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#this looks like garbage I can’t believe I thought it was good
thedarkdisgrace · 2 months
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Random thread from twitter I made about Chuuya, who he is, with quotes from Storm Bringer:
“Don’t act like you’re the good guy here, Verlaine. Yeah, this researcher’s a piece of shit, but you’re the one who killed my friends.” Chuuya smacked himself in the chest. “I can feel their lives burning right here inside me and till those flames die down, I can’t just do whatever I want. I’m gonna do what I need to do. That’s who I am.”
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….
“The light in his eyes was determination. It was the powerful brilliance of humankind, something gained only through encounters and partings with other people.”
“You’ve been completely wrong from the very start,” Chuuya spat in disgust. “‘Being born was a mistake’? Sounds like the kind of garbage Dazai would spew, and no way in hell am I ever gonna think the way he does!”
Chuuya being brutally tortured by N only minutes before the above quotes take place but all he cares about is avenging his friends.
Chuuya doesn’t let Verlaine push his views onto him. Chuuya knows who he is & he’ll suffer anything to protect those he cares about & he believes people are *worth it all*.
Also Chuuya sacrificing his last chance to confirm he’s human (which we know he is human by the epilogue) to save the city without even giving it that much thought when even *Dazai* thought it was important to consider. Dazai was willing to sacrifice the city if Chuuya chose to find out if he’s human. But it took Chuuya less than 30 seconds to sacrifice his own wants to activate corruption for the first time & save the city.
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“Right as he had made his way down three steps, he heard a refreshing clank from behind. It sounded like someone had just leaped off a metal plank. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, he looked back in surprise. There was nobody on top of the platform anymore.
After staring in mute amazement for a brief moment, his lips eased into a smile.
‘Show-off.’ ”
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Chuuya also saved the city again in Dead Apple without any real guarantees (aside the skk soulmateism bond and mind reading) that Dazai wasn’t dead & would be able to nullify corruption. But he used corruption and fought that dragon without a second thought to save the city & Dazai yet again.
He’s also the one who saved the ADA initially from the Hunting Dogs (on orders of course but still) and is the only reason Dazai survived Meursault.
Chuuya will always suffer for & sacrifice himself for the people he cares about & the city he wants to protect.
That’s who he is & I love him for that intense passion, love & care. He deserves nothing less than the same care in return. I love Chuuya Nakahara
(Oh, friendly reminder Chuuya was 16 in Storm Bringer when he went through all that 🙃)
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navybrat817 · 5 months
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The man spread. 🤤
(Also the face he's making....)
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(Also, hi! ❤️)
Hi, lovely! You know I couldn't resist doing something for Titan and Starshine for you!
Photogenic
Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You love one of the photos Roxy took of Bucky, but he isn't having it.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, kissing, established relationship, college love, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)
A/N: Another small ficlet for Titan and Starshine.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the lovely @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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If there was one thing your roommate took seriously, it was her photography. It wasn’t just Roxy’s major, but her way of expressing herself. So when she asked for your opinion on the photos she took of Bucky and Steve, you answered as honestly and diplomatically as possible. You selected the ones you thought captured the project’s essence in the best possible way. You also reminded her that you weren’t a photographer, so your word shouldn’t hold a lot of weight.
She disagreed.
“I still don’t get why you asked for help. I don’t have a keen eye the way you do and I can barely take a photo on my phone,” you said, having to look away from one of the images of Bucky that seemed to stare right at you.
Though it was just a picture, it was like he knew you downplayed yourself and was trying to figure out why. He loved reminding you on your off days that you were one of the brightest students on campus. The compliments usually sent a wave of heat through your body, especially because he stated them unprompted and meant every word.
Roxy playfully rolled her eyes. “You know you don’t have to be a photographer to have a good eye. I not only value your opinion as my roommate, but also as Bucky’s girlfriend. You even managed to stay impartial, so give yourself a pat on the back.”
A laugh bubbled up as you nodded in agreement. While you did stare more at Bucky’s photos than Steve’s, your heart racing with each one that Roxy laid out, you choose an even amount between the two. It was only fair.
“Thank you for asking. I’m glad I could help,” you said. It meant a lot that she wanted your opinion on the finalized product,
“Me, too. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me to throw Steve’s photos in the garbage,” she joked, carefully looking over one of the images of him hitting a punching bag. “I’m impressed.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, Steve’s just as photogenic as Bucky,” you pointed out as her eyebrows shot up. “Okay, almost as photogenic.”
Steve was admittedly one of the most gorgeous men on campus. The blonde haired, blue eyed Adonis with the kind yet almost reserved smile turned many heads. So did Bucky. Two men who looked like a couple of heartbreakers from a glance, but were far from it.
