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#i was worried people would lose interest if i post the way i want to which was keeping me from writing it altogether
paimonial-rage · 1 year
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alhaitham analysis
When you first meet Alhaitham, he comes across as someone that has a negative EQ. He's curt, rude, and critical. And yet the truth is surprising? Like looking at his character quest and how he basically emotionally manipulated the whole hive into revolting, this man is very emotionally intelligent. You can honestly see it in a lot of his lines too. When he speaks about people, yes, he may sound like he's simplifying or trivializing things too much, but he's not wrong. He understands people. He knows how they work. It's just that he views emotional labor as too much of a hassle majority of the time.
Spoilers below the cut
You can gather a lot about Alhaitham through Kaveh's character stories. Like while it may not seem like it, Alhaitham is genuinely trying to help Kaveh. He points out to Kaveh that the source of his problems isn't luck, but his sense of impractical idealism and inescapable guilt. Some may say Alhaitham lacked tact when saying this, but it was kindness on Alhaitham's part. Once someone can acknowledge the truth, no matter how hurtful, they can then make the needed changes for the better. When they met up again years later, Alhaitham asked him, "How has realizing your ideals gone for you?" This wasn't done out of a sense of pettiness, but to solidify the truth once more. It was to help.
I think if you don't know someone that operates in this way, Alhaitham's love language may be difficult to decipher. His words may seem cruel. It may seem like he's trivializing your problems. But to speak truth is to show that you're not a lost cause. He has proven he won't abandon you along the way. After all, to speak truth, no matter how hurtful, is to show love.
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pomefioredove · 5 months
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having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
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𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
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cringe-but-proud · 30 days
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I am currently OBSESSED with X-Men (thanks Deadpool and Wolverine). And I’m even more obsessed with Kurt Wagner. So, enjoy some headcanons of him. Or don’t. Idc.
Kurt Wagner x gn!reader headcanons
A/n: Hey, freaks. I’m back again. I wrote this at 1 a.m so some of these might get a little silly. Hope you enjoy. Requests are open 🧚‍♀️
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Before relationship:
Super touchy with everyone, I feel like we’ve all accepted this as canon. But, if he’s interested in you romantically he’ll be a bit shy about showing physical affection
Like, 100% that doesn’t stop him from hugging you whenever he’s excited or whatever. But, afterwards he’ll pull away, laugh, and give you a meek little “Sorry”
Very worried that he might somehow fumble so hard that you end up hating him
Like, he’ll make you drop your food or something and then worries for the next two days about how you might not like him anymore because of it (meanwhile you probably forgot it even happened lol)
Overall, just afraid of losing you. Like, he’s so scared to make any kind of move on you because what if you don’t like him that way? Now you don’t even wanna be his friend and it’s all his fault!
That being said, if you start giving him hints or signals, he’s probably gonna over analyze all of it.
Tell him you love spending time with him, and he’ll be spending a good 30 minutes just going over any and everything you possibly could’ve meant when saying that.
Be patient with him he’s not used to people being interested in him romantically.
During Relationship:
You tell him about all of the signals you hurled at him that he completely missed and he gets so embarrassed
Sorry, had to get that one out of the way cause I think it’s funny
He loves getting words of affirmation from you. Promoted or unprompted.
If you guys are just chilling and out of nowhere you’re like “You’re such a good boyfriend, Kurt ☺️” Bro, he’s about to get too excited and start doing backflips (/hj)
I fear he would ask “Would you still love me if i was a worm?” Like, in the middle of the night too when you’re both on the verge of passing out.
Loves cuddling. I won’t get too into it because I kinda wanna make a separate post just for cuddling hcs. But, I will say that he doesn’t really care how you guys are cuddling. As long as you’re both comfortable and as long as he gets to be touching you, he’s a happy little guy
He probably thanks God for blessing him with you at least once a day while praying
I feel like he’s the type to tell strangers about you. Whether you’re there or not, doesn’t matter. He just wants people to know that he’s in love and that he has to most lovely partner he could ever hope for ❤️❤️
Ok, I need to go to bed now. Goodnight, Kurt Wagner nation.
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✧Night Moths
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✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)
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Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.
You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.
You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.
And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.
You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity. 
Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.
You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.
The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.
You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick? 
In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even. 
Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.
You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.
You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?
From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.
You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.
"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"
A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.
You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.
His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.
What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.
He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused.  Another stone-like feature of him.
He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.
"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.
"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.
"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.
"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.
"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke. 
You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.
"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.
"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio. 
You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently.  His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman. 
Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.
When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.
"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.
Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.
"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.
"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.
"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."
"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"
"Go ahead."
"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."
Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.
"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.
"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open. 
Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.
In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.
"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."
"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.
Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.
"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.
"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.
He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.
"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..." 
You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…
He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.
A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.
You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased. 
"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.
It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.
Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.
"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.
 There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.
"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."
You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.
"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.
"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."
This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.
Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.
"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did. 
You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.
"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"
He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.
Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.
"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.
You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.
He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.
But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.
Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.
Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.
Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.
He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion. 
Pure, raw lust.
"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.
You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-
"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.
A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained,  amused smile.
"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.
It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.
Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.
"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.
"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.
Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.
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Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking. 
This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.
He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit. 
On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.
Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside. 
He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.
The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.
He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.
On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.
The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts. 
He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times. 
Nothing new. 
Nothing puzzling, like you had been.
As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.
Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.
The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.
You.
He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes. 
You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.
"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.
You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.
"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."
Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.
"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.
"Hell no."
"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."
"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."
Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.
This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.
He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights. 
How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.
He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.
He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.
He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.
"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.
You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.
Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?
He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.
Shit!
He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless... 
Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints. 
It was your black shawl.
Tilting his head up, he found you.
You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.
Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing. 
Damned party, damned suit, damned you. 
He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast. 
He would catch you, dead or alive.
In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.
"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"
You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.
Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.
Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething
you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.
By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.
You stayed in the air for a few seconds.
You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.
You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-
A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you. 
Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted. 
You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.
"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.
You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.
Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.
A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.
He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.
You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.
The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.
The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t. 
He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.
Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.
He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing. 
The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.
The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare. 
“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.
You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.
“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.
“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.
A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.
“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.
He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.
You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.
You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.
"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it. 
The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.
The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.
His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.
You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.
Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.
Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.
For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.
By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.
"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.
He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.
“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy. 
The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.
You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him. 
Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.
Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.
You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…
“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.
“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.
It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you. 
“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”
He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.
Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.
He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible. 
You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.
Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.
He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.
"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. 
You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.
"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction. 
He positioned himself in front of your entrance.
You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.
He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey. 
He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.
He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear. 
"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"
Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go. 
Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.
Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it. 
He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.
It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.
"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.
"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!" 
His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.
True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment. 
If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.
The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.
You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.
You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.
“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”
Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.
His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.
"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.
"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.
For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.
And that’s how you felt. Boneless.
Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.
He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.
He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.
He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress. 
It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless. 
A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget. 
He didn't want you to forget.
He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.
Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.
"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.
You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him. 
Like a condemnation.
"You won't." 
Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.
"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.
The fucking papers.
A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.
Shit!
He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.
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tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.
I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱
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Solo Leveling Brainrots
Fellow Jinwoo Simps I need your thoughts and opinion!! Also MASSIVE brainrot warning!!!
QUESTION: How do you think Jinwoo would react to his partner questioning his taste in lovers? (ie. Being interested in Reader themselves)
How id imagine the confession would go: Jinwoo, pre-awakening: I like you *holds bouquet of flowers Reader, confused: um! *looks around to see if he's talking to someone behind them before pointing at themselves confused*... me? Jinwoo: Yes, You. Reader, Shocked: oh! Um... I like you too... but *hesitates* are you sure? About me??
The feeling is mutual!!! It's just his lover doesn't have alot of confidence in themselves. Or any confidence into getting a romance with anyone, let alone Jinwoo!! Reader feels like they have ZERO RIZZ (reader has enough rizz to woo Jinwoo so...).
Like would he hype them up???? Mayhaps but in subtle ways though I'd imagine🤔🤔. You think he'd be extra affectionate when reader gets shy??? Would this differ pre and post awakening?? (I imagine Jinwoo and reader wouldn't want the relationship public due to safety since hes a hunter and all)
AND WHAT ABOUT HIS POST AWAKENING GLOWUP AND THE FANS!!! READERS ALREADY SHY BUT THE TABLOID EVENTUALLY CHIPS AT THE SLOWLY BUILT CONFIDENCE JINWOO HELPED BUILD.
OHMYGOSH WHAT ABOUT THE TABLOIDS WITH CHA HAE-IN???? WOULD HE GET WORRIED SINCE READER MIGHT GET INSECURE OR JUST KINDA SAD???
WHAT IF READER TELLS HIM THAT HE DESERVES BETTER, BELIVJNG THAT READWR DOESNT DESERVE HIS LOVE?? AAAA OUCHHHH.. I GUESS HE HAS TO STAY WITH READER AND REMIND THEM OF HIS UNWAVERING LOVE WITH CUDDLES AND QUALITY TIME DJBDBFIDN
(reader is Jinwoo's ride-or-die, the monarch of his heart and soul, the love reader gives him is like comfort of warm soup at the end of the day, the kind that soothes even the deepest of wounds. Reader's love is also a drug, one that he cant get enough of. If he loses reader, Jinwoo would go insane.)
