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#the worst ones like this one are around people
tobiasdrake · 1 day
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Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?
Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.
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And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.
Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.
Fucking based.
From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.
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He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.
By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.
Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.
But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.
In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.
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This is Frieza.
Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.
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The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.
What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.
We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.
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The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.
This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.
He later executes Vegeta this same way.
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Done with you.
All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.
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Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.
Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.
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The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.
I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.
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But that's just me.
In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.
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He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.
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Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.
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Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.
The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.
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And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?
Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.
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Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?
This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."
He is correct.
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Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.
So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.
Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.
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Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.
What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."
Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.
Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.
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Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.
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He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.
But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:
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He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"
It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.
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But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.
So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.
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But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.
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This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.
He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.
In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.
This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.
He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.
And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 days
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Pomegranate [Yan Lust Entity] Blurb
[Mentions of Male Lactation, Alcohol, Titty Sucking, Slight Dubcon because aphrodisiac and Reader is big sad]
One sip couldn't hurt....
You've been down on your luck recently- The few friends you still had dragged you out to this party in an attempt to raise your spirits. They swore they'd be back to check up on you when you insisted on clinging to a corner. That was over an hour ago. You even heard one of their names when word of someone passed out in the bathroom got around.
You wish you could remember the face of the stranger who handed you the cup. To thank them or question why they choose you of all people you weren't sure yet. Perhaps they knew you were in need of a release. The potent odor of whiskey jolts your senses as you swirl the dark liquid around the bottom of the cup - lips twitching in horror....and interested. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you throw your head back to finish it all in one go before your brain has time to weight the consequences of your actions.
Bracing for the bitter taste, your lips instead met the soft flesh of someone else's palm. A floral aroma snuffs the sharp scent of alcohol clinging to your nostrils. You look to your right, hoping to see a familiar face - fully aware they've already forgotten you.
"Drinking all by your self, Sweetheart?
Puzzled, your confusion makes it all the easier for the stranger to gently free the cup from your hold, praying each finger from the rim as if carefully removing the thorns from a rose. He never looks away as he relives you of the cup from what you can tell. It's impossible to tell where he's looking with his hair parted over his face like that. You catch a glimpse of his smile, lips painted an unnatural shade. Was it the lights of the room or your wry mind tinting his skin that strange color of purple?
"That's no good. Alcohol can bring out the worst in people. Other times it makes them forget. If forgetting your troubles is all you need I can provide you with a substitute that would be far better for you in the long run."
His hand frames your cheek, fingers pulling around to the back of your neck as he unbuttons his collar. The man cradles your head against his chest, shielding you from onlookers between his body and the very wall you hugged minutes prior to remain unseen by the crowd. Wetness glazes your cheek as he tugs the fabric of his shirt under his pectoral muscles for access to the skin beneath. A trickle of pale white fluid drips freely from his nipples. It carries that same floral scent if not moderately sweeter and ten times more intoxicating. Against all voices screaming in your head, your tongue acts before you can listen to reason. Putting your mouth on a complete stranger's breast wasn't on the top of your list for this evening, but with the week you've had it wasn't the worst thing to happen to you.
The male coos as your lips wrap around his skin, care not to prod you with his claws as he brushes hair from your face. It's sweet. You can't compare it to any percentage of milk you've had before. The man cups his chest, pumping more of his milk down your eager throat. Your eyes glaze over, legs unable to carry themselves without his support. It's the most enthralling reaction he's seen from a mortal in some type. He was a sucker for a cute face same as the humans he bewitched. He was in the mood for a quick meal, but it wouldn't hurt to keep you around for just a little while.
His knees tremble at the soft whine you make as he pulls you from his chest.
"Can... Can I have more, please?"
So polite too.
"Soon. It's the least I can give you after all you've been through, but before then why don't we start from the top by introducing ourselves? My name is Pomegranate. It is a pleasure to have you."
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steddielations · 1 day
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- nsfw, manhandling, coming in pants
One thing Eddie wasn’t expecting when he started dating Steve is just how playful he is.
Seriously, of all the things people say about Steve Harrington, it goes really understated. Eddie asked Nancy about it to see if Steve’s always been like this or if it’s just Eddie that brings out this side of him. But even when they were together, Steve was throwing Nancy into pools and twirling her around in the hallways. 
It’s different with Eddie though, of course, because Steve’s not as worried about hurting or crushing him. So Eddie’s getting thoroughly manhandled on a daily basis and, well, he loves it.
All he has to do is snatch the remote from Steve or flick him on the ear or say something a little mouthy and he gets wrestled to the ground with the man of his dreams on top of him. Eddie obviously fucking loves it.
He just didn’t realize how much. 
And right now is the worst time for him to find out.
They’re at Rick’s. It’s the best place for them to hang out. Secluded. No neighbors or parents or angry townspeople sniffing around. Rick is cool, always has been. They just hang out, smoke, music, movies, business, and then Rick is fine with them doing what they do. He even lets them defile the spare room. It’s safe.
It’s not safe for Eddie at the moment, though, because he decided to steal Steve’s gum out of his mouth when he gave him a quick kiss. Well, it was supposed to be a quick kiss, but Eddie dragged Steve down on the couch, bumping into Rick as Eddie made the kiss dramatic and messy.
“Alright, love-dudes, any closer and I’m gonna be in on the action,” Rick jokes when Eddie and Steve are practically in his lap.
Eddie drags Steve up by the collar, pulling back from the kiss with a loud smack. Steve’s hair is artfully disheveled, still caught off guard from the sudden lip-locking session. His eyes are slow to focus on Eddie’s grin, chewing on the minty prize he claimed from Steve’s mouth.
“Baby, that was my last piece.” Steve reaches to cup Eddie’s face but Eddie catches his hands first.
“It’s mine now.” Eddie blows a bubble to really tease him. “Unless you’re gonna come take it back.”
Eddie can see Steve toying with the idea in his mind, his pupils widening like an animal before it pounces. Eddie’s heart rabbits in his chest, just eager for whatever Steve’s going to do to him, wanting to rile him up even more, make it worse.
Steve grabs him by the shoulders, trying to lean in for another kiss to take the gum back, but Eddie dodges his lips. Eddie’s laughing, somewhere between delighted and deranged, as all the grabbing and swaying makes them tumble onto the floor. 
Steve lands on top and Eddie’s breath rushes out of him from the collision of their bodies. It gives him an exhilarating head-spin, positively reeling all over as they roll around on the carpet. 
Steve is relentless, stubbornly determined and Eddie realizes how much he loves it in moments like this. Like no matter how wild and obnoxious he gets, Steve won’t give up on him, won’t let him go. Steve keeps grabbing him, trying to kiss him, flipping over on top of him, holding onto Eddie tight enough to bruise. 
At one point, Eddie almost gets away but Steve rips his shirt dragging him back. It sends a hot shot of thrill through him, feeling how much Steve wants him so viscerally like that. Something in Eddie just needs Steve to have him and gives in, letting Steve pin him down.
It’s only when Steve’s body bears down and wedges between Eddie’s legs that he realizes he’s hard. It hurts in a good way, trapped inside his jeans with all of Steve’s warm weight bearing down on him. He can’t tell if Steve notices, all caught up in wrangling Eddie’s wrists, playful fire in his eyes as he pins them above Eddie’s head.
Eddie’s mouth falls open and he feels something slip out. Maybe it’s all the air from his lungs or maybe there’s a breathy moan laced in there too. He can’t tell over the blood rushing in his ears and the fog filling his mind. He doesn’t think Rick’s paying them any attention, though, watching tv.
Steve doesn’t stop and Eddie fucking loves him for that. He bends, finally able to seal his mouth to Eddie’s now, holding him down where he needs him. Eddie lets Steve lick open his lips, tongue dipping inside in search for the gum that Eddie forgot all about. He might’ve swallowed it by accident, but Steve’s kissing him deep enough to find it anywhere.
It’s so good. Eddie’s stomach is doing ecstatic little flips, just lying there letting Steve kiss him hard and squeeze his wrists and push his hips into Eddie’s. 
It all collides filthily in his mind, feeling wanted and trapped and taken.
Eddie doesn’t feel all the pleasure mounting until he’s already coming, wet warmth filling his jeans. His hips are moving in shallow thrusts against Steve’s before he can help it, moaning loud and long into the kiss.
Steve pulls back, both of them heaving for breath in the awkward quiet that falls over the room. It’s deafening silence for a moment, until Rick breaks it with a laugh and mumbles something about going to smoke before the door shuts behind him.
Eddie’s still foggy from the hell of an orgasm he just had, but Steve is wide eyed and wild haired above him. He’s still holding Eddie down, maybe stuck in shock, his face is flushed and Eddie can’t tell if it's from embarrassment or something else.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Stevie, I couldn’t—” Eddie starts to apologize but Steve cuts him off with an even rougher kiss from before.
Eddie smirks into it, feeling Steve rut against the wet spot on his jeans, feeling how hard he is too.
So, he’s not the only one finding out just how into this he is.
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visenyaism · 3 days
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which bg3 companion do you think would be the worst school teacher?
let’s get it on the board:
10. Unquestionably Astarion. he has no patience, is extremely prickly, is always looking out for himself first, hates children, and is bad at planning. he would not want to be a teacher or attempt to do it unless convinced through some kind of elaborate network of trickery or excessive bribery. he’s just not built for it.
9. Minthara. I debated whether to put her or Astarion last because I think that he would be worse at the job but she would probably end up causing more harm. I know she is running fascist panopticon classroom management at all times. type of person to leave the blinds shut at all times so it’s like an evil cave classroom with occasional nasty fluorescents. no one likes it in there.
8. Shadowheart. I don’t have a ton to say here I just don’t think her heart is in it. 
7. Minsc. enthusiasm can get you very very far.
6. Karlach. very very sweet and everyone loves her but also kind of scattered and goes on one billion tangents. could actually convince adolescents to enjoy gym class. 
5. Halsin. I think he would be pretty good at it but I also think a job that requires you to commit to having a routine would be terrible for him so he definitely wouldn’t stick around
4. Lae’zel. Hear me out she is extremely brusque and not always great with people, but the way that she is so straightforward and honest about her intentions, her goals, and what she’s trying to do to get everyone there would earn her a lot of respect very quickly. The people love a good clear consistent routine.
3. Jaheira. wins the award for most gay kids eating in her room at lunch. easily. never has a lesson plan but somehow her kids are always doing the best out of everyone in the building. takes no shit.
