aceyalonso · 1 day ago
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sera's tracks - 1k celebration
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AHHHHHH 1K!!!! thank you so much, i honestly can't believe that I've reached a milestone like this because this blog started out as a joke (I wanted to see how long it would take my friends to find my blog), but here we are 🥹 I am so grateful for every single one of you 💗
similar to my 500 followers event (i swear i'll actually do this one!!), I'll give a list of songs and you guys can request.
These songs are some of my personal faves so there will be a good mix of genres for requests! there's a total of 10 songs + lyrics that you can use as a guide for what the fic/story will be (2 are songs I already have planned, the rest are up for grabs)
a/n: to my wonderful moots who i absolutely love and feel like i’ve known my entire life, @nepobbylver @iamred-iamyellow @cleopatrick-123 @emchante, i just want to say i love you guys!!!! mwah mwah mwah (I love my other moots too I swear, I just haven't had the opportunity to interact with them 😖)
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how can i request?  send an ask, pairing a driver with the available songs!
↳ example: “hi! can i request [driver] + [song]? also can it be [choose from smut, angst, fluff, or a combination of any of the 2]?”
can i be added to the taglist? of course, just fill out the form below :)
↳ click me!
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guide!
smut - [s] fluff - [f] angst -[a]
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fics i have planned!
piano man - billy joel [f] - charles leclerc x fem!reader
butterflies - denise julia [f, s] - lando norris x fem!reader
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open for requests!
guilty as sin? - taylor swift
i keep recalling things we never did, messy top lip kiss, how i long for our trysts
these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head
without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?
be with you - the ridleys
someday i’ll make a home with you, it may be big, it may be small
but if the dreams don’t happen right away, that’s okay, i just wanna be with you every single day, for the rest of our lives
I'm gonna work on my temper, while you learn to speak your mind some more, i'll be more of a shelter and less of a storm
best friends brother - victorious cast, victoria justice
i don’t know what i’m thinking, but is it wrong if i see him this weekend?
i kinda think that i might be his type, 'cause when you're not around, he's not acting too shy
i really hope i can get him alone, i just don’t want her to know
bags - clairo
can you see me usin’ everythin’ to hold back?
i’m not the type to run, i know that we’re havin’ fun, but what’s the rush? kiss and then my cheeks are so flushed
can you see me? i’m waitin’ for the right time, i can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine
mad - ne-yo
so both of us are mad for nothing, fighting for nothing
but baby, can we make up now? cause i can’t sleep through the pain
we can fuss, we can fight, long as everything’s all right between us before we go to sleep, baby we’re gonna be happy
superman - taylor swift
he’s got his mother’s eyes, his father’s ambition. i wonder if he know how much that i miss him
i watch superman fly away, you got a busy day today, go save the world, i’ll be around
something in his deep brown eyes has me saying “he’s not all bad like his reputation”
if ever you’re in my arms again - peabo bryson
now, i’m seeing clearly how i still need you near me, i still love you so
the best of romances, deserve second chances, i'll get to you some, 'cause i promise now, if ever you're in my arms again, this time i'll you much better
it all came so easy, the lovin' you gave me, the feelings we shared, and I can still remember how your touch was so tender
guy.exe - superfruit
where all the boys at with financial security? a doctor, a model, a man of possibilities
oh, he’d pick me up at eight, and not a minute late, ‘cause i don’t like to wait, no
i need a man who don’t get jealous ‘less i want him to, a gentleman to take care of me in the bedroom
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evergreen292 · 5 hours ago
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Hmm, maybe I should elaborate on why I am so furious with the 600 strike and therefore totally disappointed in Epic the Musical.
Okay, there’s no problem with the help from the souls of the crew; let’s collectively forget that they should hate him because he was the reason for their deaths, and that they shouldn’t even be there since they died not near Ithaca, and Hades wasn’t likely giving them a day off from the underworld.
No problem with the wind bag, so conveniently delivered by the trident; okay, just a really wild coincidence.
But here the problems start:
1. Since when does a totally uncontrollable and turbulent storm act like a controllable jetpack?
2. Since when is Odysseus totally capable of not only using this jetbag with ease from the very start but also using it in a damn battle? Is that believable in the slightest?
3. Since this is Poseidon’s storm and Poseidon is fully capable of controlling it (as we see at the end), why didn’t he just turn the storm off a little bit earlier to get rid of Odysseus without any problem? Because the author says so? That’s just silly.
4. Why doesn’t Poseidon fight back but mostly just float helplessly? Yes, he is supposed to be a worse fighter at close range, but not helpless at close range! Why didn’t he even use his own sea for attack or defense? It’s his domain, after all! I saw an opinion that he was shocked because he felt pain for the first time in his divine life… but that’s just not true. He was eaten by his own father and spent his childhood in his stomach, where there was surely enough pain. Also, gods fought their own wars with titans and giants, so he must have experienced enough pain in battle. He even fought in disguise alongside mortals in the Trojan War. So it can’t be the reason. What is the reason? Masochism? Or does the author simply understand that there’s no way for Odysseus to win if Poseidon fights back or at least protects himself with water?
5. Why does Poseidon just let his trident lie on the ground for Odysseus to pick it up slowly? Poseidon was already pretty well beaten by this mortal, so I just don’t believe he didn’t consider Odysseus a threat at that moment. So… just why? Another author’s decision for the sake of a desirable (but totally illogical) Odysseus victory?
6. Why does Poseidon let himself be stabbed repeatedly by his own trident and not even try to take it back, run, or use water to evade? Is he really this masochistic? Another “because the author wants it so”? And we can see that Poseidon bears serious pain well enough, by the way.
7. Poseidon calling Odysseus a "monster" as an accusation is just hilarious because with all his ruthless philosophy, it should rather be a praise! So we have a clearly out-of-character Poseidon here. Also, I think he would rather die (being immortal, yes) than ask a mortal (!) for mercy! And all the “how would you sleep at night” is just so out of character for Poseidon from all the gods! He is ruthless himself, so… is he sleeping poorly at night all these thousands of years? Really? Does he genuinely consider his ruthless deeds something to regret? Do we have a straight PJO Poseidon here instead of our old epic one?! This line seems just forced for the sake of a “badass” Odysseus's response.
So we already have too many illogical moments that the author uses to get a desirable but totally unbeliveable result. But what about mythological accuracy? In Greek mythology, we have no examples of a god being literally defeated (not tricked or captured) by a mere human. Only wounded—twice—in the Iliad, but in the first case, it was Aphrodite, who is specifically described as weak in wartime. And in the second case with Ares, Athena was there invisibly, literally guiding Diomedes's spear to the weak spot with her own hand. So we can’t even say that it’s mythologically possible for a mere human to defeat a god, especially one whose power is comparable to Zeus.
So… now you can see why I am totally disappointed with the 600 strike.
Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
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cursedvibes · 11 months ago
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I hope Tengen breaks free and kills everyone, Kenjaku and Sukuna included
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abelllia · 1 year ago
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Re-reading the MAG 160 transcript and I want to bite Elias’ head off so bad
#grrr the way he says OUR victory and the world WE have made makes me want to strangle him so bad#he fuckin scientifically engineered the statement to be as painful as possible on jon#this is based on how i interpret the scene so keep that in mind#because he’s really sharing the blame with jon as much as possible here#really drilling it into his head that while yes elias was the guy behind the scheme JON was the one to carry it out#and made multiple CHOICES (though w/o knowing the full picture) to carry it out#Jon has a guilt complex the size of a fucking train#it’s possible that he would already have had similar thoughts even w/o Elias saying them out loud#but the fact that he DOES say them out loud I think would really cement it into Jon’s mind#now that it’s been spoken and jon has FELT it in his bones there’s no chance he WOULDN’T ponder over it#as if he even WANTED to do at all#it makes me so mad like SKELSVDNJFLSKNDVF#JONAH SHUT YOUR TRAP HE NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS#and then a clip from an earlier episode plays in my brain of ‘no you didn’t want any of this but you chose this’#like UGHHHU#he made this statement to be as painful as possible is my stance#he made sure to hit a lot of points that he KNEW would hurt#hits on the web/mr. spider’s mark implying jon was set for doom at the start#strengthens that it was Jon’s choice to be a monster#that he’s the one who caused all the misfortunes that surround him#and then rubs it in THAT HE COULD HAVE BEEN FREE FROM ALL THIS IF JONAH (and the Web) HADN’T SPECIFICALLY CHOSEN *HIM*#it was not destiny but SHEER FUCKING ROTTEN LUCK#AGHHHHH#anyway *cough*#tma#MAG 160#abellrambles
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yumeboshi · 6 months ago
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𝜗𝜚。.. ❛ #HER NEW BOYFRIEND’S NEXT!
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𐙚 synopsis。.short hcs/scenarios of jealous yandere aventurine & sunday ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
.。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive themes . general yandere themes, brainwashing, gaslighting in Sunday’s part, mentions of violence, mentions of scide, imprisonment, except for aventurine relationships are not established, WARNING: extremely obsessed and smitten with you, read at risk!
.。𝜗𝜚 a/n。honestly why do i think sunday will be literally the most dangerous yandere you could ask for。man has all the resources to brainwash you and lock you up pls
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#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY.。
。… a classic yandere obsessed over control. 。literally, he will be such a control freak. he has eyes all over penacony. he would have already kept track of what kind of soulglad you drink, when you get home, what your sleep habit is, all under the span of a week, and that’s before meeting you. obviously, as your future spouse, he is just obtaining information he needs for the future! 。will treat you surprisingly equally to his other guests when you meet, he doesn’t want gossip to get around, and he wants to make this “process” as natural as possible. 。after you are successfully within his area of control, he will start to monitor you even more meticulously- who you meet, what you do in your dreams.. he is a bit disappointed you don’t visit him on your own accord, but that will all be arranged soon! 。will casually go up to your room to ask you about “room service satisfaction” when he’s actually just busy breathing in your lovely scent and assessing your room for any “threat.” 。he doesn’t like that you’re affecting his ability to work. he’s impatient, of course, but he knows that he will have to wait for the perfect opportunity to whisk you away like a knight in shining armor. And all he needs is a little pawn to play the act of a villain- oh, your little male acquaintance will do! 。he’s like that- using people around you as puppets to his grand stage. Sunday is well-informed about morals, of course. But he won’t feel much guilt, not when he knows this is all for the ‘greater good.’ “They” will approve of it. 。and so, he starts to crack his charming facade- he will start asking you for private meetings, and he will put you in a vip room so you are isolated. He does this under the mask of ‘danger,’ saying that you have faced too many threats and he needs to ensure his guest’s safety. 。If you call your friends for help? The next day, they are mysteriously gone from penacony. You call them but your phone is out of service. 。but if you are still not charmed over his chivalry.. he’ll have to settle for easier methods.
❝ WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”
Your demand was choked with such pleasant sobs that SUNDAY couldn’t help but slip out a small victorious smirk that quickly masks itself to a concerned facade when you fix your angry watery eyes at him.
