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#the living room is a disaster because of how they decided to arrange it it's so weird the tv is like right in front of the sofa
daedrabela · 1 year
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SO ALL NIGHT FOR THE PAST FEW DAYS I KEEP FLICKING LITTLE ANTS OFF OF ME WHILE I'M GAMING AND I KEEP THINKING IT'S JUST THE SAME ONES OVER AND OVER
WELL I JUST FUCKING LOOKED OVER AT MY TOMIE LAMP AND THESE FUCKERS HAVE THE THING COLONIZED THEY'VE GOT EGGS AND SHIT AND THEY'RE ALL BUNCHED TOGETHER
SO I FREAK OUT BECAUSE THERE'S TOO MANY BUGS IN ONE SMALL PLACE FOR MY LIKING AND WE GET THEM VACUUMED UP
I'M SNIPPY WITH HIM BECAUSE HE'S SLACKING ON GETTING THE VACUUM TO ME QUICKLY BECAUSE AS SOON AS I TURNED THE LAMP OFF THEY STARTED TO SCATTER
AND I'M ALREADY SPIRALING BECAUSE THE SPARE ROOM IS FULL OF SHIT AND I'M SICK OF LIVING LIKE THIS AND THEN!!!!
THEN!!!!!! THIS GUY ASKS ME "you know what bugs me?" BITCH IT'S TAKING EVERYTHING I HAVE NOT TO THROW HANDS WITH ANYTHING IN SIGHT RIGHT NOW YOU CAN'T JUST SAY SHIT
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percervall · 6 months
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it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 1
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Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: smut, dirty talk, mild degrading, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, fingering, slight nipple play, hinting at m/m, mentions of free use, *gasp* and they were room mates Word count: 1.9k
Part 1 of the Fuck It series
The arrangement was, frankly, absurd. Had the offer come from anyone other than Jenson, you would have kicked them so hard they wished you had punched them instead. Part of you hoped he would have forgotten what he had said while heavily under the influence of too much champagne, but luck was not on your side. 
"Have you thought about my offer?" Jenson asks, innocently blowing on his coffee, making you choke on air. 
"The offer in which I pay my rent by, wait let me check my notes. Ah, yes, 'fucking you'," you reply, voice a lot steadier than you feel. Because truth be told, it had been impossible to not fantasise about getting railed into next week by him- by any of them. Oh, you were well aware of how much your life had become the plot of a rom-com ever since your landlord decided to be an absolute greedy bastard. Become a live-in house sitter for 4 millionaires they said, it'll be fun they said. Liars.
"Oh come on, it'll be mutually beneficial," Jenson argued. 
"Proud of you for using your big boy words, pretty boy but how exactly is this gonna end up in anything other than disaster?" 
"He's hungover and a himbo, why are you bullying him?" Mark mutters, voice still rough with sleep as he literally picks you up and unceremoniously plops you down on top of the counter. There are days where you curse your small stature and his strength, especially when it leaves your brain stuttering to process getting manhandled. 
"We'll set rules. All I'm saying is we're all adults-.." You can't help but snort at that. "Fine, whatever. I'm just saying that I've seen the way you look at them, seen the way your eyes flash with lust and I am pretty sure some truly filthy fantasies, and I know I can speak for all four of us when I say we would love to help you realise those. Also, we don't need your rent money and this is just so much more fun." Well then. You just got read for filth before even having had your morning coffee. Fuck him for seeing right through you. 
"Where's your sense of adventure, nena?" Fernando comments, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Right next to my 'I survived Multi-21' t-shirt," you mutter. It's a low blow, but getting bullied into sleeping with four drivers makes it hard to think.
Mark shoots you a look, eyebrow raised. 
"The mouth on you," he comments, "Seb was very apologetic. Made it up to me in the best possible way. In fact, I should make you apologise to the both of us the same way, sweetheart. On your knees." He whispers the last part in your ear and you cannot contain the whimper that comes out at his thinly veiled threat.
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being made to kneel and take cock like the good little girl you are, hm?” 
“Mark-..” You have no idea how to respond to that and keep your dignity in tact. You try to look away but Mark takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb.
“I asked you a question sweetheart. Are you gonna be a good girl for us?” His thumb tugs on your bottom lip and all rational thought leaves you as you nod. 
“Mm, knew JB was right about you. Takes one to know one, I suppose.” You can hear a muffled what the fuck’s that supposed to mean? from the living room as Mark helps you down from the counter. You hadn’t even noticed the McLaren teammates had left the kitchen until just now. 
“On your knees, sweetheart,” Mark nudges you and you sink down onto the floor. The small kitchen runner is the only thing protecting your knees from the cold hardwood floor, but the prospect of sore knees is quickly forgotten now that you’re at eye level with Mark’s crotch. You can clearly see the outline of his hardening cock against his shorts and it has your mouth watering. Mark chuckles as he notices the hunger in your eyes.
“You’re lucky Seb is out for a run. Or maybe I’m the lucky one, getting to fuck this mouth all by myself.” The whimper you let out is involuntarily as you eagerly watch him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down far enough to free his cock. You scoot a little closer, taking him in your hand, tongue darting out to lick away the bead of pre-cum. Mark hisses, head thrown back and that’s all the encouragement you need to suck the tip into your mouth. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, sounding absolutely wrecked already despite you not even having done anything yet. 
“You said something about fucking my mouth?” Mark looks down at you, pupils completely blown and he grins so wickedly, it leaves you breathless. 
“Are you absolutely sure sweetheart?” As you nod in response, he gathers your hair into a ponytail in his fist, angling your face. “Alright then. Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much and I will stop, okay?” 
“Okay,” you parrot, and move your legs apart ever so slightly to stabilise yourself. Mark drags the tip of his cock across your lips and you open up for him. He slides in, careful to not immediately choke you. You relax your jaw as much as you can, but god it’s been so long since you last did this. Mark sets a slow rhythm, letting the both of you adjust. Looking up at him through your lashes, you can see how he’s trying to hold on to the last shreds of self control, and well. That just won’t do. 
“Mark,” you say, slightly out of breath as you pull back, “you taunted me with using me. So for the love of God, fucking use me.” Mark chuckles and the sound has you aching. He tightens his grip on your hair and slides his cock back into your mouth. Resting your hands on his thighs, you close your eyes as he finally delivers on his promise. The sounds are obscene and if you had a functioning brain cell left, you would have been concerned about the two of you doing this in the kitchen, but as things stand, the only thing you can focus on is Mark’s throbbing cock inching down your throat. Forcing yourself to open your eyes, you look at him as you swallow around him. 
“Fuck. Fuck. I’m not gonna last, sweetheart,” he groans, pulling back. You hollow your cheeks while taking deep breaths through your nose, pulling another string of curses from the Aussie. You can feel his cock throb as he grunts above you.
“Gonna-.. Fuck.. So good, you feel so fucking good..” he mumbles, and throws his head back as he comes. 
“You better not swallow, Schatzi,” comes a voice from the doorway. Who are you to disobey? Mark pulls out carefully, tucking himself back into his shorts while Sebastian helps you up from the floor. He carries you bridal style into the living room, placing you down on the couch next to Fernando. 
“Show Nando, baby,” Sebastian all but coos and you carefully open your mouth. The underlying relationships? Questionmark? between your housemates makes your head spin, but judging by the way Fernando’s eyes darken, Sebastian knows something about the Spaniard you don’t. 
“Can I kiss you, nena?” he asks and all you can do is nod. Fernando cradles your cheek, pressing an almost chaste kiss against your lips before he runs his tongue over the seam of your lips. The moan he lets out as he tastes Mark on your tongue has you throbbing. When you break apart to catch some air, Sebastian leans closer and licks away the few drops of cum that spilled when Fernando kissed you. Am I dreaming? you can’t help but wonder. Out loud apparently.
“Very much awake, doll,” Jenson grins as he kneels in front of you, “Something tells me you’re absolutely soaking. Mind if I give a hand? I do so love making people come with my mouth,” he adds and you’re quick to raise your hips so he can pull down your panties, much to Jenson’s amusement. He pushes your oversized shirt up higher and parts your legs. Sebastian moves your face so he can steal a kiss and you moan into his mouth as Jenson drags the flat of his tongue over your oh so sensitive clit. Their hands are everywhere it feels like. You’re pretty sure Fernando has one up your shirt, teasing your nipple while he kisses your neck. Jenson’s are curled around the inside of your thighs as he holds you open for him while Sebastian has one hand on your cheek as he kisses you; the other mirrors Fernando’s. Needing something to hold on to, you bury a hand in Jenson’s hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning against your cunt as you tug. Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back with a moan of your own while you grind against Jenson’s tongue. 
“Need.. Fingers.. Please, Jenson, need your-.. Fuck, oh God..” Despite your incoherent state, Jenson understands what it is you’re asking of him as he carefully slides two of his long fingers inside of you. Sebastian and Fernando manage to strip you of your t-shirt, both of them taking a nipple into their mouth. 
“I’m so-.. So close.. I’m gonna cum, please can I cum?” you whimper. Fernando mutters a yes against your skin and something snaps; Your back arches as your orgasm hits you and for a moment you forget how to breathe. The loss of Jenson’s fingers makes you whine but your housemates more than make up for it when Fernando grabs his wrist in order to bring Jenson’s fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tastes you. 
“Just as I thought, you taste delicious nena,” the Spaniard comments with a grin. These men will be the death of me, you can’t help but think while Seb accepts the glass of water Mark hands him. The German driver helps you take a few sips as you slowly return into your body. Something tells you that this only scratches the surface of their underlying dynamics and you are dying to delve deeper.
“Told you it’d be mutually beneficial,” Jenson jokes, pulling you from your thoughts. 
“God, I hate that I’m saying this because your ego is fucking big enough as is-,” you start only for Jenson to interrupt with a that’s not the only thing that’s big, doll which makes you roll your eyes.
“I was gonna agree to your plan, idiot. You proved your point. Twice over. I- eh.. I can see the appeal,” you continue before downing the last of the water. The four men share a look that you can’t quite decipher and it makes you wonder: just what did you exactly sign up for? You pull your shirt back on, suddenly very aware of the fact you’re naked, needing something to act as a barrier between you and this crazy idea. 
“How about we discuss the details after breakfast? Don’t know about you, but I am starving,” Mark breaks the silence. You nod gratefully and let Sebastian pull you to your feet. A part of you is excited to see where this.. arrangement will lead you, but you’re also apprehensive that you might be about to bite off far more than you can chew. 
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Welp. Here we go I guess. Updates are gonna be slow on this, so please temper your expectations. Ideas have been brain stormed, things are brewing in the ol' noggin, I just gotta write it 🥲
Massive shoutout to @curiousthyme and @feralnando for helping me brain rot about this and for holding my hand while I descent even further into chaos. This whole part was written while listening to Hozier's Too Sweet and Ethel Cain's Gibson Girl on repeat, so feel free to do with that information as you please
Please let me know what you think. Your comments, likes and tags mean the world to me 💜
taglist
@2pagenumb @dannyramirezwife @daydreaminlewis @emlynblack @forza55 @jaimeleannavanlloman @mehrmonga  @szobosz @raizelchrysanderoctavius @whoreforeveryon
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flowerandblood · 1 year
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Flower and Blood (Oneshot)
[modern! • Aemond Targaryen x female]
[warnings: kissing, menstruation and bleeding, fluff]
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[description: A small house party is organized in the Targaryen house, during which the siblings and their friends play board games. Helaena takes her friend who is having her first "women's days". At one point, she states with embarrassment, that she has bloodied her seat, and her in-game partner, Aemond, who has hardly spoken to her until now, tries to help her (Anon Request).]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
_____
From the morning she felt that something bad was happening to her. She woke up all sore and without strength, she couldn't concentrate on anything during class, her stomach hurt.
It wasn't until she went to the toilet during a break and saw specks of blood on the panty liner that she realized she had gotten her period earlier than usual this month.
She sighed heavily when she saw this. Fortunately, she always carried a few sanitary napkins in her backpack, just in case, she or her friends often came in handy. Disheartened, she thought it was going to be a terrible day, and her friend Helaena invited her to her house. She said that her brother Aegon had the idea to do a game night, and since they both loved games like this she immediately agreed.
Now, without pills and with disaster looming, she didn't know what to do. When she told Helaena what was happening she looked at her understandingly, rummaged in her bag and took out a sheet of pills.
"Buy yourself a tea from the vending machine and swallow it. These are strong antispasmodics, you should feel better in a few minutes." She said gently. She wanted to kiss her hands for the help, her ovaries throbbing like crazy in pain.
Indeed, after an hour the pain in her lower abdomen had eased. She thought that aside from the constant, disgusting feeling of bleeding, she felt a little better. Their house was not far from her dormitory, so she decided that even if she felt worse during the party, she would just walk home.
When they entered their house, several people were already there. Aegon greeted them with a smile in the hallway, hugging her and his sister. The two had seen each other several times before.
She knew Aegon liked a good time, alcohol, and women. Sometimes too much. He seemed to know that neither of them were their type, and he didn't force himself on her. Instead, he brought three of his female friends, apparently from his year.
There were two other boys besides them - Criston, their longtime friend, and Aemond, the youngest of the siblings. She spoke to him the least, because he didn't speak much. She had seen how many times girls forced him to talk, and he looked away, desperate and bored.
She wasn't going to force herself on him. She liked him, because he was concrete and rather gentle in his manner, even though he communicated practically only in grunts.
