#the way they can make her feel better even in minute quantities ..

[primrosebow]

Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style

Also I would eat your art 20/10

Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞

Long answer:

_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art

//

!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.

We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.

Charlie //

I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!

Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.

She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.

If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.

She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)

// //

Vaggie //

Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.

// //

"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.

Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.

You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.

Lute //

Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.

But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.

"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone

"Do your worst."

Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?

// //

BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️

Velvette //

"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.

You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.

She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.

When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.

Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.

Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!

I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.

I WOULD download a car.

@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette

[theghostkingisdead]

dpxdc - Neglected Child AU

As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.

There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”

Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.

“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”

“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.

Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.

Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.

The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.

“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”

Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”

The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.

“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”

Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”

There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.

Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”

Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.

Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”

Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.

“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”

Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”

“Tell me.”

“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”

Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”

[rubysunnday]

wanting was enough

requested by @omgbrcat: If you're willing to write for Nikolai, I'm ready to read.

a/n: they asked for fluffy... this is not fluffy like at all and for that i am sorry (i promise to write nik fluff to make up for it) ty ryn for your help

summary: Y/N has loved Nikolai since the day she met him. But now, as the blood begins to run, she has to come to terms with the fact that he'll never be hers.

The room was filled with people she knew, yet Y/N had never felt more alone or more broken.

Nikolai and Alina were engaged and Y/N found herself grieving for something she'd never had. It was an odd thing to feel a part of a group whilst also feeling a million miles away from everyone and everything.

She'd loved Nikolai since the day they'd met in the middle of Kerch, surrounded by people who wanted them dead. From there, friendship had been easy and when she'd sheepishly revealed her Grisha abilities to him - he'd enlisted Tamar and Tolya to teach her how to use them and control them.

Yet, despite the practice, her heartrender talents were still weak and, in Y/N's mind, pathetic. She understood that years of neglect and no practice would do that to someone, but it didn't help. Her confidence was non-existent and when she was surrounded by far more talented Grisha and a living Saint such as Alina, Y/N felt tiny.

Seeing Nikolai and Alina holding hands stung more than it should have. She was used to Nikolai being affectionate with people - affection was how he showed his love. But this was different. Y/N had hardly seen him since they'd gotten back to the palace and something had clearly changed between them.

Either that or it was all in Y/N's mind. She was spending a lot of time inside her head at the minute, doubting herself, doubting her abilities and her place in Nikolai's crew.

She could hear Nikolai's heartbeat from across the room - it's sound familiar and comforting to her in a way it shouldn't have been. Not anymore.

He wasn't hers and never could be hers.

She wasn't sure when friendship had turned to wanting and longing but it had. And she was trying her best to deal with it. To accept that he would never be hers.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Y/N turned and tried not to look startled at Nikolai's sudden appearance by her side. She hadn't even registered him walking over to her. Nikolai grinned crookedly at her and Y/N felt her heart swoop and glide like a bird in the breeze.

"Just wondering what your mother's definition of a big party is when this is a small one," Y/N replied, picking up a glass from a nearby tray and drinking its contents in one swoop.

Nikolai laughed, readjusting his weight from one foot to the other, his right shoulder brushing against Y/N's left. "She likes a party, what can I say. Anything under sixty people and it's intimate."

"I don't even know sixty people," Y/N replied. "I don't think I even know ten."

"It's never about the quantity of friends, it's about the quality," Nikolai replied. "A small, close friend group is better than a distant large one." He nudged her arm with his elbow. "I considered you one of my close friends."

Y/N forced herself to grin at him and tried to ignore how much the words stung at her heart. "Oh," she pointed over at Vasily as he stood up on the dais next to his father, "I think your brother is about to make a speech. You should probably go stand next to your mother and pretend to be interested."

Getting Nikolai to laugh was easy for Y/N, but even though she'd done it many times before, the sound still sent fire coursing through her veins. It wasn't the guarded laugh of a privateer. Or the forced laughter of a prince. It was just Nikolai's laugh.

"I'll be back," he warned, pointing a finger at her. "We need to discuss what you mean by pretending - I always find my brother fascinating."

"Of course you do." Y/N nodded. "I believe that, one hundred percent."

She watched as Nikolai disappeared into the crowd, appearing at his mother's side, ever the doting son. Y/N was impressed with herself that she'd managed to avoid bringing up the engagement. She hadn't had a chance to even mention it to Nikolai - it didn't seem appropriate. But she needed to know if it was genuine or just for show. She need to know for her own mind. How else would she ever be able to move on and accept she was stuck wanting for forever.

Vasily's speech started and Y/N zoned out entirely. He was a weasel of a human and represented everything wrong with Ravka in so many ways. He never had anything interesting or important to say.

It was only because she wasn't listening to Vasily that Y/N noticed the room gradually getting darker. The sun seemingly disappearing and then reappearing only to disappear once again.

She tilted her head back and, as she did so, two shapeless shadows smashed through the glass of the skylight, slamming into the ground and taking two of the first army guards out with them. One of the shadows grabbed Vasily and, in a blink of an eye, ripped him apart.

The screaming started instantly. Y/N's eyes focused on the shadows and she realised with cold horror that they were Kirigan's Nichevo'ya. At once, she began looking for Alina, who was safely on the other side of the room with Tamar and Adrik.

The Nichevo'ya shot towards her and Y/N dodged out the way, turning and running away - because what else could she do? They had no heartbeats and, even if they did, she wouldn't be able to take them down. She wasn't strong enough.

"Y/N!"

Nikolai snatched her hand and pulled her to his side as a table flew across the room, a body following in its path. Y/N gripped Nikolai's jacket for a moment before she let go and forced herself to take a step back, to create space between them.

"Down to the tunnels!" Nikolai yelled, raising his voice to be heard over the screaming. He began to move backwards, his hand still on Y/N's arm. "Regroup there!"

As Adrik and Nadia distracted the Nichevo'ya as best they could, the small party that had gathered behind Nikolai began to follow their now king and had down to the tunnels beneath the palace.

Y/N brought up the rear of the group, keeping one eye over her shoulder incase the Nichevo'ya decided to follow after them. But they seemed content to feast on those left behind in the ballroom.

She was so focused on making sure the Nichevo'ya weren't following, that Y/N didn't even notice cracks in the walls beginning to form and then splinter up and around.

Only when she saw the first piece of wall fall did she even realise what was happening. She turned around and there was no one behind her - they'd all made it through to the tunnels, including Nikolai, leaving her alone out in the corridor.

For a moment, she wondered if anyone would miss her if she disappeared.

Another piece of wall fell and, as it did, a Nichevo'ya began to appear from around a corner, it's shape constantly changing as the shadows withered and curled.

Y/N brought her hands together, searching for a heartbeat to control, but there was none. Of course there wasn't. They were made of nothing.

The cracks had reached the ceiling and more rubble fell down, smashing against the floor all around her. A particularly large piece fell away and Y/N threw herself back, barely avoiding its impact as she scrabbled across the tiled floor, trying to get to the tunnel entrance.

Her body wasn't cooperating, fear of the Nichevo'ya striking through her and rendering her almost useless. She tried not to look up at the skull like face forming in the shadows, but it was impossible to look away as it loomed over her. Almost as if she'd been hypnotised by them.

"Y/N!"

Hands came around her waist and they yanked her up and onto her feet. The roof was falling down around them now, large chunks of stone smashing into pieces on the tiles, the small bits flying back up into the air. Y/N felt something whizz past her cheek, leaving a stinging line behind.

Everything was a blur. As the rest of the ceiling came away, the Nichevo'ya launched forward, its tendrils snaking towards Y/N. They sliced down her arm and, as they made contact, Y/N brought her left hand to her right and felt something within the mass of black.

Focusing on that and that alone, Y/N forced it to slow down, to stop. Sensing danger, the tendrils came away, retreating back into the shadows. As they did, the ceiling gave way. Whoever had grabbed her from behind pushed her into the tunnels and then darkness obscured her vision.

"Y/N, look at me."

Hands rested on both her cheeks. A thumb stroked up and down her cheek bone. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark light of the tunnels, and the panic and fear began to fade, Nikolai came into view, his eyes full of concern.

"You good?" He asked softly, his eyes darting to her arm for a moment before coming back to her face.

"Sorry," Y/N said, blinking furiously. "I froze. I didn't mean to, I should've -"

"Hey, there's plenty of things we all should have done," Nikolai said gently, his thumb pressing lightly against her skin as he moved it up and down. "The Nichevo'ya do weird things to people. But we're safe, we made it into the tunnels."

Nikolai's words did little to reassure her. Instead, they made Y/N panic even more. She moved back from him and got to her feet, leaving Nikolai crouched in front of an empty space.

"You need to go see what's going on," Y/N said, putting more distance between them. "You are the king now."

A hundred different emotions filtered across Nikolai's face. His eyes seemed to grow slightly harder and his back straightened. As he went to speak, a guard appeared at his side and began to lead him away and down into the tunnels, leaving Y/N alone once more.

Y/N took a deep breath in and swore softly as she felt her arm burning and stinging for the first time. She looked down and saw a gash running from her shoulder down to her elbow.

Y/N winced as she tentatively pulled back the fabric from her arm, trying to see it better. The edges were bright red and blood was running down and to her wrist, dripping off her fingers.

She didn't feel fine but, for now, she pushed her pain and exhaustion aside, pushing herself off the wall she'd come to lean on.

The tunnels were organised chaos. Bodies lay against the walls, covered with blankets, flags, sacks - whatever people could find. Y/N walked, rather stumbled, down them, searching for her friends, hoping they were still alive and in one piece.

It wasn't long before she found them. Adrik was groaning in pain, swearing as quietly as he could as David examined his arm, his hands gently pulling away the shredded fabric from the gaping wounds on his arm and hand.

Y/N picked up her pace and rushed over to them, kneeling down beside David. "What happened?"

"Fucking Nichevo'ya," Adrik panted. He groaned, closing his eyes tightly as David pressed on the skin around the wound.

"Y/N," Nadia said, her arms around her brother, "can you do anything?"

"I'm not a healer," Y/N warned, her hand gently replacing David's as she took Adrik's arm.

"I don't care," Adrik said, groaning. "Just do something."

Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath in, trying to ignore the throbbing in her own arm. Her hands shook slightly.

David put a hand on her uninjured shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You can do it," he said quietly.

Y/N focused on Adrik's arm, on the skin and the blood thrumming through his veins and spilling out onto the floor. She could feel her energy seeping out through her body as she worked on Adrik's arm, trying to slow the bleeding and heal what she could.

As she did, she felt the pain in her arm gradually growing. It was hard to tell if the room was tilted or if she herself was tilting.

"Y/N," Tamar said softly. Y/N wasn't sure when she'd appeared. "Your arm."

"It's fine," Y/N said. She took a deep breath in as the pain got worse, her arm throbbing and burning.

Then, suddenly, it wasn't fine. Y/N felt the all to familiar feeling of nausea building up in her throat, her heart beat increased as her body ran out of energy.

Y/N swayed and she fell sideways and into David, the Durast doing his best to catch her.

Tamar was instantly at her side, her hand gripping Y/N's tightly. She pressed her fingers to her pulse point and Y/N felt the all too familiar feeling of someone else controlling her heartbeat.

"Adrik," Y/N muttered, slumping further back into David's chest, his arms wrapping around her.

"Nadia's got him," Tamar said, reaching her spare hand out to stroke Y/N's cheek. "You should've said something. Your arm is not fine."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the tears burning. She didn't know if they were from the pain or because of how useless she felt. "I'm fine," Y/N said, trying to sit up.

Both David and Tamar pushed her back down - neither one having to use much force at all.

"Nikolai!"

Y/N felt panic rise within her as Tamar summoned the now king over to them. Tamar glanced down at her, her eyebrows raised slightly, and Y/N realised her heart had also sped up.

Fucking heartrenders.

"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked, walking over to them.

He didn't see Y/N until he moved around David and saw her lying against him, blood pooling on the floor from the wound on her arm, Tamar's hand still on her wrist.

"Y/N, saints," Nikolai said, instantly dropping to his knees beside her.

Y/N vaguely realised that he'd shed his blazer and rolled his shirt sleeves up. His hands hovered over her arm, shaking every so slightly.

"She's losing too much blood," Tamar said quietly, trying her best to not alarm Y/N, who was gradually getting paler.

Nikolai nodded. "There's a healer down the tunnel with the courtiers."

Tamar, sensing Nikolai's hesitation, let go of Y/N's hand and stood up. "I'll go get them. See if you can find a bed or somewhere to lay her down."

Y/N didn't realise Nikolai had moved closer to her and slipped his arms around her back and under her legs until he lifted her up into his arms, adjusting his shoulder so that her head came to rest against it.

"David, stay with Adrik and Nadia," Nikolai said, taking a step back. "Tamar will be back soon."

Y/N was in too much pain to even try to fight Nikolai as he carried her through the tunnels. Through her half closed eyes, she could see the stares coming their way - the judgement and disgust all aimed at her.

But she didn't care. Because Nikolai was holding her close and, for a moment, she felt as if everything was ok. Nikolai was hers and only hers.

Everything faded away, leaving her floating around, relishing each touch, each way Nikolai's bare arms brushed against her.

"Y/N!"