2. Gale. D1 yapper just like me for real. canonically IS a teacher. sometimes get stuck on tangents or forgets that students do not want to sit and listen to lectures for as long as he does. me personally I don’t think threatening to blow yourself up would be effective classroom management but male teachers simply get away with five times as much as they should
1. Wyll. One of the highest compliments I can give to another human being is that they would be an excellent specifically middle school teacher and I really think Wyll has the personality for it. he is so patient and warm and kind to others and unwaveringly principled AND extremely self-sacrificing so you know that admin love him. no one knows how he does it.
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shellforbrains · 2 days
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the idea of Stolas publicly humiliating Blitzø in Apology Tour needs, needs, NEEDS to be looked at through the lens of their class difference.
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(this is an idea that's been floating around twitter. that stolas is going full diss track in the scene the above screencap is from.
and weirdly enough, there's been some people PRAISING or DEFENDING the idea.
so i did a thread about it on twitter & decided to post it here too bc why not. slightly edited of course bc i made typos in the original lmao.)
first off: i am of the belief that one of the big reasons that Full Moon goes badly is bc stolas is off his meds.
i think that both stolas & blitzø will share some blame for the conversation spiraling out, but i think the main underlying reason that this happens is bc stolas is off his meds & not communicating his point properly.
second: i think that if blitzø DOES cross some sort of line in FM & ends up really hurting stolas, stolas is obviously within his rights to be hurt & feel bad about that shit. and especially bc he's going through his second adolescence & feeling a lot of these intense & big feelings for the first time.
him lashing out in some way or being a little petty could be in somewhat understandable. he's not perfect & has flaws just like everyone else.
HOWEVER. i do not think stolas lashing out after FM or going so far as to PUBLICLY HUMILIATE blitzø is what will happen. doing something like this would kinda be major steps backwards in stolas' character growth.
he has done a lot of work on himself over the 1st half of season 2 but he still has a long ways to go, ESPECIALLY in regards to how he treats imps as a whole.
stolas, a very powerful and influential prince of hell showing up to publicly humiliate blitzø, an imp at the bottom of hell's class system, would be... very questionable at best. and potentially dangerous for blitzø at worst.
regardless of how hurt stolas could potentially be & what big feelings he's experiencing for the first time in his second adolescence, the position & privilege he still currently holds are things that always needs to be considered. especially since a huge part of his character arc is that he's starting to REALIZE the extent of that class divide & how he unintentionally took advantage of that with the Full Moon Deal.
i REALLY do not think that stolas will actually belt out a blitzø diss track. i think that he will be using this opportunity to attempt to communicate properly what he WANTED to say in FM but couldn't bc their conversation spiraled.
but i am still writing this to try to get people to look at this from an alternate perspective.
i love stolas. i relate to him so much & i don't want to make it seem like i don't think he's allowed to be imperfect or hurt by things. i am merely REMINDING anyone that reads this that the class difference between stolas & blitzø currently still plays a large part in A LOT of aspects of their relationship.
publicly humiliating blitzø with the influence he has would NOT be a girlboss moment. it would carry a LOT of weight on how blitzø & his company could be seen & maybe even have an effect on their livelihood.
which is exactly what stolas wanted to AVOID by giving blitzø the crystal in the first place.
he is giving the crystal so that I.M.P can keep going & growing, as well as trying to put blitzø & himself on ever-so-slightly more even footing. this idea of publicly humiliating blitzø would be the exact OPPOSITE of that.
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lovebugism · 3 days
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u said 2 do ur worst for shy!r so…. steve and reader go to the hawkins snowball dance and a slow song comes on and its a uber romantic song (i’m talking taylor swift type romance) and steve ofc asks r to dance… she’s super shy so she keeps looking at the floor but then steve does the thing where you lift the other persons chin up so they’re looking into ur eyes… if u wanna elaborate on this :)
i changed this up a wee bit, but i hope u like it! — when steve is finally crowned prom king, all he can think about is getting a dance with his (sorta) secret girlfriend (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.2k)
Steve abandons his crown and scepter somewhere between the bleachers and the snack table. The thought of finding you is far more important than the chunks of plastic they give him. 
The cold breeze of the early evening cools his warm cheeks, flushed red from the adrenaline and the alcohol. He finds you sitting on the wooden bench outside the gymnasium, pretty and all alone. The skirt of your fairy-tale dress billows around your calves. Elbows digging into your thighs, you prop your chin on your fists and pout softly beneath the pale moonlight. 
You’re the prettiest thing Steve’s ever seen. The saddest, too, maybe.
“Been looking for you,” he says to announce his presence. The lopsided smile on his face is audible. You know it’s dancing on his pink mouth before you ever turn around to face him. 
He’s a pretty thing in a sleek tux. Boyishly handsome. Sort of like he’s playing dress-up. The thought almost makes you smile.
“Sorry,” you apologize in a mousy voice, blinking up at him with sparkly, made-up eyes when he looms over you. “It got… really loud in there…”
“Well, Tommy spiked the punch, so… It was kinda inevitable,” Steve jokes with a lazy shrug, even though he isn’t really joking. 
He watched the idiot steal his dad’s best liquor from the high-up cabinet two hours ago. The Hawkins High class of ’85 got drunk on it in record time. The school pulses with life accordingly. The brick behind you threatens to shake with it.
Your nose scrunches. “Is that why it tasted like gasoline?”
“Probably,” Steve grins.
He huffs and sits at the spare spot next to you. The old bench creaks in protest. He takes his first good breath all night when he’s finally alone with you. The fresh air and your perfume fill his lungs, smoother than silk. There’s a subtle euphoria and a distant nostalgia between it all. 
He’s spent years chasing this feeling. He thought maybe being crowned prom king would solve all his problems. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. ‘Cause you did.
“You coming back inside?”
Your lips purse to the side of your mouth as you ponder the question. “I don’t know… Probably not.”
Steve’s freshly shaven face swirls with visible confusion. He loves a party — especially when he’s the life of it — so it’s hard for him to comprehend how other people don’t. Even though he knows, more than anyone else, that you’re made of something much more delicate than that.
“Why not?”
“Prom’s not really my scene, Steve,” you answer with a scoffed-out laugh.
He flashes you a crooked smile in return, painted silver in the moonlight. His cologne swaddles you in its musk when he leans over to nudge your shoulder. “You promised me a dance, remember?”
Your soft features harden into a frown. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, c’mon! You know you wanna dance with me,” he protests through a poorly bitten-back laugh.
“Why?” you press, meeting his beam with a lighthearted scowl. “So all your friends can laugh at me?”
“Screw ‘em! They’re assholes— who cares?”
“I care. ‘Cause you’re not the one they’re laughing at, King Steve.”
You spit the stupid nickname with playful venom in your tone, but Steve can’t help but smile at it, anyway. He’s a week away from graduating, halfway employed, and Hawkins High’s reigning prom king. It’s all slightly maddening — especially now that he’s got you.
He wonders if you applauded when he won that stupid crown. If you laughed at him about it, or if you were strangely proud. He’ll ask you about it later. After he gets that dance.
“Let ‘em laugh,” he shrugs.
You shake your head, averting your gaze with a sad smile. You wish it were that easy. 
“You don’t know what it’s like,” you tell him as the heavy bass inside the school starts to slow. Through the high-up frosted windows, you hear Girls on Film fade into Never Tear Us Apart. 
“Sorry for wanting to dance with my girlfriend,” he teases to ease the tension. It comes out more serious than he intended, though, ‘cause he is sort of sorry. Nothing about your two worlds exactly meshes — yet here he is, still hopelessly trying to tangle them together.
You know this, so you sigh. “Sorry for not being prom queen,” you joke back, only partly serious. You blink at him with a pair of twinkling eyes — slightly smudged with mascara. The sparkles of your eyeshadow glint when they catch the moonlight. 
“Don’t want you to be prom queen,” Steve confesses softly, smiling at you somehow softer. “I like you the way you are right now.”
You get a warm, tingly feeling in your stomach. It wells up your chest and into your throat until you feel like you might cry. 
You roll your eyes at him when they start to burn, laughing softly to distract from the overwhelming feeling. Your gaze flits to the velvet night sky, speckled with twinkling stars, until you get the courage to look back at the boy beside you. His face glitters with something hopeful. 
You swallow hard and ask, “You still want that dance or what?”
Steve glows with a boyish excitement. “Yeah! Are you kidding? Of course, I do.”
“Out here, though,” you tell him when he rises from the bench.
He smiles at the stern look in your delicate eyes. “Why? You ashamed of me or somthin’?” he jokes, as if he wasn’t named just prom king.
You stand before him with your arms crossed over the pretty corset of your dress. You bite back a smile. “I just wanna spend time with my boyfriend without it being on the cover of The Weekly Streak tomorrow,” you confess.
“Fair enough,” Steve nods, smoothing his wide hands over your sides. 
Yours are much less confident. They tremble with a misplaced worry as they spread over his shoulders. Your fingers fidget on the satin lapels of his expensive suit. His longer ones guide you back and forth, swaying you gently to the slow beat of the muffled song.
—Don’t ask me, what you know is true…
Don’t have to tell you, I love your precious heart—
You get lost in it all before you mean to. The warmth of having him so close, swaddled in his big hands and deep cologne. 
His honeyed gaze hasn’t yet wavered from you, but you don’t have the heart to meet it. He’s looking at you like he loves you. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re the fucking prom queen. 
You don’t feel particularly deserving of any of it.
“Are you still having fun?” you ask with a scrunched nose, visibly riddled with feelings of inadequacy. You still haven’t quite figured out why he’d rather be out here with you than inside with everyone else — with Vicki Carmichael, the actual prom queen.
“Loads,” Steve answers without missing a beat. His hands squeeze reassuringly at your hips as he flashes you a crooked grin. “It’s not even a question, honestly. I’d choose you over those schmucks in there any day of the week.”
He nods his slicked-back hair to the pulsing brick a few feet away. A few gelled chestnut strands drape over his forehead. You fight the urge to push them back.
“Really?” you squeak with your pretty face, all dolled up, twisted with an innocent look of confusion.
You have no idea how beautiful you are, Steve thinks to himself.
“Yeah,” he nods, grinning wide and wearing all his adoration on his chiseled, golden face. He could hide it if he tried. “Tommy Hagan isn’t nearly as pretty to look at.”
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blackmoonoracle · 2 days
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PICK A CARD - WHAT'S BEING HIDDEN FROM YOU?