“I know it was you,” you continue, pacing around his office while he remains nonchalantly seated, trailing his eyes to your every step. “You made all my friends vanish from penacony, you had my parents escorted away to aeons know where, you stowed me here like I’m some kind of precious little jewelry for your eyes only. What do you want from me?” The evident snarl in your words merely makes Sunday tip his head a little, staring at you with the same serene look that frustrated you.
“Oh, sweetheart, you got it all wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment and rose up from his seat, taking silent strides to you at an alarming speed that made you stumble backwards to the door. “‘They’ have done nothing for you during your stay in the Reverie. You are always disappointed with them, but you choose not to speak up. It is such a painful sight, you are just like a bird who lost its voice.” His voice is surprisingly gentle, dangerously neutral, which scares you, and makes you doubt yourself.
Maybe you were just being stupid, Sunday was acting like it wasn’t a big deal. And your friends indeed did not do much for you here, unlike Sunday, who provided you with all this luxury without accepting anything in return. You feel safe here, almost. You blink a little- the heat that had pounded through your ears was gone, and now you feel like a harmless puppy that just barked his best at a wolf.
“It‘s natural to be mad, dear.” His hand delicately entangles itself into your locks, and you stare at him, unable to say anything as he soothingly whispers. “It is hard to understand actions for the greater good. relax, sweetheart. Everything will be better now,” he purrs, staring right into your eyes. They are endless depths of azure. They are very, very mesmerizing, you think.
“Everything will be better now,” you realize, and you sigh into his arms that seemed to suddenly be present around you. But the worry disperses, you are fine with being close with him. His embrace is welcoming and soft. You don’t want to leave it ever again.
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#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE.。
。this man takes the cake for being the most jealous man in honkai 。he’s a charmer. he wins you over easily, because who could resist his charisma and his wealth, honestly. He flirts his way easily with you— unlike Sunday, he likes an impromptu plan, and rather enjoys surprises- any attempt of you trying to break up with him will not irritate him at all, contrary to the former. 。“Your attempts fascinate me. Too bad you lost all your bargaining chips. You gonna play another round with me, love? I’m more than willing to, you know.” 。he will be pleased, intrigued at how he can break you down again. he likes a little chase and gamble, he doesn’t want his prey served on his plate, he likes the thrill of hunt. 。he’d even be impressed if you escape him. But not for long, because he will bring you back to where you belong. 。this man will barely be angry over you. He won’t force any affection onto you, he satisfies himself by buying you expensive clothes instead, as if you are his little doll. He is content with you being a quiet and submissive trophy. 。what this man does not tolerate, however, is you being with anyone else. He cannot bear the thought that someone is around you more than he is, and that you rely on someone more than you rely on him. Aventurine has pride over his abilities, anyone taking you is like taking his most precious trump card. 。despite the jealousy he feels, he will still regard this as a particularly entertaining game. But he knows he will win this gamble, too.
❝ AH, IT’S SUCH A THRILLING GAME, ISN’T IT, SWEETHEART?”
You watch AVENTURINE toss the coin into the air and roll it around his fingers, his mesmerizing eyes examine the bitter look of defeat on your features.
“This isn’t funny,” you sobbed, despair dawning on you upon realizing that you truly lost everything to him. You had no more moves left in this game he put you in. He was merciful enough to spare your blood relatives, but your friends were gone- including the nice and sweet, innocent guy you shared friendly banter with for barely an hour.
“A gamble is fair and share, love.” He puts his hand on your waist, giving you a short kiss that tasted of wine. You felt nothing but defeat as he tossed the coin on the table where it flopped. “You just picked the wrong set of cards to play with.”
He is close to you all of a sudden, his hot breath tickling your skin, smelling of victory and wealth. His eyes stare right into you as he chuckles, the sadistic glint in his eyes glitter a little more when you feel a tear escape your eye. He leans to your ear, lightly biting your earlobe as he adds,
“Nobody wins with a deck with only clovers, my love. A shame that your cards were so… discardable.”
He laughs at that, watching your stunned face. He loves the look of surprise on you. It is endearing, it shows so well that you do not know how to play his game at all.
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Cold-hearted wolf
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Masterlist
Pairing: Cregan Stark × Martell reader
Tags: arranged marriage, cregan starts out mean in this, enemies to lovers cus he's grumpy and has no time for feelings,
Chapter 3: the way he's obsessed with you, can't stop thinking impure thoughts while he's away, the calm before the sex... pick your favorite.
Note: I made up a war with Highgarden subplot that's not Canon. Ahem, for the plot, so bare with me.
Cregan Stark sat inside a tent with his face twisted in a mix of pain and discomfort. The maester carefully worked to stitch up a nasty gash that ran from his neck to his lower abdomen, courtesy of an enemy soldier's sword. He had little pity for the other man when he cut him clean through the heart with his own blade. The wound was a battle scar from the successful siege, a strategic victory that had his soldiers celebrating and chearing outside.
One of Cregan's knights entered the tent, bearing two pints. He handed one to his injured ruler. "This ale should ease the pain, my lord."
Cregan took the offered drink. "Bring more. This stitching feels personal."
The old man, still focused on his task, dismissed Cregan's jest. "Your Highness, if you'd stop squirming, it would help."
Cregan held still as the maester continued his work. "How many casualties did we suffer?"
The knight looked thoughtful for a moment. "Surprisingly low, my lord. The plan was exceptional."
Cregan's gaze shifted to the ground, and a sense of guilt crept over him. The plan that had proven so effective during the battle was one that you had worked on together. Right before he rudely discarded you. Your tactical insights and knowledge of warfare had been instrumental to saving his and his men's lives today. "I should have listened to her sooner.”
“My lord?”
“Lady y/n.” Cregan specified.
The knight nodded in understanding.
The maester stitching spoke up. “It takes time to see the wisdom in others, my lord. We can only strive to make amends."
Cregan hated being proven wrong. He kept his mouth shut.
As the stitching neared completion, the knight spoke up, "You've fought well today.”
Cregan shook his head with a satisfied smile. "I can't take all the credit. Tyrell's sword was his own downfall.” His enemy's weapon, though notoriously giant, was unwieldy, and Cregan, younger, more agile, and more practiced with his weapon, found his opening.
With the gash stitched and the pain somewhat subsiding, Cregan took another sip of ale. He couldn't help but feel a need to have you close. To celebrate with you, and thank you for your strategy, which was invaluable to his cause. He wanted you beside him in the next council meeting.
But you were far off, warm, and safe in Winterfell. No doubt giving his sister an earful about what an awful husband he's been if the letters he's received from her were any indication.
I like her very much, Cregan. And if you open your mind you would come to like her too. Also, it would help if you'd stop behaving like an ass.
The thought of you two getting along made him smile. Even if it was at his expense.
He was ashamed to admit there was truth to your accusation that night. No, he had not seen you as an equal. How could he?
What could you possibly know of the plight of living in the harsh and unforgiving environment of the North. Of its values and way of life. He'd read about Dornish life in his studies. Sunspear was warmth, music, dancing, and hedonism, literally the opposite of Winterfell. This showed to be true the moment you stepped foot on his grounds. You, with your carefree attitude and enticing dresses, perhaps accepted in your culture, but downright scandalous in his.
He remembered his anger in the hot springs when he heard the men going on about your wardrobe.
“I'd like to see if the Dornish sun forgot a few places.”
They were only jesting. Men, especially soldiers, made vulgar jokes all the time. But the fact that his men spoke about you in such a way made his blood boil hotter than the springs underneath the palace grounds.
All it took was a look from Cregan, and the man shut his mouth, swallowing nervously. But Cregan's anger didn't subside so easily.
He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, remembering taking his frustration out in your bedroom that same day he heard the vulgar comment, and the two more times that evening, and once more the next morning. His hands gripped his chair, mimicking the possessive way he'd held you with every thrust.
He wondered if you questioned why he was so upset. Although even if you did, judging by your whimpers and moans, you didn't seem to mind.
Visions of you flooded his mind. Walking around with a high brow, flaunting your skin freely with seductive silks for his court to admire. Looking elegant and graceful while flipping him onto his back in the training yard. Unknowingly offering up a fantasy of an exotic warrior princess from the far south to hungry and repressed northern eyes… all just so you could prove a point.
He laughed. Maybe his sister was right. Stubbornness was something you two definitely had in common.
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War was a lonely ordeal. And despite the women from the neighboring towns being more than happy to keep his men company, Cregan’s mind kept finding flaws in each of them.
Their lack of quiet defiance made them too agreeable, he decided. Although, no, not only that. It was also the missing fire in their eyes, the missing pride. They also had the wrong color hair and the wrong length, too. And on top of that, their clothing was also too... cold, yes. Too modest.
The gods help him. He was fucked.
Amidst the noise of his tent, he sat at a table surrounded by his men who were drinking and celebrating. The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance in the night. A raven's message had arrived, and he quickly sloppily unfurled the parchment, his eyes scanning the words eagerly.
The letter was from you, recounting the events of the day. "In an attempt to offer you a change of scenery, I will try to paint an image of how things are back home.” Your handwriting said. “Winterfell is alight with celebration of your victory. The town square was full of life. The common folks greeted me with glee and danced and sang. I even tried deer meat at an inn. It was… chewey."
A corner of his mouth lifted as he red the letter in your voice.
"You are well loved and admired, my lord. And missed. Also, please pet Grey for me as he is dearly missed as well."
A chuckle escaped Cregan's lips as he reached over to scratch his loyal dog behind the ear before continuing to read. "I even showed one boy how to use my Dornish blade. My favorite one."
Your willingness to connect with his people - your people, he corrected himself, was quite marvelous. A smile tugged at the corners of Cregan's lips as he pictured you among the celebrating townsfolk. He felt a painful pull at his chest, his hands itching for your skin.
He wondered, not for the first time, how he could remedy his actions of your last night together before he marched off. Regretfully recalling the fire and hurt in your eyes.
It would take more than a letter to make up for it. Cregan was neither poet nor a man of many words. He took action. He needed to fix this the only way he knew how.
The next day, he helped his squires and men pack the Stark army camp. With victory secured, they would be marching back to Winterfell.
Cregan was coming home.
@malfoycassimalfoy @leahnicole1219 @literishdegree99
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eelnoise · 9 months ago
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supplicate (nsfw!)
18+ MDNI!
Trafalgar Law x afab!reader cw: mild brat taming, teasing, edging, snarky law, piv sex, creampie an: this one kinda went overboard and was not meant to be this long. it was supposed to be two drabbles for both zoro and law but i kinda got carried away. i'll post them separately or whatever idk. tagging: @bby-deerling @themushroomofdeath @risenwrites @kaizokuniichan @strawheart-pirate
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At this rate you were going to kill him.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair as his jeans tighten again. You’d been at it all day – touching and teasing him every chance you get. Running your fingers down his arm when you bring him coffee and lingering far longer than you usually do before departing with a small smirk across your lips, not-so-subtly unzipping your boiler suit just enough for him to get a glance of the soft flesh that lies beneath when you cross paths throughout the day’s work, and he doesn’t miss the sultry, half lidded gaze that seems to follow wherever he goes.