She jumped slightly, her eyes slowly opening, taking their time to focus. Nikolai was knelt beside her, his hands cradling hers. Y/N realised that he was no longer carrying her and that she was lying down in a quieter part of the tunnels.

As her eyes focused, she noticed that Nikolai's eyes were red, his skin starting to go blotchy. Y/N moved her head slightly and saw Tamar kneeling behind her, one hand on her chest, the other on Nikolai's arm.

"Your heart stopped," Nikolai said quietly, when he noticed her confused gaze. "You went still and I..." Nikolai's voice cracked and he trailed off.

Tamar squeezed his arm as she stood up, leaving the two alone. The healer, who Y/N had only just noticed, also gave them some privacy, moving on to his next patient. Y/N glanced down at her arm and saw that it had stopped bleeding, the edges of the wound closer than they had been.

"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered, not sure what to say to Nikolai.

Nikolai raised his head, his eyes shining with tears. "Whatever for?"

Y/N didn't know. "I -"

"This is not your fault," Nikolai said, somehow moving closer. "None of this is."

One hand let go of hers, moving up to the side of her head. He began to brush back her hair with the pad of his thumb, the movement repetitive and calming enough it almost sent Y/N to sleep.

"Is Adrik ok?" Y/N asked, the memory of his ruined arm coming back at her with force.

Nikolai hesitated for a second. "He lost the arm," he said gently. "But he's alive, because of you."

"I could've done more," Y/N protested, tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. "If I'd been stronger or better -"

"The outcome would not have changed," Nikolai insisted, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Even the healer couldn't do anything more. What you did do, saved his life, Y/N."

Y/N nodded once, more tears spilling onto her cheeks. "Is this not improper?" She asked as Nikolai reached over to her other cheek, wiping the tears away again.

"What?" He asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're engaged," she said, her voice breaking on the last word as a sob broke through.

It took a second but understanding dawned on Nikolai's face and he let out a heavy breath, tinged with sadness.

"Oh, Y/N," he whispered. "You could've -"

"I couldn't, Nik," she said hoarsely. "I had to presume that it was just me - you had your eyes set on every other woman about and I -"

"No, stop that right now," Nikolai said, leaning close. "I... I have loved you since the moment I met you. I just assumed you loved Sturmhond, not Nikolai."

"I love you," Y/N said, her voice strong. "I love whoever you chose to be. Whether it's prince or pirate -"

"Privateer."

" - king or pauper," Y/N finished, her voice quiet as whatever energy had come disappeared. "I love whoever you chose to be. I just love you, Nikolai."

Nikolai nodded, tears running down his cheeks. He leant forward, resting his head against Y/N's chest and her fingers began to running through his hair and down to the nape of his neck.

She knew he was listening to her heart beating. She was doing exactly the same. The sound familiar and comforting for all the right reasons.

[venusjaynie]

Jim Halpert x fem!reader

CW: anxiety, panic attacks, petnames (lots of), Jim just overall being a big softie sweetheart.

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It's just a regular day at Dunder Mifflin, Scranton. You're at your desk clump that you share with Dwight and Jim, the latter of the two being your doting boyfriend of 2 months.

Jim and you are really happy, considering you've had a stupid schoolgirl crush ever since the moment you started working at D.M. as a saleswoman, which was 3 years ago. However, you're yet to open up about your anxiety to Jim. It's not because you don't trust him, or that you're embarrassed about it, but you just don't want him to worry about you more than he already does, and occasionally you feel like a burden.

A lot of the time, your anxiety comes in fits, and nothing in particular sets it off. It tends to just spring on you when you least expect it, like right now, apparently. One minute you're on a sales call, negotiating prices and quantities, and the next, your palms are sweaty and you can't catch a breath.

Jim doesn't seem to notice straight away, which is good. It means you can just slip out of the room to quickly calm yourself down before anyone even notices that you're gone. You wipe your sweaty palms off on you skirt, and try to take a deep breath, but you're clearly struggling more than you thought, because the inhale is awfully strangled and causes both Jim and Dwight to look up from their desktops. You smile at the both of them, trying to remain as collected as possible externally, while internally your heart is going a mile a minute.

You stand up and decide to head to the break room, without announcing the reason for your sudden departure. Your hands shake as you walk, and you're trying your hardest to take slow, deep breaths - however, you're failing miserably.

Pam eyes you wearily as you walk past her desk and out of the room. She catches Jim's eye as he worriedly watches you hurry from your seat. Pam counts to 10 in her head, just like you previously told her to do when she notices that your anxiety is getting the better of you. She doesn't look at Jim as she stands, and carefully makes her way over to the door of the break room.

Jim Halpert, being the caring boyfriend he is, takes it upon himself to follow Pam and make his best attempt at helping you out, whatever the problem may be. When he catches up to her however, she gives him a stern look, which he responds to with a confused one.

You burst into the break room and sit down on one if the chairs, not noticing Pam and Jim just outside of the door.

"Jim, just stay out here, I'll tell you when you can come in." Pam tells him.

"No, Pam, look at her. I need to go in there and make sure she's okay." He glances at your hunched frame, your shoulders shaking and your hands braced on your knees.

"Listen, I'm her best friend, and we both know she won't want you to see her like this." Pam tries to reason with him, but he looks at her, confused by what she meant when she said, 'she won't want you to see her like this' Why can't he see you like this? You're clearly not doing well and he just wants to help you.

"I'm her boyfriend, Pam, and I just want to make sure she's okay. Is that really such a crime?" He says, slightly exasperated from her lack of cooperation.

Pam sighs and puts a hand on Jim's shoulder making him look down at her.

"I promise you can come in soon, just need to make sure she's okay with you being there with her, alright?" He nodded. "She loves you, but she is obviously going through something, and I've seen her like this before, so I know how to help her." Pam goes to open the door, but Jim grabs her arm.

"If you don't tell me to come in there in 2 minutes, I'm going to anyway." She rolls her eyes at his stubbornness and opens the door.

You look up through teary eyes, and her heart breaks a fraction.

"Hi." She almost whispers. You try to reply, but all that leaves your mouth is a choked sob. She immediately sits down beside you and rests a comforting hand on your back, rubbing in small circles to soothe you.

While you know Pam is trying her best, she's not what you need right now. You try to take a deep breath, and she understands that you're about to speak, so she takes the liberty of asking first.

"What do you need? What can I do for you?"

"I- I just need Jim." You say quietly, and you can see her nodding and motioning at the door, telling him to come in. You can hear the click of the door but you don't respond, trying to focus on breathing. You feel Pam's hand leaving your back and you assume she left the room to let Jim help you out.

Jim kneels down in front of you and goes to take your right hand in both of his, but then he remembers that some people don’t like to be touched in a situation like this so he hesitiates.

"Hey, pretty girl." He says it so softly. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

You nod.

"I know you're trying to focus on your breathing right now, so I'm just gonna do this," he slowly takes your hand and guides it to his chest. "I need you to match my breathing. Can you do that for me, babe?"

You shake your head, the task seemingly impossible. You try to distract yourself by focusing on the butterflies that flutter in your stomach at the pet-names, but that doesn't seem to work.

"C'mon, you wanna at least try? You're doing so good already."

All he gets in reply is an ugly sob. His heart breaks for you. He knows you've been struggling with panic attacks for a while now, even without you openly telling him, and the first and only time he helped you through one, you got all embarrassed and closed off afterwards and he had to try to assure you that your reaction to certain situations wasn't anything to feel shameful of.

You look up at him, and try to take a deep breath as he watches you encouragingly.

"Attagirl, you're doing so well." He starts to take long, exaggerated breaths in hopes that you copy him, and after a few minutes of encouragement, you semi-successfully do so.

Your slight progress, however, is thrown away when Michael starts banging on the door of the break room, yelling nonsense about a sales call that you have yet to make.

Out of the corner of your eye you think you see Dwight tell Michael something and it makes him stop yelling, but it doesn't ease your anxiety.

Jim watches as Michael walks away and then he turns his attention back to you.

"Hey, honey, just look at me." You shake your head in response. "You're doing such a good job already, I just need you to take a couple more big, deep breaths, alright? Can you try that for me?" His grip on your hand never once eases as he helps you through your anxiety attack.

After a while of encouragement and reassurance, you begin to shake less and your heart slows back down to its regular pace, for the most part anyway.

When Jim is sure you're able to breathe on your own without his help, he tries to gently remove your hand from his chest, but you grip onto his shirt tightly. He doesn't seem to mind, and covers your hand with his own again.

"Sorry." You mumble, almost inaudibly. He gently takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and guides your head upwards to look at him.

"Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. You can't stop stuff like this from happening, and I'm always here to help you with these things, okay?" You give him a little nod in response. Jim wipes away the still falling tears with the fingers previously situated on your chin.

He kisses your forehead and goes to stand up, but you grab his hand and a strained noise comes from your throat in protest.

"I'm just gonna grab you some water and a tissue." Jim says, pressing his lips to your hand.

As he walks away you dry your cheeks as best you can, still feeling embarrassed about your situation.

'Jim shouldn't have to deal with someone as pathetic as you.' That little whisper in the back of your mind seems as though it's yelling, not whispering.

You don't even notice Jim walking back into the room as your brain is so consumed with ways to apologise for the inconvenience.

"Can practically hear you thinking, sweetheart. What's going on in there?" He taps your forehead as he sets the glass of water down on the table and hands you the tissues.

"I'm sorry." You apologise again.

"What are you sorry for?" He smiles sadly at you, which only makes you feel worse.

"I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass." You chuckle wetly. "You shouldn't have to deal with this kinda stuff." You look up at him, and he stares back at you.

"Oh, honey, no. I'm not dealing with anything. You're my girlfriend. I want to help you. And frankly, you're not a pain in the ass. I love you, okay?"

Oh.

"I love you too." You reply, still feeling semi-guilty. You know Jim can tell, but he doesn't say anything. He does, however, grab your hands and pull you up so that you're standing. He wraps his arms around your waist and you immediately respond by wrapping your own around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.

Jim whispers 'I love you' again a dozen times or so, and you simply bury your face further into his neck, perfectly content to stay there as long as he'll let you.

[starryalpacasstuff]

Indian BL? FROM 2017????

There's an Indian BL from 2017 that I just watched. And I have incoherent thoughts

Before I continue, massive thanks to my bestie @anixknowsnothin for telling me about this show and proofreading the post for me. You don't even watch bl so I have no idea how you found this, but I'm incredibly grateful nonetheless

Here's the link to where I watched the show from, there's a glitch in the first episode subs where the subs seem to be from another show entirely, but it's only for the first ep and about 50% of the dialogue is in English anyways, so it shouldn't be hard to follow.(My ask box is also always open if there's a specific dialogue/scene in Hindi that you want the translation of)

Edit: The link seems to be region locked, so to watch it you can use a vpn and set your region to India, otherwise the episodes are available on youtube, albeit without subs

Note:- this post is going to have a few mild spoilers throughout, but I'll flag major spoilers in red

It's no secret that India is fairly behind when it comes to queer love shows if we compare it to other Asian countries. While it has a handful of great queer shows and movies, it's still quite a small quantity. Additionally, before this, I'd never watched an Indian show that felt like I was watching a bl (if you have recs, please send them my way!!). I'm not going to get into the technicalities of what feels like a bl and doesn't, because honestly, I'm not completely sure myself. For now, I'm just going based off of vibes and feelings, and this show felt like a bl through and through.

Titled 'Romil and Jugal' after its main characters, the story is a modern, desi, bl remake of the classic story...

Romeo and Juliet

Well, Bad Buddy was the first Thai bl I ever watched, so Romil and Jugal being the first Indian BL I watched just feels right, no?

I didn't actually know that the story was based off of Romeo and Juliet till the second episode, because I didn't bother looking for a synopsis, and jumped right in. However, it's links to Romeo and Juliet quickly became apparent, around the same time I started to see similarities between this show and Bad Buddy. I also did not know that this show came out in 2017 before I googled it, having already watched the entire thing, which was a pretty huge shock, because this BL is progressive by 2024 India standards.

Alright, enough of my rambling. Here's a synopsis of the show in case you haven't heard of it. (I couldn't find an official one, so I did my best to write a spoiler free synopsis)

Ramya happens to start talking to a slightly older woman at an airport, who believes that there is no romance in the younger generation. To prove her wrong, Ramya decides to tell the older woman her brother's love story. The story from the past is shown to us as Ramya narrates it to the woman in the present. Jugal is a closeted 19-year-old who lives with his parents. One day, a family moves into the house next door, and Jugal immediately falls for the son, Romil. The two of them attend the same college, and eventually become friends. The two of them eventually get together, but have to face the challenges of a homophobic society and having parents that hate each other.

I was a little skeptical of the show going in, but the show surpassed all of my expectations in the best way possible. It's no masterpiece, and it has its flaws, but it was far better than what I expected. It had both comical elements and darker themes, and it did not shy away from exploring the darker themes at all. Oh, and it has a few musical numbers. What did you expect? This is India after all.

The show is 10 episodes long, with 20 minutes per episode, and so it does unfortunately fall into some of the pitfalls that shorter shows tend to fall into, namely underdeveloped relationships and rushed endings. I did end up feeling a little bit like it didn't make sense for the pair to sacrifice and suffer as much as they did because they hadn't known each other for very long, and I felt like they should have been given more time to fall in love with each other. But it also could be argued that the show stays true to the play, and Romil and Jugal are dumb teenagers who make mistakes and stick with each other through them. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it.

