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#eat there during lunch if you were polite. it was like a good hour of silence and books it was fantastic
sturniqlo · 3 months
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In Between- M.S
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summary: with their usual bickering, Y/n and Chris escalate into a heated argument and Matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother
cw: angst, cursing, crying, fluff at the end
an: thank you to @ik33pitundercover for this wonderful idea (if you have any idea pls comment them here or in my 'send requests' in my bio and i might make them happen!)
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Before Matt and Y/n got together, it was always Chris and Y/n the bestest of friends. Though they never had any feelings for each other, they were always together. Everyone always told them they had a sibling like relationship. And they both agreed. They constantly bickered, pushed each other around playfully, just everything siblings would do. Eventually, the two other brothers, Nick and Matt, also became close with Y/n.
A couple of month of hanging out one on one, Y/n and Matt ended up dating. And Chris couldn't be happier. His brother and best friend were both together what more could he ask for?
Earlier today, Chris had texted Y/n if she was down to hangout. She politely declined, telling Chris she was going to hangout with Matt for most of the day. He understood and responded to her that he'll probably hangout with his other friends. He was a bit bummed to say the least. Chris can't remember the last time him and Y/n hung out one on one. Not that he was jealous of her and Matt, never. He just wanted to spend some time with his best friend.
After messaging Y/n, he didn't text any of his other friends, too upset to even hang out with anyone else. As the day went on, Nick had came into Chris' room to ask if he wanted to go hangout with him and Madi, he declined. When the afternoon came by, he ordered takeout and ate his taco bell. After eating he hopped on fortnite and played a couple of rounds before deciding to take a nap.
Y/n spent the whole morning and afternoon with Matt. Although she did feel a bit bad for declining Chris, Matt reassured her and told her Chris would be fine. Around ten in the morning, she picked Matt up in her car, and drove them to their usual breakfast spot. They shared each others plate and were both bloated with good food at the end of it. During their breakfast time, Matt had mentioned how Chris had seemed a bit down as of lately. "Do you think it's because you haven't hung out with him?" He said while taking a bite of his pancake. "I've hung out with him. We were all together last weekend." She replied.
"Yeah, I get that but, I mean one on one." Matt didn't mind at all when his brother and girlfriend hung out one on one. He liked that she had a good relationship with Chris and Nick. "Oh, yeah, I see it now. Maybe I can plan something with him next week? If he want to, that is." That conversation was a couple of hours ago. The time was now nearing five in the afternoon and Nick had called Matt that he was staying over at Madi's. "Do you think Chris is home?" Matt asked as they picked out the ingredients for tonight's activity. "Not sure, he texted me earlier that he might hang out with some of his friends."
Y/n and Matt had spent the afternoon at her place watching movies and playing games. Y/n ended up making them lunch, and here they are now in the grocery store. They had both agreed the would make something at Matt's house so Y/n can drive back to her place when she was ready to go. Matt was a bit bummed that she couldn't stay the night but understood that she had an exam early in the morning. "Wait, let me get Chris a pack of Pepsi. He told me he was running low yesterday." Y/n said, pushing the cart towards the soda isle.
"He seriously needs to cut down on the Pepsi. But we just keep feeding into it." Matt wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I agree."
Chris woke up to the sound of a loud bang followed by laughter coming from upstairs in the kitchen. He checked his phone and saw it was almost six in the afternoon. He had slept for about an hour and a half. Confused about the loud bang, he got up to check. Coming up the stairs half awake, he saw Y/n on the floor cleaning up what looked to be some sort of dessert batter. "The fuck happened in here?" Chris said, startling Y/n. "Oh shit! Chris what the hell, you scared me." Y/n stood up from her spot on the floor. "My bad." Chris scoffed, going to the fridge.
"I thought you were going out today?" She threw the many stained paper towels in the trash. "I was going to but, you declined." He threw some shade at her. "I told you I was sorry, Matt had this planned for a couple of days now." She said, walking away to go retrieve their mop. "Where's Matt anyways?" He asks, as Y/n fills up the mop bucket. "He spilled his cake batter on the floor and it got all over him so he went to shower."
"Oh, well clean this mess up then. It not gonna clean itself up." He points to the remaining with his water bottle. "Woah, who put a stick up your ass?" Y/n was taken back a bit. Most of the time she could tell when Chris was joking when saying rude comments because he always smiled and tries not to laugh whenever he says them, so does she, but, he seemed serious about this one. "Stop playing around. Are you going to clean it or not?" Chris slightly raises his voice. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.
"Okay, You've never talked to me like that and I'm not going to let you talk to me like that." She stops filling the bucket up and stares at Chris with a confused glare. What has gotten into him? "Whatever." He scoffs, as he starts walking towards his set of stairs. "Hey, no! You come back here and tell me what this is all about." She tells him, she slowly starts getting mad. "I'm not a fucking child for you to be talking to me like that." He fights back. "Well you're acting like one right now." She crosses her arms. "Just leave me alone and enjoy your time with my brother. Seems like he's the only one you've known for years."
"Is this about us not hanging out as much anymore?" She says as Chris turns back around to face her. "What do you think? You get with my brother and now you forget about me? Was being my friend just an act to get to Matt?" Chris yells. "Are you hearing yourself right now?" Y/n yells back, and she sees Matt walk in with wet hair. "What's going on." Chris turns his head to see who was talking. "Oh look, your boyfriend is back, looks like you won't be needing me this evening." He smiles sarcastically.
"You're being a fucking dick right now." She walks closer to him. "Woah, okay. Let's- why don't you two settle down. And talk without yelling." Matt intervenes and steps in the middle of the arguing pair. "Matt, move. Chris is being unreasonable and isn't thinking before he speaks." Y/n tries to move Matt out of the way. "Babe, hey, calm down. Tell me what happened."
"He came up the stairs and just started being rude to me. He's mad about me and him not hanging out as much. When he could've just told me in a nicely manner." Y/n leans her head at the last part to where Chris can see her. Chris only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you always tell me you're busy. Seems like you have time for everyone else besides me. I hope you're happy Matt, considering the fact that you ruined our friendship." Matt turns around. "Chris, I didn't ruin no friendship and your friendship with Y/n isn't ruined."
"Matt do you know what he said to me?" Matt shakes his head. "Oh, please enlighten him, Y/n." Chris says mockingly, she only rolls her eyes at him. "If you keep rolling em' they're going to get stuck." Chris adds. "Chris, stop it." Matt turns his head towards him "Go on." Matt tells her. "He told me that I only became friends with him to get with you. Can you believe that? He doesn't know the shit he's saying!"
"Chris? Do you really think that low of her?" Matt is shocked by all of this. He's never seen Chris and Y/n argue this bad. And it's making him upset that he's in the middle of this. "I'm starting to." Chris' comment ticks Y/n off. "That's it, I'm out of here." Y/n grabs her purse and phone and pushes through them. "Y/n come back." Matt gently grabs her arm. "I can't be in the same room as him right now. Not when he's acting all bitchy."
"I'm not acting bitchy, so get your facts straight." Chris adds on to her anger. "Chris that's enough." Matt raises his voice at his brother. "Here, come to my room to cool down and I'll talk to Chris, okay?" Matt softly talks to Y/n as he sees that she near bursting into tears. He knows she hates arguing with anybody. "Okay, okay." She whispers walking off to Matt's room, not making eye contact with her best friend.
Once Matt hears his room door close he starts going off on Chris. "What was that all about." He points to his room where Y/n is. "An argument, dumbass." Chris makes a smart mouth comment. "You know you could've talked to her like a normal person right? And to accuse her of using you so she could get to me was a low blow." Chris now realizes how bad it sounded. When Y/n entered Matt's room, she sat on his bed and let her tears out. She's never fought with Chris this bad. Yeah, they might've had a little argument or two over something small, but it never got to this point where someone had to intervene.
"Sorry, I got carried away. It's just, I miss hanging out with her. I feel like she's slowly forgetting about me ever since you two started dating." Chris says, wiping his eyes to prevent his tears to come down. "She's not forgetting about you, trust me. We always talk about whenever we hangout. And, she's also noticed how you two haven't been hanging out as much. Also, Im sorry for hogging her for months now." Matt tells Chris, earning a light chuckle from him at the last comment.
"Why don't you go in there and talk to her while I clean this up, okay?" Chris nods and starts walking towards Matt's room where Y/n currently is. He lightly knocks before opening the door. "Hey." Chris says, walking towards the bed to sit next to her. "Hi." She says, lifting her head off her knees. "I'm sorry about everything I said out there. I know you didn't use me to get to Matt. That was stupid of me to say." He shakes his head thinking back on it. "I just felt like you were forgetting about me and I was upset and let out my anger on you instead of talking to you like a normal person would." Y/n finally looks at him. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But, I also wish I would've realized it sooner, it would've prevented this whole shit show."
"Do you forgive me?" He asks lowly. "Of course I do, you're my best friend." After a couple of minutes basking in the comfortable silence, Matt finally walks in. "Nobody has been killed, I'm guess you two made up?" He takes a seat next to Chris. "Yup, we're good now." Matt smiles at that. "That's great, how about tomorrow you two spend the whole day together after Y/n is done with her exam?" Both Y/n and Chris liked the idea of that. "That sounds nice. What do you think, Chris?" Y/n asks Chris. "I'm up for it."
"Come on, let's go bake the boxed cake since I spilt the other one." He stands up and sits in the middle of them wrapping his arms around both of them. "That's the first ever biggest fight, definitely going into the book."
"Shut up!" Chris and Y/n say in unison and laugh.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
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lokisprettygirl · 5 months
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Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)
Read chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist
Chapter 2
Summary: Dr. Vis gives you the responsibility of the patient in room 393.
Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.
Note : This fic is a bit of a slow burn so don't expect overly heated smut in the second chapter itself.
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Species dysphoria, that's what they called it, a feeling of displacement or non-belonging in one's own species and feeling as if you belong to another. Your mother used to talk about one of her patients who felt this way and believed he was a crow - he would make crow sounds, walk and act like one, and even attempted to fly like a crow, which led to him breaking most of his bones.
Upon learning about Daemon's condition, you recognized the similarity to the patient who thought he was a crow, but you also recognized that Daemon was not constantly pretending to be a dragon, he just said that he was one, not just a dragon but a hybrid instead. As you had woken up this morning Mona had informed you that Dr. Vis wanted to meet you which had immediately made you all nervous.
“Good morning Dr. Vis” you mumbled politely so he gestured to you to sit down. He was an intimidating man with brown hair and few wrinkles that came with age of course, eyes always hidden behind those thick glasses, and you had never seen him in anything but the professional suit he would wear and of course the doctor's coat. As the silence made you uncomfortable you began to pick on your nails nervously like you always did in anxious situations.
“The new patient in 393 is not allowed to leave his room for two days, I want you to make sure his meals and medicines are taken care of” he passed you a piece of paper as he spoke so you nodded. The paper contained a breakdown of the patient's diet plan and a list of medications.
“Anything else sir?” You asked him so he gave you a smile,
“Don't be fooled by his charm, he's insane but very sharp minded, he can read weaknesses and he will try to manipulate you”
You felt slightly offended at his words, just because he was a semi good looking man that didn't mean you were going to salivate after him like Shyla and others.
“Don't worry sir, I don't get overly involved with patients”
He gave you another smile but it only made you more uncomfortable.
“That's why I'm giving you this responsibility, get going now”
You got up and proceeded to step out of his office, there was always a shortage of staff in the center, the main reasons being that it was located right in between the dense woods where it wasn't really possible for everyone to spend hours commuting back and forth everyday, and not everyone was willing to stay here 24/7, only single people and those desperate for a job did so. People like you.
During Lunch time you grabbed the plate for Daemon and placed it on a tray as you made your way to room 393, you knocked on his door twice before you entered yourself.
It was dark in there as the blinds were off so you placed the cart on the side and were about to open the blinds when you heard his distinct voice.
“Don't do it” his voice came out all groggy so you hummed in response and turned on the bedside lamp instead to not irritate him further.
“You need to eat before your medication” you mumbled softly as you neared the bed, he was laying on his front with his head squished into the pillow, as usual he didn't have a shirt on. You couldn't help but stare at the large, diagonal scars that stretched across his back, which looked like they'd been inflicted by a large object. Despite the urge to touch them, you refrained but you wondered how he had gotten them.
“Daemon?” You called out his name again so he rose from the bed and stepped towards the bathroom, letting out a low moan of discomfort. You had to turn around quickly because as the sheets dropped his naked sculpted behind came into your view. His room was also freezing cold so you wondered how Dr. Vis had allowed him this privilege in this cold weather.
As Daemon stepped out of the bathroom he smirked as he saw you standing with your back against the bathroom. You had your usual work uniform on, a light brown colored dress with a cardigan on top.
“Never seen a man naked before?” He asked as he pulled his pants up you so you rolled your eyes, that was none of his business even if you hadn't.
“Don't speak to me like that, I'm not your servant” you warned him as you turned around hoping that you'd not see him naked again.
“Mmmmmhhhmmm of course you're the doctor's servant aren't you? That is why you are here, attempting to impress him with a job well done so perhaps he'd pity fuck you finally and you'd get a promotion?” He spoke with that annoying smirk on his face but his eyes softened as you teared up, you had never been spoken to this way, people mostly respected you here, patients and staff alike.
“Finish your food, I'll be back in half an hour” you told him sternly as you walked past him but your breath hitched as he grabbed your upper arm.
“Stay, I'm sorry, I don't want to be alone” the tone of his voice had changed suddenly so you sighed,
“Will you behave?” You asked him sternly so he nodded before he sat down on the bed so you passed him the plate of food you had brought for him.
“I'm not your enemy alright, i have been assigned to take care of you-” before you could even finish your sentence he cut you off and looked you in the eye,
“Take care of me? Pretty girl you have no clue what you'd have to do for me if you really want to take care of me” he mumbled as he shoved a piece of steak into his mouth. You never had an urge to slap a patient until now.
“You're doing it again”
“I'm jesting..I'm bored senseless,”
“Well you must have pissed them off to deserve the confinement, otherwise you'd have been out there doing fun activities with other patients” you retorted so he opened his mouth and smirked again,
“Does the fun involve orgies?”
Taking a deep sigh you didn't respond this time as you didn't want to encourage him. When he was done eating you made sure he had ingested his medicines before you left him alone for good.
After two days of isolation, Dr. Vis had granted Daemon the brief privilege to take a walk outside. You were entrusted with accompanying him throughout the premises. Despite the fact that he was handcuffed, you couldn't help but feel nervous about being alone with him, given his unpredictable nature.