She greeted everyone in turn. As she and Aemond embraced lightly, she smelled some nice male perfume that made her nose twitch. She looked at him with a smile at the thought. He released her, looking away, turning his attention to his sister.
After they determined that everyone was assembled, they entered the living room where boxes of games were spread on the floor and large, multi-colored, bright pillows on which they were apparently supposed to sit. She sat on one of them, right next to Helaena. Aegon's friend sat next to Aemond, Aegon, Criston and two other girls next to each other.
They started with Rummikub. The game was about arranging tiles with numbers, in a logical, mathematical sequence. They could be numbers in order, their multiples by multiplication, addition or subtraction as well as by colors.
She loved this game, it required a lot of cleverness and adapting to what others had already put together. She fought for the win with Criston, but finally fell.
Aegon announced that it's time for cartoon puns. He said that to make it easier to come up with something quickly they would pair up. He dropped two colored pawns for each team into the bag and shuffled them around, passing them to each of them.
She slid her hand inside, pausing there for a while, and pulled out a blue pawn. She looked around and saw that Aemond was spread out on his pillow, propped up on his elbow, staring at her intently, playing with a pawn of the same color between his fingers.
She smiled at him and got up from her seat, sitting cross-legged on the pillow next to him. After the draw, it turned out that two of Aegon's friends were in a group with each other, the third with Aegon himself, and Helaena and Criston were together. Aegon handed out all the small whiteboards and erasable markers as well as cards with slogans.
Aemond and she glanced at theirs and saw that "The Little Prince" was written on it. The password, of course, referred to the book of the same title. They looked at each other surprised.
"I know that book." She said quickly.
"Me too." He said low, rubbing his chin, she was surprised at how deep his voice was. "But I'm wondering how to present it so that they understand right away."
She twisted uneasily in place and jumped, pulling the cap off the marker. She began to draw a simple rose under a shade, with lots of smaller ones around it.
"Yeah, yeah, very good idea" He said suddenly, and she was amused to hear a note of excitement in his voice.
They had to wait their turn. First, Criston and Helaena showed their sign. A bouquet of flowers and a man with a palette were drawn on it.
"Vincent van Gogh?" She asked uncertainly aloud, and Helaena clapped her hands.
"Yes!" She said happily.
She smiled at Aemond and made a dash on the side of their slate to indicate that they had just scored one point. Then it was Aegon and his friend's turn. They turned the tablet over and for a moment everyone wondered what it represented.
"That thing next to this boy and girl is a dog?" Aemond asked uncertainly.
Aegon nodded. Seeing that no one came up with any idea, he drew something quickly for the boy in his drawing. Criston leaned closer, frowning.
"Why does he have such weird teeth? Isn't it about Twilight?" He asked, and Aegon jumped happily.
"Yes!!!" He said, erasing his drawing, he and his friend high fived each other.
It was her and Aemond's turn. She turned over their slate, and they all looked at her curiously.
"Beauty and the Beast?" Helaena asked, and she shook her head. She took the slate, quickly drawing a moon and a boy on it. She turned the board around to face them again.
"Dreamworks Studio?" Aegon asked. She and Aemond cursed under their breath, shaking their heads. They looked at each other, wondering what to do.
"Maybe draw Little Prince and a fox." Aemond suggested quietly.
She jumped in her seat, delighted with his idea, and nodded quickly, drawing a figure of Little Prince in his trademark cloak and fox. She turned the slate over and Helaena clapped her hands together, trying to remember something quickly.
"Wait, wait, what was the name of that book… The Little Prince!" She said finally.
"Yes, bravo!" She said cheerfully, proud of the fact that they managed to present such a non-obvious password and book. He and Aemond exchanged a satisfied look.
Now it was the turn of two of Aegon's friends. They showed their slate, but she couldn't concentrate, feeling something was wrong. She turned around, wondering what it was. She thought she felt an unpleasant wetness between her thighs, but that was normal during her period. She shifted slightly on her pillow and froze, looking down. She saw the blood.
She looked helplessly around the room and looked at Helaena, wanting to draw her gaze to herself. She was too busy guessing to see it. She felt her heart pounding, her cheeks flushed with shame. She felt like she was about to cry.
Helpless and unsure of what to do, she grabbed Aemond's sleeve. He looked at her surprised and seeing her expression raised his eyebrows.
"Everything's all right?" He asked softly and she shook her head. She pursed her lips.
"I think I just bled your pillow." She whispered in shame, her voice trembling slightly as she looked pleadingly at him. His pupils dilated and he looked down at her thighs.
"Fuck." He said quietly, glancing at everyone around, who was still trying to guess. He looked like he was thinking very hard right now.
"Get up as usual and go to the bathroom, I'll turn the pillow and then take care of it. Will you need something to change?" He asked quietly, and she nodded quickly, trying not to cry in front of him. Her expression caught Helaena's attention.
"Everything's all right?" She asked gently.
"Y-yes, thank you." She said, not wanting to draw more attention to herself than necessary.
She got up on shaky legs, wanting to move to the other room as quickly as possible, Aemond immediately grabbed a pillow. One of Aegon's friends, the one who had sat next to Aemond earlier, must have seen the bloodstain, because she said:
"Oh, someone here isn't pregnant. Let's drink to that!" She said cheerfully, holding up her beer.
She felt her face turn pale, humiliated, all eyes were suddenly turned her way. Criston and Aegon looked at her sympathetically, clearly understanding the complexity and unfortunateness of these women's affairs. Helaena stood up quickly, terrified.
"Poor thing! Come to the bathroom, quickly!" She said, grabbing her hand and leading her towards the toilet. Only when Helaena left to bring her a pair of clean underwear and pants did she cry quietly, hiding her face in her hands.
She thought everyone would be staring at her for the rest of the day, and she ruined their pillow. She thought it was disgusting and cursed herself for not going to change her sanitary napkin sooner. Helaena handed her clothes through the gap in the door and closed it behind her. She washed herself quickly with cold water, dried herself with paper, and put on clean underwear, a sanitary napkin, and pants.
She looked at herself in the reflection, all red and swollen with tears. She thought she looked terrible and wanted to go home. She flinched as she heard a soft knock on the door.
"I'll be right back, Helaena, thank you very much." She said in a slightly broken voice, wiping her runny nose.
"May I came in?" She heard the same low voice as before. A shudder of pain and embarrassment ran through her. She looked at the sink, sighing softly.
"Y-yes, of course." She said, trying to stay calm.
She smiled weakly at him as he stepped inside, his gaze soft and calm. He looked at her with a hint of what she might call concern and sympathy. She thought that was the last thing she needed. They stood in silence for a moment.
"Are you okay? This chick's comment was unnecessary." He added, looking away, frustration evident in his voice. She pursed her lips at his words, closing her eyes. Thinking about it made her want to cry again, so she decided not to say anything.
"I already put the pillowcase in the washing machine, the insert itself didn't get dirty, so it will be like new. Don't worry." He said softly, looking at her expectantly. She smiled gratefully at him, appreciating the way he was treating her.
"Thank you and I'm sorry for the trouble. I'm so ashamed." She said embarrassed, wrapping her arms around herself.
"No problem." He said, taking a step closer to her. She looked at him surprised. "I know I'm not a good conversationalist. Like a fox, I can't relate to anyone who doesn't tame me."
She stared at him in shock, wiping her nose again. She blinked, wondering what he meant. She smiled understandingly at him.
"To tame someone, you have to give them space." She said calmly. Aemond pursed his lips.
"Exactly." He said softly. She felt her heart beat faster at the way he said the word. "That's why you made it."
She swallowed hard, staring at him in surprise. She thought she had only exchanged a few full sentences with him in the course of her acquaintance with him. Never dragging him out, never forcing him, never getting any closer to him than he wanted. She flinched as he took a step closer. They stood in front of each other, their faces a few inches apart.
"So if I say don't worry, then do so." He said softly. She blinked, feeling her lips tremble, wanting to cry again, but this time for a different reason.
"I want you to tame me."
She saw him smile at her words. She had never seen such a warm expression on his face before. She didn't pull away as he touched her cheek, his large hand brushing over her warm, still wet skin. Her lips parted invitingly, and he inhaled softly.
"May I?" He asked quietly. She nodded, and in a moment his lips were pressed against hers, soft, moist and warm, caressing her sensitive skin. Their fleshy lips brushed and pressed together with the sticky, wet click of their saliva. They broke apart, staring at each other with hazy eyes.
"My Rose." He whispered.
_____
A story at the request of one of the Anons Request, who mentioned that such a situation happened to her, unfortunately in less pleasant circumstances. 😓
It happened to me once at school too, but I figured it out quickly, no one noticed and I was wearing black jeans, so all I had to do was spray it with water and I somehow survived until the end of the day. 😵
Don't worry if this happens to you, it's normal!!! 💖💖💖
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn’t tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryens @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes
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emeritus-fuckers · 1 year
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Heyy
So I woke up and decided to not stay in my room looking like a feral possum✨ do you think you could write something about a self care day with nihil (old cause old him is superior 💅🏽) and primo? Just a ton of cuteness and simping 😩💙
Bold of you to assume I know anything about self-care - Jez
Self-care day with old Papa Nihil and Primo
Papa Nihil
Old man can barely take care of himself at this point, so this was probably your idea.
He's gonna be sceptical about it first. Don't take this personally, he's always sceptical at first.
"Listen, I'm already old and covered in wrinkles, I don't think a facemask or some silly massage is gonna do much about it."
Gives in eventually because he's a fucking simp and he needs your approval.
He's a "Walk him like a dog and he'll beg you to let him bark" type of guy when it comes to you. Of course he gave in.
You have no idea what grip you have on him. He's wrapped around your finger completely.
He sends you to whatever store you need to go in order to buy everything you wanted for this "self-care day" you came up with.
Send a few Ghouls with you. For protection and so they carry your bags.
You're obviously spending his money, not yours. Go all out, old man's got stacks.
When you return, you find that he had some Siblings of Sin help him arrange a little spa area in his chambers. And by help I mean they did everything while he stood there complaining it wasn't perfect enough for you.
Only the best for the love of his life!
Now, Nihil has no idea what any of the products you use do. He used to be fairly knowledgeable when he was younger, but there was way less stuff back then and he stopped using all that years ago. Too much effort.
He lets you organize everything.
You've got an old music compilation playing quietly in the background while you both lay there in your facemasks, relaxing as you talk about everything and nothing.
You go through any procedure he's willing to sit through.
He only has three conditions, really. He needs to be able to use his oxygen machine (obviously), he needs to be able to move his face properly and it can't hurt.
You make a neat little plan of all the facial stuff you two do, making sure to take reasonable breaks between them. He's over a hundred years old, his bladder ain't what it used to be.
You take a movie break when it's time for dinner, ordering take out.
"You see, Papa, on days like this, we're being bad." you winked at him before making the phone call to order your food.
Oh, how he loved the way those words sounded when you said them...
After you two finished eating, you insisted on doing his nails. And once again, he couldn't refuse.
You worked diligently while he got to watch a movie.
Okay, let's be real, he watched you work while he movie played in the background.
When you were done, he tried doing your nails, too. It was a disaster, but you just laughed it off and kept your messy, uneven nail polish for as long as you could.
Primo
Primo has his own definition of a self-care day, but he's willing to compromise if what you want is very different from what he usually does when he has the rare opportunity to take a day off.
When he's not busy working, he spends his free time tending to the garden. His age sadly limits what he can do, but he has a group of young Siblings of Sin help out. They all look up to him, seeing him as a father figure (he has a unique sort of aura that brings in people who didn't have good parental figures in their lives and he always ends up filling that role for them), so they love helping him, even if in small ways.
He enjoys reading, too. And knitting. You know, the typical cozy old people hobbies. He likes the idea of being able to relax in his life, after everything he did both for the Ministry and for the people in it.
However, he tends to overwork himself. Put the people before him. He's a good soul, one that yearns for a family, even if he couldn't have one. He threw his youth away to raise his brothers and while he doesn't regret that, he wishes he could've had at least a bit more time to himself.
He was happy when you offered a self-care day just for the two of you. He left a list of things to do in the garden and let you plan the day.
He adored how well you knew him, even if he wasn't a very open person.
You two planted some flowers in new pots in his room first. He guided you through it, teaching you about the plants.
You baked a nice cake, too. And made tea (once again, from scratch. Primo makes his tea from scratch and I will die on this hill - Jez).
You enjoy what you made in his greenhouse, the butterflies flying around and sitting on the both of you as you took a walk together after eating.
Just like the taught you about plants, he taught you about the butterflies, showing you their eggs and teaching how to tell the difference between their chrysalises.
You spend the day there, time flying like the butterflies around you.
In the evening you both read in bed when the evening came and then cuddled to sleep, Primo wrapping his arms around you and humming quietly to soothe you.
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jae-bummer · 1 year
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My Idol 3: Part Seven
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My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Saturday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in a specific mission to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what four idols will move on to the second date.
My Idol 3: The Series
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Looking up moodily at your night shift body guard, you waited in silence for him to open your room.
"No hello?" Insu teased, tilting his head. "How was your day? I've missed you terribly?"
"Hello, Insu," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "How was your day? I have missed you terribly."
"Well," he clucked. "It doesn't sound genuine when I have to prompt you."
"Can I please just go inside?" you whined, rubbing your forehead to ease the oncoming headache.
"Sure," he nodded. Letting the tension ease from your shoulders, you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves. "But it'll cost you."