One thing that I loved the show for was that it showed us that the relationship is not all sunshine and rainbows. They argue, they break up, they get back together, and they do argue even after that. But every time, they eventually work through the issue and reconcile. The show even depicts Romil dealing with internalized homophobia and struggling to reconcile with the fact that he will never be who his family wants him to be. Although I do wish they'd have had more time to explore this, I'd say it was decently depicted and handled. The show really delves into how children are forced to uphold their family's wishes and are constantly put under pressure to make them proud. Although it clearly affects both of them, it's more obvious with Romil, who is expected by his family to date and marry the daughter of his father's boss, whom they think he is dating. There's a metaphor along this theme too, where Romil pretends to like the mango shake that his mom has been making for him since he was a kid, even though he hates it, and when he tries to tell her, he has to act like it was a joke to spare her feelings. The show also goes into the communal mindset of basing your actions off "what will people think?", and you can see how a lot of the characters' actions throughout the show are haunted by this question. Some of Romil and Jugal's earlier disagreements are due to this very mindset.

The show also very candidly depicts the extreme homophobia of society in India. Romil and Jugal had to constantly hide who they were, always having to keep up a mask and I felt that reach somewhere deep inside me. When the pair come out, the show really shows how ugly homophobia can be in India. Their parents immediately disown them. They're mocked in college and wrongfully suspended for a fight that was provoked by other students. Very, very few people stand with them, and the pair very quickly realize that now that they are out, they simply cannot live in the city anymore. So with the help of Jugal's best friend and her mother, they flee to Mumbai, where they get jobs and live as paying guests with a friend of the aforementioned mother. But, even in Mumbai, the masks stay up. They have to act like cousins, for fear of being persecuted. The series depicted the worst-case scenario that so many of us live in fear of, so watching it was something of a cathartic experience for me.

Another thing that the show did quite well is showing how different people and their mindsets can be. Jugal's best friend, Ahalya, and her mom are very supportive, and they help the pair out quite a bit. Ahalya's mother provided a safe house for the pair and helped them find a fresh start. Meanwhile, Romil and Jugal's parents are incredibly homophobic. There was a scene that really stuck with me, (mild spoiler ahead, skip to the last sentence of the paragraph) where Ahalya's mother came across Jugal's mother, who prided herself on being educated and well-read, searching up how to cure homosexuality. Ahalya's mother then tells her off for calling herself educated yet believing that homosexuality is an illness. It is so important to me that the show depicted both the violent homophobia that permeates Indian society and the surprising, warm acceptance that one can find.

One final thing that I loved about this show so, so much is just how authentically Indian it feels. Asian cultures share a lot in common, but they also have their differences, so seeing a show where I can imagine encountering the characters in real life is really amazing. Rather than something big, it was little things sprinkled throughout the story that warmed my heart. The story felt like something I could hear the local aunties gossiping about. The way it depicts queerness in India hits incredibly close to home.

One thing I've learned watching Asian bls is that the ending of a show can make it or break it, but with this one, I'm stuck. The best way I can describe the ending is absolutely insane and incredibly Bollywood.

I believe this show was supposed to get a second season because the last two minutes of the show leave us with a massive cliffhanger. Now, it's been 7 years, so a second season is unlikely, so I'm simply pretending that the last two minutes of the show never happened. But the ending has so much more to it than just this (Major spoilers for the ending up ahead. I mean it when I say major, this is like going into Bad Buddy knowing that they're going to trick their parents in the end).

About halfway through the show, I remembered what play it was based upon and realized that there was a very real possibility that Romil and Jugal would die. The first half of the last episode leads up to this, telling us that they died when reconciling after an argument in the middle of the road when they were hit by a truck. We get a super emotional scene (yes, I cried) where the two families somewhat reconcile in their grief as they go to the police station to identify the bodies. Except... they're not dead, which is revealed when Romil's father hugs Romil's (not) dead body. They reveal that they planned this to show their family that they still loved their sons. I did say it was like PatPran tricking their parents in the end, didn't I? So the families reunite, Romil and Jugal get jobs in New Zealand and get married, and return to India for a wedding celebration (yes, I cried. again). The ending does feel slightly rushed, but if I'm being honest, it wasn't as terrible as it could have been. Believing that your child is dead for a bit is a somewhat justifiable reason for a sudden change of heart. There's a part where Romil and Jugal tell their parents that if they choose acceptance, they can reconcile, but if they choose to remain prejudiced, Romil and Jugal can simply get back on the stretchers, because they'll be as good as dead to their families anyways and it is *chef's kiss*.

All in all, the show was surprisingly heartfelt and poignant. It had me laughing, kicking my feet and even crying. There's a lot more about this show that I could talk about, but I'm going to stop here for now, and I'll try to write more on it later. This show really does deserve more recognition than it has, and I'm almost mad at myself for not knowing about it before. Am I being really biased when talking about this show? Absolutely. But I do think that this show is a worthwhile watch, and I'd really like to see what other people on here think of the show, especially because I'm aware that I am biased towards this show.

I'm tagging a few people who I know might be interested/have some thoughts about the show because this is a show that I really want to hear other people's opinions on and have conversations about, so I hope you guys don't mind!

@waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @bengiyo @neuroticbookworm

[thespiritssaidso]

Food Is Life, and Life Hates Juliet

Summary: Juliet hasn’t been able to shake this on and off nausea for what feels like years. She usually avoids food whenever she feels particularly icky, but this time tries eating something anyways. Big mistake.

Notes: yeah I moved day 22 to day 8 what are you gonna do about it?

Based on my own current nausea (I didn’t want to wait and I couldn’t think of anything for the migraine prompt)

Whumperless Whump event day 22 8: Better Out Than In

⚠️ if talk of eating and puking makes you uncomfortable, do not read ⚠️

—————

Juliet and Shawn sat at their couch, takeout boxes from the Jamaican food truck on each others lap.

Shawn was scarfing his food down like it was the last day he would eat. Juliet, however… she pushed her food around. The nausea hadn’t gotten better like it usually did when she got hungry. It just stayed. She was still hungry — she could practically feel her stomach clawing at her throat, begging for food.

But simply looking at the curry chicken in front of her made her want to vomit. She could feel the tingly sensation in her lips as she stared at her food.

“Are you alright, Jules?”

She looked up from her box and saw Shawn observing her in concern. “Oh, yeah, I’m good.” He didn’t look convinced, so she scooped a bit of chicken onto her fork and took a bite. She wanted to gag, so so badly. The feeling of the food she normally loved felt revolting in her mouth. The sensation felt wrong on so many levels she couldn’t even begin explaining. But she smiled instead, chewing and swallowing.

Shawn didn’t seem too reassured by that. But after giving her another concerned look, he turned back to his food.

Juliet tried to as well, forcing herself to eat because it was good for her. It had to be good for her. Food gave nutrients her body needed. Nutrients to keep her energized. So why was it rejecting it so violently?

She ignored every instinct inside her body telling her to stop eating please for the love of god stop eating stop eating stop stop stop stop stop-

Her stomach bubbled, and she let out a small burp. There was a small amount of upchuck that followed it. She just shoved it back down. And she went back to eating.

It only worked for a minute before it happened again, this time more harshly, and more in quantity.

She tried swallowing it back but ended up slightly choking on her own vomit. Coughs forced their way out, racking her body. The box of curry chicken fell from her lap and spilled on the floor.

“Jules!” Shawn reached out and gently grabbed her hand, resting another on her back.

Juliet gasped for air once her airways were clear again. As she did, an ominous feeling rose from the pit of her stomach.

“Shawn, I need to-” a gag stopped her from saying anything else. She got up and ran as fast as she could. No time for the bathroom, it was too far away. She settled for the trash can in the kitchen.

The second she had kneeled down next to the bin, the gates to her stomach broke wide open. Her eyes watered as it came out not only her mouth but from her nose as well. She tried her best to hold her hair back as the contents of her insides emptied themselves.

Juliet felt Shawn’s hands moved hers away, delicately pulling her hair back. “I got your hair, it’s fine. Better out than in.”

So she did. She sat there for what felt like an eternity, hugging the trash can as she puked her guts out. Juliet couldn’t remember the last time she’d thrown up. Years ago, it must have been.

It felt awful. The burning sensation of stomach acid in her throat and mouth and nostrils. The uncontrollable shakes that came with it. The tears blurring her vision. It was horrible, and it reminded her why she never ate when she had The Bad Feeling.

“Okay, Jules. Let’s- let’s get you to the sink, yeah? We can wash you off there.”

She nodded, and weakly stood. She almost tripped, but Shawn caught her in time for her to regain her balance. They shuffled their way to the kitchen sink.

Juliet wetted a rag and began washing the upchuck from her face, Shawn keeping her upright all the while. As she did, the trembling subsided somewhat, and her energy began to return. Breathing came easier, so in between each wipe she took deep, filling breaths.

Once her face was clean, she rinsed her mouth out with the tap water, gargling and spitting out any vomit that tried to stay behind.

The shaking had finally subsided, and Juliet could fully stand on her own now. She sighed deeply. “I think I’m going to brush my teeth.”

—————

Notes: I couldn’t figure out how to end it ahhhhh

Anyways, thanks for reading

Ao3 link

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #34: Pendulum

Masterlist

content: discussion of abuse and death

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The moment that Heather opened her eyes, Jackie shoved the brochure in her face. 

“They have free breakfast,” he said.

He had discovered it earlier that morning and thought of little else ever since. A sort of buffet, completely free of charge, according to the bottom of the brochure. After eight AM, until eleven. Free coffee, too, though it was probably the cheap kind. Jackie didn’t care how cheap it was. All he wanted was food, any kind, any quality as long as it was rich in quantity. He had already eaten a salad from the minifridge, despite Heather’s orders, and he barely stopped himself from taking all the peanuts.

Heather didn’t look quite as thrilled as he was. She shifted upright in the chair. The knife fell from her hand onto the carpet. She glanced at it with mild surprise.

“…Well?” He lowered the brochure to stare at her, puppy-dog eyes and all. “Can I go? I’m not gonna try and make a run for it. I just want pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” She scowled until his excitement faded into disappointment. “This is my life on the line, Jackie. We’re on the run. We’re in danger. Even someone as oblivious as you can pick up on that. We don’t have the luxury to waste time.”

“Fine.” He folded the brochure up. “You’re no fun.”

“No fun? Do you think I’m doing this for fun? Do you think I want the police after me? I’m not here to entertain you. What?” she said when he narrowed his eyes. “Do you have something to say?”

He shook his head, then sat back on the edge of the bed.

Heather pressed her knuckles against her lips, glared at the floor like it was personally responsible for all this. He knew the feeling well. 

So he didn’t take her harsh words too seriously. And Jackie didn’t like seeing her upset. It didn’t fit his view of her, as someone constantly competent and unaffected. He wanted to tell her that she was going to be okay, that the cops probably didn’t even know she was behind any of it—but that was just a guess. It wasn’t entirely baseless, since they hadn’t seen a single officer during their journey, but he couldn’t say anything for certain. It wouldn’t comfort her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m okay.” Her voice sounded a hint too quiet, but she quickly forced the apathy back into it. “Of course I’m okay, I’m—I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Oh, I know. You’re hungry.” He leaned forward, beaming. “You know what we could eat?"

That seemed to convince her. Or she was pretending to feel better. Either way, she was distracted, which was a win in his books.

“Okay.” She stood up. “I’ll get the pancakes. You can stay here.”

She left the room and shut the door. He waited in silence, not even wanting to explore until she returned. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It was mostly silence between them, in fact, when the door opened again and she came back. About twenty minutes had passed. He sat on the sofa, out of politeness.

She placed a paper plate, piled high with whipped cream and pancakes, on the hotel side-table. Without much in the way of greeting, she pushed the table closer to him. 

“Should I…” She trailed off. “Would you be okay if I stayed here?”

“Of course. You don’t have to worry about that.” It was embarrassing to remember what happened in Redmond. He didn’t know what came over him. There had been something plugging up his heart, like wax, making it hard to think. Whatever that strange feeling was, though, it was gone now. He felt much better after a night’s rest. Besides, he didn’t want to push her kindness too far. 

She nodded. “If you’re sure.”

Still, she moved the plush chair a little farther away from him, and she sat facing the window. His face felt flushed. He was certain it was bright red. Maybe this will get easier over time.

After he checked that her gaze was somewhere else, he took the plastic utensils and began sawing into the pancakes. The dough split open like butter. There was nothing stronger than this hunger, he was sure, nothing less overwhelming to feel. He wanted nothing more than to eat.

The sun rose, meanwhile. The horizon seemed to melt like honey. Light slowly flooded into the room, cheerful inch by cheerful inch. The view was never dull, he had to admit, no matter the hour. 

A few minutes passed before Heather made conversation. “What do you think of this place?”

Jackie took a brief moment to answer. “It’s interesting, that’s for sure. I’ve never been to a hotel before.”

“Oh?”

“Never had a reason to.” He continued eating.