Must be some kind of cruel joke, he thinks. Something you and Ikkaku had conspired together to conjure just to drive him up the wall. Law wasn’t keen on any of the crew knowing of your shared… situation, though considering the fondness you have of your crewmate, he should’ve known it was inevitable. And usually, he pays it no mind – so long as he isn’t bothered by any unwelcome, irritating comments or jabs.
But today it eats at him, riles him until your very image is superimposed onto the backs of his eyelids. As much as it pains Law to admit – your stubborn attempt at teasing him had worked, and probably much more than you even knew. Of course, he could simply take care of the ever growing, insistent need for you right now – right here in his office, and without you. He considers it for a moment as he leans back in his chair. There's poetic irony in the thought, and he chuckles selfishly to himself imagining the look on your face when he doesn’t give what you think you’ve won.
Though why deny himself the sweetened privilege of correcting your impish behavior? You’ve earned it at this point, a victory certainly – though perhaps not quite the prize you seek. Law’s mind reels with possibility, bringing him to a point of distraction that leaves him unable to focus on his own tasks. He wants to teach you a lesson, wants to hear you beg, whine, writhe beneath him, pleading for release that he plans on withholding until your absolute limit. 
The way his cock throbs painfully against his thigh gives him an answer that he can’t ignore, and without a second – more rational – thought, utters a near-silent “Room. Shambles.” 
Suddenly it doesn’t matter where you were or what you were doing. And Law isn’t surprised when you appear before him looking smug and as expectant as ever. 
“Took you long enough,” You begin, the coy edge to your voice cutting through the silence that had been his prison for the past few hours. “Thought maybe-”
Law slides backwards away from his desk and cuts you off with a snap of his fingers – a sure signal for you to keep your mouth shut. “Strip, and make it quick.” The way you shiver from his words alone does not go unnoticed, lips twitching upward at just how easy it is to make you come apart from him.
Spurned onward by both his demeanor and his obvious predisposition, you hastily peel your layers off and leave them in a heap around your feet and step toward him. Law leans back and places his elbows on either arm of his chair. Seems like you’re going to have to work for it.
He only assists you with a slight raise of his hips when you move to free his cock from its confines and allows you to pull his jeans and underwear down as you see fit to do. Instinctively you lean down with means to wrap your lips around him, but Law grabs you by the forearm and clicks his teeth – twisting you around to settle into his lap. 
Law reaches down to the backs of your thighs, pulling you into a position that aligns himself near perfectly with you, and pressing your back to the edge of the wooden desk. You gasp when he glides his length along your slick folds, an excited half-mewl that lets him know that you’re exactly where he wants you to be. He delights in the sight of you trying in vain to roll your hips for any sort of friction, but his hold on you is too heavy and the attempts get you nowhere. “Law – come on!” 
At your frustrated plea, Law tilts his head forward to peer at you with a knowing smirk on his lips. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be talking,” He purrs smoothly, breathing hot upon your neck. “Let alone making demands.” 
He ruts his hips slowly – painfully – against you. Whines befall your lips as he lazily slides his cock up and down your pussy, making sure to press just a little harder against your clit. Law knows what makes you tick, having analyzed and researched each reaction to his ministries over the years at sea. He knows just how to make you cry out in limited bliss, how to inch you right to the precipice of paradise – only to whisk it away at the blink of an eye.
Why should you get away so easily?
Still tight within his grip, you’re at his will. Each stroke of him against your walls, feeling every throb of his cock within you leaves you a whiny, needy mess. The frustration turned ecstasy in your gaze cracks his guise further, though not enough to unmask him – yet.
He’d never admit it at a time like this, but the way you sound, the way you feel, the way your expressions twist and curve at his teasing – he needs you like a man needs food. And deciding that you’ve had your fill of his game is a good enough excuse to up the ante.
Law guides himself to your entrance, and using the abundance of slick that glistens along his flesh, eases you onto him. You hiss out a moan as he bottoms out, and a moment later he’s bouncing you up and down his cock, pace still unhurried and languid. 
It's agony, sweet and unsated passion that you’re not being given despite your best attempts goading both now and throughout the day. Your laments fall on deaf ears as Law continues his tortuous campaign, pulling you down onto him until your hips are flush together, letting the head of his cock twitch against the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back in your head. You’re desperate, the need for him begins to outweigh your tolerance of his little game – so you do the one thing that you know will make him crumble.
You reach out for him, pressing a hand to his cheek to lead him into a tender kiss. Law’s eyes widen in surprise, but cannot help to fall into your trick. He closes them and leans into you, deepening the lip lock and groaning in satisfaction. You slip your tongue between his lips and the grip on you loosens enough to allow you to more freely grind on him. 
It takes Law a moment to come to his senses, too lost in kiss and affection to notice that you’d taken control. He breaks the gesture with a growl and a feral grin to match, and that's all the warning you get before he stands up from the chair and folds you backward onto the surface of the desk. Papers crease and books shift as he presses your thighs up to your chest, his cock drilling into your core as fast and as hard as he can give you.
“So fucking needy,” Law taunts, hovering his head just out of your reach. “Look at you. You’re desperate. Drooling for the thing only I can give you, isn’t that right?” He follows up the words with a smack to your thigh and a low chuckle. 
So much do you want to speak, though words fail you again and again. You’ve been reduced to nods and wails of pleasure, and Law is living for it.
He brings you to the edge so many times, and only a handful does he allow you to leap. Law’s stamina doesn’t give, and just when you think he’s close he stalls to a near stop – leaving you breathless and panting and giving you some respite before slamming his hips back into yours until the sound of skin against skin echo throughout his cabin once more. “Law, I can’t–” You wearily exclaim, tears pecking at your eyes beyond the hazy, fucked-out gaze you’re giving him. “It’s too much, I can’t…”
“Of course you can,” Law directs from above you. He clasps your jaw with one of his hands, lithe fingers grasping and forcing your face toward his. “You’ll take everything I have to give you since you’re being so good for me now, won’t you?”
The familiar tug from low in your belly pulls once more at his words, and in an instant you’re cumming again around his cock again. His name falls from your tongue like it's the only word in your vocabulary, and it sends his mind reeling. Law’s words eventually deceive him, and soon enough he’s digging his nails into your thigh and sighing into your neck as he fills you to the brim with his own cum.
The moment stalls, and for a moment Law looks at you, the hand nearest to your face coming to rest gently upon your cheek. You offer him a smile, and it makes his heart skip a beat. It always does. Law leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, and trailing an even softer one to your lips. It isn’t something he says often, what he’s saying to you now. The simple phrase is a whisper on his tongue, and made only for your ears – it's one you return just as quietly, though almost too eagerly.
After all, you do love him.
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frostbitebakery · 8 months ago
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Loud.
part one two three
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“You’re impossible!”
Obi-Wan harrumphs back at Cody with feeling. The way they’re running it’s equally impossible to sign or code tap. He engages the lights on his gloves, squeezes his fingers in a rhythm and the code appears in short and long lines on the back of his hand. Which he gladly shows to Cody. “You’re one to talk.”
“Dogpiling Grievous was a calculated move,” Cody huffs back, skids to a halt at a maintenance door that Obi-Wan almost missed. While Cody types in the emergency sequence, he carefully gets his message ready.
“You’re bad at math,” Cody reads blandly when he turns around. “Very funny.”
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“Careful,” he signs, fingers stiff and unwieldy as the nervousness crawls through him. Setting in his knees, making them weak. A clump in his stomach. Stiff, clumsy hands.
“You know you can change your mind any moment,” Cody says, catches his eyes and Obi-Wan sinks into the warmth. “We can stop whenever you need.”
“No.”
Cody waits for him to continue but he can’t even nod or move. The gap between their fingers feels insurmountable.
But he wants this. Needs this, on a level deeper than the trust he has in Cody.
“Shadows don’t trust easily,” he wants to say. “I do even less.” His trust is forged in pain and loss and bittersweet victories. And faith.
“I like hugging,” his fingers confess and he feels stupid for the brief moment until Cody’s face lights up.
The mask digs into his face where it’s smashed against Cody’s shoulder. Cody’s arms feel safe and unhesitating and so sure it unlocks Obi-Wan’s knees and stomach and fingers and he’s hugging back with eyes closed.
For the first time in a long, long while he wants his voice back. He doesn’t know what he’d say. And perhaps it doesn’t matter. Just the urge to pull off the mask and move his mouth—
soft lips press against his temple just over the edge of the mask, gentle fingers tap on his hand in code, “I hear you.”
You really do, don’t you, Obi-Wan thinks, watches his own hand tap in the same rushed rhythm. One short, one long, two short.
“I hear you,” Cody signs back, forehead against Obi-Wan’s brow.
Three long.
Obi-Wan never lost his voice.
Three short, one long.
Not with the people that matter.
One short.
“Me too,” Cody whispers. “Ready?”
The catches on the mask hiss as they open.
.
“You’re impossible!”
Obi-Wan harrumphs back at Cody with feeling. The way they’re running it’s equally impossible to sign or code tap. He engages the lights on his gloves, squeezes his fingers in a rhythm and the code appears in short and long lines on the back of his hand. Which he gladly shows to Cody. “You’re one to talk.”
“Dogpiling Grievous was a calculated move,” Cody huffs back, skids to a halt at a maintenance door that Obi-Wan almost missed. While Cody types in the emergency sequence, he carefully gets his message ready.
“You’re bad at math,” Cody reads blandly when he turns around. “Very funny.”
Obi-Wan squeezes out another message.
“It was also very hot,” Cody reads. And pauses.
Obi-Wan imagines the blush hidden by the helmet vividly and smiles.
He’s ushered with no further comment into the maintenance closet which bears entrance to some shortcuts across the Malvolence. He looks at Cody in question who shrugs.
“I briefly saw the holoprints in one of the war rooms.”
Yes. One of the many reasons this infatuation is turning into something warm and bright and unbearably sweet. Cody is making himself a place in Obi-Wan’s heart like he’s coming back home.
“We’re almost there, Sir,” Cody says suddenly, relief palpable in his voice. Master Windu must have finally reached him on comms. “Understood, Sir. No more shenanigans, Sir.”
Obi-Wan’s shoulders shake with laughter.
.
“The mask helps me breathe,” Obi-Wan explains, head held high under Cody’s gaze. Getting out of breath could possibly suffocate him. Too dry or humid air is painful. With the exact parameters of what his body is able to handle, the healers had settled on a mask to protect him when he runs too fast. “Or other strenuous activities,” he adds with a slight smirk.
Cody shakes his head at him with a fond smile that tingles in Obi-Wan’s chest pleasantly. His thumb caresses the web of scars going from Obi-Wan’s bottom lip. “Can you feel that?”
“A little bit.” Not much at all, when it comes down to it. Kissing has become unimportant to him out of necessity. Few people had wanted to kiss him in the first place when the scars had still looked fresh. He’s lucky his jaw hadn’t needed to be replaced, so he’s not complaining.
It had been difficult nonetheless. To work around the muteness, the way his body had been changed. He’s learned to put more importance into other gestures than kissing on the mouth.
Cody’s forehead rests against his once more, catching his hand and slowly stroking the palm, up to the fingertips. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Gestures like Cody’s.