"I have a sneaking suspicion that you're not talking about money," you groaned.
"Not at all," he smiled easily. "Money's worthless. You're time, however, is valuable."
"What do you want?"
"Grab your ice bucket," he said gently. "Let's go for a walk."
"I don't want to go for a walk," you pouted. "I've walked enough today. And ridden a bike. And fallen off that bike. And then thought my date died."
Insu nodded politely. "I think you need to decompress."
"I'm perfectly capable of decompressing in the comfort of my bed," you muttered.
"Where you can thought spiral through every hypothetical way you could have reacted on your date?" he smirked. "Perfect idea. Have a great night!"
"You're a little too perceptive for your own good," you grumbled. "Has anyone ever told you that before?"
"I read people for a living, Y/N," sighed. "You're just one of the lucky ones I like."
"I don't see why," you lamented, not proud of yourself, but searching for solace nonetheless. "I'm a walking disaster."
"Hardly," he said, tapping your room key against the door. Shouldering it open, he waited for you to pass him and go in. "Now come on. I'll even give you five minutes for a bathroom break before I expect to see you back out here."
Sliding into your room, you glanced at him over your shoulder. "How charitable."
After spending at least ten minutes sat on the sink, totally not thought spiraling, Insu's fourth round of knocking finally pushed you to hop off the counter. Snagging the ice bucket from beside you, you shuffled back toward the door and yanked it open. Chewing on your lip, you narrowed your eyes at the dastardly man.
"That was much longer than five minutes."
"Should've come in after me," you sighed, breezing past him. "What if I had passed out on the toilet? Some body guard you are."
"I'm here to protect you from other people," he chuckled. "Not from yourself."
"Comforting," you deadpanned. "I'll remember that the next time I feel faint."
The two of you walked down the hallway in companionable silence for a moment, giving you time to let your eyes wander from door to door. You were curious who was hidden where and if they were all comfortable with the current arrangements. Now you had three men, three celebrities, locked up for what could be weeks. They'd be missing crucial schedules, studio time, and dance practices...all because of you.
"You have no control over what fans do," Insu said quietly, seeming to have read your mind.
"Get out of my head," you huffed, glaring over your shoulder at him.
"I don't have to be in your head to know you're going through it," he hummed. "I can tell by your body language."
"Please, enlighten me," you sighed, coming to a halt and spinning toward him. "What is my body saying?"
You tried to ignore the up and down assessment he gave you.
"Your shoulders are tense," he noted. "You're either chewing on your lip or the inside of your cheek at any give time. Your arms are wrapped so tightly around the ice bucket, you-"
"Okay, okay," you accepted. "Apparently my body is talkative. I get it."
Turning back around, you started your trek again.
"I'm here to listen," Insu prompted from behind you. "If you want to talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about," you alleged. "Plus I'm sure Hyuk gave you the full report."
"I did have to set three of his fingers," Insu confessed. "But he didn't get into specifics."
Whirling around again, your eyes were wide. "He didn't go to the hospital?"
"Not if he can avoid it," he smirked. "It's kind of the nature of the business."
"Great," you gasped, throwing your hands in the air, ice bucket included. "So I've been the cause for two people's physical injuries, my apartment being torn apart, AND everyone being held up in hotel rooms like some kind of fancy prison."
"Hey," Insu said quietly, taking slow steps to close the distance between the two of you. You hadn't noticed it previously, but you were breathing heavily and tears may or may not have started to escape your eyes.
Placing his hands lightly on your shoulders, he slid his fingers carefully down to your elbows and then back up again. "You're not responsible for any of that."
"I am," you whined. You were on the brink of becoming a blubbering mess. "I'm the unlikable one. Fans don't like me. That's why all of this is happening. I'm supposed to be better. I'm supposed to be more deserving."
"Come here," Insu said gruffly, pulling you against him. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he placed a hand gently on the back of your head. "With the fan-bases these guys have, no one will ever be good enough. It's not personal."
"They made it personal," you squeaked into his suit. While you weren't proud of your breakdown, you were enjoying the unexpected safety Insu provided. "They took away everything."
"They didn't," he insisted. "They can't take away how you react to the situation, and you've been doing well. Better than anyone can expect, really."
Pulling away from him, you caught Insu's eyes. "Why are you being so sweet?"
"I can't comfort a friend in need?" he smiled, patting your head absently before stepping back.
"We're friends?" you chirped, quietly pleased by this development.
"I guess we are," Insu hummed, seeming surprised by his own words.
You smiled softly at him, allowing this new, bubbly feeling to float through you. If not watched carefully, you knew it could be dangerous, and you already had enough boy-related problems on your hands.
"Y/N?" a familiar voice questioned from behind you.
Turning around, you couldn't help but feel the moment between you and Insu had been snuffed out. You were only mildly horrified with yourself as you felt a slight disappointment at another person joining the conversation until you realized who it was.
"Jungkook!" you grinned. It took everything in you not to greet him with a big hug.
He seemed to have no qualms though.
"Y/N!" he breathed, an easy smile filling his face. Crossing the hallway, he pulled you in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he tucked you into his frame, enveloping you in warmth.
"It's so good to see you," he whispered into your hair.
"It's good to see you too," you sighed, leaning back to get a better look at him, but remaining in his arms. He looked as handsome as ever.
Clearing his throat behind you, Insu made his presence abundantly clear.
Stepping away from Jungkook, you felt heat creep up your neck. You glanced behind Jungkook, his won bodyguard giving an awkward wave.
"Sorry," Jungkook winced, nodding briefly to Insu. Focusing on you again, he grinned. "How are you?"
"I've been better," you admitted. "I'm hoping they filled you in when they moved you here?"
"A little bit," he grimaced. "Y/N, I am so sorry. I can't believe anyone would do that, let alone someone who would call themselves a fan of any of us."
"They killed my fish," you blurted, not realizing how much that thought burdened you.
"What?" he gasped, his eyes growing wide. He pulled you in for another hug. "You've been through so much."
"Y/N," Insu grunted behind you. "It's best we get going."
"Right," you nodded, stepping away from Jungkook. If the producers saw the two of you fraternizing in the hallway, it likely wouldn't go over well.
"I'm glad I saw you," Jungkook nodded, eyes bright. "Even if it was only for a minute."
You smirked before glancing to your feet. "I didn't get to ask, but you're doing okay?"
"I'm doing great," he chimed. "I've gotten more sleep than I have in years. And three meals a day! Can you even imagine?"
You let out an unexpected laugh. "That's a relief to hear. I'm glad you're resting well."
"So are the other guys," he nodded, somehow knowing that would comfort you. "Just to clarify. We're all taking this in stride."
"You've talked to them?" you asked, tilting your head.
"Hongseok and I get meals together downstairs sometimes," he said, an idea lighting up his expression. "You should meet with us!"
"Y/N," Insu cautioned. His quiet reminder that you've dallied too long.
"We should," you agreed before squeezing his bicep lightly. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay," Jungkook hummed, giving the cutest nose scrunch.
Taking a deep breath, you continued down the hallway past him, willing yourself not to look back. You hadn't realized how reassuring his presence would be. He was the only one who hadn't really been privy to the nightmare this experience had become, so it was such a relief to touch base. Plus he confirmed that he and Hongseok were doing just fine. You hoped he would begin including San in their shared meals as well.
Walking into the ice room in a bit of a daze, it took you a moment to realize how quiet Insu was being.
Turning to look at him as you filled your bucket, you were surprised when he didn't make eye contact. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said shortly.
"Apparently not," you chuckled nervously, feeling his mood change rolling off him in waves.
"We wasted too much time," he muttered. "We could've both gotten in trouble."
"It was just a quick conversation," you reasoned. "It wasn't really a big deal."
"Every minute you are outside of the safety of your room is a big deal," he said, glaring.
"Whoa," you winced, tucking your now full ice bucket back under your arm. "Down, tiger."
"I'm not going to endanger you just so some celebrity can get in his five minutes," he grumbled, looking anywhere but at you. "I'm sure that little stunt added quite the points in his favor."
"Insu," you whispered, recoiling from him as if you had been slapped. "Jungkook isn't like that."
"Right," he scoffed, turning around and leading you back into the hall.
Normally you walked in front of your body guard, but this time, he was stomping in front of you.
What was his issue?
Was he...jealous?
"Someone got really grumpy, rather quickly," you muttered, arriving at your door. Stepping in your way, Insu glared down at you.
"Just watch yourself, okay?" he said sternly. "These guys sell a fantasy every day. They're good at it."
"Heaven forbid someone genuinely likes me," you huffed.
"I didn't say they couldn't," he shot back. "All I'm saying is-"
"Yeah, yeah," you groaned. "Poor little Y/N, manipulated by the heart throb. I get it."
"Y/N," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I'm saying at all."
"Then come out with it!" you gasped. This day had been far too long and complicated for your liking. You were ready to hide under your blankets and never come out.
"I care about your well being!" he burst, his hands curling into fists as he let them drop to his sides. "I don't want to see you hurt!"
You chewed on his comment for a moment, watching as he continued to stare at you, frustration painted across his handsome face. "Why, Insu?"
"I told you earlier, I like you, Y/N," he struggled. "You don't want to see people you favor falling into situations where they're not watching out for themselves."
"You said you couldn't protect me from myself," you said quietly. "Remember?"
Insu let out a small grunt. "Stubborn."
"Exhausted," you corrected. "Thoroughly done. Burned out. Let me into my room."
Smacking your room's key card against the keypad, Insu backed into door. Keeping it open wide as you walked past, you could feel his eyes boring into you from behind.
"Goodnight," you huffed.
Without saying a word, he stepped into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him.
..
Your next date wasn't until the following evening, giving you plenty of time to stew in your disaster of a date, the situation with Insu, and the small rendezvous with Jungkook. Saying you were confused and irritable was an understatement.
You were already in the thick of things with three different idols and had four more to go. You couldn't go throwing Insu into the situation when your heart and mind were completely disoriented. You had never navigated anything quite this intense in your life.
Jungkook had pure intentions, of that you were sure. That's why Insu's outburst had shaken you so much. He didn't know anything about these guys, and it was clear in the way he was acting. That being said, you couldn't help that it had sewed the smallest seed of doubt in your mind. He was right, idols were well-versed in giving the illusion of attainability. Surely they weren't putting on an act just to win the competition...were they? The cameras weren't even around when you had bumped into Jungkook. He had no reason to be so caring if that were the case.
"Damnit, Insu," you hissed, knowing this would dwell in the back of your head. How dare he open that door when you were already feeling like you were going crazy.
Lost in thought, you yanked open the door of your hotel room right after you heard a knock. Hyuk had dropped you off for makeup and hair not long ago with the promise of your date starting soon. It was going to be a formal evening, so you were dressed exceptionally well (at least to your own standards). Shimmying out your shoulders, you tried to focus on the task at hand. You would have fun tonight, even if it killed you.
Glancing up from your uncomfortable shoes, you were taking aback at seeing Insu again so quickly.
"What are you doing here?" you croaked, unintentionally sounding annoyed by his mere presence.
Insu's eyebrows shot up. "This is an evening date. Am I not your night shift bodyguard?"
Right. Somehow it had completely evaded you that he would be the one escorting you this evening.
"Perfect," you muttered, shaking your head. This was just great.
Barging your way around him, you started down the hall, trying to calm your anxiety. It was hard enough jumping into another blind date, let alone with your moody body guard in tow.
Stepping into the elevator, you scooted as far away from him as you could. Maybe it was a bit immature, but you were emotionally frazzled before you had even blown up at each other last night. It was to be expected that you were still a little bit raw.
Punching at the button for the lobby, Insu became a statue beside you. Remaining quiet, it wasn't until the end of the elevator ride that he finally spoke up. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks," you managed, not allowing for his kind words to melt the ice that had frozen around you.
"Y/N," he sighed, turning slightly toward you. "Surely you can understand where I was coming from-"
"Doubling down is not the optimal move here," you grumbled, holding up a hand in the air between you. "I'm trying to get into a good mental space to handle this date. I really don't want to talk about last night."
"Can we talk later?" he asked, tilting his head.
"No."
"Y/N-"
"I'll think about it," you groaned. "Okay? Just give me some space for tonight."
Giving a curt nod, Insu stepped back into his position beside you.
It wasn't long before the elevator doors slid open, exposing you to the commotion that was the hotel lobby. Taking a deep breath, you stepped from the small space. Furrowing your brows, you were surprised to see a handsome man, dressed in a full suit in front of you. The cameras were on and waiting for your arrival.
"Wow," his surprisingly gravely voice purred. Reaching out to take your hand, he smiled. "You must be Y/N."
"I am," you said cautiously.
"I'm Got7's Jackson," he smiled. "And you are absolutely gorgeous."
You tried to ignore the sharp intake of breath from behind you.
Tonight was going to be interesting.
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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 months
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Fics With Titles That Start With R (3) Masterlist
part one, part two
Rabu Hoteru (ao3) - justiceshorts
Summary: In which Dan and Phil stay at a love hotel whilst their in Japan.
rainbow, proud (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: Phil really wants the corgi shirt, but Dan thinks he has enough already
rat and relaxation time (ao3) - possumdnp
Summary: Dan and Phil wake up on the first day of their holiday.
Reach for the Stars (ao3) - KaytheJay
Summary: Dan is a lawyer who went to New York when he forced himself to take a break from work. He thinks it is a pointless trip until he runs into his favorite YouTuber from back in the day.
