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#if you stick around know what I say and my opinion when things happen
rwbyrg · 17 hours
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Another thing I had noticed was the way Ruby interreacts with everyone vs. how she interacts with Oscar. Like her mannerisms seem to change a bit when she speaks or is near him or she treats him differently from the others. Because personally I've never seen her act very nervous around the others when she met them versus how she met Oscar, and she still does it to this day. What do you think?
I am soooooo late to answering these asks and this got sooooo long aha. Thank you for your patience. 🙇‍♀️
I have noticed that Ruby acts markedly different around Oscar than the others! And in my opinion, it is done with a great deal of intention. The thing with RG is that a lot of what makes the ship so strong is how subtle its writing is. So much of it is paralleled themes and a lot of it relies on an absence of something that is usually present. Often treating the absence itself as a presence of something to be paid attention to.
When we first meet Ruby in V1, she says she gets along better with weapons than she does with people. (Lol isn't it funny that Oscar's name means "God's Spear" haha. surely that has no correlation whatsoever... anyway).
When Ruby meets Weiss, she gets screamed at and makes a dust bomb explode in the courtyard, but by V2 so many of their conflicts are resolved and they've become rivals/besties/team partners.
When Ruby meets Blake, she's got her foot in her mouth and is super awkward... until there's an opportunity to connect with her about stories and fairytales. Then we see Ruby's earnest side come out and the anxiety in her pretty much disappears.
When Ruby meets Jaune, it's remarkably not awkward. Their shared social awkwardness and feelings of not belonging at Beacon cancel each other out and they're able to have a fairly normal conversation.
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Very quickly through the early volumes, Ruby gets comfortable. As a leader, as part of her team, as a welcome part of their social circle. She's young, still optimistic and full of hope. She hasn't been given too much trauma or cause to question herself by that point. She has her moments, sure, but like a lot of kids that don't fit in much and aren't super social, she's actually really good at it once she's given the chance.
But when Ruby meets Oscar - while she has experienced some of the Horrors™ that have chipped away at her self confidence - she's not too different than usual. Not at first, anyway.
He comments on her eyes and she responds naturally by asking him who he is, she's able to be candid with her response when she's told he's carrying Oz around, and yeah she giggles a bit when they're all playing the 'getting to know you game', but she also smiles at him. Earnest, trying to make him feel at ease cause this situation is kind of weird for all of them. When they spar later, she's being a goofy kid. Sticking her tongue out at him, laughing while they throw and dodge punches, running to help him when he collapses, grabbing his wrist with very little hesitation to tug him towards the rest of the group. It's all fairly normal...
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...and then the Dojo Scene happens.
With the Dojo Scene, the narrative tone of their relationship is both established and changed. Ruby comes down the stairs and she's open, at first. But as they talk a bit more, her body language becomes more and more closed off the closer she gets to him. Clasping her hands in front of her when she asks a question about his past, then hugging herself as she dares to step a little closer to him, as if putting up some kind of protective barrier.
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She tries complimenting his efforts, laughing a bit to hide her nervousness, is fairly candid, and makes a bit of a joke. But the joke reveals a wound of hers that hasn't healed yet and opens the conversation up to vulnerability. A vulnerability that Oscar points out immediately. One she has not spoken to anyone else about up until that point.
"How do you handle all of this?"
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Ruby pauses. She's not used to talking to people about her problems. At first, I don't think she's even thinking about herself when he asks. She nudges him to clarify what he means and he opens up about his own fears, which prompts her routine song and dance that she gives to everyone. Uplifting words, holding onto hope, keep moving forward, just don't let the things that haunt you catch up and you'll be fine.
And Oscar doesn't accept it. He isn't moved by it. He's not comforted. He rejects it, questions it, and completely lashes out. Is actually angry that she's telling him to "just press on" in spite of those fears. Is angry on her behalf that she's not being honest about her own feelings.
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And Ruby cracks. She actually opens up and talks to Oscar about all the grief she keeps buried down and doesn't burden anyone with. She might have argued to herself that it was the only way to make Oscar feel better, but it's uncharacteristic for her. She doesn't usually have to go that deep to cheer other people up. When she tells him about her losses and motivations, Oscar joins her in that open doorway, in shared vulnerability... and the moment she sees an opportunity to retreat, she takes it. Not used to this closeness in the slightest.
From then on out they're still friends, clearly. Their bond strengthened, if anything... but Ruby does not know how to handle him when he has such a skill for seeing through her in ways no one else ever seems to catch onto. She's able to push it away a bit when he's pre-occupied with something else. When he's worried about the merge or his mistakes in Atlas, or they're in a group conversation, she's able to act with some sense of normalcy... but when they're alone that awkwardness comes creeping back.
When WBY confront Ruby about her decision to keep the truth from Ironwood, Yang specifically asks how Oscar feels about it, and we see Ruby falter. This is a direct parallel to Bumbleby circa V8 when Yang is the one worrying about Blake thinking less of her for her own decision. We've seen Ruby disagree with people before and remain confident in her choice... but she questions herself here because of how much she values Oscar's opinion. And their disagreement colours more of her interactions with him throughout V7.
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When they're all practicing in the academy training rooms, Oscar comments on her semblance. Asking if she's always been able to do that, which is something he wouldn't ask if he didn't pay close enough attention to be able to notice such differences. She's laughing awkwardly, scratching the back of her head.
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And the fumble, when they finally come back together with renewed trust - that I already dove into a bit over in this post - she's still doing it!!
She is so excited to talk to him again, to not be at odds, that she almost runs directly into his back and is all flailing arms, and awkward giggles as she tries to tell him she agrees with him. When they finally establish that they're on the same page, she's hugging herself tight, rubbing her arm, looking away from him in her nervousness. Even when she walks away she's hugging herself again. Meanwhile, Oscar is all open body language, hand on hip, hand extended to her, active listening and receptive to what she has to say.
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Interesting that this conversation's themes around choosing truth over fear calls back to the Dojo Scene so well, innit? 🤔
The last example I want to give isn't about Ruby. It's about Oscar. Throughout the show, he's always been a bit skittish, jumpy, and expressive with things like loud noises and - quite noticeably - touch. Oscar's been tackled to the ground by Nora in multiple hugs, tackled by the whole team in V6 after he went missing, scooped up by Jaune after he was kidnapped, and in all of those instances there has been a noticeable physical discomfort from him. Often a flinch or a wince beforehand, only relaxing into it after the surprise of the impact is over with.
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But Ruby has put her hand on Oscar's shoulder multiple times (outside the Dojo Scene) without eliciting that response from him. One of those touches made him blush, if anything. And when Oscar returns from Salem's prison, beaten and covered in bruises. Ruby is running to hug him and not only does he not flinch, he smiles with open arms, completely ready for and accepting of it. And then the narrative robbed him of the chance 😭
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Ruby, despite her usual confidence, resolve, and unwillingness to talk about her issues, becomes nervous, awkward, and self conscious around Oscar. The absence of her usual demeanor becomes the presence of how much she values what Oscar thinks of her and how vulnerable he's able to make her feel. (Which, for a character as emotionally guarded as Ruby, is a good thing).
Similarly, Oscar's established pattern of resisting physical touch - even when he's injured and probably sporting a few broken ribs - is absent with Ruby. It becomes a presence instead of his comfort, trust, and (desire for) closeness to her.
While these examples aren't exhaustive, generally speaking, the absences of their usual behaviours around one another become the presence of something unique to their relationship and often serve to highlight their attachments to each other. Be it how they interact with each other directly... or how they act when they're apart. But that, my friends, is an entirely different post and I have rambled long enough for today.
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persephoneflouwers · 11 months
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scuderiahoney · 6 months
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Stick Around
Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics
|Age 20|
“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.
You peer at him over the top of your magazine.
“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.
“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”
You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.
“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”
“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”
The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.
Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.
|Age 5|
It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.
“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”
Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”
He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.
“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”
“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.
She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”
She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.
Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.
|Age 10|
“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.
It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.
Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”
The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.
Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.
“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”
You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”
Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.
Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.
“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.
His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.
“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”
Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.
Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”
“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”
You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”
|Age 12|
“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.
She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.
She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”
“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”
She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”
You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”
She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”
You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”
“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”
|Age 15|
There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.
You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.
You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.
Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.
“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”
“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.
“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.
Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.
“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”
“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”
He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.
Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.
“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”
Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.
Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.
When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.
|Age 18|
Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.
Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.
You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.
You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?
You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.
Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.
“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.
She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.
“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”
“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.
“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.
Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…
You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.
Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.
You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.
|Age 21|
There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.
It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.
Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-
You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“
“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”
The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”
You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.
“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.
“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“
“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”
He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”
“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”
Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”
You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.
When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.
By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.
Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.
“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”
You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.
The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.
|Age 22|
Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.
In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.
You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.
The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.
For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.
Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.
The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.
You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.
In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.
You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.
Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.
You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”
“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.
You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.
You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.
“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.
“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.
“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-
But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.
“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”
When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.
…..
Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.
At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:
#16: He peels your oranges.
#16: childhood best friend??
#16: YOU JUST KNOW
little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!
3K notes · View notes
inf3ct3dd · 5 months
Text
streamer!ellie pt.2
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summary: i hated the other one of this that i made, so REMAKE TIEM!!!
warnings: miiinor sexual content, shit talking, gay people 😒
authors note: heheheh ples don’t flop this time..
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- during her faceless days, she opened up a po box so ppl could send her things, and she made an amazon wishlist and she unboxed stuff on stream 😍😍
- one day she was unboxing a giant box of cat toys. string, those little feather stick things, even that weird automatic flapping fish thing (that she secretly loves and taped to her back one time)
- she was playing with this one toy that was a little fishing reel, and it had string and a little fish on the bottom. she went on and onnn about how shes a self proclaimed “fishing master” while garf chased it around, letting out little meows and growls of frustration.
- eventually, she lost her grip and let go of the pole. she bent down to pick it up, forgetting that her face would be in view. thus, the chat started blowing up.
ewwwbruh: FACE REVEAL
ewwife: EW WE CAN SEE UR FACE
ewwife: JUST THE SIDE BUT WE CAN SEE YOUU
ewssidechick: her nose looks so rideable…
- she got distracted petting garfield, and didn’t realize anything until she stood up. she was getting tagged over and over again on twitter, blurry pictures of her face (curtesy of the shitty webcam) circulating through her subreddit.
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- “guys. im gonna erase this from ur memory…” and she literally held up this goofy ass hypnotizer pendelum and started fake hypnotizing everyone like “that never happenedddd” “you don’t know what i look likeeee” “that was fakeeee” “chat that was not reallll”
- and everyone literally js went along with it and pretended it never happened. like ppl were tweeting about it and everyone was like “huh??? what are u talking about bruh??”
- she did the same thing after falling off her rainbow unicorn scooter 😞
- one time she revealed that the “ew” in her username stood for her initials, and everyone was making the most horrendous guesses. elliam willace being the favorite one.
- “guys, my name is not edward wilson??? i am…not a man”
- shes gotten into so much drama…multiple notes app apologies have been issued via her instagram story.
- people would ask her opinions on other streamers, and she’d literally just be like “…i have no idea who that is.” and people would get so MADDDD but homegirl is literally just blatantly unaware
- or she would know , and would literally be like “they’re honestly super annoying and i would rather kill myself than watch them but whatever floats ur boat ig!”
- she played that “womp womp womp womppp” sound effect on her soundboard afterwards.
- SPEAKING OF. she abuses that soundboard sooo much. its so obnoxious and annoying like I SWEARRR!!! she’ll tell a horrible pun and play the crowd laughing and cheering sound effects while literally no one laughed.
“guys. whats the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament??”
“…live streaming.”
(crowd cheering sound effect)
“nooo thank you thank you, you’re all too kind, really!!”
- meanwhile chat was dead silent.
- every time she gets to choose her own name on a game its some dumb shit like "jizzmaster" or "chris fucker"
- “it appears you have entered innapropriate content.” “OHHH LOOK AT EPISODE LOOK AT THESE CORPORATE BIGWIGS TRYING TO CONTROL THE LITTLE MAN???”
- she just ended up naming him “chris phucker”
- like when she played episode on stream and made up really annoying voices for all the characters and made her character look like an elderly man, and made the love interest look like you 😍😍
- she messes up sm on games when she streams normally, but when you're there? she is LOCKED THE FUCK IN. sitting there so focused the entire time just to show off
- whenever she randomly goes silent she just starts SINGING. it's either nicki minaj or some fucking fnaf song
"IS THIS THE THANKS THAT I GET FOR PUTTING U BITCHES ON???"
- speaking of, her favorite fnaf song is def “stay calm” cuz she loves saying “hey kids. Nice to eat ya.”
- bought one of those "i paused my game to be here" tshirts…ironically. you refuse to let her wear it in public
- beefs w kids on fortnite sm... she has definitely gotten banned for saying she was gonna bomb a kids house or fuck their mom 😞
- every time she plays a game, she'll literally sit there and watch an 8 hour long video about the lore. she'll plop down on the couch and watch it like a movie
"did you know everyone actually thought that fnaf one took place in 1993, but it was actually 1992?"
- she definitely had you sit next to her when she played through fnaf because she was lowk scared the entire time whenever she heard you walking around the house while she was playing she'd hear footsteps in the hallway and be like. WHAT THE FUCKKK
-she'd have you right next to her, laying your head on her shoulder and messing with her free hand. if you fell asleep, she would be sitting there slapping her hand over her mouth whenever she gets jumpscared bc she doesn't want you to wake up 😞
- sometimes, while she streams , she plays one handed games and lets you sit and draw on her arm for fun. even got you a whole set of those skin markers so u could go ABSOLUTELY HAM. she got one drawing you did that said “r + e 4eva” tattooed in ur handwriting…such a sap
- she loves watching fan edits of herself...AND OF YOU. she'll be on her burner account with a whole collection on tiktok of edits of you.
ewwsbiggestfan: shes so bad i want her to hit me w her car...
- speaking of. imagine her using that account to make shitty capcut edits of you like
- shes ur biggest fan ongod
-WHILE WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF “fans”…what if i made a completely new origin story for streamer!ellie and reader. what if they were both streamers….
- OKAY SO BASICALLY.
- you had started streaming about a year before ellie did. butttt, you two did very different types of streaming.
- you weren’t very into like, SERIOUS video games. sure, you played some stuff, like animal crossing and roblox and the sims, but nothing more than that.
- that wasn’t what you were streaming though.
- ever since you were younger, you had been wayyyy into…literature.
-by literature i mean fanfiction. heaps of it.
- actors, anime characters, BOOK CHARACTERS, you were in DEEP
- sometimes, for fun, you used to read them out loud in stupid voices. when you were alone, or with your friends, it was very entertaining
- that’s when you got the idea to start streaming it. if it could entertain your friends, and you, whos to say it wouldn’t entertain other people.
- well, it definitely did. in your first year, you hit 10k followers. people loved you. theyd make edits of you, send in requests of fics for you to read, everything.
- a while later, ellie started gaining more and more popularity. out of all the incomes of fame, fanfiction was the most. abundant!
- one day, you got a request to read an ellie x reader fic. at the time, you barely had any idea who she was, but you decided to just go with it 🤞🏽
- “who the fuck is elliam willace???”
- the fanfic was definitely very…graphic!
- “your hips rolled onto her thigh, her slender, tattooed hand palming at your waist. ‘you’re doing so good babe, fuck.’-“ “GUYS. ISN’T SHE NOT ON MUTE RIGHT NOW???”
- you couldn’t help but giggle the rest of the fic, feeling a nagging heat in your core. you didn’t even know who the girl was, but if this fic was accurate, someone would have to sedate you.
-“im actually. gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. GUYS. who is this woman…is she real… if she is. things are about to get WICKED.”
- not very thankful to you at the moment, she was very real. apparently, you and her were streaming at the same time, and your followers raided her stream telling her she was reading about you. her curiosity was obviously piqued, and why would she NOT join the stream?
- creeperewman: im definitely real!
- the text on your screen literally made your stomach fall into your ass. you stood up and legit just walked out of the room, camera still on. was she there the whole time???