As the two of you reached the conclusion of the walking path, Daemon chose to settle on a grassy patch, he seemed calm for once so you didn't want to disturb him.
“Sit with me y/n” he mumbled softly so you nodded and sat down next to him to offer him some company. Isolation wasn't pleasant.
“What's a lady like you doing around here? Does the constant exposure to such madness not drive you mad as well?” he asked you with a touch of curiosity so you turned to look at him.
“First of all What do you mean a lady like me?” You asked him so he made eye contact with you before he smiled like a cheshire cat.
“You're too pretty to be cleaning up after crazies” your face felt warm as he said that, you didn't appreciate him calling the fellow patients crazy but his compliment almost sounded genuine and you weren't used to being complimented this way, it also sucked that he was kind of sort of beautiful, you couldn't help but stare at his sharp features, perhaps those strange features contributed into making him believe that he was an otherworldly creature that don't even exist..
“What's wrong with helping people? Besides they're not crazy…most of them are just sick and traumatized from their past, there's a reason behind every ailment” you emphasized so he let out the sort of smile that you could hear.
“How old are you?” He asked you so you shrugged in response.
“30..close to 31” you mumbled softly and you could tell he was surprised by the knowledge.
“You don't look a day older than twenty five darling”
“Well there's not much difference between 25 and 30.. how old are you?”
“Why would you want to know?”
He asked you and you almost felt embarrassed, now you could see what Dr. Vis meant when he said that Daemon was a charming man.
“I'm just countering your questions buddy”
He chuckled as you said that.
“I'm thirty four sweetheart”
“Mhhhm and since when you feel that you're a uhhh…a dragon?”
The look on his face changed as you brought it up , he turned his whole body towards you and scooted closer as he looked at you intently.
“Don't mock me frail little thing, it would do you no good” he hissed his words, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate you but he was handcuffed. What's the worst he could do? And why did you want to figure it out so badly?
“I was just asking you a genuine question”
“Did Vis ask you to shove your nose into my personal business?” he questioned so you shook your head immediately.
“Noo i am curious”
“Ohhh I know you're curious”
He tilted his head and pressed his nose against your neck to sniff you again, this time in broad daylight, if someone was to see you like this it wouldn't go down well.
“You didn't answer my question”
You mumbled gently so he dragged his nose over the vein on your neck before he stepped away, that's when you were able to let out the breath you had been holding in.
“For as long as I could remember, I knew what I was”
His voice was deep as he whispered, pupils dilated now as if he was drunk or high on something all of a sudden.
“Why do you sniff me like this?” you asked him, curiosity apparent in your tone.
“To read, to assess, to judge”
“What are you assessing?”
“Assessing whether you are as sweet on the inside as you smell and look”
“Alright…umm we need to get back now” you stood up suddenly so he snickered as if he was proud of himself.
You knew you had to maintain some professional distance from him if he was going to sniff you out of nowhere.
And you knew you had to deny the fact that it made you feel so warm and tingly sudden whenever he was so close to you.
Perhaps you had an ailment of your own because you had never really felt a genuine sexual attraction towards a man all your life, the only crush towards the opposite sex you remember having as a child was on this actor from the movies, Paul Newman. Men didn't attract you, nor did women, you loved the idea of romance and love but you had never experienced it, you never found yourself thinking or dreaming about anyone constantly. It made you yearn for that sort of connection but you were never able to find it in a man. You had learned to accept it as it was.
But something changed that night, as you laid down on your bed you found yourself thinking about him, his hazel eyes that you could have sworn were glowing under the sunlight, his silver hair longing to be touched.
“Fucking stop it..he's sick ..he's sick…he's a patient, you're responsible for him in a way so stop indulging him” you mumbled in your head over and over again until you were drifted into sleep.
But the sleep didn't bring you any relief, it worsened it instead. You saw him in your dream, you saw yourself laying on the same patch of grass and he was on top of you all naked, as you pressed your head up you realized you didn't have any clothes on either, your legs were secured around his slender waist, his hair falling on your face so you tucked them behind his ear, that's when he lifted his head up to look at you.
He licked your lips with his tongue, before he kissed you and it was as if you could feel his touch all over you, he was burning like a fire but you didn't feel uncomfortable, it calmed you instead. The wet grass beneath your flesh, the warmth of his body all around you, the smell of the forest, everything intoxicated you.
He then let out a growl as his hips moved slowly against yours,
“Daemon–” you couldn't help but moan his name, your fingers clutched onto the strands of grass so he grabbed your hands and placed them over your head,
“You're mine you know that right? I have got my eyes on you and I'm not leaving without you, the moment I saw you i knew you belonged to me, a part of my soul that I have been missing”
He mumbled between his staggering breaths and all you could do was whine and whimper in response, your arms wrapped around his upper back and then you felt something.
Something protruding out of his back, wings, you felt the wings….
That's when you were awakened by the loud sound of your alarm, drenched in your own sweat, breathing was faster as if you had raced away from something, and worst of all your panties were soaked.
“What the fuck…the fuck” you groaned as you got out of the bed.
The dream, it was so vivid, it felt so real. It felt like a memory you have never lived.
That afternoon you were asked to grab his meal and leave it outside of his room but that bothered you. Why wasn't he present in the cafeteria with other patients? Had he done something to warrant confinement again?
As his plate was made you placed it on a cart along with a glass of water and made way to his room..
You were instructed to leave the food outside his room with a knock but you felt restless. Why weren't you allowed to see him?
After wrestling with your thoughts for a moment you decided to enter instead, there was no one around the hallway and if you were caught you'd simply tell them that you only went inside to check up on him because he hadn't come out for his food in a while.
As you stepped inside his room you found him on the floor instead of the bed so you quickly closed the door behind you,
“Daemon.. hey” you crouched down to check up on him as he wasn't conscious and immediately checked his pulse for signs of life. Upon confirming that he was indeed breathing, you proceeded to look around for signs of injury or drug overdose, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Desperate to awaken him, you snatched the glass of water and sprinkled the droplets over his face.
And it worked, you saw him moving his eyes before he opened them up slowly,
“Heyyyy ..oh thank God, are you okay” you asked him worriedly so he sat up slowly. He was still in his uniform as he had returned from his therapy session with Dr. Vis.
“What happened?” He asked you so you looked at him worriedly.
“You were unconscious..I don't know for how long” he placed his hand over his head and that's when he cursed loudly.
“The bastard zapped me”
“What?” You asked him confused so he groaned as he tried to stand up on his own but his body felt weak so you offered your support and that's when it clicked what he had meant.
“He used a stun gun on you?” You asked him as you helped him sit down on the bed.
“Leave me alone” he mumbled as he placed his head down into his palms so you sighed and got up,
“Will you eat?” You asked him and perhaps it was the gentle tone of your voice but as he looked up at you, his eyes were teary
“Don't go…don't leave me alone”
The sad murmur of his voice made you feel really awful for him, the constant mood swings, the way he seemed so broken bothered you alot.
“I can't stay, I was asked to leave your food outside, I'm already breaking my code”
You said to him so he grabbed your hand, his thumb ran over your fingernails, they were red and flamed from the recent biting and picking and you felt a little embarrassed by them, not to mention his touch was making you feel weak at the same time.
“Why did he use a stun gun?” You asked as you crouched down on your knees and placed your palm on his shoulder to comfort him.
“So I'd accept that I'm not a dragon, that I'm just an ordinary man like him.. like all of them”
He mumbled somberly, his words were broken in pieces and it made your own eyes tear up “I am not crazy y/n”
“I know, you just need help-”
“I don't need help, I need to be understood”
“I..” you were at a loss for words as he said that, you wanted to comfort him but you didn't want to lie to him.
“Understood?”
“I know what I am..I'm not delusional or whatever they're trying to make me believe”
“Okay..then why did you agree to come here?”
He went quiet as you questioned him. This wasn't an asylum where people were forced against their will, it was a wellness center. If he didn't want to get better then why did he come here?
“I made a mistake out there .. I didn't know.. couldn't control my powers–they come and go in waves..i have no control..no–” the moment he saw the perplexed look on your face he stopped his rambling, he was saying too much too soon, you weren't going to believe him, nobody believed him “Just go ..I'm done talking”
You nodded as he said that as you didn't want him to get upset or mad again but before leaving you made sure that he was fed.
You felt conflicted about him, he didn't seem dangerous, sure he had his moments of aggression but so did several other patients, why was he being treated so harshly by Dr. Vis?
You couldn't stop thinking about him even when your shift had ended. Sick people were capable of convincing you that they were not sick at all, it wasn't their fault, that's just how their brain operated but Daemon seemed different, you couldn't put your finger on it but he seemed different from the rest of the patients.
That week you didn't see much of him because you weren't really allowed to, Dr. Lisa had informed all the members of the staff that Dr. Vis didn't want anyone interacting with Daemon due to his aggressive and unstable temperament.
Such restrictions only made you want to seek him out further, your mother always told you that patients flourished when they were allowed to be free and form human connections with their caregivers and fellow mates so why was Daemon being treated so differently? That night on the way to the terrace you knocked on his door twice before you climbed the stairs, as you reached up there you didn't lock the door this time from the inside,
“And here I was thinking you were a stickler about this job”
You heard his voice so you smiled and turned around, you had your coat on and your arms crossed together due to the cold but he was without a shirt again. Why didn't he feel cold? Or was he good at pretending he wasn't affected in the slightest?
“I am not going to offer you a cigarette if that's why you came here” you told him so he walked closer to you.
“Tchhh that's a bummer but this ain't too bad either”
He mumbled as he walked past you and leaned against the ledge to look at you intently. What was he thinking you thought, perhaps the fact that you had invited him upstairs when you had no obligation or rights to do so.
“You're cold” he mumbled softly so you chuckled in response
“It's cold out here”
“Mmmhm come here” he tilted his head as he spoke and it made you nervous, the look on his face sent shivers down your spine. You had to remind yourself of your situations to snap back to reality.
“So they will be lifting the restrictions tomorrow..you must be doing well in the therapy” you switched the conversation so he rolled his eyes in response,
“I'm doing what he want me to do”
“And why is that?”
“I want my freedom” he mumbled so you nodded but what he said next made your heart skip a beat “and i miss a certain lady's presence in my room and her forcing me to fucking eat all the time”
You couldn't help but smile as he finished his words.
“Do you feel better?” you asked him in the hope that he won't notice the warmth his words had brought.
“I do now”
Was he flirting with you? You couldn't really tell, you had no idea what he was planning in his head.
“Okay we should go back now–” you mumbled softly so he followed you as you walked side by side, being as careful as you could be.
As his room arrived you whispered a soft good night so he grabbed your hand in his own, his eyes then raked over your fingernails before he looked at you intently
"Next time you're anxious you can use my flesh to pick on, don't ruin yourself"
And then he went in without causing a scene. You hadn't realized all day that you had been smiling constantly these days for some reason. Perhaps you had a crush on him, if this is what a crush on a real man felt like. It was wrong, completely wrong but a crush was just that, a crush. You'd get over it, you were confident about that.
However the next morning you were greeted with an unexpected turn of events as you arrived at the staff area. Mona informed you that Shyla was let go that morning so you'd have to take up double shifts for a few days until the new member was hired,
“Wait ..what happened?” You asked her worriedly so Mona's expression turned serious as she glanced around, ensuring no one was in earshot before stepping closer to you.
“She was caught fooling around with the dragon boy, such a stupid girl”
😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏
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@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting
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milaisreading · 10 months
Text
🌱🩷: 4TH STORY IS HERE U ALL! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT☠️😭
Pairings: Barou Shouei x Crossdresser!Yn
Warnings: Reader uses she/her during the narration.
⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️
🎄Dec 13th🎄
"You think your sisters will like these?" Barou looked away from some perfume he was planning on buying his dad to look at the items (Y/n) was holding. The items in question were small make-up sets. Barou eyed the items for a moment and shrugged his shoulders.
"They look cute, but they look kind of expensive. Don't go all out for my family, you have your own to think of, too." Barou said, going back to looking at the perfume, not noticing (Y/n) flinch a little at the mention of her family.
'Right... my family...' She thought for a moment and then looked at the items, smiling a little.
"It's ok, I can buy it. Besides, they both were telling me how your mom wouldn't let them play with her make-up. I am sure your mom will appreciate these, too." She said as Barou raised an eyebrow at her.
"They did? Those two are careless at times." The red-eyed boy sighed.
"They mean no harm-"
"Excuse me, are you (L/n) (Y/n)? Blue lock's captain?" The two football players turned to look at two girls, around their age, staring up at her.
"Uhm... yeah, I am. Can I help you with something?" (Y/n) wondered as Barou silently watched the interactions.
"Can we take a few pictures with you?"
"We watched that game. And the assist you did for Isagi for the final goal was phenomenal!"
(Y/n) blushed a little at the compliment, something Barou took quick notice of, and nodded her head.
"Th-thank you, but without the help of the rest of the team I wouldn't have been able to do that. And sure, I can take a few pictures." (Y/n) answered, putting the sets away as the girls excitedly pulled her away for some pictures.
"You are so humble."
"It's really cute."
Barou watched the trio silently as he put random items in his cart. The familiar feeling of jealousy slowly making its way through his system. The boy was used to (Y/n) getting attention from people around them. The team, the staff, the fans... she was very approachable. As much as Barou liked her being happy, he wanted her to be more happy with him.
'I knew her longer...and I know more more about her than anyone else.' Barou thought, clenching his fists as (Y/n) came back.
"Should we go now? It's getting quite crowded and I am hungry, too." The girl wondered as Barou nodded his head.
"Sure. Did you get everything you need?" The boy asked as (Y/n) glanced at her cart.
"I just need something for your mom and dad, and I am good to go. Maybe clothing items would be a good idea?" She suggested as Barou shrugged his shoulders.
"I said you don't have to-"
"And I said I will."
"You are annoying and stubborn." Barou sighed.
"Thank you. Learned from the best, king." (Y/n) grinned, noticing the glare forming on his face.
"Shut up, dumbass!"
🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️
Barou was already annoyed at the store as he watched (Y/n) interact with the girls, but now he was pretty much pissed. The boy watched as (Y/n) talked with a group of fans, who interrupted her lunch to ask for pictures and autographs. So, instead of saying no, the girl abandoned her food to talk with them. Barou couldn't really be mad at her, he knew that (Y/n) will put other people before her in most cases.
'That's why Ego-san picked her as the captain.' Barou sighed as he watched the girl wave a goodbye at the group, then returned to her seat.