AUDBUDBDIBD HOLY!!!! WOULD HE GET PISSED ABOUT IT AND ENDS UP GETTING CLINGY IF CRAZY SHIPPERS TRYING TO PUT READER IN DANGER IE. SENDING A MONSTER READER'S WAY BECAUSE OF THEM BEING A "THREAT" TO THEIR SHIP (HIM AND CHA HAE-IN)??? I MEAN LIKE GUIDE THE MONSTER SPECIFICALLY AWAY FROM THE DUNGEON TO READERS LOCATION TOO. (TO THE EXTENT THAT ITS CLEARLY FOUL PLAY)
LIKE THANK THE MONARCHS THAT READER HAD SHADOWS ASSIGNED AND MAYBE WAS DECENTLY RANKED AFTER AWAKENING BUT IT COULD HAVE ENDED AWFUL IF THE FATES WERENT ON READERS SIDE!!
WOULD HIS ARMY GET PROTECTIVE TOO?? IGRIS??? BERU??? LIKE HOW DARE THESE FOOLS HARM THEIR MONARCHS BELOVED?!?!?!? 😡😡EVEN WORSE IS IF READER WORMED THEIR WAY INTI THEIR HEARTS BY GENUINELY GETTING TO KNOW THEM SO ITS PERSONAL NOW TOO!!
Reader has to calm down not only a PISSED jinwoo but his Shadows too (mainly Jinwoo though)!! And maybe being the only reason Jinwoo hadn't gone on a rampage after everything setted. Was he bribed with a heated makout session and plenty of cuddles afterwards to temper his rage and soothe his anxiety, yes. Did it work??? Probably. If it did??That's none of our buisness.
Id imagie Cha Hae-in would feel bad™ if they found out about Jinwoo and reader (just assuming the two being best friends)?? Being like "oh shit someone, a civilian no less, almost died because of her fans" Even worse if later on she learns that they're together aaaaa
But like seriously, what a messed up reminder of the power S-Rank Hunter have on the media. Yes, they know about their celebrity status affecting what they can or can't do but like this??? A whole different level, because yes, people targeting other?? Awful? Yes, but its fine. Using a MONSTER FROM A DUNGEON to target a CIVILIAN?? This is a whole new level of messed up.
Would the other S-ranks and National-ranked hunters feel like kinda bad too once they hear about it??
what the fuck??? For the following reasons:
No one deserves that
Its a civilian going against fans that are most likely hunters, the very individuals hunters are ment to protect from monsters ever since the dungeons appeared
THE HUNTERS USED A HIGH RANKED MONSTER TO TARGET A CIVILIAN (the mutual enemy internationally)
this was all done because PEOPLE BEING ENTITLMENT OF THE RELATIONSHIPS OF THE S-RANK HUNTERS.
This is furthur solidified and makes the WHOLE DEBACHLE worse because only EXPERIENCED hunters would have the knowledge and experince to be able to lure a monster from a dungeon break to a specific location, especially if reader wasn't even near the dungeon in the first place.
(For anyone who's read this all the way, thanks for reading my silly thoughts!)
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hyunniesgirl · 10 months
Text
Another Love | Part 2
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 5,302
Warnings: a bit of angst
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
>> Masterlist <<
A/N: hello!! I'm really happy about the feedback I got on the first part, I got sick and stressed because of work that's why it took me a bit long to post this part, I'll try and be faster for the next ones. Spoiler: things will get more interesting on the next part.
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Han couldn't sleep, couldn't eat or even function properly since the day you left, it was so strange not having you around. He wakes up, gets to work, the boys make him eat something, they practice, then they eat something again because they know he's going home to starve himself in his pit of misery, then he gets home, takes a shower and goes to sleep.
He's always anxious, too afraid of losing you, every time he looks at his phone he's scared that a message from you will come saying you don't want to be near him anymore, saying you are not coming back.
He really wishes he could like you back, why wouldn't he? You're pretty, smart and funny. But he just never thought about you in that way, he's not sure why. You were always just his best friend, the one person that encouraged him to do the crazy things he wanted, the one person that got his back when things didn't work out, the first one he told when he passed the audition to be a trainee.
When he saw you at the party he was happy to see you smiling with other people, he was usually the one making you laugh but it made him relieved to see you were okay even if it was not with him.
It hurt so much when you ran away from him, he was already feeling bad but that made everything worse. So he drank more and more until he wasn't feeling anything anymore.
He saw the guy you were hanging out with, he was with his friends and you were nowhere to be found and even though he knew you didn't want to talk to him he went after you.
He found you outside, seated on the floor probably getting some fresh air or waiting for Hannah.
When you saw him he wished he didn't go after you at all. Everything happened so fast that he almost didn't manage to hold you before you walked past him running away again.
Han just couldn't let you leave like that, he was that desperate. He wanted to make you stay no matter what and he hurt you once more.
Was he even a good friend at this point? How many times can you possibly hurt someone and still be called a friend? He felt like trash waking up in the morning and remembering everything.
Chan insisted on coming home with him, he was feeling too guilty and too tired to protest, so he let his friend crash on the sofa.
Since Chan was there, Jisung should have expected a full breakfast when he got to the kitchen. Eggs, bacon and toast were waiting for him, but he didn't feel like eating.
"I feel awful, do you think I should go there and apologize to her?" Han asks and Chan shakes his head.
"She needs time, that's all you can give her now"
Han sighs, his anxiety going through the ceiling. He's lost, not sure if it's possible for things to go back to the way it was.
He could tell how worried you got when you saw him at the party, he knows too well the face you make when you want to scold him for not taking care of himself. So he spent the next week trying to get back on his feet, he doesn't want you feeling bad, he wants you to think the least about him so you can get over him soon enough.
So much happened during this time you were not with him, they finished their album and were going to Japan in two weeks. He wanted to show you their music, their new concept, the outfits, you always loved to see the clothes they would wear. You probably already know all of this, since you're living with Seungmin but he wanted to be the one showing you so he could see you smile and feel your support.
>><<
The group had gone to Japan, that included Seungmin, so he asked Hannah to stay with you in his apartment while he was away. It's nice spending so much time with her, there is this boy in her communication class she is absolutely sure will match perfectly with you, even though you already told her you don't want to deceive anyone, the thing with Heeseung made you feel bad enough. You know she's insisting on it because she cares about you, but you don't want to start a new relationship already on the wrong foot.
"I'm sure he's great, but I won't be going out with other people until I feel like I'll be able to get over Jisung"
"And when is that?" She asks frustrated, "I know a lifelong crush won't go away in a month but don't you think you have to meet other people and open up?"
You sigh, you just don't want to hurt anyone during your process of healing.
"If I find someone I like, I'll go out with them, alright? But don't set me up with random people"
She huffs, nodding, that's better than nothing.
Since Han is away, you take the opportunity and go to your apartment. You need some books, you have been borrowing Hannah's in an attempt to avoid going there to pick up yours.
There's nothing different in the house, you don't know if you should feel glad or sad about that. Although your life is turned upside down, things are still the same. You are sure you just need a little more time, things will get better soon.
You know that, because it didn't hurt as much as you thought going back to your apartment, you expected it would be much worse. Maybe it's because he's not there? That could be it but you have hope that the overall pain is gone, that it's not going to be so bad when you see him again.
Of course, as Hannah said, a lifelong love won't go away in a month, nor in two or five months, you're not sure even a year is enough but you can't wait until then, he's still your best friend and you miss him like crazy.
You're going to come back home when you're sure you let go of these feelings. Yes, it's going to be hard being with him but it's harder to stay away from your best friend.
So when you feel like you're finally open to meet new people without comparing them to Jisung and not feel like you're tricking them, when you feel like you can like someone else without feeling guilty, that's when you'll know you are starting to get over Han.
You take some clothes out of your wardrobe and put them in the bag with your books. Hannah is coming to pick you up since Seungmin let you use his car while he's away.
"Are you moving, ma'am?" Hannah asks, seeing your huge bag.
"A girl needs to be prepared", you answer and she laughs.
"Do you want some coffee?", you hum in agreement while turning on the radio.
You feel like it's finally peaceful in your head.
>><<
It's been some time since you visited your family, your parents call you every week to check on you and Jisung but when the holidays come you two have to go back home.
That's how you ended up in the car with him, it's not a long trip since you're going just outside of Seoul but it's still awkward.
This is the first time you're seeing each other after the party. The whole trip it seems like Han wants to say something, but he doesn't, he keeps stealing glances at you, opening his mouth and then closing again like he just thought it better to stay in silence.
"For fucks sake, just say what you want to say", you tell him minutes before your arrival at your family’s home.
He flinches, looking at you with puppy eyes.
"I wanted to apologize, about the whole thing at the party", he clears his throat, fidgeting in his seat.
You stare at him for a few seconds. Even though it hurts, the whole situation is less painful then you thought it would be.