.
“I didn’t expect to see you there,” Cody says as they settle into the rescue shuttle. “General Windu said we had reliable intel to do a hit and run on the Malvolence.”
Obi-Wan waves his hand, palm empty before a flick of his fingers reveals the data stick.
“Information retrieval,” Cody asks, voice changing from vocoder to his usual timbre as he lifts his helmet. “I imagine there was a lot of useful data to harvest.” The shuttle is rocked as the warship explodes. “I should’ve saved my sweets ration,” Cody murmurs, eyes reflecting fire and bone-deep satisfaction.
“You’re dying for a fabricated war,” Obi-Wan doesn’t sign. The intel he managed to get his hands on is enough to connect the missing senate funds with Serenno’s newly acquired wealth from another angle and make it waterproof.
Destabilizing a whole galaxy for— for shits and giggles. Obi-Wan sits on his hands, shuts himself up so he can think.
“The Dark Side has clouded their vision. Hundreds of senators are now under the influence of a Sith lord called Darth Sidious,” Dooku’s voice grates through his memory. Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to tell him just where he could store his lightsaber for safekeeping so his erstwhile grandmaster had taunted him with the truth, in hindsight.
Anakin.
The signs rush out of his hands, too fast for Cody at first. He repeats himself, trusts that Cody, brilliant, brilliantly fast Cody, will get it.
The helmet is back on Cody’s head, lights flickering on, antennas adjusting their angle.
“General Windu, this is Commander Cody using emergency frequency 2-Esk-5-0. Immediate contact with General Bilaba required. Immediate removal from battle of General Skywalker required. Use of force strongly encouraged should he resist.”
Obi-Wan crosses the small distance, waving his hands before using the quick battle sign for “deliver message”.
“General, Master Shadow Kenobi has a message,” Cody says, doesn’t pause as he translates to voice even though his back goes ramrod straight. “Chancellor is the Sith. I have proof. Ani must be kept away from him.”
.
“Some call them traitors,” Cody whispers, “but I’d rather turn a blind eye and let them run than watch them step into blaster fire because they don’t want to fight with every fiber of their being.”
“You’re a good man,” Obi-Wan signs, hands held up a bit so Cody can see. He hadn’t wanted to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes for the confession, had chosen to press him close under his chin instead. “You’re a good man,” Obi-Wan taps out on Cody’s chest so he can feel his words, too.
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zinzabee · 3 months ago
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Happy two year anniversary of the release of the Rise of the TMNT movie. To celebrate, here's my interpretation of what Raph experienced before and during his time Krangified.
Some personal notes below the cut.
During the time the movie first premiered on Netflix, I was going through one of the worst periods of my life, and began to experience extreme dissociative episodes that would leave me in an extremely vulnerable physical state. I already related heavily to Raph after watching the TV show, but seeing what happened to him in the movie hit me on a much more closer and personal level. It took me two years to fully complete this comic, because working on it made me think back to these intense and painful memories, and that was a struggle for a while. Only recently, within the last couple months, has my situation bettered enough for me to work on it without being too uncomfortable. 
This is me putting my raw, firsthand experiences onto paper, because I want to make peace with my past in order to move forward. Raph's victory in overcoming the Krang's control is, in my eyes, the same as my victory in surviving those intense dissociative episodes. This is a reflection of my personal struggle, meant to help me attain a very specific closure. I hope that perhaps someone else who is suffering, or who has suffered similarly, will see this and know there is hope. Our experiences may not be exactly the same, but I want you to know that you are not alone. 
Lastly, I would like to thank every individual person who worked on bringing this show to life, from first conception to the movie's premier. Rise has been a source of light in my life that I never could have imagined. From the friends I've made, to the art I've created, to the fits of laughter and the tears I shed as I sat through every episode over and over again. It wouldn't be possible without any of you, so thank you for being a part of it. No matter how big or small a role, I am eternally grateful to you. 💚
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago
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okay so if jace and aemond are both in love with reader how do you think they would react if reader was on the other side of the war and they had to fight them on dragon back???
Jace felt his heart break upon realising that he has to fight you. He doesn’t wish to be the reason you are brought to harm that he had once promised to keep you away from, he doesn’t think his heart would be able to handle it, but the realm was being plunged into war and you were unfortunately on the opposite side thanks to your father for pledging your house for Aegon.
Jace had tried to offer you his hand in marriage but your father wasn’t having it, proclaiming that you were already betrothed to someone else. Your father was aware of Jace’s feelings for you but wasn’t about to let his child marry the bastard son of Rhaenyra.
So without any options for him to take to secure your safety, Jace had come to terms with the reality that he had to kill you in order to help his mother sit the throne she was promised, would this war away at him for the rest of his days? Absolutely. You were his heart, his light, his breath of fresh air but now you were the thorn in his side that he couldn’t remove for he didn’t want to forget the delicious pain you brought him by making him love you.
He didn’t want to do this but his family had lost too much to the greens, so seeing you take their side without so much of a fight has to be the greatest betrayal he’s ever experienced, his heart hurt with the notion that he hasn’t once crossed your mind when you had been nothing but all consuming in his. Jace could only hope that the next life would be more merciful for the both of you as you both lunged for the other.
Aemond valued duty above all else for he didn’t have anything else, he was a kinslayer, the worst thing that you could possibly hope to be in Westeros. He had doomed himself from the start by claiming Vhagar that night on driftmark but he didn’t care because for the first time he felt like someone and felt useful for his family.
I wish I could say that he’d wouldn’t dare engage with you in combat but I’d be lying, if anyone before him opposes his family, then they are as good as dead regardless of how he felt in the past. However apart of him was certain you have come to hate him with a rage as blistering as dragonfire for what he had done to Lucaerys at Storm’s End.
He had ruined any and all hopes of your future together for good that day and drove you into siding with his half sister, the true heir to the throne, as you screamed with your whole chest upon Cannibal. Your mind has been made up as had his along time ago, his family needed him to win the war, he was there biggest asset and you were team black’s greatest asset they had at their disposal; your clash was an inevitable one.
Aemond know his heart might always belong to you but you were never his to claim, it wasn’t fate as you were promised to the likes of Benjicot Blackwood. Aemond had caught you both exchanging pleasantries beforehand once but didn’t think much of it until war finally broke across the realm, only then did it started to make sense. You were never his when your heart belonged to another and he wasn’t fully yours either when his heart was set on brining victory to his family over the love that could’ve been.
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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months ago
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Teen!Reader finding Alastor all beaten and bruised after the finale and getting worried, insisting in patching him up, etc, while Alastor during the entire time is having a moment of realization like "oh, this kid ACTUALLY cares about me"
(This is platonic obviously, reader sees him like a weird older brother/father figure and looks up to him idk)
I love it. Simple, enjoyable and to be honest, we’ll just pretend Alastor had his sick solo in the finale before we showed up and I suppose Al will be quite unhinged and aggressive in this state so goddamn. Also, my second time writing about the finale
Platonic! Alastor- Reaching Out
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“You son of a bitch, I am trying to help you!” You growl out, now half-wrestling with the Radio Demon himself, after his lose battle against Adam. Whilst Adam has been finally defeated at Lucifer’s hand then killed at Niffty’s knife. It’s clear as crystal that Alastor isn’t taking his own defeat well at all. He’s aggressive, completely lost his usual charismatic, well-mannered demeanour, he’s breaking down and barking at you to back off as you’re still trying to pry his own hands off the visible red bleeding wound over his chest
You’ve found this retreating deer out of pure luck and now, you’re acting on your compassion for him to try make the process of healing less painful for him
You’re the only Hazbin Hotel staff member that actually treated Alastor more than an annoyance standing there. He isn’t the best guy at there, never. No, but he isn’t as bad as Vaggie or Husk claim he is. However, right now, he’s boiling your blood with how much he is refusing to let you even touch him, despite the fact he needs to be patched up. He’s low on power, his cane is snapped in half, he’s limited and requires help
“I don’t need your help, Leitora!” Alastor barks back in possibly the most unhinged way you’ve ever seen, basically backing into a wall. He can’t even notice how worried you actually are, how you’re getting frustrated because you’re worried and you’re the only one who has been looking for and have found Alastor whilst everybody else is celebrating the victory over Adam. You’re the one looking for and now looking out for the man you actually find quite nice. He isn’t as patronising to you, for whatever reason, Alastor’s decent and it’s almost like he wants to be some type of figure in your life with how he behaves
“Stay still before you bleed yourself to unconsciousness, you narcissistic edible piece of shit!” You only say this so cruelly, sharp and half loud as to put Alastor into his place, prove to him you’re not backing down whilst you finally win the half wrestling session you have with the weakened and distressed Overlord, already beginning to check around for the entire length of the wound and use what little excess fabric your current clothing has to make a makeshift bandage for this wound
This is surprising, you’re possibly two times his age. A teenager, if not 15-16 at the oldest upon your human death and you’re acting more mature than the biologically 34 year old. Alastor just stayed quiet, tall fluffy deer-like ears still pinned back and suffering through the intense pain. He wouldn’t admit that he is quite grateful that somebody is around but at the same time, he doesn’t want to get attached to any soul
It took him a proper glance at the cute young sinner he found it fun to playfully tease, mock and behave like a clingy overprotective big brother to piss off, that they genuinely care for him. That they aren’t lying or pretending as to get something out of him like he suspects everybody in the Hotel, including Charlie, is
This is so much different than he suspected, he was believing he’d be going back to his radio tower to vent out his rage at being smacked in the face of such a pathetic opponent
Ending up being the pathetic opponent. He hates showing his weakness and he can barely keep himself from snapping but he also can feel his racking nerves ease up a bit at this strong, confident yet sweet and compassionate kid trying to take care of him when they have no actual requirement to do so
Alastor takes a few more seconds to think and speak, not even realising he was sat down by you as he was thinking frantically about how his own mischievous and mocking behaviour as some type of surrogate brother for you was more than just something down to see your reactions for his own amusement, he does feel some type of family-based affections for you
Now, that affection has been bumped up even more. He definitely owes you a lot for caring about him like some surrogate little sibling when all he does for you is annoy you. He doesn’t even know that you actually look up to him like some type of family figure… so, the familiar feelings are mutual
“Fuck… can you just be careful with the coat? This is my treasure”
(A/N: Real quick. Leitora means ‘Reader’ in Portuguese, this’ll be our name for any none anime posts. There’s two versions; Leitora as the feminine version and Leitor as the masculine version. You can use either for us! I got this from Google Translate)
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orchidniins · 7 months ago
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Forehead Kisses | Arthur Frederick
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Summary: Arthur being the biggest green flag and taking care of his sick partner. Pairing: Arthur TV x gn!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word count: 1.3k+ A/N: Short one to start the week. I have a ton of requests that I'm currently working on at the moment (honestly I'm a lot slower at writing than I thought) and I'm hoping to get out 2 longer fics next week (if work doesn't keep me busy that is) 🤞 Thanks anon for the request! Hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
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As you step into your apartment, the door creaks softly behind you. You clutch your forehead, rubbing your temples in an attempt to ease your pounding migraine. Each step you take only worsens your body pains, leaving you feeling as though you've been hit by a truck. You shed your jacket and kick off your shoes, your body craves rest, wanting nothing more than to just curl up in bed. However, thoughts of the work you still have to complete nag at you, not wanting anything to pile up for the rest of the week.