- creeperewman: aww 😞 where’d she go she’s so badddd
- you eventually returned after a minute of calming yourself down, and low and behold, she gifted you 100 subs and followed you on instagram.
- she was definitely very real!! and that fanfic was…lore accurate. to say the least 😊
- after you two started dating, the two of you would often show up on eachothers streams. ellie, teaching you how to play cod, and you, reading with her.
- she secretly loves reading the fics people write about her and making fun of them, and every time you stream with her shes “subtly” hinting that you should read about her
sitting there pulling on her collar, looking away like “gee, wonder who you’re gonna pick today” with the worst fake laugh ever.
- “ellie can barely ride a scooter, idk why she’s in the mafia rn…” “you fall off ONE TIME and all of a sudden you cant ride a scooter. bullshit.”
- she makes fun of all the dumb pet names like “babygirl” and “darling” and randomly calls you them and bursts out laughing
- you still read those fics when you’re bored sometimes. and ellie MERCILESSLY makes fun of you for it
“yknow, if you missed me that bad, you should’ve just told me.”
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polarisjisung · 2 months
Text
PETNAMES NCT DREAM WOULD USE
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pairings: nct dream x fem!reader
genre: fluff
wc: 0.7k
warnings: hopefully none
notes: this is a little shorter than usual but if you couldn't tell already I'm a sucker for petnames (if you think they're cringy you're just painfully single 😤) so I HAD to make this
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MARK — my girl/babe
now mark's a chill laid back guy, and he loves you like crazy but he also doesn't see any need in extravagant nicknames or petnames and he sticks to the classics, he probably won't address you by your name for the most part so he'll just stick to babe. sweet and simple
"that's my girl" is such a classic mark thing, he gets proud over the smallest things you do, he's like your personal cheerleader. It could be something so small as flipping an egg without breaking the yolk and mark would be ecstatic.
RENJUN — darling
nicknames are serious business for renjun, every now and then he'll call you babe but to him it feels too casual— most likely it'll be something very specific to your relationship and how you met but if not he loves darling, it feels the most endearing to him.
JENO — baby/angel/gorgeous
for the most part jeno will stick to baby, sometimes babe but in his softest moments he'll go for angel— it's unconscious really.
but to jeno you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, like his own personal angel— somehow you always know what to do/say when he's feeling down and he's never met someone like that before. you're unique and somehow everything you do feels perfect to jeno, he thinks your soul is so pure, you're his angel.
on occasion jeno will throw a quick but calculated "good morning gorgeous" your way— mainly because it has you absolutely falling apart to the point where you can't even form coherent sentences, but jeno thinks it's cute
HAECHAN — sunshine/sunflower/honey
you bring out the best in him, you're his motivation and you give him so much energy for performances and his idol life, especially when things get tough so calling you his sunshine just feels right to haechan.
haechan probably throws around a lot of nicknames with you, sometimes some a little too weird, but he knows it'll get you smiling
"hey snookums" he'd say casually as he enters the room
"are you talking to me hyuck?"
he'd nod eagerly and you can't help but giggle at his dorky smile
"I love you but please, never call me that again" best believe he'll stick to that nickname for the rest of the week
and of course every time he steps through the door, haechan has to announce "honey, I'm home" like hes in some american sitcom, as if you didn't see him pull up in the drive and hear his keys jingle as he unlocked the door— you love him either way
JAEMIN — princess/pretty
sure jaemin thinks he's a princess but you? you're like the princess of all princesses. plus jaemin feels the need to remind you of your worth day in and day out— you're a princess and so you deserve to be treated like one, given jaemin's practically a king at princess treatment, you'd consider it appropriate
jaemin thinks you're pretty no doubt. in some moments, especially when you don't quite share the same opinion, jaemin will be the first one to remind you, and if you're feeling down "hey pretty look at me" he'd say in that soft low tone of his that's so awfully comforting, with two hands on your shoulder before giving you the pep talk of a lifetime
CHENLE — babe/baby
chenle's not much of a petnames guy aside from a casual babe/baby here and there but you suppose that's what makes it all the more special when he does use them
he much prefers to have a nickname for you that's exclusive to him than using petnames, but if its something you're into he'll definitely try and step up his game, also if he gets teased by his members for calling you by your name
a jealous chenle uses all the petnames under the sun— anything to make it clear you're his girl
JISUNG — (my) love/beautiful
jisung is usually soft spoken but too shy to throw around "I love/like you's" without becoming a blushing mess so his favourite way to subtly remind you just how much you mean to him are through petnames. he truly thinks you're beautiful inside and out, so it's one of the first names he addresses you with.
he likes to switch it up, testing and seeing which ones your smile grows the widest at. he decides love feels right. after all, you were the person who taught him all about it.
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syrupgirl · 1 year
Text
Request:
Could u write a fic ab Sully family x y /n reader? Where she lives with the sully family after her parents died, she gets taken by the colonel in the forest and is set up for bate because he knows she important to the Sully family.
a/n: the way I interpreted this, reader is taken by herself rather than what happens in the film where all of the kids get taken. I did use the rough layout of the scene for inspo but it does diverge from cannon ie Neteyam is with the kids when they get discovered. I hope that’s similar enough to what you mean. also reader is na’vi and around Neteyam’s age :p
Sullys stick together -The Sully family
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“Catch me if you can!” Tuk yelled. Her little feet pattering along the branch of an enormous tree, while you and the rest of the Sully children chased her for sport.
She giggled delightedly, dodging out of the way of Lo’ak’s hand.
You really weren’t supposed to be out this far. Too close to the battlefield Jake had said. To close to where the sky people had already begun laying their claim on Pandora. Not if the Na’vi had anything to say about it.
But oh, it was such a beautiful day, almost no clouds in the sky, Kenten floated around you with the unfurled fan necks slowing their descent. Who wouldn’t want to get carried away with the day?
Suddenly, little Tuk ran into the trunk of a tree and startled back, falling on her butt. Kiri rushed forward and kneeled beside her, rubbing her back.
“Oh Tuk, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Kiri asked, ever the nurturer.
Tuk rubbed her nose and sniffed, tiny little tears blooming in her eyes. “Yeah, just got a fright, that’s all.”
Kiri helped the youngest sully stand up and continued to comfort her. Tuk reassured her sister that she was ok and Kiri relented. Tuk then wandered off to continue her little adventure.
“Wait, guys! Look!” Lo’ak whisper shouted.
Everyone looked to the direction he was pointing. Spider’s eyes widened and he even gasped a little.
“Wow, bro. That’s where my dad and your dad fought, right?” He asked Neteyam.
Neteyam didn’t answer right away, looking almost sheepish. “Yeah, bro.”
Lo’ak looked like he could barely keep still, a giddy grin upon his face.
“Well c’mon! Let’s have a look inside!” He was about to spring up when you put a firm hand on his shoulder.
“No way! We have no idea what’s in there, there could be some old tech still active, or…I don’t know, some angry beast!”
Despite not being a blood member of the Sulky family, after Jake and Neytiri took you under their wing and growing up with them for so long cemented your place among them as family. You were as much Neteyam’s sister as Tuktirey was.
Despite not being a blood member of the Sully family, they listened to you and cared about what you had to say, or that’s what you thought.
“That’s why we have our knives, skxawng.” And with that Lo’ak got you to sprint to the abandoned lab. Well, he would’ve had it not been for the tussling of the bushes opposite where you were all crouching.
“Sit down!” Neteyam gritted out, he grabbed his younger brother by the back of his neck and yanked him back down beside him. Lo’ak started to protest, talking about how it was probably some harmless animal. The sound of voices shut him down. Voices speaking in, english.
You were confused. Sky people should not have gotten this far out without drawing attention of the clan. Neteyam motioned for everyone to be still and you all watched on as the voices got closer.
Neteyam turned on his comms and started speaking to Jake. You could guess what he was saying; do not engage, retreat, stay low and out of sight. All very good suggestions in your opinion.
You kept your gaze intently to the direction of the voices, just waiting for them to pop out so you could get a good look at them and hopefully get some answers to your burning questions.
For better or for worse your questions were answered sooner than you thought.
Aside from the speaking english, the only thing that gave them away for being avatar and not Na’vi was the tactical gear. They were fully decked out. A few of them had arms decorated with tattoos and…sunglasses, Jake had called them.
They slowly approached the abandoned lab with guns raised and eyes everywhere. You all ducked down further once you realised you were way out of your league. Unarmed humans you might be able to handle. Armed humans, definitely more difficult but you had done it before, but avatar who were armed to the teeth along with the strength and speed of the na’vi made for a dangerous mix. You all watched as they searched through the building, overturning the insides of it.
“Come on, dad is on his way, he told us to fall back.” Neteyam’s urged all of you, gesturing into the forest behind him.
“What? No! This is our- my chance to prove to dad that I can help! I can be an asset to the people!”
Neteyam and Lo’ak continued to bicker when you noticed Kiri looking around, looking around desperately.
“Kiri?” you asked, “what’s wrong?”
The girl looked almost brought to tears when she looked up to you.
Her voice trembled, “Where is Tuk?”
Oh god.
She had disappeared before Lo’ak had picked up on the lab.
No one had seen her since.
Kiri clasped her hands around her mouth, she looked about as scared as you felt. God, little Tuktirey.
Abruptly, the group of avatars in front of you trained their guns on clump of trees of to your right. You had heard the sound too, a snap of a small branch or twig. Whatever had stepped on it was light.
Light enough to be Tuk.
The hostiles started to walk toward the noise. It’s like you were watching them in slow motion. Off to the side you could see Kiri’s eyes widen, horror flashed across her face. Spider had a similar expression, his eyebrows upturned in the centre. Lo’ak and Neteyam had stopped their fighting and just looked scared out of their own minds. Neteyam for once didn’t have a solution for everything.
So you did the only thing you could think of. A stupid, stupid thing looking back on it, a stupid thing parading itself as bravery. You scrunched your face, said a silent prayer to Eywa to deliver Tuk to safety and to give you strength for whatever was to happen.
You lept out from behind the log and dashed out of cover.
The avatars snapped their attention to you and raised their guns, but you kept charging towards them. Unsheathing the small knife you kept on you at all times, you cried out.
An avatar with short cropped hair on the top of his hair held out his hand and caught you around the neck. He didn’t hold you tight enough to strangle you, but tight enough that you couldn’t escape. He lifted you up into the air like you were fresh prey.
You struggled and snarled, trying to get your knife in any part of him that you could reach.
“Well, well, well, lookie here…” Quaritch chuckled darkly. He motioned for his squad to lowers their guns and the obeyed, observing their colonel with obvious amusement. It made you sick, you probably outwardly grimaced.
“I’ve seen you somewhere before.” He muttered. Quaritch made a show of ‘hmmm’ing and scratching his chin in fake thought. “Ah yes, i’ve seen your runnin’ around with the Sully spawn. You’ve been causin’ a lot of trouble, you and those other brats.”
You pretended not to understand him, opting to keep snapping and thrashing at him. It was not a complete lie; while Jake had taught you some basic english, you could probably only form the sentences of a small human child.
“The thing looks feral…” A teammate muttered from behind the colonel and the squad laughed.
“Don’t be fooled, soldier. These Na’vi can be quite clever when they put their heads together.” The colonel responded.
Thinking of your family behind you, you hoped and prayed that they had retreated back with Tuktirey.
Quaritch lowered you to the ground but before you tried to make a break for it, he wove his fingers through your hair and pulled hard.
You bit your teeth to stifle a scream and reached up to attempt to pry his hand off of your head.
“I know that there’s more of you back there, in the tree line, so you behave and my team will leave them be.” Fear flooded you at that, hearing that this man knew you weren’t alone. With a snap of his fingers he could have you all held hostages. So you stilled. You rested your hands back at your sides and begrudgingly set your gaze on him.
The avatar holding you smiled.
“Children o’ Sully! You listen here,” he spoke in english before switching into what seemed to be pretty broken na’vi, “you tell your father to come here, and this girl will be returned unharmed in exchange for his compliance.”
At least he didn’t know Neteyam had already been in contact with both Jake and Neytiri. If they just pretended to leave, Jake and Neytiri would think of a plan. Like they always do.
The bushes where everyone was hiding rustled. Quaritch tensed and the avatars behind you raised their guns once more, but the bushes stilled, no other came from it.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You hoped that they had gone back home or at least taken Tuk back.
“Alright everyone, I’m guessing we can expect Jake Sully and his mate getting here pretty soon.” He drawled, turning to face his team. “Get ready for an attack. Be on your guard and keep your new eyes and ears sharp.”
-
Jake and Neytiri quietly dismounted their Ikran and armed themselves. Neytiri looked as if she was shaking with rage, her mouth downturned and her eyes looking for a threat.
“Hey, I’m sure they’re all fine. They’re tough kids, they’re our kids which make them tougher.” Jake attempted a joke but it died out in the silence when Neytiri did not respond.
They hadn’t landed far from where Neteyam told them they were and they were almost silent as they crept forward into the thicket.
A flutter of motion from they’re left has Neytiri’s bow drawn and aimed at the spot.
“Mom! It’s just us! It’s me, Lo’ak!” Lo’ak revealed himself from his hiding spot, arms raised and Neytiri breathed a watery sigh.
She rushed forward, took her baby in her arms, and held him tightly. Lo’ak wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed. From behind him, Neteyam and spider emerged too, looking a little more embarrassed. Jake looked at his eldest and frowned.
“Where are your sisters?” He asked. Neytiri finally set Lo’ak down and gasped a little, noticing the absence of three of the Sully children.
“Kiri took Tuktirey back home and..” Neteyam looked ashamed, “yn was taken.”
His mother squeezed her eyes closed. Even if you weren’t born of her, you were her daughter. The idea of you being taken, as bait no less, had her heart in her stomach and her chest alight with anger.
Jake sighed and his face turned stony. “You all stay here, stay hidden, while we clean up your mess.” He whispered. The boys wilted and sunk back.
-
Your legs were starting to ache with how long you had been standing and your scalp with how hard the grip he had on your hair.
The man who had been holding you earlier passed you off to another one of his teammates, who seemed to take liberties in yanking your hair every once and a while.
The once clear sky had filled with clouds and rain trickled down through the canopy above you. No one had spoken in a long time, like everyone was holding their breath.
Suddenly, your ear twitched and you flicked your eyes to where you had heard…something. It could just be the sounds of the forest, an animal eating a plant or a ripe piece of fruit hitting the earth, but this sound sounded out of place, made my something not of the forest.
You caught a glimpse of something blue ducking behind the trunk of a wide tree. They had been holding what looked like a bow. Neytiri!
You shut your eyes and thanked Eywa for delivering you a mother as magnificent and brave as her.
Everything was still for a while and you wondered why Neytiri hadn’t taken a shot. Had she left? In an attempt to look like you were getting drowsy, you slumped a back into the avatar holding you. Your head hit his chin as you did so. He shoved you forward again, tugging your hair as he did so.
That’s why she hadn’t taken a shot, there was too much of a risk of hitting you. You looked up to where you had seen her before and caught her eyes. She had been staring at you intently the whole time, waiting for an opening.
So you gave her one.
You hoped she understood what you tried to say in a single look.
Saying another silent prayer to Eywa, you grabbed the arm that wasn’t gripping your hair, brought it up to your mouth, and bit down as hard as you could.
The man screamed, “You little bitch!”
Thankfully, on instinct he let go of your head and you had just enough time to duck out of the way before an arrow hit him straight between the eyes.
-
Twigs and leaves crunched beneath your feet and you made a break into the forest. You didn’t dare look back behind you. Gunshots rang through the air, some even whizzed past you.
Just as you jumped over the fallen trunk of a tree, an arm caught you from the side. You fought against it, landing a blow against whoever’s face had snatched you.
They groaned and let you go.
“Be calm! It’s just me!” Spider said as he held his now bloody nose.
You gasped and reached out to touch his face. “Oh Spider, I’m so sorry. You scared me!”
He shook his head a little before standing up, offering you a hand. “It’s fine, let’s go. Lo’ak and Neteyam already left.”
You took his hand and the two of you ran through the forest together. Never daring to look back.