When you received the call from your parents telling you to come home with Han on the weekend you couldn't say no, you don't want them to know about all the drama and before you could make up some excuse about Han's schedule they told you he already had agreed to go.
You exchanged messages with him, setting up the time for him to pick you up at Seungmin's place and you dreaded every minute of every day thinking about the moment you would have to face Jisung again.
When you got into his car, you felt uncomfortable. You made some small talk and left at that, hoping he wouldn't keep trying to talk. It's been two months since you confessed, maybe your heart is already accepting the fact that you and your best friend are just that, friends.
Of course it still hurts, you're not sure how you're going to feel seeing him with a girlfriend, but you hope it'll only get easier from now on.
"It's okay", you say. "You were drunk, let's not think too much about it"
"But I hurt you, again", he sighs, looking at you with a frown on his face.
"Yeah, you did", you sigh, "but you're my best friend and you apologized, I'm not going to hold that against you"
He parks the car, but doesn't make any movement to get out. Jisung is staring at his hands, holding the wheel.
"You're too soft on me", he mumbles.
"I know", you smile sadly, "it's just how things are between us", you open your door urging him to get out. You already can imagine your mothers making a fuss about why you stayed so long inside the car instead of going inside.
Your parents come out while you're going through the gate, your mom has a bright smile on her face and is waiting to give you a hug. It's good to be in her embrace again, her warmth makes you feel like everything will be okay.
"You lost so much weight, aren't you taking care of her?" Han's mother scolds him while giving you a hug and feeling you out.
"It's my fault, school is just crazy right now", you tell her, hugging her back.
"Nonetheless, you should eat", she looks back at your mother, "let's double the side dishes we packed for them", and your mom nods, going back inside with her best friend.
You take a deep breath, receiving a sympathetic smile from Han before he goes into the house. It's going to be a long day.
The lunch is somewhat calm, other than the dozens of questions your families ask to you two. About college, about living by yourselves, about Han's trips, how you stay alone and how that's dangerous, they ask about everything like they don't talk to you every week.
"I forgot the ice cream", your father says, slapping the palm of his hand onto his forehead and you can already predict the scolding he's going to receive from your mother. So you jump on your feet, offering to go to the convenience store to buy some.
"Go with her", Han's father says and he nods.
You wish he didn't, it's suffocating being so close to your best friends while still uncertain of your circumstances, but if you say you don't want to, they are going to ask why and having to explain that is going to be worse than spending the day with Jisung.
You walk quietly, looking at the houses on the street. Everything is still the same, other than some renovations made to the old houses there's nothing new. The convenience store is a ten minute walk away from your house. It's good walking a bit after eating so much, the thing you miss the most about living with your parents is your mother's food.
"Which flavor?" Jisung asks while looking into the freezer.
"My mom likes strawberry and yours like chocolate, let's take both", he nods.
"Oh my god, y/n and Jisung?" You hear that damn voice you can't forget even after almost 10 years.
You put on your best smile and turn around slowly.
"Hi, Haneul", you say, poking Han with your elbow, he's still focused on choosing ice cream.
"Oh, hey", he nods at Haneul, closing the freezer.
She eyes you two up and down and smiles.
"Are you finally dating?" She squeals and you can tell she's just being mean.
"No", you answer before Jisung can even open his mouth, he glances at you with a frown.
"I'm sorry, y/n, it seems not every teenage crush works out", she pouts, smiling even more now that she got what she wanted.
You watch as she turns around, walking more deep into the store and you grab the ice creams from Han's hands, going to the cashier to pay for it.
Haneul hated you ever since Jisung dragged you to go on their date in middle school, it's not your fault but you always guessed she blamed you for things not working out with him.
You want to cry, not because you're sad but because you feel humiliated. It's so frustrating knowing that everyone has always known about your feelings for Han, it's even worse to think one day a lot of your school classmates are going to see his wedding pictures with you as the third wheel as always and think of how much of a loser you're.
"How did she know about that?" He asks when you get out of the store.
"I don't think I did a good job at hiding my feelings", you shrug.
Han stops on his tracks, you only realize that after giving a few steps and you look back to see him staring at you with a confused face.
"Was I the only one that didn't know?" He asks and you sigh, you're not really in the mood to have this conversation.
"Our parents probably don't know either", you say and he huffs.
"I'm not joking, y/n! Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"What difference would it make if you knew?" You yell, finally losing it. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes, but you won't cry, you were finally feeling a bit better and you're not going to waste another tear on this one sided love.
"Things could have been different, I could have been more careful, I could have told you to-"
He stops mid sentence knowing he shouldn't finish the sentence, but it's already too late.
"Would you have told me to move on?" You scoff, looking around to avoid the tears. "It's not that easy Jisung, this is not the same love you felt in your relationships that lasted three months", you know you're just being mean now, but you can't control it, not with all the hurt you're feeling. "I've been in love with you for years, don't you think I was afraid of that? Of you telling me that years of me pining over you were worth nothing?"
You turn around, "tell our parents that I met someone from high school and I'll be back later", you don't give him time to say anything back before you walk away.
After a few minutes, you feel the tears running down your face. At least you avoided crying in front of him.
Why does it have to be so hard? Why can't you just forget about him already? This process is taking too long and too much of your energy.
You sit in the park, wiping your tears and looking at the children playing. Everything was easier when you were at that age, you had no worries other than if it would rain the day you would go play with your friends outside or which present to give your parents on their birthday.
You look at your phone, answering your messages, your mother sent you a text telling you to not stay out too late but you don't think you'll be able to go back and stay in the same room as Han right now.
"Y/n?" You hear a strangely familiar voice, you look up and see a handsome man walking towards you. You're sure you know his face, but you just can't remember who it is.
He sees your frown and laughs.
"Jeongho? From middle school", he tells you and your eyes widen.
"Oh my god, Jeongho! How are you?" You ask and he smiles, he grew up really well. He's much taller now but he's still as handsome.
"I'm doing well, what about you?" He asks, sitting by your side, "are you visiting your family?"
"I'm great", you smile and nod, "yeah, Jisung and I came to visit"
What are the odds of you meeting Haneul and Jeongho of all people right after you confessed to Han? The universe really must be playing with you.
"I heard that you are living in Japan", you continue.
"Yeah, I came here just for the holiday", he explains, "actually, I come by pretty often to Korea", he clears his throat, looking at you. "Are you and Jisung a thing now?" He asks and you smile painfully, why must you answer this question twice in a day?
"No, still just friends", you tell and he smiles.
He nods, mumbling 'ah'.
"And… by any chance are you single?" He asks and you nod, feeling embarrassed. "Well, that's good news for me", he says, receiving a confused look from you while handing you his phone, "mind giving me your number? I'd like to keep in contact with you"
"Oh", you stare at the device for a moment, trying to process what he's saying. Is he interested in you?
"It's okay if you don't want to", he chuckles, "I'm just shooting my shot, knowing you're not with Jisung"
You laugh, releasing the air you didn't even notice you were holding.
"Yeah, sure", you type your number and give it back to him.
He stares at you with a satisfied smile before getting up.
"I have to go now, my family is waiting for me, but I'll text you", he says, flashing a smile and waving goodbye to you.
That was certainly unexpected, you would have never imagined you would meet Jeongho and he would still be interested in you. That lightens up your mood a bit, maybe this time you'll make the right choice and choose the person that likes you back.
You and Han don't share a word on your trip back, you don't want to talk to him and he seems too deep in his thoughts to say anything to you.
You finally can breathe when you get to Seungmin's, he's waiting with Hannah, beer and food, all you needed after this hell of a day.
>><<
You are in a lilac long dress, your friends are all seated in the first row. The church is full of people, some you know, some you're not so sure. You're happy, feeling your heart beat fast and butterflies on your stomach. Jisung is looking directly at you, he smiles with a proud look on his face.
However, before you can step closer to him, a loud piano sound starts playing and after a few seconds you recognize the wedding march. People stand up but they are not looking at you, neither is Han, they are all looking at the church doors where a beautiful woman is entering in a long white dress, a child walks in front of her, throwing roses in her path. The familiar round full cheeks make your stomach sink, why does that child look so much like Han? He doesn't have a younger sibling.
Then, it all sinks in, you're not the bride. Of course not, he's marrying another woman, a beautiful one at that. He's building his life and forming a family and you're just there on the sidelines. The bride steps in front of him and gives you her bouquet, smiling kindly at you.
You open your eyes abruptly, your chest is going up and down at a fast pace and your breathing is heavy, you're soaked in sweat. It was all a dream, a nightmare.
You sit on the sofa, feeling sore, all your muscles are tense. You can't believe you actually dreamt about something like that, your fear of always being there watching your best friend have his own life while still in love with him is taking over, even though you're trying to get over him.
It's two in the morning and you can't go back to sleep. It's better to take a shower and maybe go for a walk to calm your nerves.
The warm bath helps make you relax, but the memories from your dream keeps coming up on your mind again and again.
You text the only person who is probably still awake at this time and your phone buzzes seconds after your message is sent.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of being contacted by my most beautiful friend?” Chan's voice sounds on the other side of the line.
You chuckle.