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PILE ONE Channeled song: Paint the Town Red - Doja Cat
Some of you may be pregnant without knowing, of course this doesn't apply to everyone but that's certainly a thing for someone. For some of you it could be a dream you've been working on cultivating since childhood beginning to take root into reality. Being able to take some kind of forward movement that allows you freedom. Some of you may be developing a deeper relationship with a sibling or child family member as well. Maybe a family member could be pregnant as well. There's definitely a vibe of fertility and joy here. Something being built from the ground up as well. For some of you it could be a business you're trying to develop. Or even a dream career, or getting into a school or some kind of huge positive development in your life. You might not see it yet, but the tables are absolutely going to be turning in your favor. You may be exploring more, and find opportunity to express your emotions. I see this group may be learning to develop better boundaries. There could be people trying to create blockages in your forward movement. I see however that you are learning to depend more on your own thoughts, feelings, and overall discernment. Independence is absolutely being developed here, for some of you it could be that you are maturing into a new phase of your life and self expression that you're not seeing as well. I feel like there's a need here to really acknowledge the amount of growth you've achieved. Yeah, there's some major positive shifts happening here. If you've maybe been feeling stagnant or stuck, especially due to family having control over your finances or actions I see a lot of freedom coming here. You've developed some kind of discipline, or possibly self reliance that you previously may have felt was unattainable.
I think that's about it for you guys pile one! sorry it's short.
PILE TWO
Channeled Song: IDGAF - Drake ft Yeat
I feel like there are a lot of people who may not particularly have good intentions towards you pile 2. There could even be an air and water sign woman working together to create some kind of binding on your financial stability. What's crazy though is that I see it's not even able to manifest into the physical realm. The worst that they're able to do is exacerbate your limiting beliefs regarding financial stability. LOLLL, weaaaaak.
You may end up speaking your truth regarding some kind of situation soon as well. I see that there may also be a reveal of whoever these people are that have been trying to meddle in your finances. You may be in hermit mode currently, or seeking to isolate from people for the most part. There seems to be a lot of speculation around what you're up to and what you're doing pile 2. People could even be arguing over you. You may be leaving behind some sort of belief system that was at some point a core piece of your ideology. Some kind of realization is going to come that will bring a significant amount of balance into your life. I'm also hearing your body though, which is interesting. So there's some major balance coming into play here for you. It's sooo weird, because it feels like there are a lot of people who have it out for you. I see here that there is an emperor type energy that is very lost. This person may be trying to manifest you into their lives against your will? I just feel like a lot of this pile is likely confirmations, as it's clear to me you all are tapped the fuck in. Seeing as the high priestess has come out. I feel that you may not be aware that there is either a father figure, or older man who is doing spellwork or manifestation work on you. I feel that it's important for you to set energetic boundaries with people. First person shooter just came on, and it was the part where he said "dont trust everything that you saw on IG" so this person could be stalking you on instagram? I feel like they're driving themselves mad trying to figure out what the hell is going on in your life. For some of you they may not be older, but they may be very controlling or authoritative in some way. Someone with an ego that is larger than life. I heard "where in the world is carmen san diego" so what may be hidden from you is that there are a lot of people with their eyes on you pile 2. People may sense that you are about to do something big? I see here that you will be in a comfortable position. You are about to put an end to something, this feels like setting boundaries and speaking your piece. I also see that you are overcoming some sort of lack mindset that you struggle with. You are absolutely developing into a new person right now. I see here that what you don't know is that your shadow is a huge piece of how you receive and download psychic information. There's something about being deeply impressionable, but learning discernment and therefore being able to use this receptivity to glean hidden information. I'm also feeling something about mind reading here? This pile could be developing the gift of telepathy. I'm feeling very much Taurus rising energy here, off the strength of the fact that this is absolutely giving scorpio in the 7th house energy. With this capability to just read into the depths of the people around you. Seeing deep into the minds of others. What's being hidden from you is that more often than not you are in fact reading people to filth. I think that it may upset people when you are right for some reason. It's like there's this competitive energy towards you. I heard "keep up" like people are trying to keep up with you, or they're trying to outdo you so that you feel like you have to keep up with them. Regardless, I do see that through processing, acknowledging and accepting the hidden aspects of your personality you will find deep fulfillment and even financial gain! How interesting.
PILE THREE
Channeled Song: Highs & Lows - Chance the Rapper
Some sort of information is being hidden from you pile 3, but it's not because of anything outside of you. It's because you overthink shit like baaaaad. I heard "8" so the number 8 could be significant here somehow. You're being asked to maybe step back, your ego could be blocking your ability to think clearly. There's an emphasis on teamwork here, I feel that this pile has a verrrryy hard time taking criticism. What's being hidden from you is that your ego exceeds your knowledge, and that you may need to find a better balance within yourself. I heard something also about meddling, some of you may struggle with envy or jealousy.
To be honest pile 3, I feel like you really need to learn to allow things to flow. There's some sort of link to familial trauma, or control issues rooting from the family that have resulted in this outlook on life. Perhaps you could be rather inflexible in your ideology. Very set in your ways. I see that what you don't see is that a tower moment is coming in order to shift your perspective. I kind of see it as like- for example in football being tackled. I see you taking it on the chin and getting back up and continuing to go on. Don't be so stubborn, and learn to release bitterness. You may be grieving a perceived loss regarding some sort of project you're very passionate about. Or even possibly just feeling exhausted regarding this project. I feel that you guys are in a deep, and brooding, and veryyyyy aggressive energy in order to protect yourself. I'm seeing like crows in a parking lot circling scraps of food.
You could have had to fight for everything in life- and now spirit is asking you to sit back and allow shit to unfold. What's being hidden is that by creating a better work life balance, and taking better care of yourself that you will be able to get over this bump in the road concerning your financial stability. Transmuting your fear and greed into security and generosity will deeply help you in moving onward. I see here that you could be feeling stuck on a standstill. Learn to relax a little, things don't have to constantly be so serious. You have a lot of blessings coming in, so just sit tight and let it come in. <3 You're gonna be just fine. Better than fine honestly! It's going to be okay, I promise. :3 One more thing actually, there's a line in the channeled song that goes "The best things in life on the opposite side of fear".
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Text
➤Ꮮꭼꭲ ꮋꮖꮇ ꮐꮻ
A/n: I apologize, I'm not very good at angst
|| request here ||
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You thought he was everything, the love of your life, the one you were going to spend the rest of your life with and you had thought Lucifer felt the same.
He told you so
Being a fallen angel, you did not think anyone would want you....not that you could blame them, not after what the exterminators did but he....but Lucifer made you feel special...loved. It felt like heaven being with Lucifer.
He said he loved you...he said it but that all changed when she came back. He stopped looking you in the eye, he refused to look you in the eye.
'made a dumb mistake'
You could hear the tremble in his voice but he still wasn't looking you in the eye. Your teeth sunk into your lip, your arms wrapping around your stomach. It started to feel like the rumors about Lilith were being true.
It hurt....why did it have to hurt so much when he ended things. It felt like you couldn't breathe, that your world was crashing down on you. So you did the only rational thing that made sense to you, you left.
Biting back sobs, you felt a hand rub your back gently. Your body shifting spotting Angel Dust, he was one of the few people you were close too. The demon acting as an older brother.
"I know you love him but it's over doll,It's never easy to walk away." Angel Dust did his best to smile at you but it was hard to see you like this but he never once thought that Lucifer would pull a stunt like this.
"I'm pregnant." You whispered, tears sliding down your cheeks. "H-how can."
Swallowing thickly, Angel Dust brushed away a stray tear. " Let him go.It'll be ok.It's gonna hurt for a bit of time.You'll find another and you'll be just fine, so let him go...besides you ain't gotta worry about bein alone....you got me and Husk."
Laughing weakly, you sniffled nodding your head resting your head on his shoulder. "Okay."
Months came in went, you never stepped foot out of your room when Lucifer and Lilith were around until one day, you did not acknowledge the two but you knew Lucifer saw you.
But then you heard it, Angel Dust let it slip that Lilith left again. The demon snorting that it was not much of a surprise. You weren't how to feel, it was strange. You felt like you should feel sorry for him but you didn't, you were happy. Happy because he was now going through the pain you went through.
Hugging your daughter close, you cleared your throat giving Angel Dust a smile. "How about we go for a walk, Edna could use."
Giving you a wink, Angel Dust took the baby from your arms. "Sound's good. Though let Uncle Anthony hold her for a bit...give mama a rest."
Lucifer knew he made a mistake, that he was an idiot for falling it again but now. Now it was worst because he lost you...he lost his child.
Is this how you felt when he abandoned you? Miserable, did you have that empty feeling in your chest. Why did he do it? Why did he do that to you, you never deserved that.
Digging his nails into his palm he watched you and Angel Dust chat with one another, the baby asleep in the demons arms. He knew you two were close, that the man thought of you as a brother.
Lucifer knew he lost you for good and that he had no chance of getting you back.
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elliesmistress · 3 days
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A NEW BEGINNING
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Summary: Ellie always had commitment issues, even you knew this but you never wanted to admit it because she was so good at keeping you around...
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), drug usage (marijuana and alcohol), mentions of cheating, swearing, TOXIC!ELLIE, Ellie has dacryphilla, situationships, lying, addiction problems (alcohol, drugs such as: Weed, reader!), HELLA manipulation and love bombing, v!rginity loss, in later chapters Self harm (reader)
R/N: This series is not for the soft hearted, if you can't handle a bit of toxicity, manipulation, cheating and slight rough sex but reader is fine with it! then don't read this xx ALSO LET ME COOK PLEASE!
Genre: angst, smut, drama, some fluff.
Tag list: @snowy-vee @vqxen @ellslvr @bready101 @bbgbbgbbb @elliesofficeslvt @p4ison1vy @dynsdiary @arson4kids and @we-loveebony
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You and Ellie had broken up around a year ago, because you had "problems"...
First it started with you got high too much, then it was because of self-harm, that you promised you'd stop doing, you knew that was a lie and she knew it it.
----
March 17th 2023
Being with Ellie made you happy, she was happy as well, you both started to get much closer in the relationship, having sleepovers, cuddling and kissing.. you trusted Ellie with your life, yet, you were so innocent- you hadn't had sex and you were in college, Ellie knew you were insecure of this but never made fun of you.