-
When Jake and Neytiri returned, you knew you were all in for it.
You and your siblings listened outside of their tent, listening to them argue. You held Tuk to you, you didn’t want her to hear what they were saying but she insisted, so all you could do was let her know she wasn’t alone.
Jake stormed out of the tent and you all pretended to be looking at anything else. Smooth.
“yn, get over here.” He ordered. Lo’ak patted you on the back and walked away with the others.
“That stunt you pulled!? That’s not on, okay? It was stupi-!”
You interrupted him, “What I did was stupid, but I don’t regret it. If I hadn’t, Tuk would have been in my position and I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen, sir.” Jake was silent at that. The same stern look painted across his face and his eye twitched.
You stood your ground.
He stood his. For a while.
Until he broke.
The hard look he had softened and he just looked like a tired dad. You realised how stressed he must be, knowing that an old enemy was back and would go through his family to get him. He though he had lost Neteyam earlier this week, and now his daughter? You could have sympathy for him.
You approached him and wrapped your arms around his broad chest. “I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
It felt as if his chest buckled at that and he returned your hug.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again. Alright, soldier?”
You smiled up at him and gave him a. mock salute.
“Yes, sir.”
6K notes · View notes
tenpintsof-sundrop · 2 months
Note
Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3
Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼
See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)
(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)
DC Titans Requests - OPEN
How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?
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(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)
Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)
...
Jason is minding his own business when it happens.
(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)
He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)
But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.
(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)
There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.
And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.
He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.
(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)
But all of that was aside from the point.
The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.
He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)
(1) new photo
That instantly catches Jason's attention.
Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.
Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-
Holy fuck.
The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.
(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)
Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.
You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.
The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.
And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.
Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-
His phone buzzed again.
Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'
Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.
So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.
'No.'
(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)
'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'
Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.
'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'
(You hesitated.)
Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'
'???'
Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'
Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.
'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'
Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'
'Fine, I'll owe you one'
Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -
Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'
This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?
Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'
Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?
But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.
No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.
(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)
He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -
Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'
Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -
Oh. Oh fuck.
(1) new photo
You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.
It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.
So you had liked what you had seen.
Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'
Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-
Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'
Oh, he won't.
(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)
...
DC Titans Masterlist
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astrobydalia · 11 months
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more observations (lost count)✨
Hello guys! Life's been crazy lately and I barely have time to make any of the master posts I wanted to, so you'll be getting lost of observation posts that I've been collecting in my drafts for the past months. As always, enjoy!
❗️long post
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work by astrobydalia
✨ Sagittarius and Aquarius are so fucking similar. Both of them are chaotic af, love their freedom and think they're smarter than everyone else. People who have both of these in their big 6 have the most unhinged
✨ Libra is WAY more obsessed with perfection than Virgo
✨ Whenever I had Libra or Taurus ASC on my Solar return chart I was lazy AS FUCK. I had no motivation to work whatsoever during those years, all I wanted to do was vibe and enjoy life. I also felt very relaxed and stress-free, when difficulties came I just went with the flow
✨ What is up with Gemini risings and always feeling intellectually insecure all the time? Literally their #1 insecurity is feeling like they are dumb or like they’re not good enough for highly abstract and intellectual tasks/professions. They come across as someone immature who lacks wisdom or has a superficial/simplistic view of things. I feel like this is because they attract people who are a bit of know-it-alls (Sagittarius DSC) and they have a reputation for being scattered-brained (Pisces 10th house) so people tent to infantilize them a lot.
^^^But let me tell you this not true at all, Gemini risings are some of the most brilliant people I’ve met with so much potential. Their problem is that they allow overthinking to get the best of them and end up doubting themselves 24/7. These are the type of people who have amazing ideas but they never pursue any them. They really struggle making decisions for themselves, they always need to ask for opinions first which is not a bad thing but this makes them come across as incapable or as someone who lacks self-sufficiency
✨ Mercurial signs (Virgo and Gemini) like to focus on concrete things and immediate reality, they process life by connecting one thing at a time and taking info as it comes, they focus on what's going on around them cause Mercury is all about multiplicity and details. With Jupiter signs on the other hand (Sag and Pisces) one thing about them is they don't care about details as long as things make sense as a whole, they see life from a more broad and general perspective, they prefer having a birds eye view of things because Jupiter is all about expansion and therefore it likes to encompass many things at once. This is why Virgo and Gemini rule mundane life themes and immediate reality while Sag and Pisces are more about general life lessons and higher knowledge
✨ Scorpio moons/8th house moons are the definition of an energy vampire fr. They just have a really poor understanding of healthy emotional boundaries, they expect you to give your all but aren't willing to reciprocate and always turn everything into a manipulation or mind game somehow which makes it pretty exhausting to be around them in the long run. Don't get me wrong, most of the ones I’ve met were very and good people but they always end up taking my energy away and make me feel emotionally burnt out
✨ Mercury-Mars aspects have this "it is what it is" mentality and really dislike over complicating things by reading too deep into them. They tend to think things exactly as they seem. This does not mean they're simplistic, on the contrary this makes them surprisingly insightful fast thinkers and are not the type to be easily fooled
✨ I've seen people saying that hard aspects between Mercury-Pluto makes people misunderstand your words. This is not true, this happens with Neptune cause Neptune rules delusion, but Pluto is a very blunt and straightforward planet cause it's all about revealing the dark truths. Mercury-Pluto aspects makes someone very deliberate with their words and they know exactly what to say to make their message stick. You will understand their words exactly how they want you to understand them. What happens with hard aspects is that the native tends to have a more provocative approach in the things they say, they don't care if you're offended by what they say as long as what they say makes an impact. People can misunderstand their intentions because of this, but not their words
✨ The ironic thing about Aquarius placements is that they are very good when it comes to connecting with the masses, the public usually feels very drawn to them because they're very good at appealing to collective values which makes them come across as relatable to many people as a result. However, when you actually try to relate to them or connect one-on-one, you will find yourself with someone that is surprisingly elusive, distant and more distrustful than Scorpio placements which is a huge contrast from the welcoming vibe they give off to the public. I've found that the only way you will get close to an Aquarius placements is on THEIR terms lmao, if they've decided they like you, it'll be them who will approach you and/or make the effort to engage with you
✨ A reocurring thing I've seen with Virgo placements is that they really dislike big changes and prefer to stay in control. I think this is not mentioned often cause it's kinda weird to say that about a mutable sign, but Virgos being mercury+earth ruled they feel comfortable relying on facts, data, observations, etc and they use all this tangible info to navigate reality, that's why they rule daily life and routines because they invest a lot of their energy on factually understanding and categorizing their reality (earth signs in general are very attached to the tangible). Their mutable nature shows in that they easily use their knowledge to adapt, find solutions and fix what’s wrong but when they are in situations where these "categories" prove to be useless (aka Pisces themes), they get very triggered cause that means they no longer have control of their reality
✨ That being said another reoccurring thing I’ve noticed with Virgo placements is that they love to predict things. But not in a mystical sense it’s more like they enjoy understanding things in such way that they’re able to easily put a label on them and easily predict what’s going on or how something works
✨ I have not seen a single Taurus placement who didn’t have the most insanely sexy and pleasant voice ever. Doesn’t matter if they sing of not, just hearing their voice is so delightful
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✨ Aquarius Mercury really believe their opinions are the most ultimate and correct opinions out there. They are certain that their judgment is always 100% objective (aka always true) so in their mind if you slightly disagree with them that means you’re mediocre, dumb or narrow-minded.
✨ There's always a duality in all mutable signs. Sagittarius can be very humorous and optimistic but also very dark and profound. Gemini can be curious and chaotic but also very analytical and logical. Virgo can be picky and perfectionistic but also very permissive and conformist. Pisces can be very compassionate and wise but also very detached and clueless
✨ Neptune does not do well in air houses/signs at all simply because air energy rules (different types of) information and connections, while Neptune is all delusion and confusion. Also air energy is purely cerebral and rational while Neptune appeals to the unconscious
✨ I have not fact-checked this but I feel like it's safe to say that Mars rules testosterone. Testosterone is a hormone associated to violence or impulsive behavior, sex drive, red blood cells (blood), masculinity, etc That's literally all mars
✨ People always talk about how Capricorn moons have had a rough life but I've noticed this is also very true for Sagittarius Moons?? Responsibilities are not imposed on them like Capricorn, in their case they have to build up wisdom about life through pure and raw experience without anyone giving them a heads up or any pointers first, that's why they grow up feeling like they're fully on their own. Things work out for them at the end but they always have most MESSY life experience it's really crazy
✨ Both domicile and afflicted Mars are ambitious and determined but the main difference is that Libra/Taurus/Cancer Mars need to find some type of enjoyment or fulfillment in their goals in order to get motivated while Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio Mars find motivation in the challenge and endure through stuff they don't find pleasant
✨ From what I've seen males with Scorpio placements are very superficial and will gaslight as a lifestyle. They are the type of people who look the other way or brush things off or never takes anything seriously and I've noticed they do this so they never have to take accountability.
✨ Neptune/Pisces energy either gives “glamorous and ethereal” vibes or “weird in an extremely cringe way” vibes, there’s no in-between
✨ A reoccurring thing I've noticed with those who have Chiron in Taurus/2nd house or Chiron-Venus is that they often have dubious morality or double standards because they don't have a solid values
✨ Every single Libra Moon/rising female I’ve met embodied the material girl stereotype. They really have this “instagram girl” vibes to them if that makes sense
✨ Those with Sagittarius in the 5th house can actually find a lot of joy and happiness in becoming parents or they have a lot of fun with children
✨ Scorpio Mars can't stand not knowing what's going on around them and at first I thought this was bc they were suspicious/paranoid but then I realized it’s because they’re just controlling as shit. They come across as very chill and care fee but they’re actually SUPER controlling dude. Even when they know for sure that they can trust you and you’re doing nothing wrong they still want to keep taps on you and won’t leave you alone. They won't bluntly violate your privacy but will still find ways to always know what you're up to
✨ The resentful and spiteful stereotype associated to Scorpio actually belongs to Leo placements imo. They can be very reactive and childish when you insult their ego and will make it very known that they won't let it go
✨ Cancer North Node people always have some sort of issue or inner conflict with of having kids. They feel drawn to the idea of becoming a parent but deep down they low-key don't? I've also seen many women with this placement who had fertility issues
I have the theory that these natives are conflicted in this topic because they see family as an achievement or a societal expectation (Capricorn south node) so in this life time they have to know what it's like to desire a family for the right reasons and not because they feel like they 'should'
✨ Capricorn risings really are hyper-aware of their public image and how others perceive them. That's why they always end up becoming very popular and respected, cause they know very well where they "stand" publicly so they know how to successfully curate their own reputation. It's not surprising to see this placement a lot in celebrities
✨ Pluto in the 12th house are genuinely unsure of who they can trust which leads to a lot of paranoia and projection. The type to ignore the most obvious red flags but then automatically doubt your loyalty cus you spoke in a suspicious tone
✨ Pisces/12th house placements 🤝 disappearing. Y’all shit on Gemini for ghosting but have you ever met a pisces/12th houser?
✨ Saturn in 5th house people had parents (namely father) who were overly critical of them and their self-expression. Doesn’t necessarily mean they were unsupportive of the native but they were quite hard on the native’s creativity
✨ I've seen a lot of bullies/mean girls have Aquarius placements. Honorable mentions: virgo, Leo, libra
✨ Neptune-ASC people are really good at making themselves invisible when they want and/or making parts of themselves go completely unnoticed even if they're bluntly obvious. I've noticed they actually get away with a lot cause they have this tendency to not be accurately seen by others if that makes sense
✨ Neurodivergent individuals usually have Mercury harshly aspecting (conjunction, square, opposition and inconjuction) Uranus and Saturn. Said Mercury is more often than not in a water house/sign/degree or in Aries. Of course not everyone with these aspects will be neurodivergent, but it's just a pattern I've seen
✨ Pluto-ASC people most of the times fail to have a lighthearted view towards life. They always want to look beyond the surface of things which doesn't really allow them to enjoy life as it is. They often get a reputation for looking too deep into everything and in turn the Pluto-asc native often sees others as superficial
✨ Virgo risings are huge conformist and won’t go after anything that’s outside their immediate boundaries. They only make an effort towards things that are accessible and will quickly lose interest in anything that has difficult availability or requires them to go way out of their comfort zone. They're overall pretty self-serving.
✨ I know several people diagnosed with OCD. All of them have Virgo AND 6th house placements, 22º in their big 3, Scorpio Mercury/Moon and Mercury dominance
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howtofightwrite · 12 days
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Most traditional boxing instructors will tell you that if the opponent is taller than you, has longer arms than you, or is heavier than you, you're fucked and you need to stay extremely aware and work really hard to compensate for all the advantage he has over you.
In a recent forensic survey, it was determined that most traditional boxing instructors who get into real world altercations die when they're shot in the head.
This is the problem with a lot of these kinds of arguments. No one practices traditional boxing. At least, no one does so publicly. How do I know this? Because traditionally boxers fought in the nude. Yeah, we're not seeing that, are we? Now, maybe they meant bare knuckle boxing, but really no one does that either, these days. Boxing without safety equipment is not a particularly good idea, for fairly obvious reasons.
The only reason the word, “traditional,” is in the ask is to lend their statement unearned credibility. It's an attempt to make their statement sound more authoritative, without offering any evidence to support the statement.
Who said that?
“Traditional people did.”
Okay, but, 'traditionally,' people cleaned shit off their ass with a stick. So, maybe appealing to Hellenic sports isn't the best gauge of how a fight will play out.
Also, I know I just said it, but, who are these authoritative sports guys? Because they're not named. We're simply told, “most,” of them agree. Which starts to sound a lot like “four out of five dentists agree.” Who are these instructors? What do they teach? Why are the currently in prison for indecent exposure? And how much did you pay them to get their uninformed opinion? Salient questions which may need to be answered, if the original question wasn't invalid on its face.
Why do I say it's invalid?
Because boxing isn't fighting.
Boxing is a sport.
Boxing has rules.
Kick your opponent in the groin, or shin, and you're punished.
Step on their foot, push them, and watch them tumble to the ground before you start stomping on them, and you'll be punished.
Throwing your opponent will be punished.
And of course, as mentioned at the top, pulling out a gun and expanding your opponent's mental horizons is extremely frowned upon.
These are all things that can happen in a real fight.
These are all things that do not benefit from increased height or reach.
There is one genuinely accurate statement. In a fight, you do need to be very aware of what's going on around you. Everything else is the product of someone who's been punched in the head repeatedly until the CTEs got them thinking that boxing is analogous to a real fight in any way. (And, statistically, will probably end their career sitting in a jail cell over an aggravated assault charge, because their emotional self-control was completely destroyed by those same head injuries.)
The rules that boxers need to follow are designed to (somewhat) protect the participants. It reduces the dangers of a boxer being killed in the ring. In an observation that I would hope to be self-evident, those rules don't exist in actual combat.
It's also amusing, because the original Asker had to go so far as to single out an ill-defined, “traditional” boxing, because no other martial art they checked gave them the soundbite they wanted.
And, of course, women box. Historically, you could say, “traditionally,” there were even boxing matches between men and women. It wasn't until the 1880s that women were excluded from competitive boxing in the UK. (I'm not sure of the exact date when women were banned from boxing in the US, though that prohibition lasted for less than a century, before the modern return of women to the sport.)
So, either these “traditional instructors” don't know the history of their own sport... which doesn't sound particularly “traditional” to me, or they're full of shit.
My advice to everyone would be, maybe, don't take the advice of a sports coach about how he's secretly an absolute badass in all the delusional fantasies he's cooked up about how he'd like to inflict violence on others because they wouldn't date him.
-Starke
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ghouljams · 23 days
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Goose beats the shit outta König, that's the fic. Yay :) Dedicated to all my König haters, I get it.
cw: fighting, highly opinionated internal monologue, Goose is #1 König hater
You'd hate this man even if you didn't have two brain cells to rub together. You'd hate him just for bein' alive, but mostly you hate him for the jagged scar he's left around your husband's neck, and the audacity he has to glare at him from across the ag hall like it's Simon's fault. Simon's fingers steady against yours as you reach for your hip, his grip firm, warning. You're not supposed to be starting fights at town halls, and you certainly can't go about firing a gun in a room full of trigger happy hicks. But God Dammit you're a trigger happy hick and you want to shoot this motherfucker!