“I knew you would be awake”, you tell him, fidgeting with your feet while trying to explain what's happening to him without humiliating yourself.
“I had a pretty bad nightmare and wanted to take a walk, maybe eat something? I don't know”, you whisper the last part and Chan sighs, he can tell you're not feeling well.
“Sure, I wanted to take a break anyway”, he says even though he's full of work to do.
You meet at a convenience store nearby, Chan's apartment is not far from Seungmin's since they can't live far away from each other, everyone lives close. You and Jisung did too- cursed man, coming back through your mind even though you're trying to think of anything but him.
“So”, Chan says, taking you out of your thoughts, “Jisungie told me you had a bit of an argument”, he tells you carefully, resting his elbows on the table you two are seated while he holds the beer can.
You sigh, of course he would tell Chan.
“Yeah, we just met someone from middle school during our trip and it ended up like that”, you explain after swallowing a mouthful of the hot spice ramen you have in your hands.
“I know things are not easy right now, for you or for him”, he says carefully, “but you're best friends, you have to communicate and talk things through”
“I guess”, you sigh. It's not easy to talk about Jisung, more so after the dream you had. You thought the worst part was already over, that you were finally getting over him. But it turns out it's not just willingness that makes things happen.
You wake up to your phone buzzing, you look at the time it's almost noon. You look through your messages and can't help but smile, Jeongho has been messaging you everyday since the last time you saw him. It's nice having this kind of attention, he's handsome and nice, maybe it's time for you to open your heart to someone else. The nightmare you had really terrified you, just thinking about it makes your head hurt and your chest ache.
Jeongho: good morning
Jeongho: I'll be in Korea next week, maybe we could have dinner together?
You: morning
You: yeah, that would be great!
You decide to give this a chance, it's not like it is going to kill you and Jeongho is well aware about your longing feelings for Jisung.
You're dressed in a red dress, feeling a bit uncomfortable, formal attire is not your usual outfit choice, but Jeongho set the date in a really fancy restaurant that you're not used to.
Of course you went to fancy restaurants before, the boys took you out often to celebrate their awards and new comebacks but since you always insisted on paying for your meals, they usually went to fancy but still affordable places.
Jisung always offered to pay for your meals, but you never accepted. If he did, you were afraid you would look too much like a couple and your heart might make you even more delusional.
“Good evening, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks and you look around, trying to find your date.
“Hm, hi. I'm here to meet a person, Kang Jeongho?” You eye the list on the counter to try and see if his name is there.
“Yes, mr. Kang is waiting”, he tells you, “may I take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the long cover you have over you.
“Ah, yes”, you say, taking the piece and giving it to him.
The man gestures for you to follow and you walk behind him to the second floor. Jeongho is waiting at a table close to the window, he's looking at the view that you can see now it's marvelous.
“Mr. Kang”, the receptionist says and Jeongho turns around, giving you a big bright smile while standing up.
“Thank you”, he tells the man who nods at you and walks back to the first floor. “You look beautiful”, he tells you, pulling the chair so you can sit.
“Thank you, I didn't even know there was a second floor in this restaurant”, you say while watching him take his seat.
“Yes, they only open it on special occasions”, he says and you frown, looking around.
“You mean, they opened it so we could eat here?”
He nods, chuckling to your terrified face.
“What are you, the president’s son?” You joke, nervously, suddenly feeling absolutely out of place and underdressed.
“Not at all, you know my father and he's far away from politics”, he jokes back, “I’m friends with the son of the owner, he owed me one so I just asked for a favor”, he shrugs.
You look dumbfounded, who is this guy? Surely not the same teenager that looked absolutely heartbroken when you rejected him in middle school.
“What did you do for him to go to such lengths to pay you back?” You ask, curious.
“I introduced him to his wife”, he smiles, “he's madly in love with her, so this was nothing to how grateful he is to me”
“Oh”, you nod. That must be nice, having someone madly in love with you.
The waiter interrupts your interrogation to ask for your orders, you have no idea what to choose, but Jeongho explains to you each dish, asking if you would like something more spicy, salty or sweet and telling which one he thought you'd like better based on your answers.
“You know, you were my first crush”, Jeongho blurts out after the waiter takes the plates back to the kitchen. You feel your whole face hot, looking at him with wide eyes, “I'm sorry, I just thought you should know”, he smiles and you notice he has some deep dimples in his cheeks.
“I thought you asked me out in middle school because you lost a bet or something”, you put your hands to your cheeks, trying to ease the redness.
“I think you never gave yourself enough credit”, he points out, leaning his face on his hand while watching you. “You were always too focused on Jisung to actually see that I was not the only one looking at you with heart eyes”
You smile sheepishly, you knew your crush on your best friend was going to come up in the conversation at some point, but now that it did you don't know how to talk about it.
“Well, I found out not long ago that I was not as good as I thought at hiding my feelings”, you tell him, “apparently everyone knew that I liked my best friend—except him”
“Am I right to presume that you still have those feelings?” He asks slyly, your heart is beating fast, what if you tell him the truth and he says he doesn't want to see you anymore?
“Actually-”, you sigh, “I'm trying to get over them at the moment”
It's better he knows the truth, so he can enter this aware of your standing.
“Well, that's more than I expected”, he chuckles and you look at him confused, “I thought you were still hang up on him”
“I actually confessed”, you're feeling a bit more confident after his reaction, “and I was rejected, so I don't think there's much for me to hang on anymore”
“So, I'm sorry if I'm being too straightforward- but could I be greedy and believe I have a chance?” He asks and you're sure his eyes are wavering a bit, is he nervous? Did you actually make someone feel that way because of you?
“Yes”, you tell him, biting back a smile and blushing, he smiles at you sighing in relief.
He stands up and reaches his hand out to you.
“Then, shall we take a walk? I have a long way to make you fall for me”, he bites his bottom lip, waiting for you to take his hand.
This is it, the first step for you to get over Han Jisung.
Han sees Lia's lips move but he can't actually hear what she's saying, every word you said the last time, keeps sounding on his mind like a bloody curse.
What would he have done if he had known sooner? Would he have liked you back? Surely not, after all these years he didn't feel anything romantically related towards you, but that may be because he never thought about you in that way. Would he have told you to move on?
"Are you listening?" Jisung hears Lia say and snaps out of his thoughts.
"Yes, of course", he lies, giving her a slight smile and grabbing her hand to squeeze it.
"You're just… acting strange, since you came back from your parent’s house", she frowns.
"It's nothing, I just… had an argument with y/n and now she's mad at me", he tells a half truth.
"I'm sure she's going to forgive you", Lia says, sympathetically, "you're best friends after all"
Han nods, sighing.
He had avoided telling her the whole situation with you, it could make her insecure since you two live together.
There's something different too, he just doesn't feel the same way about her anymore, the burning flame and excitement he felt when they first started going out is slowly dying down and he just doesn't know what to do anymore.
All his previous relationships ended up because he was too busy, or because his personality didn't actually match with the other person, sometimes the girl he was dating just felt uncomfortable about his friendship with you, but he couldn't end years of friendship because he was dating so he ended the relationship.
However, Lia is different. She's great and confident, she doesn't care that he lives with you because she trusts him. She's calm, her personality is nice, she's nice. So why? Why is he feeling like this suddenly? Why is he wavering when it comes to starting this new relationship?
When he gets to practice after a weekend of resting, he is still confused, however, he's trying his best to stay focused on their new album, music is the only thing he is sure of in his life right now.
It's half past the time practice should start and Seungmin is not there yet, after one more song he asks Bangchan about it, he's starting to get worried, what if something happened to you?
“Oh, don't worry about it, he's just interviewing his roommate prospect”, Chan answers.
Han freezes. Then, that means you're going back home?
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
Taglist(I won't be tagging people without age in their profile or blank blogs in my content)
@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @seungminsapuppy @starsandrqindrops @its-hannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98
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End Game 7
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: hump day, wooooo.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden. 
As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night. 
You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both. 
"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?" 
She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that." 
You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah." 
"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family." 
"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side. 
"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?" 
You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock." 
You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.  
"He sent them flowers," she says. 
You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did." 
"Fancy. Expensive." 
You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.  
"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya." 
"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye. 
"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost." 
You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.  
"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be." 
"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you." 
"Grandma--" 
"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie. 
You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away. 
"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen. 
You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side? 
You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have. 
🎮
For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you. 
“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.” 
As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow. 
“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk. 
“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.” 
You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop. 
“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile. 
“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.” 
“Oh, alright,” you agree. 
He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands. 
“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks. 
You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face. 
“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap. 
“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--” 
You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all. 
“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.” 
You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.” 
“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands. 
“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.” 
He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.” 
“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out. 
“I know it won’t,” he says. 
You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No. 
“Sorry, I gotta let you go.” 
“What? It’s my first complaint--” 
“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.” 
“Please, Luis, I need this job--” 
“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’ 
“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.” 
You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right? 
🎮
You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition. 
Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it. 
As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life. 
How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts. 
You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town. 
You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy. 
You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually. 
You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future. 
What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight. 
Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back. 
You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”  
“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.” 
“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?” 
“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...” 