You eventually started to come to lectures stoned and out of it (not in a learning headspace) and this pissed Ellie off , she started to distance herself and not talk as much. First it was her not texting as much, then she started to avoid you during lectures, at parties, with Jay or Dina and it really hurt you, so you decided to sit her down and try to talk it through-
"Ellie, I promise you I'll stop" you were sitting down on your bed nearly in tears "that's- that's what you fucking said last time dude" there's a long pause "what the fucks changed? Absolutely fucking nothing, you're - you can't keep fucking up and expecting people to want to help you." Tearing up in front of Ellie you've never done and you felt embarrassed, she wasn't even comforting you, you knew you were in the wrong but it still hurt deep down-
"I think we need a break" your voice cracked, the hoodie pulled over your fingers and attached to your mouth as you cried. Ellie didn't say anything, she nodded and got up and left- that was one of the hardest nights for you, you loved Ellie so much and it felt like she left without wanting you, it felt like everything you both together was worthless- all the dates, cuddles, kisses, watching movies, etc. they all felt like the meant nothing to Ellie but to you- they meant the world and she just got up and left without a word.
It was 12.03AM, you were laying in bed with two empty wine bottles- you were on call with your best friend Jay, an absolute sobbing mess over Ellie.
"go to bed hon, it's 12am and you honestly sound like you need sleep" your sobbing didn't stop, they got worse by anything- "I really loved her" wiping your tears away , still sniffling and this was definitely the worst you've been in a while.
-
You were woken up by a very happy Sophie, banging on your door on a god awful hour (10am) bringing you coffee, you hadn't told her yet and man was she in for the ride soon.
You groan loudly, walking to the door- you looked like shit, literal shit. Your hair was messy, you looked hungover you definitely felt hungover, opening the door Sophie looks like she's about to shit herself from laughing, she realized you weren't laughing with her so she stopped. "Girl you look like shit" you hum in response "I feel it too" quickly moving to the bathroom to puke, Sophie put the coffees down and held your hair back as you puked. After puking a few times you go and sit down and drink the coffee Sophie brought you.
"lemme get this straight. You and her broke up because 'you got high too often?'" Sophie air quotes "doesn't she sell weed?"
"yeah but like .. I don't know, it was weird man"
"Well, what are you going to do then?" she questions, to which you shrug. "Probably not drink ever again because this... Isn't fun"
"that's what you said last time you got drunk" Sophie says with a smirk. "Get out!" I laugh, shoving her shoulder.
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For weeks you attempted to stay inside of your dorm, trying to avoid Ellie until you got an email from your professor saying if you missed anymore classes you could get kicked out and that you were falling behind badly.
"get up!" Jay, one of your best friends says attempting to get you from your bedsheets. "Nooooo" you yell out, holding onto the sheets. It was obvious you hadn't showered in days- the faint smell of weed in your dorm. "you smell like shit, if you don't get up I'll get Ellie"
"Fuck, okay!" you say, getting up and looking at Jay, she doesn't look happy. I mean, to be fair you didn't leave your dorm for almost two weeks, and only leaving to get food and water that you ordered from uber-eats. "Get dressed, we are going to a party" you groan, flipping your head backwards at almost neck break speed. "And fucking shower!"
You knew there was no getting around this, so you decide to just suck it up, getting into the shower for the first time in a few days was a new experience for you, you never were unhygienic and besides from that one camping trip from when you were like 11, you've showered every day or every second day.
Checking your phone, you stupidly click on Ellies story to see a girl you don't know- they weren't kissing or anything but she was sitting on Ellies lap, obviously you were going to get jealous, how the fuck did she move on so quickly?
"look at you!" Jay says as you leave the bathroom and takes your bedsheets off to put them in the washing machine. "dude" she says as she picks up a vibrator on your bed you forgot about- you wanted to break down, that was the one Ellie had brought you.
You do a sly smile to which she puts it down carefully, as if it had like a fucking disease on it.
"you got to get over her dude, she isn't worth it" Jay says, you sigh and roll your eyes. "Don't give me that shit, I never liked her- but I'm friends with Dina and Jesse and my friendship would've been on the line too"
"you know what I think you should do?"
"what?" You say, staring at her with no interest in what she's saying.
"go outside for a bit, maybe y'know, get some fucking vitamin D from the fucking sun- not in here smoking weed and I'll assume fucking yourself all day" you stare at her in disbelief of what she had just said.
"i have not been!" You retaliate, "then why is it here? If I didn't come by you probably would've kept up this fucked up behaviour, c'mon dude lemme just take you to get a coffee or something"
"what time is the party tonight?" You say, checking your phone. 5.15PM
"9 o'clock, please.. babe, for me, Jesse and Dina, just come. I'll make sure no one annoys you." Jay pleads, moving closer to give you a hug.
"fine..."
-
The party was pretty boring, you sat there with your drink avoiding everyone around you- you never really liked hanging out with anyone besides your friends.
You rarely pay attention at parties, you proved that when you didn't see Ellie sitting next to you.
"sup" she says, making you flinch. "Jesus. Ellie you can't be scaring me like that! Fuck"
She chuckles, "haven't seen you around a lot, you okay?"
"I'm fine Ellie, what do you want?"
"come with me?" She holds out her hand and you take it, she's pushing her way through the crowd and takes you outside, before she can even speak you jump in. "I'm sorry"
She looks at you trying to think of what to say next "it's okay, I should be apologizing for how I... Y'know, treated you, it wasn't okay" you nod at her, trying to clear the tension in the air. "come to mine?" She says, so that's how your night changed from being at a party to sitting on Ellie's couch smoking weed at Joel's place.
Ellie's eyes were blood shot, and you were giggling at her as she tells a funny joke, after a while you snuggle up to her as she massages your scalp "so pretty" she mumbles, pulling some of your hair behind your ear.
You clear your throat as you notice how close Ellie has gotten to you, the tension was too much and you needed to break it- you lift your head up slowly to kiss her, her lips as soft as they always are and she moves her body around so you're straddling her hips.
Her kisses become more eager by the second, that is until Ellie's phone rings.
"hold up" she says, grabbing her phone, luckily it's just Dina.
You stay on her as she looks up at you, biting her lip as you slowly grind on her. She mumbles a small 'fuck' as you speed up trying to ease the feeling between your legs- fuck weed you thought.
"yeah, yeah. She's with me" Ellie says "yeah, I'll call you later" she hangs up the phone quickly, placing her hands on your hips.
"care to unblock me?" She smiles at you and you nod "of course" you grab out your phone and unlock it, going into your Instagram and unblocking her.
Little did you know this was the beginning of something you had never encountered before...
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a/n: I am so fucking sorry it's taken me this long and it's this fucking short but writers block/school is kicking me right in the ass right now and this is the best I could come up with right now- Thank you to @allmyfavoritecolours (one of my bsf) for helping me through shit and my beloved JayJay :)
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 day
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𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇
barrys little sister!reader x rafe, she’s naive, innocent, a bit dumb.
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You sat on the chair in front of your desk, looking into your vanity mirror with focused eyes as you applied your lip gloss.
You pocketed it after, your eyebrows furrowed when you heard a knock on the door. Your brother was still selling, and he had always had specific instructions to not open the door when he’s not home.
You jumped when the person began banging now, shouting Barry’s name. You were torn, not sure whether or not to disobey your brother.
He shouted even louder, making you sigh and stand up. What’s the worst that could happen? You went over to the door, opening it so there was a crack.
“Hello?” You murmured, peeking through the crack of the door.
“Is he here?” The man asked, his voice urgent. You opened the door wider now, shaking your head at him.
His eyes widened when you opened the door. You were dressed in a pink juicy jacket, your lacy bra peeking out under along with miss me jeans, all things you had luckily found at some garage sale nearby.
And Jesus, if you weren’t the most precious thing he’s ever set his eyes on.
He stammered as he mumbled out an apology, beginning to walk away before you said something.
“Wait, sir!” You spoke, remembering how he also would never want to lose a customer, especially not because of you.
“Yeah?” He turned around.
“Are you- a friend of his, or something?”
He paused. “Something like that, yeah…” he said, his hands scratching the back of his neck.
“I’m sure he won’t mind if you stay here, just until he comes back. He’s out with some other guy right now.” You said with a small shrug, a smile on your face.
It’s as if you were a siren, because he didn’t know why, but he found himself drifting closer to you, shutting the door as he followed you inside.
“You want… coffee or something? Water?” You asked him as you went over to the counter, grabbing some chocolate milk from the fridge and pouring it into the cup.
“Uh.. no- no thanks.” He said, his hands on his knees as he sat on the couch.
You sat onto the other one, not noticing his staring while you drunk the chocolate milk.
“Uhm… if you don’t mind me asking, I’ve never seen you here before, and I know he never lets his girls stay-“
“Ew! No, no, no.” You quickly protested before he could finish, almost spitting out your drink. “I’m his sister.” You said with a giggle, his cheeks turned a light pink.
“Shit- ‘f course. I’m sorry.” He said with a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair.
“It’s okay. I live here, but usually I’m just in my room, and he tells me not to come out when people come over.”
“He never.. mentioned he had a sister. And he definitely didn’t mention he had one who was as pretty as you.” He spoke, his attempt at flirting clearly working when he saw your eyes widen and a small smile spreading across your face.
There was the sound of a motorcycle outside, stepping up to the trailer and going to unlock the door when he finds out it’s already open.
Barry furrowed his eyebrows when he opened the door to see you and Rafe fucking Cameron sitting there.
“The fuck is he doing in here? And what did I tell you about leaving this damn door unlocked? What the hell, y/n?” He said, voice booming.
You looked at him. “I’m sorry! He was banging on the door, and I was trying to do my hair. I can’t do that with all that noise!”
Barry sighed, shaking his head before waving his hand.
“Whatever, just- just go back in the fuckin’ room.” He said, making you huff and storm into the room.
“You never mentioned you had a sister.” Rafe spoke.
“I didn’t for a reason, country club.” Barry mumbled out when he noticed Rafe’s staring , already pulling out a bag full of the white powder.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
A few days later, you were walking around the trailer park, simply saying hello and enjoying the nice weather. Rafe came up, presumably going to Barry. But you stopped him.
“Hey, Rafe!” You said with a smile again.
“Hey, sweetheart. He not here again?” He asked, nodding to the trailer..
“No. Out again. I’m so bored. That’s why I’m out here.”
“How long is he gonna be out?”
“I dunno… but he said he’d be a while.” You said with a shrug.
“It’s too late for a girl like yourself to be outside, you know? I think he would want me to bring you back inside.”
You sighed. “He would say the exact same thing.” You told Rafe with a pout, he just chuckled and put a hand on the small of your back, leading you back to your trailer.
“Uh, I should get going, I guess..” he told you, standing in front of the door now. You watched him begin to leave before you spoke again.
“Wait!” You said, stopping him like you did a few days before.
He turned around, eyebrows furrowed.
“Stay and keep me company? I think he wouldn’t want you leaving his little sister all alone.”
A grin making its way onto his face, he nodded. His plan was working.