“The camera really does love them,” Roxy stated, chewing her bottom lip as she scanned the images again with a careful eye. After a moment, she smiled from ear-to-ear. “I am so getting an A.”
“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. And the fact that she had such a tough time choosing which images to share when she normally had no problem doing so showed just how many good ones she had at her disposal.
There was one shot of Bucky, however, that she had no problem removing from the film hanger and handing to you to keep for yourself.
He had his powerful thighs spread and wasn’t quite biting his lip, but there was something irresistibly sexy about the pose.
What were you thinking about, Titan?
“Not that I don’t love me some manspreading, because I do, that wasn’t exactly the look that I was going for,” she joked, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you smile so wide your cheeks ached. “What exactly did you say to get him to pose like that?”
“Me? I didn’t say anything,” you smiled, ignoring Roxy’s knowing look as you glanced through the rest of the photos once more. At least, you didn’t think you said anything.
She didn’t believe that for a second. “You act so innocent, yet weren’t you warming his cock when he-”
“Hey, weren’t there supposed to be some photos of Bucky and I together?” You casually cut her off as you pressed your thighs together, wishing your boyfriend was there at that moment.
When Bucky pulled you into his lap during the shoot, you tried to keep your hands to yourself. It didn’t stop the two of you from kissing when Roxy instructed you to. Not that you needed any additional prompting. Bucky had the most kissable lips you ever had the pleasure of feeling against your own.
Your roommate smirked a little. “Oh, I have those tucked away so I can give them to you together,��� she said, nudging you toward the door when your phone went off. She must’ve spotted that “Titan” popped up on the screen. “Go. Thanks again. Make good choices. Don’t let him impregnate you, but let him give you all the orgasms you deserve. We’ll allow those.”
“You’re ridiculous in the best way,” you giggled, making sure you had your keys and the photo. While neither you nor Bucky were ready for a family, it didn’t embarrass you in the least that Roxy encouraged the physical side of your relationship with him.
“Don’t forget to show him that photo!”
“I won’t forget!” you promised, smiling as you left and read Bucky’s message.
“Waiting downstairs, Starshine.”
“Be right there,” you messaged back, a skip in your step as you went to greet him outside of your building.
You found yourself staring into the depth of Bucky’s steel eyes as he stood a few feet in front of the door. Tall, athletic, and somehow yours, he managed to stand out in his jeans and t-shirt. Or maybe he stood out to you because he was your guy.
“There she is,” he warmly smiled as you walked toward him.
Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about your casual outfit before you remembered there was no need. Bucky had seen you in the mornings without makeup and still called you beautiful. “Here I am,” you smiled.
He nodded toward your right hand. “What’s that?”
“One of the photos Roxy took. She has others to share with us later,” you answered, holding it up to show him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at it, but gave nothing else away to show if he liked it or not. “But she said I can keep this.”
He pushed a hand back through his hair before he tried to take it from your hand. “Burn it,” he ordered.
That wasn’t the reaction you expected and it made you giggle. “Burn it? I will do no such thing,” you said, moving backward as he advanced on you. “Why should I get rid of this?”
“Because it’s a terrible picture of me,” he huffed.
He’s adorable.
“Not to stroke your ego since you’re acting a little vain, but you’re extremely photogenic. I don’t think you can take a bad photo,” you told him, taking another step back. “I’m keeping this forever because it’s very alluring.”
“There are plenty of other photos you can keep,” he argued as you held the picture out of reach again. His nostrils flared and it took everything in you not to giggle again before he frowned. “Did you say I look alluring?”
Wait, does he really think he looks bad? He’s James Buchanan Barnes. A god among men.
“Bucky Barnes, my Titan, yes. You’re sexy and enticing and I never thought I’d see you worked up over a picture that isn't bad to begin with,” you teased, almost jumping when your back hit the building door. It gave him the perfect opportunity to box you in with his hands, a rush of heat going through your body as he brought his face close to yours. “Do you honestly think you look bad? Because you don’t. Not to me.”
He brought his hand over to cradle your cheek and leaned in until his forehead touched yours. “I just wanna look good for you,” he admitted in a small voice.
It was almost embarrassing how wide your eyes got, so used to his confidence that you forgot that he sometimes had off days, too. Your heart ached to see his self-assurance shake for even a moment and you wondered if it was how he felt when you spoke negatively about yourself. It put things in perspective when you thought of it like that.
“You do. You always look good. I’m more attracted to you every day. To your looks, your brain, and your heart. You’re incredible,” you assured him, in no hurry to move away from the door. “And just like you remind me of how incredible you think I am, I’ll do the same for you.”