Reaching for the Floor (ao3) - uglyhowell
Summary: Dan’s a horny teenager whose boyfriend lives hours away. Or, in which Phil teaches Dan the wonders of Skype sex.
read between the lines (i will if you will) (ao3) - Ablissa
Summary:
Phil ^_^ (5:31 PM) Dan?
danisNOTonfire xD i swear im really not. come check. (5:31 PM) yeah?
Phil ^_^ (5:32 PM) I think I’m in love with you I just I can’t wait to meet you – Skype conversations between Dan and Phil, leading up to their first meeting. 2009!Phan. Prepare for fluff.
Ready Player Two (ao3) - jonsaremembers
Summary: Their paths diverge for a time.
Reasons why Phil’s body is a fail - slightlydizzier
Summary: Phil didn’t exactly draw the best numbers in the gene pool lottery, and here are a few reasons why.
rebrand (ao3) - dan-whoell (infiniteseriesofhalfways)
Summary: Phil makes some changes and meets a boy named Dan.
Regenboog (ao3) - waveydnp
Summary: In a hotel room in Amsterdam, Dan and Phil celebrate pride in their own way.
Relax, Recharge & Arrange a Terrarium (ao3) - cafephan
Summary: It’s a much needed day off from tour. The two of them enjoy some well deserved private time, and Dan considers whether his new terrarium decor is a little much.
Release Your Inhibitions - pedestriansquirrel
Summary:  All of these unconventional ways of showing affection seemed to work quite well for the both of them, until something about their relationship changed.This change was displayed in the tiniest glint of silver from the chain Phil wore around his neck that, unknown to anyone else, contained a gift, a gift that was given after Dan had proposed in mid-October.
Réponds à Ma Tendresse (ao3) - Blorbiron
Summary: Dan is visiting, and that’s Phil’s absolute favorite thing ever- which is kind of sad, maybe, for someone he’s known for like two months, but he can’t be bothered to care. Because Dan’s sitting right on his bed, close enough to touch, and cackling whenever Phil dies in Crash Bandicoot. Which is a lot.
Revenge is Sweet (ao3) - danteasers
Summary: Phil’s girlfriend breaks up with him, and to make her jealous Dan and Phil go to some extremes that make them question their feelings about each other.
Risk and Reward (ao3) - domisnotonfire
Summary: This work is inspired by Appetite & Defiance by jestbee and is supposed to be a continuation of that series, read that first or this one won't make sense. All credits for the idea of this fic and any original characters goes to them.
Road Trip (ao3) - danteasers
Summary: Dan and Phil go on a road trip in America where they massively fail at doing stuff.
Road Trip Disasters - doomedhowell
Summary: Dan and Phil decide to do a road trip in America, and unfortunately, things keep going wrong. Now, they found themselves stuck in the middle of Texas where it’s summer and the heat is unbearable.
robot in the dorms (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)
Summary: dan goes to university in florida and meets his roommate phil. after a few months, and despite dan’s facade of disinterest, he begins to actually like phil and his nerdy ways. the robot that phil designs doesn’t help.
Robots and Railroads (ao3) - niveuos
Summary: Dan is a robot, and Phil loves Dan. But how can Dan love him in return when his heart is made of metal and gold?
rock, paper, scissors (ao3) - possumdnp
Summary: Dan and Phil play rock, paper, scissors to decide what to do in bed (because sometimes, it's the fairest way to make a decision).
Romance Is Boring (ao3) - mothinaweb
Summary: Dan is a lonely 28 year old man who one day stumbles upon a silly little man named Phil in a coffee shop. They become part of each others lives and their relationship grows, and Dan finds more and more that he can’t ignore what he’s feeling anymore. Or rather, what he’s not feeling.
(Or, Dan is aromantic, Phil is not.)
Room For Two (ao3) - dip_and_pip_trash
Summary: Tour is great but sometimes it’s nice to actually share a bed with the person you love.
routine (ao3) - qrovers
Summary: The scene is as follows: The dining room is empty except for Dan, who sits in front of his computer about to upload We’re All Doomed. There is the lingering smell of fries and dips. Dan is in his pajamas, the Minecraft ones Phil always manages to hog. By the side of his desk, a full cup of cocoa has since lost its steam. It’s also from Phil. “To relax you,” he said.
Dan knows he just made two by accident.
run as far as your dark brown eyes can see (ao3) - chickenfree
Summary: Dan’s laughing, pleased with his own joke about being an awkward child, about misfit war wounds, which Phil will obviously relate to.
Oh.
(Or: the many times Phil has been surprised, and the one thing that didn't surprise him at all.)
Running Now I Close My Eyes- daniactuallysnuffledthatpopcorn
Summary:  Bad days don’t care where you are or what you’re doing. This time, Dan is hit by one on a trip to Florida with the in-laws. Fortunately, Phil is always right there with him.
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notar1ana · 1 year
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Elizabeth
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My Oc's gif board - Elizabeth
| Full name:
Elizabeth the First, Princess of the Lundenwit Isles
| Year:
Mid 1600s
| Significant Actions:
Saving Carla from being executed, rejecting Henry from marriage, running away from the Castle into the forest that night, leaving Henry during the ballroom dancing, and more in the making.
| Crush/Love interest:
Carla. Although, she cannot tell anyone about it besides from Carla herself because in Ludenwit homosexuality is punishable by death.
| Attributes:
Compassionate, kind, empathetic, internalised materialism, wild, and she has a closed mind but and open heart.
| Relationships with Major Characters:
Her father - (king) They do still love each other but they disagree on a lot of things
Her mother (queen) -Barely talk, don't agree on virtually anything, her mother thinks that being gay is terrible and who is the one who set the law in place that being gay is punishable by death.
Carla - From the moment they saw each other, a spark was formed. Carla originally perceived Elizabeth as a snob who was only nice for the public eye. After Elizabeth knighted her, they became closet then ever. Since she was now a knight, Carla had to live in the castle. The castle had many rooms but all of them were considered "too nice" for an ex-death row inmate to stay in. So she was forced to share a room with none other than Princess Elizabeth. Elizabeth had many complaints because she did not want to share a room with anyone else, let alone Carla because she thought Carla was make her and her room a disaster, but she relentlessly agreed on behalf of her parents. Carla was directed to sleep in Elizabeths' dimly lit walk-in closet on a mattress infested with bed bugs... but that didn't last long because Elizabeth caught Carla trying to sneak out on her nightly forest walks, Elizabeth was mad at first, but she eventually gave into going to the forest with Carla. After bonding in the forest, Carla and Elizabeth sat by a river together recounting Carla's past and how she ended up almost being executed. After a moment of silence after Carla's story, Elizabeth put her head on her shoulder and they hit it off from there.
Henry - Elizabeth's parents were extremely fed up with Elizabeth not finding any potential husbands that would become a king, so Elizabeth's mother decided to put fate into her own hands and arrange a marriage between Elizabeth and Prince Henry. The queen wanted to have them get to know each other before they got married so Henry was invited to live in the castle of Ludenwit. Elizabeth was furious her mother would have an arranged marriage to her, let alone to someone as stuck up and pretentious as Henry. Elizabeth overheard her father discussing declaring a war on an apposing nation. Not only would Elizabeth would have to move into Henry's castle, Clara would be sent off into war. She also overheard that there would be a ball tonight to distract the public from the impending war. Mortified, Elizabeth ran into her room to tell the news to Clara but she was stopped by Henry to ask her to the ball, Elizabeth felt pressure to accept, so she did. While she lived in Henry's castle, she wrote to Clara every moment she could.
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Note
Happy 200 Followers!!
I couldn't decide which OC to tell you about, but since you already love Kris, I'm gonna ask you which OC you think would get along with him the best.
~Morri🗡️ (@memento-morri-writes)
Hi! Thanks for the ask!
Kris my beloved!
So, we've already established that, eventually, Kris and Enrico would get along great. They both have self-esteem issues the size of a small country. Get these two in a room with a bottle of booze and watch disasters happen.
I also think that, due to Kris' rough family situation, he'd get along really well with Giacomo. Giacomo is basically Kris if instead of meeting Fallon when he left Oryn, he had ended up somewhere even worse. Neither of them have any attachment to their biological families--Kris is traumatized from his time in Oryn and hates the idea of going back, Giacomo's parents kicked him out when he was 18 because they couldn't take the risk of having a magical child, and his sister arranged him getting involved with Basilio. These two would gleefully exact revenge on their families while Fallon and Martino looked on and clapped.
If Kris met Attilio he would immediately be adopted. Nova and Cloelia would be like "Oh cool new brother! Hope this one isn't a dirty traitor!"
Kris would beat the shit out of Ottavio and I love him for it. "You had a good family and RUINED it?!?!"
(Also, you did not ask, but this seems like a good place to include a Fallon/Enrico interaction that's been living in my head rent free:
Fallon: Yeah, I'm Queen now because my father betrayed us and my mother was murdered.
Enrico: Oh, that's horrible! Was it an accident?
Fallon: ...How could that ever be an accident?!
Enrico: liSTEN)
Sorry this got long but Kris is my Blorbo in Law
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umichenginabroad · 4 months
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Post 1 (Week 0): Managing The Flight
Intro
Bonjour! This is Andrew, a rising sophomore here at the UofM. As you’ve probably already guessed, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to come to Paris for a one-and-a-half month study abroad experience, and I’m here to tell you all about it! Quick note, I wrote a lottttt of stuff in this post, and it can get really boring, so feel free to just pick a section to read and skip along. Also feel free to just read this paragraph, it’s chill and all up to you!
This will be my first blog of the trip, and I will be beginning with the process of managing your flight. As an international student, flying has already been something I have done countless times; when some people simply hop into their cars and drive themselves home, I have to spend a LUDICROUS amount of money to pay for a HORRENDOUS 13 + 5 hour flight back to Taiwan just to see my dog. Ranting aside, what I really want to say here that I think will prove useful to those of you who are interested in pursuing a study abroad experience of your own is that there are many things that have to be taken into consideration when arranging your trip, especially your flight there. In this post, I’d like to focus on how you can (and should) prepare your transportation to whichever country you wish to visit, using myself as a terrible example for you to NOT follow~  (All photos used were taken by me so no credentials provided)
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#1: Booking The Flight
Assuming that your destination is somewhere other than America, it is probably a very good idea to book your international flight at least 3~4 months before your projected departure date. I recommend using google flights to track ticket prices and book at the best time possible. Me personally, despite knowing this, booked my tickets a bit late, at around 2.5 months before my program start date. You might be thinking, “Well that’s still ok right?” It kind of is, but I forgot something really important. The Olympics are this year, and yes, they’re in Paris. Which means? Airlines become scammers and quadruple their prices. (Exaggerated, but still you get my point.) So I think the bigggg takeaway is that you should note any significant event, natural disaster, or things like political conflicts that may influence the prices of your plane tickets. Start doing this as soon as you decide to do a study abroad program, and you’ll be saving yourself some big cash, all while ensuring your own safety.
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#2: Packing For The Trip
Traveling is very different from living at home. You can’t really bring everything with you, and you’re gonna have to choose which teddy bear comes with you and which stays in your room. My recommendation when it comes to determining what to bring is to look up checklists for packing. Yes, I know, so unoriginal, but hear me out. The people who make these lists don’t know who you are, what you do, or where you’re going. That’s why their lists only include things that are absolutely essential to ANY travel experience. An example of this can be seen here. Following these guides will ensure that you don’t get stranded in an airport, get sent back to America, or get yourself in messy situations abroad. After you’ve gotten all the essentials packed, you should still have plenty of space for other items. Now you can start throwing in your extra shoes, frisbees, idk, whatever you think you’re going to use during your trip. Checking things such as the weather, geography, and local culture could be very helpful when packing these non-essentials. Don’t be like me, bringing half my furniture and two thirds of my clothes just to have them sit in the suitcase the entire time. I kinda didn’t have a choice because I didn’t want to spend money on storage back at Ann Arbor, but still, try not to let yourself tow 80lb worth of junk around.
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#3: The Actual Flight
Like I said, I’ve flown quite a few times. I still get panic attacks at the airport. “Where’s my passport? Where’s my gate? Did I pack a kitchen knife by accident (Don’t)? Where did I put my batteries???” So regardless of whether you’ve flown 100 times or never once flown, it’s normal to feel pressure at the airport. What’s not normal or okay is feeling like flying is just like a normal walk in the park, unless you’re fine with losing a passport or two when taking a stroll (you’re not). Some things that I recommend paying attention to when flying are as follows. First, have your passport(s) on you at all times. Whatever you lose, never lose your passport. Actually no, just try not to lose anything lol. I have a passport case that I always keep in my hoodie pocket, always in reach and felt. If you lose it or them, it’s kinda gg for you. Second, if you’re transferring flights, book them with at least 2~3 hours of layover time. I booked mine with 50 minutes of layover. Don’t do that. I repeat, DON’T do that. Whichever teacher who’s checking this post, I know what you’re thinking. “Wha-how-nahhhh, 100 bucks he didn’t make it.” I made it, but I’m thanking the airport god every day for this miracle. A quick note is that if you’re transferring from a domestic flight to an international flight and you booked your two flights together from the same airline, you “might” be able to just head straight over to the next terminal and hop onto your next plane. If you’re making an international flight before a domestic flight though, there will likely be a re-check-in and/or additional security check as you enter the new country, which will take up more time. Plan for the worst, which is the latter. I learned this the hard way, as I missed my second flight back to Michigan last year after a slight delay in my first. Almost missed the CFB Finals, wouldn’t have forgiven them if that happened. Finally, ask questions. Different airports have different layouts and security procedures, different airlines have different regulations and offers. It’s never a bad idea to make sure you’re doing the right thing, especially when something like a 1 lb overweight checked bag will set you back $200 for United Airlines(Really United?). That’s a lot of stuff, and I sound like a teacher, I know. But I hope these little unnecessary mistakes that I made won’t be a problem for any of you during your trips!
