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#and all her own fault. icon
lostandbackagain · 1 year
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so fucking awesome that adsom ends with lila bravely not turning back and immediately almost dying. badly
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waddles-ex-machina · 10 months
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so was anyone going to tell me not to watch all the way through the credits sequence on season 3 because they include very specific credits for things from future episodes or was I supposed to simply get spoiled for 2 things myself 🥲
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scififettuccine · 3 months
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Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader
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Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀
Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???
Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.
It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.
"Hey there, kiddo!"
You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.
"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.
"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.
"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.
"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."
Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.
Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.
"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.
"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.
"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.
"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.
"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"
"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.
"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.
"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.
"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.
"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.
"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.
"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.
"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.
"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.
"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.
"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.
"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.
"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.
'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.
"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.
Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.
"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.
"I know."
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I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!
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mariasont · 4 months
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Please, Don't Prove 'Em Right - A.H
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a/n: my girl sabrina can do no wrong and i have been listening to this song on repeat since it came out so i just absolutely needed to write a fic about it
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events
warnings: angst (sorry in advance), aaron is like not a great husband, reader is also an imperfect character, reader is a girl boss though
wc: 1.2k
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You were in your best dress. More expensive than you'd ever think about buying for yourself, but it had been a gift from Aaron. You had fought him on it, scolding him for spending so much on a dress you were sure to only wear once. But he had insisted, telling you that this opportunity was once in a lifetime and that it would be a sin for it to not be celebrated with a dress that made you shine like a ruby.
He was right, partly, you were shining--glowing, sparkling, glittering--as you moved through the library. It was beautiful, to say the least--all opulence and history that was almost too much to absorb. The marble floors almost seemed to amplify the conversations around you, the clinking of glasses, the swish of overpriced gowns and tuxedos.
Your eyes settled on the tiered desks fitted with bronze reading lamps, now repurposed as a station for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The circular arrangement of desks, once centered around knowledge, now facilitated hushed gossip and the discreet laughter of society's finest.
You could almost hear what they were thinking: there she is again without her husband, that poor thing always by herself, and your personal favorite—does he even exist?
You wanted to be angry, to scold their prying eyes, for putting their noses into something that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But could you really blame them? Every event you attended you told the same story--my husband is a busy man with an important job--a line you had grown tired of repeating. 
And that was all true. He devoted most of his time to saving lives--how could you find fault in that? How could you complain to having a husband whose very essence was self-sacrifice and heroism?
This evening was set to be an exception; he was in New York for a case, and the Pulitzer Prize ceremony was not something he would miss. He had given you his word.
You understood his passion for his job, completely, because you held that same passion for your own. You dedicated years of your life to your journalism, investigating corruption at its highest levels. This is exactly how you ended up here tonight, nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for that very work. A Pulitzer Prize.
The term once seemed like a fantastical concept to you, a lofty accolade reserved for the likes of JFK, Bob Dylan, Robert Frost--icons, not someone as ordinary as you. Yet, against all odds, you find yourself among the select few, a nominee for an honor that has only been won by 1,512 individuals since 1917, a fact Spencer had supplied you with.
Someone was speaking to you, saying your name. Almost without thinking, your hand found a flute of champagne, taking a generous sip before turning to face them.
"You look stunning, and a well-deserved congratulations are in order. Everyone back at the office is cheering for you." It was your boss, her stilettos adding inches to her already imposing frame.
The flattery didn't quite mask her usual coldness, it was all too artificial. She wasn't your biggest fan, and she had made that clear from your first day. Still, you mustered a smile and thanked her anyway, taking another sip of champagne, hoping to drown away her nauseating voice.
"It's too bad your husband couldn't be here," she began, and you had to resist the urge to rip out her extensions. "This is an incredible accomplishment, but he's quite the busy man, as you say."
"Yes, he is busy, but he'll be here tonight," you replied, flashing her your best smile as you smoothed the red fabric that suddenly felt too tight. "He's actually here in New York on a case."
"Oh, how great. I can't wait to put a face to the name." You could tell by the look she shot her own husband that she didn't believe a word from your mouth. "Anyway, I have to go speak with an academy representative, but I'll see you and your husband at the ceremony?"
You responded with a nod, not dignifying her with words as she left, her giggles a bitter sound. You hated her. And you were ready to make her eat her words when your husband, who looked absolutely incredibly in a suit, showed up.
But then it was dinner, and you found yourself alone, surrounded by a table of important people whose names you couldn't remember. The seat beside you was empty and suddenly that omnipotent, cloud-nine feeling you had vanished with the time that passed.
The text you sent piled up, feeling a little juvenile, like you were back in high school again getting stood up at prom.
Let me know when you're close!
Is everything going okay?
Call me if you can.
An onslaught of anxious thoughts skyrocketed around your mind as you mechanically chewed the fancy food that only seemed to upset your stomach further. What if something happened? Was he okay? Did the case go wrong? Did he get in a car accident on the way here?
You were a bundle of nerves, gnawing on the inside of your mouth as your heel tapped up and down against the floor. But this wasn't borne from concern for his well-being; deep down, you were certain he was fine. The truth was simpler and sharper: he wasn't coming.
You should have been prepared, should have braced for this, but you were convinced that this time, this occasion would be an exception.
You name was being called, but this time not by someone wanting to extract prying information or stir speculation, no, this time it was carried across the crowed, wrapped in the microphone's static hum.
Your head snapped up, fingers ceasing their fidgeting as you struggled to mask the shock and avoid the gaping, breathless look of a fish out of water.
You had won.
People were clapped, but it seemed far away as you made your way to the stage, hands coming from all directions to offer pats on the back and handshakes of congratulations.
You had won.
Your feet were carrying you up a small set of stairs. You were trying to remember how to walk--left, right, heel, toe. There was a bright light on you now, prompting a slight squint and you worked to keep a smile on your face as you accepted the award.
You had to be dreaming. Had to be. There was no other explanation.
You were on display now, under the intense stage lights. Your body was on autopilot, stepping behind the podium, words flowing out of your mouth--a speech you had rehearsed over and over again in the slim chance that you would win. And here you are.
But the more you spoke the more you seemed to deviate from the script.
You paused, voice catching as you tried your best not to let the tears fall--your makeup was too pristine for smears.
"But tonight, as I accept this honor, I am reminded that while we may seek comfort in the presence of others, our truest strength comes from within." Your eyes dart around the audience, clinging to the slim chance he's there, that he showed up. "It comes from knowing that when we step into the moment, we step in with conviction, with passion, and sometimes, with a singularity that says we are enough."
The final words of your speech hang in the air, a brittle hope that disappears as quickly as it surfaced. He proved them right, and no amount of applause can drown out the sound of your heart breaking just a little.
part 2
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taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179
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gammasnippets · 7 months
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Drive T
SNSD Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader
12,260 words (Co-edited by @capslocked and @sparkynsfws)
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Wimbledon—one of the most prestigious tennis tournaments in the world, known for its rich history and iconic traditions. It's the highlight of the tennis season, where the best players from around the globe compete for the coveted title on the hallowed grass courts of the All England Club. This is where names are made, and where legends are born. From casual fans to hardcore tennis enthusiasts, everyone is eager to witness the thrilling matches and the breathtaking displays of skill the players unleash on the courts. And with only a few months to prepare, you do your best to be in your best physical and mental condition for the coming tournament.
That is… If you're one of the qualifying players.
Something suddenly hits your head, snapping you out of your daydreaming. It was a tennis ball, rolling down your face. It's not even a hard hit, but it sure is enough to knock you back to reality. You then scan the tennis court looking for the culprit. Not far from you stands a woman, one hand on her racket and the other on her hip, and she doesn't look pleased.
"Hey! Quit your daydreaming, will you?" says the woman, sounding annoyed.
"That was uncalled for, you know?" you retort as you rub the point of impact, a spark of irritation in your voice.
"I just finished warming up here and the next thing I know, you're in your own world!" she snaps back, clearly unapologetic for her errant shot.
"Well, if only you didn't arrive late, we could've started our practice session on time," you reply, trying to maintain your composure.
The woman doesn't seem to like your response and walks towards you, her face slowly turning red.
"So it's my fault that you scheduled our practice session at such an inconvenient time?"
"What? You told me that you're only available today and that you really wanted to practice," you protest, feeling both confused and frustrated.
"At fucking midnight?" she exclaims, raising her voice.
"Well, it's only an hour after…"
"11 PM, 12 AM… Whatever! It's late in the evening, you dumbass!"
She kinda has a point. Despite the great discount you received for renting the tennis court at nighttime, you begin to realize that scheduling a session close to midnight wasn't the wisest decision.And she has every right to be angry about the inconvenience.
You take a step back, realizing that this argument is getting out of hand.
"Alright, alright… I'm sorry, Taeyeon-noona. I should've checked with you first."
To your relief, her anger softens slightly, and she sighs.
"Well, we're way past that now. Might as well make use of the time while we're here."
"Thanks for understanding…"
"Just don't you ever do this again," she says as she points her racket at you, her tone still sharp. "Or I'll make sure to hit you harder next time."
"Okay. I get it," you reply, feeling intimidated by her fiery demeanor.
You were always intimidated by Taeyeon's fiery demeanor. As your former teacher and tennis club advisor, she's known to be as strict and disciplined. You can't forget the torture she put you through, but that didn't sway you from leaving the sport you're passionate about. And for better, or more likely worse, you and Taeyeon are still in touch after all these years. Maybe you could've found a better partner, but you've never been more comfortable with anyone else other than her.
You and Taeyeon proceed to continue your practice session on the tennis court. Both of you are determined to make the most of the remaining time and improve your skills, ignoring the tension that still lingers in the air. The court fills with the sound of powerful swings, focused footwork, and the occasional grunt of exertion as you both push yourselves to the limit. Well-deserved breaks are taken to catch your breath, sip some water, and exchange a few friendly jokes amidst the intensity.
After a few rounds of intense practice, the two of you decide to take a much longer break.
"Fuck… I need a break," you pant, collapsing onto a nearby bench.
"Jeez. You're tired already?" Taeyeon teases you, as desperate for air as you are.
"You're the one to talk," you retorted, throwing the tease back at her.
"Well, you're the one who keeps on making me run all over the court!" she grumbles as she retires beside you, pouting her lips.
"You gotta do what you gotta do," you reply, smirking.
"Yet I still won," she boasts, a smug grin spreading across her face.
"I only let you win, you know?" you shrug nonchalantly.
Taeyeon laughs out loud at your cocky remark.
"As if! You always trip when you're returning my drop shots."
"Hey… It only happened once."
"More like twice!"
You raise your hands in mock surrender.
"Okay… It happened twice. Happy now?"
"You bet," she continues to laugh. "God, that was funny."
Taeyeon can't help but giggle at your mistakes during the game. As much as you find her laughter infectious, her teasing you might have hit a nerve. You want to retaliate by telling her how equally awful she was at returning her serves. But maybe she deserves this after the earlier exchange.
"So, wanna do a few more rounds?" you propose to Taeyeon, eager to win against her.
"Already? Can't we relax a bit more?" she asks, her body still slumped against the bench.
"Come on. We still have a lot of time left," you urge her, giving her a good nudge with your elbow.
"Exactly! Can't we use the time to rest longer?" she complains, faking an exhausted expression.
You sneer at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Noona, please. Don't be such a baby. You're too old for that," you tell her.
She then lets out a loud gasp. You obviously hit a nerve.
"Hey! I'm not old, you fuck!" she exclaims, raising her voice.
You chuckle. "Yeah, but you're definitely older than me."
"I'm only 34!" she yells, her cheeks turning slightly red.
"You can even pass as my aunt," you joke, unable to resist pushing her buttons even further.
In a hurry, she ejects herself from the bench, ready to argue back.
"Listen here, you little shit. You can joke all you want, but I can kick your ass right here, right now."
Seems like your teasing had the wrong effect on Taeyeon. As if a fuse inside her was lit, she's ready to fight you with words, fists, and probably anything else she can get her hands on.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," you apologize, trying to appease her.
But Taeyeon's not having it, and she's still fuming.
"That's not gonna cut it, you asshole," she continues to rant. "Y'know what? Let's make this interesting."
You don't know what's going through her head, but whatever it is, you don't like it.
"What? Interesting, how?"
"Since you think I'm such a weak old lady, even though I've beaten you many times…"
"We're almost even," you interject, but she's quick to cut you off.
"Shut up! You're not helping your case," she barks, glaring at you.
You shut your mouth and let her finish.
"Anyway, I bet I can beat you in a singles match," she declares, her tone serious.
The proposition sounds appealing to you, but it does feel like you're being manipulated.
"You can't be serious, right?"
"Do I look like I'm not?"
You scan her face carefully. Her expression doesn't waver and looks dead serious. You begin to regret messing with her earlier, and you're unsure what to say next.
"Well?" she asks again, expecting a clear answer.
You can't help but let out a deep sigh.
"Okay… What's on the line, then?"
"The loser has to follow the winner's every command."
You're a little taken aback by the wager, not because it's particularly absurd, but rather that you can't believe how quickly she's able to come up with this kind of proposition.
"That… That's quite a bold bet," you say, feeling a bit intimidated by the conditions.
"Are you backing out already? I thought you're a better player than that."
"No, I'm not! I'm just… Surprised," you stutter, unsure if you're able to take the challenge.
"Don't be such a chicken," she taunts you, a devilish smirk forming on her lips.
The teaser now becomes teased, and her expression is the one that you would never want to see. She's ready to fight you, and not just with her words. You can sense her desire for victory emanating out of her, and that scares the hell out of you.
Suddenly, immense pressure is crushing you down, and you begin to doubt yourself. Taeyeon's always been a formidable player, even with her age and size. If it weren't for her teaching you, you wouldn't have learned all the tricks that you've used to win many matches. You start to regret your decision to play with her, and you have no choice but to swallow the lump in your throat.
"Alright… You've got a deal," you agree, taking the challenge.
She gives a smug grin.
"That's what I wanted to hear," she chuckles. "Well, we've got plenty of time. Shall we have a nice game?"
"I guess so…"
The two of you prepare for the match, putting your rackets and other equipment away. As you're preparing, a thought pops into your mind, and you have a burning question to ask Taeyeon.
"You do realize that a singles match is longer than doubles, right?"
"Well, we can adjust the rules. This isn't an official match, after all."
"Alright. So how do you want to do this? Best out of three sets?"
"Sounds fair enough."
With the agreement, you and Taeyeon prepare to take the court once again. Both of you are determined to win and get the advantage over the other.
You set off the game with your first serve, hitting a fastball to the far corner of the service box. Taeyeon returns with a strong swing, hitting a high-speed shot that you're unable to defend. She takes the first point.
"Shit," you curse under your breath, as the scoreboard shows 15-0.
You try not to lose your focus as you return to the baseline and prepare for the next serve.
You decide to be more careful, not wanting to repeat the same mistake. Your next serve is a lot slower and hits the back of the service box. Taeyeon's return is weaker, allowing you to defend easily. With the advantage, you go on the offense and score a point.
"Yes!" you celebrate, pumping your fist.
"Hey. Not bad," Taeyeon concedes, not wanting to praise you.
"You can't expect me to let you have the advantage all the time," you brag, not letting her dampen your spirit.
"Try me."
Those two words somehow have a strange effect on you, and your confidence quickly wavers.
You try to be a little bit more aggressive on your next serve, and she's forced to make a mistake, throwing the ball off bounds. The score is now tied at 15-30.
The two of you continue your game, fighting tooth and nail to get the advantage. You give your best and so does her. Neither of you are willing to let the other gain any sort of upper hand.
The score eventually reads 40-30, with Taeyeon holding the lead. A single point would end the set and give her a huge advantage.
The volleys between you and Taeyeon are fast and aggressive, but with a strong swing, she manages to catch you off guard, scoring the winning point. She wins the first set.
She cheers at her victory, a wide grin spread across her face.
"Not bad. Didn't think I'd get the first point, huh?"
"Yeah, but the first set doesn't matter," you retort, not wanting to get discouraged.
"Is that so, hotshot? You can try."
You grit your teeth, and you're not sure whether Taeyeon's taunt was meant to annoy you, but her words had its desired effect. You're now ready to prove her wrong and win the second set.
She starts off the second set, preparing for her next serve.