“You’re probably loving the change of view.” She also had a plate of pancakes, which Jackie hadn’t even noticed. Heather was not actually eating her breakfast, however. The paper plate lay forgotten in her lap.

He swallowed and, eventually, nodded. “It’s nice, yeah.”

“That’s good.” She stabbed a pancake with her fork, distractedly, twisting and tearing into the golden-brown skin until it ripped open to its fluffy insides. “That’s… good.”

“Have you been to a hotel before?”

She nodded.

“With who?”

“With whom,” she corrected. “With my father.”

“Your father? Is that the rich guy who…”

“Up and died, yes.” The pancake was looking more like mashed potatoes now. 

Jackie blinked, but he refrained from commenting on the state of her breakfast. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking. You don’t have to—“

“Elevator accident. Three years ago. What about your family?”

“Well, my family… I have two sisters. I don’t know where they are now.” That was half-true—he knew one was still rotting in her coffin, exactly where he had last seen her. He didn’t think about his siblings much, at least, not anymore. He hadn’t seen them since he was a child, and childhood was so fuzzy and far away. “We weren’t close anyway.“

“And your parents? If you don’t mind.“

“My mom died too. Heart attack, I think. When I was a kid. It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. My dad’s still alive, but there’s no way in hell I’m ever talking to him again.”

“Why not?” 

Jackie shrugged. “I don’t like him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been hard to live together.”

“It wasn’t all bad. I left when I was twelve.”

“That’s nice.” She set her pancakes down on the table.

“What about you? What was having a rich daddy like?”

“It was okay.”

“Did you get a huge allowance?”

She smiled a little at this. “Sure.”

“How big are we talking? A hundred? No, wait—five hundred?”

“A thousand every year. What?” Her smile became slightly self-conscious. “How much did you get?”

Jackie couldn’t tell her that he never received an allowance now—no, that would be mortifying. “A hundred.”

She nodded. He continued to finish the rest of his breakfast. Heather, meanwhile, stared silently out the window. All distant and melancholy. Jackie had no idea what had occupied her attention. Her hands were clasped neatly in her lap, and her legs were crossed. The perfect picture of grace.

“Are you going to eat that?” He pointed with his fork.

“What? The pancakes? No.” She handed him the plate. “You can have it.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s no problem.” She resumed her window-watching.

He glanced out the window, but only found the same old view: rocky forests and snow. “What are you looking at?”

She shook her head. “Just thinking. We should go somewhere new tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

She shook her head again, her expression as dark as clouded waters, but she said nothing else on the subject. Instead, she leaned forward, towards Jackie.

“What?”

She wiped a bit of whipped cream off his cheek. “Nothing. That’s all.”

That was all. But it was enough for him. Jackie hoped that night would never fall, or that he would die in his sleep, because this was the best day of his life. Everything could only go downhill from here. 

But he was young, and he wasn’t hungry for once, so what was the point of dread? What point was there in holding his breath? They would be fine. One way or the other. They had lived together for so long, just Heather and him. He couldn’t imagine living any other way. Call him ignorant, to be so confident in his own perceptions, but he simply couldn’t picture leaving her side. It was a kind of gravity. Like a pendulum always swung back, they would be just fine. Someway, somehow.

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Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

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@vidawhump

[cheesecakezyum]

hey, hru? i just found your blog and tbh i really love it and your writing, it’s just so good! so can i request the mayor realizing that he likes the reader, and how he would confess? thanks! <3

Anyone Can Change, If They Try Hard Enough!

Ooh! Sure! We all love some unhinged old men am I right or am I right?

My hiatus has been so long simply due to some financial, family and more personal issues I’d rather not discuss publicly. Writing doesn’t pay my bills after all! Maybe I should make a Kofi or personal commissions? Most likely not— I’m just here to have fun. Anyways, I’ll be back to writing the multitude of prompts that have been given to me over my hiatus. To think that my last post had me at 150 followers, and now I’m almost at half a thousand now! I’ll try my best to make it up to you within the upcoming months as well as a Christmas special piece on Ao3! Stay tuned my lovelies <3

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♡- I wouldn’t say what he feels is love at first sight. Quite the opposite truly. You, being a known rebel against the Lady Bone Demon throughout the period of time the world was in utter disarray.

♡- He was truly and utterly devoted— in any way, shape or form; His goal was to stay by her side for the rest of eternity if granted such a gracious opportunity. Why ask for anything more?

♡- One of his duties? Taking care of the foolish mortals who dared to disobey the new world. That was where he initially met you. Someone who had daringly risked their life to let a family of four flee. You jumped in front of them! You don’t know what had happened to them after, but it didn’t matter. They had more to live for than you did in your brisk opinion

♡- As foolish as the mayor believed you to be, he did nothing but cackle and unceremoniously take his leave. It was hilarious! Why would you would risk your life for these people? It was utter nonsense!

♡- A small part of him admired your bravery, no matter how insane it seemed. The mayor was reminded of his own loyalty to his lady.

♡- The act had left him in your thoughts, so utterly long until he was ripped away from any bone demon powers he had once attained in a massive quantity. One minute he was fighting the monkey king, and the next?— forced to give out information to the very same people trying to stop their plan to rewrite the world as the simian took his very place.

♡- He was able to get away, as easy as it was when the scums just left him there. The only problem was, he had nowhere to go. Battered and bruised, the old mayor of the city would stick out like a sore thumb! There was only one option.

♡- He had to find you. Maybe because he showed you such mercy, you’d repay him with a safe place to dwell until things died down? If anything, you’d even get on your knees and kiss his shoes! Yes yes, that’s the plan.

♡- It took a few days for him to find you, but once he did? Ohhh, you certainly looked different than you did during the ‘apocalypse’. You dressed quite nicely! Formal wear similar to his! He never noticed you worked right in town hall; the place he dwelled most being undercover. Who knew?

♡- Back to your situation, you had moved to a much better area; Close but not exactly in the heart of the city you once did! Due to many losing their homes, you had opted to stay in a friends condo she had for rent, which was practically spotless! It was way better than the now ashes of your former home. You finished up settling the last of your boxes in the living room before hearing a clean three knocks at the door.

♡- You didn’t like who you saw. Not one bit. It was the mayor of the city, monster, the very same one who threatened to obliterate a family simply asking for mercy? He looked like an utter mess.

“Well hello there ci!—“

You had shut the door before you could hear any more. Had he been stalking you? What was his reason for such an intrusion.

You heard his muffled voice on the other side, but instead chose to preoccupy yourself with better things than an old, no— ancient man outside your door. You weren’t a young hot shot either! Being in your late 30s has proved to you that you were simply gaining maturity.

Something was just, off about him.

♡- By evening, you had realized that he was still at the door— waiting with his usual eerie smile. What had even happened to him for someone with such power to come here? If he really was a threat— destroying your home would’ve been a piece of cake.

♡- You made stew, and what you didn’t expect was your body to move for you.

The man was no longer waiting by the door, instead seated in a gentlemanly manner alongside your exterior walls, you had lifted a hand. What were you doing?

“Hey….are you hungry?”

He looked up at you, the very first time you didn’t see his face with forced glee.

♡- Maybe you did have a death wish.

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I have the horrible ability to turn simple prompts into ideas for full pieces of work. Anywayssss, thx for reading!!

[shut-up-rabert]

If she were to say that she is completely disaffectionate to the idea, she would be lying. Sort of.

Cannily enough, she sends a brief look down at her feet, inspecting her shoes and pants for what has to be the millionth time, shakes her head and lifts her face back.

Heh, even the door seems to be taunting her, laughing in her face.

Naina cannot help but glare back. Force of habit, she hopes it is.

“You don’t have to.” The voice invading her thoughts reassures—albiet offhand by the tone— bringing her back to reality for a split second, then back to where she was.

She can already pick up the audience of idle bystanders starting to discuss amongst themselves, and she certainly hopes that the incoherent whispers are nothing more than the scandalised chatterings of the nerds for seeing a girl in a boys’ dorm.

“I know.” She quitely admits, seemingly still contemplating the choice as the knell in front of her dares her.

This is not news. Naina knows she doesn’t have to. Chances are she wouldn’t have even if she had to, lest it proved to be detrimental. The question then arises, aptly so in her mind and voiced by her (mostly) uncaring companion , “Then why?”

A single glare is shot his way and his lips have his own trembling index finger pressed against them. Irrespective of the fact that Chaitanya is merely jesting, a tad bit of her deflating pride swells back.

And well, the answer to this question? It lies in something more complex.

She sighs yet afresh, scurpously aware of the ‘because’ that the ‘why’ asks for. Her heart floors, yet again, as it has ever-since she has made peace with the fact that its not about whether she has to.

Its that a part of her wants to. And that part grow every second as long as she entertains the idea.

And quantity of bystanders staring at her seem to grow, so she has to do this soon.

“Okay.” She thinks. “This is nothing big. He’ll feel better.” It takes unusually more willpower for her hand to reach the handle, which conviniently enough still appears to be ragging on her.

“He doesn’t hate me.”

Naina had no idea that it was possible for the heart to feel like its sinking yet soaring at the same time until she grasped the knocker and hit it against the rather shabby door. Minutely at first (Jai Mata Di), gently the second time (no turning back now), and harshly the third one (ab to bilkul bhi kuchh nhi kar sakte).

Chaitanya steals a glance at the girl, and seeing that her eyes are shut firmly, gives out what Naina is convinced to have been a chuckle poorly disguised as a cough.

Delicately, she opens her eyes, concurrently hyper aware of every sound that could possibly be made that side of the door, and the turmoil within herself.

Not that it lasts long, for the apt next instant, the something infront of her squeaks, effectively making her heart forget how to beat for a jiffy.

As the old door creaks open, she holds her breath, only to quitely release it when he emerges from behind.

She notices how his eyes fall on her, the imminent perplexity in them and the lack of any positive emotion that would ensure her that he, does not indeed despise her.

None to be seen at all.

Unsurprisingly, regret for making this decision is creeping in a lot faster than the brevity did.

“What’s up?” His sights are on her, but his question is directed to the one standing next to her.

Side eyeing her as he makes for an unpretentious lean against the door frame, Chaitanya wheezes

“Arrey bhai kuchh nahi. Lady bheem here wanted to tell you something so I just brought her.”

She was silently hoping that he would join the joke, like he usually does, respond with something along the lines of Chaitanya making sure she doesn’t murder anyone.

Raising a only single eyebrow at the response, he looks back at her, this time in anticipation, only for her to look away — rather gingerly —at first, then nervously scowl at Chaitanya next.

He doesn’t have to be notified twice. With a single exhale, he pushes himself off his support. “Alright, my job here is done. Carry on with your convo.”

And with a single turn on his heels, he saunters away, making sure to hum to himself so that Naina can be assured he doesn’t intend to eavesdrop.

[anthonybialy]

Same Scheme, Different Day

Explaining why today’s pushy executive branch incursion is the worst idea since the one they dropped yesterday distracts from how they’re all tiresome.  Those who keep noticing feel even more worn out, which is as close to success as any present plan.  Facing a ghastly new proposal is not novel in the fun way like how Joe Biden discovers every morning how delicious Froot Loops are.  Lousy schemes change in detail while the awful overall tone remains constant.  Nobody in the Oval Office notices patterns or much of anything else.

A daily nightmare isn’t spurring enough mandatory optimism.  Learning how we’re going to be bothered is the only surprise under the leadership of someone whose policies have been demonstrated to serve as incessant crotch kicks.  Bothering the law-abiding could only be more distressing if the law-breaking are permitted to run enterprises free of restriction.  If you don’t want to be hassled by Democrats, turn to crime.

I can’t wait to learn what daft infiltration they’ll try to wreak upon us for our prosperity.  Consistency accompanies surprises.  Each Biden initiative makes our lives worse while violating our rights, but mandates are beneficial otherwise.  There too many preposterous notions to defend against them all, which is the best case for a White House that treats bothering you like its divine purpose.

Cars plugged in next to phones create some of the few fun times during this term.  Bet which will charge first.  The impartial observer uses evidence to notice locked tendencies.  Realizing we must explain how gasoline works means the process will take some time.  By contrast, motorists can fill up a tank in a minute or so.  Car guy Biden doesn’t know how they work.  That makes them like the country where he’s president.

It’s unsophisticated to merely ban things directly.  Start a chain reaction of making wealth and accumulation essentially illegal to really show the populace who’s boss.  Forgetting what eggs look like creates instant misery, but it’s important to also plant future dejection.  If needing wheelbarrows full of bills to afford onions isn’t strenuous enough more than physically, the real joy takes the form of enduring an explanation of why they’re actually affordable.  Orwell was an optimist.

The key to reducing prices slightly is to make them ridiculously high.  Don’t you know anything about economics?  We may as well review how uncanny timing dictates finances.  Corporate greed just happened to kick in when Biden took office.  Monstrous conglomerates hate Democrats so much that they waited until the loving party won.  The press secretary expects you’ll believe her account of timing.

Constant monitoring is for the benefit of the watched, so stop feeling creeped out.  Our savior is too insecure to trust us.  You may be shocked at the realization it’s not the president’s job to hand out purportedly free money.  We’re painfully learning just why presidential job limitations were in place to begin with.  