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#4: Arriving At The Destination
Yay! I’ve finally arrived in Paris. I’m so excited to start my journey at my studio that’s a 35 minute drive away from the airport! More likely than not, you won’t be having or even be allowed to have a car when studying abroad, so transportation can be a big issue. First one you’ll need to take care of is your drive to where you’ll be living. In my case, CEA CAPA, the study abroad program, was very helpful and arranged transportation services for students who arrived within a certain time frame (I believe roughly between 8:00 and 18:00 on 05/13), but that may be different for other people. Make sure you won’t be stranded at the local airport after finally making your way there because trust me, you won’t have the energy to worry about too much after your long travel session. After my flight to Paris, I struggled to find the CEA CAPA driver, and therefore had to call the emergency contact line, which successfully helped me resolve the issue. This is all thanks to a pre-bought e-sim from orange travel that allowed me to use my French number as soon as we set foot on Parisian soil. Finally, after all that work, and of course after making sure my luggage was with me, I was able to safely make it to my studio. Now, the fun starts! 
Hsien-Cheng Chou (Andrew Chou)
Mechanical Engineering
Engineering in Paris
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briamichellewrites · 11 months
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3
Mike wished he could have met Jean. From what Bria said about him, he sounded like a great guy. He raised his daughter while grieving the death of his wife. It had to be hard and he imagined he did the best he could. Despite being spoiled, he did a great job teaching her how to be empathetic. He saw a picture of him and her mother smiling while holding a newborn Bria. Her mother was beautiful and she looked like Bria. She could be mistaken for a fashion model.
There was writing on the back, so he flipped the picture over. Jean and Marie with newborn Jean-Marie, 1981. He asked her about the name. She explained that was going to be her name before they decided on Bria. Why did they change it? She couldn’t remember why but she would have been happy with Jean-Marie because it would have honored both of her parents.
“How do you pronounce Jean in French?”
“It’s like the English name, John but with a zh. Zhon.”
He thought that was interesting. Her father was constantly called the English name. He got used to correcting people. That was probably why they decided to give her a simpler name. That made sense. Yeah, he wished he could have met him. What would he do without his parents? He would be tasked with taking care of his little brother because that’s what families do in Japan.
They took care of each other. The elderly lived with their children, their spouses, and their children. He did meet her assistant, Linda. She was an older woman who had worked for her father for several years. It was a job she didn’t mind doing because it paid well. She also thought of Bria as her daughter because she had been able to see her grow up. Linda was surprised to hear that she had done laundry with help from Mike. She was so proud of her!
She heard about the almost disaster he had walked into. He had to stop her before she ruined her very expensive clothes. Good for him! Bria was going on a week-long trip to her father’s vacation apartment in Cannes, so Linda arranged everything for her. The apartment was cleaned and ready for her.
“Thank you! This is why we love you, Linda!”
Mike laughed at how excited she was. She was very welcome. Someday, she would take him there. He would enjoy that. Was Cannes where they had the film festival? Yes! It was held every May. The town was very busy during that time. Cannes was also a fishing town with amazing seafood restaurants and shops. They went up to the room with her handbags and shoes, where she gifted Linda a brand-new Kate Spade handbag.
Linda was used to getting gifts from her and her father. One year, he gave her an all-expenses paid trip for her family to Italy for ten days. Money was nothing to them. Still, she was grateful for everything. She thanked her with a hug. You are very welcome! Mike guessed that the handbag likely cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars.
Later, he was given a bottle of Vosne-Romanée Premier Cru Les Brûlées 1998, which cost four thousand euros. It was for him and Joe to share while doing homework. Linda quietly told him if he looked up the price, not to mention it. He wouldn’t say anything. While talking about her vacation to Cannes, he learned that she liked packing her own suitcase because she had a certain way of doing it. That was her only rule. Linda never had a problem with that.
The only thing she did was make sure she had everything she needed, including her medication for her ADHD, passport, and other important documents. Even though she was taking a private plane, she still needed a ticket and passport. A driver would be there to pick her up at the airport and take her to the vacation home. She had a car she used while in Cannes.
Whatever she bought would be shipped back to her house. The packages would be waiting for her when she got back. He wished traveling was that easy. Someday, she would take him with her. He would enjoy that. Since she was leaving the following morning, she made sure she had everything ready by the door because she had a tendency to be distracted and scatterbrained. It was a symptom of her disorder. It drove her father crazy because he liked everything to be organized and on time.
He didn’t like having to wait for her because she forgot something. When he got back to his apartment, he and Joe tried the wine. It was so good! It tasted like berries and spices. How much was it? He had no idea, though he guessed it was thousands of dollars.
They took the bottle with them down to the computer lab and went to Google. He laughed in shock when they saw the price. Oh my god! To her, that was nothing. To them, it was everything! They brought the bottle back with them to their apartment. Since it was so expensive, they were going to save it for as long as possible. He had been on airplanes many times but never a private one.
He thought about how wonderful it would be to have a ton of legroom and not fight with the person beside him for the armrest. That was usually his little brother. Their father warned them about fighting. Sometimes they had to switch seats with either of their parents. Having a little brother was not always fun growing up. He and Jason could laugh at how much they used to fight. Mike got into the most trouble because he was the oldest. He should know better.
They did have moments when they did get along and played together. When he moved out and went to college, he realized how much he missed his brother. He wouldn’t trade him for anything and he would go to war for him. If anyone hurt him, he would do whatever he could to get justice for him.
Bria went through security and customs before getting on board her plane. It had a private bathroom, first-class dining, a private bedroom, personalized service, and a television with a VHS player. She picked what she wanted for the meal that would be served to her during the flight, along with the movies she wanted to have available for her to choose from. It was like having a five-star hotel in the sky. The seats even reclined, so she could fall asleep while watching a movie.
Wherever she went, she treated everyone equally. When she made a request, she always said please and thank you. She also tipped generously, even if it wasn’t expected. Waitstaff, doormen, drivers, or whoever served or helped her each get a tip. After getting comfortable, she ordered her meal to be delivered to her once they were at cruising altitude.
After eating, she would likely watch one of her movies. She liked to nap because it made the time go by faster. The plane had pajamas, an eye mask, and fresh earplugs for her to use. For her drink, she ordered a Diet Coke. Thank you. The crew was getting ready to take off, so she sat back and looked out the window. It would take twelve and a half hours before they got to Cannes.
It would take ten minutes of driving before getting to her destination. She couldn’t wait to be back in France. It was her second home. Was she nervous about flying? Yes, she was. After Jean’s death, she and her nanny met with a trained flight instructor. He let her express her concerns about crashing.
He showed them how everything worked on a plane and the safety precautions they took. That made her feel a lot better and less anxious. Plane crashes were rare. They were mostly caused by mechanical problems that were overlooked during inspections. With every accident, planes became safer and safer because they always fixed whatever caused the crash. While she waited, she replied to Linda confirming she was at the airport.
Yes, I just boarded. I’ll let you know when I get to the apartment. Take the week off and spend it with your family. I’ll see you when I get back. - Bria
@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia
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an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:
#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.
but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.
but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.
#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.
the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.
tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.
#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.
both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.
the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.
#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.
so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.
#5 : the splits
#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.
the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.
cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).
kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.
still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.
#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.
eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.
and then there were two.
kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.
kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.
#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.
right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.
somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.
tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.
#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?
it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.
maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.
besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.
he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.
maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.
#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.
kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.
so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).
understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.
kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.
i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to
also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood
tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy
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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years
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Blaise’s Cup of Tea (D.M)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader
Warnings: some mentions of alcohol, very mild sexual themes, nothing too explicit, Draco being a fûxkboy ,Draco being a huge simp
Summary: where Draco is secretly in love with his best friend’s fiancée
Word count: 2122
A/n: had this idea in the shower and I couldn’t help myself. The blog has been a mess recently and for that I apologise.
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For Draco Malfoy, a typical night usually consisted of three things. 
First, a glass of his favourite spirit; preferably scotch in his hand.
Second, a cigar tucked in between his fingers
And third, a random girl in his bed chambers. It didn't matter if his company for the night shared the same interests as him, it didn't matter if she liked him for who he was or if she liked him solely for being the heir to the massive Malfoy fortune. 
Come morning, he would never have to see her again anyway. 
His Father, Lucius always chastised him for bringing a different girl as a plus one to social events. Even Narcissa wasn't all too pleased about her son engaging in all these hedonistic activities and bedding random girls. 
The friends he’d grown up with were all well on their way to settling down and having children while he was still not even close to having a serious relationship. 
“Why can’t you be more like Zabini?” Lucius would say, everytime the Malfoys sat down for a family dinner. Narcissa would agree to this while expressing her desire for grandchildren and Draco would have to refrain from choking on his dinner. 
Blaise Zabini, was happily engaged to longtime girlfriend Daphne Greengrass and they were busy planning their Summer wedding. 
Every time Draco would meet Blaise for a drink, all he’d talk about was Daphne, the wedding, floral arrangements, invites and party favours. Just last week, Blaise even confessed to having already thought out names for his future children. 
Taking a final sip of his scotch, Draco placed his glass on his desk and returned to his bed, where a random brunette girl was peacefully asleep. 
He took a few moments to recall her given name in his mind but this attempt remained futile. He couldn’t even remember how he felt while they were doing the deed a few hours prior. 
His father was right, he was slowly turning into, for a lack of a better term, “Pig person.”
As he quietly slipped into his bed next to the brunette, he started to think about all the one night stands he’d had in the last few months. 
One night stands are appropriately called one night stands for a reason. He knew that. 
But it wasn't his fault he couldn’t get that one particular night from four months ago with that one particular girl out of his system. 
It had all started out so innocently. 
A chance encounter at a bar, alcohol fueled conversation, his hands on her hips on the dance floor and his lips on her lips by the end of the night. 
He’d never before met anybody so charming yet painfully frustrating in his life. 
Y/n. Y/l/n. 
Distinctive features, expressive eyes and lips that quirked upward with a wicked smile.She had one of those faces that had the capability of engraving itself into one’s subconscious and the way her brows furrowed in annoyance indicated that she might have been aware and unnerved by it. 
In the few hours he’d spent with her, she’d stimulated his brain with her wits and intellect. She’d made him care about uninteresting things like the witch burnings in the 14th Century. She’d challenged his predetermined notions and world view.
Everything about her was vivacious.
Her effervescence reminded him of a freshly opened bottle of sparkling Rosé on a hot summers day. Crisp yet sweet if you took in a moment for the flavours to sink in. 
And Merlin was this girl could kiss!
The way she gently nipped on his lower lip and teasingly traced her tongue left him with something more to be desired. 
Nothing happened with Y/n that night. Nothing except feverish kisses and whispers of “I want you.”
They’d spent the whole night talking. He’d never spent the night with a girl and not done anything before. 
And she’d left before he could even manage to open his eyes the next morning. 
She’d disappeared without a sign or trace.
Nothing but her fruity fresh scent on his pillows remained to remind him that she was in fact real and not some hallucination. 
Draco went the the very same bar again the next day with his hopes held high. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again. 
But to his utter dismay, y/n never showed up. 
Soon, it became a habit of his to go to the bar and wait for her.
He’d gotten so desperate at one point that he even interrogated the bar keep about the girl that had seemingly managed to capture his attention in the span of a night. 
But no matter how hard he tried, Draco never got any answers. 
She became nothing but a distant ghost of a rather blissfully perfect night. 
Just when he was about to toss away the memories of y/n and her pretty lips inside a locked and chained box in his head, he heard his house elf appear with a pop into his bed chambers. 
“Master Malfoy, this letter just came for you.” The elf said quietly as he stretched out his arm to hand Draco a sealed envelope. 
Draco would have told his elf off for appearing in his chambers in the middle of the night but decided against it when he saw the scrawl of Blaise’s messy handwriting on the envelope. 
It was two in the morning and a rather odd time for Blaise to be sending him a letter. 
Assuming that it must be something urgent, Draco quickly ripped open the seal and unfolded the letter. 
Draco, 
I write this with a heavy heart and I write this with nothing for company except a bottle of bourbon. 
Daphne left me this morning. 
The wedding is off and it is all my fault. 
To be honest, It did feel like things were going too fast and we were jumping to life altering decisions without taking the time to think and contemplate. 
After thinking all day, I have decided to get married after all. 
Your mother has been rather kind and offered to set me up with a girl that is supposedly “perfect for me.” Although I definitely trust her judgement, It would be great if you could “assist” Narcissa in her search. You are my best friend after all. 
B.Z.
By the time Draco was done reading Blaise’s letter, the girl sleeping next to him had started to toss and turn in her sleep. 
~~~
When his mum flooed into his residence the next morning, Draco’s company for the night, who was named Sylvia by the way, was just on her way out. 
Sylvia was rather laid back and was looking for nothing other than a rebound. Draco had offered her tea but she’d politely declined stating that she had brunch planned with her friends anyway. 
“And who is this charming young lady, Draco?” Narcissa asked. 