"Let's see if you can return this one," she challenges you with a sly smile on her face.
"Bring it," you reply, your focus unwavering.
Taeyeon lets out a fast serve, aiming for the corner of the service box. Luckily for you, you manage to read her serve and position yourself perfectly to return it with a strong forehand. A few quick exchanges later, you score with a cross-court shot to start the second set with a point in your favor.
It's now your turn to serve. You perform a tricky flat serve, hoping to catch Taeyeon off guard. She anticipates your serve, returning it with a well-placed backhand slice that lands just over the net. In your hesitation to reach the ball, you mistakenly returned it too high and Taeyeon seizes the opportunity, smashing with a powerful overhead shot. The score is now tied at 15-15 in the second set.
You didn't let this setback discourage you. Instead, you double down on your serve, determined to not repeat the same mistake. Taeyeon is also focused and prepared to return your next serve.
With a swift motion, you throw another fast serve, and Taeyeon returns it with a powerful forehand, forcing you to make a mistake. But you managed to return the ball at an awkward angle, giving her a difficult ball to return. You seize the opportunity and score the next point.
The tension between you and Taeyeon is at an all-time high as the second set moves closer to its conclusion. Each point is fought fiercely, and there are a lot of close calls. Neither of you is willing to concede even a single point.
With both of you on the verge of exhaustion, the match is now coming down to the wire.
The score is now 15-40. You need a single point to win the second set.
You have the opportunity to serve. Taeyeon prepares herself, ready to receive your next serve.
"Here goes," you mutter, trying to psych yourself up. With a powerful serve, you launch the ball over the net. You watch anxiously as the ball flies toward the opposite side of the court. She reacts quickly, running towards the ball and returning with a strong forehand. You are forced to return the ball with a lob.
In the air, the ball curves towards the left, landing just outside the lines. You can only hope that Taeyeon isn't able to return it. But with her usual finesse, she returns the ball with a backhand lob, landing just in front of you. It's your turn to seal the deal with a powerful backhand of your own that hits the corner of the court, earning you the final point of the second set.
You try to keep your composure despite the win, but deep down you're ecstatic.
"Nice job," she compliments you.
You only give her a nod in return.
"So, shall we start the last set?"
"Yeah. Let's."
The chill of the midnight air dissipates as the final set begins. With both of you equally fired up and determined to win, you prepare for the final round.
This is it. The last set of the match. There's no time to lose.
You take the serve, performing a tricky jump serve that she struggles to defend. With a powerful swing, you hit a fastball that she's unable to return. You take the first point.
Taeyeon's serving next. With a fast serve, she catches you off guard and you're unable to defend her serve. The score is now 15-15 in the final set.
The pressure is mounting on you as the set progresses. You want to win. You both do. But there's something in her that drains you of your will. You're not sure if she's just playing a good mind game, or if she really has the upper hand.
The turn to serve goes back to you. You're determined not to let Taeyeon get a free pass. With a slow flat serve, you try to catch her off guard. She returns it with a well-timed forehand. You quickly move towards the ball and return it with a sharp topspin that lands just inside the line. She's unable to return the ball and you score a point.
The score is now 30-15 in your favor. The momentum is shifting in your direction. But it feels as though it isn't.
Taeyeon's serving next, and she looks determined to break the momentum. She hits a fast serve, hoping to catch you off guard. You return it with a powerful forehand. But her next shot is even faster, hitting a topspin that forces you to return it with a weak lob.
At that point, she brandishes her trademark move.
She rushes towards the ball, winding up for a smash. You prepare yourself to counter her attack… Only for Taeyeon to swing her racket sideways as it falls down, hitting the ball with a strong topspin. In a rush, you chase after the ball, but it bounces erratically, almost at a 90-degree angle. Before you can do anything, the ball lands outside the line.
“Drive T” is what she calls it. Not only does she swings her arms in a T shape, but the topspin she generates causes the ball to draw a cross, or rather a small letter T, as it bounces uncontrollably on the court. It’s a move that is very hard to predict, both to the players and spectators alike. You’ve seen her used that technique on many occasions, both to intimidate her opponents and to finish the game quickly. It is her dangerous weapon.
And she just used it against you.
Your jaw hangs open in shock. You can't believe she did that.
"Now that's a topspin!" Taeyeon boasts, laughing.
As much as you want to respond to her, you're not sure if you can. As "friendly" as this game is, you can't help but feel a creeping sense of dread at how serious this is turning out.
The score is now tied 30-30. The tension is getting even higher, and your mind is racing. You want to win. You need to win.
You take a deep breath as you prepare for your next serve. As calm as you can be, you send the ball towards her with a powerful serve that sails all the way to the other end of the net. But with her quick reflexes, Taeyeon effortlessly returns the serve with a perfectly executed backhand. You send it back with a swift backhand of your own, making her chase the ball towards the sideline. She manages to get to the ball just in time, and with a flick of her wrist, she sends a sharp topspin towards your corner.
Your heart races as you anticipate the spin and speed of the approaching ball, adjusting your movement to counter her shot with a controlled forehand. However, as you send the ball back, she has positioned herself near the net, swinging it downwards with incredible power and speed. You already put all your strength in returning the previous shot that you have no more time left to react accordingly, making the ball slip past you and land out of your reach.
Taeyeon grunts with satisfaction as her shot gives her a crucial point, bringing the score to 40-30 in her favor.
You curse under your breath, realizing that you may have bit off more than you can chew. But you have no option to back down now. All that's left is to turn the tables and win.
You take another deep breath as you wait for her to make her next move.
Your eyes remain locked on Taeyeon as she prepares to serve, her intense focus indicating that she's not going to make this easy for you. What happens next is like a blur as the ball immediately zooms towards you the moment she tosses it into the air, not even letting it wait for gravity to pull it down. With her on match point, she has all the reasons to end this game as quickly as possible.
You quickly run to intercept the ball, swatting it with a powerful forehand. She stays on her toes, moving swiftly to return your shot with a skillful backhand slice that barely clears the net. The distance is quite the challenge, but it's something you can still manage. You make a sprint towards the net, just in time to hit it back with a drop shot that catches Taeyeon off guard. With her nimble feet, she manages to reach the ball, though she has to dive in for the last few inches just to keep the rally going. And with a desperate lob, she sends the ball soaring high into the air, giving you enough time to deliver a crushing overhead smash that lands just inside the baseline, completely out of Taeyeon's reach.
As the ball connects with the court, a sense of triumph washes over you, pumping your fist in the air. You managed to buy yourself some room to breathe in this fiery match and gain a much-needed point, leveling the score at 40-40. Taeyeon recovers herself from her dive, letting out a sigh as she recovers her breathing. You're exhausted yourself, struggling to catch your breath after the intense rally. But there's no time to rest. You lock eyes with her, both of your eyes burning with determination to win over the other. The next serve could very well be the turning point of the entire match.
Once again, it's your turn to serve. Everything is suddenly hazy as if the world around you blurs into a complete mess of colors. All that's clear in your eyes are the ball in your hands, the lines on the court, and the woman in front of you. It could be the adrenaline. It could be the fear of losing. It could be anything. But none of that matters. Send the ball her way, swing it back if she dares to return it, repeat.
The next few rounds are nothing but intense back-and-forth as you and Taeyeon fight for every point. The ball flies across the court in a flurry of precise shots and strategic placement. You're tired as hell, and maybe, so is she. But neither of you can afford to let up even for a moment, not even an inch, as the score remains neck and neck.
After a few deuces and grueling rallies, the tension on the court reaches its peak. She has managed to bring the score to what could potentially be the final point of the entire match. You're both sweating profusely, your bodies glistening under the harsh stadium lights. The cold air that should be a reprieve feels suffocating against your heated skin. She could be on her last legs, but you're kind of on the same page.
You prepare yourself as Taeyeon prepares her to serve, her eyes locked on yours like a hawk, unwavering and intense. Her serve is swift, darting through the air with deadly accuracy. You react quickly, heading forward to meet the ball with a powerful forehand return. She then easily steps into position, returning the ball with a soft backhand shot. You match her shot with a well-executed slice, aiming to throw her off balance. But she still manages to reach the ball with a quick flick of her wrist, sending it sailing over the net with surprising speed and precision.
As the ball hurtles towards you, you summon every ounce of your pent-up aggression to smack the ball back with an explosive topspin shot, making the ball draw a sharp curve towards the sideline. This is all you have left. You can feel your strength draining as you shout your heart out with that final, desperate shot.
Unfortunately… Your tough opponent, Taeyeon, is right there, ready and waiting.
In a matter of seconds, the distance between her and the ball closes as she lunges forward, her body contorting with the grace and agility of a seasoned athlete. And as she swings her racket in a cross through the air, you know that she isn't just going to return the ball - she's sealing the deal with her Drive T. She hits the ball with such power that it spins wildly as soon as it's airborne. You watch it making its landing not far from you and with your heart pounding, you scramble to retrieve it. But with the ball's unpredictable spin, it bounces away from you instead of it landing in your control.
And as the ball bounces down to a stop, Taeyeon wins the match, winning 2 sets to 1.
"Yay! I won!"
She screams in joy and hops up and down with excitement as if all her exhaustion has instantly evaporated. Meanwhile, you collapse to the ground, completely outplayed and spent. As she celebrates her victory, she notices that you've been anchored to the ground. She makes her way towards you, skipping lightly in joy.
Trying not to feel bitter about your defeat, you raise your hand, giving her a thumbs up and a genuine smile. She responds in kind, before extending her hand to help you up.
"Well, looks like you took the match. That was nice," you say as you sit up, catching your breath as you try to compose yourself after the intense match.
"Thanks. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just need a moment to recover. My legs feel like they're burning, though."
"Oh. Same here… But I'm good."
"Damn. How do you even do that?"
"I told you many times to work on your legs! I always tell you to do more than just jog," she scolds you as if losing to her wasn't enough.
"Alright, alright," you reply, rolling your eyes. "I'll start next week."
"Well you better be," she chuckles, tapping her racket lightly against your shoulder.
You chuckle amidst the exhaustion, the frustration you felt at losing to Taeyeon fading away.
"So, is that your dare for me?" you ask her.
"Hmmm?"
"You won, right?"
"Oh! Right! The bet!" Taeyeon's eyes then widened in realization.
You shake your head lightly, amused by her sudden forgetfulness.
"And you still deny that you're old—ow!"
She smacks you again with her racket, albeit harder this time.
"What did I just say about calling me old?"
"Okay, okay! Jeez, what a killjoy," you mutter, rubbing your shoulder.
"What was that?" she taunts, preparing to hit you again.
"Nothing! I said nothing," you quickly respond, trying to diffuse the situation.
"Good!" she exclaims, giggling.
"Now, what do you want me to do?" you repeat, trying not to provoke her.
Her attitude changes quickly.
"You're actually gonna go through with it?"
"I mean, you won, so…"
"Are you sure?"
"Come on, just tell me what you want me to do," you urge her.
She pauses for a moment, contemplating the terms of her victory.
"Well, since I beat you pretty badly…"
"That was close," you protest, only to earn a glare from her.
"It wasn't. Now shut up and listen."
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.
"Y'know what? You look like a tired mess right there. Let's head over to the bench and I'll think of a good prize."
"But my body's still—"
She lets out a loud, exasperated sigh.
"Alright. Get up, you lousy ass," she extends her hand, offering to pull you up.
You take it and let her lead the way to the benches. It's not that far, but the short walk to the benches is enough to make your knees wobble and legs ache. The two of you collapse onto the bench, finally able to relax and rest for a bit.
"Jeez, I didn't think the match was gonna be that hard. You did really well," she says, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder.
"Well… I was against you, after all. Of course, it'll be hard," you respond, your tone slightly annoyed.
"Hey! Don't get me wrong. It's still a nice game."
"I guess. Thanks," you say, shrugging.
A moment of silence ensues, and the two of you sit quietly, basking in the cool air. Despite feeling sore, a little break is all you need to recharge after the intense game. You then look at Taeyeon, and she doesn't seem to show any signs of exhaustion, despite sweating profusely and having her breath ragged after the match.
"Say, how come you don't look as tired as I am?" you ask her, breaking the silence.
"Well, for starters, I've got a lot more years of experience than you," she quips, grinning smugly.
You roll your eyes and sigh, too tired to give a smart retort.
"But seriously, though. You should take better care of your body. You're still young," she says, her tone sounding more like a concerned mother than a friend.
"You've been saying that for a while now," you grumble.
"Well, that's because I was your teacher! Jeez! Don't be so stubborn," she protests, giving your shoulder a light shove.
"I'm not being stubborn. I'm just tired," you then let out another deep breath. "You took all the air out of me"
"Exactly. And that's why I'm telling you to take care of your body better," she says, her tone firm.
"Okay, fine," you concede.
"Now, shall we move on?"
"Sure. Let's talk about my dare," you say, eager to finally know what she wants.
"Right. Are you sure you're in on this?"
"I'm sure. Yeah," you assure her.
"100%? No take-backs, okay?"
"If it's not anything too extreme."
"Don't worry. It's nothing like that."
You look at her, and she smirks at you. Something tells you that you'll regret this, but curiosity gets the better of you.
"Fine. Shoot it."
"Pull down your shorts."
Your jaw hangs open. You expected her to ask for a silly dare, like a funny photo or something along those lines. But this? You didn't expect this at all.
"H-huh? W-what did you just say?" you stammer, your cheeks burning red.
"Come on. It's not gonna kill you."
"But… That's—"
"Just a little fun, really."
You're speechless, your eyes wide as you process the words.
"I… I don't think I can do that."
"Hey. The deal was the loser has to do everything the winner asks, right? You lost. So, do it."
You swallow the lump in your throat and sigh. There's no getting around this.
"Okay… Fine," you reluctantly agree, slowly sliding down your shorts.
The fabric brushes against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Your heart beats fast, your palms sweating profusely as you slowly reveal more and more of your bare thighs. Your boxers are the only thing separating your modesty from the woman sitting beside you, and you can't deny her the sight of your growing erection.
Taeyeon's lips curl into a satisfied grin, and she bites her lower lip as she sees the tent forming between your legs.
"You're really turned on by this, huh?" she says, teasing you.
"It… It's not like that, I swear."
"Sure, whatever you say," she giggles.
"So… Is this it? Did I pass the dare?" you ask, trying to change the subject.
"Well, technically… But now I'm interested in something else," she replies, her voice dropping an octave.
"And? What would that be?"
"Let's just say I want to see what's underneath those boxers."
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, and you instinctively cross your legs.
"Noona… There could be people watching us," you tell her, scanning the entire area.
"It's 3 AM. Do you think those guards will even bother walking around at this hour? No one's gonna see," she reasons.
"But…"
"The deal?"
"Okay, fine. I'll do it."
Slowly, you take a deep breath and reach down for your boxers.
"Ugh… What am I doing?" you mumble, cursing at yourself.
You grab the hem and pull down the fabric grazing against your shaft. Your erection springs up, freed from the confines of your underwear.
"Wow. Now that's quite a view," Taeyeon chuckles, ogling your exposed member.
You turn away, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.
"I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Hey. Don't be. Especially when you have this…" she bites her lip, her eyes fixated on your dick. "Big thing right there."
Your cheeks burn a bright red, and you feel like you could explode.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"Of course not! Come on, you can't tell me it's not hot."
You stay silent, unable to answer.
"Alright. Lemme suck that," she says, leaning in closer to you.
"W-what? Y-you can't be serious!"
"Hey. No take-backs."
"But this is—"
"Listen. You clearly look like you're not in on this."
"I… I didn't say that…"
"So? What's with the hesitation?"
"I-it's just that… This is kind of sudden," you reply, unable to think straight.
"Then let me ease you into it," she says, grabbing your dick with her hand.
Your breath hitches, the sudden contact of her soft hand against your sensitive shaft taking you by surprise. She slowly moves her hand up and down, gently massaging your dick. You can't help but let out a low moan as her fingers run across the tip, sending shivers down your spine.
"How does that feel?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I-I don't know…" you manage to say, your mind in a daze.
She smirks at your reaction, totally getting turned on by your response.
"You did your best so… I'll give you a consolation prize."
"H-huh? What do you mean?"
Before you can say anything, she leans in, her face just inches away from your cock.