"Sorry for leaving." (Y/n) muttered apologetically, looking down at her food.
"It's getting cold, you should really eat it." Barou commented as he ate his food.
"I know, but you know I can't say no to people, especially when they ask me for something politely."
"That wasn't your act an hour ago." Barou rolled his eyes as (Y/n) started eating your food.
"I already told you I don't want anything. I am happy enough to spend the holidays with you and your family." The honesty in her words caused the red-eyed boy to blush and forcefully gulp down his food.
"Still, you can't be without a present. And what about your family? Wouldn't you want to celebrate Christmas with them?"
"T-them?! Oh..." (Y/n) coughed a few times and shook her head.
"N-not really. My parents are going on a business trip and my brothers will be with their friends." (Y/n) simply answered and Barou eyed her suspiciously before continuing eating. The determination to buy her something for Christmas grew even stronger after that. Along with that, his curiosity about (Y/n)'s family grew as well.
☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄
The duo was now at a clothing store, their last stop before they planned going to their homes. Barou was aimlessly looking around the pile of random shirts, still trying to think of a gift for (Y/n).
'What can I even get someone who grew up in a family as rich as (Y/n)'s... just my luck.' Barou rolled his eyes.
'Why do I even bother? That idiot is just a pain in the neck, loud, annoying, a know it all... but, I wouldn't really want her to change.' Barou felt his cheeks slowly heat up.
'Especially when she smiles, or laughs, or gets excited over the next match.'
The boy groaned as he felt a familiar twist in his heart as he looked behind himself, expecting to find (Y/n), but she was nowhere to be found. Barou stiffened as he looked around, not able to find the girl anywhere in the men's section of the store.
"Where did that dumbass go now?" Barou silently groaned and started looking around the store, hoping to find her soon.
'I hope she isn't around one of the fangirls, because I swear I will kick a football into her next time-'
"Oh? Are you planning to buy that for your girlfriend? Do you need any help?"
"What? Oh... I am just looking at some dresses for... for someone. I don't know if I will buy it yet." Barou stopped in his tracks as he looked to his left, only to find a worker and (Y/n) talking with each other, while the other girl was holding a (f/c) dress. Barou silently backed behind the wall, making sure (Y/n) and the worker didn't see him.
"The dress maybe..." Barou narrowed his eyes as he observed the item.
"It's a really nice dress, you have great eyes. It's quite popular this season as well."
"Really?" (Y/n) asked in surprise
"Mhm. I think it has to do with the color." The worker nodded as (Y/n) silently looked at the dress. Barou knew that look on the girl's face all too well. Contrary to how he expected rich people to behave, (Y/n) was always ready to put her needs and wishes aside when it came to someone else. She also rarely liked to spend on herself.
'Come on, you idiot. If you want it, buy it!' Barou thought.
"Oh... can I ask you something?"
"Huh? Sure." (Y/n) said to the worker, looking away from the dress.
"You are Blue lock's captain? (L/n), right?"
"Yes, that would be me." (Y/n) nodded, the worker's face brightened as she heard jer confirm it.
"My little brother really loved watching you play. Would you mind giving him an autograph?"
"Not at all. I just need a pen and paper." (Y/n) said with a soft smile as she put the dress away. Barou watched with an irritated expression as yet again, (Y/n) abandoned her own wishes to help someone else.
"Dumbass, dumbass..." Barou muttered for what felt like the 100th time as he approached the abandoned clothing item. The boy stared at it for a moment, then looked around the area, the down at the dress again.
"Well, if you won't buy it yourself, I will do it."
Barou rolled his eyes as he took the item to go and pay for it.
'I will hurry up before she comes back for it. Or worse, sees me buying it.' The boy thought, walking rather quickly to the cash register.
'She will definitely not expect this one.' Barou thought as he smiled softly at the item.
'She might be an idiot. But an idiot I would never replace for anything.'
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gremlinmodetweeker · 7 days
Text
Headaches Split My Skull, Stop Talking
So this is just a little continuation of the first part of the monster hybrid story. König is a nightmare to write introductions for because he cannot introduce himself well for the life of him. It really doesn't help that he's always terribly rude with introductions. Unless he's actively chosen reader, he's always so mean when he's first introduced! I need to spray him with a water bottle.
TWs: Eating food
Wordcount: 1.5k
Art from This Post
Story below the cut
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Headaches Split My Skull, Stop Talking
You stood beside Lieutenant General Haus, the same man who’d given you König’s files earlier. You glanced up at the older man, brushing his moustache with one hand while watching the numbers tick by above. You watched the countdown with him until you hit the desired floor.
You followed Lt-Gen Haus down the pristine hallway to a room with a red door. Stepping through, you were cowed by the man you saw.
Half jotunn was never more apparent. The man was a giant of a man, easily eight feet tall while still crouching. He was big, burly and powerful as he stared deep into your soul.
“Cnl. Leichenberg! So good to see you,” Haus’s voice boomed in the cramped room.
“Lieutenant General Haus,” the man nodded from beneath his massive hood.
“I’m here to introduce you to your new handler today,” the lieutenant general took a seat across from your new charge. He was completely at ease in the giant man’s presence, unlike you. You didn’t even hear your name being said until the general turned to look at you.
“Yes sir?” you asked meekly.
“I was asking if you’re willing to sign,” the general pointed at the paper and pen set out in front of you.
“Of course sir,” you replied, quickly picking up the pen and jotting down your name.
“Cnl. Liechengerg? Will you please sign the contract?” Haus turned the page with the pen expertly.
The man nodded and jotted down his name with an aggressive flick of his massive hand, nearly breaking the fountain pen in the process. The lieutenant general waved the paper twice before tucking it back into his manilla folder with a smile.
“Well, I know that normally you have a rather busy schedule, but both your schedules have been cleared for the next hour,” Haus looked at both of you with his warm blue eyes, “I’m sure you’re both experienced enough, but we still encourage you to take the time to get to know each other a bit better. After all,” he turned to you, “your duties as handler extend beyond your monster’s normal schedule. You are expected to attend to each of Cnl. Liechenberg’s needs. And Cnl. Liechenberg,” he turned to address the giant man, “I know you've heard it before, but it needs to be emphasized that you’re expected to ensure the safety of your handler, both on and off the field. Now,” Haus drummed his fingers on the table, “I’m expecting you to be back for training with Cnl. Liechenberg this evening, but I think we’ve covered all the necessary bases?”
Seeing no disagreements, the lieutenant general dismissed the two of you to leave you to your own devices. You wished he’d stay, as the man terrified you.
You’d never been afraid of a hybrid before, not like this. Normally, if you feared a hybrid it was due to the monstrous form they took during training. You’d never dealt with a hybrid of such a high rank before, and you’d never before cowered in your monster’s presence. Cnl. Liechenberg was a different sort of creature altogether.
“So, um, do you wanna join me for a coffee?” you offered politely.
“I hate coffee,” his voice was pitchy and scratched on your ears.
“Oh, um,” you thought for a moment, “how about lunch? Not at the canteen, but at that little cafe nearby? You know, not the one in the fort but out on the base?”
The man glared down at you with ice-cold blue eyes, a sharp contrast to Lt.-Gen Haus. Without being able to see his face, all you could think about was how the man looked like he wanted to crush you to dust in his palm.
“Okay.”
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You found your way to the small cafe. There, you met up with König outside and tried to hold a one-sided conversation before you gave up and followed him inside. As soon as the barista looked up and saw you both, you felt a sudden surge of dread.
“König? What’re you doing here?” the woman leaned against the counter in the empty store.
The man gave no reply. If nothing else, at least he wasn’t singling you out with his cold reception.
Instead of greeting the woman, he stood beneath the counter and looked up.
“I want…” he thumbed at what was probably his chin under that hood, “a mediterranean wrap, a grilled cheese panini, two cups of americano with a side of cream, and a slice of carrot cake.”
The woman sighed, “Do you want the soup with that?”
“Yes.”
“Why do I ask,” you heard the poor woman mutter as Cnl. Liechenberg strode off to sit at his table of choice, leaving you to stand with the barista.
“You deal with him often?” you asked nervously.
The woman flicked her dark ponytail over her shoulder as she faced you, “Who, König? Not really.”
“You sounded like you knew him,” you commented lightly before leaning in close, “look, I’m his new handler. Can you give me any pointers? I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall here.”
“Oh don’t even bother trying with him,” the woman waved a tanned hand at you, “there’s no way you’re getting through with him. He’s just… König.”
You nodded carefully, then gave your order and joined Cnl. Liechenberg at his table.
“So,” you slid into the seat across from him, “Cnl. Liechenberg-”
“König.”
You paused and looked up at the man, “König?”
“Call me König,” a pause, “everyone does.”
“Alright, so, König! You come here often?” you chirped.
The man shook his head curtly.
“Really! The barista seemed to know you, at least,” you chuckled, “must be nice being a regular, right?”
König wasn’t paying you any attention. He was fully absorbed by what the barista was making.
You looked out the window beside you, “Looks like you chose a nice spot here. You can even see the duck pond from here!”
König nodded absentmindedly.
“Do you ever go to look at the ducks?” you asked, “they’re pretty cute. Oh, you know that a few of the ducks had babies, right? If you want, when we’re finished here we can go check it out if we still have time.”
König barely reacted, if at all. Was he even breathing? You’d have to check his file again about that…
“Sometimes I like to go and check on the ducks when I have a chance. I don’t have a lot of time, but it’s a nice break from life on base,” you could hear yourself babbling on listlessly but you couldnt' stop yourself, “there’s usually a bunch of people in the park, but if you go just about an hour before the sunset you can get some time to sit down on a bench and think. I sometimes take a few peas with me if they’re served for dinner, but never bread. You know you’re not supposed to feed ducks bread, right? It’s not good for them! It’s better to give them cut up veggies or something.”
König didn’t say a word. He didn’t even give you so much as a glance to acknowledge you as you went on your spiel. A part of you couldn't’ believe how incredibly rude König was.
“There’s also a pair of swans, if you’re interested…” you trailed off.
Nothing you were saying was getting through to this guy.
“Do you know if our schedules will be synced up?” you asked, “so we can go and see the ducks together.”
König finally reacted by giving you a half hearted shrug.
“Are you sure? With my other hybrids I’ve always been synced, but I dunno if it’s gonna be the same way with you. Was it like that with your other handlers?” you asked.
König gave you a small nod.
“Oh great! So when we get our schedules next we should be synced up! That means we can go to the duck pond together!”
König was less than disinterested.
You sighed and sat back in your chair. It was only day one and you were already tired of trying. It was like he was going out of his way to refuse and and all attempts to communicate. How the hell did any of his handlers talk to him before? You could only imagine how somebody helped him.
“Alright, here you guys go,” the barista came with a tray to set down your plates in front of you. You noted that König’s share of the table was quickly overtaken as his meals spread onto your side of the table. You thanked the barista, noting how König barely even acknowledged her presence.
The way König acted as though he was better than everyone around him set you on edge. By technicalities, you were his superior, and yet he didn’t bother listening to you once. A part of you wanted to pull the rank card, but you’d hate for the relationship to start on such a sour note. Another part of you was furious. No other hybrid you dealt with had ever pushed you this far this quickly. Then again, you’d never dealt with a hybrid of this rank before. It was maddening how he refused any sort of interaction.
“Looks good,” you commented as König picked up his wrap.
König nodded and took a bite. He chewed quietly and set the wrap back down.
You set to work on your own meal, small in comparison to König’s smorgasbord. You picked away at it, antsy with how you’d be dealing with König.
You took a bite and smiled, “I’m glad we came here. I forgot how good the food is here.”
König nodded silently.
You sighed. This would be a long contract, wouldn’t it?
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Alternate Universe Stories
Konig Dump
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dyns33 · 1 month
Text
Elastic heart
Sooo let me be one of the first to write about Pedro Pascal!Reed Richards / Mister Fantastic because of course I had to write about him, even if the movie is not even out yet.
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It was like a dream come true when Y/N received the email congratulating her because she had been selected to become Doctor Richards' assistant.
Everyone knew about the Fantastic 4, a group of heroes who protected the Earth from all threats, with Mister Fantastic, the Invisible Woman, the Human Torch and the Thing.
In addition to his activities as a protector of humanity, Doctor Reed Richards continued his research in physics and engineering.
Although he was considered the smartest man in the world, he seemed to have difficulty organizing his schedule and his notes, deciding to post an ad to find an assistant who would help him not end up crushed by a mountain of unclassified files.
Many candidates had applied, including Y/N. She didn't understand half of what Dr. Richards was talking about during the interview as he explained his current work, but she listened intently, finding it wonderful and fascinating that he was so invested in his work.
He had clearly noticed her listening skills. He had also liked that she didn't ask him any questions that weren't related to the position, that she took notes, and that she really tried to retain as much information as possible.
"I'm not going to ask you to solve the mysteries of the universe with me. Of course, if you said a theory that helped me solve the mysteries of the universe, I would mention your name. But you must especially remind me of my appointments, that I have to eat sometimes, update my research results, that sort of thing."
"No problem, Dr. Richards."
"Oh, no. Reed, please. Dr. Richards was my father." he said with a huge smile.
The first few days, Y/N was a little afraid of not being up to the task, or that he would ask too much, without ever paying attention to her.
But Doctor Richards was very attentive. Not only did he thank her or congratulate her for her good work, always happy to find hot coffee on her perfectly tidy desk or to hear her ask a question that would point him in the right direction, but sometimes he was even the one who took care of her.
"No. I'll take that."
"But Doc… Reed, I have to finish sorting these documents."
"I'm pretty sure it can wait until tomorrow. You should have been home two hours ago, you haven't eaten anything this afternoon. Don't deny it, I saw you with your energy drink. It's late, you were perfect, go get some rest."
"Only if you go too."
"… You got me. Deal."
Really, Reed Richards was a charming man. Too charming, no doubt, and Y/N quickly realized that she liked her boss a little too much.
It was never a good idea to mix feelings and work, but above all he was not free. When it was not her who reprimanded him for not taking care of his vital needs, Susan Storm appeared in the office sighing, pulling him by the arm and declaring that they were going out to lunch.
Like a celebrity couple, the newspapers were always trying to take pictures of them and spread their private life. So they rarely happened to be seen together outside of missions.
But Y/N saw them every day, and she couldn't deny that they looked perfect for each other.
So she had swallowed her ridiculous love, focusing on her work, while being unable not to smile stupidly every time Doctor Richards spoke to her.
If he hadn't seen it, it was obviously not the case for the rest of the group of heroes, Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm, who often made fun of her in a more or less hidden way.
"Wow, nice meal box Reed."