Rafe and you sat back on the couch now, your legs propped up on the couch as you switched through the cable channels.
Rafe watched your every move with hungry eyes. He knew he needed to have you, and he would.
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makeitastrength · 2 days
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One thing I'm noticing in some of the fandom reactions to this breakup and the aftermath is that the characters have been put on a pedestal and are being judged against some pretty unrealistic standards. They get raked over the coals for every single mistake. I've seen it with both characters but recently I've seen it the most with Tim.
Don't get me wrong, in no way am I condoning his current behavior. He's made multiple mistakes and he's broken Lucy's trust and her heart. He absolutely needs to be held accountable for all of these things and he owes her an apology and that adult conversation and a whole lot more if they're gonna be able to be together again.
But what he's doing right now, his imperfect actions as he navigates this period of his life... it's very human. This is a man who is at rock bottom, and when you're drowning in the weight of your own trauma like he is, you often don't have the strength to see beyond that and understand how your actions are impacting the people around you. He's not being cruel (which, by the way, implies intentionality to one's actions) by breaking up with her or denying her that conversation. He's drowning.
He truly can't see that she's *not* better off without him. He can't see how much he's hurt her, and that he continues to hurt her with his actions. I don't even think he could answer her questions right now about why he did what he did, because he doesn't fully understand it himself. He can't see anything beyond his own lack of self-worth. Right now, expecting him to be able to fully comprehend what he's done and why is completely unrealistic.
Now, does this excuse his behavior? Absolutely not. But it does explain it.
And the thing that's bothering me the most is the posts saying Tim doesn't deserve Lucy's forgiveness. This is a man who has completely fallen apart but is finally taking the first steps toward healing. Shouldn't he be given a chance at redemption before being written off as unforgivable? And shouldn't Lucy be the one to decide whether to forgive him?
Again, I'm not defending his actions. He has a lot of work to do on himself and he has a lot of work to do to gain back Lucy's trust. It's not going to be easy. But to say he doesn't deserve forgiveness without even giving him a chance? That's pretty harsh. He doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his life being defined by his worst moments. No one does.
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via-l0ve · 21 hours
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i saw ur spn works n i looooveeee them :3 if u dont mind.. could u write ab dean, sam, n cas with a reader whos touch averse but also touch starved? very very uncomfortable with touch from other people (to the point of feeling sick or a breakdown) but when it comes to them, reader loves their touch (has a hard time initiating it though) reader will only ever tolerate their touch, it makes them feel so comfortable <3
Touchy (SPN Pref!) 🩷
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a/n: i’m back babies :3 hope you enjoy :)
warnings: nothing! very slight angst because of crying and struggle to explain feelings.
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Dean:
it takes dean a minute to realize how special he is to you
over the years, he had seen you flinch and squirm away from others touches
he’d been there to comfort you after a particularly hard time, consoling you when you break down from the overwhelming touches of other people
so when you guys started dating, naturally he was cautious around you
he loves you more than anything, but his worst fear was upsetting you
at first, he almost never touched you
until one day when you stood next to him, he saw you reaching your hand near his and pulling away, practically shaking
he acts on impulse, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze
after that, he was the only one who was allowed to touch you
and if ANYONE ever stepped beyond your boundaries
dean would bury his fist in their face before their fingers could graze you
Sam:
Sam always tried to understand why you hated the touch of people but yet yearned for it
He always intimidated people if they touched you, threatening them if they chose to not listen to your social cues
He was always there for you
24/7/365 whenever you felt uncomfortable, he wanted you to tell him
which is why, he suspects, when you started going out, he touched you rarely
he’d graze your hand with his or rub food or makeup off of your face
but when you told him through tears how much you loved his touch, he realized
you needed it. you just didn’t know how to say it.
so since then same always has contact with you when he is near you
whether it be an arm around your shoulders, his hand on your thigh, fingers interlocked, anything
he’d never let go
Castiel:
my baby :(
he always was so concerned about your feelings
he never wants anything to upset you
he especially never wanted to upset you
he always asks about your boundaries, why you don’t like people touching you, what he could do to help, etc
the one time that he witnessed you break down, he was the most concerned he had ever been.
heaven couldn’t prepare him for the love he felt for you
When a nasty hunt happened, castiel was scared seeing the blood seep from your clothes
you stumble to the bed, shaking and crying from the pain in your abdomen
cas rests his hands on your stomach, whispering some consoling words and “i’m sorry”’s for touching you
but he was surprised when you didn’t say anything, just grabbing his hand after he had healed you
“are you alright?” he asks, but then realizes
you just want his touch
only his
and Castiel smiles the biggest you’d ever seen and keeps a gentle hand on your stomach.
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yooglefics · 21 hours
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Reveal — Part three: celebrating
Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed.  Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.
Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried.  Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3
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“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.
You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.
“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”
“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.
“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again. 
“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.
“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”
“Well, he asked me.”
“What?”
“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.
“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—
“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”
“He what?”
“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”
“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.
Fuck.
Shit.
That's so much worse.
You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name. 
“Fuck.”
“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”
You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?
“Fuck.” You murmur again.
“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip. 
“I… don't know.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No. Let's finish the movie.”
But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.
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Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.
He believes you. 
And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.
“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.
“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”
“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included. 
But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.
“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.
“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”
“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.
“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?” 
You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.
He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.
“Those are cute,” Hanna says.
“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”
“You didn't have to.”
“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.
“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”
“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.
“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.
And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.
“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat. 
“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.
“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.
“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”
“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.
“The fact that you watch my videos?”
“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?” 
You don't answer. 
“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”
Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.
“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.
“Stay.”
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After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’ss fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He tells you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.
You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.
“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?” 
“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”
“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”
“No. I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because no.”
He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?” 
“Yes.”
“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”
“You did?”
“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”
“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.
“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”
You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.
“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”
“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.
“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”
“Yoongi…”
“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?” 
You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him. 
His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.
In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.
And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.
“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”
“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times. 
That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.
You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?” 
And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.
“You need something?”
“P-please…”
“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.
Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath. 
“Yoongi?” 
“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.
“Touch me, please.”
And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day. 
“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.
And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.
Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.
But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy. 
Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in. 
“O-oh… oh my,”
“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers. 
“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.
“Want more? Is not enough?”
“Need you, please” 
And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want. 
His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.” 
Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.
“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”
He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.
“Please, please, please…” 
And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”
And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.
“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again. 
He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.” 
“You want some help with that?” 
“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”
Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”
Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.
You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly. 
He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.” 
You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.
Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.
Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth. 
“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”
The encouragement helps the filling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm. 
“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat. 
You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea. 
“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.
“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”
But is easier to show than tell, and your finger grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.” 
“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”
A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.
Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”
“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.
And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.
“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.
“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”
“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”
Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then. 
You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”
And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”
“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.
“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”
Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.
“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”
He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.
“You look great too,” you offer, bitting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”
“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.
You nod.
“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”
“Yoongi…”
“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.
“I-I want to see you, please.”
His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.” 
You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.
But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.
But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.
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[     afterhours(y/n):     Thank you for the birthday wishes!     I indeed got a nice present, don't you think?            [ picture ]                                                                          ]
[    SugaD:     Unbelievable 😻     Can we do something for my birthday too?                                                                                                                   ]
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♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,
Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙
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➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse
➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡
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anonymousewrites · 1 day
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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Ten
Kusuo Saiki x Reader
Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa
Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki prepare for their school trip, and it is, of course, chaotic.
            PK Academy was buzzing with excitement for the Okinawa trip. Yumehara and Teruhashi were especially excited because they wanted to spend time with Saiki. That meant they had to join his group. Of course, the obvious answer was to first ask (Y/N) to ask the boys (since they had already roped them into their group), but they were over with Saiki, and neither wanted to embarrass themselves in front of their crush. They tried to ask the other guys, but Teruhashi’s fan club became too exuberant in trying to get her to join them. So, now the girls (plus (Y/N)) were joining boy groups by a lottery system. Teruhashi, of course, was first up. She walked up to the box and rummaged around in it for a second.
            Yare yare. I feel bad that (Y/N) won’t be in my group, but I can’t have them and Yumehara there, too.
            “I choose this one!” declared Teruhashi.
            “Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s group,” announced Hairo.
            “From here on, if you wanna talk to Teruhashi, talk to me first,” said Takahashi proudly as the other boys yelled in outrage.
            (Y/N) sighed. I wanted to be in Saiki’s group…
            Teruhashi and Yumehara felt the same way. They were very disappointed.
            “So Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s, but what about the rest?” asked Hairo. “Shall we decide the rest via raffle as well?”
            The boys just mumbled about not caring. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. A girl from another group finally walked up and picked out another group.
            “Ugh, we got Nendou? Being in Nendou’s group is like, totes the worst!” she spat while her group nodded. “Like, can we pick again? This, like, totes kills the trip for us.”
            “Then our group will switch with theirs!” volunteered Teruhashi angelically.
            “T-Teruhashi?!” stammered Takahashi’s group.
            (Y/N) brightened. They knew Saiki wouldn’t enjoy having Teruhashi and Yumehara with him, but they really wanted to be in his group. They were friends with him and the others in the group, after all.
            “That is, if Nendou and the other two are okay with it,” continued Teruhashi.
            Everyone was amazed at the perfect pretty girl wanting to be in Nendou’s group. However, it didn’t last long as they all thought about how kind and selfless she was for doing it. It made her more perfect to them. The class began to cheer for their goddess.
            Yare yare. The only good thing about this is (Y/N) being in my group. Other than that…I’m just stuck with two more bothers.
            The class seemed to be satisfied with the rest of the results. Then, Hairo got called over by the teacher. When he returned to the room, his face was slightly crestfallen (as much as Hairo could be).
            “Which of you are in Mera’s group?” asked Hairo.
            “Oh, we are,” said (Y/N), raising their hand.
            “It looks like she can no longer go on the trip with us,” said Hairo.
            “Aw, why?” asked (Y/N).
            “Apparently, they couldn’t catch as many bluefin tuna as they wanted,” explained the class rep. “It’s unfortunate, but we can’t do anything about it. So it’s been decided that we’ll do groups of eight instead of groups of seven. Two of the members of Teruhashi’s group have to join another.”
            Instantly, Teruhashi and Yumehara glanced at (Y/N), who was humming pleasantly. They were better friends with the boys, so they were the obvious choice to stay in the group. Other people were also pulling them away.