"Wait… You can't be serious. You're going to—"
"Let me give you a little treat. You can tell me to stop after, but I hope you won't,” she says, her warm breath brushing against your shaft. “It'll be a shame, really,"
You're speechless, your mouth hanging open as you stare at her in disbelief.
"Well, here I go," she announces, leaning forward and enveloping your cock with her lips.
The sudden warmth sends a shock through your body, and you let out a moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. She starts sucking on the tip, and her tongue swirls around the head, lapping up the beads of precum. You can't believe it, but it feels so good. Your breathing quickens as she continues to suck, taking your dick deeper into her mouth. She moans against your cock, and you can feel her voice vibrating through your shaft.
"Oh, fuck…" you curse, the pleasure driving you insane.
She then grabs the base of your shaft with her hand and starts stroking you in sync with her mouth. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but grab a fistful of her hair, gripping it tightly. She picks up the pace, her hand moving faster as her head bobs up and down. Her eyes lock with yours, and she's clearly enjoying this. You can see the lust in her eyes, and it's all too much for you.
The pressure builds up, your mind goes blank, and all you can think about is the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your muscles tense up, and before you know it, your body starts shaking uncontrollably. You can feel your balls tightening, and the urge to cum is overwhelming.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"
With one final thrust, you unload your seed into her mouth. Taeyeon suddenly looks surprised as you unleash a torrent of cum, filling her mouth. She then pulls out, coughing, the excess dripping down her chin.
"Sorry! I didn't know if you were ready," you apologize, worried that you might have forced her.
She continues to cough, and she wipes the excess cum off her face, taking a moment to catch her breath.
"It's okay. I was kinda taken by surprise, but it's fine," she manages to say, giving you a reassuring smile.
"I'm so sorry. I just couldn't hold it any longer," you apologize again, embarrassed by what happened.
"I told you it's okay," she tells you.
"Well… If you say so."
"And besides… It's not every day that I get to do it with a virgin," she winks as she lets out a soft laugh.
"Hey! I'm no virgin!" you protest, trying to defend your ego.
"Is that so?" she teases, raising an eyebrow playfully.
"I… I've experienced this before," you mutter.
"Sure, and that's why I got a mouthful," she chuckles, licking her lips.
"I was… I was holding out!" you retort.
"But of course," she laughs. "Just admit that you're a total virgin."
You're left speechless, unable to defend yourself. She just grins at you, clearly amused by your reaction. You want to say something, but she has you beat.
"Alright… Off to the next one!" she then exclaims, looking rather excited.
"Next one?"
"You didn't think I was just gonna leave you like this, did you? We're just getting started," she winks, giving your dick a squeeze.
"Wait, what?"
"That was just the warm-up. I have a lot of other things planned for us."
"Like what?"
"Let's just say this is gonna be the night of your life. And by the time the sun rises, you'll be thanking me,"
"I'm not so sure about this…"
"Trust me. I know what I'm doing," she reassures you, flashing you a devious smile.
She lets go of your dick. You feel relieved that her tight grip is no longer on your throbbing cock, but also a bit disappointed at the loss of her warm touch. She then takes off her clothes, exposing her voluptuous body. Her breasts are barely covered by an orange lace bra, and her hips are accentuated by a matching thong. You gulp as you take in the sight, and you can feel your dick getting even harder.
"What's wrong? Getting nervous?" she asks, giggling.
"Uh, yeah. This is really sudden. I'm not sure what's going on," you admit, unable to look away from her gorgeous body.
"Come on, it's nothing you can't handle. Just enjoy it," she says, grabbing your hand and placing it on her waist.
You can't deny the electricity that runs through your body the moment her skin makes contact with yours. Her body is so soft and warm, and it feels so good to touch her. It's intoxicating at the least, and you can't help but be swept up by the moment.
"Now, I'll let you have a taste of my body. You better make the most of it," she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear.
You let out a soft moan, the sensation driving you wild.
"So? What are you waiting for?"
"I…"
"It's okay. You can touch me," she assures you, guiding your hands towards her breasts.
"But, Noona…"
"Touch me more."
You hesitate for a moment, but she urges you on, and you give in.
Your fingers trace the outline of her bra, feeling her erect nipples through the fabric. As if by instinct, you gently squeeze her breasts, eliciting a moan from her.
"Mmmh… That's it. More," she purrs, arching her back.
Your heart races as her breasts push against your palms, her nipples rubbing against the thin material of her bra. The friction feels incredible, and the pleasure drives you crazy. You're not sure how much longer you can hold out, but you don't want it to end.
"You're so cute. You look like you're enjoying this," she teases, smiling.
Guilty as charged.
"Just relax. I'll take care of everything."
She then presses her lips against yours, her tongue pushing past your lips. Your tongues dance, and you savor her sweet taste. She then nibbles on your lower lip, and you can't help but moan.
"Nggh! Noona, wait," you breathe out, pulling away from her.
"Hmm? What's wrong?"
"I… I think this is too fast."
She giggles. "Awh. Poor thing."
She then cups your face with her hand and kisses you again, a much slower, passionate kiss this time. You feel her smile against your lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. It feels so good, so addicting. Yet you don't want to admit it.
"Taeyeon-noona, I…"
"Do you want to take it slow?"
You only gave her a nod.
"There. Just tell me what you want."
She then reaches back and unhooks her bra, tossing it to the side. Her bare breasts glisten under the dim lighting, and you can't help but stare in awe.
"There. I hope this evens us out," she smirks. You can see her cheeks blushing as she puts her magnificent assets on full display.
"Y-you don't have to, y'know? I'm fine with—"
Before you can utter another word, she pulls you towards her, pressing your face against her plump, supple breasts. Muffled, you try to push back, but she holds you firmly against her, not letting go. The warmth of her skin and the softness of her breasts overwhelm your senses, slowly melting your hesitations away.
Before you know it, you feel your hands explore the rest of her exposed body, gliding across everything you can reach.
She can't help but laugh and moan simultaneously as you explore her body.
"Getting braver, aren’t we?"
You choose not to answer and instead let your actions speak for you.
Taeyeon's skin feels so soft and smooth, and it's a wonder to touch. You can't help but want to touch her even more, to explore every inch of her. You suck on her erect nipples, and her breath hitches, letting out a soft moan.
"That's it. Take it all in," she whispers, running her fingers through your hair.
Your heart races as her scent fills your nose, and it's driving you crazy. You can't help but want more, and you feel yourself getting lost in the moment.
"Taeyeon-noona…"
"Shhhh… Don't say a word. Just enjoy it," she replies, her voice low and seductive.
Obliging, you continue to taste her, relishing in the sweet, salty taste of her skin. Your hands travel across her body, touching every inch of her. She bites her lip and arches her back as you trace the curve of her spine, and her breathing quickens as you explore her thighs.
"Oh, fuck…" she breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper.
Your hands then find their way to her butt, and you squeeze her cheeks, feeling the soft, firm flesh in your hands. She looks at you with lustful eyes, and you can see the desire written all over her face.
"Oh, my… You're getting good at this," she purrs, smiling seductively.
You blush slightly, her compliment clearly lifting your confidence. You shoot a smile back at her, fueled with confidence and hunger for more. She smirks at your newfound boldness, welcoming your hunger with equal enthusiasm.
Your lips lock with hers for another round of torrid passion, the heat between your bodies intensifying with each passing second. Your tongues dance in a fiery tango, exploring every crevice and making each other elicit a fervent moan. Neither of you is backing down, eager to win over the other as if your earlier spar wasn't enough.
"Noona, you're… Amazing," you manage to gasp between heated kisses, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
She smirks. "You're no slouch either."
"But, you… I…"
"Mhhh… Don't stop now," Taeyeon whispers, her voice dripping with need.
"But let me just…" you struggle to remove your shirt despite the urgency of the moment.
With her expert guidance, you quickly shed your shirt and throw it aside, giving your partner an unobstructed view of your bare chest.
"There we go. Better?"
"Yeah. You were on top of me so I had trouble taking it off." you jest, a playful smirk spreading across your face.
She then chuckles, hitting you playfully on the shoulder.
"And you blame me for that?"
"Why not? You keep on pushing me down."
"Jeez… I'm not that heavy, you know?"
"I know, I know. You're just so aggressive," you tease, running your fingers through her skin.
Taeyeon coos at your touch, her body pulsating with desire.
"Hmmm? Is that your way of flirting with me?"
You shrug. "Well… It's worth a shot."
She replies with a soft chuckle.
"Consider it a successful shot," she breathes, her voice laced with lust.
You blush, feeling a surge of pride at having successfully aroused Taeyeon.
"Well… Thank you."
"Then let's get back to it, shall we?" She purrs, her hands eagerly tracing the contours of your chest all the way to your abdomen. You shiver at her touch, goosebumps appearing on your skin.
She then looks at you with an inviting gaze, and her lips curl into a sly grin. You can't help but stare in awe, mesmerized by her beauty.
"W-what? Do I have something on my face?"
"No, silly," she giggles. "I want you to touch me, too."
"Oh. Right."
"I can't be the only one enjoying this, y'know?"
"My bad, noona."
You resume your passionate makeout session. The two of you moan against each other's lips, exploring each other's bodies. The two of you are so lost in the moment that the world around you begins to fade, and all that matters is the heat, the electricity, the passion.
"Fuck. You taste so good," Taeyeon moans, her voice dripping with lust.
"Mmmh… You do too. Fuck," you reply, the heat and desire growing within you.
"But seriously…"
"Hmmm?"
"Learn to get a hint," she giggles.
"Heh. Sorry," you mumble, trying to regain control. "I was kinda lost."
"Understandable," she snickers. "It's your first time, after all."
"H-hey. You're making me sound like a virgin."
"Well… You kinda are."
"Come on now…"
Taeyeon can't help but chuckle at your response, amused by your reaction.
"Fine. Let's not talk about that."
"I'm not that innocent, you know," you retort, pouting.
"Really, now?"
"Y-yeah. Really."
"So you wouldn't mind if we take things further… Right?"
You gulp, suddenly aware of what she means.
"Well… I guess?"
"Good."
She then reaches down and slowly pulls down her panties. You just realize how wet she is as you stare in awe. She then grabs your hand and leads it to her core. You hesitate for a moment, but she guides you, urging you to take things further.
"It's okay. You can touch me."
You gently cup her mound, feeling the slickness of her wet folds. Her pussy is hot, and her juices flow freely. She shudders as your fingers brush against her sensitive bud, and her body tenses up.
"Yes… That's it!" she moans, biting her lip.
"Is this it? Are you sure?"
"Mhmm… Just go ahead."
Your fingers explore her core, and you find her swollen clit. You rub her bundle of nerves in a circular motion, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.
"Oh, fuck! That feels so good."
"Are you sure? Am I doing it right?"
"Yes! Just keep going," she moans, her voice barely above a whisper.
You increase the pace, applying a bit more pressure. She writhes under your touch, her body trembling with pleasure.
"F-fuck… Y-yes!" she moans, her voice shaking.
The heat is building within you, and you can't hold back any longer. You decide to switch positions, with Taeyeon now resting her body on the bench. At this view, she looks so small, so inviting. You proceed to kiss her thighs as your hand continues its assault.
"Mmmh! Oh shit! Yes! Keep going!"
You then kiss her core, licking her wet folds. She shrieks, her voice ringing in your ears. She grabs a fistful of your hair, holding on for dear life. You then lick her clit, eliciting a loud moan from her. She can't hold on much longer, her body writhing in ecstasy.
"Fuck! You're so good! I'm… I'm close!"
You can't help but be proud, and you redouble your efforts, sucking on her clit. She arches her back, and she screams, her orgasm tearing through her body.
"I'm gonna cum! Shit! I'm gonna fucking—aghh!"
You watch as her body spasms, and her legs quiver. She rides out her orgasm, her body trembling with each wave of pleasure. She finally collapses, panting, her body slick with sweat.
"Holy shit. That was… Amazing," she breathes, her voice shaky.
"Did… Did I do good?"
"Of course, you did. Not bad for a first-timer."
"Well… Thanks."
"Now, let me return the favor," she says, a smirk spreading across her face.
"What do you mean?"
"It's your turn now," she says, licking her lips.
"B-but I already—"
She interrupts, putting a finger against your lips.
"I know you have some left in you" Her hands move down towards your privates, massaging every bit of it. "And besides…"
She then leans over and whispers to your ear, her voice seductive.
"I'm still not satisfied."
As if on cue, you can feel your member throbbing in response, as if beckoning her to touch you even more.
"Looks like someone's ready for more," she giggles.
"Hey… I'm just sensitive," you protest, looking at her with your best puppy-dog eyes.
Taeyeon lets out a laugh, seemingly caught off-guard by your adorable attempt at innocence.
"Oh, cut that out. That doesn't suit you in the slightest," she playfully retorts.
"I just thought I'd give it a try," you reply, looking disappointed.
"Don't you ever do that again, alright?"
"Why not?"
She then pulls you closer. You can see the sheer desire in her eyes burning through her gaze. She seems to want more from you than just a casual encounter.
"I don't want cute and innocent from you."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want you to be as fierce as you were earlier," she whispers, her tone low and seductive.
"As you wish, Miss Winner," you say, a cheeky grin spreading across your face.
"Show me what you got," she says, her tone challenging.
Without a moment's hesitation, you crash your lips against hers for yet another round, kissing her passionately. She reciprocates, and her hands grip your body, her nails digging into your skin. It hurts, but the pain is drowned out by the intense pleasure.
You break the kiss and attack her neck, nibbling on her soft flesh. She moans, and her hands wrap around your back, pulling you closer. You continue your assault, and she writhes underneath you, her breathing ragged.
"Ooh, shit! Yes! That's it!" she gasps, her voice cracking.
You continue your trail down her body, planting soft kisses along her collarbone. She whimpers, and her hands run through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. You then move further south, planting a soft kiss on her chest, right between her breasts.
"Yes… Yes! Please, keep going," she whispers, her voice breathy and needy.
You then plant another kiss on her left breast, followed by a soft bite on her nipple, making her whimper.
"Ahh shit!" she groans, her body shaking with pleasure.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No… Please don't," she pleads, her voice dripping with need.
"Well then," you say, kissing her other breast, biting her nipple.
"Oh, fuck!"
"Like that?"
"Yes! I like that!"
"What about this?"
You move further south, trailing kisses down her belly. She moans as your lips caress her skin, her body writhing with pleasure. You then reach her thighs, and you give them a soft kiss.
"Yes! Oh, god!" she moans, her body trembling.
You then spread her legs apart, exposing her pink pussy, glistening with her juices.
"Oh, fuck. Look at you," you marvel, staring at her womanhood.
"I know. It's fucking amazing," she says, a satisfied smile on her face.
You then move closer, and your tongue finds her slit. You slowly drag your tongue along her wet folds, eliciting a moan from her. She throws her head back, her eyes closed, as she relishes in the sensation.
"Shit! There it goes again! That fucking tongue!"
"Do you want me to stop?"
She opens her eyes, staring right at you.
"No! Don't you fucking dare!"
"Alright," you chuckle, continuing your assault.
You lap at her wet folds, lapping up her juices. You savor her sweet, musky taste, and it makes you feel drunk.
"Ooh, shit! That's the spot," she gasps, her hands gripping the back of your head.
You continue your assault, licking her clit and teasing her wet entrance. Her body trembles and her moans get louder.
"Ooh, fuck! I'm getting close," she pants, her voice shaky.
You intensify your assault, sucking on her clit while inserting two fingers inside her.
"Are you gonna cum?" you ask, staring right into her eyes.
"I'm… I'm close," she whimpers, her voice barely audible.
"Do you want to?"
"Yes… Yes! I want to cum!" she gasps, her hips bucking.
As her screams go a few pitches higher, you let go of her. Taeyeon is left hanging, her body shaking with frustration.
"Huh? W-what the fuck?"
"I don't want you to cum yet," you explain.
"But I was so close, you fuck! You could've—"
You withdraw fully from assaulting her core, only to show her your own erection standing at full attention.
"I could've just let you cum…"
You position your shaft against her pussy, brushing her entrance.
"But I want to do it…"
You rub your shaft against her wet slit, making her groan.
"When I'm inside you."
"Oh f-fuck," she bites her lip, anticipating your next move.
"This is what you wanted all along, right?"
You press your tip against her entrance, and her eyes widen.