His stupid mug points its eyes your way and you level your glare at him. If he thinks that sort of smolder is going to scare you he's got another thing coming. You'd stick your hand in a fire and call it cold before saying that look did anything to you. Which seems to startle König a little(dumbass motherfucker, callin' himself a king when he's barely a cowboy). He blinks, his brows draw together, his eyes move back to glower at Simon and then sort of dart to yours. You'd spit if you could.
Simon leans heavy against you, the same way he always does when you're getting agitated, wraps a big hand around the back of your neck and turns you to look at the front podium. You do your best to keep your attention on the town happenings, the updates to summer reading lists, the town bylaws being up for a rewrite, all the minutia of small town living. But that fucking guy won't stop itching at you. You keep checking him out the corner of your eye. He's distracted by the city girl, which is good, gives you a chance to glare at the back of his head before Simon turns you forward again.
You're all but grabbed around the middle by the time the town hall ends. Simon working to keep you in place as you jump to your feet and attempt to go over and talk to König. Maybe some polite conversation will keep him from eyeing your husband like he wants to finish what he started. It doesn't matter, the man brings himself within swinging distance. Obviously too big for the brain rattling around in his head.
"König," Simon stops him, his fingers holding tight to the back of your jeans, "try keepin' your eyes on yer own work, hate havin' to lay you out again."
König's eyes narrow, his annoyance palpable as he looks for something cutting to say. Whether or not what Simon claims is true doesnt matter, the tension of a long standing grudge is one you know well. Youre just glad your man is being more civil than you are for once. König's eyes settle on you, and his head tilts. "And perhaps you keep your dog on a tighter leash, I would hate to deprive the town of a good-"
Simon lets you go and you fly at König. It's enough of a surprise that he raises his arms first to shield his face, before you crash into his middle to tackle him. Simon's on his feet, quick to grab the city girl when she tries to intervene as you bring your elbow down hard on König's nose. His hand shoots out to grab you by the neck, leveraging his reach to choke you as he tries to sit up. It's a good strategy, your arms are certainly shorter than his, but your legs aren't, and you're not the Captain's daughter for nothing.
You grip his wrist and throw your weight back, twisting to wrap one of your legs around his arm, your foot hooking behind his shoulder. You twist hard, and feel the joint dislocate with a satisfying pop. His fingers twitch, torn between letting you go and squeezing tighter. You unhook your leg from his arm and drive the toe of your boot up under his chin. Pulling at the dislocation as you push his head back, driving the pain clear through his arm from both angles. König howls, his free hand coming to clock you hard enough you're forced to let go and roll away from him.
"Hey!" your dad yells, "No fightin' in the ag hall."
"I'm not fightin'," you spit, pushing up onto your feet again, "I'm winnin'."
König says something in German you don't care enough to translate and attempts to rush you. He trips and whips his head to glare at Johnny's smile. You take the advantage, shifting your weight to your left foot. König preps for a right side strike, which is really too bad. You jump to your right, spinning as you hit the side of his knee with a hard left kick. König goes down a second time, taking the blow and dropping to one knee.
He's too reliant on his reach, swiping at you with blind fury as you slip right and cut his cheek with your elbow. You're really aiming for a knock out when you're hauled up and out of reach, König's arm closing around the space you'd been occupying. Gaz holds you out of the way with a mumbled apology.
"Captain's orders," he tells you.
"Nutte," König spits at you, you feel Gaz bristle.
"Mate, really..." Gaz grumbles, his hold loosens and you give a solid kick in König's direction. It doesn't matter. You watch Simon tap König's shoulder, watch König turn, and watch you lovely husband's fist collide with his jaw.
König goes sprawling and you see your mother rush over to check his injuries. The city girl is crying, you feel sort of bad for her. You should invite her to dinner sometime.
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impishjesters · 7 months
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Jax-in-a-box
warning(s): mentioned spicy jokes/comments note(s): (In response to the request) We don't have Jack in the box around here so I actually had to google it, thought it sounded familiar lol A/N: This idea was so cute and I had so much fun writing it. It is sort of implied the reader is attached to said box, but not how. But now I am imagining them hopping around like the Pixar lamp so that’s hilarious. If you want more hc's of the reader detached from the box feel free to send in another request~ request: I'm requesting a Jax x reader (crushing and actual relationship stage if possible) where they are kinda Jack in the box theme (no not like the restaurant mascot, I was telling my friend about this idea/request and she thought I was talking about him 😭) So the reader is the tallest of the group and has long hair, similar to the rope-likeness to Ragatha’s hair and they also have very stretchy arms and can do a bunch of things with them (wrap one of them completely around a person, can reach the top of the tent etc.) The reader also likes to stay in their box most of the time since it's dark and peaceful but isn't like antisocial, likes to hang out with the others and does light hearted pranks on them (Jax included, no one is safe).
Crushing Stage
You aren’t on the same level of jackassery or prankage that Jax is, but you do have a knack for more light-hearted pranks and that’s admirable because he always gets a good laugh out of whoever you prank.
Though that’s not saying much, all of them have been subjected to a jumpscare or two by you, trying to approach you when you are in your box really is unpredictable.
Like did you not hear them or are you intentionally trying to jumpscare someone? (It’s usually the first one, the walls aren’t thick but they can muffle when someone is trying to directly talk to you.)
Actually, the first time you scared Jax it was completely unintentional. Sometimes you sort of just, blend into the scenery when your box is tucked alongside other stuff. You didn’t even know he was there when you popped out and just, scared him.
Fortunately for him, nobody else was around because the sound that left him was priceless. He hates it (affectionately) that you use that to tease him every now and then.
Another time that you startled (read: scared) him was when you were hanging off the ground, he hadn’t been aware you were quite literally hanging around until you dropped down, the box making a comically loud noise in the process. (Which is funny because that time others were around, luckily Jax didn’t scream.)
The more he gets comfortable with you the more he finds himself leaning against your box during group socializing time or even letting you wrap one of your arms around him and yoink him around (usually out of harm’s way, Caine’s games are too much sometimes)
In the fashion that “a boy tugs on a girl’s hair because he likes her”, Jax has very much tugged your hair—it’s long and there’s a lot of it so it doesn’t always get in the box when you close the top. So parts stick out and he’s definitely let that part of his brain act on the “what if I just..yank it?”
Afterward, he just does it because he likes that your attention turns directly on him. It’s never a violent tug or anything, just enough to get your eyes on him.
Dating Stage
Not too much changes when the two of you start dating. There are still pranks but the two of you are closer and whatnot.
However, there is the new addition of more risque jokes/comments, such as the comment about whether cranking the handle on your box does something. (The first joke happens whether those kinds of comments discomfort you or not, though he’ll stop if they do. But if they don’t? Oh boy, expect so many awful jokes.)
At first, he had no opinion, but he kinda likes that you’re taller than him. The only other person is Kinger and he’s usually hunched over.
He finds your stretchy arms to be both useful and entertaining, though seeing them stretch to extreme lengths kinda bugs him out. (which is ironic because he’s a stretchy toy himself)
Along with leaning against your box, now he’s more comfortable actually sitting on it, or rather the ledge of it when it’s open.
He’s definitely sat on it while it was closed before though, you may or may not have accidentally thrown him off. (he’s irritated, but honestly, he should’ve seen that coming)
On occasion when the gang is stuck playing some dumb game that he’s not really paying attention to, he’ll sit on the ledge of your box and mess with your hair. It’s similar to Ragatha’s but longer and it’s a nice time-waster just seeing what he can do with it.
Since you tend to stay in your box more than your actual room, it makes finding you at times a pain. Sometimes Jax gives up, sometimes he asks where someone saw you last, and sometimes he just yells out. The first few times it’s all fun and games but afterward, he just gets irritated, it’s like you move around just to piss him off.
For whatever reason in the beginning he never questioned how exactly you worked, you know, being in a box, or part of a box? Expect plenty of questions and the occasional attempted peek into your box to see if you have legs (maybe a spring?) or not. (he’s not trying to be dirty he’s just intrigued.)
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misc-obeyme · 1 month
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How many relationships (or hook-ups) do you think the Demon brothers (+ side characters) had before meeting MC?
All of them are very old and seeing how they live long lives surely they had some experiences, some more than the others.
I'm thinking out of everyone Asmo definitely had the most experience with others. But with Asmo most of his experience are from hookups since he's the most beautiful in all Devildom, so everyone would want to have their way with him. He probably tried going into serious relationships but that didn't go anywhere.
Lucifer's pride might have gotten in the way for him to form a serious relationship in the past (and he was still traumatised being cast out of heaven), but he definitely had hookups here and there. I can see Mammon trying in the past to enter a serious relationship, he was madly in love, but he got taken advantage of :(( Maybe he had hookups for money??
I'm sorry, but Leviathan is an Ancient Virgin. The only experience he had was his right hand. Again it's difficult to say with Satan. He tried relationships and hookups but he wasn't into it and sticks with romance/smut books instead??
I doubt Beelzebub had anything serious going on with someone but maybe he had a few hookups? Belphegor's the same with beelzebub, my guy is too lazy haha.
It's difficult to place Diavolo seeing how he's the next Demon king. This may sound dumb but maybe he had a lot of Physical experience (The best Succubus/incubus for the king! The best Orgies for the King!) but no romantic relationships seeing how easily everyone would want the crown for themselves and how much of a scandal that could be. This could also be said for Mephistopheles since he's a noble too.
Then there's my precious sexy ass Barbatos. It's hard to say but i low-key think he had a few flings here and there when he was still young and not a butler yet. He won't be seeking out any relationships/hookups anymore since he probably tried everything already and that could possibly distract him from his butler duties.
Raphael/Simeon are Angels so i doubt they had any experience in the past when it comes to Relationship/hookups. Solomon DEFINITELY had quite a lot of Relationships/hookups! This guy had a ton of Succubi and wives! As for Thirteen i assume she's not into Relationships/hookups until she meets Mc.
What are your thoughts on this?!
Now this is an interesting topic, anon. I've thought about it a lot, but I don't think I've managed to settle on a solid idea that I like best.
The rest is below a read more because I wrote A LOT, so this way people won't have to scroll as much.
Also NSFW below the read more due to the discussion of sex, but nothing explicit.
I think how experienced the characters are is going to depend on how sex is viewed in their respective realms.
We know how it is in the human world. I personally have a huge issue with the way sex is taboo in our world. It bothers me that there's so much suppression of it and that people are so concerned about stuff that really isn't that big of a deal. It feels manipulative and I've always felt the conservative view of it is the predominant one in our society, which only exists to control people. At least, this is my view of how I've seen it handled around me. So I feel it's important to note that I am a USAmerican. I also happened to grow up in a place that was ultra conservative while not being conservative myself so my opinion may be skewed.
Anyway, the only reason I'm talking about this is that it means I tend to prefer thinking of both the Devildom and the Celestial Realm as more free with this kind of stuff.
Especially the Devildom, but the idea that just because angels are angels means they've never experienced sex or relationships bothers me. I think it's because the CR touts itself as being the pinnacle of all things good and pure and in my opinion, sex is good and pure. I don't like thinking of it as a "sin." (PLEASE NOTE I'm discussing consensual sex between adults, obviously this is not the case for abusive situations.)
That being said, I'm also aware that this is my personal take on it, so it might not really make any sense. Like I just want the CR to be chill about it because that's what I would prefer, not because it necessarily makes sense for them to be chill about it lol.
In the context of the game, it makes more sense for the CR to not be chill about it.
But their stance necessarily alters how much experience I believe characters like the brothers and angels to have.
Because the brothers were obviously angels for a big chunk of their lives.
I also have a personal preference for characters who do have some experience. I think a first love/first sexual encounter is always extremely intense and can be toxic or problematic in ways that the inexperienced person is blind to. (Not necessarily of course, but you kind of move past that all encompassing devotion that you tend to have for your first.)
So for me, it's more appealing for the characters to have moved past that first experience and to have some knowledge of how love and relationships work. It isn't necessarily about the sex part, but sex is often entangled in love and it certainly complicates things.
Which means that in my own personal thoughts about it, Levi is the only one who could even manage to stay a virgin that long.
The reason for that is because he makes it pretty clear that he rarely leaves his room, especially after they fall.
Now if the CR is chill about sex, I think it's possible that Levi had some desperate sort of encounters while he was fighting as the Grand Admiral you know what I'm saying? But if we're going with the idea that they aren't chill, then yeah, he's probably still a virgin.
I do think it's possible that Levi isn't a virgin, though. I honestly think you could easily come up with a situation in which he actually did have the opportunity come up. Maybe he even fell in love with someone over an online message board before meeting them in person. I just think there are options, you know? And in the end, it depends on what you prefer.
In fact, I would say I kinda feel this way about all the characters. I think you could say all of them are virgins if you wanted to. Lucifer, for instance. CR isn't chill, so he never did anything as angel. After he fell, too dedicated to his work and Diavolo to even bother pursuing anybody and always immediately shutting down anyone who came onto him so as not to get distracted.
That's just an example, I'm saying you can change these details to fit with your preference for any of them, though I think Asmo would be the hardest lol.
So here are my ideas on all of the characters, based on the concept that the CR is not stupid and instead chill about sex:
Lucifer is experienced, but not by a ton. In the CR, he's too busy being a seraph and keeping all his lil siblings in line. Maybe there are a couple of people who catch his eye and while he might indulge, I don't think he'd have had a relationship. After they fall, he retreats into himself. At this point, if you're into DiaLuci, that could start to become a thing. But I also think you could say that maybe he had a little bit of time where he kind of went crazy, going out and doing all the things he maybe didn't have time to before, more as a bad way of coping with the reality of the fall and the loss of his sister. After time, when they all get settled, I think it's an every once in a while kinda thing. He just doesn't strike me as the guy who'd have time for relationships unless it was with someone like Diavolo or MC (or Solomon... yes I'm still on the solulu train just you wait). He doesn't have any reason to let someone that close to him, you know?
Mammon, I agree with you on. I think he probably wanted to be in a relationship and likely fell hard for someone, only to have his heart broken. Thus his tsundere attitude now. It's a defense mechanism. I think that could have happened in the CR and then once he fell, he would just do the hookup thing, especially when he's out partying or gambling or something. It doesn't mean anything. He's still protecting his heart until MC comes along.
Levi we've discussed, but I do think he's either a virgin or maybe had some fumbling moments in war time, you know. Pluuuus I kinda think he was probably admired by a lot of angels during that time. So you know.
Satan has a whole stretch of time where he's just trying to figure himself out. I think he'd be cautious about a relationship due to his wrath. I always think of Satan as being super romantic, but he's also concerned about his own anger. He's afraid to hurt people because of it. So I kinda think he'd hold off. He likely had some hookups and such, but I don't think he'd have a full blown relationship until he felt it was someone who truly understood him.
Asmo I agree with you on, but I also think he could have had a serious relationship at some point. I kinda see it both ways. He might not because he doesn't want to tie himself down to any one person, but I think he can also fall in love passionately. So I think he could've had one really intense relationship that inevitably fell apart.
Beel is such a sweetheart, I can imagine someone else falling in love with him easily or other people kinda throwing themselves at him. I don't think Beel would've refused them, either. But I don't think he had a serious relationship, maybe just short ones here and there, probably some hookups, but nothing more.
Belphie I think could go a lot of ways, but I kinda see him being mostly uninterested. He might have had a couple hookups over the years, just because there are so many years and there's no way the opportunity didn't arise at some point. But I don't think he ever cared about anyone enough to pursue a legit relationship.
Okay, now bear with me here, but I kinda like the idea that Diavolo and Mephistopheles hooked up lol. I mean, they were childhood friends, right? Maybe when they got older and started having those thoughts and such, they were like hey... why not? I think it's really cute when bffs decide to be each other's first, even if they never intend to have a serious relationship, you know? Just another reason for Mephisto to hate Lucifer lol. Otherwise I would say Mephisto is probably pretty picky. I think he's more likely to only have been in a serious relationship, considering hookups kinda beneath him.