“She’s Sylvia and Sylvia was just on her way out.” Draco said in a clipped voice before literally shoving an annoyed looking Sylvia into the fireplace. 
“It was nice meeting you Mrs. Malfoy.” Sylvia said in a calm and polite voice, with floo powder in her hands. “See you around Draco.” 
“And I thought, you were finally serious for once.” Narcissa sighed before sinking down into one of the many chairs Draco had in his living room. 
Draco wanted to say something sarcastic in response but he bit his tongue and held it all back. There were more pressing matters at hand that required his attention. Like helping his mum find an appropriate match for Blaise who has so casually placed such a huge responsibility on his shoulders. 
The responsibility required him to go on multiple, rather tiresome “dates” set up by his mother. 
The first girl he met mistook him for Blaise. 
The second girl he met confessed that she was being coaxed into the meeting by her overbearing parents and had a secret Muggle boyfriend that she loved with her whole heart. 
The third girl he met was one of Blaise’s ex girlfriends.
The fourth girl turned out to be one of Draco’s own one night stands that had ended on a sour note.
It was safe to say that Draco returned to his mother that night with his shirt stained burgundy from the wine she’d poured over his head. He deserved it though.
Narcissa even agreed that he’d deserved it because she broke into a chuckle when her son walked into the Malfoy Manor with drops of wine falling from his blond hair. 
“Well this is a disaster.” Draco muttered to his mother who gave him an accomplished looking smile in return.
“This was a Disaster.” She quipped, before leaning towards the coffee table to pour herself some more tea. “Luckily, I’ve already found someone I deem to be a suitable partner for Blaise.”
“You have?” 
“I have. I too have been pulling some reins and meeting people personally for Blaise. He is like a son to me after all.” 
“Looks like I got splashed with a vintage red for no apparent reason then.” Draco muttered before using his wand to summon a clean cotton shirt. 
Narcissa simply shook her head at her son and stood up from her chair. “I’ve actually invited her for tea today so that you’d be able to meet her as well. Why don’t you fix your hair and put on a clean shirt before she gets here hm?”
Draco knew there was no point in arguing with his mother. 
When Narcissa Malfoy wanted things done, she’d sure as hell go ahead and get them done. A true Slytherin she was. 
He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and used a cleaning charm on his hair. He would have preferred to shower but he didn’t really have the time to dilly-dally around.
“Fancy seeing you here.” He heard a voice say, just as he was about to put on his clean shirt. 
It was a familiar voice and it raised prickling goosebumps all over his exposed flesh.
The goosebumps were a natural reaction to hearing a voice he’d replayed over and over in his head every single night for the last four months. 
In front of him stood Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh. Very much real and not a ghost of his imagination, clad in a blush coloured midi dress with a sweetheart neckline. 
He opened his mouth to answer but his mother beat him to it. 
“Welcome to our home. Sit down, have some tea with us.” Narcissa said in her best hostess voice and all Draco could do was force his hanging jaw shut. 
~~~~~~
The next few hours felt like the longest yet shortest few hours of his life. 
He was still processing the fact that he had in fact seen the girl, the ghost, the memory right in front of his eyes, wearing a dress that made her look like a scene in a vintage film. 
His palms were sweaty, his head was reeling, his throat was as dry as the Sahara and he could barely pay any attention to a word his mother was saying. 
“Draco?” Narcissa cleared her throat when he failed to respond. “Draco dear, are you listening?”
“Yes mother.” He replied curtly before taking a sip of his tea in a desperate attempt to soothe his throat. 
After what seemed like another torturous hour of tea and polite conversation, you thanked Narcissa for having you and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before taking the floo network. 
“The Y/l/n family has been a friend to our family for years.” Narcissa commented. “I think Blaise would be rather fond of y/n. What do you think, Draco?”
He wanted to tell his mother about the time he spent with you four months ago.
He wanted to tell her that he was ready for a serious relationship if it was with you. 
He never really cared for the colour pink but it suddenly felt like a rather nice colour. 
You were witty, clever, sincere and extremely gorgeous. Of course Blaise would like you. He’d be a fool not to. 
After taking a few more seconds to carefully contemplate the situation at hand, Draco finally opened his mouth. 
“Yes, I think Blaise would like Y/n.”
Narcissa looked at him with a satisfied smile and the weight of a fully grown giant landed on Draco’s shoulder. 
Maybe you weren't Blaise’s cup of tea.
Maybe he’ll get back together with Daphne. Yeah, that would be perfect. 
But what if he didn’t?
Could Draco live his whole life knowing that he was absolutely smitten with his Best Friend’s soon to be Fiancée?
~~~
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258 notes · View notes
crackheadgeminibby · 3 years
Text
better for you
pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader
warnings: age gap, angst, language
word count: 2.7k
a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍
i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform
not my picture
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You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.
You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.
As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.
You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.
You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.
Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.
You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.
But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.
You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??
It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.
So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.
A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.
Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?
You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,
“Hello?”
You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”
You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”
“Have you watched the news today?”
You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”
Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”
You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?
“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”
You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.
You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.
chris💙, 11:01pm:
Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍
You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.
You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.
You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.
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When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.
You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.
When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.
You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.
5 missed calls
12 messages
You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.
You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.
will, 7:31am:
When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?
you, 7:32am:
i didn’t
yet
will, 7:32am:
You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?
You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.
you, 7:33am:
as you should(:
You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.
chris💙, 5:22am:
Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.
I’m so sorry
Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.
You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.
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As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.
You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.
You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.
chris💙, 6:15pm:
I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.
Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?
You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.
you, 6:17pm:
i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning
As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.
chris💙, 6:17pm:
Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?
Can I call you?
You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.
you, 6:18pm:
i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry
chris💙, 6:18pm:
Okay, I’m sorry
Good night
You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.
You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.
You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.
You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.
You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.
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You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.
As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.
When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.
As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”
Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”
“Ow… What the fuck?”
You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.
“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”
Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.
“What are you even doing here?”
Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”
You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,
“So, London seemed to be very fun.”
Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”
You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”
Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”
You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”
“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”
Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”
You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”
Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.
“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”
Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”
“What way?”
You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”
Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”
Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.
“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”
You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”
Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.
“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”
He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”
You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”
“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”
You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”
“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”
You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”
“And, baby, I’m sorry.”
You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”
Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”
Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”
You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,
“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”
Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”
306 notes · View notes
knullanon · 3 years
Text
how the symbiotes stole you from one another #3
this took 5 hours in total yay
words: 4627
warnings: manipulation, kidnapping, dads being assholes, lmk if I missed any!
Routines in the area where Knull had dropped you off were almost nonexistent. The only reason why you woke up at all was because of the fact that it was already something you did before you got here.
Here, as in this place where Knull seemingly… owned? It was weird. He didn’t just own the land, either, he owned the symbiotes, and by that, Knull, whenever he wanted to talk to you, would just go inside one of their minds, take over, and talk to you. He had done this one multiple occasions, with him always being an asshole about everything. From trying to stop you from going outside, to bitching about your old life, and how you must be enjoying this one. It was really annoying to have to deal with him every damn day, and it was starting to become borderline creepy.
He wouldn’t care about your privacy, only how you were holding up. Literally nothing could stop him from entering your room. He removed the lock when you first got there, and then just left you. Nothing to do besides clean, fuck around, and be bored to death. The only thing you could really do otherwise bsides talk to that asshole, is just try and find something to look at.
So far, you’ve been able to tell that the previous owners of the land were evicted: probably by force by the numerous blood stains all over the place, hiding under whatever Knull didn’t want to clean. Another thing you noticed was that the area you were in used to be covered with trees, but they seemed to be all cut down recently. They smelt fresh and didn’t have any dirt or grime on the stumps. You had to assume it was a safety precaution. For him, at least.
It didn’t take long for you to start snooping around and finding different things, like a hidden diary, all written in russian, an old art kit, and a calendar dated to that year. These items, and their good conditions they were found in, only solidifies your theory that Knull just found a random property and killed the people living there. It also solidified the fact that Knull really didn’t know you existed until that night. Or, morning. Whatever time you were at the gas station. You were able to tell how long you had been taken. 2 weeks just tonight.
It was annoying the hell out of you how long staying with these assholes would seem. Two months with Eddie and venom, and then 3 months with carnage and cletus.
And now 2 weeks with this asshole, probably more. You really wanted out of this damn place. Actually, you wanted out of this weird game they had. Whoever got you first got to keep you until someone else came along. And tried to do the same thing.
As you grabbed some random clothes, and walked into the bathroom, you tried to remember before everything had happened. Before you decided to walk back home alone, like an idiot. That's what you were, wasn’t it? A fucking idiot for thinking it was a good idea. You really thought that nothing would happen, would it? And now this.
Shoving open the bathroom door, you almost didn’t see the 7 foot tall symbiote sitting in the chair across from the bed. This one was known for having a more emo look to them. With being dark blue and with little streaks of even darker red, they were always quiet and silent when you saw them. They were usually the ones to bring you food, guard the house you were in. They were also the one that Knull preferred to get into when he decided to speak to you.
The symbiote themselves were rumble, and he was… actually quite pleasant. It seemed Knull had let this batch keep their personalities, maybe at the price of kneeling before him. You didn’t know.
What you did know was that Knull was now controlling Rumble through whatever bullshit he did to be this powerful. Rumble, or, Knull technically, was reading an old newspaper dated a few months ago. It was from somewhere in Idaho, where you would assume you were located. Yes, Eddie lived in San Francisco, but when carnage took you wherever the hell he took you, and then Knull, well, it was confusing to say the least.
Anyways, the one good thing about Knull was that he really didn’t care what you thought of the place, as he said it, “a temporary arrangement on both our parties''. Pretentious bitch.
Knull put down the newspaper, and gave a smile, before gesturing with his arm to the bed you had just made. “Ah, _____, sit. Let's talk shall we?”
You didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him, but you followed his command anyway. You tossed your clothes into an old bucket that you had placed in the corner of the room and walked towards the bed, before sitting on it. Knull smiled again with that weird mouth. Rumble never smiled, so of course it would look weird when he did. Of course, not of his own will, but still.
“So, how have you been liking your new enclosure?” Did- Did he just-
You brushed it off, not wanting to anger him. “It’s… fine. Every home comes with its ups and downs.” you hoped he would get the message about calling a home an enclosure. It makes you feel like a pet rather than a person. If Knull noticed your wording, then he ignored it. Instead, he picked up the newspaper again, saying, “Good, good. I’m glad you could understand the circumstances of your predicament.”
You tried hard not to roll your eyes, remembering what Carnage or Venom would say- even now, if you had no idea where they were, their words and opinions still sat with you months later. Instead, you nodded your head to his words, and sat in silence waiting for him to say anything else. Knull did not say anything for a few minutes. Long, agonizing minutes. It reminded you of being with Eddie and Venom, those two assholes. When they were working, they required the utmost silence otherwise they couldn’t focus. They never got mad at you, but they would always try to put you up to something, like reading. Which is why you would read all their books on crime rates, detectives, natural disasters, anything to pass the time while they were working.
It got you entertained for the most part. Sitting in a room with nothing to do, for 2 months was more difficult than you ever thought it would be.
“Are you thinking of your previous hosts and their accommodations?”
Knull pulled you from your thoughts, and even though he was reading the newspaper, you were able to tell he wanted an answer. You shifted from your spot at the edge of the bed, before answering with, “U-Uh, yeah, I am.”
“Hmm.”
He continued to read for a moment, before he pulled the newspaper down a little to view you. “Are you not tired of them?”
“What do you mean?”
This time, he put the newspaper in his lap. “Venom and Eddie. Carnage and Cletus. How have they treated you in the few months you’ve known them?”
You had to sit there and think for a moment, wondering where this conversation was going. What was he trying to do this time?
“Well, venom and Eddie were… constricting. I never had anything to do. Besides reading the books on the shelf, but even then I had to do that discreetly. They didn’t like me doing those things. Or, rather, reading those things. They said it was too… graphic.”
“Ah, I see.” he acknowledged, picking up the newspaper again. “And Carnage and Cletus? How was their company?”
You really wanted to hide in a hole now. “They were… fine.”
“Were they, though?”
You wondered if it would just be worth it to tell everything: how you felt about Eddie, how you felt about Cletus, and how you felt about this asshole doing the same thing the rest of them had done.
“...No, they weren’t.”
He gave a small smile, before he asked, “Oh? Please do tell me more.”
You knew what he was doing, what he was playing at, and yet, you fell right for it. “They would tell me… they would say that no one was going to come for me. No one cared. Not my family, not Eddie, no one. Only them.”
He nodded along, and when he realized you were done venting, he said, “well, aren’t you glad that you’re with me now?”
Turning to face him, you gave him a glare. “Excuse me?”
“Think about it. With one of them, they gave you limited resources to entertain yourself, and the other made you feel like nothing. With me, I give you free reign to do whatever you please. You may ask for whatever you wish, visit whoever you choose, as long as you plead your loyalty to me.”
You stared at him, before you turned your back towards him, mumbling, “Liar.”
He chuckled, and you heard the newspaper crinkle. “I’m not making any jokes. Pledge our loyalty, and you will receive anything you would ever want.”
“Would that include being let go to see my family again?”
“Yes, actually. You would just have to come back when you were done with your visits.”
That caught your attention. He would let you go back? Really? He did say you would go back to him when you were done with your “visits”... but still, better than what the other two were offering.
You thought for a moment before the doubts started to kick in. How do we know he won’t betray you when you do pledge your loyalty to him? How do we know he won’t just keep you here forever? What ounce of trust should we put in him when everyone has kicked us when we were already down?