"Yes. You finally get—ooh!"
You continue to tease her, rubbing your cock against her entrance.
"Then, shall I?"
"Yes. I want you to—agh fuck!"
"Tell me how much you want it."
"I… I want it! I want you to fuck me!"
You continue to tease her, pushing the tip of your cock into her, making her moan.
"I don't think you're sincere, noona," you tease, pushing your cock further into her.
"Fuck you! Stop teasing me and start fucking me, you asshole!" she cries out in desperation.
"Then tell it to me like you mean it," you tell her, tapping her entrance with your length.
Her hips then shake as if begging for something. Her breathing is heavy, and her eyes are filled with lust and need.
"Please… I need it," she whimpers, her voice shaking and full of need.
"Then say it, Taeyeon."
She grits her teeth, and her eyes glaring at you, filled with both anger and frustration.
"Fuck me, alright? Fuck me like you mean it! I want you to fill me up and make me cum! Make me scream! Make me fucking lose my mind! I need it! I need your fucking dick inside me! Right. Fucking. Now!"
Without warning, you push your cock into her, eliciting a cry of both pain and pleasure from her.
"You mean like this?"
"Ah! Ahh fuck!"
You slam your cock into her, and she moans, her body shuddering.
"Enjoying this, aren't you, noona?"
"Fuck… I'm really gonna cum!"
Her back arches and her hands grip the bench. You continue to fuck her, and her moans get louder. You can feel her pussy tightening around your cock, and her body trembles.
"Shit! Shit! I'm cumming—ahh!"
Taeyeon screams, her body quaking in pleasure as her orgasm rocks through her body. Excess fluids gush from her core, coating your shaft and dribbling onto the bench, until it creates a small puddle underneath. You can't help but smile as you watch her, her expression filled with pure ecstasy.
She then falls limp, her body relaxing as her orgasm subsides. She looks at you, a satisfied smile on her face.
"How was it, noona? Was it good?"
"That was… Incredible," she manages to say, her voice still shaky.
"I'm glad I was able to satisfy you," you chuckle, pulling her into an embrace.
"Yeah… You did good for a newbie," she smirks, chuckling.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. But you still have a lot to—ooh!"
You slam your cock into her, catching her by surprise.
"You say that but…"
You thrust in and out, and her eyes widen.
"Looks like you're losing your mind…"
"Oh fuck."
"To a virgin," you slam your cock deep inside her, her body shaking.
"Ahh! This fucking cock! Ahh!"
"So, tell me… What was that you said again?"
You pound her relentlessly, and her moans get louder. Her body shakes, and her breathing is ragged. For a stick-up mentor and tennis partner, she sure is enjoying her role reversal.
"I… I can't… Fuck! Oh, shit!"
"Pretty please?" you ask, slowing down the pace of your thrusts.
"N-no! No! Please don't slow down!" she pleads, her voice trembling.
"Then say it."
"Oh fuck you—ahh! I can't take it anymore!"
"I can do this all day."
"Agh! You asshole!"
You slam into her, and she screams, her body convulsing.
"Fuck! Not that spot!"
"Say it, Taeyeon. Say it."
With her face painted red in anger and embarrassment, she gives in.
"F-fine. Fine! You… I love your fucking cock! Your fucking virgin cock!" she screams at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing through the court.
"That's it. Let everyone hear you."
"Oh, fuck. I fucking love you," she moans, her voice dripping with need.
Her last few words catch you off-guard, but the sight of her drunk-hazed face and her pleasured moans make you forget it almost immediately.
"Then I'm yours."
You slam into her once more, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. With arms around your back, she pulls you in as she incoherently screams into your ear. Taeyeon has finally lost her mind, and you love to see it.
"Oh fuhg… It'sh sho gud!"
"What is good, huh? Tell me."
"Y-your cock… Your cock ish sho gud," she whimpers, her body spasming.
"And how does my cock feel inside you?"
"Sho big… It'sh filling my pusshy sho mush!"
"And whose is it?"
"Yoursh! All yours! My pusshy ish yoursh!"
"I can't quite hear you, noona."
"Your pusshy! It'sh all yoursh!"
"Good. Keep telling me. I love to hear it."
"Aahhh… Y-your cock… Fuck me more!"
You fuck her senseless, and her body writhes in pleasure. She continues to babble nonsense, her mind gone blank from the pleasure. You continue to slam into her, her tight cunt sucking in your shaft. You can feel her walls clenching, her pussy desperate to milk your cock.
"Taeyeon-noona, fuck… You feel so good."
"Aah! More! Give me more!"
"You want more? How about this?"
You then pick her up and fuck her as she's suspended in the air. Her eyes widen, and her mouth is agape.
"Oh fuhk… No. No!
She screams, and her legs wrap around your waist. You hold onto her tight, and your pace quickens.
"Oh, shit! You're sho deep!"
"You like that, huh?"
"Ahh… Y-yesh… More… Harder!"
"As you wish, noona."
You increase your pace, slamming into her faster and harder. With her light, small frame, you can go deeper than before, as if it's nothing. Or maybe all that rigorous training is finally paying off.
"Oh fuck! Fuck!"
"You like that, huh?"
"Y-yesh… I like it…"
"Good. Now, let me give you a reward."
You thrust faster and deeper, and her moans get louder. And as you do, you can feel your balls churn, the pressure building within them.
"Oh, fuck. Taeyeon-noona, I'm going to cum soon," you warn her, feeling the sensation rising.
"Yesh… Ghiv me your cum!"
"Are you sure? Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Yesh! Let me have it!"
"Alright then."
You amp up the pace as you reach your climax, and your thrusts get harder and faster. Her body is shaking, and her voice cracks as she moans uncontrollably.
"Oh fuhk! Here it cumsh!"
You slam into her one last time, burying your cock deep inside her. With a loud moan, you erupt, unloading a torrent of hot, thick cum. She screams, her voice ringing through the court, as your load fills her up, flooding her womb with seed. She clenches her eyes shut, and her hands grip your shoulders, holding on for dear life.
"Shit, noona… I can't stop!"
"Jush giv it all to me!"
You keep pouring into her, not stopping for a moment. Her body shakes, and her pussy tightens, squeezing out every last drop. You feel like you're being squeezed dry. Painful, yes, but you can't help but moan at the overwhelming pleasure.
"Oh fuck… I think I'm done…" you finally gasp, your thrusts slowing down.
"Ahh… So mush cum…" she sighs, her voice breathy and sultry.
You pull out of her, and her eyes are unfocused. A deluge of white ooze seeps out of her pink hole, a mixture of your fluids and hers. You can't believe the amount you have ejected, and neither can Taeyeon, as it creates a larger puddle on the ground.
"Holy shit," she gasps, her glazed eyes widening with disbelief.
"Fuck… I think I went overboard," you tell her, watching your semen flow out of her.
"You let out… So much…" she breathes, her weak body barely holding her upright.
"Well, I couldn't control myself. Not with you."
"Hahh… Thanks," she smiles, a hint of pride in her tone.
You both catch your breaths, the smell of sex hanging heavily in the air. Your body tells you that you've exhausted your reserves, and maybe so did Taeyeon's. But the sight and sound of your previous actions still linger in your head and your desire for more remains.
"Say… Noona…"
"Yeah."
Your shaft slowly stands back up, throbbing at her entrance and eager to continue. She lets out a soft gasp as she notices your eagerness. You can see the hesitation in her eyes, fueling your hunger even more.
"Can we?"
"You're restless today, aren't you?" she giggles.
"Can't help it," you grin, rubbing your length against her slit.
"Fuck… That feels so good," she moans, closing her eyes.
"So? Can we?"
"Hmmm… Alright. I guess one more time wouldn't hurt."
"Thank you," you tell her, a big grin forming on your face.
"So, what do you want to—whoa!"
Before she could finish, you swiftly lowered her to the ground and spread her legs apart. You position yourself in front of her, your shaft poised and ready. She looks at your erection, her face flushing a shade of red.
"Fuck… Here we go again," she sighs, anticipation in her eyes.
You then guide your shaft into her, and she whimpers, her pussy swallowing you whole.
"Urgh! You're so fucking tight, noona!"
"More like you're too fucking big," she grunts, her walls straining to accommodate your girth.
"And you're loving it," you reply, smiling sheepishly.
"Mhmm…" she nods, biting her lip.
"That's what I like to hear," you smirk, and without warning, start thrusting.
"Ahh! Oh shit! Fuck me harder!"
You comply, slamming your cock into her at a rapid pace. Her voice echoes through the court, a melody that fills you with immense satisfaction. The sound of her skin slapping against yours only adds to the pleasure, and you find yourself thrusting even harder.
"Fuck… Yes… Harder! Fucking pound my pussy!"
You slam into her faster, harder, and deeper. Her body writhes with pleasure, her hips bucking and her legs quivering. She can't help but wrap her arms around you, her hands digging into your skin. Her legs also have you locked in, the intensity of her hold surprising.
"Shit, Taeyeon-noona… You're so good," you groan, relishing the tightness of her pussy.
"Yes! Fuck! Right there! Keep fucking me like that!" she cries, her voice cracking.
"Here? Like this?"
You hit a spot inside her, and her body jolts.
"Aghh! Yes! There! Right fucking there!"
"You like that?"
"Yes! Fuck! I fucking love it!"
You continue to slam into her, wild like a beast in heat, hitting the same spot over and over again. She can't stop screaming, her voice cracking and her body shuddering with pleasure. and her pussy clenches around you, tightening even more. You can't help but let out a groan, the sensation driving you mad. You feel her orgasm coming, and you're not far behind.
"Shit… Noona, I'm gonna cum again!"
"Me too… Me too!"
"Hrgh! Here it goes! Take it all!"
"Yes! Cum with me! Cum inside me! Fill me up with your fucking cum!"
You feel the pressure rising, and you can't hold it any longer. You ram your cock deep into her, and with one last thrust, you let out a primal roar, releasing a torrent of hot cum into her. She screams, her voice ringing through the court as your thick load fills her up once again.
She cums right after, her pussy convulsing around your cock, unleashing a flood of her own juices. As if a dam had been burst, her fluids flowed freely, gushing out of her pussy and coating your cock. It's as if you're drowning, the intensity is overwhelming.
"Oh fukh! There'sh sho mush!"
"Taeyeon… You're so… Tight!" you gasp, your cock trapped by her pussy.
Not that you can, nor that you could. Your hips continue to buck, the pleasure almost unbearable. It's as if her cunt is trying to squeeze every last drop out of you, and it's succeeding. You keep pouring into her, filling her womb up to the brim.
"Ahh! It'sh not shtopping! Your cum ish sho mush!"
As your thrusts come to a halt, you slam your cock one last time, burying yourself deep inside her. Excess fluid squirts out of her, adding to the already impressive puddle underneath you. You can feel her pussy milking your shaft, squeezing out the last drop of cum.
After what seems like an eternity, your orgasm subsides, and you slowly pull out of her, your cock still oozing with cum. She sighs, and a copious amount of white liquid drips from her entrance. A mixture of both your cum and hers. After your earlier outburst, you can't believe how much you manage to let out, and neither could she.
"Fughk… Sho mush…" she pants, her eyes glassy.
"Noona… That was intense," you tell her, trying to catch your breath.
"Fuhk. Yes… I feel sho dihzzy."
You can't help but chuckle at her expression, her face flushed with exhaustion.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Yeah… I guesh," she mumbles, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.
You then carry her as you sit on the bench, her exhausted body resting against yours. With her remaining strength, she slowly wraps her arms around your back, pulling herself closer. You reciprocate, enveloping her in a tight embrace.
"Ow, ow!"
"What? What's wrong?"
"You're hugging me too hard!"
"Oh. Sorry. I went overboard, noona."
"Heh. Don't be," she laughs, nuzzling against you.
The two of you spend some time recovering from your intense session, the cool breeze a nice reprieve from the sweltering. She then looks up at you, her eyes full of desire.
"What? Do you want more?" you ask.
"No, I'm tired… Just hold me, okay?"
"If you say so," you chuckle, giving her a soft peck on the forehead.
She giggles, snuggling against you.
"We were kinda loud, weren't we?"
"Maybe."
"Do you think someone saw us?"
"I hope not," you chuckle, rubbing her shoulders.
"I do!"
From somewhere on the bleachers, a man's voice suddenly blurts out, emerges, the sound of his shoes echoing through the court. Your heart sinks as the two of you search for the source, finding a man sitting on the bleachers.
"Oh shit. There was someone," you gasp, your face flushing with embarrassment.
"Sorry for not telling you two," the stranger, wearing what might me a janitor's uniform, apologizes, looking rather bashful.
"How long were you there?" Taeyeon asks, yelling, her voice tinged with embarrassment.
"I heard screaming and moaning, so I went to check it out. And there I saw the two of you going at it."
"And you didn't stop us?" she retorts.
"Why would I? You lovebirds seem to be enjoying it," the stranger says, his tone nonchalant.
You and Taeyeon then exchanged glances, your faces blushing red.
"And besides…"
The two of you look back at the stranger.
"Security here doesn't give a shit during these hours."
"Really? Do they not monitor the cameras?"
"They do."
You both shudder at his response.
"But they'd rather get some shut-eye than deal with any after-hours shenanigans," he answers, chuckling at his own statement.
"So… Do they not care about what happens here?"
"Are you crazy? We've seen enough of that stuff already! It's common during these hours."
The stranger's words echoed in your ears, leaving you both stunned and relieved by the realization that your bold escapade wasn't as discreet as you
"Heh. I guess I did pick the right time---ow!"
Taeyeon suddenly hits you in between your playful comment with a playful yet embarrassed smirk on her face.
"You sonovabitch! You let people watch us? In public, of all places? I hate you!"
"Hey! Hey! It was your idea to have some fun in public," you protest, rubbing your arm where she hit you.
"But you made the reservation! You sneaky fuck… You probably knew about this!"
She continues to scold you, her words laced with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. For such a soft punch, they sure are quite painful.
"No, I swear! I didn't know anyone would be here!"
"I swear, the next time you have your way with me, I will…"
"Hey. Don't blame me! You pulled me in on this!"
"Why you…"
"Before you lovers continue to be all playful and whatnot…" the janitor interrupts, "You might want to pack things up."
"Huh?" the two of you ask in unison.
He then points towards the sky as the dawning sun begins to peek over the horizon. You quickly check the time on your phone and realize that the time you reserved for your outdoor rendezvous is nearly up. With your exhausted bodies and flushed faces, you hurriedly gather your belongings, discarded clothes and all, trying your best to fix yourselves as fast and as composed as possible.
"What about the mess?" Taeyeon suddenly blurts out, her cheeks still flushed from the recent activities.
"What mess?" you ask, your focus shifting between the looming sunrise and Taeyeon's concerned expression.
"This mess!" She gestures towards the puddles of sweat and other bodily fluids that soak the bench and the concrete ground beneath it.
You exchange a panicked glance, realizing the evidence of your passionate encounter is scattered for all to see.
"What are we gonna do with this?" she exclaims, worry evident in her voice.
"Fuck… Uhh, shit! Gimme a sec…"
You quickly think of ways to resolve the situation.
"Hey! Don't worry about that," the janitor calls out, waving his hand dismissively.
"What? You're gonna clean all this?" you ask, a mix of relief and surprise in your voice.
"Uhh… Yeah! That's my job," he chuckles.
"Well… Thank you, sir!" you yell, waving your hand at him.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Taeyeon cries out, her voice ringing with relief. She then pulls your arm, nudging you to leave the scene with her. "We have to go!"
You and Taeyeon then rush towards the exit, your hearts pounding with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. From what was initially a harmless tennis practice session, things took an unexpectedly erotic turn, allowing you and your partner to unleash all your pent-up desires in a frisky and uninhibited display of passion. Fucking on a public tennis court was definitely not part of the plan, but it was an experience neither of you would soon forget.
"Ugh… Walking without underwear is the worst," you groan as you and Taeyeon hurriedly walk outside of the building, your exhausted dick swaying freely beneath your shorts.
"You think? I haven't even put anything underneath in a hurry!" she replies, frustration lacing her voice. Her breasts bounce under her clothes with each hurried step. "Hngh… I can feel some of your cum dripping down my thighs."