"Homemade by my lovely assistant. She's so helpful, so kind. I'm really lucky."
"Yeah, that's for sure."
"You're only jealous because I have cookies and you don't !"
Since he was the smartest man in the world, Y/N still wondered if he didn't know, but was too polite to say so. Preferring to save her honor, he played the carefree game by telling everyone that she was a great assistant, who was simply doing her job, without ever trying to seduce him and jeopardize his relationship.
In any case, if Johnny knew, his sister must have known too. Maybe she watched them sometimes, invisible in a corner of the room, waiting for Y/N to dare to try something.
"Susan thinks we should have dinner together tomorrow night." Reed said, writing an incomprehensible calculation on his board.
"Oh, where are you going to go ?"
"Hmm ? No, I mean, you and me. Italian or something. She thinks it would be good."
"… Why ?" Y/N asked, immediately thinking it was a test.
"It's okay if you don't want to. I'd understand, you already put up with me all day."
"I'm seeing friends tomorrow night."
"No worries, it's fine. I told her it was a bad idea anyway."
He didn't mention it again, probably because his partner had been satisfied by this refusal, and the lack of a proposal for another day.
However, something changed. More often lost in his thoughts, looking sad, Reed Richards seemed to withdraw into his work, to the point of sometimes forgetting Y/N's presence, and forcing himself to smile when she spoke to him.
It was hurtful. She didn't understand, and she ended up looking as sad as him.
"Hell, they're stupid, they're so stupid…" mumbled the Human Torch as she passed through the hallway with a ton of files.
"And it's you who says that, that means something." sighed the Thing, rolling its eyes.
Despite all their efforts, their work ended up being impacted. Y/N and Reed forgot things, dropped documents or cups, fell asleep on their desk.
Especially him, but Y/N didn't dare wake him up or ask him to go home.
She preferred to go see Susan Storm. If anyone could channel him, it had to be his lover.
"I would love to babysit that adorable idiot, but I have a date tonight. He's going to have to stop acting like a child."
"A date ? But… Can't you talk to him during your date ?"
"… Who do you think I'm on a date with ?"
"Doctor Richards ? Your boyfriend ?"
"… Johnny was right. I can't believe it. Sit down."
Modest, very modest, and not really caring about the opinions of others, Reed and Susan had broken up several months ago, without any problems, without any arguments, remaining very good friends.
Totally focused on his research, he had not tried to meet anyone else, convinced in any case that people only saw his powers and his notoriety. And he would quickly bore them to death with his long scientific explanations no matter what.
Then Y/N had arrived, and Reed had fallen in love at first sight. Already during the interview, he had found her wonderful.
Trying in vain to be discreet, he had asked the other Fantastics if it was a good idea to hire someone he liked, someone who was perfectly competent, but with whom he would probably never be able to have a relationship because that was not done in the professional world. Or was it alright ? Hypothetically, he had specified.
No one had been fooled by seeing him with Y/N, and while it was funny and cute at first, their inability to see that the other was interested was becoming quite painful to watch.
"Reed is completely incompetent when it comes to socializing. We must have encouraged him to ask you out, because he was sure you were just being nice to him. Now he thinks he was right, that you're not interested. But you thought he was taken… Damn, I knew we should have done a long interview about that."
"You say he likes me…"
"Honey, he's crazy about you. You too, no point in denying it. And since you're both hopelessly shy, I guess I'll have to step in to save the day. Don't move."
Y/N didn't know why she moved. As soon as the Invisible Woman had disappeared, she had stood up, quickly going to her office to get her bag, then taking the elevator to quickly go down to the underground parking lot.
Reed Richards liked her. He was single, he had asked her out on a date, and he had been sulking for weeks because she had said no, making him believe that his feelings were not reciprocated.
Normally she should have been happy. But this was scary. Because the smartest man in the world was perhaps a romantic idiot incapable of integrating social codes, he was not wrong. If things did not go well between them, it would be complicated for work. They got along so well before talking about love.
"Y/N !"
She jumped when she saw Reed's floating head as the elevator doors opened. Or not really floating, she could see his elongated neck that went all the way to the door of the fire escape.
"Excuse me !" he exclaimed with an embarrassed look. "I could have run but… I've always been bad at sports. And I didn't know where to find you, I tried several corners of the building at the same time. That said, I don't really know how my feet would have recognized you. Would you mind waiting, until I gather all my limbs together ?"
He apologized again, because it was quite strange to see his body return to normal, and quite long too.
The silence was not broken however when he was finally complete, and they remained looking at each other like inexperienced teenagers.
"So… You thought I was in a relationship."
"Yes, like everyone else I imagine."
"True, it's true that we never made the separation official… It's an important detail, which I could have specified at some point. But since I thought I had no chance anyway, I didn't think about it too much."
"This could make our professional relationships complicated."
"Exactly. I've read the labor code three times, and it's not very clear. It depends on contracts and collective agreements, and so I've read our collective agreement three times, and it's not forbidden, but…"
"I love Italian food."
Reed Richards stared at her, cut off in the middle of his nervous stammering, with a confused expression before showing a huge smile, which Y/N ​​returned shyly.
It might not have been a good idea, but if they didn't try, they would regret it. Work was already disrupted, and it would be disrupted if they didn't have this meeting to see where it could lead them. In the end, they could find a balance, between their private relationship and at work.
"Kiss her, damn it !"
"Johnny, you're ruining everything." Ben sighed, half hidden behind a car.
"I'm not ruining anything, he's doing just fine on his own ! Ouch… But Susan !"
"He's not good, but I think Richards was going to get there before you broke the moment."
Growling, Reed looked at his teammates who gave him big thumbs ups and nods of encouragement.
He then took Y/N's hand, leading her back into the elevator and pressing the button so they could have some privacy.
"… I read a study that said it's good to wait until the third date to kiss."
"You read a lot."
"Ah, yeah. One of the reasons Susan and I broke up, besides the fact that we didn't love each other that way anymore, was that I wasn't very romantic. I'm trying to work on that."
"A kiss in an elevator is romantic too."
"… Really ? I'll look for a study that…"
"Kiss me."
"Okay."
It was part of her job to guide Doctor Richards and tell him what to do when he forgot or was lost after all.
But after a simple reminder, he did just fine with his mouth and hands, although it seemed that when he was excited, he wrapped his arms everywhere without realizing it.
That would be interesting to study later, after the third date.
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captainremmington-13 · 7 months
Text
A Lady Made of Snow
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DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova, Kallista, and Caesarus. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.
SUMMARY: Dr. Gaul informs Bellova that her rival has returned from District 12. Upon hearing this, she forms a plan to ensure that he never affects her success again.
⚠️Warnings⚠️: spoilers for TBOSAS, swearing, implications of blackmail, mentions of death, vague allusion to sexual acts
A/n: This chapter takes place a couple months before the epilogue in TBOSAS occurs.
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫
“That’s all for today. If you have questions for me, stay behind and ask away. Otherwise, you are dismissed.” 
Bellova gathered her books and pens, tucking them safely into her leather school bag. She nodded politely at Professor Bingley before briskly exiting the lecture hall. It was finally lunchtime, and she was positively famished, for she hadn’t had time to eat a proper breakfast. She had gotten accustomed to sleeping in over the summer break. By the time her maid woke her up for her first day of University, she only had an hour to prepare for her first class.
Over the summer, she had officially decided to pursue a career in law. Her father assured her that it was a perfect fit, saying that her academic strengths and combative attitude would make her unstoppable in the field. The idea of creating laws for the entirety of the Capitol, or even all of Panem one day, was exhilarating to her. She knew she could make the country thousands of times better if she was given the chance. 
Despite only having attended three classes so far, Bellova loved being a University student. It was much more elite than the Academy, the professors were better, and there was no uniform. She found the last aspect particularly exciting, enjoying the looks of envy and adoration she had received as she walked down the halls for the first time.
Her social life had blossomed greatly in the span of just a few months. It was solid during her Academy days, as she was one of the most popular students. But since enrolling in the University, she had gained several new companions. She still talked to some of her old friends, like Lysistrata and Persephone. She even occasionally went on dates, for she was asked out left-and-right by men and women alike. Most of them she turned down, but for those who seemed promising, she accepted their invitations. However, none of them felt like the perfect match. She didn’t let that affect her, though. 
Her education was her top priority.
She saw Persephone Price and one of her new friends, Kallista Philo, waiting for her outside of the dining hall. Ignoring the lingering stairs of some of the people passing by, she approached them quickly.
“Hello,” she said, smiling brightly. “How are you both feeling? The first day of University treating you well?”
Persephone nodded. “I love it here already. I can’t wait to start working with other people who have the same major as me.” 
Kallista, who was a year older than Persephone and Bellova, gave them both an affectionate grin. “You both will excel in your fields, I’m positive. As long as you always try your hardest, the professors will do anything in their power to help you achieve your dream career.”
“Good to know,” Bellova said. “Now, shall we get lunch? I’m practically dying of starvation.”
They made their way through the dining hall, sitting at their usual table in the corner of the room. They discussed a variety of topics, including Kallista’s brother’s annoying fiancée and Persephone’s new pet dove. 
Persephone then asked how Bellova’s date with Caesarus Nottingham went. 
Bellova winced. “It was incredibly disappointing. He talked about nothing but his mediocre accomplishments and his…bedroom skills while we ate dinner. It completely ruined my appetite.”
Kallista gagged. “Ugh. That sounds awful.”
“Oh, it was. I was tempted to abandon the date all together to humiliate him, but I was able to embarrass him enough when he leaned in for a kiss and I stepped away. I left before he could say another word.” 
The girls laughed. Bellova was ruthless when it came to almost everything, including those she went on dates with.
“Miss Reginelle.” 
A young man wearing a University identification badge approached the table. Bellova looked up from her food.
“Yes?”
“Dr. Gaul wants to see you in her lab. She said it had to do with…reincarnation.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You wanted to see me?”
The doctor grinned, setting down her surgical scissors. “Ah yes, Miss Reginelle. Come, my dear. I wanted to ask your opinion on these new mutations I’m developing.” 
Bellova sat down next to Dr. Gaul on a lab stool. The older woman set a small glass terrarium in front of them. Inside housed what looked like normal flowers. 
“Don’t let the pretty colors fool you,” Dr. Gaul said. “They can bite as lethally as the most dangerous snakes.”
Bellova briefly thought about the snakes that she had sent into the arena a year prior. The memory was unpleasant, not because of the mutts, but because of who she associated them with.
“That’s amazing,” Bellova said. “I assume these are for this year’s Games?”
She nodded. “Indeed. And, I plan on altering them so they regrow within mere minutes if they are snipped.”
“Reincarnation…” Bellova muttered.
“Precisely.” Dr. Gaul flashed her a twisted smile. “Speaking of that, I have some other news for you.”
Bellova cocked her head. “What is it?”
“A certain young Mr. Snow has returned to the Capitol.” 
Bellova briefly contemplated jumping into Dr. Gaul’s pool of sea serpents. “You’re fucking kidding.”
Dr. Gaul laughed. “I am not, Miss Reginelle.”
“Why? How? I thought he was sentenced to be a peacekeeper for the next twenty years?”
“He was. But I negotiated for him to return. He has far too much potential to be wasted in District 12. He returned less than a week ago, and is set to study under me for the rest of his time at the University.”
“Dr. Gaul,” Bellova said, trying her hardest not to scream. “He disgraced himself by cheating in the Games - in your Games. Why would you forgive such a thing?”
“Mr. Snow’s time in the districts has…transformed him. He has finally opened his eyes to the real nature of this world, and understands why our country operates the way it does.”
Bellova felt her jaw clench. “I see.” 
Dr. Gaul grabbed a pair of tweezers and dropped a small cricket into the glass enclosure that housed the flowers mutation. The flower immediately lunged towards the insect, devouring it in seconds. 
“Do you need anything else, Dr. Gaul?” Bellova asked. “My next class begins soon.”
She shook her head. “That is all. Run along, my dear. And if you see Mr. Snow, do give him a warm welcome home.”
Forcing a smile, Bellova nodded and walked out of the lab.
After leaving the building, she let out a frustrated snarl. Just a few weeks after Snow’s departure, she had realized she was beyond grateful that he was no longer in her life. She no longer had to worry about constantly one-upping him, she could just focus on herself and her happiness.
But now, he was back. 
Back to continue tormenting her. 
Was that his only life goal? To make her existence a living hell? 
‘Stop that,’ she chided herself. ‘You can’t let his presence affect you anymore. You’re a new woman now. A woman that holds too much power and status to give in to silly things like emotions.’
Of course, the idea of messing with Coriolanus again was tempting. She could expose several of his actions that would immediately tarnish any of his career plans. 
But it was wisest to keep that information to herself. 
For now, anyway.
Bellova smiled to herself. Instead of listening to Dr. Gaul’s suggestion to give Snow a “warm welcome”, she would give him the coldest shoulder possible. She would avoid him at all costs. 
He was no longer worthy of her attention. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Bellova! Oh, it’s so nice to see you, dear!”
Bellova whirled around, about to chew out wherever was bothering her. She was not in the mood to socialize. 
She refrained from doing so when she recognized the person approaching her was Mrs. Plinth, dressed in all black. This was uncharacteristic of her, as she usually donned bright colors. 
“Mrs. Plinth,” she greeted the older woman politely, despite wanting to tell her to leave her alone. She had decided to stop by a bakery on her way home from the University to grab a fresh pastry. She had hoped that it would lighten her mood after the unpleasant news she discovered earlier. She had not expected to run into “Ma” Plinth.
She didn’t really have anything against her, but she was still district in Bellova’s eyes. The same way her son was. She liked Sejanus most of the time, unless he was spouting on a useless tirade about the unfairness of the Capitol. But he was serving time as a Peacekeeper in 12. She had heard this from Clemensia, who heard it from Strabo Plinth himself. 
Mrs. Plinth looked her up and down, and her eyes began to fill with tears. 
“Are you alright?” Bellova asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She dabbed at her eyes with a red handkerchief, sniffling quietly. “You have grown into such a fine young woman. Ever since my family moved to the Capitol, my Sejanus adored you. He always referred to you as intelligent, and beautiful, and…” She trailed off, beginning to cry harder.
Bellova did her best not to appear uncomfortable. She didn’t like having to comfort people, it simply wasn’t in her nature. After a tense moment of silence, she asked, “Mrs. Plinth, what’s going on? Did something happen to Sejanus?”
Mrs. Plinth’s eyes widened slightly. “Has nobody told you yet?”
“Told me what?”