Tossing your keys onto the table, the loud clatter disrupts the quietness of the room and you mentally curse yourself. You try to move as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Arthur, who had mentioned his plans to live stream for a few hours today. And despite your best efforts, an uncontrollable fit of coughing wracks your body, sending a sharp pain shooting up to your head again. You groan out in pain, unable to ignore the discomfort.  
Arthur was in his office in the midst of a live stream, chatting away with his viewers when he heard you from the living room. Pausing the game he was playing, he swiftly excuses himself from the stream, taking off his headset and exits the room.
You glance towards his office, the soft click of his door catching your attention. Upon spotting your red nose and sunken eyes, he doesn't hesitate for a moment, swiftly hurrying to your side. "Hey, darling, are you okay?" His voice is laced with genuine concern as he assesses your condition.
"I just had a bit of a headache, so my boss sent me home early," you shrug as you explain, trying to downplay the situation. "It's probably nothing, maybe just because it's cold and windy outside—" Your sentence is cut short by cough, prompting Arthur's concerned gaze. "Why didn't you tell me before you left for work?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "How long have you been feeling like this?", his hands come to rest on your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.
"You see, this is why," you remark, sounding slightly exasperated. "Weren’t you going to stream today?" Arthur immediately responds, "Don't worry about that, darling," he assures you, still just as worried.
"I'm fine, babe," you quickly reassure him, not wanting to worry him any further, knowing he'll drop everything to take care of you. "I'm feeling better now that I'm home. I'm actually gonna get some work done." But before you can continue, Arthur shakes his head adamantly. "No work, absolutely not. You need to rest," he insists firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he gently guides you towards the bedroom.
“But…I don’t want stuff to pile up”, you attempt to protest. But Arthur remains resolute, his gaze soft as he looks at you caringly. "There are others who can handle your work for now," he insists gently. "Right now, you need rest, medicine, and some tea." 
You look back at him with a small pout, hoping to sway him, "Off to bed you go," he says, as you two step into the bedroom.
"But Arthur," you begin, whining, but he cuts you off with a pointed look. "No, Y/N," he says, giving you a pointed look.
Finally, you concede, a sigh escaping your lips. "Fine, I'll sleep for an hour, but promise me you'll wake me up so I can finish up work." Arthur simply nods, accepting the small victory.
After changing out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable, you sit down on the bed "Just stay put, I'll get you the medicine," he says, but you attempt to get up from bed, insisting, "No, no, it's fine, Arthur, I'll get it myself." However, he gently pushes you back down. "No, I've got it,"
"But what about your stream?" you worry, but Arthur dismisses your concern with a laugh. "Just sleep, darling," he urges before leaving momentarily to fetch the medicine. Returning with water and the medicine, he hands them to you. "Here, take it," he instructs, watching as you comply before he helps you settle into bed.
"Do you need more pillows or a blanket?" Arthur asks, but you quickly decline, insisting that you're fine. "You just get back to your stream. Don't leave your viewers staring at an empty chair," you joke weakly. Arthur chuckles, "You just worry about getting better," before you interject, "It’s literally nothing, Arthur. I’ll be fine after a small nap. Just make sure you wake me up in an hour okay?" He responds with a sarcastic chuckle, “Yeah sure darling”, and you soon start to feel yourself getting drowsy. He brushes the hair out of your face, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before quietly leaving the room.
Ignoring your request, Arthur allows you to sleep for as long as you need to, making sure to check up on you every 15 minutes or so. If he hears even a peep from the bedroom, he excuses himself from his stream to ensure you're okay or to make sure you've taken your medicine, sitting beside you until you drift back to sleep.
After another 30 minutes or so, Arthur decides to end his stream early, apologizing to his viewers before quietly slipping back into the bedroom to check on you. He walks up to you and sits beside your sleeping form, noticing a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead. Gently grabbing a towel, he wipes it, causing you to slowly wake up. "Sorry, sorry, go back to sleep," he quickly apologizes, feeling slightly guilty for waking you. However, you decide to sit up in bed, “No it’s fine,” you say, giving him a small smile.
He smiles softly and leans in to kiss you on the forehead, gently rubbing the sleep marks on your face. "How are you feeling?" he asks.
"Better," you reply with a slight smile. "My head doesn’t hurt as much." Leaning to grab a tissue, you blow your nose before asking, "What time is it?"
"It's around 7 pm," Arthur responds gently. "You've been asleep for about 3 hours."
"You told me you’d wake me up," you start to say, your tone slightly whining.
"Yeah, but you are really sick," Arthur interjects gently. "You don't need more work, you need to rest."
"But—", you begin to speak, but then you cough, a sharp pain shooting to your head. You look at him sheepishly as you groan, finally accepting, "Yeah, fine. I’m sick."
Arthur nods understandingly as he laughs at your admission. "I'll be right back, let me get you some tea," he says, getting up before quietly leaving the room.
He comes back after a few minutes, finding you sitting with your eyes closed, leaning against the headboard. As he walks in with the tea and more medicine, setting them down on the nightstand, he sits on the bed next to you, causing the mattress to dip slightly and the movement wakes you up.
"Hey, I’ve got your tea," he says softly, offering you the cup. "It'll help with your throat."
You pick it up and take a sip, feeling the warmth trickle down your throat, soothing the ache.
You look at him with a small smile, "Thank you, baby."
Arthur smiles warmly, replying, "Anything for you, love. You know I always wanna take care of you."
"I love you," you say softly, placing your palm on his hand that was resting on the mattress.
"I love you too, more than anything," Arthur responds, his eyes filled with affection.
His hand comes up to gently rub your cheek. As he leans in for a kiss on the lips, your hand comes up to cover his mouth, saying, "No, you'll get sick too. And then I’ll have to take care of you, and you’re the clingy type when you’re sick."
He feigns hurt for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Okay, okay, forehead kisses only," he agrees, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, eliciting a smile from you as he leans and places a kiss on your forehead.
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Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊
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yet-another-heathen · 20 days ago
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I saw ur really informative post on conditioning and said with whumpers uts about using pain again and again
Any advice about caretakers deconditioning?
[ Referring to this post. ]
The first and most important thing is that the caretaker cannot decondition the whumpee. It's not possible. That progress is entirely internal, and requires a massive amount of introspection, self-motivation, and practice from the whumpee themself. No one else can do it for them.
But what the caretaker can do is be there for them while the whumpee fights toward their own recovery. They can be the stability that whumpee needs in order to work through these massive problems on their own.
Deconditioning is awful. It involves repeated failure, over and over and over, working toward lessening the response. And it is incredibly frustrating, painful, heartbreaking, and at times it feels completely hopeless.
Progress is so non-linear that they can spend months improving and then backslide nearly back to the beginning if they get caught off guard. At times it'll feel like they're stuck at the same point and can't get any further. Like a future where they will be free of it may simply not exist.
At many points, your whumpee is going to feel heartbroken. They're going to spiral into, "Why can't I do this? Why can't I make it stop?" and, "I thought I was past this." and, "Will I ever be able to undo what whumper made me?"
A good caretaker can be there to comfort them when things go wrong. They can hold them while they cry. They can listen to them when they go into a sobbing, breathless rant about how much this hurts. They can make sure that whumpee knows they have someone who doesn't think of them as broken or lesser because of what they've gone through.
Depending on if whumpee feels it would help, they might help them brainstorm a reward system. If there's a situation where they're around other people and the caretaker spots the trigger coming, they can try to redirect conversation away from it before it hits. Preferably without anyone realizing they're doing it for whumpee's sake. When whumpee has just been triggered and wants nothing more than to be alone, the caretaker can make sure their boundaries are respected. To make sure they have somewhere safe to go.
Even more importantly, they can also help by highlighting the moments of whumpee's progress. Pointing out their successes, no matter how small. Pointing out how far they've come. Reminding them that the ups and downs are supposed to happen. That trauma recovery is a rollercoaster, not a straight line.
As a whumpee in that state, it's very easy to feel like they're making no progress. That even when they succeed, the tiny bits of success are hollow, because 'they shouldn't be like this in the first place'. Have your caretaker help them see their own victories. Help them actually see the healing as it grows.
A realistically conditioned whumpee does not need someone to fix them. They need someone to be there for them while they save themselves.
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This was such a good ask, thank you for sending it my way!
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nolovelingers · 1 year ago
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WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
⋆ ★ movies :: scream ,, scream v ,, scream vi
characters used ᝰ.ᐟ billy loomis / stu macher / sidney prescott / wes hicks / ethan kirsch (landry) / tara carpenter / mindy meeks martin / chad meeks martin
🎧 cw — jealousy (obvi) ,, violence and dark themes (only for the ghost faces) ,, possessiveness ,, gn!reader except for stu and mindys part !!!
——————————————————————————
ೄྀ࿐ BILLY LOOMIS ˊˎ-
billy doesn’t really get jealous often. he’s extremely self-confident in himself and knows that there really is no one better than him. he knows you wouldn’t dare leave him for another, but that doesn’t stop the occasional feeling of possessiveness creeping through his mind at the sight of seeing you with another guy.
he definitely doesn’t mention it to you, not wanting you to know that the sight got to him, even if it was only slightly, and resorts to sending a glare in the person of interests direction when you’re not facing him. the second you turn around he gives you a sweet toothy smile, both cunning and sly all the same and he makes sure to lock eyes with the person while bringing you in for a deep kiss, hand gripping your face securely as if you were a possession.
and of course, he’d send stu to kill the person later that night; not feeling like their death was worth his own time.
彡 “billy, hey.” turning to greet your boyfriend with a chastened and quick kiss to his mouth, he hums, savoring the feeling of your lips moving against his that was all too short in his opinion.
“hey doll.” the corners of his mouth itched up, a smirk creasing over his face that held mischief, a dark sense of playful fun as he observed you, eyes quickly flicking from you to the boy you were currently talking to. he looked at the kid for not longer than a few seconds before returning his stone cold gaze back to you, like the man wasn’t good enough for his eyes to settle on.
“who you talking to?” he asks, only a hint of actual curiosity lingering in his voice, meeting your eyes with his and wrapping an arm around your lower body.
“oh, this is daniel. he’s in my history class.”
billy hums, returning his eyes back to the boy, who’s name was apparently daniel, in an almost predatory way. daniel felt unease through his veins as the loomis boy studied him, and smiled a bit. “nice to meet you.” he said, and billy nodded with a straight face, suddenly holding out his hand to shake. daniel accepted the gesture, loosely shaking his hand but finding himself wincing a bit at the intensity of the blonde haired boys grip.
“im billy. (y/n)‘s boyfriend.” quick to annunciate the boyfriend bit, daniel took the hint, gulping but nodding in understandment.