"It does?" you ask, shocked and curious, leaning in to inspect her arousing situation. "Lemme see…"
She then prepares to swing her arm to hit you. Her face furious yet blushing.
"Don't you even dare!"
"Alright, alright. My bad," you chuckle, raising your hands in surrender.
As the sight of the parking lot comes into view, the two of you sprint towards your car, not minding of anything else around. You quickly open the passenger door for Taeyeon, and she jumps in eagerly. You then jump into the driver's seat, heart pounding with nervousness and you start the engine and leave the place for good.
"Right," you breathe out as you adjust yourself in your seat.
"Let's go to my place," she tells you.
"Well, duh. Of course I'll drop you at your place, noona. Where else would I even…"
"No."
"Huh? What do you mean ‘no’?"
"I mean, you're all sweaty and whatnot, so…"
Twiddling with her hair, Taeyeon then looks at you with a coy expression on her face.
"If you want… You can take a shower at my place. I wouldn’t mind.”
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Author’s Notes:
And that's another SNSD member written down! I'm halfway there... Maybe. I really can't imagine her other than the "Noona You'd Like to Date" and with my renewed interest over the "Prince of Tennis" series, I thought I'd give this idea a shot. I don't know much about tennis tho... So I hope I did a decent job at least. 🙏
Also... Some of you may not know this, but a few hours from now is my Queen Taeyeon's birthday! Going 35 and still one of the hottest idols in the industry. God-fucking-damn. 🥵
I have more stories lined up (and waiting to be written by yours truly OMFG I hate myself) and I'm very eager to share them to everyone. The "Spotlight" series is still. Don't worry. I didn't forget about it and hopefully I don't. I just thought of making stories of other idols in between to break it up a bit.
Once again, thank you to @capslocked and @sparkynsfws for your help in polishing this story, as well as to @braaan for yet another fire poster. Thank you so much! 🤗
Thank you for reading! 🙇
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bolithesenate · 6 months
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Satine Kryze should not be a sympathetic character.
A complex and tragic one? Sure. Every day of the week.
But she did not 'have a point', neither in-universe, not outside of the sw framework. She isn't a hero, neither of her own story, nor of someone else's. There is no way she wasn't a tool. You should not look at her and think 'this woman has done nothing wrong and what ultimately happened to Mandalore was to no part her fault'.
Because guys. Friends. Strangers on the interwebs.
Pacifism doesn't work.
And it certainly wouldn't have worked in motherfucking Star Wars – the 'wars' is literally in the title – for a system or series of systems who wanted to stay neutral.
YOU DON'T STAY NEUTRAL FOR LONG BY JUST SAYING 'YEAH, NO THANKS <3' TO A LARGE-SCALE CONFLICT.
source: I am Swiss, we've looked at this in history class. Extensively.
Satine was a dreamer (thanks Obi-Wan) who was allowed to keep her delusions because they actively benefitted Palpatine's plans. And that's something you can quote me on. There is literally no other reason (apart from supremely bad writing but we'll leave that aside here) for her and her little friends' 'Alliance of Neutral Systems' or whatever to be allowed to exist.
Not that they were neutral in any way, shape or form, by the way.
So yeah sorry to the Satine stans, but you're idolizing a character that was written exclusively and specifically for Obi-Wan's manpain and who, in-universe, was a supremely bad politician. Because the level of mental dissonace needed to factually be a Republic System, have a seat in the fucking Republic Senate, rely upon their military for aid while actively proclaiming that All Violence Is Bad And Barbaric one sentence later AND THEN CLAIM TO BE NEUTRAL IN THE WHOLE CONFLICT – it's just mind-blowing. Even moreso that people actually look at this character and see something aspirational in her.
Again, I'll gladly dissect her character any day of the week. She is fascinating because of all the implications her existence as a head of state carries with it, as well as her deeply complicated family history and her relation to mandalorian culture.
But it just grates on me personally that that all gets ignored in favor of her being some sort of icon of white american saviorism (bc that's literally what she is) and her objectively bad political takes being treated like they are the only correct stance to be taken during the Clone Wars/Mandalorian Civil Wars.
If you think pacifism works and actually lets you stay neutral, I desperately urge you to open a history book. Because those two are mutually exclusive. Especially in the scenario that Star Wars paints.
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itsnevercasual · 7 months
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Uptown Girl
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pairing: fashion designer!harry x younger!fashion designer!reader
summary: you’re working in a designer boutique, and just so happen to have a late entrance when world-renowned designer harry styles visits for a collaboration. he seems to take a liking to you, and you aren’t sure if that makes you relieved or more anxious
warnings: some cursing, not edited as usual
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harry styles was a well-known name. ceo and founder of pleasing, a nail polish and perfume company. he also owned many other companies, but really, there were too many to keep track of. he was also, most importantly, one of the biggest fashion icons.
you were very familiar with him— had saved up every penny when you were younger to buy a pleasing perfume and now owned a very small collection of their nail polishes.
so, of course, you lost your shit when you found out he’d be coming into your job.
you were a fashion design major at nyu, and had gotten a job at a very esteemed designer (not one of the name brands, but still). although you did expect the job to have more opportunities to.. actually design fashion, you were still grateful nonetheless.
it was just your luck that the day that harry styles was coming in, you were late. it wasn’t your fault! really, it wasn’t! you were always on time because you got anxious at the mere thought of being late.
by the time you parked, you practically ran to the store, silently praying you wouldn’t break a leg as you were running in heels.
“i’m not late am i?” you ask breathlessly as you finally enter the store, fixing your hair and outfit.
you had curled your hair the night before, so they were still pretty much intact. your outfit consisted of black heels, brown dress pants, and a black, tight-fitting turtleneck.
“yes, y/n. you are late,” your boss gave you a look, and you knew you’d be in trouble. “mr. styles, i am so sorry. our employs are.. usually punctual.”
your head snaps over to look in the direction she was talking, and your heart drops when you make eye contact with harry styles.
great.
“mr. styles, i am so sorry,” you apologize.
“it’s perfectly alright,” he gives a kind smile.
that makes you feel a bit better.
“y/n, a word in my office please.”
you deflate as you look back to your boss and follow her to her office
the second the door is closed, she’s chewing you out.
“how unprofessional can you be? i know you are in college, but jesus christ!”
“i’m sorry! there was so much traffic, and my car is so old it stops working if i go faster than 50, and—“
“i don’t need excuses,” she cuts you off. “i need you to be more professional.”
you inhale, “i am sorry, but it was not my fault. i have never once been late before, and you know that. it was a one-time mistake.”
“it better be.”
she walks out and slams the door to the office, leaving you alone in there.
you look up to the ceiling as you bite your lip and try not to cry.
after taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you walk back out into the otherwise empty store and slap a smile on your face.
you do your usual tasks of tidying the store and fixing the mannequins.
mr. styles, his team, and your boss (her name was diane but she was more like satan) were all working on sketching designs and throwing some fabrics onto the mannequins to get a rough idea of what they wanted.
“i don’t know if i like it,” mr. styles murmurs, staring at the mannequin. you glace over at it and have to force yourself to not make a face.
no shit, he didn’t like it. it was bad.
the sketch was good, but the color combination was all wrong and the whole thing was too.. chunky. in the way that everything was flowy and baggy, so it had no shape.
“well, what do you not like about it?” diane asks.
“i’m not sure. it doesn’t look quite right.”
“you have to fix the shape,” you say to yourself as you fix the files of custom orders to be done.
“what was that?”
your head snaps up, and you realize he heard you.
“oh. uh.. i was just—“
“talking to herself,” diane interrupts, glaring at you. “she’s an intern. don’t mind her.”
“no, i’d like to hear what she has to say. might have the answer to our issue. let’s hear it— what was your name again?”
“y/n l/n,” you squeak out.
“well, y/n, what do you think is wrong?”
you hesitantly walk over, “well.. i can see the idea. but it’s just not.. executed well. the whole thing is too flowy.”
“isn’t the point for it to flow?” he asks, raising a brow.”
“it is,” you answer quickly, “but.. there has to be something that isn’t as.. baggy, i suppose. something has to be tight-fitting. it doesn’t have any shape. it just kinda.. looks like a box.”
he stares at you for a moment, and diane clears her throat.
“y/n, this is time for the professionals. get back to—“
“no, diane. she is.. she’s right. it does need shape.”
at his words, the people around him begin to pin it differently.
“and the colors,” you rush out. “the colors don’t.. it’s supposed to be a statement piece, right?”
“that’s the goal,” he nods.
“well.. the colors are too.. light. they’re more pastel, which is fine, but for it to really be a statement, it’s better to use brighter ones. or at least make one of them brighter. i would.. i think make the base the brighter one.”
diane looks ready to kill you.
mr. styles laughs, “well, don’t you know a lot? diane, where did you find her? wish my interns knew half as much as her.”
your face grows hot.
“she’s a student,” diane sighs.
“a student?” he asks.
“i… uh.. i study fashion at nyu. fashion design— i’m in my last year.”
he seems to sense that you're damn near about to shit your pants, because he grins at you (slightly patronizing, but also kind), before turning back to diane.
"i'd like her to be with me for the rest of the project. y/n, darling, how much are y'makin' here?"
your stutter, "uh--... $15 an hour."
he tuts his tongue like that's horrible, "i'll pay.. ten times that while y'workin' with me."
your eyes widen, "wh-- that's not-- you don't have to--"
"nonsense. it's what most people i work with start with. i'll up it if needed, of course. and you obviously don't have to, but i'd love your insight."
"i-- no, i-- i'd love to, i.."
"great," he grins, and you're extremely dizzy. what the hell was going on?
"uh.. mr. styles, if i may give my opinion," diane pipes up.
"you may," he eyes her skeptically.
"y/n is a student. she's still learning, and she's never worked on anything here. it's very risky to--"
he cuts her off by asking you a question, "have you designed things? sketched 'em out and all that?"
you nod.
"i'd hope you've also done the whole... actually sewing things together and really making them?"
you nod again.
he turns back to diane, "seems like she's got experience," he looks back to you, "do y'have photos of any of those?"
"yeah-- they're.. i think i left them in my car. i have photos on my phone."
"we'll meet later to look at all that, then. i'll give you my number later. for now.. i'd like your input on our other ideas."
-
for the rest of the day, you follow harry around, and you sort of feel like a lost puppy just following him around and answering when he asks something of you.
after a while, you got more comfortable giving your input without being prompted, but you always tiptoed around what you were really trying to get at in fear that you'd anger him.
at the end of day, he put your number in his phone with the promise that he'd text you later about more details.
-
the text came three days later.
From: (Maybe): Harry
Hello, Y/N. This is Harry. Would you be free to meet tomorrow at noon to discuss the details of the project? Please bring your sketches and any photos of designs you've done, and anything else you feel necessary.
To: Harry Styles
Hi! I should be free tomorrow, yeah. Where do you want to go?
From: Harry Styles
I'll let you decide.
To: Harry Styles
There is this one coffee shop named Maman?
Sent Location: 239 Centre St, New York, NY
From: Harry Styles
Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a nice rest of your day.
To: Harry Styles
You too!
-
you spend the rest of your night fretting about what to wear. you were stuck in between classy but not too fancy, but also not too casual. comfy, but not so comfy that you looked like you didn't give a shit. but also not so uncomfortable that you were, well, uncomfortable, and looked like you were trying too hard.
you'd eventually settled for something simple. long, light-wash denim skirt, a plain black top, and some mary janes. you tied some of your hair back with a white ribbon, did some natural makeup, and called it a day.
you got to the coffee shop at 11:45 and ordered your drink, as well as a chocolate croissant.
harry walked in at exactly 12:00, and grinned when he saw you sitting at a table, scrolling on your phone with a manilla folder and sketchbook beside you.
-
really, you can't blame him! you were pretty, he'd have to be blind to not know that. and really, you weren't that much younger than him.
he's 29, and you're 23. he's not a stalker, he just did a background check like any good business person would do.
so what he finds you cute? the relationship would be strictly professional. besides, you deserved a break from your horrible boss. contrary to what diane thought, the walls were not soundproof, and he could hear her chewing you out.
sure, he'd done that to one of his employees once or twice, but it was always deserved, and never on the first time of being late. that was ridiculous.
"good morning, y/n," he greets. your head snaps up to make eye contact and he has to force himself to not laugh. he wasn't laughing at you, per se. it was more so the fact that he found it amusing how jumpy you seemed around him.
"good morning. did you order?"
"not yet. never been here, so i've got no clue what's good."
you open your mouth to respond, but the barista calls out, "large iced honey lavender latte with a pain au chocolat for y/n!"
you give a sheepish smile and run up to retrieve your food and drink. when you come back, you take a sip of your drink and set what looks to be a chocolate croissant down on the table.
"well, i'm more of an iced coffee girl. and i also don't really like the taste of coffee, so i've got a bunch of sugar in mine. what do you usually drink?"
"'m more of a black coffee, to be honest. iced is fine, but hot's better."
you wrinkle your nose, "i don't know how you stand the taste of coffee. it's so bitter."
"better than what you've got!" he laughs, "might as well just down a sugar packet."
you giggle at his teasing, "only psychos drink plain black coffee. this," you hold up your drink, "is so much better."
"oh, is it now?"
"yes, it is," you cross your arms proudly.
"lemme have a taste."
you hand over the drink, and he takes a small sip before coughing, "christ, y/n! that cannot be good for your health!"
"hey, i'm still alive, aren't i?" you shrug.
“that you are.”
“well… just ask for an americano, i guess. the rest of their drinks are kinda sugary and fun.”
he got his drink, and once the both of you were sat down, he got to business.
“so, how long have you been designing?”
“i’ve been doing it since middle school. i.. uh.. i saw that one american girl doll movie. where she was a designer. and i just got obsessed. obviously they weren’t good, but…”
“so you’ve got a lot of experience then?”
you nod. he grins.
“may i see the sketches?”
you grab the folder off the top of the sketchbook and pass it over to him.
he flips through it in silence for a few minutes, and you anxiously nibble at the skin around your fingernails.
“..so?” you ask.
“they’re great. really, you’ve got talent. i can’t draw for shit, so you’ve got me beat,” he laughs.
you laugh with him, “most of those are just ideas, i’ve never made them. but i have photos of the ones i have made. i printed them so it’s easier.”
you pass over the manilla folder, and he opens it to look at all the photos you’d printed out. there was around fifty— those were just the ones you actually liked and were confident showing.
he holds one up, and your cheeks flush. “why’s this the only one where you’re the model?” he asks.
“that was.. uh.. that’s my senior prom dress.”
his eyes widen, giving you an impressed look, “you made your own prom dress?”
you nod, “i just wanted something very specific, so.. i figured i’d just make it myself.”
“y’look great— the dress looks great,” he coughs. “you’re very talented.”
“thank you,” you blush.
“so tell me why someone as talented as you is working in diane’s shop not designing a single thing?”
“i didn’t realize that was the job. i just got excited when my professor told me they were interested in my work, so i took the job. i thought i’d at least do a little designing, but.. it pays.. decent, though.”
he scoffs, “darling, 15 bucks an hour is not decent pay. that’s what you make being a hostess. you’re an artist. someone would pay thousands of dollars for just your sketches.”
“i don’t think i’m that good—“
“you are,” he’s firm. resolute. there is no room for argument with him. “i think you’ll be a great asset to the project. i could use your… talent. i’ll send you an email with the nitty gritty details. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”
and with that, he stands and leaves, leaving you to sit there, dumbfounded, confused, and grinning.
-
a/n: guys i have too many series going on 😭😭
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celaenaeiln · 8 months
Note
Was Dick ever mean to Jason when they first met? Because I’ve seen a lot of fanon where it’s implied/shown that he was, but I haven’t seen anything to prove that it’s canon (and I’m happy you’re back even though you weren’t gone long I love your blog)
Aww thank you!!
Ugh I don't know where fanon keeps getting the idea but Dick was never mean to Jason as Robin.
Let's start with the erased version, otherwise known as pre-crisis.
Jason Todd was born to acrobatic parents and also performed in the circus. Here's the interesting bit: it wasn't Bruce who found out about them, it was Dick who was at the circus and cheered them.
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Batman (1940) Issue #357
Where was Bruce? He was busy becoming squid food in Gotham.
Anyway Bruce escapes and meets up with Dick who is still Robin and helps him solve part of the crime. As he's discussing the case with Dick, Dick mentions that there may be a connection to Bruce's case and something Trina Todd said.