            Looks like God is on my side.
l
            Saiki sighed in annoyance as he listened to Makoto prattle on and on about the “perverted” things Saiki was “thinking” and how he would be there to stop Saiki from doing anything. It was really quite disturbing how detailed Makoto was getting. Saiki was prepared to just not go, but…he could hear Mera and (Y/N) passing by. Mera was sad about not being able to go, and (Y/N) was disappointed their friend couldn’t come.
            That did it.
            Alright, Teruhashi. You win.
l
            “What shall we do, teacher?” asked Hairo.
            (Y/N) had been bouncing up and down in excitement at the trip, but they were starting to get nervous since it might be canceled now.
            “This isn’t good…” said the teacher.
            Suddenly, the PA system announced, “Due to a typhoon, the flight to Okinawa scheduled for ten o’clock has been temporarily suspended at this time.”
            (Y/N) sighed and slumped in their seat. “What bad luck…”
            “When I was finally able to go,” mourned Mera.
            Saiki sighed as the depressed thoughts of his friends bothers flooded him.
            “Excuse me, if the flight gets canceled, will the school trip be postponed?” asked a student.
            “No, it’ll be canceled,” said Matsusaki.
            “What?!” cried everyone.
            “I want you to go…but it’s out of my hands,” said Matsusaki sadly.
            “Teacher!” cried the students.
            “Don’t give up, guys!” shouted Hairo, clearly trying to delude himself. “It’s not like the flight has been canceled! One, two, sun! Don’t give up! Come on, guys! Cheer with me!”
            (Y/N) just sighed gloomily.
            Yare yare, even their endless sunniness is dampened. I can’t keep watching this. He couldn’t have (Y/N) upset. He liked them happy. Saiki teleported away for a moment before returning, soaking wet.
            “Hey! The flights back on!” chirped (Y/N) happily. “The news says the typhoon suddenly disappeared!” They grinned and then cocked their head. “Saiki? Why are you wet?”
            “Never mind it.” He smiled a tiny bit. “Now, let’s take that school trip.”
            “Yeah!” cheered (Y/N).
            Finally, PK Academy boarded the plane and was off to Okinawa. (Y/N) took out headphones and leaned back in their seat. While Yumehara, Teruhashi, and Mera were talking, they decided to take a nice long nap. They wanted as much energy as possible when they arrived in Okinawa.
l
            “The ocean looks so beautiful!” said (Y/N), looking out the bus window.
            “It’s so green!” said Nendou. “I wonder if someone’s dumpin’ some paint out there. Right, pal, pinky?”
            (Y/N) just grinned and shook their head.
            “Hey, (Y/N)!” called Yumehara. “Look!” She opened her shirt, revealing a bikini top.
            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and they looked away. “Yumehara!”
            “Don’t take your clothes of here!” Teruhashi blushed.
            “It’s just a bathing suit,” explained Yumehara.
            “That makes more sense,” said (Y/N). “Stripping on the bus doesn’t seem your thing. I’m guessing you’re excited about the beach?”
            “Totally!” said Yumehara.
            “Me, too,” said Teruhashi.
            (Y/N) smiled. “I can’t wait to go. I bought a new swimsuit for the occasion.”
            “Oh, are you not wearing a guy’s swimsuit this time?” asked Yumehara.
            “No, I went for a two-piece,” said (Y/N). “I thought I’d have fun.”
            “I got a bikini, too,” remarked Teruhashi.
            “We’ll be like a fashion show!” commented (Y/N), beaming as the bus stopped.
            “Ooh, finally, we’re getting food!” Mera was drooling at the thought.
            She quickly pulled everyone into the building the teachers were escorting them into. They were all sat down in groups around tables and given food.
            “So, this is Okinawa soba, huh? It doesn’t look like soba at all,” said Nendou.
            “Well, one difference is that they don’t use buckwheat flour, so—,” said Yumehara.
            “Whatever it is, it looks good! Let’s chow down!” Nendou began eating.
            “Kuwachii sabira,” said Kaidou in the Okinawan dialect.
            Everyone stared blankly at him.
            “Yep! Maasan! This is ippee maasan,” said Kaidou as he ate.
            “Sure! Maasan!” chirped (Y/N).
            “Don’t start,” said Saiki, giving them a look.
            They laughed sheepishly while Kaidou continued attempting the Okinawan dialect.
            “He’s trying too hard.”
            “Th-Th-That’s amazing, Kaidou,” said Teruhashi, struggling to get the lie out.
            “I can’t remember them at all,” said Yumehara.
            “That’s fine!” said Kaidou. “Even if you don’t get ushinaa guchi, nankura naisa!”
            “He was excited for that phrase,” observed (Y/N).
            Finally, after an excruciatingly incomprehensible narration of the meal by Kaidou, the group finished eating and left the restaurant.
            “We still have some time left. Do you wanna stop by the souvenir shop?” asked Mera.
            “Sure!” (Y/N) nodded. With that, the girls enjoyed the time until dinner with some light shopping.
l
            “Now this is what a school trip’s all about!” cheered three boys at the hot springs. “Peeping!”
            Yare yare. Hearing their thoughts makes me feel gross.
            “Actually, I came once before to check things out,” said one boy.
            “To Okinawa?!” cried Takahashi. “That’s commitment, Murata!”
            “The hotel switches the men’s and women’s baths each day. I have a good grasp of the other side, too,” said Murata.
            “Wow…I can’t even find words…” said the third boy, impressed.
            “But it’ll all be worth it…to get a peek at her!” declared Murata, clearly thinking of Teruhashi. “The best place to peek is under that light.”
            I’ll block their line of sight.
            “What is she’s already gotten out?” asked Takahashi.
            “They might not compare to Teruhashi, but Mera and (L/N) are pretty hot as well,” said the third.
            Saiki stopped his movements. Yare yare. I guess I’ll have to handle this differently.
            As the three used periscopes to try to look over the fence, Saiki twisted the tops around. The boys were met with the horrifying picture of a naked Nendou.
            I don’t understand what the big deal about naked bodies is— Saiki accidentally looked through the fence with his x-ray vision. He could see (Y/N) in the water with their back turned. It was more of them than he had ever seen. Oh, wow. He immediately looked away. He had not expected that reaction to them. Shaking his head, he dispelled the thoughts, but they continued to bob in his head. Yare yare. I’m going down to the beach to get away from all of this.
            If Saiki had known the situation would just get worse, perhaps he wouldn’t have lay down on that beach chair that night.
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nunalastor · 3 days
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Appleradio secret marriage au part 5:
(Let me just thank firebreathingduck for your support with reblogs cause you are most of my motivation to make the next parts!)
Angel dust didn't know what was happening, he was investigating. Having to work with that sonofabitch Valentino made it easy to tell people's intentions and moods – in the same yet different way from Husk. While Husk looked at everything overall except actions (he didn't believe you could tell if a person is kind by how they act), Angel looked at body language, how they carried themselves compared to usual and slight hanges in the pitch of their tone of voice. It was difficult, but he had to do this to survive.
But if there was something that brightened up his dull life – except drugs – it was investigating possible relationships. It was admittedly strange, but he loved being in on the secret, especially so when it was a healthy relationship.
And that was why he made sure to get off work early (don't ask how he did it, he would like not to say), and he made sure not to drink or do anything that might stop him from studying the two. Yes, he already knew something was going on between Alastor and Lucifer. They'd literally stare into eachothers eyes, for gods sake!
So he'd sit in the bar, drinking a non-alcoholic drink and chatting with Husk while he waited for the two main characters to enter the room – they always went to the bar at some point, even when they didn't drink anything at all.
When he would hear their steps, he'd make an excuse to go somewhere else when in actuality he would just hide to listen in. This, obviously, didn't go very well since the spider was the worst for hiding – he was literally made for the spotlight. So all he would get are spats and arguments.
He'd decide on different approaches to this. Husk knew something, so maybe a bribe would work? Maybe Charlie would help, she seemed a bit oblivious to it though (but she was also a good liar, so...). Or maybe he could keep hiding and one day be successfull with it.
And there was one thing he never expected, for them not to even notice him! Lucifer was already too drunk and Alastor was too focused on helping Lucifer to notice him. It really was a stroke of luck, cause he got to see it.
Lucifer was calling him every sweet name in the book, constantly complimenting Alastor on things Angel didn't even know could be complimented – an example, "The way your hands curl around a mug is so satisfying and elegant, I love it." – and multiple other things like that. And even funnier is that Alastor didn't seem to hate it, rather, he just wanted to calm Lucifer down from his random outburst of giggles that would happen unexpectedly.
Angel could even see how Lucifer would caress Alastor, making him freeze in place in a fluster. He also saw the slight clench of Husk's fists, how he would speak through gritted teeth as he watched the two interact.
He also heard a few lust-filled whispers from Lucifer as he'd fondle Alastor's tail with familiarity. It was a fun show, but he knew when to leave so he'd left before seeing anything else.
But since that time, every little thing with Alastor and Lucifer held different meaning to Angel. Their spats, rather than sounding hateful, were more of a fond remark to the other. Lucifer's every glance at Alastor's ears were not because he wanted to rip them off but because he wanted to stroke them, run his fingers through the fluff and listen to Alastor's gasps.
And it was undeniable that Angel also felt the urge to do so, but moreso to just see how soft they were. Especially the tail he glimpsed that one day.
Angel was almost envious of both Lucifer and Alastor.
(Please don't mind mischaracterisations of characters. I haven't really seen a lot of Hazbin Hotel so I don't know how the characters are outside of fanfics and theories! Ideas are appreciated and please comment your own thoughts on this since I love motivation.)
(Clarification with Angel. Angel only would flirt with Alastor to see Lucifer's reactions. In his eyes, the jealousy of Lucifer outweighs the chance of being flattened by the deer. Angel and Husk are only close friends but if you want you can choose for them to be in a relationship. Angel is somewhere on the asexual spectrum (yes, ace people can have sex) and doesn't really broadcast the fact that he is ace for everyone to know. That is why Lucifer feels threatened by Angel, because he believes Angel actually has sexual interest in Alastor and knows that Angel can be enticing. Angel hopes that their relationship stays strong, and it will.)
👀
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munariplans · 5 hours
Text
forty, love | natasha romanoff
Tumblr media
synopsis: winning was everything, and losing was a sin. unfortunately, you were on a losing streak, and natasha loved winning.
natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader
word count: 4.9k words
a/n: inspired by that one scene from challengers.
masterlist
“slice forehand.”
thwock. 
“inside-out forehand.”
another thwock.
“move to the volley. hurry. your feet aren’t keeping up.”
despite the insult, the thwock lands. the ball bounces and hits right where you want it to hit. the singular drop of sweat that dripped onto the ground between your feet is not wasted, as you look up to your performance coach across the net, unamused sneer hidden behind his thick moustache. 