Elders still need to earn it.  Biden harms fellow geezers by lowering automatic respect for someone who’s had a relatively high quantity of birthdays.  The incumbent is older than the microwave oven and hasn’t learned one useful thing in over 80 years.  How are you supposed to heat Pizza Rolls without learning numbers?

This all seems familiar, we note while flinching.  Americans coped with this while he had a boss for the first time.  Barack Obama was an expert at saying the precise opposite of what he did.  Explaining why he was better at spending your money than you doesn’t really count as a skill itself.  Circumstances are much better without the charisma.  Pretending Biden is a charming grandpa is as pathetic as claiming transportation is presently affordable.

This is no time for adjusting to reality.  Biden would have to stop believing what he does, and this isn’t the sort of person who’s going to let evidence change his mind.  A lifetime dedicated to getting everything wrong has created an unblemished record.

The best time to improve was decades ago.  The second-best is now.  Adhering to the same regrettable notions is the third, worst, and current choice.  In lieu of starting listening to wiser voices half a century ago, we have to hear Biden be wrong about the world every single day.

Conditions must be swell if those enduring them debate the maliciousness of ineptness.  This White House’s performance is dreadful enough that recipients ponder how much maliciousness was involved.  Cope any way you can.  Infuriated Americans wonder semi-seriously if this ever-dignified executive branch is trying to create chaos so they can control the ruins.  They’d finally be in charge.

The best case against a diabolical plan is the planners.  Ineptness is the best case for this particularly charismatic administration.  There’s no way such generic zombies are capable of plotting out domination.

The simplest option is the most likely explanation, which our simple president doesn’t grasp going to feel nice when he’s not president.  That will be Biden’s sole pleasant legacy.  It’ll be better when he’s done.  Nothing feels fulfilling like ensuring there will be a legacy left.

[ladyofluxure]

Leveling up: Step 1

• Solve my unhealthy relationship with food & lose weight

Hello, girls! I am a companion and an SB. I’ve been in the business for a little over a year and the money is good. I’ve saved up more than I ever thought could’ve been possible in this last year. I love my life but I know very well that it could be WAYYY better if I decided to seriously dedicate myself into changing from the inside out.

The biggest issue that I currently have right now is my weight. I have a bad relationship with food and I tend to eat A LOT when I’m not hungry and not the healthy stuff. The consequence of that poor behaviour is that I am obese. I am well built and carry most of my weight in my ass, thighs, hips and boobs.. but I still don’t feel good about myself and I feel like it’s just getting worse.

I’ve lost weight in the past but always ended up gaining it back. That being said, when I lost the weight, I’d always feel better about myself and look extremely alluring. Thus, my desire to get back in shape.. also, I know damn well I’ll make way more money afterwards hihi

My Goal #1 is to have a normal relationship with food - eat when I’m hungry and not think about it when I’m not - and as a result, LOSE WEIGHT!

How? I’ve done so many diets and workout plans that were not sustainable for me. Right now, I just want to embrace a new lifestyle and do things that I actually enjoy and know that I will be able to keep up for the long run.

First of all, I know that I have to change my way of thinking around food and all the beliefs that I have about myself. I decided to hire a life coach/therapist who specializes in relationship with food to help me with my limiting beliefs and toxic thoughts regarding food and myself - I will be starting my session with her in October 3rd for a total duration of 10 weeks!

Secondly, I definitely have to make it a habit to be active daily. Not necessarily workout in the gym until I’m about to pass out but just to make sure that I get my body moving on a daily basis - ex: long walks, dancing, yoga, etc. With how out of shape I currently am, my goal for right now is to do daily walks of 30 minutes to 2 hours.

Of course, I have to start paying more attention to the quality, the quantity and the frequency of what I eat. I tour a lot because of my job so I order in more than I wish but that being said, I could still order a salad or something healthier than pizza and Chinese takeout.. Also, I was fat before I even started touring as a companion so it’s not even an excuse. Many girls travel the world and don’t gain a pound. I just need to follow my hunger cues and stop eating when I’m not hungry. Especially snacking at night. My goal is to make sure to eat fruits/veggies every day and to cut out refined sugar - chocolate is where I lose control.

The book:

I read « The Obesity Code » by Jason Fung and it was a great book to understand how insulin plays a huge role when it comes to losing/gaining weight. The key notes to weight loss are basically:

- Fasting is very important

- Reduce your consumption of added sugars (replace them with fruits, dark chocolate 70%+)

- Reduce your consumption of refined sugar and grains (flour & refined grains)

- Moderate your protein intake

- Increase your consumption of natural fats

- Increase your consumption of fiber and vinegar

To summarize this post:

My #1 priority right now is to take care of my mental & physical health so that I can lose the weight that is currently making me extremely unhappy and self-conscious.

To do so, I hired a life coach and will start sessions with her so that I can learn how to cope with my feelings other than to eat my heart out.

On top of that emotion/mental journey, I am also dedicated to a healthier lifestyle which will consist of intermittent fasting, reducing my consumption of refined sugar, eat more greens and be more active on a daily basis❤️

Stats

Height - 165CM/5’5 

BMI - 35

My weight on September 16, 2022: 96.25KG/ 212.19lbs

My current thoughts 💭:

Identity change that I am adopting

- I am a woman who only eats when she is hungry and stops as soon as she is no longer hungry

- I am a woman who is athletic (exercise daily)

- I am a woman who takes care of herself (daily hygiene routine, good sleeping pattern, grooming)

What plan I will be following for the next month:

1) Intermittent fasting - Follow hunger cues and only eat when hungry + no food after 8PM unless going out

2) Reduce consumption of refined sugar and replace it with fruits + reduce consumption of refined grains

3) Daily exercise - long walks or gym

4) Drink lots of water and green tea 🍵 💧

My goal for October 16, 2022 is to weigh 90KG.

*I will be doing a monthly update and let you guys know how I’ve been doing for the past month to keep myself accountable xx

[searidings]

as a gesture of goodwill lena let's any of the superfriends ask questions and she has to answer as best as she can. she expects questions about why she turned into a supervillian and how she expects them to trust her again, however it takes about three minutes for them to start abusing this power. lena almost cries when nia asks why they can't just print more money.

“C’mon, Luthor. We’ve all done it. Now it’s your turn.”

Alex’s voice is slurred, and she’s leaning so heavily into Kelly’s side on the couch that she’s practically horizontal. Her cheeks are flushed – a byproduct of the obscene quantities of alcohol consumed thus far – but her expression is dogged, determined.

“Yeah!” Nia crows from the floor, allowing Brainy to prop her upright when she sways dangerously. “Come on, Lena, it’ll be fun. Five minutes of our questions and you have to answer honestly. Totally n’completely honestly.”

Lena blanches. “I’m not sure—”

“You gotta!” Nia half-yells, then seems to catch herself under Brainy’s disapproving gaze. “I mean, you don’t gotta,” she continues more quietly. “Only if you wanna. But s’good for us. It’s fun. Rebuilding trust. Open communication. S’right, isn’t it, Kelly?”

Kelly, the most sober of the group by a country mile, purses her lips. “I’m not sure this is exactly what I had in mind when I suggested trust-building—”

“We’ve got the spirit,” Alex mumbles into her girlfriend’s shoulder as Nia slaps Brainy’s thigh, grinning. “No, s’better.”

“I’m not sure it is better,” Kara mumbles from her position on the floor, leaning against the armchair Lena’s sitting in. Her cheeks are still beet-red, a lingering reminder of her own turn in the honesty hot-seat during which she’d admitted – under much duress – to having had a crush on Simba the lion during her adolescence. Simba the animated lion.

“You don’t have to,” she twists to murmur, chin propped on Lena’s knee as she stares up at her with earnest blue eyes. “Ignore them. You don’t have to do or say anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lena says, to convince herself as much as the blonde currently tracing light patterns up and down Lena’s calf with her fingernails. “It’s just like truth or dare, except nobody will dare me to buy Fox News this time.”

She fixes Nia with a pointed look. The brunette at least has the good grace to look a little abashed.

“You already bought one media empire for a friend,” Nia shrugs, and there’s a pointed significance to her tone that Lena flatly decides not to acknowledge. “What’s one more?”

Lena ignores her, distracted by the way Kara’s head has lolled so that her cheek rests against Lena’s thigh. Her wandering hand has slid up Lena’s calf to cup the back of her knee, and Lena struggles to remember the point she’d been attempting to make.

“It’s all good,” she smiles down at Kara’s furrowed brow, aiming for reassurance and praying she makes it. “Since I’ve heard about Kelly stealing a McDonald’s sign in college and Nia accidentally texting lingerie photos to her boss, the least I can do is return the favour.”

She swallows hard, squares her shoulders. “It’s just a game.”

Just a game, just a game, she chants in her head as a constant reminder. She can handle a game. Even if it does require her own brutal honesty in front of people she’d once considered family but who, for a while there, had maybe almost definitely been prepared to kill her.

She bites the inside of her cheek hard, trying not to let her anxiety show. What the hell are they going to ask her? An awful lot of alcohol has been consumed tonight, and Alex and Nia in particular aren’t known for their tact and discretion at the best of times. Stomach twisting with nerves, she considers the sorts of thinly-veiled accusations that might come her way.

Why did you use Kryptonite on Kara? How do you feel about finally living up to the Luthor name? Are you planning on mind-controlling all of humanity again in the near future?

Lena digs her fingernails hard into her denim-clad thigh, trying to school her features into a semblance of open neutrality. Trying to fathom a way to get through this game with both her newfound oath of honesty and her fragile heart intact.

Kara’s eyes fall on Lena’s tensed fingers and she pries them out of the meat of her thigh, lacing them with her own and giving Lena’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Lena smiles weakly down at her as Nia sets a timer on her phone.

“Okay, five minutes on the clock,” the brunette slurs. “Go!”

For a moment, the room is deathly silent. Lena’s heart is in her throat, her stomach down somewhere around her ankles as she waits for the inevitable laundry list of her many sins to be hung out to dry.

One second, the only sound is the ticking of Kara’s ridiculously gaudy goldfish wall clock. The next, the floodgates open.

“Would you allow me to partner with you on L-Corp’s newest black-body radiation project?” Brainy asks at the exact moment Nia yells, “Will you take me shopping?”

Lena blinks, a little blindsided. Nia misinterprets her hesitance, backtracking so quickly her garbled speech is almost unintelligible. “I don’t mean pay for me,” she huffs at Alex’s incredulous eyebrow raise, turning back to Lena. “I just mean, teach me how to dress. You always look so good.”

“I, um. Yes?” Lena manages, smiling at both Nia and Brainy as her alcohol-clouded brain tries to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. Satisfied in the first round of questioning, the group winds up for a second onslaught.

“Who’s the most famous person in your phone contacts?” Kelly smiles at her. “Apart from Supergirl, of course.”

“Are you richer than Elon Musk?” Nia chimes in. “Do you sleep on a bed of money? Actually, do you sleep at all?”

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done while drunk?” Alex smirks. “Is it worse than the time Kara convinced you to sing N*Sync karaoke with her?”

“I should like to learn how to fence,” Brainy says solemnly, intertwining his fingers with Nia’s. “It is a complex and highly-skilled activity requiring both strategic planning and an excellent understanding of mechanical physics, in addition to athleticism. It is thus the ideal means for me to, as Nia puts it, get some bounce in my buns. Would you be willing to practice with me?”

“If I eat one whole salad, will you come with me to try the new waffle place on Third?” That’s Kara, of course, blinking up at her big and angelic. “And promise not to order the healthiest thing on the menu?”

Nia narrows her eyes, smirking as she circles round for another go. “Is that your natural hair colour?”

Lena does her best to parry the volley of questions with smiles and nods and gasped-out answers before the next request hits her like a missile. It’s overwhelming in the best way, to be the centre of attention for good, for once. The room is noisy and warm and every face around the coffee table is smiling at her and Lena thinks, maybe they’ll be okay, in the end. Maybe they’ll be okay, after all.

“Okay,” Nia drawls three minutes in, head pillowed in Brainy’s lap ever since she’d gotten too excited in her questioning and forgotten how to hold herself up. “You’re, like, a literal genius. If you can’t explain it to me, no one can.”

Kelly’s brow furrows. “I’m not sure this is the type of question—”

“No, I wanna know,” Nia huffs. “Leeeeeena, make it make sense! Like, why can’t they just print more money though? Then we could all be billionaires.”

Lena frowns. “I mean, economics isn’t my specialty but I’m fairly sure that wouldn’t—”

“But why not?” Nia insists. “Like, we can make money. We can just make it, so. Let’s make more.”

Lena glances helplessly around the room, but it seems she won’t be getting any support in this matter. Brainy and Kelly look too tired and/or drunk to be of any use in quelling Nia’s barrage of questions, while the Danvers sisters seem genuinely invested in hearing Lena’s answer.

“I think it’s a great plan,” Nia continues. “We just print money until we have enough. No more poverty. Yay!”

Lena winces at the incognizable logic, thanking God her college economics professor isn’t here to witness this trainwreck. “The price of everything would go up,” she tries weakly. “Inflation—”

“Okay,” Nia cuts her off, unperturbed. “But we create prices, right? We create markets. So let’s just, you know. Not.”

“Not?” Lena echoes feebly, despair mounting.