“You think my brain is attractive?” He asked, his usual smile back on his face as you nodded. You knew that was how happy you looked when he chased any of your insecurities away. “I sounded crazy, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn't," you said, putting a hand over his. "You sounded human."
“Thank you for making me feel better,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours as your heart pounded. “But I still think you should burn it.”
“Not a chance,” you smiled before his mouth covered yours.
Swept up in Bucky’s kiss, you both missed the fact that your TA was mere feet away, watching and wishing that it was him that you were kissing instead.
And if he has his way, you will.
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Hmm. I wonder who the TA is. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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naturesapphic · 4 months
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Jade West x Fem reader:
R and Jade being gfs, not really keeping it a secret but no one seems to ever notice until the one time R walks up to the group late for lunch since she had to practice a song for a class, Jade has R’s lunch and everything and R gives her a kiss in gratitude like any gf would. Only to be bombarded with questions. Them both being like: we didn’t exactly keep it a secret. Everyone disagreeing which leads to them both pointing out every time they did PDA infront of the group. Them saying they never noticed and R smirking at jade with the ‘I wonder what else they wouldn’t notice’ smirk as she starts to rub Jade’s thigh😭
Jade blushing and Tori pointing it out but before Jade speaks R does. “Tori if you don’t shut up I can show you all the ways i can hurt you using only mg index finger” Eveyone is shocked except Jade bc she knows R is only mean when someone really pisses her off or is rude/pisses off jade and makes her uncomfortable (which Tori did)
Everyone thinking back to moments R would be mean and realising it was only ever bc it would be jade related
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Oblivious
Jade west x fem!reader
Warnings: cussing and fluff :)
“Hey babygirl. Sorry I’m late. I was finishing up on my song I was working on and didn’t see the clock.” You breathed out as you ran from your class to outside to get lunch. “No problem princess. Here I got you your favorite with your favorite soda.” Jade said with a small smile on her face that she only reserves for you. “Thank you baby.” You said as you slide in beside her on the bench and kiss her gratefully on her lips.
“Wait what?” Tori exclaimed as did everyone else. “How did this happen?” “That’s hot.” “Shut up Rex!” “Awwww y’all are so cute!!!” “As long as y’all are happy.” Everyone stated and Jade rolled her eyes at them. “We didn’t exactly keep it a secret guys.” You said confused but enthralled with how they were acting. “Bro ain’t no way we would miss some lesbian action.” Rex said and Jade angrily grabbed Rex from Robbie and tore his head off and threw it in the garbage. “Rex!” Robbie yelled out as he went head first into the trash can. Everyone just looked at Jade shocked but continued on because what Rex said was weird as fuck.
“I mean…Rex was kinda right. How would we have missed it?” Andre said and you rolled your eyes this time and Jade smirked over at you. “Well remember at the full moon jam and jade glared and made comments at anyone who was near me or looked at me?” You explained and they still didn’t look as convinced. “Well maybe it’s because jades such a good friend!” Cat exclaimed happily and you gave her a smile. “Well she is my best friend so I’ll give you that but has she ever done that with y’all?” You said to everyone and they all shook their heads besides Beck but jade and beck had a decent breakup and decided to just stay friends.
“And how we always hold hands when we are together.” You said. “Well we thought that y’all were really close and Jade had a soft spot for you.” Tori said and you thought of more reasons to convince them. “And! When jade literally grabbed my face and kissed me in front of a boy when he kept trying to ask me out and she said “mine!” And the boy scurried off.” You said and everyone said “ohhhh”. “I thought jade was being nice!” Cat said and everyone started laughing and Jade gave everyone glares. “I can be nice! Only to y/n though…and sometimes cat.” Jade admitted and you giggled at her. “Fuck y’all.” Jade said and you smirked at her. “You only need to fuck me.” You said and Jade blushed a little and hid her cheeks by putting both of her hands on them.
“Okay ew we didn’t need to know that.” Robbie said as he came back from receiving Rex “shut the fuck up robbie.” Jade replied and you held back a laugh. “I can’t believe we never noticed that y’all did any pda, let alone dating.” Beck said and you smirked at Jade “I wonder what else they wouldn’t notice.” As you started rubbing jaded thigh under the table and Jade started blushing again. Of course Tori took notice and decided to open her big mouth. “Why Jade blushing so much? What are y’all doing?” Tori said and before Jade could mutter a word you jumped to it. “Tori if you don’t shut up I can show you all the ways I can hurt you only using my index finger.” You threatened her and everyone just looked at you with wide eyes.