But aside from that, it's going to depend on what's expected of royalty in the Devildom. I can't imagine they'd have a rule about it, though. It's the Devildom, you know? So I think Diavolo has likely had hookups, but I do think it's a rare occurrence now that he's focused on running the Devildom and united the worlds and all that.
Barbatos, my true love. I like the idea that he was a bit promiscuous in his younger days, traveling through space and time and doing whatever pleased him. He might have been more passionate, more likely to fall in love, a little more free with himself physically. But ever since becoming a butler, I think he clamps down on that quite a bit, just like he does with everything else. He's certainly experienced and I don't think he's like not ever doing anything since becoming a butler, just that he doesn't do it as often as he once did. He's had a few relationships in the past, I think, but not since he started working for Diavolo. He's too dedicated and spends all his time in the castle.
Simeon and Raphael are going to depend on the CR again, but if we're still in my preference of the CR being cool about it, then I think Simeon at least is no virgin. He's too pretty and there is no way a million angels have not come on to him. And like I don't think he'd just fall into the bed of any angel that batted their eyelashes at him, I do think that he's secretly very passionate. Under that cool exterior, he loves hotly and I think he'd have fallen for someone at some point, giving them all of himself. Now he's older and more calm and collected and carrying the grief of losing Lucifer and his brothers.
Raphael I'm not so sure about. Because on the one hand, he's clearly quite passionate too in a "here are the spears" sort of way. But he was also super dedicated to his goal of becoming a seraph, so I don't know if he even had the room for any kind of relationship. Might still be a virgin. But I think you could go either way with him.
Solomon is a human and he's been around for ages there's no way he's still a virgin. I know I said you could make it work, but wow, that'd be tough to do with him, I think. He's like nah, the 700 wives and 300 concubines (or whatever the numbers were lol) are just for show, I didn't actually do anything with them! Wait, no but he had kids. Well you could say that Biblical lore doesn't apply to your story adsklfjdf
However. Solomon is known for being incredibly lonely. Even if he had relationships, he likely had them with other humans who inevitably died and left him alone again. So I think after his normal human lifespan ended and he had to start moving around more and kind of dedicated himself to magic, he likely stopped having relationships of any kind (love or friendship or anything) because it hurt too much. I think he could have hookups or one night stands with people he never saw again. But not so much a relationship.
Thirteen I dunno. That woman is hot af. I could see her having to turn down a lot of advances. I think she might have had some hookups, maybe even a relationship, but nothing too serious. She strikes me as a little more lighthearted about this kind of stuff. Like you know life is fleeting and in the end I'll just have to reap you anyway lol. I don't think she would get serious until MC.
ANYWAY. Sorry for this absolute NOVEL of a response. I didn't realize just how much I had to say until I started... and then I couldn't stop. I hope that somewhat answered the question, anyway??? In the end, I think it's possible to have all the characters as experienced or inexperienced as you like!
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the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months
Text
with the band | ksy
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pairing: drummer!soonyoung x journalist!f!reader genre: 70s!au, band!au, fluff, smut, tiny bit of angstsummary: you’re fresh out of college with big dreams about changing the world with your words on a page. The last thing you expect is to end up covering a tour and you certainly don’t expect to fight falling for the drummer. rating: explicit, minors dni word count: ~8.2k (i literally don't know, don't @ me, it was supposed to be short) warnings: brief mention of drinking, brief mention of assumed infidelity (not actual), reader mentions difficulties of male dominated profession and being a woman, 1 mention of drinking, explicit smut: kissing, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this), multiple orgasms, oral sex (f. receiving), briefest handjob/blowjob, reader is a little obsessed with hoshi's arms, hoshi picks reader up 1 time, idk i think that's it
a/n: this is for @svthub's 70s;teen collab and i'm so thankful that i got to take part in it. make sure you check out all the other amazing fics here! also a massive thank you to my bby indi @classicscreations for another last minute banner with minimal info from me. ily. (this is unbeta'd because i finished it late sorry!)
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When you went to school, you had all these big dreams. It’s easier for women to get an education now, universities that had been single sex are going co-ed, and women are allowed to have ideas. You feel excited about your future. You’re going to change the world. At least, that’s what you think.
Before you know it, graduation is around the corner and it’s time to try to find a job with your journalism degree. While you’ve become a standout contributor at your school paper, this is entirely different. Your big dreams start to feel a little deflated. Sure, you can get a job at a big newspaper, like you’ve always wanted, you just have to be fine with being the assistant to someone else. Getting their coffee and lunch orders, handling their schedule, fetching dry cleaning. And it’s not that you mind paying your dues, you don’t. You know that you’re going to have to work your ass off just to get that chance. But you’re not sure you can take the chance of getting boxed into being someone’s assistant. Close enough to get a hint of the story while never actually writing it yourself.
As you’re about to take one of the positions you’re so opposed to, you happen to get to know someone from the infamous Rolling Stone magazine. It’s not really your style, the whole sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll scene. You don’t feel like you know more than the average person when it comes to music. Music is great, you like it, and you’ve covered the occasional show for your school paper. It’s just not where you feel comfortable. However, as your new contact points out, they’re more than music. They’re culture and politics and just the heartbeat of the country. So, okay, why not take a shot? The worst that happens is they say no and you still have the papers to fall back on.
You don’t need to fall back. They like your writing at Rolling Stone, like your perspective. They like your honesty most of all, that sticks out. Someone tells you that they can tell exactly what you think about something and it’s exactly what they’re looking for. Maybe later, you’ll look back and wonder if this was really the right fit. If you knew what you were getting into. All you can do when you get the offer is say yes. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, you tell yourself, to actually get to say something right away. Who cares what you’re talking about? If there’s one thing you know how to do, it’s form an opinion. 
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Several months into the job, you actually like it a lot more than you expected you would. Yeah, there’s a lot of partying, a lot of drinking, a lot of other things you’re not going to mention. But, the world is changing and you want to be there for it. 
As much as you initially expected to join Rolling Stone for the culture and political pieces, you’ve written just as many pieces about music. There’s a human element to it that draws you in, a commentary on the artists and what they’re trying to say. You don’t think twice when your boss assigns you to cover a show in the area. A big group is headlining, something you know will draw everyone out, but your boss wants you to pay attention to the other acts. Find out if there’s a story.
You’re somewhere in an open staff room before the show, taking time to catch up with people you know through work, through other shows, just from being around the area. It’s there that you hear the commotion outside the room. It sounds like a group of girls reacting to someone, probably one of the musicians. Seconds later, the musician in question opens the door, smiling softly over his shoulder and calling out a string of thank yous before heading around the corner.
It’s familiar with the shows you’ve covered. He’s hiding out from the fans that hang around and try to get closer to them. Some of them are familiar with the staff, both for the groups and the venues, though, and they come and go as they please. He seems to realize this and rushes over to your table, sits down in an empty seat and tries to look like he belongs.
“What’s the low down?” he asks without preamble. 
You’re caught off guard for a lot of reasons. The first is that you have no idea who this man, with his short hair and denim shirt actually is. He looks like a musician, probably could be a member of one of the other, smaller groups playing tonight. He seems like he’s probably in his mid-20s. But you don’t know him. The second reason is that you’re not really sure what he’s asking.
“With what?” you finally ask.
“The group of girls hanging around outside,” he supplies. Of course.
���This your first show or something?” you ask.
“Not exactly,” he says. “I mostly did studio work until I replaced the guy before me in Moonwalker. They needed a new drummer.”
“I’m sure you had plenty of girls hanging around the studio,” you say. 
“Including you?” he wonders. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.”
You give him your name in return. “And no, I write for Rolling Stone.”
That catches his interest in the way it always does with musicians. They all want to be in the magazine, want to know they’ve made it. Just as many want to make sure whatever’s published about them is positive, paints them in a good light. It’s why your boss has always stressed to remember the musicians aren’t your friends. That’s never been an issue for you, so you’ll continue to chat with Soonyoung. Try to see if his band might be the one you pitch to your boss. 
He wants to keep talking, you can tell, but a man that looks like a manager pops his head into the room. Once his eyes land on Soonyoung, he’s calling him away. The rest of the band is going over something pre-show and they need him. Soonyoung looks back at you.
“Catch ya later?” Soonyoung asks it as a question instead of making it a statement.
“Maybe,” you answer, noncommittal. 
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The next day at work you fill your boss in about the show and pitch Moonwalker for a feature. They’re young and hungry, saying a lot with their music, and there were almost as many fans there to see them as there were to see the headliner. Culturally and musically, they’re relevant. If you can get the jump on this story, you might even be able to beat out the competition. Which is always a gamble. You don’t have some magic 8 ball telling you if these guys are the real deal. 
After your boss loops in a couple of the big music guys at the magazine, he agrees that you can try to get the story. If the band will let you go to the next several stops, and actually answer your questions, your boss will sign off on it. Well, you have to stay on top of your other assignments too, but you assure him that won’t be an issue. 
Three days later you’re headed to your first stop on the tour. Their manager had initially been skeptical, but called back a few hours after the pitch. Apparently Soonyoung had asked if it would be you doing the story, said you seemed cool, and the rest of the band was eager for the exposure. So you packed your bags and got on the next bus out to meet them on their tour. From there, you would be traveling with the band. That had also come with the warning from your boss and colleagues, a reminder that the guys in the band weren’t your friends and the women who traveled with them were even less so. Not that it was news to you. 
(And not that you’re thinking about the phone call you got after work that night.
“Hello?” You’re balancing the phone against your ear as you sort through some recent mail.
“Hey! This is Soonyoung!” comes a cheery voice on the other end.
“Oh, uh, hi,” you say. “How did you get my number?”
“My manager called the magazine for a couple last minute questions and they gave him this number,” Soonyoung answers.
You’re wondering why your boss, always worrying about keeping those lines firmly in place, gave out your personal number. But that’s an issue for another day. 
“So you’re hitting the road,” Soonyoung carries on. “You must’ve been into our sound.”
“You’re different and the crowd seemed to dig it,” you say.
“Can’t wait to catch you on the trail,” Soonyoung finishes.)
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The band is funny to be around, you think. It’s a little like herding children at times, even though they’re a few years older than you. But their attention is constantly somewhere and rarely on the question you’re asking. Which should be frustrating, except that Soonyoung is always looking over at you with an apology in his eyes. Always filling in every answer that he can with this band he’s gotten used to at light speed. 
You do get your answers, though. Answers about everything from how the band got together to where they see themselves going to what they think about where the country is headed. In between the booze and the women and the drugs, you’re able to piece together who this group actually is and what they’re about. The more you learn, the more you want to learn. The more you relate to the things they’re saying. For the first time in your career, you’re actually wondering if you can capture the energy of this band when you put it to paper. Can you capture the way they vibe together? Can you capture the way the singer mesmerizes an entire crowd? Can you capture the way Soonyoung goes from smiling and happy to laser focused on stage? There’s magic in seeing them perform live.
There’s also the small matter of getting too close to them. Or to one of them in particular. From the beginning you knew that Soonyoung would be a problem. He’s too loud and he’s not all that smooth, but there’s a real tenderness to him. There’s a softness to his approach that you weren’t quite expecting. The first time he invites you to hang out with the band after a show, you ignore it. It’s easy. You’re thinking of the advice from your boss and your coworkers. The second and third times are easy too. Well, easy enough. You say no and go back to your room to work on notes for the story.
Except, that’s when it changes. You get on the phone with your boss, tell me how much bigger the story is becoming than you ever anticipated. There’s so much more than just the band, from the backgrounds of the members, to the lyrics of their songs, to where they see themselves heading. Three members, including Soonyoung, are the children of immigrants in this country. Where you expect push back from your boss, instead you’re met with agreement. Stay on the road, you’ve been on top of your assignments. He’ll give you more words for the piece you’re writing. Just carry on, he loves all the notes and ideas he’s seen so far. 
It’s exactly what you’re hoping for and yet there’s still a feeling in the pit of your stomach like things are about to change. Not because this is a big article, though it is. You’ve never been given more than a thousand words and you have three thousand now. It’s more than just a chance. Yet you’re still unsettled about something. 
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It’s another day. Another set of pre-show questions, a depth to each band members’ background, an insight in the process of writing songs, even a little bit of a look into why each of them got into music in the first place. The leader of the band and the manager are more reserved, concerned with how the group will come across when you write this article. They’re always asking what you’ll say or if they can see the article before it comes out. 
Your answer is always the same: no. But, you assure them that you’re not in this to ruin their careers. What would be the point? Who would want to answer your questions moving forward? You just want to paint an honest picture of what they’re like and what they’re about. 
Post show is the same song and dance as always. Soonyoung asks for you to come by their routine after-party. You see the way some of the other hangers-on watch for your answer, seem annoyed that he’s asking yet again when you’ve said no every other time. You say no, like every other time, and watch the smiles that form instantly on the faces of those who drag Soonyoung off. His eyes stay on you even after you turn around to head to your room. 
That’s where the similarities stop. You’re reading over your notes at the desk in your dingy hotel room. It’s far too late and the lighting is awful, but you want to make sure you get it all down before you forget. You also want to test out a few sentences or even passages to send back to your boss. The article really has taken shape in your head and you’re excited to actually write it.
A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts about word choice. You figure it’s probably just some drunk person looking for the band and getting the room wrong. Or looking for friends after the show. It’s not like that would be the first time. So you don’t consider that you’re not really dressed for company.
“Hey,” from a voice that’s entirely too familiar. 
There’s a moment when you’re both just looking at each other. You’re trying to figure out what he’s doing here and why he doesn’t seem drunk. He’s taking in your open bathroom over your nightgown. After another moment, you pull the bathrobe closed, definitely too late by the smirk playing on Soonyoung’s mouth. 
“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask after clearing your throat.
“I wanted to see what was so important that kept you from hanging with us,” Soonyoung answers. “‘M I interrupting something?” 
“Yes, actually,” you say before you can think better.
“Really?” he challenges.
“I was writing,” you rush out. “I don’t have my typewriter here but I’ve been putting passages together.”
“And that couldn’t wait til morning to hang out with us? See what we’re like outside of the venue?” Soonyoung presses.
“I’ve seen you outside the venues,” you argue. “And it’s not that it’s keeping me from hanging out with you.”
“Then what is?” he asks. 
“We’re not friends, Soonyoung, and you’ve got plenty of people to keep you distracted,” you offer with an eye roll.
“They’re not that distracting…or entertaining,” he says and you actually laugh. 
“They’ll be heartbroken,” you muse.
“Let me come in for a drink,” Soonyoung presses. “It’s rude to leave company in the hall.”
“I don’t have anything to drink,” you say, almost regretful.
“I do,” Soonyoung says, holding up a six pack.
This is dumb, a terrible idea. It’s exactly what your boss warned you about. But you step to the side anyway and let Soonyoung walk around you. With a look down the hallway to confirm nobody saw him, you close the door.  
“What are you doing here, really?” you ask.
Soonyoung settles on the edge of the bed and opens one of the beers. He holds one out to you and you take it. He’s already inside the room, might as well appreciate something free to drink.
“I don’t know, I like being around you. There’s more to you than most of the people that hang around the band,” Soonyoung says.
“That’s because I’m not just hanging around the band. I’m here working,” you reason.
“And that means you can’t have fun?” Soonyoung wonders.
“I am having fun,” you disagree. 
“You know what I mean,” he says, not letting you get away with it. You hesitate, unsure where to go from here. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m interested in you. I want to actually know you in the way you’re getting to know us. I’m laying myself bare and you don’t have to do the same, I just want to know you.”
Which is fair, isn’t it? Of all the band members, Soonyoung has been the most open, the most honest about who he is, what he’s about, and where he wants to go. So you make the decision you probably always were going to make. You sit down on the bed next to him, instead of leaving space by sitting in the chair, and you start to tell him who you are. Nothing feels off limits from your struggles in a male-dominated field to your family life to your past relationships. To his credit, he’s a good listener. His face is so expressive and open that you find yourself saying more than you have to anyone in ages. 