“H-he’s dead. Hanged in District 12 for treason against the Capitol.”
Bellova’s head spun. 
The heir to the Plinth fortune, dead.
Leaving behind two vulnerable, grieving parents. 
“What exactly was he accused of?” Bellova asked softly.
“I’m not sure. I just know that someone turned him in for traitorous conspiring. Someone who probably pretended to Sejanus’s friend just to stab him in the back,” Mrs. Plinth sobbed. “My poor boy…he deserved to die of old age after a long, prosperous life. Not in the gallows.”
Bellova pulled the hysterical woman into an awkward hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Plinth. If you need anything, just call, and I’ll do what I can.” 
The woman nodded. “Thank you, Bellova. Any friend of Sejanus is a friend to my family. Coriolanus, Sejanus’s best friend, has been such a great source of comfort to us. My husband formally declared him our heir just yesterday.”
Bellova barely held back a noise of disgust.
“That’s…very kind of you,” she said instead.
After Mrs. Plinth had left with a basket full of fresh bread, Bellova sat down at a small table, processing this new information.
Sejanus was dead. And he had been betrayed. 
Betrayed by someone he called a friend.
And she knew exactly who had sent him to the gallows. Undoubtedly, he did it for his own personal benefit. And now he had taken Sejanus’s place as the heir to the massive Plinth fortune.
He really was pathetic. 
As twisted as it sounded, Bellova was glad she was informed of Sejanus’s execution and why it had come about. 
It was one more thing to add to her list of blackmail against Coriolanus Snow.
✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊
TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! The tension within the story will only continue to build, until it finally snaps…
Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
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rokishimizu4 · 25 days
Text
Signal’s Fast Food Adventure
(I’m gonna be finishing up the BatFam headcannons on my tumblr, then take a small break before starting my actual BatFam story on my AO3, as I’m gonna be starting my new job soon and I need to get it into my routine. Doesn’t mean that I’ll quit posting, but I’ll be posting on my other blog more than on this one.) (Also, Reader is small and has those soul stealing gray/blue eyes, you’re welcome)
To say that Duke was so happy to be stuck on the day shift due to his powers and such would be undermining the sheer wiliness of Tim, who can barley stay awake during meetings on a good day, to replace him for an entire week after the spider incident.
Duke, while facing worse things than a giant spider that wasn’t even gonna hurt anyone, had allowed Tim to join him. Not because he was terrified that Tim would find someway to get him to agree, like putting a fake spider in his bed or something, certainly not.
But he was incredibly thankful when Tim returned to the night shift. Not that his brother was bad at being a daytime bat, but Duke knows that the daytime rouges would appreciate not getting a double dose of roasting from two bats (One bat bringing up mommy issues was enough, thank you)
Plus, the daytime rouges were polite enough not to attack during lunch rush (As the line to any fast food place, not to mention restaurant and gas stations, were packed with already hangry people) and mostly tried to pull off a few bank robberies instead of trying to blow shit up.
Speaking of the lunch rush, Signal sits down on the roof ledge overlooking some of the fast food places/ Restaurants that busy rouges and Gothamites frequently stop to grab a quick bite to eat (That a few tourists go to as well if they’re brave enough), and waits a good half an hour before making his way down once the crowd thins out enough that he could get in and out without being recognized. (Hopefully)
He waits a bit more, until he notices that someone was stepping out of the Batburger and placed a sign out a bit away, then turning back and going back in.
Signal smiles to himself, before dropping down onto the empty sidewalk and casually walking past the sign into the restaurant. (Which reads: Closed for cleaning, this is not an invitation to rob us! Signal is watching!)
The bell rings with the pleasant dings of common dinner bells (not unlike Alfred’s little dinner alarm) as the smell of pure greasy food assaults Signal’s nose as his mouth begins to water and his stomach growls.
“Hey Mr. Signal! Got your order up and ready!” A man back behind the counter calls out with a smile, a gray wife-beater hugs tightly to the man’s chest and eagerly clings to his prosthetic hand/arm and steel plating. The man had a weird Australian/Canadian accent, but the man’s skin reminded Duke of a cup of coffee with either too much milk or too little (depending on the light, he guesses)
Signal just gives the man (who he’s not sure what the guy’s name is as he has no name tag) a smile and a nod. Eagerly taking the bag of four bat burgers and a large fries and setting money on the counter.
He turns to leave, but stops when he accidentally bumps into someone (much smaller than him cause he was almost reaching 6ft).
Cue him looking down into the pouting storm clouds above a flooding river eyes of a very small person, of whom was wearing a knitted purple and turquoise sweater and ripped jeans, and something in his chest flutters like when he first met Damien and won his respect after a brutal patrol.
“Sorry little one. Here, let me help you back up.” Cue Signal reaching up and gently grabbing the kid’s? Hand and starting to help them up, only for his powers to activate mysteriously.
”SHIT CLOSE YOUR EYES!”
Cue Signal running out of the restaurant and back up onto the roof of the tallest building close to the sun.
Cue Signal experiencing a different type of ‘ghost vision’, one were he feels a brief flash of pain of a needle prick, and a taste of chocolate. But, he sees nothing but white, hospital white but different.
Once, the vision is over, he rushes back down to the Bat Burger. However, the person he accidentally ran into was already gone but he swore that he could make out a faint smell of bitter chocolate. (Which was weird as there were nothing made with chocolate in the Bat Burger, not after the Riddler broke the Milkshake and ice cream machines months ago.)
“Hey Mr. Signal, back for a new meal?” The Australian/Canadan man asks as he points down to the ruined bag that was supposed to be Signal’s meal. (Smoking like it got lit on fire and everyone was too lazy to even put it out correctly)
*Biggest dramatic, one full of regrets getting up this morning, sigh* “Yes please.”
(Let me know if you want the reader to be an actual adult, teenager, or a child. Also, I’m like 5’2” but I’m an adult. I feel more and more like I should make the reader a child, so please let me know)
(Also if I should do a Eddie/Venom headcannon too)
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strawberry-cowmilk · 1 year
Text
creativity is GONE so here's a random idea I got while working long shifts at my college student side job
would the brothers last working at my job
for context I work in a retail store that mainly sells sweets
not proof read
content warnings: none
-----
Lucifer
imagine the whole avatar of pride wearing a silly little apron selling pastries to people
he wouldn't even apply for that job honestly because he wants something more 'intellectual' than working in retail (hon would rather wreck his sanity with loads of paperwork than stand behind a counter selling sweets)
the headaches gets worse when one of his brothers would happen to see him working there
Mammon
he's worked in retail before so he's got the experience
mammon has a little trouble dealing with difficult customers though (it takes great strength to stay polite when some karen is blaming and yelling at you for having to pay 5 extra cents) (true story that happened multiple times)
he would probably get fired for skipping work too often though but when he is working he does a pretty good job
Leviathan
first of all during shifts you have to talk to literally everyone for hours straight
second of all you can't just start playing games on your phone or something because every minute you might get a customer
so no he wouldn't even apply and if levi somehow had to work there, maybe to earn back the money mammon never paid back, he'd quit after day 1
Satan
he'd do a good job, he can be trusted with the administrative work, and he reports any useful information to his boss
but satan would probably get into fights with rude customers which could get him fired
he'd also get annoyed when customers keep coming while he's trying to eat lunch
besides he would probably feel silly too wearing an apron and going 'do you want the chocolate or vanilla cake?'
Asmodeus
he'd do a decent job he'd just get bored of it after a month or two and quit
also during his shifts he mostly just talks to the people working at the shop next to his, leaving the shop without any employees
asmo would honestly forget some lowkey important stuff like keeping track of how many of which item were sold
also he wanted a mirror in the back and when it finally happened said mirror was a literal shard of glass (also a true story)
Beelzebub
we know what would happen
what store owner would hire beelzebub, avatar of gluttony to work at their sweets shop
beel is a regular customer at the store though and he's the reason they stay in business
but the employees do have to prepare themselves for when beel comes in to order his 100 cakes, 100 boxes of chocolate and 100 packs of cookies
Belphegor
your average shift is 9 hours long we all know what would happen
he might get hired somehow but the store owner instantly regrets it after getting 10 complaints about employees sleeping on the floor during work
longest he'd last before getting fired is a week
also he'd probably try to steal sweets and take them home for beel
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trashbag-baby666 · 5 months
Text
In my most truest angst form, I wanted to touch more on John and his ED in my hs au.
C/W-mentions of John having an ed.
As previously mentioned in past hc’s, John’s always been pretty picky about his food. Chicken strips are his biggest safe food and always has been. Unless, he knows he likes something else on the menu, John always orders chicken strips and fries. He calls himself a profession chicken strip expert, he knew the best ones and he said it certainly wasn’t canes.
John’s always had weird eating habits, he would bring his own lunches from home and wouldn’t eat them. Sometimes he would eat school lunch if a, Gale made him, or b it was chicken strip day or orange chicken days. During the summers he would spend with Gale it was similar of him not eating. When they were that age he just boiled it down to John rambling about his adhd medication and how it just kinda takes away his appetite.
It’s specifically when they’re juniors that things begin to hit a peak for him. His parents forced him back onto his adhd medication because of his grades. They were fighting worse than ever, anytime he was home his mom was chewing him out over something, blaming him for his father’s cheating. He knew very well that his mother loathed the fact that he looked just like his father. She made sure he didn’t forget.
These were the days where Curt and Gale could tell just by one look, if today would be a good day or bad day. He would push his food around at lunch until the bell sounded, that or if it touched he wouldn’t eat it. Gale caught on pretty fast, of course. He wasn’t pushy about it, or upfront about it, he just offers some kind words. “Do you wanna go get lunch from somewhere? I’ll buy it for you?” Or something that Gale finds to be more successful is when they share food. That way John isn’t over whelmed by his own plate and rather it’s something him and Gale can share. Except he knows that John finds it hard eating infront of others. At school it’s fine but if they’re out at a restaurant, Gale just politely asks for a box and an extra cup of ranch. He knows within an hour of John going home he’s gonna destroy the chicken strips left.
Unfortunately, things start to get worse around January. John’s having an even harder time eating just about anything, he dislikes the feeling of his food digesting. He learns pretty quick he can get around Gale if he waits till he’s in class after lunch and asks to go to the bathroom.
Gales beyond devastated when he finds out John’s been making himself throw up. He’s somewhat at a loss of how he can help John. He ends up making the difficult decision to really actually talk about it with him. They both had actively avoided talking about it with the other. Gale waits for a more appropriate time to bring it up with John.
They’re laying on Gales bed, John’s staring at the ceiling throwing a small ball up into the air and catching it. Gales trying to read his book but the thoughts are eating him away. He slowly put his book mark into his book and sets it on the nightstand.
He knows he has to watch how he phrases his words, he didn’t want John to get defensive and clam up.
“Can we talk about something?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry to bring it up, but John I’m getting worried about you and your eating habits.”
“Wuddya’ mean?”
“You haven’t been eating.”
John freezes up when Gale says that, he feels kinda like a child who just got caught red handed. He just shrugs it off with a small, “So?” But Gale most certainly isn’t going to leave it at that. So, he somewhat lets it go for the night and lands on they’ll talk about it again tomorrow.
They let the next day go by until they’re walking through the woods behind Gales house. Meatballs running ahead of them and Johns playing with a stick. But it isn’t Gale who brings it up it’s John.
He’s snapping this twig into pieces, “I was thinkin’ about what you said last night. Maybe it’s just because I’m on Adderall again but…I don’t know?” He shrugged tossing his broken up twig aside.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to know, I just wanna help you.”
John was struggling for his words, he felt uncomfortable talking about it. He didn’t know why? He could trust Gale with anything…but they just kept walking.
-
-
More to come?? Thanks for reading :3!!!<3
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yourmomxx · 1 year
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍
warnings: none
word count: 3.3k
Only after his third or-so time of blinking, Oliver ultimately realized that he was still, completely baffled, staring at the boy in front of him, while he was holding his same position in handing Oliver his notes.
With a slow and not-so-steady hand, Oliver grabbed the paper sheet out of the red-haired boy’s hands.
“Uh – thanks,” he managed to get out, which was quite an unimpressive first impression, and he silently scolded himself.
“Cooper Bradford,” the taller boy, whose name was Cooper Bradford, said, without being asked. He extended a stiff hand in Oliver’s direction. Oliver first stared at it, still laboriously holding his books and papers, stared back at Cooper’s brown eyes, and then at his hand.
“Oliver Otto,” he eventually said, clumsily shifting his papers onto one arm and grabbing Cooper Bradford’s hand. It was warm and sweaty. Or maybe Oliver’s hand was. He made sure to quickly wipe it on his jeans as they let go.
“Wait, Cooper Bradford as in Bradford?” Oliver gaped, after he had somehow caught himself and his mind clicked pieces into place. “Your family’s like, rich.”
Cooper just shrugged. “Yeah.”
He then gestured to Oliver’s papers. “Chemistry test?”
Oliver simply nodded.
“Mr Lenkin?”
Oliver nodded again.
“Guy’s a dick,” Cooper said.
Another nod. Oliver was truly wasting all of his eloquence on his family. He desperately needed to change that.
Cooper raised an eyebrow. Just the one. Impressive.
“Alright, Oliver Otto,” he said, “Good luck in your class.”
For some reason, Oliver didn’t mind that Cooper Bradford called him by his full name.
“Yeah. You too.” He didn’t even know what Cooper Bradford had as his next class.
The embarrassing fact that Oliver looked after Cooper Bradford as he passed him was cooled down just a bit when the other boy turned around and said, “Tell you what: he mostly patrols on the window side during his tests. Don’t ask me why.” Then he was gone, disappearing between the rushing bodies of students as if he was melting into them. Oliver made a show of sorting through his documents, before he himself made it on his way.
When he reached the classroom early, he grabbed the seat closest to the door.
**
Lunch was one of Oliver’s most ambivalent times of the day, in terms of liking.
He saw it as an opportunity to improve his social status by choosing just the right table to sit down at for the hour, but not too right, or he would get dumped in an embarrassing manner by a bunch of fake popular kids after a week. That happened to Taylor. He shuddered just thinking about it.
On the other hand, the tablegroups were just a reminder of everything that Westport had to offer that he didn’t have.
But he would show them.
Only half determined, Oliver headed for the table where the – not self-proclaimed – Tech Asians sat.
Although the term was not entirely (not at all) politically correct, it was the one that was the most fitting for them. They were a group of about two to at most eight guys – it was varying – who were simply really good at tech, and also all happened to be Asian.
It was his second time sitting with them this week, he really needed to watch himself from now on.