Yup! Dick becomes friends with Jason's mom <3
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Batman (1940) Issue #358
Bruce doesn't trust her but Dick does and Bruce trusts Dick so he accepts.
So Dick goes to meet Trina and her husband but they've already left to sneak into the villain's lair and get caught by Killer Croc. So he chases after them. Barbara joins in as Batgirl but Batgirl and Robin are too late because Killer Croc has already fed Joe and Trina to crocodiles.
Batman's still fighting his own case while all this is happening.
Waldo the Clown takes Jason to the manor and while Jason's in the kitchen looking for food, he finds the door behind the grandfather clock open, goes inside, and finds the batcave.
He finds a trunk of Dick's old suits as Robin and that's where the iconic pre-crisis Jason Robin scene comes -
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Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526
Which first of all Jason why are you wearing other people's clothes without their permission? But anyway Jason hears people coming and finds Batman's busy grabbing information with Selina and so he hides in the trunk of the Batmobile. Robin Dick and Batgirl solve the case on their end and find out there's a trap for Batman so they come in and save Batman and his allies. Jason sneaks out of the car and finds his parents are dead so he tries to kill Killer Croc but Dick and Barbara stop him.
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Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526
Dick's just like "oh, you sweetheart."
Dick wants to adopt him but Bruce is like mine because they're both like "It's my fault his parents died, I should take responsibility."
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Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526
Dick was really nice to Jason.
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Batman (1940) Issue #529
Dick is Jason's idol. He and Dick have a great relationship, so much so that Dick actually passes on the Robin name and suit to Jason.
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Batman (1940) Issue #529
I could make a meme out of the handshake scene with Bruce being one hand and Jason being the other and in the middle the hands meet is "idolizing Dick Grayson".
So Dick and Jason had a fantastic relationship.
And then some things happen where this Jason wasn't well-recieved by the audience because of the way writers handled the transition from Dick's robin to Jason's so DC realized that they need to make Jason into his own person with his own personality, looks, and story.
So they magic marker erased the previous timeline and now we have the actual Jason Todd that's actually relevant to every comic that comes after.
Yet in this current timeline too, Dick treated Jason sweetly.
Here Dick's first meeting with Jason, he actually saves Jason from the hands of drug dealers.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
He let go of his hiding spot to get the new Robin out of trouble.
Jason is not at all happy about this.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
And Dick's pissed off because he found out there's a new Robin through a newspaper and he just lost a drug deal he's been waiting on to bailout the new Robin.
So Dick storms off and Jason asks Bruce about Nightwing
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
And I'm going to reiterate parts of this post for this part (people please please read this post because tumblr has an image limit and I've explained it in detail there but I can't here)
Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.
You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.
And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.
After meeting Bruce, Dick talks about what he's been up to since he left and put Bruce in a good mood before he starts tearing into him.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.
Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out, and out comes the truth
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
But here's what it means in terms of Dick and Jason's relationship:
Instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, Dick becomes the bigger man and decides to turn Robin into a legacy.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.
It's Dick's approval of Jason and them catching the drug dealers together at the end that cements Jason as Robin. It's his acceptance and good will toward Jason that Bruce is grateful for.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
Dick also validates and praises Jason in the comics whenever they meet.
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The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #31
He's basically, "Don't worry about Bruce, if you get in trouble, I'll take care of it."
The only problem is they didn't meet a lot but when they did it was good times all around.
The third version of Dick and Jason's meeting.
In this version holy honking heck. First of all it's a flashback when Bruce fires Dick because he feels like he's too busy with other duties to be with Batman and then after a series of events in present time, it shows that Bruce literally kidnapped Jason and gagged and tied him to a chair. And Alfred's like WTH BRUCE?!
Even more things happen on both sides (curse you 30-image per post tumblr limit) and Bruce essentially makes Jason watch all the videos of Dick and sets Jason's gauntlet test to be a game of tag with Dick.
Dick is completely unaware of all this happening because he's just having fun busting up thugs and playing with Barbara, having no clue that Bruce and Jason are literally watching him livestream through his bike dash cam.
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #105
Jason literally shows up while Dick's pondering on a rooftop and is like who're you? Oh wait you're him lol. Move over there's a new robin in town! And Dick's just like WHAT?! He such a little shit about it.
Dick's immediately like okay I'm upset at Bruce but I have to help this new kid out. There's no hesitation, no regret, no anger towards Jason at all. Just pure desire to see him succeed.
Not gonna lie, Jason's just awful towards Dick because he thinks that Dick is his test or something Dick's just like, "can you cool it for a sec?" They soon find out about a huge crime drug activity going on and Dick sorta mentors Jason through it while on the case. I'm not gonna include the panels but it's just Dick and Jason working together. It's fun to read and cute because Dick's protective of him and Jason's like a little bird following a bigger scarier one.
At the end the crime is solved, Jason and Alfred go home, and Dick calls Bruce to tell him this -
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #106
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #106
He was so, so nice to Jason. Actually it's impossible for anyone to treat Jason better than Dick treated him, not even Bruce was this nice to Jason.
In Nightwing (2016) Annual, there's another story of Dick and Jason's meeting. In this case Dick comes over after Alfred calls him and Jason's sulking in his room because Bruce grounded him. He pulls Jason away and they go on a Nightwing and Robin adventure where Dick talks to him, teaches him, and lifts his spirits.
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Nightwing (2016) 2021 Annual
Dick being mean to Jason is pure fanon, it's so fanon that there isn't even a single comic panel that can be used in support of that horrible idea. He never ignored Jason. Dick makes it very, very clear that his problems are with Bruce won't interfere with his relationship with Jason. He treats Jason as an independent person with his own personality and genuinely looks after and cares for him in every retelling. The only thing is they didn't meet very often but when they did, Dick was such a good brother.
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victimsofyaoipoll · 11 months
Text
Finals
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Propaganda Under Cut
Sakura Haruno
Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.
My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 
What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.
Misa Amane
she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.
she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!
Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime
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7s3ven · 8 months
Text
POPULAR. luke (pjo)
( master list )
IN WHICH… Y/N is tired of being bullied her whole life so she makes a deal with Luke. As long as she does his bidding, he’ll make her popular.
“Beggin' on her knees to be popular. That's her dream, to be popular. Kill anyone to be popular, sell her soul to be popular.”
Warnings : toxic! luke + y/n (but they’re lowkey iconic together), gore, death, manipulation if you squint, dark themes, y/n + luke are both pretty messed up, pretty gruesome near the end, not proof read
A/N : Me when I wanna write toxic one shots to express my feelings but I've been in toxic relationships and writing fluff is how I comfort myself :c
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Years ago, the young Y/N would’ve scoffed in her face. Maybe even spat at her if she was feeling bratty enough. Why make a deal with Luke? It was like selling your soul to the devil.
Camp Half-Blood loved Luke, adored him even. But under all that courage and glory was a monster. Y/N had seen it first hand when he turned his head for a split second during a duel, his eyes going dark and his lips curling into a cruel sneer.
Nobody except Y/N ever noticed that hidden darkness behind his soft kindness. It wasn’t her fault she made that wretched deal. He approached her first, staring so longingly into her eyes and speaking with a voice so charming that she hung off every word.
The first time he talked to her was when she was eating breakfast, isolated from the rest of her chattering siblings. Ares was her father, which explained all her retrained anger towards the world. She was the lowest of the bunch, never socialising with anyone and avoiding all group activities to the best of her ability.
She was skilled with a spear but did anybody notice? No one did. Except Luke. In a way, he was her saviour in this eat or be eaten world. Y/N was a tough cookie to crack but getting her head shoved into toilets every day could wear down anybody.
Luke wasn’t usually one to take an interest in girls. He had plenty fawning over him for his attention but none of them could catch his eye like Y/N. There was something about her precise aim with the blade of her spear and the way she gulped down her ice cold water without a second thought. Call it creepy, but Luke found solitude in secretly watching Y/N train.
“Y/N.” Was the first thing Luke had ever said to her. She looked up in surprise and Clarisse’s face turned sour at the sight of the Hermes boy. Her beady eyes narrowed as his hand brushed against Y/N’s shoulder.
“You’re pretty good with a spear.” He quietly whispered in Y/N’s ear so none of the other Ares kids could hear him. “If you ever need a sparring partner, I’m right here.”
Y/N lips parted in shock as she watched him slink off towards his own table. Her siblings stared at her in curiosity before turning back do their food, scoffing at her.
Every minute, Y/N would steal small glances at Luke. And every time, he caught her and gave her a knowing smirk. She looked down at her plate after being caught for the fifth time, her cheeks flushing red and turning hot. She no longer felt hungry.
Y/N stood up, scraping the rest of her food into the fire. She felt a presence behind her but she paid no mind to it until they spoke it.
“So, did you think about my offer?” Of course it was Luke. Y/N flinched, almost dropping the porcelain plate into the fire to join her discarded meal.
“Why me?” She asked, her voice nothing but a quiet whisper that barely reached Luke’s ears.
“Why not you?” He replied, cheekily tilting his head.
Y/N could come up with many reasons to that question. She always took Luke as someone who carefully picked who he interacted with, especially when it came to girls.
“May’s prettier.” She said, nodding over to the bright brown-haired girl tucked in the middle of the Aphrodite table.
“Yeah, she’s pretty but you’re prettier.”
“Vivian’s smarter.”
Luke glanced at the Athena girl with not much interest, shrugging. “Not my type.” Vivian’s was everybody type with her sharp-witted mouth and perfectly cut bob.
“Why are you talking to me, Luke?” After a while, Y/N cut straight to the chase. She furrowed her brows in confusion, a little uneasy with how close Luke was and how girls were glancing over at her.
“I’ve seen you fight.” Luke continued to avoid her questions, much to her annoyance. “Like I said, I’d be happy to be your sparring partner. Today, five pm. Does that work for you?”
Y/N stared at him, hesitating for a moment before she slowly nodded. “Yeah… I’ll see you then.” She briefly smiled before rushing off, dumping her plate somewhere else.
Luke wasn’t expecting much when he showed up at the arena, holding his newly sharpened sword. He figured that if Y/N didn’t end up coming then he could at least get some solo practice in.
But no, she was sitting on a bench inside the arena, fiddling with her spear. She lifted her head, her eyes locking with Luke’s.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you’d actually show up.” He dropped his sword in front of her, grinning.
Y/N shrugged. “It… seemed rude not to.” She muttered, looking down at the ground around.
“I’ll be honest, Y/N. I didn’t just want to spar with you. I’ve come to make you a deal. I’ve noticed that a particular someone keeps shoving your head into a toilet.” Luke smirked when he saw Y/N stiffen. He crouched down in front of her, “What if I told you… that I could make it all go away? Just like that.”
He snapped his fingers.
“I can make you popular, Y/N. So popular that no one, not even Clarisse, will mess with you again.”
Y/N gave Luke that same narrowed glare that Clarisse often sent his way. “What’s the catch?” She asked, causing Luke to chuckle.
“Smart. The catch isn’t that big. All you have to do is whatever I tell you to.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raised slightly as she finally made eye contact with Luke again. He charmingly smiled at her. She thickly gulped, weighing out all her options in her head. She could reject his offer and be the victim of relentless bullying… or she could accept and never get hit by Clarisse again.
Luke frowned at her hesitation. “The choice is your’s.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered to look at everything but him. She slowly nodded. “Okay.” She whispered. “Okay. I’ll do it. Deal.”
It started off small. Steal someone from Clarisse, easy enough. Y/N was almost as cunning as Hermes himself, which slightly impressed Luke. He gave her a nod of approval after she dropped Clarisse’s beloved spear in front of him. As promised, he stopped the bullying, but in a way Y/N never expected.
After yet another failed game of capture the flag, Y/N was walking towards the large crowd of demigods when Luke abruptly picked her up and kissed her. Dating or even being around Luke Castellan was guaranteed to make you popular and Y/N had somehow been roped into it without her knowledge.
Her tasks weren’t too difficult until Luke told her to do the unthinkable. To pick a target and violently murder them as a warning to the camp that bad things were coming.
“Luke… you know I can’t.” She muttered as she hid behind the Hermes cabin with him. She was clutching onto his arm, begging him to give her another task. Luke stared down at her in annoyance.
He rolled his eyes, slightly sneering. “Come on. It’s easy. I’ll even show you.” Y/N peered at him through her lashes, looking like a deer in headlights. But she couldn’t say no. She could never say no to Luke when he had his lips pressed so firmly against her’s and when his fingers traced delicate circles around her waist as he lifted her shirt.
After that short conversation, Y/N’s nights consisted of sneaking out to meet Luke. He taught her how to wield an ax, how to knock someone out, and even explained how to dismember a body. Clearly, he had studied these dark topics.
Y/N lay on the forest floor, staring up at the stars. Luke was nearby, his arm lazily slung around her waist and pulling her closer towards him.
“We have to be careful.” He whispered in her ear, tucking a strand of her hair away. Y/N knew that if Luke went down, she’d be forced with him and vice versa. He pressed a light kiss to her neck, inhaling the smell of her floral perfume.
Luke had a twisted obsession with the idea of murder. It thrilled him. The vivid image in his mind of blood splattered across the floor and limbs bent at awkward angles made his stomach churn but... it was exciting.
"Luke... what are we doing with our lives?" Y/N muttered, turning to face him. When had everything gone downhill? When did they suddenly turn into borderline murders and sadists? Perhaps Luke was always like this and he infected Y/N with his disease. But if she was willing to do anything to become popular, even drive a knife through someone's heart, then it just showed Luke that she might be as abnormal as him. “Princess,” Luke’s voice was barely a whisper as he handed her a cigarette. He often kept them hidden under his mattress, only taking them out when he needed to destress. He lit the tip for her and watched as she slowly took a drag, blowing out a mouthful of smoke.
The pair stared down at the body in front of them. They weren’t dead, merely knocked out. Outside, the wind was relentless. It smashed against the wooden walls of the abandoned cabin, as if warning Y/N and Luke to stop whatever madness they were about to commit.
BORN IN GRIEF,
“Do you ever think it could have been different if the gods gave a fuck about us?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. She took another drawl from the cigarette before passing it over to Luke. “Would we be less… messed up if they actually cared?”
Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But this is who we are, we can’t change that.”
RAISED IN HATE,
Y/N would never admit it out loud but she and Luke were sick. Sick for even thinking of doing this and suddenly, Y/N’s stomach lurched. A tiny morsel of her personal morals held her back from approaching the body but she was also curious. How long would it take until the demigod before them realised their doom?
HELPLESS TO DEFY THEIR FATE.
They stirred but their eyes never fluttered open. Luke and Y/N exchanged a look before he gestured her forward. She held the wooden handle of the ax tightly, dragging it along the floor as she stepped towards the unconscious body.
Y/N was unusually calm when she lifted the ax, the sharp blade glinting in the moonlight. Suddenly, the demigod awoke with a desperate gasp. They scrambled back at the sight of Y/N.
LET THEM RUN,
“Please, don’t… what have I ever done to you? Don’t kill me! I haven’t even completed a quest or been claimed yet!” The demigod clasped their hands together, begging for sweet mercy. Y/N merely gazed at them, wide-eyed and unmoving.
“I’m afraid she won’t listen to you.” Luke made his presence known. The demigod’s eyes flickered over to him and they let out another gasp. They couldn’t beloved that Luke, the son of Hermes, the heartthrob of Camp Half-Blood was sitting idly on the sidelines while his companion was staring at them like they were an experiment. Simply a hypothesis that needed to be tested.
“She works for me. She’d kill her best friend if I told her to.” Luke gestured for Y/N to continue. The ax was raised above her head, ready to pierce the heart. Y/N swiftly swung the blade down. It buried itself in the demigod’s chest and a drowned-out scream slipped past their lips.
LET THEM LIVE,
Y/N’s eyes shook as she stared at the body in what could only be described as desperation. Desperation to land another sick blow.
Y/N lost count of how many times she raised the ax up and swung it down. All she could think about was the euphoria and giddiness rushing to her head. Blood stained her skin but she didn’t stop until the demigod was nothing but a mangled corpse, unable to be identified just by looking at their gruesome face.
Thunder crashed and lightning flickered. Rain poured down, the gods’ way of expressing their grave disappointment.