“not fast enough?” you quipped. 
he sighed, shaking his head. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re still number 2 in the state. if you want a shot at beating the princeton team, you’re still going to have to move much faster than that.”
you wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead, fixing the slightly loose hair tie, before nodding understandingly. still, you weren’t too happy at his latest onslaught of insults this past session. “you could have at least given me credit for the dropshot earlier when you came in. it was perfect.”
“perfect shots don’t get you the win. defeating your opponent does.”
he signalled that practice was over for the day, and you walked off court at the same time as he did to gather your things. the woman watching from the stands stood at that moment, and began her descent down to meet you in the locker room. 
natasha romanoff walked up behind you as you changed, the sudden feeling of her hands on your bare skin a welcomed intrusion, as you sighed into her touch. she let herself have her hands full for a minute, roaming over your muscles until she was satisfied, before settling them on the edge of your shoulders, massaging the tight knots out of them. you were still so tense.
she pressed her lips lovingly on a scar, waiting for you to finish panting at the feeling of where her hands had been. “you were great out there today.”
“coach said otherwise.”
“mm,” she let you put on your shirt, turning you around to kiss you after, “you were fighting him back just as hard. are you okay?”
you zipped up your bag then, taking a moment to avoid her question, before, “do you think i’m like what he says? what they all say…?”
natasha motioned for you to continue. “that i’m all bark, no bite, now? that i’ve lost my mojo?”
“baby–”
“–because you can tell me straight up. i can take it. you’re my girlfriend, you can tell me, i can take it.” the room had suddenly gotten tense, a stark drop to your composure that you had managed to hide so well on the court. in the locker rooms, you were angry again. you had been angry for a while now. 
“losing a few matches isn’t going to hurt your record, baby. you’re this college’s star player, you know this.”
“but losing four matches in a row is going to shatter my ego. my confidence. you of all people should know this!”
you had backed away from natasha, eyebrows raised, posture standoffish. she hated this. she hated seeing you like this. as bad as it was to say, she hated seeing you lose. it was the worst part of yourself that you let her see, when you lost. but what was she, as a partner, if not to stand by you through your career, your ups and down? she should be sharing your pain, taking some burden off of your shoulders, at the very least. 
“just last week, i let it go to break point, and i still fucking lost!” you had raised your fist at this point, nearly punching it at the steel frames of the lockers, when you reminded yourself of just the complications that could arise from shattered knuckles. your coach would never let this go. but still, the gesture was there, and the fire in your eyes remained all too dangerous. 
suddenly, you were pressed against the lockers, the weight of natasha’s body engulfing yours, as her arms came to hold you tight against herself. you were forced to embrace her back, despite your slight protests and pleas, but she was having none of it. she had wrapped you up in her tight, strong embrace, and her hands were finding themselves to bring your face towards hers, eyes boring into your own. 
“nat–”
“–last week, last week, you were against a professional, baby. a nearly retired one at that, but she was fighting for wins at the australian open not too long ago. she’s been doing this longer than you have even started learning how to hit the ball. don’t be so hard on yourself, will you? nobody, nobody else, could have gotten to where you were with her. break point is a feat in itself.”
you didn’t look convinced. but she didn’t need you to look convinced; she needed you to listen. “do you understand? you need to look at things from a different perspective, from my perspective. not your coach’s, not your teammates, certainly not that player’s fucking groupies, who were gloating about your loss all the way out of the stadium. you need to believe in yourself, as i have always believed in you. and you can’t keep going on like this. do you understand me?”
natasha’s eyes never departed from yours, her gaze firm. her hands were shaking, a little unsure of your reaction, because as far as she knew, you didn’t look like you were going to back down from a fight. either with yourself or her, she didn’t know. she certainly hoped it was at least the latter.
but then, your gaze cast downwards, you nodded ashamedly. sighing into the air, you pressed your face into the crook of her neck for a moment, the height advantage letting you lift her up, and she cooed as she let you gather yourself. 
“i understand.”
she patted the back of your head. like a mother would a petulant, but repenting child. “good. now let’s go get dinner, then a massage for your shoulders. then back to the gym first thing tomorrow morning.”
– 
natasha watched you push around your vegetables for nearly half of dinner. she knew the campus meal tickets didn’t exactly provide for five-star dishes, but she had never seen you so down like this before. it was almost as if you had become a ghost of yourself. 
“steve’s birthday is coming up soon.” she decided to change the topic, and hopefully, get your mind off of tennis for a minute. 
you gave a nonchalant grunt, finally stabbing the piece of broccoli. she steadied herself. “should we get him the pair of boots he’s always wanted? i figured we could pull in wanda and clint too, if we want to get him a bigger gift.”
your eyes were still unfocused. it was as if she wasn’t there at all. “baby.”
you looked up, half-expecting natasha to be pissed. but she only gave you a small smile. “steve’s birthday?”
“we can get him the boots. i don’t mind paying for them. but i don’t think i’m going to his party.”
“why not? your match on that day ends in the afternoon.”
“yeah, but i think i’m going to be pretty tired.” not to mention if i lose.
natasha decided not to argue with you on it. she knew enough how touchy the subject of your career already was. instead, she jabbed the last piece of corn with her fork, and gestured for your mouth to open. 
the both of you left shortly after. 
– 
in a friendly match the next weekend with the neighbouring college, you were faced up against the top ranking player once more. being a finals round, you had imagined that the crowd would be roaring with applause for how far you’d come, but when the sets began to balance after your first few strong starts and the heat of the afternoon sun began beating on everyone’s backs, the crowd dwindled out one by one from boredom and, to you at least, the possible disappointment of you losing. 
it was only expected, from a disenchanted champion. the college’s once pride and joy, the one who was once regarded as a candidate with potential to win grand slams. unfortunately, people only really like you when you win. 
but natasha stayed. and so did her friends, and your friends that she had managed to force to stay. you had gestured that they could leave if they wanted to, during the breaks, but they were afraid to even nod, or make a move, lest they wanted to be subjected to natasha’s ferocity, sitting behind them. it was almost humiliating that they stayed only because your girlfriend was forcing them to, you thought. 
thwock. a missed shot from your end.
another thwock. “out!”
by your last mistake, the crowd had only left natasha, steve, and some die-hard groupies of yours that were slowly losing hope too. so when the final set was determined by your failure to execute a passing shot, and subsequently touching the net, the roars from the other side seemed almost mocking. you had lost. 
natasha rushed down to the locker rooms again, only this time, your friends followed, and the absolute mortification that you felt, along with the pure anger and frustration of losing, overpowered any remaining sense of decency you had left. 
the moment you spotted her coming in, then the company behind her, you almost felt like the first time the instinct to shatter your racket came to you. 
“out! all of you, out!” you had screamed, not caring to be decent even to your teammates. 
“come on, we just wanted–”
“–i don’t care, out! you’ve just come in here to humiliate me, haven’t you? gloating how i could lose, even in a friendly! how shit of a player i am, now!”
the people behind natasha grumbled, but one by one shuffled out. it was better to tell you about how unfair you were being another day, not when emotions were running so high. natasha was thankful they understood. but it didn’t make what you did any less unfair.
she sat beside you as you kept your head down. “that wasn’t very nice.”
“losing isn’t very nice.”
“they meant well, baby.”
“no, they don’t.”
“how many times do i have–”
“–a ton, okay, natasha?” you looked up, slamming your drink between the both of you. “a ton of times, you have to remind me. that my friends love me, that they’re here to support me. but how the fuck am i supposed to believe that when i don’t even have anything for them to support me for?”
“your friends don’t just love you because you’re good at tennis, my love. i don’t love you just because you’re good at tennis. this is ridiculous! i can’t believe we are arguing over this, i can’t believe you think of yourself so lowly like this.”
natasha was met with a deafening silence the moment she finished her last words, her chest heaving up and down from her own disappointment. the rest of the players had filtered out, upon hearing your argument, leaving only you and her there. like always. 
your hand rubbed over your face resignedly, hands covering the beautiful eyes natasha loved loves staring into. she wanted to reach out, to pull your hands away from yourself, to even get you to answer her, to let her know that you at least believed you were better than this. but she was afraid of the answer she was going to get. 
then, she heard a sniffle, and a small, choked sob afterwards. and that was it. 
you were up standing the next second, and slinging your racket bag over your shoulder. “i’m going to the gym. i know you have class after this. don’t wait up.”
she was left there alone, the dismay and disappointment of it all weighing down on her, the moment the doors to the locker room were slammed. 
– 
i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that, i apologised to my friends, now i want to apologise to you. i love you, i’m sorry. the words didn’t seem enough. the guilt that accumulated and eventually avalanched into your heart was almost insurmountable, after the incident with  natasha. you weren’t even sure you were worthy of being forgiven, you thought as you sat in your car later that night, still angry at her, but making sure that she was safe in the short walk home from her class to her dorm. 
which was why you found yourself in the florist off campus a few days later, asking the employee what flowers best represented i’m sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend, and which flowers were most likely going to help you be forgiven. the white and blue carnations reminded you of the colours in natasha’s room. 
“how much is it?” you asked, to which the cashier then showed you the till. you cursed internally, not even knowing flowers were so expensive nowadays.
checking the contents of your wallet for a minute, you cursed even louder at yourself at the emptiness that greeted you. losing matches meant losing money, that was for sure, and it wasn’t a secret that you were mostly funding your life with prize money won from big matches in the state, with college at least funded with the athlete’s scholarship. yet another reason why i can’t keep doing this, you thought.
it was between dinner for the next few days and gas for your car, and the flowers. fuck it, skipping dinners once in a while wouldn’t hurt, and you could walk from place to place. 
you handed over your card, and began the walk to natasha’s dorm. 
when she received you, natasha noticed you looked almost like a kicked puppy, none of the anger or smugness you carried with you on and off the court. no, with her, you were soft, and vulnerable, and all-too pitiful for her love. she knows the power she has over you. she never had to worry. 
so she brought you in, allowed you to apologise, to beg at her feet, and for her mercy and forgiveness. she allowed you to worship her, taking her to her bed and whispering how much you messed up to her skin, how much you loved her when you were making her see stars, how much you thought you would hurt yourself if she ever left you when she was chanting your name over and over again, begging you to let her come undone.