Almost as if he heard your thoughts, Knull said, “I will give you time for your answer. After all, I have years and years to spare.”
With that he folded the newspaper, setting it down gently, before you saw something spark in his eyes and Rumble returned to his own mind. He sat there unmoving for a few moments, before he sat up and looked at you. “I assume he just wanted to talk?”
You sighed, feeling tired only at 7 in the morning already. “Yes, Rumble, that’s all he came here for.”
He gave a hum of acknowledgment before he got up and walked to the exit to the room. Before he left, however, he said, “Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”
Before you could say anything, he left you to watch the door again, just before you could ask him to stop calling the home an enclosure, he shut the door softly. You were about to say something, but decided it was not worth it, so instead, you opted to just continue on with what you had to do throughout the day.
~~~~~~~~~
As Rumble looked on as you would clean and dry out clothes on line and leave them for the hot summer day to dry, hopefully by the end of the day, you had mumbled out when first getting out the big hamper. Next to it, you had a couple pieces of clothing sitting in another basket covered by water and soap. Currently, you were wringing out all of the water from a white top, trying to not stretch it out.
Rumble grumble out something, before he heard him in his head:
“Rumble, I would assume you would have the decency to not talk badly about my daughter behind her back.”
Rumble froze up before he quickly set his posture more straightened as he watched you put the shirt on the line, before going to grab another piece of clothing. “No, Lord Knull, I was just noting the… strange enclosure you had chosen for her.”
He heard Knull chuckle, before responding with, “Oh, Rumble, you should know my plan by now.”
Rumble sent a wave of confusion to Knull, indicating that no, he had no idea what his plan was.
Knull simply sighed, before he continued. “I have had plans to bring her to Klyntar, our homeworld, and yet, I have a feeling she will not be able to live there. For a while, I thought I would only be able to visit her through the symbiotes already on earth, or just get there myself, with obvious consequences. However, I’ve found a third option. There is a way to bring her here without having to worry for her safety.”
Suddenly, Rumble received a vision, or more specifically, a live feed of what Knull was looking at. It looked like a symbiote, and yet, it was… odd. It did not have a mind of its own, it's like it was waiting to be filled by something. And this one did not need a host, either. From Knull’s own memories, it seemed he created this one to rely solely on its own, however, for the need to do normal things, it needed someone to fill its mind. Rumble suddenly realized where this was going.
“Lord Knull, you aren’t saying-”
“Yes, I’m saying exactly what you are thinking of.”
Rumble saw Knull walk up to the symbiote, and stroke it with his claw. It did not respond. “This symbiote that I have created will need a mind, someone who has already been born, only their mind. I am planning on giving it to ______ and then letting her rest there, before taking away her body and giving her mind to.... Well, I have not named this one. Maybe I will name it… _______. After her.”
~~~~~~~
You laid the last shirt in the bucket, and when you tried to grab another and felt that there were no more, you sighed and grabbed the dirty water, and poured it out on the grass, not caring if the soap would kill the already dead plants. Then you put the hamper and the bucket on top of each other and carried it back into the house. When you reached the sink, you put the buckets in the sink and turned the tap: only for nothing to come out.
“Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”
Fucking hell. You got the hamper out and when you saw that it was relatively clean, you let it go, but the dirty water one…
Yeah, you had to clean this before the next laundry day.
It did not help that there were dishes that needed to be washed. You sighed and left the bucket on the counter, and you were about to walk back up to your room, when you had an idea. You walked outside and saw Rumble standing near a cut down tree, waiting for something. Walking up to him, you said, “Hey, Rumble, is there another water source around here?”
He gave you a look, before he said, “Yes, there is one, why must you use it? We will be moving next week to a new location.”
“Well, if it's gonna take a week, I hope you have some form of water to bring up here for the dishes, or showers, or clothes, or-”
“Alright, alright I get it.” he stalked over to you and looked towards another symbiote, probably trying to talk to them before the other symbiote simply nodded and walked to another part of the property.
“I will take you to a river, but after that, the others will gather the water for you, am I clear?”
You nodded. “Good, lets go.”
~~~~~~
Anti-venom stood at the clearing, looking at the decomposing bodies, just two women and two men. He could tell they had been there for more than a week, but not enough for them to completely decompose.
Anti-venom looked around before he tried to smell where they were from. Unfortunately, whoever dumped their bodies was smart in how they covered up the scent. There was almost nothing out here, and with the fact that someone covered up their scent made it more unnerving.
He didn’t try to think of how they died, only giving them his wishes before he started to walk away. Just a couple meters away was a little river that he knew expanded as you went up the stream. He walked over and saw nothing of old blood on the rocks, so they must’ve died somewhere else-
What was that?
He whirled his head towards the start of the river, upwards maybe by a few miles. Even out here, the stench of Knull and his underdogs were there. He growled, remembering how Knull used them for his own gain. He quickly theorized that for some reason, Knull was here and he had killed these people- but why? What would make him do this?
Anti-venom decided to find out on his own, as he started to sprint his way up the river.
~~~~~~
“Why did Lord Knull choose you, anyway?”
“Choose me as what?”
You were currently at the river, cleaning out the dishes in the bucket, and then rinsing them off. Rumble was nearby, sitting in his own little area, and he was also bored. He wanted to know things that Knull would not tell him: would not tell anyone, to be more precise.
You looked back at him, before you turned back to the dishes. “I don’t question it anymore. I never had a choice, I was just… chosen. It’s something I’ve had to get used to for the past months, and even now I don’t have anything to do, anything to say.”
Rumble quirked an eye. “But Lord Knull gave you a choice, did he not?”
“Oh, yeah, please tell me, what did he give me a choice on?”
“On being free to do as you please.”
You stopped washing the little plate you had, and you turned back to face him. “What?”
“He gave you a choice. You could swear loyalty to him, or-”
“Ok, enough with the loyalty bullshit, I’m tired of hearing it.” You had gone back to the dishes, scrubbing furiously at the plate. “I get it, it's a better option than Carnage or Venom, but could I at least have the option of never seeing you fucks ever again?”
Rumble did not say anything more, letting you get out your anger by scrubbing the dishes that were left, and tossing them into the bucket.
When you were finally done, you tried to pick up the bucket, but all of that scrubbing and cleaning made your arms sore. Rumble decided to restore his reputation with you by getting the bucket for you. You didn’t complain, as your arms were extremely sore from your anger washing.
The walk back to the property was peaceful. You weren’t angry at Rumble: to be honest, he was a sweetheart. He would help you out with so many things it was almost unbelievable. He was much more pleasant to be around than Knull, that was for sure.
Even if he had to call Knull “Lord Knull” each time you met, it was fine. The little trail that you two took was getting more smoother as you got closer and closer to the property. When you reached the clearing, you saw the normal sight:
5 symbiotes around the area stalking, waiting. They were most likely on guard, and even then, they had their eyes on you, making sure there was no funny business between you and Rumble.
Walking up to the one story house, you felt… wrong. Of course, this had always felt wrong, but this time it was like someone was watching you from afar. Before you got onto the porch, you turned to look at all the symbiotes watching you. Nothing unusual, the normal amount that would stand guard in this area. Maybe one of them is looking too long, you thought, as Rumble opened the door for you and you both went inside.
Unfortunately, no one noticed the speck of white in the bushes, hiding. Waiting.
~~~~~~~
It was almost time for you to start getting ready for bed. You already had dinner, and now all you needed was just a nice warm bed. You sighed as you made sure everything was in its place, before you walked back in the hallway and into your room. You got out your favorite pair of pajamas, and started to change. You already had a shower last night, it wouldn’t matter if you had one today.
As you changed, your mind went back to the conversation with Knull earlier that day. Would he really let you do whatever you wanted if you just… spared your loyalty, as he called it? Could you see your family and friends again? Could you tell them you were ok and not harmed?
But, he did say that you couldn’t stay there… you would have to go back with him… where did he live, anyway? He was an alien god, so… space? But… where?
Maybe he lived on some random planet and acquired a bunch of power, you had no idea-
“YOU WOULD ALL DARE TO HELP KNULL AND HIS PLANS?!”
That didn’t sound good. You rushed out of your room, pajamas halfway on, and peeked outside of the kitchen window, where you saw everything.
In the middle of the clearing, stood tall and bloody, was another symbiote. He was white with some black accents here and there, and most importantly, he was holding fire.
You already knew that symbiotes didn’t like heat, or fire. Especially not fire.
You remember one time when you tried to escape Eddie with fire. It did not work out well. You were locked in a closet, and fortunately for you, that was where you stored your books.
Anyways, you had no time to think of those times, when you were running from whatever the fuck is going on outside the house. You ran back to your room to put on a shirt, and when you were finished putting on your socks, running was heard from the hallway.
Rumble came through the door and dragged you by your forearm down towards a specific spot in the floor. He then lifted a larger floorboard that revealed a crawl space. He shoved you in, gently as possible, before he said, “Stay. Here. I’ll come for you when I beat him.”
“Who?” You were about to ask, but he slammed the door shut, leaving you to fear for the next few minutes.
You sat there for a few more minutes, before you heard crackling. Crackling of fire. You were desperately trying to open the door, but it seemed to be glued shut: there was nothing that could open it.
At this point, you were starting to cry. The symbiotes couldn’t stand fire, how would they stand this? You were desperate to leave, to escape: you never wanted to be here, with these people who thought they could help you. You wanted to go home, to see your family, friends, the people who loved and cherished you, and actually respected your boundaries.
The door was broken inwards and you felt every muscle in your body stop. You crouched a little from the trap door, hoping they didn’t hear you. From they're desperate steps and quick feet, it was obviously not Rumble or any other symbiote you knew.
You were pulled from your thoughts as the steps went into the hallway. As they walked by, slower, you held your breath. If they found you… well, you knew what happened when new symbiotes would find you.
You let out a silent sigh when they passed the door… only for them to come rushing back. Without even knowing it, they ripped open the trap door, revealing you, tired, scared, and cold.
The symbiote you saw was the exact one that was outside, who was attacking all the other symbiotes.
He looked shocked, as if he didn’t know you were there. “Child…” he asked, as he reached down to try and grab you, “what are you doing in a place like this?”
He picked you up with the utmost gentleness and care, like you would shatter if he just yanked you out. He cradled you within his arms, like you were a baby. He was a giant compared to you, being almost 7 or 8 feet tall.
“Where are your parents?” he asked, taking you with him, walking out of the house. You tried to crawl out of his palm, but he stopped you each time. “I-I don't know.”
He tried to give you a sympathetic look. “Oh, my sweet dear, don’t be afraid. I will k-”
He suddenly jumped into the fire, and you screamed expecting to be burnt along with all the weeds.
However, you didn’t feel anything. Turns out this was because the symbiote had taken you up into the air, so while he was holding you by your waist, he was also holding you out of the reach of the fire. He held his hand up high, not only to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt, but as you saw Rumble on the ground, close to the fire, you realized it was to get you out of his grip.
“Rumble. You used to be such an open minded symbiote. Now look at you. You are just leeching off of Lord Knull, the one who enslaves you and the rest of our kind!”
The white symbiotes seemingly noticed you again, and said, “and you have the audacity to bring an innocent child into this mess! How dare you!”
With that, he started to walk into the fire, which surprisingly was not burning him. He still held you up high so you wouldn’t be burnt by the flames, which was nice. You looked back at Rumble, who was trying to get up, but the injuries on his legs seemed severe. The fire was closing in on him as well.
You felt bad for him. You reached out, but before you could do anything, Anti venom started to sprint away from the house. The last thing you saw of Rumble was him collapsing onto the ground, broken and beaten.
When you were out of the fire, the symbiote lowered you to his eye level. “My name is Anti-Venom, tiny child. What is yours?”
BONUS:
Rumble sat on the remains of the house: nothing was left of it when Lord Knull appeared. It was a miracle he had even gotten the distress alert, a bigger one he had arrived in time to save rumble himself. Every other symbiote was gone, either from the fire or the white symbiote. Anti-Venom was his name.
“So, you failed at getting back _____ for me?”
“... Lord Knull, I am deeply sorry, but-”
“I don’t want to hear excuses, Rumble, I want to see my daughter! I want to seeher before the other two get her, or worse she falls for that idiotic Anti-Venom, do you hear me?!”
Rumble sat there waiting for Lord Knull to be done with his rant, before he said, “Yes, Lord Knull. I understand.”
Lord Knull stood up and started to walk away. “Good. I will try to locate her myself. In the meantime, find out everything you can about this Anti-Venom. I want his secrets, every dirty little thing about him, do you understand?”
“Yes, Lord Knull, it will be done.”
And with that, Lord Knull was gone, leaving Rumble to dwell in his own failures.
--------
almost forgot, @anxiousnerdwritings this was for u
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capricorn-0mnikorn · 2 years
Text
Ending Automobile Supremacy: some nostalgic thoughts from one of the younger Boomers / older Gen-X’ers
Thinking about this post, about the automotive industry pushing self-driving cars, instead of mass-transit.
I’ve been physically disabled all my life. I also know I’ve been highly privileged all my life. My father had a well-paying, and high-status job as an airline captain. And this was a time before college tuition was orders of magnitude higher than wages. So going on to college after high school was an “of course” decision. And since I don’t drive because of my disability, the NY State Office of Vocational Rehabilitation paid for my room and board on campus.