“alright well, i gotta run. ill see you tomorrow.” excusing himself from the conversation, daniel walks away from the scene, shaking his hand a bit as a way to soothe some of the pain from the hand crushing grip billy had him in; and you were completely oblivious as billy smirked in victory, guiding you back to the school parking lot and quickly taking out his flip phone to text stu about their next possible victim.
ೄྀ࿐ STU MACHER ˊˎ-
unlike billy, stu is an extremely jealous cretin who quickly doubts himself when it comes to his worth in the relationship. after his very first girlfriend, casey becker, left him in the snap of her fingers for a jock, he was left to be decently insecure.
he would do anything to prevent you from having any male interaction and if he could he would have a camera on you at all times to watch you go about your day and see how you’re interacting with others who aren’t him. when he actually witnesses you talking to a guy, he’s quick to jump in.
he’s not subtle at all about it and immediately gets very touchy with you, kissing your cheek and neck in front of the dude as a ‘joke’ and goes out of his way to mock and make fun of the person in question. he will whine and beg you to leave and once you’re away from the person he asks you millions of questions, especially whether or not you were attracted to them.
just like billy, he wants the person dead and for the rest of the day all he can think about is ripping their intestines out and crucifying them to a wall. his imagination runs wild with all the ways he wanted to kill him. he asks billy about it, but billy couldn’t be bothered to care that much and unless it was really, genuinely bothering stu he’d tell him to take care of it himself. after the first three guys billy had helped stu kill all cause of his jealousy, he couldn’t be bothered anymore and he knew you would start to get suspicious. every guy you talked to was disappearing at this rate.
彡 “hey babe, who’s this?” stu jogs up to you from behind, almost crashing into your back as he slings an arm around your shoulder lazily and looks at you with a shit eating grin.
“jackson.” the man introduces himself before you can to the macher killer, and stu swivels his head to the boy. his jealousy only furthering deeper as he noticed the man to be wearing a school football uniform, a jock.
“aww, i wasn’t asking you, jason.” stu’s face falls completely and you turn to him with a devastated look, feeling embarrassed in front of your classmate. “i was asking my beautiful girlfriend.” he pulls you closer to him, his big signature wide mouth smile making its way back over his face. “dont you think she’s beautiful? isn’t she just so pretty? come on jerry you can be honest, my girlfriends hot, isn’t she?” the boys tone had drastically went from playful to deadly, like he was testing him
“stu macher, this is my english teachers teaching assistant!” you warn, your face flushing a red color at stu’s outburst but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all as he doesn’t even look at you, taking a bit of a step closer to the jock.
“oh, so you’re smart then, huh? well, clearly not that much, wearing something as tacky as that. you get dressed in the dark this morning?” he sticks his tongue out, laughing at his own joke and apparently thinking it was the funniest thing in the world as he starts to giggle with a crazed look in his eye, and though jackson felt offended and wanted nothing more than to step forward and suckerpunch macher right in the face, something about the way his eyes held mania and instability freaked the jock out.
he scoffed, rolling his eyes and walking away from the couple. jackson doesn’t even make it three feet away and you can’t get the words out to scold your boyfriend for his behavior before he’s turning you to face him and holding both your shoulders, a serious look on his face.
“babe, be honest with me, did you think he’s cute?”
ೄྀ࿐ SIDNEY PRESCOTT ˊˎ-
sidney was a fairly innocent girl who wasn’t used to all the feelings that came along in a relationship, and she never could quite put a label on the word she felt when she saw you talking to other girls. not every girl, just the ones who in her own eyes were particularly pretty or were openly flirty.
she found it hard to trust again after her last relationship, obviously not ending well since he killed all/most her friends and then tried to go after her, but after some time once she started to heal and you showed her love and how a healthy relationship should look and act she was quick to ease into the breath of fresh air you gave her.
she pouts a bit when she’s jealous, and she doesn’t make too big of a deal out of it. depending on her scale of jealousy she’d either mention it briefly to you so you could reassure her or she’d just make sure to be extra lovey with you the rest of the day to earn more of your love and give you extra of hers.
unlike stu or billy she doesn’t make herself present in the conversation, she’ll usually glance from a distance and maybe bring it up to her friends to ask about the girl you were talking to. not that she’d do anything with the information anyway. if she ends up meeting the girl, whether it’s while she’s with you or running into her when it’s just the two of them, she’s very friendly and would even try befriending the person to see the kind of people you surround yourself with.
彡 sidney watched from a short distance the interaction you shared with a girl who’s face was unfamiliar to her. she stood by her locker, face half hidden by the door and taking a glance in your direction every couple minutes.
she couldn’t deny that there was something about seeing you talk to another girl who in her mind was one of the most gorgeous people she’s ever seen, definitely far prettier than her, making her stomach twist and turn with uneasiness.
gnawing her lip a bit she tried to pay no mind to it, being respectful as she waited for you to finish your conversation so you could walk home together like you usually do. her patience worked as it often did, and within minutes she felt your hands snake around her back, and a sweet kiss being pressed to her temple. “hey sid.” you greeted, and she hummed, leaning her weight back into your arms.
“hi.” her voice rasped, a soft and gentle whisper and a smile made its way to her features while she turned around to face you, holding her hand out for you to take, which you gladly did.
“ready to go?”
“yeah.” she smiled, and you briskly leaned in to connect your lips with hers. her heart fluttered at the action and all her worries melted away. there was no reason to be jealous, she was definitely overreacting. she trusted you and the love you had for her.
ೄྀ࿐ WES HICKS ˊˎ-
by nature, wes was a very trusting and caring person. he’s gotten jealous maybe a total of two times throughout your entire relationship. he may have occasional worries, but it’s not typically jealousy he feels. he gets more insecure than he does jealous and reflects it on himself; wondering if he’s really good enough to be your boyfriend.
he is often very protective over you and while there are times you notice his body tense or a light touch of his hand pressed to the small of your back it’s not really jealousy he’s feeling, growing up in a household where his mother is a cop he was raised to be on high alert at all times; afraid a guy might do something to mess with you or make you uncomfortable.
however, on the very very few occasions where it’s jealousy he’s feeling rather than simple protectiveness, he seems to go eerily quiet. his eyes dart back and fourth from your face to the persons, studying your interaction and the body language you’re giving off. if asked about it he’ll brush it off as nothing and force a reassuring smile that fades the second you look away and forms again when you look back.
he won’t mention it ever again and within a few hours he’s back to his normal self. but unless you’re able to notice his jealousy the second it starts, he’s not one to talk or ask about it.
彡 the sun was shining down on the both of you as you sat outside against the tree located right outside tara’s house. you had made plans with all of your friends to have a big hangout and like usual you and your boyfriend had strayed off from the rest of the group to have some alone time.
wes was always huge on private intimacy and liked it better when it was just the two of you. not anything against his friends, he loved all of them, it was just nice to spend time with just his partner. mindy, tara and chad payed no attention as the couple wondered off outside and perched themselves against a woodsy tree. wes had his back completely against the tree, legs widened while you sat between them, your back on his chest and his head on his shoulder while he held onto your body with protective arms; his muscles flexing against you.
you were laughing at something the bleached-haired boy had said when your alone time was cut short, the sound of a door opening and chad stepping outside.
“what’re you two losers doing?” he asked, a teasing lopsided grin on his face as he approached you two after closing the door.
“hey chad, just hanging out.” you greet him with a smile and wes greets him with a ‘hey’ as well, still keeping his arms secured around you.
“mind if i join you? those two girls are kind of driving me crazy right now.” he chuckles, sitting down in front of the both of you and not paying any mind to the fact that you were both cuddled up. “(y/n), you should’ve stayed inside. mindy started recreating a scene from the mummy, it was sorta funny but made me concerned about my relations to her.” you don’t question why chad had aimed the conversation towards you but it’s enough for wes’ jaw to clench against your shoulder before he brought his head up all together and off of you.
“really? wow, im sorry i missed it.” you laugh a bit and chad smiles and laughs with you as you do. you wish you could see your boyfriends face right now as he then removed his arms from around you as well, but since you were sitting up against him you couldn’t turn around and see without making it obvious.
you try not to pay any attention to his sudden change in behavior as you continue making friendly banter with chad, noticing wes completely going mute until he dismisses himself with a toothless smile and a small apology, going back inside and leaving you and chad alone and confused.
ೄྀ࿐ ETHAN LANDRY ˊˎ-
ethan gets jealous over you almost every other day, sometimes just by simply thinking about you with someone else. he doesn’t even have to see you talk to someone, or flirt, or interact; he often accidentally makes himself jealous at the idea of being jealous. when he’s jealous he then gets flustered, and has no idea how to express the way he’s feeling.
when he actually sees someone flirting with you though, it ignites a fire in him that would sometimes scare himself. obviously he’s a violent guy, but when it comes to a potential threat between your relationship it only intensifies. he’d kill the person in the most brutal way imaginable, even torturing or fucking with them before hand.
assuming you don’t yet know about his ghostface identity, he’s still the sweet, awkward and adorable ethan youve grown to know and love. in the moment he won’t do much about it, maybe standing behind you and locking eye contact with the person, resting a hand on your hip with fragility and having mock friendliness. the second they leave though is when he gets more vocal about it, pestering you with questions and dread spilling throughout his body the more he thinks about it.
however if you were already aware of his identity he wouldn’t bother to hide his disdain, looking at the mystery person with pure unfiltered disgust and hatred as he kept you close to him and dismissed you from the conversation himself. if they dared to try and intervene or call him out on his behavior they’d better prepare for a good beating, he wouldn’t hesitate before pushing them to the ground and kicking them in the stomach and all over their body repeatedly like a typical 80s bully. he’d come back for the final kill another time when you weren’t with him.
彡 “can we go? im tired.” a very grumpy brunette mumbled from his spot next to you, defensively staring at the male you were talking to. an ‘old friend’ of yours.
“one second e,” you dismissed him without so much as a glance, continuing in your conversation with the guy in front of you. he was maybe 5’10, dark brown hair and hazel green eyes that ethan imagined running red with blood and tears. ethan could definitely take him in a fight.
he was quiet for about a whole minute before he sighs, rather loudly, glancing around the room and waiting for you to notice him. when you don’t face him at his first sigh, ethan let’s out a second huff of air, louder this time.
and you ignore him again. and he sighs again. and again. and agai-
“ethan, i swear to god.” you lecture, finally turning to face him and the guy in front of you laughs a bit at the two of you, which only makes ethan feel angrier.
“im tired. please can we go. pleasee!” he whines, articulating his best puppy dog eyes as he bats his long and dark lashes at you. and of course it works, it always does.
you agree, waving your friend goodbye who understands and sends you off with a smile. as you walk back to your dorms the questions finally roll in.
who was that guy? where’d you meet? did he go to school with the both of you? how long have you known him? what’s his relationship with his family like? do you think hes funny?
you humor him as much as you can before the questions start to get more and more invasive and you finally shut him down, leaving him with a pout as he sadly stares at the floor, making you feel bad and quickly cupping his face and peppering kisses all over. he smiles finally.
by the end of the day, none of the questions actually mattered. ethan decided already the second you approached him that he was a dead man.