BUT DO NOT FORGET WHAT WE CANNOT FORGIVE.
Luke blew out another cloud of smoke, gazing at Y/N with his own twisted version of love. “Red looks good on you.” He uttered, spinning her around like she was in a beautiful ball gown and he was her date to prom.
Y/N laughed, the thrill of killing taking over. Luke’s lips curved into a smile. He had never heard the sound of her laugher before. And he was already intoxicated. Her lips tasted like smoke and tangy metal and he pulled her closer.
THEY ARE NOT ONE OF US, NOT OUR KIND.
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dulcewrites · 2 years
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Fool Me Once
Pairing: aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 2.4k)
Summary: Learning about Aemond’s indiscretions hurts more than you thought it would, and leads you to accepting help from an unlikely source.
Warnings: gaslighting and manipulation on Aemond’s part, reader being slightly naive :(
A/N: I love rewatching certain eps or scenes for inspo. I got inspo for this watching the iconic knife scene. Very interested lately in writing women that eventually (and rightfully) snap after being actively harmed by patriarchy/the men in their lives. Also alys and aemond meet after the dance starts but let’s pretend they meet right before viserys passes. This will have a slightly ambiguous ending… for funsies 🫶🏽
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You consider yourself a forbearing person. Your resigned nature was natural to you, but also the way you’ve been bred to be. Your mother especially preaching that good things come to those who not only wait but keep their heads while waiting. This idea only got compounded once your family arrived at court in King’s Landing. Now you had septas, on top of your mother, teaching you the ways of a ‘proper’ lady. Demure, well read and groomed, and obedient. You did was expected because what else could you do. Your parents were in your ear telling you do not waste the opportunity in front of you. An opportunity for a better life.
For a time, you thought your mother had a point. You did as you were told, and good things fell into place. Princess Helaena and you became fast friends through your lessons. Your interest in plants crossing over with her interest in insects and arachnids. Through your friendship with her, you caught the eye of Queen Alicent.
Despite your shy disposition, you managed to get in the good graces of the most powerful family in the Seven Kingdoms. You trusted the process.
But the cracks in the restrictive facade started once the discussion marriage entered the picture. You knew marrying for love was not something everyone was afforded, but you thought maybe you had a chance. There were tries for courtships here and there, but it was something you kept putting off. The clock was ticking, and no one let you forget it. Especially after your friends, including Helaena, started getting married and having families of their own.
You still remember the thrilled smile on your mother’s face when Queen Alicent not so subtly suggested a union between Prince Aemond and you.
The One-Eyed Prince. He had been nice enough towards you. But you were sure most of that was out of sheer obligation because his mother and sister liked you. Despite the love you have for Helaena and the respect you have for the queen, the idea of marrying into the family terrified you. You saw the burden and hurt each of them carried. Even with the possibility that Aemond wasn’t as bad as Prince Aegon or King Viserys, his brooding nature still made you nervous for what a marriage with him would mean.
“Your work has paid off my sweet girl”
It took a simple sentence from your mother to change your mind. The ever growing need to be validated spurred you into a decision you’d later question.
The courtship was quick and to the point, much like Aemond. He wasn’t thrilled with the decision. Then again, happiness was not an emotion you’d seen him exude very often. You did not know what it looked like.
Throughout the courting, wedding celebrations, wedding itself and after, you two had a mutual understanding or so you thought.
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You saw the change in him. When you’re all but forced to spend your days with someone, you notice their behavior more. He’s lighter it seems. You don’t know how to explain it, but he moves different.
The only feeling you can compare it to is when you were pregnant with Daella, your daughter. For all his faults, you can acknowledge that Aemond is a good father. He was from the moment the maester told you two the news. He was attentive and uncharacteristically warm to you during your pregnancy. And then he acted as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders when she was born. Even now, he indulges her rambunctious antics and playful conduct in a way he wouldn’t for anyone else. His precious byka zaldrīzes
His devotion never wanes when it comes to her. It was a different story for you and him.
It was foolish, but so typical of you. You had done your duty so well that you’re now in the position of having genuine feelings for him. Wanting your husband shouldn’t be a problem. But craving the love and affection of an enigma like Aemond is not for the faint hearted.
“Is my brother with his whore tonight,” his words were cruel, but he genuinely seemed curious. Aegon and you always had a strange relationship. He wasn’t rude though certainly not kind. You remember overhearing the way he described you after you two first met: pretty but terribly dull. You didn’t know what hurt worse: him saying that or the lack of pushback from Aemond.
“Aegon!”
Alicent gives you a pained look before pulling Aegon to side during dinner. You can tell by her scowl and his now sheepish facial expression that she’s using some choice words.
You thank the seven that Daella was asleep after a long day of playing with her cousins and wasn’t at dinner. The empty spot next to you feels vast. This is the third dinner he has missed. It never occurred to you that Aemond would seek companionship elsewhere. Now that it’s on your mind, you can’t forget it.
His whore
Aemond and Aegon are not the same. You know Aemond is not the type for frivolous intimate moments with silk street brothel women. You also know the intimacy he seeks requires knowing someone. He requires way more stimulation. Whether that is a blessing or a curse… you don’t know.
Aegon’s comment had you on high alert. Paranoid even. When Aemond is away, you wonder what he’s doing and who with. It only gets worse the sicker King Viserys grows. It shows on everyone in the family. Queen Alicent gets more anxious for what’s to come, Aegon lashes out, Helaena becomes more cryptic and silent, you wonder how this will impact your already complex relationship with this family, but then there’s Aemond. He shrugs off any ill feelings towards the situation.
At first you wondered if it is because he’s the only one that’s made peace with that relationship never being mended. He didn’t seem to seek out the same approval or explanation for Viserys’ bad parenting that everyone else still craves. With the King dying, meant the chance of change dying as well. But really his mind is elsewhere.
You know you’ve reached a new low when you try to pry information from Ser Criston. If anyone knows where Aemond sneaks off to, you assume it would be Criston. But in the end, it was wrong to go to him. Criston is fiercely loyal to Alicent and in turn fiercely loyal to her children. Though he has treated you kindly, he would never give up more information than he had to.
The idea greatly backfires when then you find yourself the one being questioned.
“If you want to know where I go, you could simply ask,” Aemond’s tone is cool and composed. It makes you uneasy.
He leans leisurely against the wall. You freeze hearing that declaration. Criston must’ve told him about your worries. It feels a bit surreal now having the opportunity to confront him about your thoughts. The words run through your head but never seem to make it out of your mouth.
“You know I like going for long rides with Vhagar,” he starts walking towards you. “She’s older; she needs to stay sharp.”
You do know that. It’s something you found endearing about him, despite how you feel about dragons.
“I just feel like I haven’t seen you much,” you manage to get it out with a forced smile. “Like you’re always away.”
He tilts his head to the side in question. You feel like one of Helaena’s bugs. Inspected and poked.
“You don’t like being around Vhagar,” he points out. “I’d love to take you with me, but you don’t want that now do you.”
You look down at your hands. He doesn’t get it. He has the blood of the dragon flowing through him. For him, Vhagar is a symbol of pride and declaration of love for his ancestors and house. To you, she’s an unpredictable power that you still think humans should not mess with. It’s better to chalk it up to you fearing versus bringing up how you really feel about them. How you share the same skepticism many people across the Seven Kingdoms do. It scares you to think about Daella getting a dragon of her own. You see the awe in her eyes when she looks at her egg or when Aemond tells her stories of the past and present that include them.
Oh, the irony of you being weary of dragons while bounded to a man who rides the biggest of them all.
“No, I don’t,” you mumble. You finally work up the courage to bring up what you really want. “It’s just Aegon said something about you, and I guess it made me think about where you go so often.”
The words adultery or whore make your tongue feel heavy, and don’t come out He sighs once he reaches you, grabbing your face in his hands making you look at him.
“My wife do not let the thoughts of the small minded people cloud your judgment,” he leans his forehead down to yours. “You’re smarter than that.”
He’s not wrong, it is like Aegon stir things up. Aemond has a way of doing this. A way of making you feel silly with his self-assurance. He makes it easy to doubt your gut instincts. His affection has a similar debilitating quality. It’s why your head gets a bit fuzzy when he kisses you. A warm and gentle kiss that left you a bit weak in the knees. You sigh when his lips move to the sensitive spot under your ear.
“We should have another babe,” his whisper makes your eyes shoot open. “Give Daella a sibling.”
You pull away, eyes wide. As much as you loved how Aemond doted on you while you were with Daella, you also remember how difficult the experience was. How towards the end, you were basically confined to the castle as to not risk your health or the babe’s. Your every thought being on the life in your stomach.
“A little warrior would be nice, no?”
Aemond had told you he’s not picky about how many children you two have or even the sex of them. But you’re sure like any noble man, he wants his blood and name passed on as much as possible. Especially as a Targaryen. You’d be lying if you said the thought of a little boy didn’t make you happy. Your children hopefully having a strong bond.
You look at the seemingly earnest look in his eye. You nod with a nervous smile, and he kisses you again. That night being the first of many he tried to put an heir in you.
He wouldn’t want another child while his heart is not it… right?
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You gingerly rub your stomach while leaning your head back against the seat. Ever grateful that you have Queen Alicent and Helaena to keep you company and help. Taking Daella off your hands during the day while you rest, your pregnancy making you more tired.
Before you can fall asleep, your lady in waiting peaks her head in the room.
“I’m sorry to disturb you princess, but Lord Strong has requested to see you.”
Your brows furrow. You have seen Larys Strong around, but outside of that he’s been a mystery to you. A figure looming in the background but never someone you interacted with regularly.
“Send him in.”
Lord Strong comes in, small smile on his face. You motion for him to sit in the chair next to you.
“Princess, you’re glowing,” he starts as he sits. “The halls are buzzing with excitement about a new babe.”
You raise a brow. Maybe you outwardly look better than you feel because you don’t feel positively glowing. Not in the slightest. You didn’t feel this exhausted till later when you had Daella.
“Thank you Lord Strong,” you try to keep a kind smile on your face. “What can I do for you today?”
“I just wanted to check in. Let you know that if you need anything, I am always of service.”
You nod slowly, confused about where this is all coming from. What service?
“I know how stressful being with child can be, especially when the father is… busy,” he continues, leaning back in the seat.
Your smile drops. For a time, you did think things were getting better. Aemond seemed excited when you two found out you were with child again. Things were good till they weren’t anymore. He’s not around again, and now you are going to bring another life into an unstable situation. The tone of Larys’ voice makes you uneasy. He smiles like he knows something you don’t.
“I appreciate the kindness, but I do not think your um services are needed.”
He nods at that before reaching into his pocket and handing you what you assume is a letter. He motions you to read it. You stare at the outside of letter. recognizing your husband’s handwriting.
My Alys
Your hands shake as you open the letter. Your vision gets blurred with tears as certain words and phrases stand out. Miss you, need to see you, miserable at King’s Landing, love you. Your squeeze your eyes shut when you see words mistake, baby, and your name in the same sentence.
“Those pesky ravens, sometimes they do the maddest things,” Larys whispers softly. “My princess, the woman the letter is for is an… old friend of mine. If you need me to keep an eye on this or even take care of anything, just let me know. I am always here.”
You look at him as he gets up to leave, lip trembling. Your eyes move stare at the fire in front of you. Fire, blood, and dragons have all consumed your life now.
Is this why you don’t under the understand the obsession with dragons. You hate the ludicrous insistence that you can control them. That if you give them enough love and patience that they will need you the way you need them. Good behavior has gotten you nothing. Doing right by the dragons in your life has gotten you nowhere. Aemond is not yours despite the vows you took, or sacrifices you’ve made for him. The same way your children will never be yours despite the pain you take to have them.
You’ve been burned by the very dragon that’s supposed to protect you.
“Lord Strong,” you blurt before he gets to the door. He turns to you expectedly. “There is something you can do for me actually.”
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fancyfeathers · 4 months
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zainiscompletelydone333 asked a question
omg but imagine william's potential darling to be like agatha christie? a mystery writer whose mysteries are almost impossible to solve. whether or not they are as smart as the masterminds or detectives in her books, her stories do come close to confusing even sherlock or william a bit. if you've read her "and then there were none" SPOILERS its about a judge killing people for being evil and that is so william coded. anyways i'm straying far what I mean is william could be a quiet fan, and as the lord of crime, even replicate some of her stories as part of his crimes. watching his darling's face pale at the unknown criminal doing such a thing.....ASDKSHD an when he finally does officially meet her, he wonders if she'l ever base a character off him. a hero, or perhaps a villain?
For some reason this isn’t showing up in my tumblr inbox but thank god for my email cause this is a gem! Thank you @zainiscompletelydone333 for this!
Okay I love Agatha Christie, an actual icon! Fun fact she actually faked her own disappearance in 1926 and the police couldn’t find her for over a week and she just took a vacation to London after her husband threatened to leave her and she said fuck it and decided to treat herself. Then also Arthur Conan Doyle the author of Sherlock Holmes was hired to find her.
Anyway I am getting so off track but I love this lady so much so here we go!!!
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But yes William would absolutely adore a darling like her. Imagine him first finding her works for the first time, perhaps one of his brothers or Sebastian or Fred was reading her work and just out of curiosity he picks up one of her books and is just immediately enthralled. Whenever he is not busy he is reading or even rereading one of her books and even begins to be teased by others for his slight addiction to her works.
Then when he and Sherlock is on the train investigating the murder that is when he gets an idea from both this and one of her books.
Weeks later an aristocrat who had been acting as a loan shark was found dead on a train in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside, just like a murder from one of her most famous book…
But what William did not know is that she was on that same train…
And of course she found the body…
As William was making his way back to his seat to join his brothers, he hears a blood curdling scream and he simply chalks it up to someone finding the body. Then the panicked woman is brought to her seat by the staff and she looks a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down her face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body.
She is being asked questions when she finally calms down enough and William’s ears prick up as he hears words he never thought he would hear…
“Oh god… this is my fault…”
He turns his head to the booth next to him and sees her in absolute terror as she speaks to the train conductor.
She is right next to him…
She is terrified, horrified even…
And she is beautiful.
After everything from that incident had settled and she is off at home, trying to work on her next work for the life of her but being horrified by what she just witnessed…
Then more deaths come to surface all with the same pattern…
They are based on her books…
The author is absolutely horrified, she is loosing sleep, not eating as she should, and has rarely left her house in weeks…
Then she gets a knock on her door from a certain detective who was hired to look into one of the deaths, Sherlock Holmes. While he may like her books, he has noticed the pattern like she has and has one request for her…
“I want to help you to solve these cases. Who better to solve murders based on books better than the author herself?”
At first she refuses and dismisses him, but then when she is laying in bed that night she realizes he was right.
Her drawing room becomes a mess of her old notes that she had tucked away from when she wrote her book, copies of her her books with dozens bookmarks in them, newspaper clippings all around, and evidence she had Sherlock get access to with his connections that she doesn’t have.
After days of pure investigation and nights of no sleep she finally was able to figure out where the next murder will be, just by what books are left…
But that’s the thing…
There is not a single work of hers left that this murderer has not take inspiration from…
The only thing left is the author, and she can only assume that she is the next target. So without telling Sherlock, she packs up her bags and fakes her own disappearance, to fool both the police and the murderer.
She spends so much time in the shadows, watching and waiting to see who looks into her disappearance, seeing how people react to it, but nothing, not a thing…
It frustrates her even further…
Then she finally decides to return home, feeling like a failure. Her house if just how she left it, even the papers in the drawing room that look like the work of a madman that she will have to clean up after her failure so she can go back to what she is good at, fictional murders not really ones…
No she can’t do that, that would only give the murderer ideas…
So she quits.
No one hears from her for months as she nods herself taking up a librarian position at a local library, at least she is doing something with her literature. She says goodbye to Mr. Holmes and tucks away all her old books and works in progress that will never be finished on the shelves to collect dust for the rest of her life.
At her time working there she gets a frequent visitor at the library, a Mr. William James Moriarty. He had a fascination with murder mystery novels and the two form a quick friendship over their shared love of them. Everything feels like a new start, a clean slate but then he had to ask…
“Will you ever write again?”
That question has her heart hurt because she adores writing, but to sacrifice lives just for what she enjoys, she would never. She shuts down his question quickly and excuses herself, but then avoids the scarlet eyed man as to not be asked that question again.