“That’s... why would they--” 
“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.” 
“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going. 
“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects. 
“One second, I’m just on the phone with--” 
“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.” 
The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you. 
You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.  
Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you. 
You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.  
Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now. 
“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl. 
“I can help your friend,” he says. 
You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity. 
“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--” 
“Fine,” you snip and hang up. 
You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that. 
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gietterbug · 1 month
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Spy x Family Code: White - Highlights
*This post contains spoilers. Scroll away if you still need to watch the movie. **Reposted because it didn't show in the tags.
Since the movie is out and has been circulating on the internet, I would like to talk one thing or two about it. I'm overjoyed about the release and have watched the movie numerous times. So here are some highlighted scenes, or at least the ones that have become my favorites and lingered in my mind for way too long.
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First off, this scene. It's just a small gesture of Loid because apparently he's worried about Yor's mouth due to the "irritating" lipstick she's wearing.
But tell me, what kind of man would give a woman such a pleasant little gift if he did NOT love her. It's not like, "You're nothing to me. Here's a new lipstick for you!"
Loid is not going to declare "I LOVE YOU" explicitly; the hell is he going to, but we have eyes, and we see. Your small gesture and little gift say everything I need to hear, and I won't take your for the mission excuse anymore, Loid Forger.
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I'm fully aware that the "Yor getting jealous" trope is becoming redundant nowadays. Some people say they're overdoing it and no longer find it interesting to talk about. But I beg to differ. I'm still on the Yor's jealousy bandwagon because it's become a crucial element in her and Loid's relationship. Yor does not necessarily have the right to get jealous and upset about the idea that there is someone else in Loid's heart. Heck, I dare say she can't pull out the "wifey" card because we know it's all fake.
But that's not that.
For me, to say that Yor is jealous there might be another woman in Loid's life is an understatement. It's not to say she is being greedy, but she does want Loid, and only him, not just because she's technically his wife—her genuine feelings for him are growing, and we can see that. She does not want to lose him, let alone to be out of the picture. It's Yor being true to herself. It's Yor fighting for her love and affection for Loid.
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Extras:
Yor's heart is already shaken at the possibility of Loid cheating. And HE does not help by throwing such flattery and complimentary comments about his wife. This dense man…
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I liked what Anya did in this scene.
Afraid of her family falling apart, she tried everything she could to prevent that, and that is... through her parents' flirting 😏
She's still a little kiddo, but being the telepath that she is, she still wants her family to stay intact. Anya pushing Loid and Yor together to have some kissy-kissy time never gets old, to be honest. I always enjoy it every time she does that. Anya recollecting what Becky said about divorce and the "supposedly" bloodbath also added some comedic sense to the scene.
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This has got to be my #1 favorite.
The only physical intimacy in this scene is just Loid putting his hand on top of Yor's. Nothing more. Okay, we may have moved past that episode where LoidTwilight pulled a honeytrap on Yor, AND we can't dismiss the fact that maybe, there's a definite chance that he just used her.
But this time, he is determined to keep Yor around for real. He even restated his granade proposal to stick with each other—basically their wedding vows—and had no intention to break that promise. What's this smell? It's a whiff of peak romance.
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This scene made me feel warm and fuzzy.
What came to my mind when I was watching this scene was that although Twilight is the best and most renowned spy there is, he's still lacking some things. One of them is, for sure, parenting, which we saw from the earlier episodes of the series, he picked it up from books.
Yor always plays along with Anya to keep her entertained, and it's also one of her ways of parenting that some people may have dismissed. Yor arguably does better in this field than Twilight from her own experiences, the big chunks of which were from when she raised little Yuri. This should eliminate the questionable discourse of Yor "unfitting" for the mother role.
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This scene got extended to when Yor told Loid that it was a family trip, that Anya was looking forward to this trip, and that they all should go together.
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This may be the last for now: the Forgers walking hand in hand at the end.
I couldn't imagine the hardships this family went through throughout this movie. (Ok, I know some were absurd, but let's move past them for the sake of this post.) Despite being a fake family, they still came as one and worked hard together to put things back in their place and resolve all the problems. Like... they didn't have to do that; their family is a pretend. But they did. They're complete, and it's so beautiful to see ❤
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atthebell · 5 months
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ok back from work as promised I think one of the most interesting parts of qcellbit’s character we get from the fuga backstory is we basically meet him post redemption arc. you have a character that did horrible things in the past that took steps to reconcile with the people he hurt and become a better person. and then you start the story there, and from there, the narrative asks what would it take to push him back to that person he used to be. It’s such an interesting way to set up your character, and it only gets more interesting when despite every hardship he goes through it turns out he can’t go back to being that person. that’s what I think a lot of people missed during the federation murders arc (due to all the blood. who can blame them really), the cell persona was just that, a persona. it was a tactical move to push away the people he cared about in an effort to protect them from the consequences of his actions. even with his mental health at rock bottom he was in his own way STILL trying to help other people. everything we’ve seen has shown that nothing short of losing everyone he cares about could push him over that edge, and yet there’s nothing he could ever do to make him trust himself not to. it’s enough to drive me to madness
YES yeah i think it's so interesting how like fuga as just a jokey incidental backstory to explain how tazercraft, felps, & cellbit know each other already ends up working so so well for qcellbit as a character and makes his narrative so interesting (and shows how great cc!cellbit is at roleplay). like yeah he was an awful cannibal murderer-- but when we meet him, he's just some guy who's a little too obsessed with puzzles and mysteries and a little on edge. he's a paranoid catboy with trauma, what's there to worry about?? but then we get to the eggs disappearing and the fed worker killings and you're SPOT ON with how he slips on his past like a suit of armor. none of that progress matters now, nothing of his life after that violence is important, look at the blood, look at the gruesome bodies, look at the messages and the big scary knife. but it's all an act, both for his loved ones & the other islanders & the federation. he wants them all to think he's lost it, that he's gone off the deep end and nothing can stop him, that losing his one thread to normalcy (richarlyson) broke him and reverted him back to f!cell. but that's not what happened-- it was a strategic, knowledgeable move from someone who knows himself and knows what would scare the people around him. the other islanders don't agree with his complete opposition to the federation, so he shows how far he's willing to go; the federation thinks he's compliant, so he shows them what he's willing to do to them to get what he wants, to show them that he's not under their thumb. and in the process he gets to shove aside all his own feelings and put on this version of himself, this monster that he thinks has been hiding inside all along, who can deal with it all and do what needs to be done. and we get to see the kinds of wounds that are still open that he's never really been able to heal from, and know that the cellbit we knew at the start wasn't really ever okay, even if he wasn't the man he was during fuga. that the therapy and the time and the freedom from prison still couldn't fix everything he has going on, that he has a lot to uncover and look into and heal from. i'm so glad you get the tactical side of the persona thing though i felt crazy at the time of the fed worker murders being like people he is doing this ON PURPOSE he's not reverting to anything!!!!! this is a strategic move to scare people and make himself into a target!!!!
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apas-95 · 25 days
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I want you to take this as politely as possible, I genuinely mean no criticism
I understand that siding with Imperial Core ‘Leftist’ Progressives is painful, but I think that if we want to make any real progress for Palestine, we’re going to have to unfortunately suck it up and hold our noses
I do also think that it’s a good idea to try and alienate them as little as possible, to try and sway them over to actual leftist thought
My worry is that by continuing to hurt their feelings, however deserved it may be, we’re going end up with dozens of people thinking ‘Marxism bad, the online ones were mean to me :(‘
I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your opinion, maybe my way of thinking isn’t working here
Unite with real friends to fight real enemies - alliances should be made on the basis of common concrete goals in the concrete situation, not on the basis of any sort of theoretical agreement or disagreement over principles.
In our practice as communists, if we share a common interest with non-Marxist groups, we will happily work together towards that common interest. A national united front against imperialist invasion, for instance, is carried out arm in arm with the national borgeoisie. On the other hand, those same bourgeois organs become real enemies once they and ourselves inevitably come into conflict. Should a 'left' group that supposes to work towards the same aims as ourselves actually be hindering our goals, actually be behaving in a reactionary manner, we would similarly come into conflict with them.
Crucially, here, we must make two points: firstly, this is a matter of practice. This is relevant to the actual practice of a proletarian class organ, a proletarian vanguard party - there is no such thing as individual practice or individual policy, and, outside the context or an organised revolutionary party, all discussion is immaterial. Secondly, our theoretical understanding must never be sacrificed for the sake of temporary alliances. Even during an alliance, we can never cease our critique of our class enemies, we can never abandon our line. If we make a united front with the national bourgeoisie against imperialist invasion, we cannot for even a moment abandon the workers those bourgeoisie exploit, or we completely lose the basis of our strength, which is our genuine representation of the interests of the workers and revolutionary masses.
To be short: we only care about concrete, material reasons for any alliance; we never abandon our own line for the sake of others; and the actions of individual, disorganised people have no meaningful effect, politically. If there is a common enemy, communist parties will eagerly ally with non-Marxist progressives, but will not pretend they are anything other than what they are - and random people posting online aren't a political force in and of themselves, and their personal 'alliances' don't matter.