ೄྀ࿐ TARA CARPENTER ˊˎ-
contrary to popular belief, tara could actually get jealous quite frequently. though it’s not as often as others on the list, she’s lost a good amount of people in her life and isn’t about to risk loosing the few she now has left.
when she’s jealous she can get snappy as well as sarcastic, to both you and the person she’s feeling jealous of. it’s either that, or she’s just sickeningly nice to both of you to mask her feelings. so sweet in fact that it’s mostly taken as being mocked by the one on the receiving end, which is usually what it is anyway.
she’ll stand by you as you converse, her arms crossed defensively and an rbf like you’ve never seen, but if you try to leave the conversation or ask her if something’s up she’ll tell you to just keep talking to the other person in an annoyed voice.
彡 “you’re so funny!” you blush a bit, embarrassed by the sudden compliment and attention you were receiving from the girl in front of you that originally only approached you for a question she had about the homework in the math class you shared.
“you’re SO funny!” behind you, an annoyed tara mocks the girl, raising her voice to sound high pitched and squeaky as she defensively held her arms crossed against her chest.
“tara,” you mumble, glancing at her expectantly and she sends you a glare, huffing and turning her head away from the both of you.
the girl in front of you awkwardly scratches her head and you give her a sympathetic smile. “thank you maria. ill see you tomorrow.” she nods, sending you an appreciative smile back before glancing at your girlfriend for a second and then quickly away as she realizes the girl was already glaring in her direction before walking away from the two of you.
you sigh, turning to face your girlfriend who still looks pissed off, a grouchy look on her face and arms crossed as she meets your eyes. “tara.” you repeat her name, saying so many things without saying another word. she sighs, dropping her arms back to her sides and looking away from you now in a bit of embarrassment.
“sorry.” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.
“no you’re not.”
she smirks a little. “no im not.”
ೄྀ࿐ MINDY MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-
( ↺ please only read mindys if you identify as female !! )
mindy isn’t often the jealous type and doesn’t really see many people if any at all as a threat to her. especially for no reason. the only exception for her small bursts of jealousy is when someone knows you’re dating and still goes out of their way to make a move on you.
when this happens she gets rather ticked off, probably yelling at or lecturing the person for trying to hit on someone while knowing they’re in a happy relationship. and she’ll really specify that happy bit as if to rub it in their face.
her fits don’t last very long and though she may continue to pout over it for maybe 10 minutes max afterwards all it takes is a little reassuring and she’s back to her usual self. all in all, if she’s jealous she’ll speak out about it herself.
彡 “mindy, look at me.” you instruct your girlfriend, who in fact does not look at you as she zones off into the distance with an aggravated expression.
“i do not understand how some people have the nerve. i mean seriously, she knew you had a girlfriend, she knew that girl was me, and she still went out of her way to flirt with you.” rambling on, you’re unable to get the short haired girl’s attention as she’s lost in thought.
“mindy, will you look at me?” you repeat, currently crouched down in front of her while she rocked back and fourth on a recliner.
“it’s just- it’s so frustrating! she’s such a- a- a snake!” this emits a soft chuckle to part from your lips and you finally decide to just make your girlfriend look at you instead of desperately calling out for her which didn’t seem to be working.
“i love you.” you affirm, cupping the both of her cheeks. the martin girl blushes a bit, taken off guard.
“what?”
“i love you.”
“i love you too, baby.” she smiles, and you lean up to initiate a soft kiss, her current thoughts pausing temporarily.
by the time you pull away she’s looking at you like you’re the only thing left in the world, cheekily smiling while you continue holding her face in your hands.
“sorry for making a scene back there.” she apologies, referring to back when the entire situation went down and she ended up yelling at the girl who was trying to make a move on you in the first place.
“it’s okay. it was cute. turned me on a little.”
“oh yeah?”
“yeah.” you giggled, and mindy was fast to forget about the entire situation as her priorities shifted entirely to you.
ೄྀ࿐ CHAD MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-
depending on how long the two of you have been together is how chad would go about handling his own jealousy. if the relationship is fairly new or it’s only in the talking stage, he’s the type to go flirt with someone else to make you jealous back, even though you weren’t doing it intentionally.
if you’re about 3 months or so into the relationship though or if he’d liked you for a really long time he wouldn’t resort to that. instead he’d try his best to intimidate the person, keep an arm around you and amplify his personality.
he’d constantly interrupt the two of you rather rudely and make his own conversation, add his own thoughts or ask random questions to the stranger. he’s shameless about it too and does it all with a smile. he’d be friendly enough to the person, trying to make his own opinion on them.
would definitely be unnecessarily affectionate, holding your hand and pressing kisses to the back of your palm or making you randomly sit on one of his legs while bouncing you up and down.
彡 you groaned a bit, your boyfriend now interrupting the conversation for what felt like the twentieth time as he continued to make his presence known, both arms hung over your shoulders as he has you pressed into his chest and his head hovering over yours.
“chad, honey, what are you doing?” you finally ask, excusing yourself for a moment from your friend to talk privately.
“what?” he feigns obliviousness, a knowing smirk on his face as he reached his hands out for you again, pulling you closer to him and resting his hands on your waist.
“you know what.” you sigh, hating the fact you were already trying to fight back a smile the boy made contort on your face.
“just tryna get to know your friends.” he shrugged, leaning a little closer to you. “seeing what’s up. making sure there’s no competition.”
you roll your eyes, finally a small laugh leaving your lips.
“but chad, i get doing that to my guy friends, i guess, but do you really have to do that to the girls too?”
“what? my sisters gay, im just being precautious. nothing unusual.” he shrugged innocently and you smiled as he pulled you into a hug.
“wait, you have guy friends?”
.ೃ࿐ a/n : this took so long to finish , towards the last couple the quality kinda worsened cause i spent all day writing these and finished those ones at night
started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.
( scream masterlist )
©️nolovelingers 2023
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httpswritings · 9 months ago
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ALE(xia): Average Lesbian Experience — Alexia Putellas x Reader
Warnings: lesbophobia, having trouble accepting oneself, angst.
Word count: 1326
Summary: A lie almost breaks your friendship.
A/N: Two things; Both Alexia and Reader are 21 years old, so this is set in 2015. Also, in Spain you use the word tía as a way of saying sis, same thing as tio and the word dude in English.
“C'mon Ale! Don't be a coward!“
She smiled at you, shaking her head. “I'm not going there, tía.”
You approached her, reaching for her hand, as you tried to convince her to get into the sea. It was a sunny and warm day in Barcelona. You were all wet from crashing against the waves, as Alexia had been looking at you, laughing when you were surprised by a wave that would push you, making you swallow some water.
Alexia shook her head again.
“Ale...Please?” Alexia dragged you by your left arm, pulling you into her as she began tickling you. Her hands touching the bare skin of your stomach send shivers throughout your body.
Your playful game was interrupted by two boys around your age.
“You both seem to be enjoying the beach. Wanna have some good company?”
The boys were particularly looking at you.
Alexia felt anger filling every part of her body. She was aware of how in love she was with you, and she also knew that she had to pretend not to be, as she didn't want to scare you.
She accepted herself but couldn't help but feel gross at the thought of her loving you.
She looked at the two boys, who were asking for your number, and compared herself to them. Was she better for you than them? «Without any doubt» she thought. You denied both of their requests.
With a timid smile forming on her face, she felt victorious, even if she apparently didn't have any reason to be.
What Alexia didn't know is that you've been in love with her since high school.
Always admiring her from afar, even when she was the closest to you.
You had to learn how to not react to the physical attention she showed you.
When you saw the two boys getting interested in her and began to ask her questions like her age, where she lived, and finally asking for her number, you wanted nothing but to punch them in the face.
It wasn't envy; you didn't mind Alexia getting attention from people. It was a deeper feeling.
Alexia looked at you, but your eyes were fixated on the two boys, who were smiling and checking Alexia out, looking throughout her body, making you want to throw up.
“I'm not interested either; I'm sorry.”
Those words brought you to life, and you finally looked at her.
“I have a boyfriend.”
Your world fell apart right after hearing those words come out of her mouth.
The boys finally got a no for an answer and left.
You didn't realize they did, though.
“Are you alright? It's okay; they had already left.”
You couldn't look at Alexia properly.
The girl who had your heart had given hers to another person.
Your mind was so loud, despite you being so quiet. Not a word left your mouth after hearing Alexia's statement.
“You're worrying me. Please, answer me!”
You couldn't hold it anymore and eventually broke down crying.
Alexia hugged you, and you enjoyed your time in her embrace, knowing it'd be the closest you'd be to her.
“Did they scare you that much?“
Still no words.
“If you don't answer me, I'm going to call someone.”
Someone.
You don't know why, but that word triggered you to the point where you snapped.
“Someone? Like your boyfriend?”
Alexia laughed, and that broke your heart into more pieces, if that was even possible. Alexia thought you were teasing her, as she didn't think you had believed her to have a boyfriend, when it was just an excuse to get out of that previous situation.
“Alexia, I have to go home. I'm late.” You stood up quickly, as you couldn't bear the embarrassment you felt about yourself anymore.
Alexia grabbed you by your right arm, but you harshly shook her arm off you.
You heard her whine, and it was enough for you to stop and approach her.
No pain was worse than the slightest hurt to Alexia.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you gone mad?”
Alexia was hurting, but because of your actions, not because of a silly shake. You had changed the way you behaved towards her when, not even ten minutes ago, you were laughing and begging her to get into the sea with you.
She couldn't understand the way you were behaving.
“Listen, if it's because of the boys, I'm sorry that they've asked me out too, but I swear I didn't—”
“God, Alexia, why can't you see it? It's not because of those boys; it's because of a boy. Your boyfriend. When were you going to tell me that you were with someone?” Alexia tried to speak, but you didn't let her, as you kept ranting.
“You want to know why I'm like this? Because I'm in love with you. I thought I was okay with only being your friend, but when you said you had a boyfriend, I wanted to die. Yeah, it's that dramatic because I've loved you since high school in a way friends aren't supposed to love each other. I'm sorry if this hurts you, but I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend to be okay now that I know someone else is in your life. Because, as dumb as it sounds, I had a tiny hope of you being in love with me.”
 
Alexia jumped into your arms, not letting you pull out of the hug. “Please, let's stay like this for a few seconds. Please. Please.” and you gave up on the idea of getting out of her embrace and enjoying her warmth.
Alexia looked at you. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't seem sad but relieved.
“I don't have a boyfriend. I don't even like boys, silly. I like girls, especially one who's looking at me quite confused right now.”
You were shocked. Too much information in such a short time. “If I told them I had a boyfriend, it's because I knew they were going to back off. Men respect other men. If I told them I was a lesbian, they'd probably insist on going on a date with me because many of them believe that lesbians haven't found the right man. It's quite sad, but it's what they believe.”
 
You've been there too, so you get what Alexia means. Even if Spain were one of the most LGBT-friendly countries on earth, no one would be 100% safe, far less as a lesbian.
“So, you like me?” You said this as you looked down at your hands, needing confirmation of Alexia's feelings towards you.