There were simple, unspoken rules at this school – and any other middle school, really. One of them being: whatever group of people you sit with during breaks, have the power to define your entire social status.
Maybe for a lifetime.
For Oliver, this meant treading carefully if he didn’t want to end up like the guys eating with their geography teacher at lunch in a classroom. He couldn’t be seen sitting too often with the wrong group of people. And yes, he did have a schedule for it.
“Hey, Oliver Otto!”
Oliver froze for the second time that day, recognizing the sound of the same voice. He frantically looked around, but not too frantically, he didn’t want to seem needy. When he spotted Cooper Bradford, sitting on a table a few feet away from him, surrounded by all his friends and waving him over, Oliver gave a nod and a recognizing smile in his direction.
Like a badass.
He approached the table. But not walking too fast, that would look like he craved Cooper Bradford’s attention. Which he did, but there was no use in him knowing.
“What’s up, guys?” He tried to sound casual as he slid into the seat next to a boy who he recognized from his math class, whose expensive watch beamed like the golden hues of his hair.
“Guys,” Cooper said, and adjusted his sweater. “This is Oliver Otto. We met today.”
Oliver nodded.
He really needed to stop doing that in Cooper Bradford’s presence.
One after the other, the boys at the table shook his hand in a polite manner. There were four of them, Cooper Bradford not included.
“Thomas.”
“Alexander.”
“Kilian.”
“Jonas.”
Rich people names for rich people’s kids. Oliver appreciated that. Just as he did the strong grips their hands had around his when he shook them. Poor kids just didn’t know right etiquette when it came to the small things like this.
He had known all of their names before, of course. But that was another thing to keep sealed in the huge closet of information in his mind.
“Oliver has class with Length-kin as well,” Cooper said, and nipped on his water bottle. The table snickered at his words. Oliver just looked confused.
“It’s a nickname we gave him,” Cooper explained. “You know, because he’s so tall, and skinny. Like a beanstalk.”
Alexander, a white-blond boy with braces leaned over the table closer to Oliver. “It was Cooper’s idea,” he said, almost hushing it like an expensive secret. “He’s really creative.”
Cooper just shrugged, but a satisfied smirk played around his lips. “I am.”
Oliver found himself smiling back. Lunch didn’t even taste half bad that day.
Being friends with Cooper Bradford turned out to be quite ... unfriendly. To be fair, Oliver didn’t exactly know how rich people tended to keep their relationships. He was just used to it being different.
Being Cooper Bradford’s friend felt more like being in the crowd of a really bad talkshow. Smiling, nodding, and aww-ing at the stories that he told, laughing when it was just the right time, just the right amount of laughs, and yes, he was the boss, he set the tone.
Oliver made mental notes of all of the rich people things that those rich people around him mentioned, as things that he would get later in his life and rub in those entitled asshat’s faces. And yes, his friends were asshats, naturally, otherwise they wouldn’t be his friends. Later, when he owned his very own company, that had so many employees that he could sit in his own office from home, only making time for the most important of them for the most important matters, because he was rich like that, and when he wore expensive suits that didn’t scratch around his neck, and when Margot Robbie would talk about him on the Jimmy Fallon show-
“And what about you, Oliver?” Thomas’ voice ripped him out of his daydreams like a bottom flap being opened under him, landing him right back on his ass to where he was – the school cafeteria. “What properties do your parents own?”
Oliver resisted the urge to either roll his eyes or sigh. Or the combi-package.
In the few months that he had been friends – or something – with these guys, he had learned a very lot about them.
Everyone had their own position in this friend-or-something-group.
For example, Thomas here; one would think that his Rolex watch and the Loro Piana sweater weighed as much as they cost, judging by the terrible posture that boy already held in his young day and age.
Alexander loved everything that Cooper Bradford did, and walked on, and mentioned, and looked at. And he hated everything that Cooper Bradford hated, despised, complained about. He stopped wearing khaki the second that Cooper Bradford said it didn’t suit his eyes, and once volunteered to scrape off a sweet-pink gum from Cooper Bradford’s chair when they went to class. He was such a 2000’s High School-movie-like follower, it was almost comical.
Jonas was conceited, he prided himself way too much on the fact that his first name was the same as the Jonas brothers’ last name. His hair was a dark brown, it was almost black, but no one was allowed to mention that it was. He said that assuming the color of his hair was racist against minorities.
Jonas was a white, straight guy.
Kilian was the only one out of them that could be called the closest to normal. With chestnut brown hair and the green eyes, he was someone that kept more to himself than get involved with anyone else. Listening and observing, rather than being the one doing the talking.
And Oliver himself, well. He was doing his best to conceal the fact that he actually had less than nothing to present, in the material department, and he was barely holding his head above water in situations like this one.
What estates did they own? They didn’t even own their house. “Well, our hous- our home, of course.” That was about everything he could think of. Time for his defense tactic.
He said, “I don’t really like to brag about it-”
“No, come on, tell us,” Thomas urged him, and scooted just a bit closer. Sometimes he reminded Oliver of a starved coyote, who was just waiting for Oliver to slip up and scrape his knee, to lick himself happy on his blood.
Oliver swallowed hard. “Well, there for sure is one beautiful estate in Austria, and-“ Alright Oliver, that’s enough, “- I’m pretty sure many others. My parents like to keep those things locked up so the inheritance trading can be a fun surprise later on.”
Liar.
He was a liar. But then again, Leonardo DiCaprio didn’t get that famous by being honest, either. Or by dating age-appropriate women.
Kilian nodded. “Your parents have humor. I respect that.”
“Austria?” Jonas asked. “I heard that’s where kangaroos live!” Alexander shoved his shoulder. “No, you idiot. It’s way too cold for them up in the north. Kangaroos live in the desert.” He looked around the table. “That’s why their skin is that color. To disguise themselves from lions and stuff.”
If this were a slightly less influential group of people, Oliver would have picked up his tray and sat down with the Mathletes. But they weren’t. So he just ducked his head to hide his eyeroll and stayed silent.
Considering the circumstances, Oliver got along really well with his new friends. But he made his real breakthrough the first time he was invited to Cooper Bradford’s party, at Cooper Bradford’s house. His casa.
He was scrolling through his phone when someone slapped his locker shut merely centimeters away from his face. Oliver jumped, and did his best to hold in an embarrassing screech. He ended up with an embarrassing yelp.
Well.
Cooper Bradford rested his palm next to him on the line of metal lockers, and Oliver was suddenly haunted by a self-conscious thought about if his hair looked alright.
“There’s a party at mine tonight,” Cooper Bradford stated, and Oliver couldn’t help but notice that he was looking him up and down. That was judgement.
“Why don’t you come over?” An order, camouflaged as a question. “Think it might be fun.”
Oliver’s mouth went dry, and he realized just now that his jaw had, quite literally, dropped.
He closed his mouth and shook his head to get himself out of the haze. “Oh, yeah,” he stumbled. “I mean – yes. I’ll be there.”
Cooper nodded and pushed himself off the lockers. “Alright. See ya then.” Then he walked past Oliver and was gone.
And if Oliver fled into the school bathroom to do happy jumps and fist pumps in a stall, well then that was between him and the toilet wall.
When Doris took the liberty of playing psycho Mom, ruined his plans and danced on their ashes like witches on Walpurgis night, Oliver felt the urge to strangle someone for the first time in his life.
Later, when his mother finally let him free, he told her he genuinely loved her for the first time since he was seven years old.
Afterwards, he was more confused about it than she was.
“Sorry I’m late,” Oliver rushed, as he came to a halt in front of his friends. “I was-“ Held hostage by my mom’s best friend and forced to drink meat. “-busy otherwise.”
Cooper nodded and clapped his shoulder. “You got your priorities sorted, hombre. I respect that.”
Through his lack of air, that he pretended he didn’t have, Oliver managed to smile. Cooper led him into the crowds.
They didn’t drink that night. They were a cool group of popular guys, but they still weren’t older than twelve and thirteen. It just didn’t cross their minds.
Cooper Bradford’s house wasn’t a house, it was a castle, especially in Oliver’s standards. The party itself took place in the hugest living room (because, naturally, Cooper Bradford’s castle had more than one), but they were offered to use the arcade room as well, and the home theater (not the one his parents owned, though, because Cooper had his own – again, naturally).
Meanwhile, in a corner occupied by a large leather sofa with cushions that Oliver didn’t even dare to ask what animal’s fur they were made out of, he sat with his group of friends – the Cooper Bradgade (get it? Because Bradford, and brigade? Yeah, Alexander came up with it, nobody really liked it) – and bragged about his properties he didn’t own, and the yacht that unfortunately sank when Taylor christened it, and the beautiful Friesian horse that Anna-Kat adopted, before Prince George of England bought it from them as a present for his queen.
Oliver realized he just kept running faster and faster in his hamster wheel. And one day, he knew, he was going to stumble, and the centrifugal force was going to throw him right out. And he knew it was going to hurt.
But for now, he just kept running.
Oliver felt like a puppet being strung along by Cooper Bradford, though he would never admit that out loud, to anyone, not even himself. Those were just his feelings, anyway, and for a twelve-year-old boy, feelings were stupid regardless. So, it didn’t matter. He sped up.
Around his family, Oliver didn’t pass up even one opportunity to brag about Cooper Bradford, and complain about everything that Cooper Bradford had that he didn’t.
“You know that Cooper Bradford has a credit card for every day of the week, right?”
“Well, Cooper Bradford’s parents don’t pay attention to him, and tell you what, he doesn’t mind at all. Because he’s rich.”
This went so far that his mother banned the name “Cooper Bradford” from their house entirely. She also tried to interfere in their relationship as friends, but even Katie Otto had to realize that she did not have any power over what happened at the school grounds.
When Oliver started not shutting up about “his friends” as an impartial synonym for “Cooper Bradford”, his mom banned all talk about the people he associated with. Which is how she referred to his friends now.
That was until Oliver’s birthday party. When suddenly everyone he had ever, or never, talked to at school, stood in his living room and were waiting for their diy-ed “escape room” to open its gates.
The party that Oliver didn’t even want, and that Cooper Bradford came to his house to celebrate.
He didn’t know how to feel about all of this. It turned out to be much more complicated than even his former lunch schedules.
“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Alice McCarthy said to him, blue eyes looking sincere and hopeful like those of a baby cat, and something in him melted.
Because, God, did he want to tell them. He wanted to complain to someone about the way his father made his sandwiches, or that his mother would make them run around with their clothes as capes, so they dried faster in autumn, because the drier used up too much unnecessary electricity.
So he said, “We’re actually in hiding from the government.”
Which was close enough.
Then Alice McCarthy kissed him, and it was the best moment of Oliver’s life. But she also taught him a valuable lesson on the way. Why would he need to pretend to be someone else? He wasn’t going to keep the castles of his friendship, that he built so carefully, standing on a hill made of sand. And if they didn’t like the fact that his family didn’t have money, then screw them. That was an incredibly materialistic way of thinking, anyway.
His courage lasted up until the second he stood before Cooper Bradford, both of them alone in a corner at the school hallways. That’s when his hands started to sweat, and his heart was pumping faster.
“So, what did you want to talk about, amigo?” Cooper Bradford also liked to throw in words in Spanish when he spoke. Oliver didn’t know where it came from, but it probably had some very distinguished origin.
“Yeah, exactly,” he said. His fingers were fumbling with the hem of his sweater. He better not pull any threads.
Suddenly, a warm hand was on top of his.
“Hey,” Cooper said as Oliver looked up at him. “We’re friends, amigo. Forgot about that? You can tell me about stuff.”
That’s right. Oliver straightened his shoulders. That’s right, they were friends. And friends, like they were, could tell each other stuff.
“I’m not actually rich.”
A sharp breath left Oliver’s lungs. There, he said it, and it felt surprisingly good. Oliver let his shoulders slump, like an invisible weight had been lifted off them.
It’s just that his mouth wouldn’t stop talking now. “I lied to you. And I made my Dad lie to you. And everyone else. We don’t have a private island, or a yacht, and I don’t even like Kendrick Lamar.”
Wow. That was a confessing confession. Oliver took a deep breath in. He hadn’t done that since he started talking. Maybe he should go to church more often.
Cooper Bradford frowned. “So … you’re poor?” He asked, slowly. “And that was really your house?"
Oliver swallowed hard and nodded.
Cooper Bradford stayed silent for a few moments. Oliver suddenly missed the warmth of the other boy’s hand on his.
Then, he felt something on his shoulder, and Cooper Bradford was looking at him with something that seemed like … he actually had no idea.
“You’re not afraid to live your truth,” Cooper said. “Even though it is a very humiliating truth that probably would have prevented me from talking to you had I’d known it before.”
Welp, this was going great.
“But I respect you for that, Oliver.” He held his hand out. “Friends?”
Something inside Oliver did a somersault. He smiled brightly and shook Cooper’s hand. It was the same, but felt so very different to the first time they had met.
“Well, then let’s eat.” Cooper put an arm around Oliver’s shoulders and led him back to their table. “I am actually starving.”
And, just like that, Oliver’s hamster wheel turned into a ferris wheel, where he could sit down and relax, while he slowly spun around in circles, the entire world beneath him.
One for the money And two for the show I love you, honey I'm ready, I'm ready to go […] You're screwed up and brilliant Look like a million dollar man So why is my heart broke?
-Million Dollar Man, Lana Del Rey
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professor-walnut · 2 years
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Sometimes like today when my depression gets out of control for a while, I'll do things like search the internet desperately for advice or motivation to make it through another night, unable to come up with my own reasons. And scrolling through places like redit; all I see over and over is the phrase "it gets better"
And listen man, I have never hated anything more than that phrase.
I was first diagnosed as depressed when I was eight. "You'll grow out of it" the doctor said.
I went to therapy at 14 when I was suicidal. "You'll feel better when you're older and your hormones calm down" she said.
I got put on antidepressants at 17. "You'll be fine once you finish school and get into a routine" the doctor told me.
At 23 I was told "Excersize, healthy eating, a good social group, get all that down and things will get better"
I'm 26 nearly 27 and I've followed every rule and piece of advice and it has never gotten better, every year it gets worse, it gets harder.
Life never stops getting harder. You can do everything 'right', you can get perfect grades in school and be polite and kind and avoid drugs and alcohol and work hard at everything you do, but sometimes you'll still end up unemployed and burnt out and poor and lonely. Sometimes no matter what you do you'll be a failure.
So hearing "things will get better" frustrates me, probably frustrates many people. Because when does it get better? Have you ever met a depressed person who has experienced it get better? Probably not.