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soft-pine · 2 months
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i saw a post on here a while ago which was like "i think it's more interesting if john wasn't just abusive. like if sometimes he was nice and fun. took them to movies and stuff. it's more complex. it's more real."
but the thing is - that's still abuse. in fact, the abuse is all of it. it's abandoning them for weeks alone in motels, it's taking them to wrestling matches, it's making them call him sir, it's taking dean fishing, it's teaching them to hustle pool for money, it's sharing a beer with pre-teen dean, it's angrily throwing away food dean cooked, it's stealing them a christmas wreath made out of beer cans, it's teaching a six-grader to make a sawed-off shotgun, it's teaching dean how to fix up the car, it's leaving dean in a boys home for stealing bread and peanut butter.
i'm worried about the way fandom sometimes loses the fact that, of course, john was sometimes fun, sometimes kind, sometimes present. very few people are wholly one way all the time. and it's clear from the ways dean talks about john (and the way john talks) that one of the main ways john's abuse worked was hope. hope that things would get better. yes, that once they found what killed mary, they could go back to having a life. but also on a smaller scale, don't you think each time john came home dean hoped he wouldn't leave again? don't you think each time john sent dean away, john said if dean did better it wouldn't happen again. don't you think that there were moments rolling down some two lane with the windows down and the radio on and them all singing along and dean hoped it could feel like that forever?
abuse really rarely is tonally consistent.
john winchester is a fascinating, complex, sometimes even sympathetic character. i don't think he had evil intentions. i think he wanted things to be better for his kids than he felt like he could make them. i hate him with my whole soul. and there is no argument based on canon that can reasonably conclude he was anything but abusive.
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eldritch-nightmare · 7 months
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slashers with hanahaki.
a/n: icb this took me like 2 months to finish omg anyways hanahaki is not a trope i personally enjoy but i like writing angst and i think it's an interesting concept and this is. honestly just an excuse to write amanda angst, actually. uhm. first post about slashers :thumbs up: might take time for me to get used to writing them tbh, so this might be short but!! i hope you enjoy it all nonetheless. ignore how long ethan's is. amanda comes with her own special bot so <3 enjoy tht if u use it.
includes: amanda young, quinn bailey, tiffany valentine, billy loomis, bo sinclair, and ethan landry.
warnings: gn!reader, angst, many mentions of vomit and coughing, blood, implied unrequited love (esp in bo's), randomly assigned flowers plucked out of my flower book.
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AMANDA YOUNG
If there's one thing about Amanda that isn't hard to miss, it's the fact that she gets very jealous, very easily. It was obvious in the way she almost constantly glared at Lynn whenever the woman was in her line of sight, the way she held no kindness in her voice whenever the two were forced to speak to each other.
Well... it was obvious to John, at least. Even in the state that he was in, the man was nothing if not observant, and he certainly didn't miss the way Amanda's gaze would linger on you and Lynn. He didn't miss the way she would come up with random things for you to do, things that involved you keeping a distance from Lynn.
What John isn't aware of, however, is the fact that each time Amanda goes off alone, it's to cough and vomit up the flowers blooming inside of her. She loves you so much that she can't even be angry when she stares down at the bloodied petals of lavender in her hand as she gasps for breath.
This is her punishment, she thinks. It's her curse, one she'll keep to herself. She loves you, but she doesn't deserve you. If you get too close to her, if she shows that she cares for you, you'll die. They always do, and you're the one person she can't stand to lose.
So she'll keep this to herself. She'll diligently wash the blood off the petals in her hand and she'll put them with the rest, tucked away safely for no one but her to see. She'll let her love be a secret, even if her jealousy boils over.
QUINN BAILEY
Romance isn't something Quinn cares for. She's not interested in falling in love since it doesn't align with her goals of wanting to get revenge for her brother's murder. And you, the best friend of Samantha Carpenter, were meant to be another victim. The plan was to kill you in front of Sam, just to inflict a little extra trauma on her.
But that's not how things were turning out. The more time she spent with you, pretending to be friends with people she planned on killing, the more attached she was starting to become. It was small at first, something she could push aside at any given moment. But you just had to be nice to her.
With everything going on, everyone was always worrying over Sam or Tara, but during it all, you had pulled her to the side to ask how she was handling everything, asking if she was okay. And suddenly, it became harder to push those feelings aside, and camellia petals started forcing their way out of her throat whenever she coughed.
This didn't go unnoticed either, by her family or her 'friends', but she always brushed their concerns off. It's just a little cough, no big deal. But it wasn't. Your time to die was coming up, and Quinn was the one who was supposed to kill you. But now she's hesitating, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a way for you to get out of this alive without risking everything else.
She loves you, as much as she loathes to admit it. She doesn't want to be in love, especially knowing you'll never love her back once you find out who she truly is.
TIFFANY VALENTINE
Pretty much everyone who knows Tiffany knows about her feelings for you. It's not something she bothers to hide, and even she's surprised that you aren't aware of the love that she has for you. Or maybe you're just pretending like you're oblivious? She certainly hopes not.
Either way, the first time she coughs a flower up, she feels... well... she wasn't upset. In her eyes, it was further proof of how much she truly adored you. The petals of pansies that she coughed up were always tucked away in a jar. She probably has like... 4-5 jars full of petals by this point.
She doesn't blame you for any of this either. It's not your fault that she fell in love with you! How could she not? You're you. Anyone could love you. She'd kill them if they did, of course, but her point still stands.
Of course, she's not an idiot. She knows what this means. The constant pain in her throat and the feeling of vomiting up blood and flowers is nothing compared to the pain of knowing you more than likely don't love her back. But it's a pain she's willing to bear if it means having you in her life.
And Tiffany is just... fairly confident that given enough time and patience, you'll love her back, one day. She could (and probably should) give up on you, she knows that, but she doesn't want to. Not yet.
BILLY LOOMIS
Love is not something that comes easily for Billy. He's damn good at faking it, but he tends to disappear the moment he starts feeling like he actually might be growing to love someone. But loving you? It was as easy as breathing, he didn't even notice he had fallen until the roses started falling from his lips. How cliché.
He's really... torn, to be honest, for many reasons. This little illness of flowers could potentially get in the way of his plans, first and foremost. It makes it a lot harder pretending to love Sydney when he starts hacking up stupid fucking rose petals whenever he thinks about you. And god forbid if he has a coughing fit when he's doing Ghostface business.
It's a pain to hide, but Billy is nothing if not determined. Not even Stu knows, that's how badly he wants to keep this a secret. It's not something he plans on hiding forever, of course. Once he's killed Sydney, he'll... probably get around to doing something about the roses piling up in a random shoebox in his room.
The thought of killing you certainly crossed his mind, don't get him wrong. It would probably be much easier having you dead than leaving you alive and dealing with this, but the moment he even processed the thought, he was falling out of bed from the sheer force of the coughing fit that hit him. It's the most roses he's ever thrown up at once, so. He threw that thought out almost immediately.
But he'll definitely play it off and act as if he isn't painfully pining for you if you ever find out about this little predicament. He's too prideful, too hesitant to ever fully commit to a person. The roses bloodied roses in the beat-up box are the closest he'll ever get to confessing his love to you.
BO SINCLAIR
Bo knew letting you live would bite him in the ass one of these days, he just wasn't expecting it to be like this. He knew he had a bit of a soft spot for you, though he loathed to admit it, even when his brothers give him knowing looks.
You just looked so damn perfect, all scared with tears streaming down your face. How could he not want to keep you around a little longer? He just didn't actually expect himself to grow attached. It was supposed to be a sadistic game, a way for him to torture you. Instead, he was the one being tortured.
Tortured by these damn flowers he keeps coughing up. He had to ask Lester what they were, though he obviously didn't mention why. Nobody was going to know about this, not Lester, not Vincent, and certainly not you. This was going to stay between him, and the bloodied petals of honeysuckle that he keeps hidden in the gas station.
He knew well enough that this little problem wasn't just going to go away so easily. Don't get him wrong, if he could kill you, he would. The thought alone is enough to keep him locked in a room, throwing up flowers until he sees dots in his vision. So clearly, he can't. He's undeniably stuck with you now, whether he likes it or not.
What's worse is he'll never have your love. Why would he? You'd be a fool to ever fall in love with him after everything he has put you through. He'll only ever have your fear.
ETHAN LANDRY
He wholeheartedly did not expect to fall in love, especially with someone inside Tara and Sam's friend group. What's worse is that it wasn't a 'normal' way of falling in love either. No, you stole his heart the moment you stabbed him while he was under the mask, growling out a threat so cruel, so gruesome, he was definitely going to steal it in the future.
The wild look in your eyes was a stark contrast to how you usually behaved, and that excited him. Honestly, how could he not fall in love with you after that? With Ghostface, you were aggressive, almost animalistic in the way you would fight for your life. With Ethan, you were concerned for his safety, even if you did eye him with suspicion like everyone else.
The flowers were annoying though, he can't lie. It's not fun coughing up tulips, especially when he's under the mask. It also makes it harder to hide his identity. Ethan honestly doesn't seem like he'd hide his coughing fits from you because he'd probably thrive under your concern. That means that if he slips up and has one when assuming the Ghostface persona, his identity is basically revealed and it ruins everything he and his family have been working for.