“Yeah,” Nia drawls, slapping her hand around blindly on the floor until her fingers find her beer bottle and she can take a long pull. “We made up money. We made up all of it. So let’s just, like. Un-make-up poverty. Print money for everyone!”

Lena’s mouth opens and closes hopelessly. She doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s so wrong, all of it, every single thing Nia has said. But she doesn’t have the slightest clue how to go about answering. At this point, she’s not even sure what the original question was. She’s not sure Nia is either.

Blessedly, Kara decides to once again utilise her almost preternatural ability to detect Lena’s inner turmoil, slapping a hand on the coffee table with finality. “No more money questions,” she only very slightly slurs, fixing her protégé with a firm stare. “You’re wasting all our time. Nia is banned from questions for one whole minute.”

She bangs her fist on the table again, a makeshift gavel. Nia pouts, slouching back into Brainy’s lap with a huff.

“I’ve passed my ruling; court is adjourned,” Kara says solemnly, pretzel crumbs shaking themselves free from her sweater as she addresses the room. “Someone else may take the stand.”

“Nia does not appreciate the personalised poetry I write for her,” Brainy sniffs, mock-glaring down at his girlfriend. “Lena, if I recite my most recent sonnet to you, would you tell me—”

“No!” Alex, Kara and Nia yell in unison. Lena shrugs apologetically as Brainy’s mouth snaps shut with a disgruntled click, his frown softening only when Nia reaches up to stroke a loving hand against his cheek.

“How much money do you spend on kale in a year?” Kara asks suddenly, eyes narrowed. “Is it more than my couch is worth, d’you think?”

Lena shrugs, and Kara’s face twists in horror. “More than the cost of my TV?”

Another shrug. Kara appears genuinely close to tears, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. “More than the cost of my apartment?”

Lena smiles and pats her cheek as Alex perks up, eyes gleaming. “Did you kill Morgan Edge?” she asks eagerly, drunkenness momentarily forgotten. “Is that why he just disappeared? Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell anyone. In fact, I thought about doing it myself.”

Lena gapes, caught somewhere between laughter and outrage. “Did I—? No I did not.”

“Did Kara kill him for you?” Alex volleys without missing a beat. “And you’re covering for her? I swear I won’t arrest either of you. Scout’s honour.”

“You were never a Girl Scout,” Kara accuses, and Lena’s mouth drops open.

“That’s your problem with what she just said?”

Kara just shrugs amiably, scooting her way in between Lena’s legs so she can lean her head back in her lap, whining in the back of her throat until Lena reaches out a hand to card her fingers absentmindedly through her hair.

“Can you design me a suit that lets me fly?” Nia asks, ignoring Kara’s protests that her minute-long ban has not yet expired. “Not that I don’t love Supergirl piggybacking me home after a fight, but it would be way cooler if I could do it myself.”

“Um. I can try,” Lena offers, and the way the young woman beams at her makes her feel warm from head to toe.

The timer on Nia’s cell phone is ticking down, and with less than half a minute left Kelly leans forward suddenly, her expression gentle.

“I have a question for you,” she starts, and Lena braces herself. “What can we do to show you how much we appreciate you?”

Lena blinks. “I’m— sorry?”

Kelly’s lips curve up in a knowing smile. “I’m serious, Lena. I know it’s taken a lot for you to decide to work on re-strengthening your relationships with all of us. We’d have been lost without your help fighting your brother and honestly, we were all a little lost in general when you weren’t around.” Her eyes flick to Kara who nods emphatically, rolling her head to press a sloppy kiss to Lena’s thigh.

“Forgiveness and healing are a two-way street,” Kelly continues, and beneath the warmth of the therapist’s gentle attention Lena feels her eyes begin to mist over. “So, that’s my question. How can we make up for the pain we’ve caused you? How can we show you how much you mean to us?”

“Yeah,” Nia chimes in as Lena’s throat tightens against the hot sting of tears. “Do you have any inventions that stop people being stupid? Can you use it on all of us, so we never do anything that makes you want to leave us again?”

“How can I show you how sorry I am?” Alex asks quietly at the same moment Kara murmurs, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

“We’re not trying to put any pressure on you,” Kelly cuts in, shooting a hard glance at both Danvers sisters who duck their heads in sync, suitably chastised. “You don’t have to say anything right now. But think about it, yeah?”

Lena nods because she can’t do anything else, throat closed over as she lifts her chin, trying to blink the gathering tears back into her lacrimal glands. The room falls quiet for a moment and the loving weight of the gazes fixed upon her is so overwhelming that Lena almost sobs in relief when Nia’s phone timer shatters the silence.

“Aw, nuts,” Nia pouts. “I had one more question!”

Sensing the way Lena stiffens, Kara shakes her head. “Nope. Finito. Adios, amigo.”

“But it was a really good one,” Nia complains. “I swear.”

“Nia, you’ve had your—” Kelly starts but Nia’s already yelling over her. “Can I hug you?”

Her earnest gaze roots Lena to the spot like a deer in the headlights and she’s barely nodded her acquiescence when Nia is rocketing unsteadily towards her. “Pile on!” she yells and the next thing Lena knows five pairs of arms are looping their way around her in various uncomfortable-looking contortions. Alex rests her chin on the crown of Lena’s head, Nia and Kelly taking a shoulder each while Brainy contents himself with patting the back of Lena’s hand comfortingly.

Kara has all but climbed into her lap, knees straddling Lena’s thighs as she presses her face to the crook of Lena’s neck, breath ghosting hot over her skin. The entire configuration is stiflingly warm and objectively uncomfortable and Lena’s pretty sure she has someone’s knee making a home in her kidney and at least two separate arms pulling painfully on her hair, and she’s not sure she’s ever been happier.

“Missed you,” Nia all but drools against Lena’s shoulder, head lolling as unconsciousness beckons. “Love you.”

Lena’s throat tightens again as the others repeat the sentiment, disembodied hands stroking over her hair, her back, her shoulders. She feels like the world’s most pampered house cat, petted and patted to within an inch of her life, and she’s just drunk enough that she never wants the sensation to end. Maybe she’ll start purring.

“Yeah,” Kara mumbles straight into Lena’s skin, her voice vibrating through Lena’s body and settling somewhere hot and deep. “Yeah. Missed you, Lena. Love you,” she hums, quiet and close. “I love you.”

Lena doesn’t know if the others overhear Kara’s whisper. In this moment, she doesn’t know anything at all, anything that exists outside of the blissful weight of Kara’s body atop her own, of Kara’s strong hands moulded tenderly to her hips, of Kara’s lips pressing warm and deliberate to the underside of her jaw.

Lena’s brain has vacated the premises entirely, along with her capacity to convert air into useable oxygen. Rendered immobile by more than just the five bodies pressing her into the armchair, she tugs one trapped arm free to fist tightly in the front of Kara’s sweatshirt.

One of Kara’s hands vacates its position on her hip and pries her fingers free only to intertwine them with her own and squeeze tightly, and somehow the gesture feels like even more of an earnest declaration than her words had.

It feels like a chance. It feels like a promise.

Lena squeezes back.

“So,” Nia slurs next to her ear and Lena jumps. She’d momentarily forgotten they weren’t alone; an impressive feat considering her current bottom-of-the-hug-pile position.

Nia’s head lolls on her shoulder, her eyelids fluttering shut. “Not that this isn’t an adorable moment,” she drawls as she pats Lena’s cheek clumsily, and Lena almost loses an eye to her flailing fingers. “But are we gonna talk about how I just solved world poverty, or…?”

[holden-caulfield]

Desperately

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

SUMMARY: reader and blaise are partners in potions class and he lets something slip about a certain friend of his.

WARNINGS: none i think!

WORD COUNT: 1513

A/N: this is my entry for @simpology 's writing challenge with the prompt "Oh, and he's wretchedly in love with you"... hope this is good :)) the plot is kind of confusing but just go along with it

"Do you have the instructions?" asked a nonchalant Blaise Zabini as he settled next to you, letting his bag fall down next to his chair.

"Of course, yes. We'll need-"

"I know, i've already picked everything." he said hurriedly as he placed several bottles and containers on the table, surrounding the boiling cauldron at the center of it.

"Oh! Ok... we can start then, we'll have to add-" you interrupted your reading as you noticed Blaise already pouring a non-specified quantity of some green liquid into the cauldron.

You eyed him curiously as he continued the potion-making on his own.

"Why did you ask me about the instructions if-" he raised his index finger in front of your face, successfully shutting you up and irritating you at the same time.

He poured another range of ingredients in the cauldron and began mixing, finally raising his eyes at you.

"Now we can talk about important things." he stated, not stopping his movements.

"You just interrupted me twice in the span of 5 minutes, what could be possibly more important than the potion that Snape is going to grade today?" you asked with annoyance audible in your voice as you crossed your arms in front of you.

"Don't worry about the potion, it's going splendid. We have far more important matters to discuss." his calm voice was doing nothing to soothe you, instead doing just the opposite.

"And what is that?"

"You." he announced, remaining as stoic as a statue.

Your eyes widened at the mere syllable that had just left his mouth.

"Me? And what about me?"

"Not exactly you, more like your current situation." his eyes bored into yours with such coolness you wondered whether you were the daft one there.

"My situation? And what-"

"Your sentimental situation." he cut you off. Again.

"It's the third time you do that."

"And you keep on posing questions but i'm the one that should be asking and we don't have a lot of time. Do you know Draco Malfoy?"

"What does that even mean?!" he raised an eyebrow at you, unimpressed, and you simply scoffed. "I'm not interested in whatever game you are playing right now, Zabini."

"Just answer my questions, y/l/n, i swear there is a point." he continued stirring the concoction, eventually dropping new ingredients. You sighed but decided to play his game.

"Yes, yes i know him."

"How would you describe him?"

"Zabini, i swear, this isn't making any sense, can you-"

"What did i say about asking questions?" he scolded you. You rolled your eyes and narrowed them at the boy in front of you.

"Fine. He's blond, tall-"

"Not physically, you idiot." he scoffed and you smiled to yourself, which made him eventually soften his gaze.

"He's a slytherin and..." you didn't know what to say. You obviously knew about his past actions, he wasn't exactly well-seen at hogwarts.

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"And i don't know, he's not the nicest person around, i think."

"Interesting." he muttered, almost to himself as he got lost in his own thoughts. "What do you think about me then?"

"You? You are like him, aren't you?" you asked, smirking as you did so.

"I don't know, i'm asking you." he said, returning the smile with playful eyes. You scoffed and returned to your potions book but Blaise snatched it our of your hands. "We were talking, weren't we?"

"We were supposed to brew a potion, weren't we?" you asked, mimicking his previous sentence while taking back your book.

"I got that under control." he added other ingredients and at this point you were wondering whether he knew what he was doing or whether he was improvising just to talk to you. "So, me and Draco are the same, correct?"

"Actually," you said while trying to find the passage in your book, "i hope he has half the patience i have or he should have hexed you ages ago."

You skimmed through the pages but you couldn't find the right ones. Blaise grasped it again and hid it behind his back, earning the most choleric stare you could muster.

"Or maybe i don't. I'd love to see him hex you. Know what? I might do it myself."

"Now that's a wonderful idea." your eyes widened again and, furrowing your eyebrows, you just stared at the boy i front of you, wondering what had happened to him. "But i had something else in mind. Why don't you go take your book back, we might need it."

You switched your gaze from his own eyes to his hands and noticed that he had no longer the book, instead his wand, pointed towards one of the other tables of the class. A table you noticed had two copies of the same book on it, meaning one had to be yours.

"What game are you playing, Zabini? Do you even know what you're doing there?" you asked, pointing to the concoction.

"I don't, so you better get your book back if you want to fix this." he said and you could feel anger boiling in your chest at the smugness of the slytherin.

You marched towards the table, exasperated.

"Oh, and y/n?" you turned around while walking, eyes still flaming with annoyance, "he's wretchedly in love with you."

You couldn't process the new cryptical information as you bumped into someone. You immediately returned your eyes to the front of you, finding a tall blond there, holding your book in between your bodies.

"Is this yours?" he lifted slightly the book but you were speechless. What had Blaise just said? "Cat got your tongue? I'm asking if this is yours..."

Your eyes darted from his to the book several times before settling on the latter.

"Yes! Yes, it is." you finally spoke and heard chuckling coming from behind you. Blaise.

Draco handed you the book and you took it slowly, still unsure of what your next move should have been.

"Wait!" you said, a little louder than you intended to but enough to catch his attention as he was returning to his own workplace. "Do you- uhm..."

He stared at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence but it was not as easy as it sounded.

"Do you want to switch partners?" you managed to let out, visibly confusing him.

"You want to be with Nott?"

"With you actually... Blaise said-"

"Blaise said what?" he suddenly got more serious, his irises darkening as if you had just created a storm.

"He said-"

"I said you are the best at potions and she needs help. Desperately." Blaise came up from behind you, laying his hands on your shoulder, still stiff from the embarrassment but it immediately vanished as you heard the voice, leaving its place to irritation.

"I do not need help and most certainly not desperately." you stated indignantly and the blond in front of you let out a small chuckle, earning himself an angry look from you too.

"I'll leave you to it then." he said smirking and you quickly grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving you with Blaise.

"Please no, i can't bear another minute with him." you pleaded, which made the blond suppress a chuckle and his friend roll his eyes, clearly annoyed.