So you know what, here's a better piece of advice to keep trying, for anyone else out there trying to find reasons.
Maybe everyone else in your life is doing better than you, they have jobs and families and hobbies, and you're sleeping 20 hours a day and feeling worthless and lying to your family about how you're doing all the time so they won't be disappointed. Maybe you're in your 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s - and you still havn't achieved anything worthwhile, maybe you never will.
But once back in university I went out at 3am with the intention of ending my life, I was having a panic attack during a depressive episode, suicide hotline was busy and I went out almost in a daze with the intention of stepping into traffic desperate to end the terrifying panic and pain. But during my walk, a knock down drunk guy passed me and he smiled at me. He didn't even say anything, just smiled as he stumbled past.
For whatever reason, that tiny, seemingly insignificant gesture was enough to make me think twice about my decisions and go back home.
How many times have you smiled at someone on the street in passing, or at a cashier at a store, or at the bus driver? Probably 99% of the time it barely makes a difference to someone's day, but maybe 1% of the time it does, maybe it impacts someone, and maybe that tiny chance is worth you keeping your smile alive for.
Maybe a crappy sketch you did as a joke or a fanfiction you wrote one night at 3am is someone out there's favourite thing in the world, maybe the time you baked shitty cookies for the staffroom at work, one person is thrilled because they forgot their lunch, maybe that person you held the door open for last week was having a shit time and your tiny action reminded them that there were kind people in the world, maybe the old man who talked to you for 30 seconds in the grocery store line has been lonely for months and you made his day with your brief few exchanged words because you let him feel seen, maybe the postit note you wrote a silly message on ten years ago for someone in school is still stuck on their desk giving them motivation and reminding them that the world isn't all bad.
Maybe you are inputting into the world more than you realise, and even if you sleep for 72 hours at a time and spend 6 days of the week crying and feel like a waste of space, maybe the world is lucky to have you in it. Even if only for the tiny moments where you subconsciously smile at a stranger - because you are always more important than you feel you are, no matter who you are and what you do.
Maybe things won't get better, the likelihood is they won't, but maybe humans are made of tough stuff and have survived bullets and falls from airplanes, so maybe you can survive a lot more than you feel you can. Tomorrow things won't feel as bad, and next time you feel even more horrible you'll know you can get through it because you survived it last time.
Maybe every minute you're surviving is worth it for those little times you impact the world silently from the shadows without even knowing it.
Sometimes all you need to to is breathe to knock down a domino. So keep breathing, even if that's all you can do.
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moonchilde01 · 6 months
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An Observation of Homelessness
Everyone says that being homeless is horrible and I’m sure that in the big cities it is. However, I was homeless for three years in a small city that thinks it’s a big city. It has an inflated ego to say the least. That said this is where I grew up and I love this place.
Now back to how horrible being homeless is. I have to admit that the worst part of it was the addict that I dated for seven years. We won’t talk about him though. I’m still dealing with the PTSD that he caused and would rather not reopen wounds that it’s taken me years to heal.
I always said that if someone was homeless my town was the place to be. There was a place that served breakfast and lunch and another one that served dinner. Both places served seven days a week, 365 days a year. If you went hungry it was your own fault or you were working during the hours that food was being served.
Living in tent city was actually nice sometimes. I was out in nature and for the first time that I can recall I found serenity when I was alone in my tent. I’d listen to the owls talk to each other every night. They were usually polite and spoke in turns, however there were times when I imagined that they were arguing over something important because they’d all talk at once.
In my area I had a skunk that I fed, at a distance of course, but if I sat outside of my tent quietly she would curl up under my chair and sleep. I just made sure not to make any quick moves. At night she would curl up to me if it was cold. Her outside the tent and me inside of course.
I only knew a few homeless people that were dirty or stinky. Most of us kept water in gallon jugs at our campsites that we used to wash off. The place that served breakfast and lunch also offered showers three days a week which was nice in warm weather but really sucked when it was cold. I never had to use this service in winter because I was lucky enough to get into the shelter during that time. Okay that’s enough about me.
Now as you can imagine I’m an advocate for the homeless. But there are things that I don’t think a lot of advocacy groups understand. In a perfect world we would all live in houses or apartments but there are a lot of homeless people that have been given that opportunity and turned it down or tried living in a place that are back out on the streets in a matter of weeks to a month or two.
A good portion of homeless people cannot function in what’s considered a normal society. There are various reasons for this. Some have mental disabilities; some have that combined with addictions of one sort or another. The hard truth is that not having bills that will eat up your drug money is preferrable. Some have just become used to this lifestyle and don’t have the desire to live in a house or apartment. I personally have known many homeless people like this.
Where the advocacy needs to focus isn’t so much on housing the homeless as it is providing services like my hometown offer. Food, medical care and yes more shelters. Especially during winter. True many of the people won’t take advantage of the shelters but there are many that will. We  also need to have more family shelters because unfortunately there are more children that are homeless than most people realize.
Please don’t think that I’m saying I know all the solutions because any society is complex and has many facets. I’m just speaking from experiences that a lot of advocates have never been through. It’s just my personal opinion of how we can help instead of saving our fellow humans that are living a different life than we are.
4 April 2024
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missduplicities · 1 year
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OTASD | Chapter 4: I was just tongue-tied
“What did you do yesterday?” Yuna asked Nabi as they walked to their classroom.
“Not much. Went for a walk and stayed home watching movies,” she didn’t know why she felt the need to lie about it, she had stayed home studying (or at least trying to). “You?”
“I was forced to be social,” Eun-Chae sighed. “I went to church with my parents, then they had this amazing idea to invite people over for dinner,”
“Sounds awful,” Nabi said, not joking at all.
“Speaking of church,”
“No thanks!”
“I wasn’t going to invite you,” Eun-Chae rolled her eyes. “I was going to say that the hot guy showed up with his family,”
“Hot guy who?”
“Yuna’s photography class hot guy,”
“Kim Seokjin was at church?”
“So, that’s his name! I spent the whole service trying to remember what he was named. I didn’t know he was Sister Kim’s son,”
“You know her mother?”
“From the church,” Eun-Chae said. “She is worship leader. She has a beautiful voice,”
That makes sense, Nabi thought. All she knew about the guy was that he was on his way to becoming a singer just a while ago.
Something Nabi would never admit was the fact that she found it annoying that this guy who came out of nowhere was becoming relevant in her people’s lives. He wasn’t even hot, he just was a new face, that was it.
During the lunch break, Nabi ditched her friends to continue (and hopefully finish) the book she was reading. She walked to her usual spot, only to light up the resentment she had been feeling earlier, as she saw the guy everyone seemed to be talking about, reading in her spot.
“Oh, hi,” he said as he looked up, fixing his glasses.
“What are you doing here?” this had to be a joke.
“In the library?” he asked, a bit confused. “Reading?”
“And you couldn’t find another spot to read?” she wasn’t usually this pressed about stuff like that, but it was her spot. She didn’t complain when Eun-Chae sat next to the window, even though she liked that seat, too. She never said anything when her parents picked the place when they were out to eat, even on her birthday. She didn’t mind that Yuna took the last spot in the Photography class, even though she had said before that it was something she wanted to try. And she didn’t complain when her father brought up the Kim’s model son in every conversation, even though she wished it was her she was proud about. This was the only thing that was hers. This stupid, little spot in the school library, where she could escape from the world for a while.
“It’s a good spot,” he said quietly. “Away from everyone else,”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, unaware that she was frowning.
“Oh, that’s why you came here, right?” he felt a bit bad for intruding in her alone time, standing up quickly, ready to leave. “There you go, all yours,”
He didn’t have to go. She hated him for doing so. He didn’t have to be nice when she was a dick to him. He was so annoying. She refused to say anything else, so she just sat in the corner, got her iPod and headphones out, and started reading her book. Not long after, she was interrupted by her own thoughts and feelings of remorse. She felt guilty for talking to the guy like that, only then realizing that he was also looking for a place to hide from the world. Unable to keep reading, Nabi left the library earlier than she expected.
The last few hours in school felt like an eternity to Nabi, who desperately needed to get home and disappear for a while. She barely talked to her friends and was even ignoring Dani’s texts. When Eun-Chae offered to take her home, Nabi politely declined, saying she’d like to learn to get there on the bus. She had never done it, so she was a bit nervous. To make things worse, she bumped into Kim Seokjin once more. It was awkward for both of them. He took his distance, quietly standing while waiting for the bus to arrive. She pretended to know what she was doing, getting to the bus with her headphones on, completely unaware that the driver was asking her to pay, which (she didn’t know) Seokjin did for her. Nabi sat next to an elderly woman at the back, while Seokjin chose one seat at the front, which was helpful since she didn’t even know which exactly was her bus stop.
Kim Seokjin: Sorry to bother
Kim Seokjin: Is it okay if I come by later to park your dad’s car in your garage?
Kim Seokjin: My dad took it to the mechanic to get it checked
She had totally forgotten that she had his number. There was that feeling again. She didn’t understand why the familiarity between their families was so infuriating to her.
Ahn Nabi:  sure
Ahn Nabi: please tell me you’re awake
Dani: barely
Dani: what is it?
Ahn Nabi: I hate my dad
Dani: what did he do now?
Ahn Nabi: Well, no, I don’t hate dad
Ahn Nabi: I hate the Kims
Ahn Nabi: They are so nosy
Dani: I love the Kims, they are very nice
Ahn Nabi: didn’t seokjun break your heart?
Dani: yeah, a bit
Dani: But his family is very nice
Dani: I’m sure they’re just trying to be nice
Kim Seokjin: just fyi
Kim Seokjin: we’re five stops away
I didn’t ask, Nabi thought.
Dani: did you finish the book?
Ahn Nabi: Dude, I finally did!
Dani: thoughts?
Ahn Nabi: I was shook with the last scene
Dani: What did you think about the affair?
Kim Seokjin: four stops away
Ahn Nabi: this asshole
Dani: Who? Seb?
Ahn Nabi: Don’t talk to me about Seb!!
Kim Seokjin: 3 stops away 😁
Dani: You’ve got to admit he is hot
Ahn Nabi: He is hot, we all know that, that’s the problem
Dani: You can’t blame her, can you?
Kim Seokjin: next stop is where we get off
Ahn Nabi: 👍
Ahn Nabi: I can’t blame her for wanting one last rough sex night with her high school sweetheart before she was exiled
Ahn Nabi: I mean he is fine as hell
Ahn Nabi: I do blame her for getting married with the man she didn’t love, though
Kim Seokjin: this is where we get off
Dani: Did you see who is playing him in the movie?
Dani: that white dude from that movie where he loses his memory
She waited until Seokjin got off to stand from her seat, avoiding him as much as possible. He seemed to be in a hurry all of a sudden, walking straight to his place without looking back. She thought it was rude of him, even though she had been planning on doing the same.
Nabi thought she had never been so excited to get home. She was determined to enjoy the last couple of days before her parents arrived, which meant she would get to blast the music as loud as she wanted, mostly.
As she went to the kitchen to pick up some leftovers, she heard an engine she recognized approaching. The garage gate opened, and her dad’s car came in. She was trying to come up with an excuse to avoid seeing the guy but was too ashamed to use the ‘sorry I was in the bathroom’ one.
Kim Seokjin: I left the keys in the trunk
Ahn Nabi: Thanks
Nabi froze. She felt something heavy and cold drop to her stomach, immediately followed by a rush of heat that made her face burn. Right above his message, she read what was supposed to be sent to Dani.
Ahn Nabi: I can’t blame her for wanting one last rough sex night with her high school sweetheart before she was exiled
Ahn Nabi: I mean he is fine as hell
Ahn Nabi: I do blame her for getting married with the man she didn’t love, though
Kim Seokjin: next stop is where we get off
Ahn Nabi: *thumbs up*
Kim Seokjin: I left the keys in the trunk
Ahn Nabi: Thanks
(Previous) (Next)
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rillette · 2 years
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As a former gremlin kid (as in my school would be like “just don’t go past that one white line” and I’d skip class just so they’d find me sitting one inch from the white line) I adore ur robin jason so much
TYSM!!! I was also a little shithead kid we are brothers in arms 😈🤝😈
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p-antomime · 3 years
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Henry Jekyll's clothing.
𖦹 minors don’t interact. | wc: 3,7K.
𖦹 content: faux sympathy dom!mitsuya, unprotected sex, nick names, praise kink + worship, mention of masturbation (m!), implied handjob, filming w/o consent, heavy breath play, panties stealing, squirting, clit play, creampie, manipulation, cum eating, overstimulation, mention of commercialization of non-consented photos, dark content.
𖦹 pairings: pervy!takashi mitsuya x f!reader.
ᥫ᭡. request. | tokyo rev. masterlist! | taglist!
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— Don't look at me like that, you can almost make me feel guilty when you're the one paying for it, man! — A wicked sideways smile appeared on his lips and his lavender orbs were lit with a glint of malice that almost dripped with venom. — C’mon. Give it to me. — His hand gestured toward the boy in front of him as if to say "Gimme the money now" and seconds later several yen bills were placed on the 'salesman's' palm. — Great, it's always great to do business with you, you can take that. — His head swiveled to the developed photos stored in a pile about six centimeters long and held together by a thin satin ribbon. — And I don't need to repeat myself, do I? Just keep your mouth shut and my business is still going on, nobody likes a stool pigeon, y’know?
Mitsuya gave a small wink of amusement to the university student in front of him before turning around, checking hours for the last time and walking to the hallway that led to the room for the next class after lunch.
During his venture down the hallway, Takashi greeted a few college students he was chatting with and exchanging information and photos of other people with just a glance and a small smile that by anyone else would be seen as politeness or just kindness.
Yes, kindness. Takashi Mitsuya's middle surname. Polite, though confident. An exemplary student in college who usually helped other classmates or friends to get a good enough grade to get through the school semester without too much trouble. If one were to lean close enough to smell the perfume on Mitsuya's neck, one could see that he exuded courtesy and friendliness.
Perhaps he should be studying Performing Arts and not Fashion in college. If Florence Pugh's performance as Dani Ardor in Midsommar was impeccable, Mitsuya's one in college was much better. He would be able to found or revive Hårga, but Florence could not take pictures or record videos underneath the skirts of college students without alarming their sense of danger.
It was easy for Takashi and even advantageous, since he could wildly use the photos and videos as masturbation material then hand them over to guys willing to pay for them since he kept almost everything on a cloud storage system on his home computer.