As you continue to talk, your beers sit largely untouched. Soonyoung’s taken a few sips, but mostly his eyes have been focused on you, like he’s looking for the things your face is saying that your words aren’t. Somewhere it progresses from you talking about who you are to the two of you talking about anything that comes up. It’s not a level of comfort you were ever expecting to feel in a place like this. It’s also really difficult to remember what your boss said.
“So we’re not friends, huh?” Soonyoung asks during a lull.
“Oh, well…” you stutter.
He laughs. “Luckily I’m not so easily scared off.”
“It’s just, my boss…well he warned me not to get too close to you,” you admit.
“Me specifically?” Soonyoung asks.
“No, the band as a whole,” you answer without meeting his eyes. 
You start when Soonyoung’s finger lifts your chin up to meet his eyes. It’s hard to meet them when you feel like he sees through you. “I think you seem smart enough to make that call for yourself, don’t you?” 
All you can do is nod. That seems to make him happy. You feel more exposed though, more raw. Even more so when you remember that you’re only in your nightgown and bathrobe. Without even realizing it, you pull the bathrobe closed again.
“Do you want me to go?” Soonyoung’s voice is quiet, not a whisper but deep with something else. The entire mood shifts. 
You shake your head immediately. This time it’s not enough.
“I need to hear you,” he says.
“No, Soonyoung, I don’t want you to go,” you say quietly. 
His fingers are on your chin again, soft enough that you could pull away if you wanted to. Which you don’t. His voice is still low, thick with something you now realize is desire. It’s the same feeling you got when you extended your trip following Moonwalker on the road. And it’s definitely trouble. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice gentle like he has to be careful with you. 
You nod again before considering if he needs to hear you. He doesn’t. Not this time. His lips meet yours gently, so soft like he’s not really sure it’s happening. Like he’s worried this is all a dream. You’re kind of worried about that too, but you’re not sure if it would be better that way. If this should all just be something you’re dreaming up instead of something that’s actually happening. 
It’s not enough, you open your mouth and he takes it as an invitation almost immediately. The kiss deepens, becomes a little more insistent and a little more desperate. He’s testing the waters at the same time. One hand rests on your bare thigh and the other slides up your neck into your hair, anchoring you to his mouth. You gasp a bit at the firmness. It’s a different side to him than you’ve seen. Well, except when he’s on stage. He’s just as focused then as he is now. 
But it’s not quite enough and you’re not really sure what makes you adjust. You’ve never really been someone to be forward, not like this. So you’re not really sure why you readjust to straddle his lap. Not that he’s complaining. His groan is low, from the back of his throat, as you settle on top of him. For a moment, you’re aware that you’re still just in your nightgown. 
Until Soonyoung’s hands run along the bare skin of your thighs and you shiver under his touch. Until his fingers dig into your skin, just hard enough to anchor you but not so hard it’ll leave marks. Until your own fingers find their purchase in Soonyoung’s hair, shorter than you’re used to on men, yet perfect for him. You’re not used to straddling someone like this either, so you try not to move too much. Except when you need to adjust because your knees aren’t comfortable as they’re digging into the mattress. That single movement drags your core across his lap and pulls a deep groan from him. You can feel him hardening when he jerks his hips up into you.
Soonyoung moves one hand up your back, underneath the nightgown so his fingers are on your skin. His other hand holds the back of your head so you can’t stop kissing him. Then he’s leaning back onto the bed, bringing you with him so that now you’re on top of him. You feel a little out of your element like this, not entirely used to being the one in control. Even if the control is an illusion and it really rests with Soonyoung. It’s like he can sense that and wraps his strong arms around you to flip the two of you over. He breaks the kiss only for a moment as he’s hovering over to look down at you. You’re sure you blush under his attention, there’s so much affection. Then you’re kissing again. 
You know where this is heading, know and don’t want to stop it. His hips rut against your core more as the kisses continue to intensify and you want more. Need more than the friction with too much clothing between you. You’re about to pull his shirt off, have your fingers on the hem, when there’s a loud banging on the door. It startles you both from your little bubble. After a second, the banging starts again.
You reluctantly slide out from underneath Soonyoung to go look out the peephole. Something you did not do when he showed up. It’s one of his bandmates. You crack the door open and try to act like you’d been sleeping.
“Hey sorry, we’re looking for Soon, have you seen him?” he asks.
You pretend to yawn and shake your head. “Sorry, been sleeping.”
“Huh, well sorry,” he says and is gone before you can say anything else.
Soonyoung is behind you before the door even closes, wrapping his arms around you and holding you back against his chest. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear, gentle like his first kiss. 
“I should probably go before they come back,” he whispers against your skin.
“About what I said,” you begin, turning around in his arms to face him.
“S’okay, I get it,” he assures you. He places the gentlest kiss on your lips. “I know what you’re dealing with.”
“Thank you,” you say quietly.
“And maybe we’ll get to continue this,” Soonyoung offers. He sounds like he’s trying to be nonchalant, but his face gives away how badly he wants you to agree.
“God, yes, please,” you respond. You don’t care how you sound when his face lights up. That’s all you need.
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The next day has you packing up and heading to the next city. Road days are actually some of your favorite because it’s just you with the people on the bus. It’s a much smaller group than at the venues or at the hotel afterwards. It also gives you a better glimpse into who Moonwalker are outside of the performances. You see how they interact, how they approach conversations, what they do to fill their time.
Of course, now, Soonyoung wants to be around you whenever he can. A fact entirely too obvious to some of the people on the bus. He accepts that you want to keep some amount of distance, doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. The two of you just kind of gravitate together anyway. Whether it’s sitting near each other on the bus or stopping at the same places for food when you stop. Most people seem to write it off as how he’s been with you the entire time. Most don’t realize that you’re seeking him out almost as much now. 
You get enough time without prying ears to let him know that you don’t want to distract him the night before a show. You also know how their manager can be, so you think it’s best for him to be in the bed that he’s supposed to be in. He pouts for a second but understands. You’re trying to keep at least the appearance of separation. 
The day of the next show finds you in the lobby waiting for some coffee and something to eat when a woman breezes in through the open doors. You hate to generalize, but she looks like a lot of the other women that hang around bands, except a little more confident. A little more sure of herself or her position. Maybe she’s someone’s girlfriend. You’re sure that whatever Moonwalker gets up to on the road, at least some of them are in relationships. Not Soonyoung, you’re sure he would’ve mentioned it. 
For some reason, the woman approaches you after speaking to someone at the desk. She’s glamorous up close, for lack of a better way to put it, but maybe not as confident as you’d initially thought.
“Is this where Moonwalker is staying?” she asks without preamble. 
“Uh, yeah,” you answer.
“Oh good, I’ve been looking for Soonyoung and I keep missing his stops,” she says with a smile.
Your stomach drops and you do everything you can not to let your face show how bothered you are. She’s looking for who?
“Soonyoung?” you ask. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to pick up on your distress.
“It’s an unusual name, I know, but he’s the drummer for Moonwalker,” she carries on.
“Uh, I haven’t seen him today,” you offer.
“I wasn’t expecting you had, you’re clearly not a groupie,” she says with a slightly sympathetic smile. You’re not really sure what to do with that. “But he’s staying here?”
“Yeah, they’re staying here,” you confirm. “Who are you?”
“Oh well I’m his…well it’s complicated, but we’re seeing each other,” she says.
“Right,” is all you can muster.
“Who are you?” she asks.
You give your name. “I write for Rolling Stone.”
“You’re a journalist?” She asks the question with all the surprise and disdain of someone that thinks only men can write.
“I am,” you confirm and stand up. “It’s been great speaking, I’m sure Soonyoung will be around soon. They haven’t left for the venue yet.”
You’re off before she can say anything else without coffee or the snack you’d been looking for. Before the tour, you never drank coffee in the afternoons because of the caffeine. Now, you’re staying up much later. 
Once you’re back in your room, you let yourself cry. For so many reasons. For breaking the rule and getting so close to Soonyoung. For allowing yourself to feel something for him. For being stupid enough to think he felt something for you too. For how hard it’s going to be to carry on with this story now that you know who he really is. For having to separate personal from professional. For all the things that could have been. 
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You keep your distance from Soonyoung through the rest of the day and the show. He’s visibly confused when you make excuse after excuse to walk away or talk to someone else. But why should he be? Surely the woman ended up finding him after speaking to you and surely she’s waiting somewhere for him. Why should he keep bothering with you? 
It’s not until you’re back in your room post-show that you start to plan your next steps. You’re scheduled to join the band for at least 3 more shows. It’s what you and your boss agreed to. And it was fine, before everything happened with Soonyoung. Could you find a way to convince your boss that you do actually have enough for the article and it’s time to come home? Maybe. You’ll have to start thinking of good reasons.
It’s during this inner monologue that you hear a quiet knock at the door. You know who it’s going to be before you even open the door. Soonyoung stands on the other side looking much more subdued than normal. He looks sad, maybe even hurt.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
His voice sounds just as sad as he looks, which causes anger to flare in you for a moment. What reason does he have to be hurt? But you step aside anyway because this isn’t a conversation to have in the doorway where anyone could overhear.
“What is it?” you ask once you’re both inside. He sits on the edge of your bed and you take the chair at the desk.
“What’s wrong?” he asks in response.
“What do you mean what’s wrong?” you ask louder than you intended.
“Everything was good and we were on the same page, what changed?” Soonyoung asks.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you having a girlfriend? I met her in the lobby this afternoon, she was looking for you,” you fire back. 
Soonyoung goes quiet. Not like he’s been caught, like he’s confused. Like he doesn’t know what you mean. Then his face changes into one of annoyance. “Do you mean Mary?”
“I’m not sure, Soonyoung, how many girlfriends do you have?” you ask, irritated.
“None,” he insists and then describes the woman from earlier.
“Sounds right, she didn’t mention her name,” you agree. 
Soonyoung huffs out an overly annoyed sigh. “That’s not my girlfriend and again, I do not have a girlfriend…”
“Girlfriend, friend, groupie, whatever,” you dismiss. “I’m not interested in the drama.”
“Neither am I,” Soonyoung insists. You want to believe him. His face is so kind, so honest. But this is why you don’t get involved with the band.
“I want to believe you,” you start.
“Then believe me,” Soonyoung pleads. “Mary used to hang around at the studio I worked at before coming on this tour. I was nice to her, we chatted a couple times, but I never even got her number. I never even went out with her or kissed her or anything. I have no idea why she showed up here.”
“You promise?” you ask. 
Soonyoung is off the bed and coming to kneel before you in a single move. He takes your hands in his, so still and serious. Like nothing else matters. 
“I promise you, there is nothing going on there. The only person I’m interested in getting to know is you,” he says. 
“Soonyoung,” you caution.
“I know, your career, the article, all of it, I get it,” Soonyoung assures you. “I’m willing to take whatever you can give me.”
It’s dumb. You know it’s dumb. And you don’t care because this man in front of you is doing more than you ever expected. So you lean forward to kiss him and feel him smile against your lips. The next second, he hoists you up (you’re thankful for that drummer arm strength) and carries you to the bed. He’s so gentle when he puts you down, so careful to make sure you don’t hit your head on the headboard. 
And then his lips are on yours again, kissing you so fiercely that you lose your breath. His hands wander your body like he’s trying to map every piece of you. Every curve, every spot, every place that makes you shudder. His lips on you are a constant, keeping you grounded in this moment, allowing it to feel like more than a dream. His hands wander up the skirt you wore to the show earlier. You had put off changing for bed beyond removing your stockings and shoes. Now you’re almost thankful for that decision with how your skin erupts into goosebumps under Soonyoung’s touch. 
This time when you reach to remove his shirt, there’s no loud knock to disrupt you. There’s nothing at all to distract you from the beautiful man hovering over you on the bed. It seems ridiculous, now, that you ever thought you could ignore him. Once you get his clothes off, he removes your own, so you’re laying bare on your bed. Everything inside you wants you to cover yourself, unused to anyone taking you in with the attention Soonyoung gives you. But when you go to move your hands to cover yourself, he catches them, places the softest kisses on your knuckles, and lightly puts them over your head. His eyes take your body in like he’s never seen anything better.
“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispers against your skin. “You’re perfect.”
“Look who’s talking,” you manage to reply. 
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, pulls away so he can look you in your eyes. “It’s okay if you say no.”
“Little late for that,” you chuckle.
“No, it’s not,” he reiterates. 
“I know, Soon,” you say through a smile. “I do want this.” 
It’s all the reassurance that he needs when his lips meet yours again, insistent. One of his hands runs down your body and along your thigh before he separates your legs. It makes you shiver in anticipation. Every part of you longs for him. You know he must realize. He runs one of his fingers between your folds and moans into the kiss with how wet you are. How badly you want him. How ready you are for him. After he does this several more times, you pull away.
“Please,” you beg him. 
You’re expecting him to tease you or to ask you what it is you’re begging for. Instead, he slides one finger inside you and captures your gasp. The kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough before he’s pulling away again, this time to watch your body react to his finger pumping slowly in and out of you. He’s encouraging your moans, muttering praises into your skin, making you feel like nothing else matters. He slides a second finger into you and your back arches at the feeling. He hooks his middle finger inside you and you know you’re going to be done for entirely too soon. 
As his pace quickens, he trails kisses along your neck, your chest, your stomach. You can’t even be self conscious because he doesn’t give you the chance. Just makes you feel better than you’ve ever felt with just his fingers. Your hands tangle in the sheets as you writhe under his attention.
“Soonyoung, please, I’m gonna come,” you whine out. He doesn’t slow, just adds a third finger.
“Then come, baby, I want to watch you come all over my fingers,” he urges.
And that’s, well that’s got you even closer. Never have you had a guy put your own needs above his own like that. He keeps his rhythm steady and it’s all too much, you’re feeling him everywhere and your body is on fire.
“Let go,” he whispers low into your ear.
So you do, you let go and drench his fingers, the release so strong that it takes you a minute to come back down or to realize you feel empty without his fingers. He’s laying on his side next to you and running a hand through your hair to brush it out of your face.
“Oh my god, Soonyoung,” you rasp out.
“Yeah?” he asks and you nod. 
He adjusts his position and you feel his hard length against your hip. You reach a hand down to lightly grip his cock. It’s longer than you were expecting but not too thick. Not entirely intimidating to think about inside of you. 
“You don’t have to…” he starts.
“I want to,” you disagree.
You run your finger over the head, collecting a little of the precum and then run your hand back down. It’s not enough though, so you push yourself up. He follows you with his eyes and readjusts so he’s leaning back against the headboard. You get between his legs and lick a stripe up the underside of his length, watch as he shudders over the briefest touch. You can tell he’s trying to sit back and enjoy it, but he’s sensitive. He must have enjoyed you coming on his fingers more than you realized. 
He lets you tease him, running your tongue along him entirely too slowly, your hand pumping without enough friction. But his desires win out before long.
“I need to be inside of you,” Soonyoung whines. “Please?”
You swallow hard and nod. “Yes, oh my god.”
Before you even realize what’s happening, he gathers you up in his arms and lays you down underneath him. He spreads your leg and kisses all the way up from your thigh to your lips, leaving you desperate for more of him when he pulls away. It’s only so he can line himself up at your entrance, though. He eases into you slow enough that you can adjust to the feel of him. And then he’s rolling his hips into you.
You’re not sure if it’s the build up between the two of you, the realization of your feelings when you met the woman claiming to be his girlfriend, or what, but everything just feels…better. The stretch is that perfect kind of pleasure and the way he rolls his hips into you is just the right pace. He whispers constant reassurances into your skin and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this safe or whole with someone before. 
He takes his time with you, doesn’t thrust into you too hard or too fast, just wants to savor the moment. You can’t recall your last relationship taking this much care. It’s overwhelming in the best way, in the way that you don’t want it to end.
“I’m so close,” he hisses out too soon. 
“I’m almost there,” you whine out, heading towards your second orgasm of the night.