You stared at him for a moment longer as he did the same, almost as if time had frozen.

"Well... i'll leave you two to it" Blaise began to make his way to Draco's previous working table, "maybe you'll finally be able to tell her about your crush on her, huh?"

Draco's head whipped towards Blaise as fast as lightning, a panicked look ruling over his features. His best friend kept going, leaving the two of you alone, speechless.

You stared at him and he stared at you.

"I like you too-"

"He was kidding-"

"Oh." you both said in unison.

He stared at you and you stared at him. No more words were exchanged, just looks.

"You like me?" he asked tentatively.

"He was kidding?" you retorted, slightly hurt and embarrassed now.

"That depends."

"On what? On how ridiculous i must look right now?" you continued, the embarrassment turning quickly into annoyance.

"On whether you really like me or not." you were still unconvinced, his face unreadable as you tried to look for an ounce of sincerity in his silvery eyes, "Because i do like you, y/l/n."

Your brows still furrowed, you stared at him inquisitively.

"Were you the one kidding?" he asked now, suddenly self-conscious, letting out a single dry nervous chuckle.

You scrutinized him a little longer, noticing his confidence wavering and his patience thinning from the way he was looking at you.

"I wasn't." you finally stated, smirking at the blond boy in front of you.

He furrowed his brows too, the corners of his mouth hinting at a slight smile. But the sharp hit on both of your heads delivered by professor Snape made you both hurry back to your table.

"Get back to work."

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[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Can I ask what it would be like for Solsu having to take care of drunk romanced companions? Bonus points if they're told about their shenanigans afterword.

Cait:

(Angry drunk)

•It's best that you don't drink in polite company with her. She's already a feisty individual with a burning passion for inflicting pain, you make her drunk and it's only a matter of time before she incites some horrible fight.

•Sounds funny, but it's really not. Reign her back. Please.

Curie:

.......you aren't really gonna let her drink, right? I highly advise you don't....

Danse:

(Horny drunk 👀)

•Danse hardly ever partakes in more than a couple glasses with company and this is exactly why.

•At first it all starts off nice and smooth, just Danse beginning to gradually relax- which is "outstanding" considering his usual rigid disposition. However once that fine line of too many drinks have been crossed, all hell breaks loose.

•It'll start with comments on your appearance, simple incessant "you look beautiful"s spoken with dazed eyes...then it escalates to Danse pulling you into his lap where you're met with his obvious "intentions" prodding you in the ass, all while being held in a bear hug from a blushing, smiling Paladin who happens to look like a kicked puppy when you make him calm down with a drink of water. Don't worry, he might mope but he'll quit if you tell him to.

•Perks back up when you tell him it's time to go to bed...only to mope even more when he realizes that no, it isn't for sexy times. No worries, he'll be happy so long as you let him hold you..

•Is absolutely ashamed and horrified of his behavior when he wakes up and you tell him what went down. Probably will hide his face in his pillows and try to disappear. Swears he won’t drink again and make a fool of himself like that….will totally drink some more.

•Just be lucky he wasn’t feeling melancholic like a post BB Danse would.

Deacon:

(Stupid drunk..)

•Ever seen that one video of that guy busting through drywall like Kool-Aid Man? That's Deacon's level of maturity when properly intoxicated.

•No worries, Desdemona is going to bitch at him from the time he does something too stupid until he isn't even drunk anymore. Frankly, he deserves it too- he's destructive, reckless, and...well..hilarious, but that doesn't mean it's redeemable!

•He seems to perfectly remember all his antics, some he even reflects upon with a proud grin..until his hangover ends up making him wince in pain. Just...take care of him, there isn't any point in trying to scold him. Des has that covered anyways.

Gage:

(Emotional drunk)

•A drunk gage was both extremely rare because of his genuine hate for alcohol and also very shocking. Sure, one may assume that someone so rugged and tough like a raider- especially Gage- would have no issue handling his liquor....oh how wrong you could be...

•You weren't entirely sure what happened, much less where he got the idea, but somehow Gage got the absurd notion that you decided he wasn't good enough for you and you were going to just leave him behind. He'd keep it in for a while, slowly growing more quiet as he took practical gulps of his drink. That doesn't last.

•Eventually he starts to cry, silent tears pouring from his good eye. Whenever you actually notice, it's too late. Just pray no one else is around when this next part happens.

•All it takes is you coming to his side, placing a comforting hand on his back and he crumbles. He'll grab you and push his face into your chest and start sobbing, wailing incoherently as he begs you to not leave him.

•It might seem humorous, but it raised several questions.

•The morning after his outburst, you wake up extra early to present him with a half way decent breakfast in bed- extra grease on the food for good measure. Once he seems to be more coherent, you make sure to talk to him about his apparent fear of you not loving him...which brings him close to tears once again whenever you finally convince him that you do in fact love him and won't ever leave his side so long as he loves you back.

Hancock:

(Stealthy drunk)

•Unfortunately, the mayor of Goodneighbor doesn't really have any fun antics..well at least any that would point to him being intoxicated. Sorry.

Macready:

(Over indulging drunk)

•Mac is arguably the best one to get shit faced with, especially if you like drugs and food. Oh yeah, something about eating while intoxicated is irresistible to him. Think of it like munchies, but in Mac's case, five times as bad.

• After a couple drinks, Mac nonchalantly will reach into his pocket- gesturing for you to come close- before putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting up- using your's to light his own. If you don't set a stopping point, the two of you will wake up down two packs, several empty containers of jet, and crumbs everywhere.

•When faced with the consequences of his gluttony, Mac will just sit there and whine as his stomach does cartwheels. That's punishment enough...

Maxson:

(Mr. Vomits-a-lot drunk)

•It takes a whole hell of a lot for Maxson to get shitfaced thanks to his rather strict habitual drinking. After all, it would be a strange day if you didn't see him knock a bottle of whisky out before finally turning in..which was kind of sad come to think of it..

•Nonetheless, he does occasionally push his limits when he's especially stressed and it's never pleasant when he does.

•It was sort of funny, in retrospect. One minute you and him were sitting on the flight deck together, casually talking whilst finishing off a bottle of shitty vodka (unknowing that he had already burned through countless bottles before meeting you) when suddenly Arthur started to look pale. It just kept getting worse until eventually he was frantically motioning for you to follow him as he ran to the railings, sticking his head over before throwing up whatever was on his stomach..sending it to a several hundred foot drop below.

•It's a good thing you held him, otherwise the brotherhood might've been short an elder and you short a partner.

•When confronted with his..let's say "overindulgence", he'll sort of look away and try to change the subject. It's probably best if you try to hide liquor for a while. 

Nick:

(Doesn't drink....)

Old Longfellow:

With his age and experience? He's the same as Hancock.

Piper:

(Daredevil drunk)

•Hope you're sober, because if you aren't- there's a good chance you'll be spending the night in Diamond City Jail.

•Piper is reckless on a good day, putting alcohol with that in mass quantities and she's wild. Just hope you have strong will, because she sure as shit isn't going to back down easy.

•It's kind of funny, but her go to is to do crazy shit. Jump off the roof? Hold her cup. Want to vandalize the great green wall? Fuck yeah. Nothing beats the time she wasn't careful and threw a lit cigarette down Ann Codman's cleavage during a heated argument with her.

•She has no regrets either, so don't expect her to be remorseful in the morning whenever you tell her what she did. If anything, she'll just laugh next time she sees Ann.

Preston:

(Over thinking drunk)

•If it wasn't lowkey annoying, you'd probably think Preston's drunken neuroticism was hilarious. Not to be gotten wrong, but even sober, your love could be extremely insistent..mix his anxious attitude with liquor and you end up with a terrible night.

•You knew better than to let him have more than a couple beers, seeing as his tolerance wasn't exactly the best, and yet here you were. Preston pensively sitting at the bar beside you, rich eyes narrowed and focused on the liquid in his glass- his hands resting against his head.

•"I know you're dying to ask...." "Okay babe, since you brought it up...do you think putting electrical wire around our people's settlements would be a bad idea? It might closely resemble a prison but it's for their own good. Wait- shit, what about the kids? Oh god..."

•He may just sheepishly rub the back of his head and apologize in the morning..but he'll be quick to revisit some of the key points and ideas with you if you so much as give him a chance.

X6-88:

(Ridiculous drunk)

•It was only one time..thankfully.

•You, and your whole group of friends had to convince him to try it out- but once he started, he couldn't stop.

•This asshole would throw down drinks faster than Hancock..which was terrible considering his painfully low tolerance to alcohol.

•One thing goes to another and next thing you know, "The Wanderer" is playing in the background, X is singing and dancing like an idiot, and everyone is gathered around- terrified at what they were seeing. It's sort of like seeing a deathclaw do ballet- so, totally understandable.

•He dares you to bring it up later, dares you.

[chaoxfix]

16 and/or 27 :3c <- guy who lurks around but is obsessed with ur fics hi

heya ! thanks for the ask :0 <3

16. What is your favorite character (or characters) to write for? Sonic & Tails. ...So basically I have zero self control and just do what I like best in large quantities haha. I also love writing Sally but haven't written her as much bc Archie is a whole can of worms and I like game-Sonic's personality and storylines better than Archie. Which is why my ideal fic would be Sally swapping into Elise's role, which I do have plans to write and have had plans for ages. 27: Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc) hmmmm... I won't do 1st person POV for anything but original works. I also, full stop, won't do gore -- or engage with it, under any circumstance, because I'm the type to get lightheaded just seeing gore or hearing descriptions of a bloody scene ... so having to write it.... would not work well. ^^;; ive passed out multiple times from gorey stories and imagery, it's not fun. even just hearing about something with bodily trauma for longer than a minute or two kind of makes my brain go numb...? if anyone needs a reference for what it feels like to pass out / start to go into shock, i can do that sometime, lol. i also try not to do anything that is too... irl, or diagnosable (?), or genuinely traumatizing, in Sonic's world? If it's real and life-altering or traumatizing and people suffer from it IRL... if it's something that causes real pain and harm and needs diagnosed or treated irl, i wouldn't really want to include it by name in a fic. partly out of respect, if it is not something i face myself, as i wouldnt want to misrepresent it by name (and even if i do face certain things, i also have a hard line for myself about not projecting using fic, because it would be a very bad coping strategy for me). and, more than just out of respect for certain topics, sometimes concepts just feel too heavy for the franchise's bright colors, and if i write about it as matter-of-factly as it deserves in real life... it might feel out of place in sonic's world. for example, i made a post earlier about insecurity vs self loathing vs guarded personalities. i would feel comfortable writing those words and exploring those ideas in fics -- but i would hesitate to name them as, say, an anxiety disorder, depression, or ramifications of child neglect. maybe in an original work it could feel organic if i crafted it that way from the start; but i read and write sonic fics for more lighthearted themes, and explorations of family and friendship and, in general, somewhat lighter and more fantastical and rock-and-roll concepts. so again, it feels too heavy to name some of these directly -- even if in some ways, i still want to explore portions of those heavier concepts, piece by piece.

best example i can give is the reason the word "torture" feels so out of place in the english dub of sonic forces. i'll explore this idea extensively in fics, because now it's part of the lore, and its out-of-placeness makes it something i want to pick at -- but the reason i feel it has to be fixed or altered in some way in order to be palatable is because fundamentally, heavy topics like that feel too big and too real for this franchise. to make them smaller and more sonicified, you have to alter them; make them fantastical and rock-and-roll so they finally fit. so it stops being, "sonic was tortured for 6 months" because blood and chains feel wrong in this series -- and to me, it becomes "sonic was a battery for 6 months" and/or "infinite gave sonic false realities / false projections of his friends for 6 months" because it feels more like it's part of this world. ........or just take it the classic way and say "rouge is just exaggerating because sitting still for 6 months would be torture for sonic"

ah... at this point im definitely rambling -- sorry! ^^;;

thank you for the ask ! <3

[sparkledfirecracker]

Deeds For The Big Screen

I see writing as a form of creative artwork with everyone having its own liking or preference to it.

Do not interact if you are uncomfortable with any of the given warnings or if you are a minor. 

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, proceed to read with care. Warnings have been up and mentioned, if I missed any please feel free to let me know. 

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, explicit language, sexwork, porn industry, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, oral receiving (f), swearing

Rating: explicit

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You’re taking power into your hands when your actors don’t seem to do their job and are wasting expensive production time.

Word count: 3006

 A/N: This might be a little rusty, I haven’t done this in a while, but some creators have inspired me to pick up writing again! Fairly new to Tumblr, despite having an account for years and having done zero with it. Apparently me dreaming about different story ideas has become a thing now. So bear with me here. As said; if I missed any warnings please feel free to let me know.

@punani​ ’s ‘The Fluffer’ was inspiration for the chosen work field. So thank you for writing that magnificent piece.

English is not my native language; my grammar mistakes are purely my own. Constructive criticism is allowed and appreciated, I won’t bite unless you’re being rude.

I do not consent to have my work copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been reposted without my permission or consent. By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old!!!

Please do feel free to comment, like or reblog.

ENJOY!!!