Upon arriving at the room for the first class of the afternoon period, Mitsuya's eyes immediately went looking for who he had generally been most interested in for long weeks. And there Y/N was: scribbling something on a sketch in a distracted yet focused manner. Soon after, his attention went to her body covered by a bluish long-sleeved blouse and a skirt of a different shade of the same color as that piece that did not leave much of the skin of her thighs exposed. And what color panties would they be? He wanted to know.
— Uh-uh, how pretty! — That was the only thing Mitsuya said as a way of getting your attention before he pulled out his chair and sat down beside you. — Did you get better at shading and the jewelry arrangement? — He leaned over to get a better look at the sketch as he moved his attention to your blouse-covered breasts.
Honestly, you felt like a teenager in high school whenever Takashi spoke to you. His gentle smile made your heart beat faster than the adrenaline rush of going on several roller coasters in a row, and the way he looked at you every time you sat down in the vacant class chair? It was more than just a remnant of cordiality, it bordered almost between the fine line of affection and platonic crush. You didn't know that he was Edward Hyde in Henry Jekyll's clothing.
Mitsuya Takashi was too good to be true.
— Did you notice? — A broad smile appeared on your lips and he nodded before staring into your eyes gleaming with excitement.
— How could I not? You're always so hard working that it's kind of hard not to notice when you evolve quickly in what you're trying to do, you're too good to be just a college student. — Mitsuya drummed his fingers on the table you two shared and turned eyes to your sketch, and you looked away, not knowing how to react to his sudden compliment. — But may I ask what this new dress is for?
— Do you remember that paper that I think we have to turn in in the next few weeks? — Mitsuya asked: "That one could be done in pairs?”  and you nodded before speaking again: — Yeah, I was kind... anyways... — Your voice died before you could continue the sentence because you thought he would think you were an idiot for martyring yourself over a lack of a pair for a college assignment and Mitsuya raised one eyebrows.
— And you didn't come to ask me? — He leaned toward you with the social excuse of analyzing the sketch in front of him and the mental truth and purpose of seeing a little more of your breasts below the cutout of the blouse's neckline. — I was intending to do it myself, but... — And then Takashi's mind started to think of an excuse to give to his current work partner because from the moment you said veiledly that you were without one, an idea was born in his twisted head. — I can do it with you, if you want me around, obvious.
If you tried to hide how embarrassed and flattered you were, it would be even more of a shame. Your mouth opened and closed a few times without knowing what or how to answer. You didn't want to just say "Okay!" or "Great!" and even less refuse to look like you hadn't completely melted at how much he was helping you. Mitsuya was too perfect. How could you even think of refusing his request?
And Takashi, on the other hand, noticed the way your legs were nervously clenching against each other and he knew that it wasn't because you were aroused, but rather, it was your body's way of trying to control the happiness inside you. Too easy. Too easy a prey. Around him, you were almost a bimbo princess. Takashi thought this was adorable, he could almost imagine how desolate you would be to know that your golden boy was nothing more or less than a perverted wolf in sanctified lamb's clothing.
You weren't even thinking straight when a breathless "'Tsuya" escaped your lips as your mind tried to function to respond not so enthusiastically nor so disinterestedly to his invitation. And a shiver ran down Mitsuya's back as he heard you call him by something that to you seemed shameful and to him seemed too perversely innocent not to be sexualized.
— What? — Mitsuya forced himself to blink a few times only to see you look away in embarrassment and frustration and snap your fingers nervously. — What did you call me? I don't think I heard you correctly, could you repeat that?
— I said that I'd love it if we could do the paper together. — You tried to deflect the situation and a small smile appeared on his lips.
— Oh, really? I thought you just said something like: 'Tsuya', I think I may be hearing too much today. — He shrugged, letting his hand drop to the underside of the table and apparently accidentally brushing his fingertips against your skirt-covered thigh, shortly after which the sound that escaped his mouth made you pay no attention to the dangerous movement of his hand. — But I’d like you to add a "My" in front of that.
You choked on saliva and it was almost the same second that the teacher walked into the room and Takashi pulled his hand away from your thigh.
It was after that fateful day that Mitsuya started helping you with that university paper, and he was almost always coming to your house to help with the manual labor of starting to sew the dresses that the two of you needed to deliver. But then, on one of those Fridays, he asked you about who was going to wear them at the presentation and you suddenly remembered how he almost never presented the custom pieces on hangers and, rather, on the bodies of other girls who probably liked him as much as you did.
"Oh... I hadn't thought of that yet, honestly... But, I can try to see someone in the Performing Arts part of the college is willing to help us with it, what d'you reckon about it?", and your partner's eyes sparkled in anticipation with another idea appearing in his mind.
"And why not you, hm?", you looked at him for a few seconds and shrugged your shoulders in shame, "I think you'd be a great model, honestly, but you don't have to accept... even if, ya know, it'd save us a lil' bit of time in having to look for someone else interested in this."
And then the feeling of not wanting to disappoint him blossomed inside you. Mitsuya was trusting you.
Or he was just embroidering the situation to get you into his house with the excuse of wanting to see you dressed in one of the final dresses in the atelier he owned.
But, he was such a nice guy, wasn't he? It was this same nice guy who was walking you, over the weekend, through the halls of his house and helping you carry the almost completely finished dresses into the atelier that had isolated cameras too small to be seen with the naked eye at specific points.
— Which one first? — Takashi asked, kneeling down and rummaging through one of the boxes filled with thread and pins before taking a few and placing them on the long, spacious table on which he usually placed the garments he made.
— I think the purple one with the bateau neckline and the boat neck! — He nodded and gestured to one of the hangers left beside the place that was really only used when girls were being carried there.
Then your eyes went from the dress to the folding screen and then to Mitsuya who seemed distracted opening the sketches, but in reality he was watching you through peripheral vision just to make sure you got in where he most needed you to be.
If Takashi couldn't abuse your body today, without clothes, at least the extremely small cameras placed on the inner joints of the folding screen would be recording your every careless movement, every deep breath you took trying to unzip the back of the dress he purposely tampered with only to have you call for help later, after you had already put it on.
That's exactly what you did, unaware of the real, disgusting, almost too sinful to be human persona of Mitsuya, as you stepped out with the dress pinned to your body by your timid hands on bust and turned your back to the boy.
— Can you help me, please? I can't... y'know, the zipper, I think it's stuck or the seam inside is getting caught in it. — Mitsuya ran his tongue over lips as he imagined the precious almost three minutes it took you to undress and dress on that taped screen while his eyes strolled down your exposed back.
— Mhm, c'mere. — He patted the table lightly and you walked over to it. — Lean against the table for me, please? — Mitsuya said, stepping aside and watching you obey him again. — Okay, leave it to me now.
His icy hands brushed against the zipper and then brushed against your exposed back, his breath hitching lightly against the curve of your neck and your mind wondering why you were enjoying having him dangerously close like this. It was the first time Takashi had leaned too far over your body and time seemed to be too slow. Or maybe your anxiety and nervousness were making you think that 10 seconds equals 100 years.
— Um, no, I can't fix the zipper if you're wearing it. — Takashi's hands caught on the sleeves of the dress and immediately started to slowly pull the garment down, as if he was measuring how much you could accept without feeling uncomfortable.
— Takashi, w-wait, I can take it off by myself. — You looked over the shoulder at him and only as you felt his calming breath against your cheeks did you realize how close he really was.
— I'm just helping you. — Mitsuya's tone dropped a few octaves, and as he saw you unconsciously slide eyes from his to his ajar mouth, he knew he had won that game of conditioning and words of dubious meaning.
And then his face tilted a little more and you didn't know if you wanted to actually walk away, the chance to kiss the guy you've liked since you could remember the feeling was right in front of you.
— Trust me, I won't do anything you won't lemme do. — He whispered, raising his eyebrows suggestively, and, ignoring your hands holding the dress over your body, continued to pull it down until he saw your naked silhouette the moment the garment reached your heels and Mitsuya turned you to face him.
His eyes met yours and as you felt fingers travel up your back to reach the clasp of your bra to loosen it until it was removed, you felt the breath catch in the middle of the throat as a shiver ran down your spine and made your walls clench around nothing.
— Oh, look at you, have you been hiding your body from me all this time? You're so cute, I was right when I said you'd make a great model. — His face tilted and, again, your lips were so close together that it hurt your heart not to have his on yours.
Your hands in a desperate act hooked themselves in his lilac hair with black highlights and legs instinctively let Mitsuya's body slip between them with your pussy beginning to wet the bottom of the panties rubbing against his boner becoming more and more evident.
— Kiss me, Mitsuya, please, I... — He took your face in one hand while the other traveled up your torso to reach your panties and began to tease your clit only to feel you wetting that fabric more.
Yes, yes, yes, Mitsuya wanted you to leave as much of your arousal as possible on that piece of clothing so that he could steal it later and smell it while he masturbated.
— But d'you deserve it? — And the only thing you could answer was a gasping "Yes", almost too humiliating to say because you were too busy trying to force hips against his hand between your legs. — Deserve? — Mitsuya leaned his face toward you and you tried to take his lips in a kiss only to see him, soon after, pull away slightly and apply more pressure to your clit before making circular motions that made you moan low before biting your bottom lip.
It even felt like your body was more sensitive than usual. Or maybe it was just the euphoria of finally having Takashi's fingers on a part of your body that you had craved more than once.
— Yes, I do, please, 'Tsuya, just... — He gestured for you to open your lips and you did just that, expecting his mouth to be on yours seconds later.
But, no.
Mitsuya could use and abuse you any way he wanted, and you would gladly accept just so you could cum and satisfy him.
What came between your lips was a trickle of his saliva and spit as his fingers rubbed your clit harder. Your walls clenching around nothing and your juices beginning to leak through the edges of the panties.
— Cum on my fingers and I'll give you as many kisses as you want, pretty. I want you to make a complete mess, got it? — He looked at you suggestively and you swallowed his saliva before began to push hips against his fingers.
Just a little more pressure from Mitsuya's digits. Just a little more, more, more.
Your head didn't seem to be able to think straight anymore, belly seemed to be floating and one of your hands was now squeezing Takashi's wrist as a way to keep the rest of his palm still, just his fingers abusing and rubbing your sensitive, swollen heap of nerves.
His mouth latched onto your neck leaving biting and sucking back and that was the last straw for you to be completely crumbling against the bottom of your panties. The fabric getting completely wet according to how much more your pussy squirted, your body trembling from head to toe and head falling back in pure pleasure.
Oh, what a salacious expression, better than the porn magazines and videos Mitsuya regularly consumed on the internet. The cameras scattered around his atelier were obviously filming absolutely everything.
Including the desperate and eager way in which that perverted boy kissed you and pressed the panties against your folds to get more of your juices. No drop was to be wasted.
His other hand latched onto the back of your neck as the kiss deepened even more and yours, on the other hand, fell on the belt and zipper of his pants to lower them along with his underwear and finally touch the slightly curved upward shaft of his cock. It felt too hot, almost soft in contact with your palm. And Mitsuya couldn't help but moan against your mouth and roll his eyes upwards, your hands were a hundred times better than the fleshlights he used to use when accessing hentai sites.
Between gasps, Takashi whispered a "Raw?" to you and you desperately nodded before getting rid of your own panties and hooking legs around his hips to have his dick rubbing against your sensitive folds.
He didn't have any kind of breeding kink or anything related to impregnation. Yet.
This absolute truth permeating his head seemed to dissolve as soon as the tip of his dick entered your pussy and he had to control the sound of his own moans.
— So fucking tight, fuck-mhm! — Mitsuya grinned widely before dropping his head back and staring directly into one of the hidden cameras in the atelier.
The way your walls squeezed his cock looking like they wanted to push it out immediately or swallow it desperately would definitely be stuck like burning coals in his memory.
And you, on the other hand, felt like you were about to cum again just by having him widen your walls and start fucking you like he had been waiting too long to do it.
Your expressions were different from the actresses in the pornography that Takashi watched. They were better, more vivid, more obscene, more tasting. He found himself wanting to fuck you deeper and deeper just so he could see more of your eyes rolling up and mouth opening in a slurred moan or a sly gasp as if you were being fucked into oblivion.
But, in fact, you were. Your brain could barely think, mouth couldn't project anything other than a nickname given to Mitsuya or sounds you thought you couldn't reproduce if you weren't a porn actress, inner walls looking like they were begging to be used until they were shaped like the large cock of the man in front of you.
Takashi's hand wrapped around your neck and applied a little pressure and, as soon as his cock felt you tighten even more, a mischievous smile appeared on his lips. How cute that you tried to pull in more air as his fingers squeezed even tighter.
— Mhm, that's how you like it, isn't it? Nice, harsh, deep, how cute. — Mitsuya whispered and bit his lips as he listened to you moan 'Tsuya for the hundredth time, you sounded like a slut in heat and he loved every second of it. — You can feel me deep in your tummy, can't you? Wanna feel my cum inside you too? I can fill you to overflowing and get you addicted to the sensation ‘til ya come crawling back to get some of my cum inside you, doesn't that sound good?
You didn't have to answer anything at all. Your body responded in the place by spasming and pushing you into another latent orgasm that hurt deep inside you. And while you squirmed and arched your back, Takashi never stopped fucking you and tightening fingers around your neck.
Maybe there were marks on your skin. Maybe you should start making excuses to your college friends about this.
But not now. Right now you were too busy feeling like you were about to pass out from lack of oxygen to your brain and lungs. Just watching you roll eyes dangerously, Mitsuya gave a quick thrust inside your pussy and finally spurted his hot, thick cum directly into your womb. You couldn't even tell if you moaned his name at the same time he did the same with yours because of the overstimulation or of the delicious feeling of having his white spurts pressing against your walls.
And then your body collapsed partially lying on Takashi's table, and his, eventually did the same sitting on the floor just as your legs came off his hips. Takashi's eyes glazed over at the way your tight little entrance was expelling his white cream, it was even better than watching creampie videos on PornHub.
Before he could stop himself, his hands moved your thighs a little further apart and his face slipped between your legs so his tongue could start licking between your folds and the somewhat salty taste of the gushing liquid inside your cunt entered his papillae.
It was not arousing to lick cum from a girl's pussy. At least, Mitsuya would not admit that it was. But you know what was? Watching you try to push him away because of overstimulation, but not being able to complete the action because of fatigue.
— Uh? What are you doing, pretty? — He asked against your folds before massaging your inner thighs and licking lips as he finished ingesting his own cum. — I'm just helping you.
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ㅤ🏷 tagging: @festive @bontensucker @wakasa-wifey @dukina @manjiroscum @inu1gf @manjiken @rqnslut @manjirosdoll @satmitsuplanet @ravenina14 @saaraunicorn @eriskaitto .
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