Soonyoung reaches between you and starts to rub your clit, making you cry out from the sensitivity. In no time, you’re screaming out as you come seconds apart from each other. 
“Wow,” Soonyoung says when he’s caught his breath and laying next to you on the bed. 
“Yeah,” you agree. 
He rolls over onto his side and faces you, looking both incredibly relaxed and impossibly happy. “Are we okay?”
“Oh my god, this is when you ask?” you laugh out.
“Well, I don’t wanna make the wrong assumption!” he defends.
“Yes, we’re good,” you start, “and before you say it, I will talk to you before making assumptions next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time? Do you like me?” Soonyoung asks, all gentle teasing in his voice.
“I am going to kick you out of this room,” you threaten.
You don’t follow through. Not when he wets a towel to come help you clean up or when he offers to get you clothes to wear to bed. Not when he fills up a glass with water for you to drink so you’re not dehydrated. Not when he offers to leave so that people don’t get the wrong idea. Not when you’re pulling him into a kiss and back into bed. Not when you’re talking until you fall asleep tangled up in each other.
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The next couple days pass in kind of a blur with traveling and getting settled into the next tour stop. Needless to say, you don’t reach out to your boss about ending your trip early. You do have a conversation with Soonyoung, though, about how it is almost your last stop. He gets it, but he’s not ready to think about it, instead wrapping himself around you and pressing kisses to any part of your body that he can reach. He’s incredibly distracting and you find you don’t really mind. You also don’t mind if he lets his bandmates think there’s something going on with you. None of them seem surprised, which makes you wonder what he said before he won you over. 
After the next show, he doesn’t even pretend to go to the afterparty before coming to see you. He departs from his band and the hangers-on at the entrance to the hotel and comes straight to your room. Just as the two of you planned. And not that you’re expecting anything, but you’re waiting in your nightgown just in case, unable to stop thinking about Soonyoung moaning over being interrupted the first time. 
“Hey…wow,” Soonyoung says when you open the door and he takes you in.
“You were whining about being interrupted the first time,” you offer with a shrug. 
“I was not whining,” he protests, but kisses you anyway when he steps inside. 
“You were and it was cute,” you disagree. Calling Soonyoung cute is a mistake, you realize that the second you see his face.
“You think I’m cute,” he preens.
“I take it back,” you say immediately.
“Nope,” he says and pulls you into him. “Can’t take it back.”
He kisses you hard and deep before you can continue the argument. Not that you’re complaining about it. He moves backwards to sit down on the bed and pulls you onto his lap. Same position, different bed. You’ll still take it. 
“Soon, can I ask you something?” you ask.
“Anything,” he offers.
“Tonight, can you…don’t be gentle with me,” you manage.
“You didn’t like that?” Of course that’s his first worry.
“No, no, it was amazing, completely perfect,” you assure him and he relaxes beneath you. “It’s just…I want…”
“Something else,” he finishes.
You nod and look down, absently playing with the hem of his shirt. “I just, I feel safe with you and I want to try things.” 
Soonyoung lifts your chin with a finger so you can see how much care there is behind his eyes. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then to your lips. 
“I won’t be so gentle with you, then,” he agrees. “But you have to tell me if it’s too much okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree.
And he’s not gentle. He takes his time building up to it, kissing you hard and pulling your lip between his teeth. Pulling off your clothes so you’re naked on his lap. Leaving marks where nobody else will see them. Grinding against your core even though he’s still dressed. Pulling endless moans out of you. Until he flips you onto your bag and pushes your legs open. He’s got his fingers inside you again and it’s nothing like the first time. Nothing like the gentle rhythm. He’s scissoring his fingers and pumping them quickly. He’s using this thumb to rub your clit. The stream of words coming out of your mouth is incomprehensible and you’re sure the people in the rooms on either side can hear you. You’re equally sure you don’t care.
It feels like record time when he’s coaxing your first orgasm out of you. Your whole body is sensitive and the waves continue to ripple through you. It doesn’t even feel like you’ve recovered from the first orgasm when you feel Soonyoung’s tongue run between your folds. He’s spreading your lips with his fingers and lapping into you.
“Soonyoung, fuck, oh my god,” you scream out.
He pops his head up from between your legs just long enough for a single question. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, fuck, please don’t,” you whine out and he’s between your legs again. 
You can’t even see straight but you’re sure that the sight of this man between your legs, tongue working you like he’s starving, is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His thumb rubs over your clit again and you arch into him. You move your hand into his hair to anchor him or yourself, you’re not sure. You’re oversensitive and overstimulated, but it’s the best kind of mix of pain and pleasure. There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes and you urge him on, beg him to keep going. 
The second orgasm rips through you even harder than the first and you’re screaming out your praise for him as he guides you through it. Once you come down, you feel him come up next to you and roll towards him. His lips are on yours in the next second and you can taste yourself on his tongue. You think you could kiss him for hours without getting bored or wanting to stop. Yet he pulls away from you entirely too soon. 
There’s confusion on your face as he gets out of the bed (and maybe a little bit of embarrassment that you’ve come twice and he’s still dressed). His eyes are on you as he strips himself out of his clothing before leaning over the bed. If you’re waiting for another kiss, you’re left waiting. He grabs behind your legs and pulls you to the edge. His eyes are full of fire, yet still checking to see if you’re okay. You ease any worries with a quick nod of your head. With that he pulls you up against him and kisses you quickly.
You’re so dazed that you don’t even realize he’s changing your position until you’re leaning over the edge of the bed with your ass in the air. He uses his foot to spread your legs apart so that he can line himself up. Even though you want to watch him, he presses between your shoulder blades so you’re leaning forward as much as possible. And maybe he’s got a point because the feeling of him pressing into you is so much better when you’re not watching him do it. 
This time, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to him, just immediately snaps his hips into you, burying his cock fully inside on the first thrust. Even though he’s being rougher, his praise is still constant. Still talking you through every moment. When he lifts one of your legs up so your knee is on the edge of the bed, you think you see stars at the new position. He’s hitting you so deep and filling you so completely that you’re not sure how you ever survived without him. Dramatic, you chastise yourself, but you’re a little beyond sex stupid right now. 
His fingers dig into your hips where he holds you in place, keeping up the pace that has your eyes watering yet again. You’re so sensitive and you’re sure you’re not going to come again. Until you feel the orgasm building and the pressure in your tummy. Until his own words become unintelligible, just a string of curses and praise. Until you hear yourself tell him that you’re gonna come again and feel his own release just after yours. 
Your legs feel like jelly as he guides you back into the bed and disappears for a towel. You can hear the water running just before he reappears to clean you up. It’s such a stark contrast from minutes earlier when he’s gentle with you again. It’s way too early to feel anything for him, you remind yourself again, but you also can’t pretend not to feel anything. 
Once he cleans himself up, he gets into the bed and tucks the two of you under the covers without bothering to get dressed. His arms circle you and you feel safe, like this. Wanted and special and right. The kiss he presses to your forehead almost makes you sigh.
“How are you?” he asks softly into your hair.
“Amazing? Perfect? I don’t even know,” you answer.
“But you’re okay,” he presses.
“No, I’m a lot better than okay,” you assure him. He must see your smile. 
“Me too,” he agrees.
You’re not sure what happens next or how you’re going to be able to make this work. Or if it’s even going to work. You’re not sure any of that matters because you have this night and you have Soonyoung, at least for now. Nothing else matters.
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thank you for reading, i hope you liked it 💕
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ash-says · 1 month
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Hush Hush Honey:
A guide on how to regulate oversharing and balancing the conversation flow.
Each one of us has at least been in a situation where we accidentally ended up spilling more than we should. We do recognise the patterns but are unable to control ourselves. That's why your girl Ash-says is here to say a lot about it.
1) Find the why
What are you trying to achieve by sharing that piece of information? Drama? Attention? Get it off your chest? Is it important to inform them? Is it valuable to them?etc.
First tackle the why. Before you go in to reveal something ask yourself if it goes with the conversation flow and if yes is it really important to share it.
2) Are you a celebrity?
No like why? Who is interested in your life so much? Are those people paparazzi to broadcast your current events and bring you fame? No right. So shut up.
3) Who puts their dirty laundry on display?
When you overshare you are basically putting all your secrets, stuff that you do or did on blatant exposure. People are going to judge you. That's the very nature. So breathe and keep it inside.
4) Try to listen more
Train yourself into listening more than speaking especially in group settings or around people that you don't know much about. Gossip is real. You don't want to be the next tea time sensation.
5) Alternatives for talkative people:
Now I know you might be thinking can't say this can't say that then how the hell am I going to bond with people or what should I converse about?
I have developed a solution for you. It's Ash verified because I myself have been using it unknowingly for around 7 years of my life.
Never open your mouth for passing judgements, expressing your opinions on things that do not relate to you, your dirty laundry, secrets, family issues, relationship issues, your sex life, your goals and aspirations, your daily routine, your political standpoint,etc you get where I am going right?
Instead speak about the experiences you had while travelling somewhere, some goofy stuff that happened to you, your harmless vice for example: I am clumsy so I have a lot of incidents that occur due to it which can be told in a funny way. It adds a nuance to my perfectionist image plus helps people warm up to me. Movie shows, songs, etc here also there's a catch if you relate to a show/song/ piece of literature strongly never reveal it. The smart ones will understand the inner workings of your mind.
Never let them know your next move.
If nothing of this then goof around being nonsense. Do little hand gestures, funny faces if you are bored but never overshare.
6) Be mindful of interruption
Practise practise practise. Literally that's the only way. Try not to interrupt people while speaking. There's no roundabout way. It is what it is.
7) Be comfortable in silence
You have to be okay with the conversation dying down. Running your mouth dry will only result in one sided convo. It's more useless and harmful than the one mentioned before.
8) Know your limits
Fix in your brain what you can share and what you can't. Stick to it. Even over your dead body.
9) Be genuinely interested in people
Ask yourself are you asking questions to really get to know the other person or just looking for a chance to talk about yourself? Dethrone yourself first and then interact with others.
10) Put out stuff that you are over with
Always remember what you say can and will be used against you. Drill it and from next time when you speak be mindful that every word can stand against you. Do you have the capacity to handle the consequences? Yes then go ahead. No, then stop live streaming.
Bonus point: Be as private as possible on social media. People don't need to know what you are doing nowadays. Privacy is power. What they don't know they can't ruin.
Strategically put things out. I am not saying be inactive. In Rome you live like the Romans. Do it smartly.
That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.
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sleekista · 5 months
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they’re idiots
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patri guijarro x fem!reader
request: here
A/N: i love patri sm, and again naturally if my writing needs to improve just gimme a shout
TW: mentions of panic attack
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The game was won, it was a very nice win. A comfortable 9-1, and that was fine. What wasn’t fine however were the fans after the game. In one area in particular they just kept throwing shirt and anything for us players to sign. I see Patri, my girlfriend getting frustrated at everything that’s happening and it doesn’t take a genius to see how overwhelmed she is.
Over the past few weeks it seems that the hate towards her has become obscurely large. How could anyone hate her? Especially now that she’s just gone and scored two. As much as she likes to say it doesn’t bother her I know it does and I hate to see the way she loses confidence over meaningless peoples opinions.
I walk over to the section in which fans are screaming, at this point i’m not sure how we can call them fans if they act like this. Alexia and some of the others are kicking game balls into the crowd. I stand right next to Patri, placing my hand on her lower back. She looks surprised, but continues with the overwhelming amount of fans who came to watch.
Around 5 minutes later, I can’t stand to watch her practically near a panic attack. So I say goodbye to the fans and drag her into the tunnel with me, leading her toward an area where no one would be for the time being.
“Patri? Amor, can you look at me?” I whisper, touching her forearm softly. She hesitates and looks up.
It’s then that I can see how conflicted her eyes look, how they’re slightly covered in a layer of tears, how it looks like she’s struggling to breathe. I immediately know what’s wrong.
“Hey, hey. Sit down on the floor with me. Come on.” I guide her making sure her back is rested against the wall. She looks straight up at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears at bay. My heart breaks a little.
“Amorcita, breathe with me. Feel my heartbeat got it?” I take her hand and place it on my heart as I start making exaggerated breathing patterns to help get her back to reality.
“There you go, just like that. You’re ok, they can’t see you. They can’t harm you. It’s just me.” I notice by her movements that she’s coming back. Something which I smile lightly at.
“Gracias” She says so lightly that I can barely hear her. All I do is smile.
We sit against the wall, no words need to be said. Until Alexia in all her glory strides down the hallway in her white fit.
“Hola.” She greets with a smile coming to stand in front of us.
“I suggest you two get back to the changing rooms. Nearly everyone is there, they sent me looking.” She then shifts her focus to my girlfriend.
“Patri, I’m sorry you have to be dealing with all of this stuff. It’s not easy. Just try not to get too worked up. Only makes it worse for yourself.”
“Thanks Ale.” She looks up at the captain who smiles before heading back to the change rooms.
“Well, we should probably go. After our showers, we’ll go back to the apartment and I’ll take your phone.” She looks at me questioningly. “So you don’t go into a spiral of bad thoughts. I know how you are. I won’t let that happen. Ok?” She nods and I pull her up heading back into the changing rooms. The girls all look happy but also worn down, I can empathise with that from all the trainings and games we’ve done.
Still there is a slight buzz in the air after the impressive win. Even if some exhaustion is the cost.
- - - - -
When Patri and I arrive back home, I stick to my word and she hands me her phone reluctantly. I put both of our phones in my bedside drawer and arrive in the living room to be greeted with Patri on the couch, two glasses of water on the coffee table and one of the Hunger Games movies starting to play on the tv.
I walk over smiling and sit down on the couch cuddling into Patri who only smiles. This is a good way to end the day all things considered.
“Te amo, Patri.”
“Yo también te amo, cariño.” She kisses the top of my head, turning her focus back to the screen.
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hai7ani · 10 months
Text
WHAT'S A HEART WORTH? haitani rindou
nsfw (smut) mdni, nothing happens
home collection | playlist
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part i / my baby here on earth, showed me what my heart was worth.
Rindou does not understand why people would not want to go home after work.
Like the accountant who stays at the office long after clock out hour. He's finishing up someone else's paperwork willingly while actively ignoring the constant buzz of his phone that lights up a photo of a woman showing up peace signs paired with a beautiful smile which only says 'girl[space]friend' but not her name. He shuts off his phone and continues his paperwork instead of heading home (and also earning free OT cash that he'll probably just spend on some Asahi during payday) . . .
Or the newlywed who slips off the silver band on his ring finger and greets the receptionist with a bright smile -- Ishikawa-san, or Riko-chan, as he likes to call her -- the moment he steps into the front doors of the office. He enjoys leaning on the counter and telling her about the plans he and his friends have made for her that night on a random morning while stuffing the promise with his wife deep into the pocket of his perfectly ironed suit.
"Work's been rough lately, ya wanna grab a drink? Release some steam? Oh, it's just a few of us guys who are my friends, and you. Bring some of your friends as well, yeah? Please come, treat's on us. We're going to Shangri-La after work, 'kay?"
It's especially the father with a polaroid of his 6 year old son and 11 year old daughter that both are not smiling in tucked away in his wallet who rushes off to an izakaya or some club somewhere in the middle of Kabukichō straight after work with a bunch of his lame and nasty ol' colleagues who are somehow also married men. Just drinking and smoking the night away with dirty minds that think of nothing but sticking their dicks into the pussies of younger, sweeter women working by the bar.
While Haitani Rindou is on his way to clock in to work, he passes by the reception table. Ishikawa-san sees him and gives a small bow with a professional smile, before swiftly returning to the conversation with the newlywed. She bends over the desk and starts fiddling with the bright orange tie hanging off the newlywed's collar. There's a name-tag pinned to his tie that reads Ito Haruki.
Ito-kun, or as Ishikawa-san likes to call him -- Haruki-senpai -- is leaning his head on his left arm, cheek squashed a little as he's shamelessly ogling at the loose button that's about to burst open on Ishikawa-san's blouse.
There's a few people in line ahead of Rindou who are clocking in as well. He supposes it is no harm to listen in on their conversation. They weren't even trying to be discreet about it, anyway.