– 
steve’s birthday rolled around, and natasha was once again seated in the front row for you. she never missed your matches. 
you thought she should have missed this one, when the match reached a break point and you lost again. when you had gotten so frustrated, so furious, over a careless choke that you had, that you received a punishment for smashing your racket into bits as the opponent screamed in celebration. 
she came down to sit with you in the locker room after, but it was in silence. there was nothing to say, and nothing to be said. there were tears streaming down your face, dripping onto the floor. your vision was obscured by the tears, and you would have lost yourself if not for the hand that was holding your own, firm, steadfast. somewhere along the line, she was kissing you, then slowly pushing for you to get up, and bringing you to her dorm. you didn’t really remember anything more after that, busy curling into a ball and crying yourself to sleep afterwards.
when she woke you again to accompany her to steve’s party, you felt almost bad that the ringing in your ears hadn’t gone away, and so had your misery from the match earlier. but natasha needed a ride, and you weren’t going to let her drive back later if she had been drinking for the night. 
– 
you encouraged natasha to mingle around at the party, and to not worry about you, as you stuck around your few friends for a bit. she was unsure, but you were firm, and soon enough, she too had disappeared into the crowd.
your eyes never left her after you found her again, though, leaning back into a pillar as your friend sam went on and on about his own matches so far. you didn’t have the heart, or energy, to tell him that tennis was the last thing you wanted to talk about right then. 
she was by the birthday boy, his arm slung around her waist as the both of them guzzled down cups and cups of spiked punch. their circle was closely-knit, you had always known this, but somehow, the lingering touches, and his hand slowly travelling up and down her back, was ticking you off this time. you had almost half a mind to ask steve what he thought he was doing, but you knew natasha would get embarrassed, and upset. you knew you already made her upset enough today. 
but then, sam quipped, “they’ve been awfully close lately, haven’t they?”
he must have forgotten he was talking to natasha’s girlfriend, of all people, as he continued, “steve’s on a winning streak recently. on track to become valedictorian, potentially getting drafted by the top teams next season, it’s only a matter of time before he wants someone by his side to share it with too, huh?”
“...right.”
“you know how natasha likes winners,” he hit your elbow playfully, breath reeking of alcohol and other illegal substances, “she just loves the game. i bet that’s how you got her to fall for you too.”
“not my good looks, or horrible attitude to anything outside of tennis?” you tore your eyes away from natasha for a moment to glare at sam. he chuckled. 
“i’m just saying, better to keep your girl by your side, future federer.” he disappeared shortly after, and when you found natasha again, she was laughing and putting her head on steve’s shoulder. 
instead of feeling angry this time, you were dejected, and a little bit ashamed. of course. natasha liked winners. and you certainly weren’t one anymore. 
you bit back a harsh breath, and went outside to get some fresh air when steve stole a glance at her that was far too intimate to be one of merely friends. you should have known. if she wasn’t winning with you, she was winning with someone else, somewhere else. 
that night, for the first time in your career, and relationship, you thought about retiring.
– 
but when the competition season rolled around, and the WTAs approaching, you had managed to pull yourself up in the rankings enough to secure a spot at a challengers’ round to hopefully beat princeton and start a domino effect that could lead you to participating in a grand slam. 
natasha was walking beside you, struggling to keep up as she checked your schedule haphazardly. “the princeton girl, she’s on the other side of the roster. i doubt the two of you would be playing each other unless she reaches the finals too. which…at this point…”
you didn’t want to know if she meant that you wouldn’t stand a chance of reaching the finals, or that the princeton champion would be knocked out early. you were afraid you knew the answer. 
steve had dropped her off at the stadium when you went outside to pick her up, his smug smile as he waved her goodbye, and his eyes following yours, making you want to reach over inside the car and beating him with your racket. you had to arrive earlier to discuss strategy with your coaches, and while you were more than willing to pay for natasha’s ride in, she had mentioned that steve would be dropping her off. she sounded almost excited, so you dropped the topic and went back to your practice. like you have been doing for the past few months. 
turns out it wasn’t so hard to succeed, and win matches, when you were more or less resigned to your fate that nobody was ever going to expect anything more of you from your streak of losses all those matches ago, and you had effectively lost the love of your life to some football player who kept winning, and winning. 
you were at a challenger’s round this time, so you didn't need to worry. you won, and won, and won a little bit more. 
thwock. right over the net. the opponent misses and falls to her knees.
a serve that would have made williams roar in awe. thwock.
last one. the set was done if you landed this one. thwock. 
the ball landed inside the court, right by the opponent’s feet. and you advanced to the finals. 
you remembered natasha rushing down, not even waiting until you entered the locker room. she was running, running, and jumping into your arms, kissing you like her life depended on it. you spun her around, giving her a smug smile, trying to hide a bleeding heart that knew she too, was surprised that you ever stood a chance of winning. 
the crowd roared behind you. people were liking you again. but you had never felt worse. 
it turned out that the princeton champion had advanced to the finals, and would be playing against you, after all. there was no surprise for her, but certainly a surprise for you, as the newscasters and fans had aptly put, a grand shocker. they had all thought you had seen your glory days over. 
natasha caught you watching the latest telecast from the hotel’s television, gaze zeroed in on the anchor who was comparing your statistics over the last few games. almost perfect scores. leaving opponents with loves in sets. behind her, were the students of your college, decked out in the colour of the university and your face and initials printed on their shirts, caps, flags. all of it. they had never looked more proud. the college had even rolled out a banner in your name, in lieu of the upcoming finals. you knew natasha enjoyed all of it more than you did. 
when it came to the broadcast from princeton, the college’s president had come to give a special interview. he mentioned that he never doubted his champion from the start, unlike what your college had to go through with you. you found yourself wanting to spit at the television. 
but from behind, the sound of running water from the shower had stopped, and she had come out, in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. she saw the glazed look in your eyes, and promptly picked up the remote to shut the programme off. 
she settled into the spot beside you, nuzzling into your comfort. she had to pull your own arms off of the couch to wrap around her. you thought she must have known. she couldn’t be so stupid. she knew that you knew about her, and what she had always liked. 
but then you remembered, beyond the resentment, and grief, of the past few months, of just what she had been through with you. when you lost your very first match in college, natasha had been your friend, still. she was dating the captain of the basketball team, you remembered, but she had gone with you afterwards to walk the long way home, encouraging you and telling you that it would get better. it always would. you only half-believed her.
but then, you won. and won, and won, and won. by the tenth streak of winning, natasha had broken up with said boyfriend, and began hanging around your dorm, the tennis courts, even the cafeterias more often. she went where you went, showed up to most of your games, was the loudest one in the crowd when you secured sets. she would wait for you after your mini celebratory sessions with your teammates, and fans, and friends, all for a moment alone with you. then, she would bring you out for drinks, for dinners, sometimes the occasional walk down memory lane to her dorm. she was kind, she made you laugh, and you were on a streak. so what was there stopping you? 
you fell for her just as easily as you fell in love with winning.
to your surprise, she stuck around when you lost a few matches along the way, never letting it phase her, or you. to everyone else’s surprise, she stuck around when you twisted your ankle in your second year of playing. she had left a pattern in her wake, you see, of leaving all of her past lovers when the going got tough, or when they had simply stopped winning. it was inevitable, you thought. but no, not this time. when you fell to your knees during that tournament, screaming in agony as your ankle felt like it was folding in on itself, she was there. she was right beside the medical officer, holding you up as he inspected the injury, face looking even more panicked than yours as they wheeled you off to the hospital. 
she was there, as they wheeled you in for surgery, and wheeled you out to recover. she never left, even when the doctors told you it would take months to recover, let alone get back to playing on your level. she helped you recover, was the driving force in your physical therapy success, even became the sole reason that you returned to playing so quickly after your injury. you hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, much less lose her at all. you were too afraid of the possibility of her becoming someone else’s because of your failure in your sport.
natasha stayed through your losing streak. she never got mad, or lost her patience, with you. it had been three years now, with her. she had never lasted in a relationship so long, so had you. she had talked about getting married before, right after college, to which you had entertained, but still never gotten the full grasp of. how could she talk about marrying you, with such a reputation that preceded her? what if you had lost, would she have run off before the altar?
what if you lost tomorrow? you looked at her again, this time, and she was on her phone. she was texting your friends to make sure they came for your match tomorrow. you felt horrible.
“nat.”
she looked up. “yes?”
“tell me it doesn’t matter.” 
natasha sat up this time, her hand holding yours. she looked confused. “what doesn’t matter?” “whether i win or lose tomorrow.”
her face remained unchanged for a moment, but at the quiver of your lip, and the coldness in your hands, she broke her composure. she shook her head slowly, gaze steely. “no.”
“why not?” it was your turn to harden the look on your face. “why won’t you tell me at least that?”
“because,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “you’re the professional. you’ll tell me whether it matters or not.”
you sat up as well. “i just want to know that you’ll love me…no matter what…whether i win or lose tomorrow.”
natasha’s eyes suddenly couldn’t meet yours. she looked down, at your shirt, then away, but never back at you. you pleaded, “natasha, please.”
“no,” she remained firm, “no. i won’t tell you that, because i know you’ll beat her. you’ll win tomorrow. and you’ll go to the grand slams, you’ll be the best tennis player that’s ever played in them, and you’re going to win. every. single. one. of. them.”
“and what if i don’t? not even the grand slams, not even tomorrow? what if i come in second again, after all this time?” 
you were growing desperate, and she was growing distant. you suddenly thought that you would have done anything, absolutely anything then, for her to tell you what you wanted to hear. to tell you that she would love you no matter if you won or lost.
natasha watched as you dropped to your knees in front of her, eyes already teary. your hands scrambled to hold her shirt, her waist, any part of her. she held them back, but to stop you from reaching further. then, she held your face again, but this time, it was you that was begging for her. you looked downright pitiful.
she wiped the stray tear off your cheek. she knew what she was going to say would either make or destroy you. “i’ll tell you this instead.”
“please.”
“baby, if you lose the match tomorrow, i’m leaving you. for good.”
– 
thwock. thwock. thwock. 
princeton parried, the ball is sent to the line. you return it with ease. princeton flicks back, you work twice as hard to send it over.
your moves were clean, cleaner than ever before, aided by a brain filled with rage and a heart filled with fear. 
princeton served, out. you served, in. the advantage stood, and the crowd stood to cheer. princeton hit back, you hit harder. it was a game both colleges hadn’t seen in decades. there were talks of both of you dominating the grand slams, even possibly working together, even being the next best duo to ever hit the sport. 
break point. the ball whizzes. and finally…after all the pain, the fear, the lost matches and the weight of the world on your shoulders, it was over. 
you weren’t quick enough. princeton won. 
a/n: i just love pathetic, pitiful characters who are down so bad for natasha romanoff, is that so wrong?
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