---------------------------

Deeds For The Big Screen

Irritation bubbling underneath your annoyed expression, your lips tightly pressed together. Fingernails tapping aggressively on the armrests of your director’s chair. Your legs crossed, bouncing with frustration at the sight in front of you. It seemed liked the actors onsite were on a mission to make everyone’s life on set hell. Your hands grabbing the armrests your knuckles white from the intense grip of the edges of your chair.

You were a visionaire, adultery was your passion, you had been in the business for year before starting your own company. Focusing on the female friendlier porn demand had paid of well for you, your company was your pride and you thrived on the success. You ran a tight ship, time was money and currently both actors were wasting every second of it. The current creative project was not being envisioned at all. It had been meticulously drawn out on a storyboard, it seemed like everything that had been discussed and rehearsed was thrown out the window.

You let out an annoyed huff, it had been hours on end anything between action and cut. Your million-dollar superstar was propped on his elbows towering over the fragile body underneath him. His hips franticly pumping in and out of the actress underneath him, who was clawing her nails into his skin desperately. Was he really the problem or was it the useless woman caged underneath him. Her super loud moans that probably could be heard at the other side of the world and the quantity of clawing at his skin.

 “CUT!!!” you yelled and everyone in the production stopped, heavy sighs heard across the studio. Your hands rubbed your face slightly not wanting to yell or lose control of the raging thoughts running through your mind.

“What’s wrong this time?” your most prized possession asked, the annoyance clearly dripping of his tone. He stood up facing you, his hands falling to his hips, sticking out his chest while his thick muscle stood proud against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but take in the sight, his cock was red and he was painfully hard. You licked your lips and took in a deep breath, trying to refocus on your thoughts.

“Alright let me make myself very clear here. The crew is TIRED and I am tired of fucking repeating myself” you took another deep breath as you felt anger rising “was I not clear enough when we had a table read yesterday and when we rehearsed this morning?” your eyes switching between the actors. No response “An answer would be nice, because that storyboard on the wall contains every movement of where body parts go during every fucking scene”

“Get the fuck out Y/N, you know storyboards only contains the major outlines of a grand story being told, it is different when you are pumping in and out of a body you know. You don’t always get to choose where a hand, leg or cock lands”

“Ari, we are in the god forsaken porn industry, that thick throbbing dick better end up in the fucking dripping vagina, between her lips or even in that nice and tight puckered hole” you could hear a few supressed snickers from the crew. Ari just kept staring you down “Right now all I see is stiffness, no passion, no fire and absolutely nothing that was on the fucking board or script”

“Whatever Y/N” Ari huffed, you rolled your eyes breaking the tension that was clearly building between you and Ari. You turned your gaze to Edie, who just sat there uncomfortably.

“Edie, can you just tone down on the moans, I know this is your first gig and a step up from the amateur adultery films you have done, but we are not in the cheap kind of porn. This is exclusive, sensual and soft sex. We make porn for the ladies and if it happens that men love it too so be it-” you clapped your hands together trying to get through to the actors in front of you “Also ease up on your facial expressions too they are just too much and stop clawing at Ari, we are not feral wolves in the outskirts of woodsy valley…” you pointed at her, the hostility evident in your voice, she just nodded your way she almost looked too scared to speak. Your attention turned to Ari, just by looking at him you knew he wouldn’t be able to take a lot more of your antics “-And for you mister, I need more open posture. We want to see those muscles work underneath that toned skin of yours. Flex them a little, you want the person watching this to drool from their mouths while their vaginas or arseholes are begging for your majestic cock. Yes, we can do this all rough and tough, but with this project we want fire, passion and mind-blowing sex. Understood?”

Both pornstars nodded your way and you sat back down in your chair. The actors taking their spots again, you raised your hand, cues being called across the room.

“ACTION!” Edie tried her utter best to contain her excessive sounds, but she looked like she was about to take a dump “CUT!”

“Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ari yelled, jumping of the small platform, grabbing his robe from the floor, storming your way while putting on his robe, you got off your chair.

“Is it really that hard to do what I am asking? Edie you look like you are about to take a dump right in front of the camera” you lost control of the anger that had been boiling inside of you. Ari bumped into you, almost knocking you down, it must have been on purpose as you could sense his anger “where the fuck do you think you are going?” he spun on his heels

“I have been edged for hours on end, I need some form of release and it looks like our director is not going to let us get any release for a few more hours” Ari spat your way

“GET BACK HERE!!” you definitely lost control, watching Ari on a mission to march out of the studio “ARI I SAID GET BACK HERE”

“I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING A DOG!!!”

“YOU ARE MY FUCKING TOP DOLLAR DOG, SO YOU BETTER GET THE FUCK BACK BEFORE I FIRE YOU MYSELF” it was true, Ari was your million-dollar star, your company couldn’t have grown without him. He had been there from the beginning, you had him to thank for the success of your company and in return he had you to thank for his stardom.

Your words had made Ari stop in his tracks and turn around, the temperature in the room increasing quickly. You had started to doubt if the room had been that hot the entire time or if it was the arousal creeping through your veins caused by Ari’s deep angered gaze.

He charged your way his finger pointing at you and his mouth was moving, but your hearing seemed to have vanished. You contemplated if you should just show them what you meant or just call it a day. Things were getting heated and the crew was already exhausted enough. Your thoughts interrupted as your mouth started to speak.

“Do I really have to do everything around here?” you muttered under your breath “Edie get off the sunbed and put your robe on” she complied to your order, getting of the stage and putting on her silk robe. You took a moment to analyse your thought, to see if the voice inside your head would protest of what you were contemplating. Nothing came to mind, so instead you unbuttoned your sundress quickly before regretting your decision “Last attempt to film this guys, start rolling. Ari off with the robe, we start from the beginning. Edie take notes” you ordered around the room. Your sundress and underwear falling off your frame piling up next to your director’s chair.

“What are you doing baby girl?” Ari whispered in your ear as you walked backwards his hands holding your hips guiding you towards the double sunbed. His anger seemed to have disappeared and replaced with intrigue.

“Showing you what I want, but mostly taking what I need right now” you replied, he quirked an eyebrow, a smirk plastered on his face in approval “Let’s give them the show they want”

“The show you want” Ari chuckled as he corrected you, before narrowing his eyes a little “The big boss in action, I like it…” Ari whispered as he took in your naked body “I like it a lit” His confident spoken words made you a little insecure, but you hid it well trying to hold your nerves together.

You climbed on the sunbed laying back, your eyes wandered over Ari’s toned chest, his cock aching, your pussy throbbing. You licked your lips and the muscles in your core tightened with the exciting thought of him filling you up to the brim in a matter of minutes, you being at his complete mercy.

“ACTION!” you yelled

Ari crawled on top of you, your hands roamed freely over his arms and chest, his lips crashing on yours briefly before moving on to your neck and your upper torso. Your hands finding their way onto his shoulders, caressing the bare skin. You arched your back at the delight feeling when he sucked on your nipples, a low moan left your lips. Ari’s hands cradling your frame as he peppered kisses further south.

Your eyes following him, he looked back at you through his long lashes as two of his fingers tease your entrance, running gently through your folds. One thing was for sure, you were hot and bothered, all because of the eye candy encaging you in his porn play. He dipped two fingers in your aching core and pumped three times before they stilled inside you. His face coming up to meet yours, his eyes darkened and stole another passionate driven kiss.

His fingers starting pumping you faster earning a few unexpected deep moans. Your lips parting, your lust blown eyes were completely taken by the current moment. Your mind completely forgetting everything was being recorded. Ari’s fingers left your soaking cunt as he lowered his head and settled himself between your legs.

His mouth sucked your clit, you took in a sharp breath. His tongue firmly stroked downward on your slit, enough pressure for a controlled yet obscene moan to escape you. His tongue entered your dripping hole before returning his attention back to your clit. Ari’s fingers rejected as your vaginal muscle had tightened from the attention your clit was receiving. His mouth eased off and he pushed his fingers inside you, your cunt accepting, sucking them in.

The pleasure was almost too much, your hands caressing your upper body finding your breasts. With a feathered touch you rubbed your index fingers over your nipples, biting your bottom lip at the pleasure. Your touch made your nipples erect, the sensation spreading like wildfire through your entire body. Ari increased his pace and your moans and whimpers became more frequent, but in a more wanting and loving way.

Your back started to arch up and you were about to cum, when Ari stopped all his actions. Your eyes shot fully open to protest, but he shushed you by placing two of his fingers in your mouth allowing you a moment to taste yourself before retracting them. You watched him pump his hard cock with his hand, before he gripped your hips as his member slowly pushes down in your sopping cunt.

“Big enough for you princess” Ari grunted as he pushed fully into you.

“Y-Yes” the response was short and simple, your brain not functioning anymore when the pleasure had taken over from the thoughts. His tempo made your eyes roll backwards, your hips meeting his rhythm as he held a firm grasp on your hips helping and guiding you up and down on him. Without warning Ari stopped and flipped you over. A fistful of hair grabbed pulling you back, his grasp wasn’t harsh and only intensified your lustful awakening.

His left arm snaking around your waist finding your right boob, giving it a sinful squeeze, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He held your back close to his chest while his lips sucked pleasure marks on your neck and breathing heavily into your ear, whispering nothing but obscenities to you. Your arms lifted up and your hands fisted his hair, your fingernails scraping his scalp a little. He growled in your ear, you repeated your actions and he gave your hip a single firm squeeze.

His cock slowly being dragged in and out of you, your walls coating his thick veined cock. The squelching noises pulled from the juices being pulled from between your legs. Ari’s hands running freely over your skin setting it on fire. You felt fucked out and your orgasm was building rapidly. 

Ari must have felt it as his hips started bucking up into you even faster, making is his mission to finish you. Your moans of sin becoming frequent again, Ari’s wandering hand slid in between your folds, rubbing your clit gently, pushing you even closer to the edge. One of your hands held onto his wrist holding it in the pleasurable place whilst the other placed on the nape of his neck, fingers gripping the hairs at the bottom.

Your orgasm washed over you as Ari let you ride out your high before pulling you off, laying you flat on the double sunbed. As you tried to calm your breathing he straddled you underneath him, pumping his member faster. The white strings of sin faltering out of his cock, you leaned up on your elbows and opened your mouth while he decorated your face and chest. 

Licking your lips with his salty cum, you swallowed and stared back at Ari who seemed to enjoy the fucked out sight in front of him. When he had finished squirting his load on you, he cradled your head in his large hands, his thumbs running over your lips before leaning in to steal one last fiery kiss. You separated from the kiss and kept staring each other in the eyes for what felt like hours.

“Happy boss?” Ari questioned still holding your head gently as you nodded your head

“CUT!” you yelled, Ari climbed off of you and helped you up.

“WOW, that was amazing” Edie clapped being stunned by the scene that just had taken place.

“Thanks, hopefully a great lesson for you on what to do next time” you spoke, she smiled widely back at you when you walked towards your chair, picking up your clothes from the floor “Well done everyone, I think we all need a break and we’ll continue with fresh eyes tomorrow” a relieved cheer was heard “I’m off to have a shower, since I have become a Picasso art piece” you started walking towards the dressing room

“Worth millions” Ari spoke after you, you raised your middle finger at him without looking back at him. His loud laughter filled the room.

 -----------------------------

You walked out of the building, rolling your eyes at Ari as he leaned against your car, one leg propped up on the tire, his arms folded and a cocky grin beaming back at you.

“There she is, my million dollar star” Ari clapped his hands before raising up his arms slightly and bowing down “I bless the ground you walk on peaches”

“Oh shut it Ari” you felt your cheeks burn, embarrassment bubbling underneath your skin. It was ridiculous, but you felt a little insecure “Hopefully good enough for what I want to get done” you continued walking towards the car, halting in front of Ari. 

“Hopefully?” Ari raised an eyebrow “Peaches you were wonderful, you are in my top 3 ‘the best fucking sex I ever had’ so I guess for a retired pornstar you still possess your magic” you shoved him a little and his head fell back letting out a laugh “Don’t be embarrassed, I liked it a lot” his hands found their way on your waist pulling you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you Ari, but can you move out of the way, I want to go home, I am little worn out” “Must be because of my majestic cock” he laughed

“Don’t flatter yourself, it doesn’t suit you” you giggled “Why are you still here, I thought you left a while ago”

“Couldn’t stay away from you peaches, since you performed so well today” Ari wiggled his eyebrows

“Had to show you guys somehow, you were costing me a fortune” you pointed out, opening the car door, tossing your bag on the backseat.

“Would it make a difference if it was done on purpose?” Ari questioned, climbing into the driver’s seat. Your mouth had fallen open from the shock and your brain scrambled for words and phrases to throw Ari’s way. You opened the door on the passenger’s side and got into the seat.

“Are you telling me you put on an entire show so you could get your dick wet on the clock?”

“Had to fuck the brat right out of you somehow” his cocky grin beamed back at you. You knew he was taunting you if it wasn’t for his sunglasses shielding his eyes “You have always been such a perfectionist, so I knew you would fall for my well thought out trap”

“Well next time ask me to eat a snickers instead” you rolled your eyes as Ari started the car.

“Might need another round of fucking the brat out of you peaches” Ari grabbed your hand, pulling the intertwined hold to his lips and placing a kiss on top. Your cheeks flushed with heat at the thought of how intense your fuck session had been and what kind of ways you both would fuck one another later.

YIKES, that was a true adventure!!!