He'll make up excuses as to why you can't be killed. You're not even that close to Tara or Sam. Honestly, he wouldn't consider you to be part of the friend group, so your death wouldn't have any impact on them. You've unintentionally helped them with their plans by being Ethan's alibi whenever it wasn't him under the mask, so killing you just wouldn't make sense. He's not exactly the best at hiding his feelings for you.
And Ethan is well aware that given his second identity, he'll never have a chance with you. The moment the inevitable unmasking happens, he'll lose any kindness you may hold for him. That thought alone is enough to make the tulips force their way out of his throat, but he won't lie... it's exciting to think about how you might react once it's revealed that he's Ghostface.
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bartonbones · 2 years
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im very excited for s2 of shadow and bone because i want to see the crows and also i'm dreading it because if i have to see another "book kaz would NEVER get his ass beat like that" post im going to stapling chapters to foreheads.
our FIRST pov chapter from kaz brekker begins with him saying "If you couldn't walk by yourself through Ketterdam after dark, then you might as well hang a sign that read "soft" around your neck and lie down for a beating." followed, not THREE PAGES LATER, by him, in fact, getting drugged in an alley and beat! the whole point of kaz, the reason why he's interesting, is because so much of his reputation and his strength is built on lies. he lets people believe that he's worse than he is, that he has no heart, that he feels nothing, because that's the only way he wins. the truth of it, the actual truth of the thing is that kaz is only as invulnerable as his mental state: the reason he gets beat in the books in his first pov chapter is becuase he's distracted by the trauma of his brother coming back as a ghost. the reason he gets beat in the show is becuase he's distracted by the trauma of pekka rollins.
what makes kaz compelling is that there is always this tension between the reputation and revenge he has fought so hard for and how close he is, at all times, to losing it. if the right person finds out about his vulnerabilities and figures out how to use them, then it's over for him and he knows that. you need to be able to represent that tension in kaz or he's literally not interesting!! people without vulnerabilities, who do not ever fail, who do not ever fall down, are not interesting!!!
the show needs to be able to represent that tension and that arc in kaz, and one of the ways it (and the book!) had introduced that to us is by first introducing the idea that here is this character who is fearsome, who is impervious, who is brutal and terrifying, and then, once you know all of that, saying, and here's what scares him. here's what you need to understand could take him down, here's why you need to worry about him, root for him, care about him!! it's like some people are so obsessed with this narrow image of kaz that they are willing to sacrifice good story telling to keep it. we need to see kaz lose battles or we aren't going to care when he wins wars!!!
there's a lot you could say about the changes they've chosen to make for the show, and some of them i agree with, but this "kaz would NEVER lose a fight, ever" motif just frustrates me so bad because it's just like. categorically false. it's in chapter 3. page 43 of the book. the first chapter we have to introduce us to kaz brekker. not only would he absolutely get his ass beat like that, it is a fundamental part of him as a character !
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ceilidho · 1 year
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you said you hc that the second someone slips past ghost's defences and worms their way onto his good side, he's all in. do you hc being possessive after that switch happens? 😳
oh absolutely, no question about it 🥰🥰
I feel like it's tied in to all the losses he's experienced in his life - when he's able to keep his distance, grief can flow over him. He doesn't have to lock onto it. Ghost is still human and any loss is going to have an affect on him (losing soldiers, people he might've been interested in in a better life, pets, etc), but he can skirt around the pain or avoid it altogether if he's not emotionally invested.
(some nsfw below; breeding kink)
But when someone's actually managed to work their way into his heart? It's game over. That's his person. I don't see him as someone who is overtly physical in his possessiveness (I see that for Soap for sure and maybe Price to an extent), but he'll stare down men that talk to you (or anyone he suspects is interested in you) and use his size as like a physical deterrent.
Also, I know a lot of people write Ghost as having commitment issues and I agree with that to an extent! I think pre him deciding that you're his person, he would be very commitment phobic. Would hardly tell you anything about himself, would turn tail and run if he thought you saw this thing as permanent, and would absolutely coldly put you in your place if you tried to ask more from him than he was willing to give.
But post deciding you're his person, I actually think he'd be very by the book. Obviously he can't get married, he doesn't 'exist' so to speak (ALTHOUGH...that's if the canon Ghost story is actually canon in this new 2022 universe...I don't 100% adhere to his comic book backstory because I feel like his 09 and 22 selves might actually have different histories, but that's besides the point), but he'd want other ways to lock you down while still ensuring your safety.
He'd be very reticent to have kids because it's precarious bringing a child into his world and he'd worry about putting them in danger, but he'd want to keep you somewhere safe and away from where you could be hurt. Like I absolutely see Ghost as wanting to be your provider - paying your rent, getting you whatever you need to be comfortable at home, maybe somehow convincing you to quit your job so you don't have to exert yourself as much. I don't think he'd like the idea of you being wholly self-sufficient/independent.
He'd at least be constantly thinking about getting you pregnant. It would be a deep desire of his for you to be swollen with his baby and a ring on your finger; a visual reminder for everyone to back off, without him having to say it or indulge in any public displays of affection.
He probably wouldn't mention it much at first, but deep into your relationship it's like 90% of his pillow/dirty talk lmao. He wouldn't be able to come without at least touching your belly at some point. Afterwards, he would just be tracing his finger around your bellybutton, staring wordlessly down at your stomach. Depending on if you're still using condoms or not, he wouldn't be able to resist pushing his spend back inside you :\\\\ maybe just the slightest bit regretful that he can't actually get you knocked up.
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partycatty · 9 months
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dilf!johnny cage > to heal
how it goes when reader dates older johnny following the loss of sonya
warnings: grief, age gap, mentions of sex but no smut written
notes: i want to gnaw on dilf johnny until he is nothing but bones. it is for that reason that this post is LONG. yappasaurus rex over here.
masterlist <3
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•first of all mk11 was so bad at covering the grief of a man losing the mother of his child
•then again that also implicates that johnny is really, really good at hiding his emotions, especially around the people he's meant to be stoic around. i wouldn't necessarily cry in front of a thunder god or cryomancer either. and i'd try to keep it together for my kid.
•regardless, johnny falls into a deep, DEEP depression that eats away at him. he should have been there on that mission. he should've canceled that ninja mime shooting and spent one more day with his family before it was completely wrecked. and he'll tell himself this every time he looks at cassie's empty eyes. he stays sober, for her, but god does he wish he could just feel nothing sometimes.
•johnny stays smiles and jokes, but as soon as he closes the door to his sleeping quarters, all he can do is blankly stare ahead. damn him and his acting skills. he wants people to check up on him, but it's just so... hard to express his pain.
•some time passes and he considers himself recovered, but every time he sees his daughter excel in training or lips smile in the way sonya's did... god.
•imagine his surprise when his own daughter asks him to get back into the dating scene. cassie says something along the lines of "you're a sad old fart that needs a woman to get him off of the couch."
•cassie's right, unfortunately. johnny let his stubble grow in and hair grow increasingly wild. he didn't carry himself as well as he once did, which was especially worrying to those who saw him as the confident, sharp, charismatic character.
•johnny declines to his daughter, finding the conversation kind of off-putting. but, on a late tuesday, he decides "fuck it" and sets up a bumble profile while sitting on the classic leather dad recliner in the living room. the one thing he forgot to do? set an age range.
•so he's a little taken aback when a 29 year old you is the third person he swiped to. instinctively, he thought to swipe left on you, but curiosity got the better of him. he read your profile and realized you sounded incredibly mature and had the same interests as him. covering his mouth and holding his phone with the other, he swipes... right, feeling an immediate intense guilt.
•he doubted you'd match with him, but as soon as he swipes, a big "IT'S A MATCH!" covers his phone screen and he lets out an audible gasp, tightening his grip on his face. he then gets a twinge of embarrassment for himself. was he seriously flipping his shit over his first match on a mobile dating app? yes.
•johnny spends a good long while staring at the screen, wondering if you'd even message him. after all, men couldn't message first on the app. what if she thinks he's too old? what if it was an accidental swipe? what if...
•NEW MESSAGE! "hiii :)" johnny swallows, afraid to open the message. what would he say? what should he say? does bumble have read receipts? would you notice he opened your message and stared for several minutes?
•he settles on "hello, how are you?" it's been a while since he's had to genuinely flirt with interest, so he opens cordially. johnny was a charmer for sure, but this time he was playing for keeps, not just for fun. he also, unlike his younger version he met some time ago, wants to take his time.
•you two chat back and forth, and while you acknowledge to him that he is indeed a celebrity (and how hilariously stupid it was that he was on a public dating site), you express no real concern over it. you mention to him that you want to see him as a man and not a character. the deeper conversation of dealing with the spotlight could come another time, as johnny didn't want to scare you away.
•you two text for a lot longer than most matches on bumble. johnny's honestly terrified of meeting up in person. he wants to be so incredibly sure that it's you he wants to meet up with. he forgot to keep swiping, even. he was so fixated on getting to know you. he felt weird talking to multiple women on the app, since he was so used to married life.