I knew my situation was not the norm, back then. And I definitely know it’s not the norm today.  I also recognize the horrible ableism of our current state of Academia, what with the relentless pressure to compete, and the hoops you have to jump through to get accommodations.
But I still miss living on campus, and wish I could go back there. Those years were the happiest of my life.
Why?
Because each of the college / university campuses I lived on* were designed as a complete community unit, where the assumption was that most of the residents did not have cars. Even when, as a wheelchair user, I had to schedule extra time to get somewhere, and take the long way ‘round, there was an alternate route to take. Places dedicated to socializing were abundant, and were always close to places for working, eating, and housing. If the theater majors were putting on a play, I could decide to go see it on the spur of the moment, the same if classmates and I wanted to study for an upcoming test together. When the elevator broke down, and I couldn’t get to class, the professor was able to arrange a different meeting place that I could get to. And between the buildings, there were plenty of places to sit and rest.
My point is:
If it is possible to build a (nearly) car-free community infrastructure for the most privileged, than it is possible to build it for Everybody.
We know how to do this, because we’ve been doing it for generations. And the only reason this community design is the specialized exception, rather than the rule, is that old combination of classism and racism.
*(there were three in total, and the first one was an absolute, crash-and-burn, disaster, but it was a disaster because the new director of Disabled Student Services was a passive aggressive authoritarian, and the academic culture of that particular school was antithetical to my personality, not the physical infrastructure of the campus)
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kurowrites · 4 years
Note
May i ask for WangXian? With nos;
1 (roomates rite?) with 6 (fake dating i think?)
And 5 (something about emotional capacity of a brick? Strangely enough i wish that LWJ would be the one to say this to WWX..if possible 🥺🥺)
I also sorta hope this evolves in to a FWB situation but just the thought of fluff n hilarity from this prompt is already making me squeal n cackle 🤣🤣🤣
Please n thank you 🥰🥰🥰
Have some dumb weekend fluff.
---
When Wei Ying arrived at home, he had a very precise plan how he wanted the rest of the evening to go. He was feeling an exhaustion that barely left him standing, and all he wished for was to eat (though that one was optional, honestly), get fucked into his mattress (though he would probably have to do with a quick wank), and then sleep for the next twelve hours.
Not more, not less.
As they are wont to do, things didn’t turn out quite as he had imagined them on his tedious way home. When he finally walked through the door of the apartment that he and Lan Zhan shared, his first target was the kitchen, where he hoped he would be able to stealthily unearth something from the freezer that could be warmed up in the oven.
When he entered the kitchen, however, he found Lan Zhan at the stove, stirring a pot of food that smelled heavenly. Lan Zhan turned around when he heard the door open, and he gave Wei Ying a critical once-over before he announced: “Take a shower, the food will be ready soon.”
Well, Wei Ying thought, turning around and heading towards the bathroom almost as if he was guided by some higher power. It was rather hard to argue with that.
He had no idea why Lan Zhan was awake this late at night, and why he was cooking dinner, of all things. But Wei Ying was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when he was this tired. If a shower was the most direct path to food prepared by Lan Zhan, then he would do that without a single complaint.
The shower helped slightly with his exhaustion and general sense of discomfort, and when he finally left the bathroom, he felt slightly more conscious and decidedly more human than before. And when he stepped back into the kitchen, a steaming, hearty bowl of curry was waiting for him at the table, looking perfect and delicious and like everything that Wei Ying had not dared to hope for tonight.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying moaned, making a beeline towards the table, stuffing the food into his mouth almost before he had even taken a seat. “You are the best. The bestest. A god among mortals.”
“Hn,” Lan Zhan said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with that statement. “Eat.”
That, Wei Ying did without needing to be told twice. Lan Zhan had made the curry exactly the way Wei Ying liked it, rich in flavour and very spicy, and it was just so good. Getting to eat Lan Zhan’s cooking, full stop, was already a boon. And Lan Zhan had made this curry just for him, had waited until after his bedtime to feed Wei Ying. He truly was the bestest roommate that ever lived.
Wei Ying eagerly devoured his bowl, and Lan Zhan even gave him seconds.
So good! So delicious!
After he had finished his curry, Wei Ying still felt exhausted, but now he had a warm belly full of delicious food, and a warm flicker in his chest that was the knowledge that his roommate cared enough about him to make food when Wei Ying was down on his last leg. Things were looking a little brighter now.
And Lan Zhan was still in the kitchen, putting away the last of the cookware that he had washed while Wei Ying was eating.
Wei Ying looked at him, and considered. After he had already received the deluxe version of the first item on his to-do list tonight, he decided that maybe his luck was just good enough to get the second item on the list checked off, too.
He got up and put his dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and then he waited until Lan Zhan had put away the last pan. Once Lan Zhan’s hands were free, he smoothly slipped in between Lan Zhan and the kitchen counter, and wrapped his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck.
“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, a sneaky smile playing on his lips. “You are still awake.”
“Indeed,” Lan Zhan calmly observed.
“Mh, I missed you, oh roommate mine,” Wei Ying sighed, a little dramatically. “I feel like I haven’t seen you forever. And now that you’re here…”
He leaned in, gently rubbing his nose against the soft skin of Lan Zhan’s neck.
He felt the tiniest of shudders in response, and then Lan Zhan’s arms wrapped around his waist.
Jackpot.
It wasn’t always easy, figuring out when Lan Zhan was in the mood. They were roommates after all, and generally they just lived together. But sometimes, even the rigid Lan Zhan needed to let off a little steam, and when he was in the right mood, he was perfectly fine with fucking Wei Ying into various surfaces around their apartment. Wei Ying obviously had no objections to that; not only was Lan Zhan really hot, he was also really good at sex.
Maybe it was sad to say that his entire sex life consisted of occasionally seducing his roommate, but it was good. Really good. And Lan Zhan seemed to feel the same, because Wei Ying was pretty sure that Lan Zhan wasn’t having any kind of ‘relations’ with anyone else.
So yes, they had done this many times before, and by now, Wei Ying had become pretty skilled at reading when Lan Zhan was open to seduction. Still, the moment before he could be sure that Lan Zhan was willing to respond was always a nerve-wracking one. Luckily today, Lan Zhan’s hands on his waist spoke a clear language.
He grinned up at Lan Zhan and said cheekily, “I’ve been wanting to get fucked into my mattress very, very thoroughly all day. Honestly, I think all that’s between me and twelve hours of sleep is one good orgasm.”
Lan Zhan didn’t reply, but his hands squeezed Wei Ying’s waist once in response to Wei Ying’s words.
Wei Ying moaned in return, leaning up to press soft kisses against Lan Zhan’s lips.
“You can do with me whatever you want,” he promised. “I’m all yours.”
His clumsy attempt at seduction was apparently deemed sufficient, because Lan Zhan started herding Wei Ying towards his bedroom.
Being in Lan Zhan’s care was always amazing, because Lan Zhan never failed to really take care of everything, especially in moments like these. He silently guided Wei Ying to his bed, stripped him out of his clothing (folding and putting everything away properly, which shouldn’t be hot but was, anyway), then readied lube and condoms, and before long, he was arranging Wei Ying on the bed with almost adorable intent and focus.
Wei Ying let it all happen; he felt too lazy to move on his own volition and was perfectly willing to let Lan Zhan take the wheel after he had signalled his willingness. Lan Zhan moved his limbs around, lifted his hips, and suddenly, Wei Ying found himself in a position where he was more or less pinned on the bed, open for Lan Zhan but not really able to move otherwise.
It was perfect. This was exactly what he had fantasised about. When Lan Zhan worked him open and slowly pushed into him, he was unable to do anything but moan and take what Lan Zhan was giving him. It was incredible, getting slowly fucked into the mattress by Lan Zhan. As he was wont to do, he tortured Wei Ying, letting his orgasm build slowly as he thoroughly worked Wei Ying’s body with precise movements. He had never really told Lan Zhan as much, feeling that such a confession end up on the wrong side of revealing, but he felt safe in Lan Zhan’s hands, and only this let something inside him unfurl slowly, something that had been tense and stressed out all day.
It wasn’t necessarily the physical act in itself that made Wei Ying want to sleep with Lan Zhan occasionally, but this feeling of safety, of being taken care of that Lan Zhan seemed to naturally inspire. He sometimes got horny for that feeling alone.
When he finally came, it was with an almost hazy, sluggish kind of intensity, one that made his eyes close and sleep pull at his consciousness almost before he knew it.
He felt a gentle hand on is back, and a whispered ‘Sleep,’ and then he was gone.
---
When Wei Ying woke up the next morning, finally feeling halfway rested again, Lan Zhan was obviously long gone. He always woke so much earlier than Wei Ying, and had probably finished half of his planned tasks for the day already. It was enough to make one feel bad about one’s own achievements, if Wei Ying didn’t have absolutely no hope of every reaching Lan Zhan’s levels of competence.
Wei Ying stretched lazily and wandered into the kitchen to look of food. His plans today mostly consisted of eating and lazing around; the first day in a long while that he would be able to enjoy without having to stress about work, and he intended to enjoy it by doing absolutely nothing.
In the kitchen, he found breakfast prepared for him already – Lan Zhan really was too good to him! Grateful, Wei Ying sat down and dug in with enthusiasm.
Once he was finished, he considered for one moment that he should probably go to the bathroom and try to make himself at least somewhat presentable, but he really wasn’t feeling it. His primary goal today was to vegetate. He didn’t need to look actually human to do that. Instead of going to the bathroom, therefore, he went in search of Lan Zhan. It didn’t take long; he found him in the living room, reading a book on the sofa.
Without ceremony, Wei Ying flopped onto the sofa next to Lan Zhan, leaning his weight onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Lan Zhan, Wei Ying couldn’t help but notice, looked and smelled as good as he always did, while Wei Ying was still a disaster zone. It was truly enviable. Not that Wei Ying felt he had enough energy to put effort into it, right now.
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, rubbing his face against Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “What would I do without a roommate like you? You are the best. Roommate of the year. Maybe of the century. The breakfast wasn’t needed, but appreciated anyway.”
He had expected one of Lan Zhan’s customary little “Hn”s, ignoring Wei Ying in favour of keeping his eyes on the book he was reading. Instead, he felt Lan Zhan’s posture grow stiff, right before Wei Ying was gently pushed off of Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan heaved a heavy sigh that Wei Ying didn’t know how to interpret.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said with a certain sense of gravity in his voice, not quite looking at Wei Ying. “I hate to agree with your brother on anything, but I think he was not entirely wrong when he told you that you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”
Wei Ying jerked back a little. He wouldn’t want to admit it, but the words hurt.
He knew that he wasn’t always the most sensitive person on the planet, but for Lan Zhan to use words like that… He racked his brain, trying to think of what he had done to make Lan Zhan this upset.
Lan Zhan had cooked for him yesterday without Wei Ying asking him to do it, and Wei Ying had said thank you. Wei Ying had asked for sex, but he’d checked in with Lan Zhan first to make sure he was okay with it. And the rest of the time, he’d been unconscious.
Was Lan Zhan upset that he hadn’t really done his share of housework lately, since he’d been so busy with his job?
“Lan Zhan, I –” he laughed nervously, pushing his hands through his hair. “You’re probably right about that, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lan Zhan sent him a look, which was somewhat less angry than Wei Ying had expected it to be (what a relief, Lan Zhan wasn’t actually angry at him), and then he sighed.
“Wei Ying,” he said, and suddenly he sounded a little sad. “You keep calling me roommate.”
“That’s… what you are?” Wei Ying asked, confused.
Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say, because Lan Zhan’s expression soured.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaimed, keeping himself from latching onto Lan Zhan at the last moment. He doubted Lan Zhan wanted Wei Ying to touch him again right now. “Is that wrong?”
Lan Zhan huffed once.
“No, I guess it is not,” he pressed out. “I had simply hoped I would at least merit a ‘friend’ by now.”
Wei Ying gaped at Lan Zhan. Sat and stared at him in disbelief, watching as Lan Zhan’s ears slowly turned a brilliant pink.
“Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed, and then he couldn’t go on, because he was choked with too many feelings.
Lan Zhan, that Lan Zhan, considered him a friend?
A friend??
“Wait,” Wei Ying suddenly realised. “At least a friend?”
Lan Zhan sent him the flattest look he had ever seen. It was genuinely impressive.
“We’re fucking, Wei Ying,” he said, in a tone of voice equally as flat.
There was a beat of silence, a pronouncing ringing that went through the living room, freezing the air in between them for a moment.
And then Wei Ying tipped his head up and burst into laughter, loud and unrestrained. How could he not? Lan Zhan was funny, and Wei Ying was so relieved, and so happy, and…
“I thought you were barely tolerating me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed as he back flopped against the sofa, the sudden storm of emotions ravaging his already exhausted body and dragging him back down as he took a deep breath. “I never thought you would ever –”
He bit on his lips and looked up at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who always took such good care of him.
Lan Zhan, who–
“I love you, Lan Zhan.”
The words left his lips almost against his will.
How could he not say that, when Lan Zhan looked at him with soft, molten eyes, the trace of a blush still staining his cheeks a pretty pink?
He loved this man.
“I really love you, Lan Zhan,” he couldn’t help but repeat. “So, you see, maybe slightly more emotional capacity than a brick. Though I wouldn’t–”
Lan Zhan, judging from the way he lifted Wei Ying into his lap, pressed their hot faces together, and peppered Wei Ying’s lips and cheeks with little kisses, apparently felt the same.  
Definitely more than the emotional capacity of a brick.
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