“Yes. I've liked you since we met in high school, but I never said anything. I was scared of losing you, so I had to learn how to put my feelings aside. You didn't notice how in love I was—I am with you. But it hasn't been an easy task, especially when people would come at you and ask you out, like those boys before, but you always rejected them, no matter if they were boys or girls, so I was scared of being rejected too.”
“Why do you think I rejected them?” you asked, laughing.
“I know. Now I know...” Alexia laughed too.
“Maybe you should try now.”
“Not here.”
-
Alexia brought you to your old high school.
It was closed as it was mid-July.
“I should've done this here five years ago, but now that we both know how we feel, I wanted to ask you if you would give me the privilege of being your girlfriend.”
You smiled, and before jumping into her arms, you accepted.
Memories of you and Alexia in high school came to your mind.
Gossiping in class, drawing on each other's hands, helping each other with studies.
The love you two shared was always there; it just needed a little time and another place to flourish, and now that you were adults, you weren't scared anymore.
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bookshelf-dust · 4 months ago
Text
strawberry love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
patrick zweig x fem!reader
gif by @beelarson
word count: 2,037
warnings: swearing, a smidge of anxiety, this is a sort of situation where reader matches patrick’s freak aka they are smartasses to each other, flirting, a little drinking but both reader + p are of age
synopsis: patrick, your not-quite-boyfriend-but-might-as-well-be-because-you’re-both-down-bad, wants you to spend the night at his place. your anxious brain hates change in routine, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.
a/n: first fic for the challengers boys!! i am very pleased with how this turned out and i think i’ve managed to get a hold of patrick’s mannerisms and his personality. this is also a bit of a new dynamic for me, but i think this fic’s atmosphere is a good one. happy reading <33
————
You are so fucking grateful that Patrick is on the other end of this phone call and not sitting next to you because, if he was, he’d see how your fingers are shaking and lift them up, going “What’s this?” with that stupid fucking smirk of his. 
And he’d look at you in that teasing way that makes you hate him more than anything.
“So, what’re you thinking? Got some excuse as to why you won’t come spend the night at my place?”
You can hear the grin growing in size across his face. You’re sure he’s sitting back on his hands with the phone on speaker as if this is the most casual experience of his life. 
“Patrick, I—”
“Be honest with me here, angel. S’all I’m askin.’ We need a fuckin’ code or something now?”
“I’m just anxious as shit and any change in routine fucks with me and so that makes me not want to put my brain through that by coming over and also…it’s you.”
He laughs. “It’s me?”
“Yes! You’re too fucking relaxed all the time and you’ve always got your googly eyes on me a-and it’s like you want me to join a damn cult, Zweig!”
Patrick laughs even harder. “You need someone to counter your constant state of panic. And where else would I have my eyes?”
“Oh, fuck me sideways, you shithead.” He hears you slap your palm to your face. “Pain in my ass.”
“You want me to pick you up, pretty girl? I bet that’d ease some of your stress.”
You sigh, all dramatic and high-pitched. Your heart is doing somersaults against your rib cage. That would help, actually. Then you don’t have to plan what time to leave, accommodate for traffic, shove all your shit in the car and let your thoughts engulf you on the ride over. 
“Y-yeah, fine. Whatever.”
Patrick knows that tone. “Hey. You know I’m gonna take care of you for real, right? That I just wanna see you and get you to be present for a little, yeah?”
Your voice softens. “I know, Patrick. Just let me pack an overnight bag, okay? And text me when you’re on the way.”
“Why don’t you pack a few extra things? You know, just in case you can’t get enough of me and need to stay a few more nights.”
You hang up the phone, leaving Patrick giggling to himself against his kitchen counter. 
————
Patrick’s lips are warm when he kisses both your cheeks in quick succession. “Hi, dove.” He takes your bag from your shoulder and walks off toward his bedroom, putting your things down next to his dresser. 
He’s back quicker than should be humanly possible, bringing that cocky ass smile with him. 
“So what, you come over and don’t even want a hug from your favorite person on the planet?”
You grin, and he flushes with excitement over that victory. “Oh, fuck off,” you say, walking into his arms. 
He smells faintly of nicotine and mints, probably those ones that Sonic gives you because he has a stockpile of them in his glove box.
His chest is firm and hot beneath you, and when you press your cheek to it your mind races with thoughts you don’t want it to have. So naturally, you pull away slightly, keeping your hands on his hips. It makes him bite his lip. 
“You smoke today?” you ask, raising a brow.
“Yeah, why, you want one?”
“You keep it up, I'm not gonna be able to hug my favorite person on the planet that much longer. Pretty pink lungs gonna fuck you over.”
He lowers his head and levels with you. “You want me to quit?”
“I can’t make you, Patrick.”
He bites the inside of his cheek. He loves how you say his name.
“Oh, you could make me do anything, baby.” His teeth shine at you, and you swat his stomach. You go to push him away but he grabs your waist and starts kissing all over your face, the top of your head, the tips of your ears. He does it again and again in an effort to make you laugh. 
When you feel his fingers dance at your sides you escape him, “Don’t fucking try it!”
When the laughter in the room dies out, Patrick takes your hand and walks you to the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll make you a drink.”
You sit on one of his two barstools, stifling a laugh at the pitiful creak it makes. “Do you even have anything other than beer or whiskey? Because I don’t want either of those.” 
Patrick opens the refrigerator, motioning as if he’s clutching an aching chest. “C’mon, angel, don’t hurt my feelings. You think I wouldn’t buy the things I know my baby likes?” 
You brace your elbows on the counter and try to peek in the fridge. It’s not necessary though because he’s pulling out a container of frozen strawberries for you to see. 
“You got me stuff for—” 
“Strawberry daiquiris? Duh.” 
He places two bottles of rum on the counter, one full and the other half empty. You watch as he moves around the kitchen, gathering up the parts to the blender, which are for some reason in different cabinets. He gets out these fancy glasses (his only ones) someone gave him one time. 
“And,” he starts, “I remembered that you like it with a little less rum than most recipes call for so you’ll actually enjoy it.”
You tilt your head at him. He’s so pretty and he remembered all that shit just for you. “Lean over here for a sec, Patrick.”
He does as you say without question, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose. He loves that. The first time you did it he tackled you and asked you to do it again and again. 
You kiss his forehead and then the back of this hand, because boys should have their hands kissed too. 
Patrick’s cheeks are on fire. You take his face in your hands and let your gaze travel over each and every one of his pretty freckles. Your thumb rubs across his bottom lip and he moves closer, desperate for you to do anything. To give him anything. 
“Thank you for bringing me over here just to liquor me up,” you quip, your smile growing fast, eyes crinkling with humor. 
He nips the palm of your hand. “Yep. Just hopin’ to get you relaxed enough so you’ll confess your love for me, princess.”
You move away from his grasp, grinning softly at him and thinking how easily you’d confess that to him anyway. “Get back to work now, Zweig. Your strawberries have captivated me. And the curly straws.” 
His laughter is contagious.
————
Two strawberry daiquiris, and some of Patrick’s later, your anxious brain has finally settled down. You feel completely calm, and being with him makes you feel so comfortable that you don’t worry about adapting to a new space.
You register that he’s been distracting you all evening. He made your favorite drink, he’s been showering you with affection, he put on an episode of Jeopardy because he knows you like that smart feeling you get when you answer a question right. 
You’re laying on his chest, one hand snaked up underneath his sweatshirt to rest on the soft of his stomach. His skin is unbelievably warm and your fingers run back and forth over the short trail of curls there. 
“Who is Donald Sutherland, dumbass,” you say, annoyed that no one knew who played Mr. Bennet in Joe Wright’s adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. 
Patrick’s hand pushes under your shirt and rests on your spine. He starts scratching your skin lightly, up and down, up and down. You blink up at him. “That feels good.”
“Yeah? All you gotta do is ask and I’ll do it.”
“Well, will you please keep scratching my back for me, Patrick? It’s very soothing. Keeps me present.”
“‘Course I will, angel.”
“I know you like your physical affection,” you say, squeezing his hip lovingly. He kisses the top of your head as if to confirm your statement. 
“Have I succeeded in providing an anxiety-free sleepover environment for my girl?”
You push up onto your elbows so you can make eye contact with him. He leans his head back a little bit, teasingly making himself look more serious as if you don’t always have his full attention. 
Your eyes move from his to his lips and back. You start to nod. “You have. It feels like all the outside stressors don’t exist here.”
Patrick leans into your hand when you put it against his cheek. He is beaming. 
“You wanna go to bed, dove?”
“Yes, please.”
Patrick heaves you upward and over his shoulder, making you howl with laughter. You both get ready for bed quietly, doing your respective routines and getting everything settled. 
You meet Patrick in bed, padding over to the mattress in your panties and a big t-shirt. Your hands are keeping the shirt pulled down on instinct, making it look like a dress. When he sees you, he thinks he might combust. It takes everything in him not to. 
You’re so fucking sweet and perfect and gorgeous and you’ve got no clue. And you’re in his bedroom, pushing onto his bed and laying with him. Him, of all people. 
You roll onto your side and face him. He’s a little stubbly and his curls are a mess, but somehow he looks more gorgeous like this than when he’s all prettied up. He smells like toothpaste and that Old Spice deodorant he uses. Your bare knee brushes his, but neither of you move away.
Your gaze falls on the only source of light in the room aside from the moon; the children’s night light that looks like a tennis ball. Art got him that as a Christmas gift, and Patrick would be lying if he said he didn’t actually like it. 
You move your hand close enough to his body that you can feel the warmth of him, but not enough that you make any more contact. 
“Patrick, I don’t think friends treat each other the way we treat each other.” You realize your fingers are trembling. 
His smile lines grow as a grin spreads across his face. “You think so?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from every word. 
You nod, still looking at the tennis ball. Then his fingers are on your chin, coaxing you into looking at him. “D-do you think we should be more than friends?” 
Patrick’s hand hasn’t left your face. His thumb traces over your eyebrow. “I think we already are.”
“Could we maybe m-make that definitive?”
“Is this you really confessing your love for me?”
You roll your eyes so hard you might as well have rolled out of the bed. “Fuck off.” You swat at his chest and attempt to move away from him. 
He’s laughing and then he’s pulling you flush against his body, securing you there with a firm arm around your back. “You want me to be your boyfriend, don’t you?”
“I hate you.”
“Well, yeah. And I want you to be my girlfriend, angel.”
“So I can make googly eyes at you as often as you do me now?”
He squeezes the fat of your hip. “Oh, you already do. You just don’t notice how obvious it is that you’re infatuated with me. You looked like you wanted to eat me alive in the kitchen earlier.”
“The bad part is that I know you’d let me.”
“So you don’t deny the allegations?” He holds his fist up to your mouth, mimicking a microphone. 
“No, Patrick. I do want you to be my boyfriend. And I want to do this all the time. I hate how easy you make everything.” He chuckles, biting his thumbnail. “It’s not natural to be this calm. And I hate that you’ve made me a sap.” His brow raises just before you continue, “I brought clothes for like, three nights.”
Patrick hugs you to him so quickly, laughing into your cool skin. 
“I fucking knew you would.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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