•he can't bring himself to ask you on a real date, so you two settle on a friendly coffee chat. he shaves, gets a trim, and for the first time in a long time, stresses about wearing the right things. he even calls cassie and asks if he should wear shirt A or shirt B, but was very keen on redacting your age from the conversation. that was something he was afraid to disclose to her.
•what was this man so afraid of?? you are a SWEETHEART. you're so incredibly mature, have more "vintage" interests and asked so many questions, leaning in to listen. johnny didn't feel the need to perform, in fact, he found himself... with butterflies. he death-gripped his coffee to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling.
•one coffee chat turns into two, and then three, four, and eventually, he feels okay enough to plan a real date. his heart was swelling with excitement, a new warmth in his chest. you were so effortlessly patient and kind with him, never asking for anything of him besides his time.
•he plans a dinner date, squeezing you two into a lavish restaurant that he wouldn't have been able to get into if he wasn't a celebrity. he didn't want to overwhelm you with his money and fame, but god did he want to do this right. even though the topic of money was something you never thought to consider with him, he still wanted to show off at least a little bit. it's just in his character!
•there, he starts to come out of his shell a bit more. he starts flirting back, and you two hold hands across the table, intense eye contact as you converse freely.
•johnny takes a sip of his drink, looking down. but when he looks back up, he notices you admiring him with your sweet young eyes. and it's here that he realizes just how much you've revitalized him. he springs out of bed with a smile. you're the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep. when he is with cassie, he can't stop thinking about how much you two would get along.
•which, by the way, johnny is so incredibly sure to remind you that he has a daughter that's your age. you pause and think, trying to articulate your thoughts on the awkward circumstance.
•"i understand that it may be a little uncomfortable for her and the last thing i want is to drive a wedge between you and your daughter. you speak highly of her and i deeply admire that. i perfectly understand that she comes before me."
•johnny stops himself from tearing up. you're... just so kind. you're perfect.
•after the ninth date, he decides that he's ready to go back to your place. it's a quaint apartment, and it's there that you both make the conscious decision to have sex.
•it's slow and sweet, he's murmuring praises into your bare skin as he takes his time exploring a new body. older johnny takes his time with sex unlike his younger days. he needs to appreciate your beauty, complimenting every feature on your body. you're so divine.
•"such a pretty girl..." he whisper-groans above you, strong hands holding your hips in place with a passionate firmness.
•over the next couple months, he's still working toward officially calling you his girlfriend. a new partner in his life scares him, even if you make all of that tension disappear when you're around. it's just a lot to ask of a man to take that new step again.
•biting the bullet, he asks you at your doorstep holding a cheesily large bouquet, having to glance over it to get a proper look at you. you smile sweetly, nodding and immediately accepting in that gentle voice. you knew how much this meant to him to make things official.
•cassie eventually gets the chance to meet you, as her father brings you along to a holiday party with the family. it's... it's a little weird, she won't lie. i mean, it's just weird in general to see your dad with someone that isn't your mom. that's something that naturally needs time to adjust to. and your age isn't something she can avoid discussing.
•she doesn't hate you. she actually finds you quite enjoyable to be around! she's just a little uneasy that you're her age. but, after a long, long talk full of tears and reassuring words, cassie realizes she can learn to accept you being with her dad. i mean, she sees what you do to him.
•that sparkle in his puppy-dog brown eyes is back, and he just can't stop being engulfed by your presence. a hand is always on the small of your back, a grin always plastered on his face, and eyes are always locked onto you when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. he's chirpier, and people even joke that he seems as active as he was in his younger years. you got the old man's rusty gears turnin'!
•he loves you. he didn't realize he could do that again.
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cloudysfluffs · 1 month
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If you’re accepting requests, I’d love to see any tk hcs you have for the pines family! No rush of course!
OF COURSE!!!!! havent written hcs in a while but i bet i can come up with some :3
PINES FAMILY TICKLE HCS UNDER THE CUT!!!! KINK/FETISH BLOGS DON'T TOUCH!!!!! HALF OF THEM ARE MINORS AND ALL OF THEM ARE RELATED!!!!! DONT MAKE IT WEIRD!!!!!
Dipper
definitely the biggest lee in the family i fear. he's canonically ticklish and i just KNOW no one lets him live it down. least of all his sister
his ribs are his main spot!!! BUT also since idk where else to mention this, all of the pines family also have a spot that they share!!! theyre all ticklish on their backs :3
my boyfriend picked his rib spot because he always wears that vest. he thinks itll protect him. it wont
squeaks a LOT, his laugh is very high-pitched. his family/friends like to poke him a lot because of the noises he makes
he is SO embarrassed about it but he actually does like being tickled!!!! but he will NEVER ask for it. ever. luckily mabel has very good insight and can always tell when hes in a mood
out of everyone, surprisingly, he might like sessions from stan the most!! stan isnt QUITE as good at reading him, but dipper has learned that intentionally getting on his nerves is a good way to get wrecked for it (ex: the 'stans tattoo' short? stan nearly tickled him to DEATH for that stunt)
so incredibly paranoid that someone might find out that he likes this. hes definitely the type to search 'tickle scene' on the family computer and FREAK OUT if anyone walks in
generally prefers sessions with people hes really close to/that he knows he can trust and they wont take advantage
Mabel
exact opposite of dipper. the families biggest ler!!!! and she is making it EVERYONES problem!!!!
completely shameless about finding tickling fun ("it's a game for kids!!! we're kids!!! relax!!!!")
if dipper ever starts acting paranoid or 'too-grown-up' she swoops in to the rescue to remind him that its OK to like silly, childish things!!!!
her and stan are a VERY DANGEROUS TEAM. they regularly form alliances to take down the other two twins. and they have yet to lose!!!!
kind of feared the day that dipper would 'grow out of' playing with her. but when ford came home she was a lot less worried, because him and stan never really grew out of it!!!
queen of cheer up tickles. her smile is very contagious
she will make jokes WHILE tickling you, just to be like 'wow, i must be really funny, if you're laughing so much!!' <3
she DOES have a lee side, and she's also completely shameless about that!! she just likes tickling other people more :3
Stan
have you noticed that hes like. almost never in gravity falls tk headcanon posts? unless hes specifically suggested? i have seen so many include dipper, mabel, ford, and just skip over him shjdkhsdfk. i dont understand why, hes got so much potential!!!!
anyway, second biggest ler of the family. and hes really only ranked below mabel because mabel is so SLIPPERY. she cannot be caught unless she WANTS to be. stans a little easier to take off guard
also much more shameless about it. takes literally every opportunity to tease his nephew in particular
i mentioned above that dipper tends to try to get on his nerves to get tickled for it, because stan doesnt seem to pick up on it otherwise. i should add that stan absolutely knows that hes doing that JUST to play with him. he knows dipper isnt just being annoying on purpose. and he respects it!!! because it means dipper is toughening up, and standing up to him!!! even if its for kind of a silly reason. he wont let dipper know he knows, though
hes also been interested in ticklng since he was young. him and ford BOTH were, seperately, and then they found out at the same time and were BOTH like 'YOU TOO??????? I THOUGHT I WAS THE WEIRD ONE'
hes got that boxer training, so if you try and start a fight with him and youre NOT mabel, youre gonna lose. hes REALLY good at pinning lees down
hes got like. one, single exception that he will willingly be lee for. but he will never tell you who it is. ("what are you, a cop?")
ford could, theoretically, beat him in a tk fight.....but he never does. :)
Ford
unpopular opinion i fear, but this man is a LEE!!!!!! my mind will not be changed!!!!!! biggest lee in the family, second only to dipper
"oh but he has six fingers! wouldnt that make him a great ler by default?" of course it would!!!! thats why its SO FUNNY thats he's a lee.
hes got 12 fingers in total. hes been fighting his way through the multiverse for thirty years, so hes TOUGH. muscular, with a lot of training. AND HES A LEE. he has so much potential and hes using NONE of it when it comes to this!!!!! do you guys see the vision
him and dipper bond over being the lees of the family. he has apologized for passing it down to his nephew in the past. meanwhile mabel and stan are chanting 'ALPHA TWIN! ALPHA TWIN!' in the other room
this man could fill journals JUST about the sessions he had in the multiverse
him and stan have been play-fighting since they were children, and he loses almost every single time. mostly because stan is a dirty cheater who will bring tickling into it without fail and thats all it takes for ford to crumble
the only person he was consistently winning tickle fights with, ever, was fiddleford, back when they were partners. AND EVEN THEN he still LOST, all the time!!!! and now he doesnt even stand a chance against mcgucket. much like mabel, he is simply too slippery
my favorite tickly dynamic with ford though is his one with bill. bill thinks tickling is SO entertaining!!! so back in the days of their partnership, sometimes theyd take a break from work just to have a session in the mindscape. LITERALLY fords 'dream sessions'. bill holds this over his head to this day. the chain scene, from weirdmageddon???? he has used that exact method in past sessions
HIS PALMS ARE TICKLISH. adding to the irony that his greatest asset as a ler is what makes him the best lee
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