"It's a nice tie, senpai. Where'd you get it from?"
Rindou catches the sudden change in Ito Haruki's demeanour. "Oh. Just . . . Went out shopping last weekend and got it for myself. Looks real nice, ain't it?"
Liar.
Rindou and you were out shopping two weeks ago when he spots the same man holding the hand of his new bride as they went searching for neckties together in the Aeon department store. "I think this'll look great on you, Haruki, no?" His wife brings the displayed tie up to his neck and smile.
"Looks bomb, honey."
When admiring himself in the mirror, he sees the B&M department's Haitani Rindou looking at him from behind. The two men catches eye in the reflection. Ito-kun was sweating buckets, afraid of getting his cover blown off, but you suddenly tugged on Rindou's sleeve, breaking his attention and asking for his opinion on the dress that you were looking to buy for work.
He turns around and leaves with you, not looking at Ito-kun nor his wife as he pretends like he doesn't know the married couple in the same store shopping for neckties, nor the scandalous, nasty things the husband has been doing at work.
And right now, while he's waiting in line to clock in for work, he's still pretending like he knows nothing. There's no point in saying he knows Ito's lying, anyway. It doesn't benefit him one bit.
But to Ito Haruki, Rindou running his mouth to people and letting everyone find out he's been married this whole time to a woman he does not love . . .
And letting his wife find out he has been openly bringing women and girls to hotel rooms and screwing them with his mates behind her back.
It's a risk he cannot take.
Ito-kun who is now standing tall and straight calls out to Rindou, seemingly trying to butter his colleague up to keep his mouth shut. If he starts getting close with me, there's no way he'll snitch. He'll understand.
"Yo, Haitani. Ya free tonight? We're going up to Shangri-La with a few of my friends in Chiyoda. We're having a few ladies over as well, if yer' interested." Ito-kun wiggles his eyebrows and Ishikawa-san stifles a laugh with the back of her hand.
Rindou does not spare both of them a glance.
"I'm married."
He says it like it's meant to be. He's a married man who's actually a decent human being with bills to pay, love to give and a wife to go home to. You just wouldn't understand. And he moves forward with his hands tucked into his pockets.
"Tch, fuckin' snob. He's married? So am-" Haruki stops himself from running his mouth any further with a cough. "Who does he think he is? Just 'cause he's on the line for some promotion? I can do better than him, can't I, Riko-chan? I'm in HR, after all."
"Of course you can, Haruki-senpai. You're the best, after all . . . At all things."
With their lewd whispering and hushed laughters echoing in the space behind him, he slots his employee card into the machine and thinks of all the married men with a wife and children waiting for them to come home and watch Why Did You Come to Japan? on the TV together.
Haitani Rindou could never understand them.
And perhaps it's just him . . .
Guess it really is just him.
Him who thinks there's nothing more relieving than going straight home to his wife, his family, instead of wasting another second at work talking to idiots he don't share the same interests and can never communicate with.
They disgust him.
Working a 9-5 itself is already tiring, so why choose to cause himself more suffering by willingly spending time with literal failed fucking nutjobs who don't respect their family, or anyone, in that matter. He thinks its rather pointless to be with them when he can be at home with you.
At home.
With you.
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At home is kicking off his expensive Jimmy Choo's that you bought for him with your last paycheck by the entrance and throwing his goddamned briefcase on the counter, followed by his car keys (a Mazda) and the resident's keycard.
At home is saying ただいま and seeing your figure still clad in your work clothes and an apron, standing in the kitchen stirring up a boiling pot of his favourite miso soup with curry cooking on the stove beside you. It's nothing misogynistic or anything -- Rindou can cook fairly well himself. There's just an unspoken rule between the two of you where whoever comes home first makes dinner. Both of you are working adults in damned Tokyo with a workplace culture of utter hell and bullshit, so it's not everyday you get to go out for dinner at some fancy restaurant downtown. Plus, there's something about cooking and eating dinner together with him that makes you so happy.
Rindou eyes the mat you're standing on and sighs a breath of relief.
"Baby," you call from the kitchen and he makes his way over to you sluggishly. "Taste." you feed him a spoon of the flavourful soup and he smacks his lips. Once, twice.
". . . Needs a little more salt." He reaches for the sodium and you take one sip yourself, "yeah, 's kinda dull."
You see him shake the salt container a bit before pushing you back behind him and grabbing the spoon in your hand to stir the soup. He makes sure you're still standing on the mat.
"Can you help me add more wakame? Been cravin' it a lot lately." He simply hums and tears open another packaging of the wakame on the countertop and throws it in.
And you simply let him take control, opting to step back and take this moment to watch -- or more like ogle, -- at your husband with the sleeves of his stripped Uniqlo dress-shirt rolled up to his elbows, the back of it messily tucked in his pants, and the gelled hairstyle you combed for him this morning nowhere in sight. You also smell the remains of tobacco on him -- he's been smoking again.
You furrow your brows at your latest observation, though you can't deny it's pretty endearing to see him like this.
Completely, utterly at home. And absolutely yours.
You're also sure now -- that watching him like this definitely makes you happy. Domestic and comfortable.
"Yeah, this tastes better." He turns to cup a palm under your chin and feeds you a spoon of miso. A drop falls onto his palm and he simply wipes it off on a washcloth. You hum, it does taste better. "Thanks, Chef Rin." He finishes off the soup you didn't manage to and throws the spoon in the sink to wash later.
He pinches your nose, pulls you by your neck to get you closer, and places a kiss on the crown of your head before pulling open the fridge. It's also one of his ways of saying he's home other than the usual greeting of ただいま.
You giddily lean against the kitchen island, untying the apron and laying it beside you. A pout suddenly forms at your lips and you blow raspberries while slowly unbuttoning the top of your dress, finally able to catch a break and get rid of the uncomfortable clothing.
Rindou looks back at you from your reaction and you tell without him asking.
"My clothes' gettin' tight. Hate it so much."
"We'll go shopping this weekend."
You nod, and he turns back to the fridge, though from the corner of your eye you see that he's been bowing down and staring at the shelves a little too long.
"Wha-"
"Where'd my KitKat go?"
Your fingers pause in their actions.
It's kinda funny how a simple question of your husband suspecting the whereabouts of his chocolate snack bar can make your mind travel to two nights back. It was on Monday at 2:41am when you'd snuck out of bed (out of his arms), and stole his last remaining KitKat in the fridge.
Rindou looks at you and you look back at him.
"Dunno."
Thief.
" . . . I wonder where's the Buenos I bought-"
Not the Buenos.
And suddenly you find yourself clinging for dear life onto your husband, with the best puppy eyes you can muster glossily looking up at him as if you're secretly trying to convey a message, to which he only scoffs at and starts peeling your arms off him.
"Baby, baby. Anythin' but the Buenos. They're mine."
"So was my KitKat."
"You can't blame me! It just looked so delicious I had to absolutely devour it-"
"-the damn Buenos are mine now."
"No."
.
.
.
You spend the next 20 minutes bickering with him about who holds final custody over the bag of mini Buenos sitting in the fridge. He reasons that because you ate his kitkat, and he was also the one who bought the Buenos for you, that he gets to keep it now. You argue that the fucking KitKat was hypnotising you into eating it, resulting in him losing his last KitKat bar because of the KitKat itself, and not because of you, that you get to keep your Buenos that he bought for you all to yourself and he gets nothing in compensation.
You both end up fucking in the bathtub afterwards.
"You're too noisy."
Gasp. Moan. Whimper.
"So are you."
Scratch. Squeeze. Bite.
Rindou is gentle when he holds you as you slowly regain your senses and shift to a more comfortable position. His dick is soft against your thigh and you help him wash off the sticky fluid.
You feel him growing hard again in your hand as he presses a kiss to your cheek and you curl the other arm around his neck.
He helps you align yourself with him and there's a soft blush on your cheeks when he bottoms out, "doc' said it's good, right?" "Yeah."
Yup, Doctor Fujita’s words is absolutely the reason why you’re spending the next hour making love with your husband in the bathtub.
(You just love him so much.)
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It's later that night, after you've both finished your little session in the shower and dinner when Rindou brings up a topic neither of you have ever discussed about in the whole three years of your marriage.
He slaps your thigh, telling you to scoot over on the couch and immediately drops down next to you (or more like on top of you) when all you've made was just about a centimetre of space for him. A literal half of his body is on top of your legs, crushing down your thighs and you bite his bulky bicep in retaliation with a quiet asshole coming out of your mouth, trying your hardest to crawl your way out under his heavy, muscular body (that was an overstatement -- he just got back up and waited for you to move over so he could sit down properly). He hisses while rubbing the area you bit and simply stares at you in amusement.
Though annoying, he's careful with your body. He's made sure not to be rough with you and his orbs scans over your form to make sure you're not actually in pain.
You lift your legs up to rest in his lap and he moves his hands to massage your feet. You've been complaining about having feet pain lately, and it's probably one of the many side effects. He makes it a mental note to do research on it and how to help you feel better.
When he sees that you're sitting comfortably and back to focusing on the show playing on the TV screen again, he decides to fire the shot.
"I'm gonna quit my job." Rindou bluntly states.
All that shit in his mundane ass voice too: the one he uses when he's still an immature, younger and grouchier version of himself, fighting with opponents that don't impress him.
You hurriedly press pause on the remote to the show you're currently watching,
How to Get Away with Murder.
and you stare at him blankly.
You might start taking actual notes from Annalise Keating-san, you think.
"What?" You try retracting your legs away from him but his grip is tight as he continues massaging your ankle. You're not in the mood anymore, but it feels comfortable, so you leave them there.
"I'ma quit my job." Rindou closes his eyes and rests his head back on the soft beneath.
"Why?"
"One, 'm sick of it. Two, 's not what I like. Three, my boss' an asshole . . . So I'm quitting."
"And what will you do afterwards?"
"Gonna stay home."
"And?"
"Tsk. What? I've made 'nuff to support us for at least, what, like 20 years. Les' jus' stay home, smoke weed, I'll maybe start to DJ again. Or if you don't wanna, fine. We'll jus' book a one way to Switzerland or like, I don't know, fucking Canada or something and never come back. Heard from a few of the guys in my department 's cheap living there. And there's Singapore too, which is family friendly, I might look into it. What do you think?"
A beat.
And another.
The both of you break into a fit of laughter and you don't stop after . . . three minutes, to be exact.
It's unrealistic for an average salaryman in this economy to be earning an income enough to support his family for 20 years after without a job. Even 10 years is over-exaggerating. It's even more unrealistic that it's happening in Tokyo. In Rindou's case, an average Japanese salaryman who works in a position in his company which handles business and marketing. What made you laugh even harder is the fact Rindou had just brought up three major, rich and expensive countries in the world as cheap places to live in as a family.
The guy you married deserves a beating right now. Maybe another bite, too. This time at the shoulder. Who knows?
You crawl into his lap and squint your eyes, "you sound like you're asking to be single right now. Weed? With me right now? You're definitely asking for it."
"Was jus' jokin', baby. Never doin' that again. Don't divorce me."
"Thought your stupid ass could fool me? Thought you were still 18? You're not funny. You're quitting an office job in this economy, and you're- you're tellin' me, to stay home with you 'n," you pause to laugh, "'n to smoke weed 'n DJ with your ass."
He lands his palms on your hips and rubs up and down affectionately, "’Think I'm funny? At least I think I am," His thumbs subconsciously move to your stomach and traces soft circles on the skin.
"You are. Kinda." You comb through his soft hair with your fingers and push them back. He's smirking now. "Was not lyin' when I said I hate my fuckin' job. Guess I could turn to stand-up comedy if smoking weed and being an at-home DJ doesn't work out."
"I'll kill you."
Rindou brings out another fit of giggles in you and when it slowly dies down, you gaze into his purple orbs with a soft smile.
You cup both hands on his cheeks, "don't smoke so much, baby." You peck his lips twice before moving to smooch his cheeks. "'S bad for me."
"Yeah, sorry. Couldn't help it." Rindou blinks tiredly at your form and wraps you in his arms, his head moving down lower to rest on your chest, placing soft kisses at the tender, soft mounds. He suddenly remembers you've also been complaining about having some breast changes too. He's gotta bring that up to Fujita-san in the next visit, along with your feet issue.
“When’s your next appointment with Fujita again?”
“This Friday at 3. I’m taking the half day off to go, are you coming?”
Rindou is silent as he goes over his schedule for Friday in his head and- Fuck. He’s got an important meeting at 2 that doesn’t end till 4.
“I don’t think I can make it.” You hum softly, “it’s okay. I’ll call you.” Your fingers move to tangle themselves in his purple locks.
“I’ll try to come after I finish my meeting, so remember to tell her about your feet. That could be serious. Your breasts too.” “Okay.”
Rindou stares at your growing stomach, and relishes in how you've been getting more and more pretty each day with the love of you two combined and forming within you. (You've always been pretty. Just extra pretty when you're pregnant with his baby.)
You're aware of how he's been getting stressed out lately. Workload's been piling up, and with the current ongoing promotion offer that he's been nominated for, you know Rindou's just had to work extra harder, put in a little more effort. After all, a promotion in his company is no joke, whether it's a shit company or not. A huge incentive in his salary that can cover a lot more things like saving up for your baby's future education, some personal savings, emergency funds, and being able to invest in safer furnitures in the house to protect you -- his pregnant wife, and soon, the baby. He'll also get more authority in his company, which can lead to having more connections that will ultimately help him create more opportunities in life.
Your husband is a hard-worker. Not so much in his teenage years, perhaps, but he definitely is one now in the present, and you know he can never pass up an opportunity for a raise. After all, things are getting expensive, and raising a child with you in this city isn't anywhere near cheap.
He's past that life, he once swore to you. All the fighting and the drinking and the clubbing; behind alleyways and high up in the skyscrapers where he and Ran would be busy blowing his fathers' money off back in his city, the 2000s Roppongi with many people that he never contacts anymore. Not even Shion, but you know Rindou misses him a lot. They were best friends after all. You've watched them both grow up together from boys to men since you were kids.
"Rindou?" He hums. You press your thumb into a sore spot on his shoulder that he never told you about and you feel him relaxing under your touch.
"Les' go somewhere together, when you're done with your promotion. I'll jus' get some time off sayin' I'm too pregnant, or somethin'. They'll understand. Unlike you, the people at work actually likes me." You suggest, and he pinches your thigh. "You gettin' smug?" "Kinda."
Rindou laughs into your neck. "Yeah, 'kay. Where you wanna go?"
"'Was thinkin' of Hokkaido. I've never been there before," your pointer finger traces random twirly shapes onto his bare back. "Oh, maybe you could take me to Taiwan. One of the girls at work went with her hubby once 'n she said 's real nice there. Please, baby."
"But international flights are expensive right now. You sure you wanna go overseas?"
Crystals start to form at the corners of your eyes and your nose is getting red. "Really wanna go."
This pregnancy is gonna turn him into a saint. "'Kay, babe. Taiwan it is. We'll go to Taiwan, yeah? Don't cry." He kisses your lips. And he does it again and again until you stop sniffling. He wipes away your tears, too. And he pulls back to look at you. All pouty and gorgeous in his arms.
Haitani Rindou sits in the living room with his pregnant wife on his lap rambling his ear off about the cool things one of the girls at work saw in Taipei and he's left dumbfounded because . . .
The men at work? They're never going to experience this kind of life. The domesticity with you. The soft kisses shared before you fall asleep together in bed. The kisses placed on your belly when the baby's kicking a little too hard and you can't sleep. And soon he's going to feel a new type of warmth blossoming in his chest where he comes home after getting asked to go to fucking Shangri-La again, and sees you feeding your baby milk on the couch, waiting for him. Excited to share a new story about what happened with you and your baby earlier.
"She just said her first word, Rin." "What?" "C'mon, say it for your papa, now." The baby wiggles around in her mother's arms and looks at her father, who is now hovering over her and has a warm hand placed on the back of her head. She blinks, and smiles. "Ba-ba."
And suddenly he feels like the happiest man alive.
"Thank you."
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reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading ≽ܫ≼
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