But as she is laying in bed one night…
She hears the sound of footsteps in her study downstairs…
She feels her heart stop…
She closes her eyes and prays whoever is there will just go away, but they do not. So she musters whatever courage she has left and slips out of bed to see who is there in her study that has been collecting dust for almost a year…
And she approaches the closed door she realizes whoever is behind them must be the person behind the murders that gave plagued her and-
“William?”
The pangs of shock she feels in her chest when she sees the face of William Jane Moriarty looking through her unfinished works that she shelved away what felt like years ago. She must have looked like a deer in headlights as the Lord of Crime looking up at her with a smile, his red eyes staring into her soul…
She is terrified, horrified even…
And she is beautiful.
“Your unfinished work, will it have an ending? Or perhaps will we have to write one ourselves? What do you think, darling?”
The weeks go by and the next time the author is seen in public again she has an engagement ring on her finger and the announcement is being made about their upcoming wedding. The talk of the aristocracy says that she finally has a husband who is willing to deal with her crazied ideas that ended up killing so many people, not knowing that she is on the arm of the man who killed them…
Just for her.
(I could kinda imagine it ending up as a situation like the book Misery by Stephen King where he has her finish her work even if she doesn’t want to, but what differs is that while he doesn’t necessarily keep her locked up physically he does mentally. Sure go run off, he isn’t going to stop his darling, but just watch the bodies stack up pin ways she imagined, he is using her own mind against her which is the most terrifying of prisons. Then soon fear turns into dependency, she becomes terrified of him leaving her because now she has no where else to go but him so he has no need to hide her away when she clings to his arm like a terrified and wounded animal.)
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yellowocaballero · 2 months
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i very much enjoy the extremely scientific analysis of the naruto verse in which there are three genders, aka naruto, sasuke, and Woman.
AM I WRONG? AM I WRONG? pulls down projection screen and plays powerpoint
Obviously let's give room for nuance. A ton of Naruto characters don't fall into these gender norms. This does predominantly apply to the rampant proliferation of the three-person dynamics that were assigned by the government and dictate your entire life. And, like, society. It does not end. Gender isn't a biological factor in Naruto, it's a social dynamic constructed entirely by your homoerotic tension with other men. And there are so many.
Madara (S), Hashirama (N), Mito (W). Izuna (N) and Tobirama (S) - tragically, Izuna died before women could be invented. Sarutobi (N), Danzo (S, horrifically) - see above about women not being invented yet. Jiraiya (N), Orochimaru (S), Tsunade (W). Yahiko (N), Nagato (S), Konan (W). Obito (N), Kakashi (S), Rin (W). Shisui (N), Itachi (S), that little deeply unimportant girlfriend (W). Um, fucking, Naruto (N), Sasuke (S), Sakura (W). Even - even, fuckin, Rock Lee (N), Neiji (S), Tenten (W).
And what do they all have in common????
(OT3. They're all OT3s. Is what I'm saying).
There is some room for alternative gender expressions here, like being butch or femme. Naruto gender expressions: teacher, otouto, woman who you can't even tell is woman gendered because she has no backstory but you just have to kinda assume that she has a polycule-based backstory where she was Woman Gender. I feel almost as if 2/3rds of the Rookie 9 are liberated from this. InoShikaCho just doesn't fit (their chaotic cousin energy is just too strong and Ino's too much of a lesbian). Hinata's too busy being defined entirely by a different throuple's N to have codependent dynamics with her own N and S (and I'm hesitant to even say that, since I actually don't know if Kiba and Shino have a codependent rivalry - do they?).
I get, like, the reason for all of this. Curse of Hatred. Cycles. N and S Genders being sourced from demigods or something. Narrative parallelism. Sympathy points. It's not the bad guy's fault he's evil, his N and W gendered counterparts died :(. But an extremely strange side-effect of this is that all of the male characters are, like, Just Naruto or Just Sasuke. But the vast majority of the female characters are - like, completely defined by the men in their lives - but also they are more likely to be a unique person. Mito, Sakura, and Rin have actually nothing in common. Writing so sexist it creates more interesting characters?!?!
Unironically, this is why I'm always saying that Sasunaru is the ship of all time, nothing will ever top it, you will NEVER do it like Sasunaru, etc. Every important relationship in the series is meant to evoke Sasunaru. (Notably, none of the explicitly romantic ones. But we're beyond such paltry understandings of the most iconic pairing of all time as fundamentally based in romance. We're operating on a higher level than that). This unbroken chain of toxic yaoi has culminated at the end point of Sasunaru, and it exists to parallel Sasunaru and define their relationship by the dysfunction of generations of tragedy. That's why Naruto has to consciously break the cycle and free them from the generational hate - it was the only way to save Sasuke. This is also why I'm always saying that Sasunaru is the point of Naruto, and that the entirety of Naruto is about Sasunaru. Come back to me when your work has invented new genders in the all-encompassing pursuit of toxic yaoi.
This also means that the only truly gender non-conforming individuals in Naruto are its mightiest heterosexuals: Minato (W) and Kushina (N). Truly insane. The N/S/W configuration is the societal norm, it's bonkers to make a major good-aligned male character a wifeguy. By Naruto standards Minato and Kushina are the only queer couple.
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genericpuff · 8 days
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think rachel needed the hire a bunch of writers instead of drawing assistants after season one so she could focus on one part and not get burnt out while someone else kept track of and developed all her plot points in a lore Bible or something
Honestly yeah, LO is a huge example of why the Webtoons' editors don't actually function as editors, more so just messenger pigeons between the creators and the company who are there to make sure creators are following ToS and otherwise answering questions on behalf of the higher-ups for the creators. And this is especially wild for something like LO because 1.) you'd think the #1 webtoon on the platform would be given all the resources it needs to succeed, and 2.) LO's editor in the end was Bre Boswell who actually has a background in television writing (and yet ironically, the series only got worse after Bre suddenly replaced the previous editors around Ep 100).
Rachel's strong points have always been in conceptual design and illustration. Despite this, LO's own iconic design and illustration aspects that made people fall in love with it in the first place were lost after it became as big as it did. I know folks will argue that LO's production was purely the fault of Webtoons' insane deadlines, but her writing has always been her weakest point and that's evident in all of her previous works prior to LO. She's good at coming up with standalone ideas - again, concepts - but executing them and finalizing them through an actual conclusion beyond the initial idea is always something she's struggled with.
This is also apparent to a point in her art as well, as much as her strengths used to be in illustration and conceptual design, she also clearly struggled in staying committed to the same character designs and concepts for long periods of time and was never good at coming up with efficient ways to reproduce her own art - even gorgeous comics like The Doctor Foxglove Show started off strong just to inevitably slip into the same habits of inconsistent half-assing that LO did, and it wasn't even an Originals series.
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Back to the writing though, she absolutely would have benefited from having another writer or two on her team, but unfortunately she also doesn't seem like she's aware of her own faults in her writing or willing to let anyone else in on her process, especially considering she's even admitted that her own writing process is "chaos" and has supposedly convinced herself that the faults in her writing are a good thing.
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There's "embracing the chaos" of your own process (my process is chaotic too, I get it) and then there's just going "oh well, sucks to suck, I don't want to bother doing better for the sake of my own dedicated audience so it's fine if I totally whiff the comic's plot".
The reality is that if you've never learned how to identify and break your own bad habits, you'll inevitably think that those bad habits are the norm and/or are what makes you good at what you do - all the while, you wind up missing what could have actually helped you. Rachel started off on a very strong foot with the concept of LO, but then inevitably fell into the exact same bad habits she had with previous works but was now enabled by the contract and money and fame she got through Webtoons to never change - after all, if she was going to keep being rewarded Eisners and merch deals anyways regardless of the quality of her writing/art, what point would there be in improving? From my perspective, she clearly doesn't really have the integrity to improve for the sake of herself and her audience, so as long as the end result is to her benefit, the means don't really matter.
Of course, in the long-term it makes for a very horrid legacy especially in hindsight, but as far as I'm concerned, she got what she wanted regardless.
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24-jay-42 · 24 days
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Since the Bells Hells Are most likely going to be spending some time in Vasselheim talking to some gods, Here’s who I think It would be cool if each member of the bells hells talked too. I’ll only be listing gods that would be easily accessible in Vasselheim, so no Betrayers or lesser idols:
Orym:
The Wildmother - We’ve already seen them interact and Her even bestowing him the first known Relic of the red solstice. But i wouldn’t exactly say no to more
Imogen:
Stormlord - Obviously the red storm, and that she’s already interested in talking to him. But I also think “Where does your strength Come from?” is very interesting and compelling for her. We’ve heard a few times how she feels tempted by the power Predathos offers. And she has already displayed her strength and force of will in resisting it. I’m hoping she comes up with an answer for herself that strengthens that resolve even further
Laudna:
Dawnfather - While I still the matron would be cool and make a lot of sense, I also wanted to propose the Dawnfather. The matron is very anti-undead and doesn’t like those who defy fate and death, Which Laudna is actively doing. The Dawnfather Has some interesting Things in his tenets about not forgetting the lessons of the past, and Laudna (and Chetney) Has always been the one to point such things out. The Dawnfather Represents the sun, renewal and rebirth. Laudna’s Connection to the suntree. Also, Vex was a champion of the Dawnfather, could make for some interesting story telling.
Chetney:
The All Hammer - Yes, The craft god for the craftsman. But when it fits it fits. And it goes beyond just their shard love of craft. The All Hammer’s tenants promote Leaving a Legacy. “To create something that lasts is to change the world for the better”. As as we know from Nanna Mori, That’s something Chetney wants and values. Moradin is also god of clan, Family and the home. He promotes Loyalty. Chetney is nothing If not loyal. Even if he sometimes speaks and acts in a way that seems a bit sketchy, (eg. just recently with the bright queen and not telling ashton) But in the end he is always loyal, such as when he choose to administer a potion in the otohan fight instead of drinking it himself. Moradin also tells his followers to remain Stoic and tenacious in the face of Catastrophe, And he proved that by asking about Molaesmyr straight to Ludinus’ Face and many many more times
Dorian:
This one’s a bit difficult. Because of recent experiences and his current mindset (which i don’t blame him for), i think he will find it difficult to approach a god. The arch Heart is a good pick, art god for the bard. Anti-lolth. But I can also easily see the Law-bearer. He is now the eldest Prince and heir of the Silken-squall. Some guidance might help him. But i’m not sure.
Braius:
The Platinum Dragon - Sam and Braius have both said that since receiving truthbearer, this might be a sign. A chance for redemption. And honestly i don’t see the platinum dragon, The pillar of justice, protection, nobility, and honour discarding and condemning Braius for something that was barely his fault: Failing to stop an ultimately harmless Prank. One of Bahmut’s tenets is “Smite evil wherever it is found, yet show compassion to those who have strayed from the path of righteousness”. There is something so Raw and compelling about him keeping his Broken Holy Symbol. No matter what happens, his relationship isn't over yet. Braius is currently the Character with the largest connection to the gods so whatever he chooses will be interesting.
Fearne:
The Moonweaver - Not only do they match each other's energy perfectly: Fey trickery. Seizing your own destiny through your passions. “Walk unbridled and untethered, forging new memories and experiences” is just what fearne does on the daily. But also, Stealing Catha from the moonweaver is Literally Zathuda’s whole prerogative. It would be so Ironic if they instead worked together to steal Gloamglut away from him. absolute icon behaviour.
Ashton:
Ashton’s interesting. I obviously want him to talk to the Luxon and the Titan. But if i where to pick a deity.
The Changebringer - For F.C.G obviously. Ashton still has his change bringer coin that he took from the stone. But it goes beyond that. In my opinion The changebringer kinda suits Ashton better then FCG. Rising against Tyranny, change for the better. In terms of Luck Favouring the bold he can literally manipulate luck. Not to mention how tremendously lucky surviving that shard was. I in no way think he would ever become a follower, but I could see this as a sort of alliance. However reluctant.
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everybodyshusband · 24 days
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uhhh in My Feels™️ so woe, ansgt be upon ye !!!
disabled rain, angst, hurt/not much comfort, it's just sad and a bit weird and bad i'm sorry ksdfjnsfkdf divider by the icon that is @/wrathofrats
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Rain is a jealous ghoul. He’s always known it.
It’s fun, sometimes. Fun to let his packmates play with his jealousies until he just can’t help but snap. Until he’s got one of them over his lap, turned on beyond belief, skin red hot, as they beg for his mercy. As they apologise for daring to belong to anyone but him.
So yes, his jealousy is fun, but he never expected for it to manifest like this.
The first time, he thought he was just overtired. Anger boiling inside of him caused by lack of sleep the previous night rather than jealousy of one of his packmates. After all, this is a stupid thing to be jealous about, and the night before, well… He’d been rather too busy being taken apart inch by painstaking inch by Zephyr to really have had any modicum of decent sleep at all. So again, why was he jealous? Why is he still jealous? What motive did he have to be jealous of the ghoul that was in his bed only the night before?
It wasn’t until Aeon was summoned that he figured it out. Until the sensation of his blood boiling could be tied to more than just an abstract feeling of annoyance bubbling under his skin. With Aeon, he’s never felt his usual jealousy—the quintessence ghoul is in his bed more often than not, so why would he? What he has felt however, has been that awful, sick feeling of hatred every time that new ghoul stumbles. Complains of his ailments. Asks to borrow one of Zephyr’s old canes or pairs of forearm crutches for stability on a particularly bad day.
That’s when it had all clicked together. Aeon. Zephyr. Sometimes even Mountain or Cumulus.
But never Rain.
His jealousy stems from the fact that they get help. They are allowed to be in pain, to be uncomfortable. They have a reason. They have been seen by Omega, by Aether, by the team in the infirmary, and they all have something different about them.
Rain doesn’t.
Rain, with the hyperextended legs that apparently cause him no medical difficulties and yet still stumbles during practice or onstage. Rain, with the perfect iron count whose vision still turns to static when he stands up. Rain, with joints that ache, bones that pop, a head that never quite seems to be able to pay attention as well as the others, but he’s fine. No matter how hard he presses that something is wrong, he’s fine. Nevermind that he’s been Up Top for years, nevermind that he’s done all that he can to treat this on his own. Nevermind that he’s getting worse. He’s fine, at least that’s what Aether had told him the last time he took a trip to the infirmary.
So yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of Zephyr’s chair on their bad days and the fact that Aeon feels no shame in asking to borrow mobility aids from ghouls that aren’t using them. He’s jealous that Cumulus only needs to ask Aether for a wrist splint before one is in her lap, being meticulously fastened by the quintessence ghoul himself. He’s tried to reign it in, the intensity of his emotions about this, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t. He knows it’s not anyone’s fault, least of all Aeth’s or Meg’s—they’re just doing their jobs, there’s protocol they have to follow—but that knowledge doesn’t stop the jealousy, the aggravation, the hatred of his beloved packmates for simply existing in a way that he’s not allowed to. For getting help in a way that he’s too scared to ask for.
He often thinks that perhaps this is why he’s so angry, so jealous. It’s his own fault he can’t—won’t—ask for help from any of them. He knows he’s allowed to. He knows that Aether and Omega would be more than happy to bend the rules a little to help him out, or that Zephyr wouldn’t mind lending him a (literal) something to lean on when Rain needs it. But he’s scared. Scared that if they can help, he won’t be in pain anymore and he’s been lying this whole time. And scared that if they can’t, that he’s unfixable, untreatable. That this vessel is just another one of God’s mistakes that Satan never bothered to fix. Maybe it is. Maybe there’s no fixing him. No helping him.
He hopes that’s not the case. As much as getting whatever this is fixed scares him, he knows he can’t go on like this forever. His pack knows it too. Zephyr had noticed it first. They’d sat him down one day in their room and had simply waited until it had all come pouring out in a mess of tears and snot and helplessness. Since then, the pack have known what’s been happening and as a collective, they’ve been doing their best to help him. It’s nice, he thinks. For them to be so kind to a being as broken as himself. One day he’ll try his best to repay them all. For now though, he just needs to work up the energy to swing his legs over the edge of his mattress, to muster up the courage to call Aeon and ask for his help, and maybe a cane.
Or maybe he’ll just stay in bed a while longer...
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