your best to respond but it only comes out as gargles. he takes pity on you and pulls you off his cock.

"i love it so much, my king!" you pant, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible. leona smirks and resumes his prior activity. he's full on fucking your face now, balls slapping against your chin. his breathy moans and whines are turning you on more than you expected. you reach a hand down under your dress to rub your soaked pussy through your panties. leona's thrusts start to get erratic, you can tell he's about to reach his peak. "a-ah fuck! gonna cum! better swallow it all, my pretty whore."

with one final thrust, he's emptying his entire load down your throat. he stills and stays inside your mouth until he's completely spent. leona pulls his cock out of your mouth, tucking it back into his pants. you know the drill by now and open your mouth to show him his cum. he hums in approval and pats your cheek, signaling for you to swallow.

"now that's my obedient little servant"

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twst x reader #leona kingscholar smut #twst imagines #leona kingscholar x reader #fem!reader #gutzreqs

510 notes · View notes

girlreviews · 2 months

Text

Review #263: Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman

You don’t get artists like Tracy Chapman come along too often, and it’s infuriating when they do, because you see the same old shit play out. People are threatened by their mere presence and the idea that they can make something so incredible, but especially that it might give marginalized people a voice. This record came out the year I was born, so it’s approaching its 36th birthday. It’s both unsurprising and also a little devastating at how relevant it remains in 2024. I’ll start by saying: I love it, her, I always have, and I have so many memories attached to this record. Some so sad and some really sweet, all really tender.

But I have something to say about both music critics and general white fragility when it comes to Tracy. Here’s a 1988 review from renowned critic Robert Christgau, self proclaimed “Dean of American Rock Critics” (are American rock critics some kind of authority too? Why’s that? Interesting.):

"Fast Car" is so far-seeing, "Mountains o' Things" so necessary, that it's doubly annoying when she puts her name on begged questions like "Why" and "Talkin' Bout a Revolution." Maybe I should be heartened and so forth that Intelligent Young People are once again pushing naive left-folkie truisms, but she's too good for such condescension--even sings like a natural. Get real, girl. B MINUS”

Where to begin? Firstly, that is the entire review. So you want to talk about condescension, Robert? You can start by referring to Tracy Chapman as a grown woman, which she is, and was, in 1988. And critic you may be, but you’ve never written a review that’s even half as good as Talkin’ Bout A Revolution, which is more relevant today than any of your writing. Why was about apartheid. Maybe you had the luxury of not giving a fuck. Assigning grades? B minus? Get real, boy.

Curious what grade you gave Paul Simon’s Graceland, an album recorded during apartheid, some in South Africa with an array of African musicians who he then toured with. This was both criticized and praised. The point is, it was very political, not in content so much, but in creation. So, when it’s done by an egotistical white man? Listen, I love Graceland but don’t think I won’t be looking into that with some serious side-eye. OH WHAT A FUCKING SURPRISE, PAUL SIMON’S 1986 GRACELAND RECEIVED AN A. Fuck all the way off, and then fuck off some more.

This album isn’t for you. Has it ever occurred to you that not every piece of music was made to be consumed by you? And to be declared worthy by you? Jesus fucking Christ, the audacity. She’s singing about poverty, the kind most people will never truly know. The traumatic kind. She’s singing about domestic violence, you know, the kind typically perpetrated by men against women and that too often takes their lives. She’s singing about a tense relationship with the police. She’s singing about escaping dire situations with a glimmer of hope that she might finally belong, that she might finally “be someone”… Only to find herself in seemingly just as dire ones. Do you relate, Robert? Let’s go back to 1988 and you just sit this one out. To be clear, it’s not entirely for me either! But when you have that awareness, you can hear something and still appreciate it. It’s not that hard.

Fast Car was still on the radio a good bit when I was growing up, and again, I think my Mom played this record from time to time. But my real connection to Tracy Chapman came to me in two different ways: VH1’s Pop Up Video, which I watched every single day before I went to school. Over and over, the same episodes. There was an episode that featured Fast Car, and I remember just being floored by the little facts that popped up. Her life had been so unbelievably difficult, with challenge after challenge — which is pretty damn clear in the song. The thing I always remember is that as a young girl, she had saved up her money to buy a guitar, and then her best friend stole it. As stupid as it sounds I think about that all the time. Anyway, this song is special, and everyone knows it, it’s massive, but it’s something different to everyone. Can anyone relate specifically to what she’s describing? Probably somebody, somewhere. Maybe lots of people. But I can tell you that I listened to this song curled up in my bed pretending to be asleep with tears streaming down my face. Wishing that some parts of it weren’t true for me, and wishing that some parts of it were. It’s both a gut punch and a cup of tea between my cold hands.

The second way was Baby Can I Hold You, which, and this kind of cracks me up, was covered by Irish boyband Boyzone in the 90s. Little baby me was pretty into Boyzone, but eventually learned that the original artist was Tracy Chapman. Obviously, her version is better. It hurts my feelings. Is it someone declaring their feelings? Or is it someone communicating the experience of an emotionally unavailable partner, and the words they long to hear? Either way, there’s an ache in it, and it’s beautiful.

Tracy Chapman has been having a major resurgence, because a white male country artist covered Fast Car and as a result an entire new generation of young people are being moved by it. While I kind of wish there wasn’t a cover like this at all, it’s been nice to see Luke Combs give Tracy Chapman the spotlight she deserves and make it her moment. They seem to have a sweet and thoughtful relationship, and he truly loved the record when it came out. He had it on cassette. It was really something to see Tracy on stage at the Grammys smiling, thriving, looking beautiful as ever and singing with that voice just shutting everybody the hell up. I also appreciate that he kept the genders the same in his cover. I’d love to know whether he chose that or whether she insisted upon it. Either way, it was the right call.

Chances are you’ve heard Fast Car, and maybe even Baby Can I Hold You. Don’t be a dweeb, this record is significant and I really believe you’re missing out if you go through your life without listening to it, but it’s your call. I’d like to personally thank Tracy Chapman and VH1’s Pop Up Video for their contributions to my life and the content of my brain. I love you both so very much.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #tracy chapman #fast car

8 notes · View notes