“Damn y/n didn’t think you had it in you.” Beck said shocked at your comment and everyone agreed. “Man…y’all are fucking special and not observant at all. My grandparents probably have a higher iq than all of y’all combined.” You said dumbfounded at their obliviousness. “I’m only mean when someone makes Jade upset and uncomfortable. Which Tori clearly did.” You said as you gave Tori a deadly death stare which made her shift in her seat. “Ohhhhh is that why you kicked that guy in his balls when he tore up jades poster she made for one of her plays?” Cat asked you and you giggled nodding. “Yeah she did.” Jade said proudly and put her arm around you.
“and that one time where she punched a girl in the face for making fun of Jade behind her back?” Andre said asked and you nodded. “Yup. I sure did. She got what she deserved. No one talks about my girl like that behind her back.” You said and Jade gives you a loving smile. “Damn…it definitely makes sense now. With how y/n and Jade always protect each other and are so touchy.” Tori said as everyone nodded in agreement. “Can I watch y’all kiss sometime?” Rex said and this time you got Rex and threw him somewhere as Robbie ran to go get him. “That’s my girl.” Jade said proudly as everyone smiled at the both of you together.
A/n: I hope @karsonromanoff likes it and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! And happy new year!
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winchester-reload · 2 years
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Pairing: Dean/Cas
Tags: hurt/comfort, canon divergent, idiots in love
Read on AO3
All right, we’re officially outta gauze. We talkin’ about it?”
Cas sighed. His eyes swam along the ceiling, just as they’d been doing the entire evening. Through every stitch and wrap, he wouldn’t bring ’em down. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said quietly. “It was just bad luck.”
“Uh uh. This ain’t bad luck. Bad luck is what Sammy’s gonna have if I lose you messy on a bad hunt. So how bout you go ahead and try that for me again.”
“It was just supposed to be one mimic—”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation— You know better than that!”
“Things happen, Dean. Things outside of our control. This was that. Things happened. It was a bad lead, but I made it out. That’s what should matter right now.”
Dean shook his head, tossed an empty gauze roll, now just a cardboard skeleton, and watched it clatter against the tin garbage can. Roll away. Tip and settle on its side near the door. It felt like it’d wobbled into his gut. He fussed at a frayed string along the fresh wrap at Cas’ chest, red already weeping through the cotton. He waited. When Cas still didn’t look at him, he sloughed the whole nurse routine and slid gentle fingertips up the bruises on his neck. Kissed the rough turn of his jaw as he planted a knee on the bed and stretched over him, careful of where he put his weight. Stopping only as Cas reluctantly caught his eye. “Yeah, it does matter,” Dean agreed. “Which is why you can’t just rip your grace out and run, balls out, toward the first hunt you find. I don’t care how good you are. You shoulda told me. Or you should’ve at least told Sam.”
“I did tell Sam—“
“Before it was a 9-1-1, Cas! Okay? Before! That wasn’t okay, and I’m pissed at you for it!”
Tears cropped up in Cas’ eyes, the deep frown in his brow waning to worry. “I know,” he relented. “I’m pissed at me too. It was stupid.”
“It was stupid—damn stupid.” Dean felt it go, the little water balloon of emotions in his chest that used to have brick sides and no air holes. It was exposed now, popped easily with Cas’ pins. “I can’t lose you, you understand? Not again. I don’t think I could come back from it.” Tears ate down his face, and Cas urgently chased them, trying to thumb them away. Like the whole world would fall with them if they got down too far.
“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, exhaustion, maybe pain, finally winning out in his stubborn body. Or maybe he just couldn’t handle seeing Dean raw. Maybe that’s what shattered him every damn time. “It was just supposed to be one Mimic. Just one Mimic.” His own tears escaped, rolled through his temples into his hair, then onto the soft pillow behind his head, and Dean suddenly felt compelled to stop those too.
“All right, that’s enough.” He kissed Cas’ cheek, the wet trail at his temple. Dragging the tip of his nose gently alongside Cas’ again, where it belonged. It was easy sometimes to forget he was a warrior. A real one, not like Dean. He was Heaven-forged and army-trained. At one time, he was the leader of his own battalion. An angel strong enough to crack God’s hold and receptive enough to learn to love. Wise enough to understand the weight of both. And all of that was tucked into a fragile human now, healing beneath the sheets of Dean’s bed. A thought that made Dean feel unbelievably tiny and incomparably huge.
“We’re okay,” he said as he kissed Cas' mouth. Then, “You’re okay now,” because that seemed even more important. A smile finally broke away from him, running wild against the heat on Cas’ skin. “I can’t believe you got all seven vamps on your own, you showoff.”
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suzdin · 4 months
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Washed Up Has-Been: a Dieter Bravo one shot
Dieter Bravo x F!Plus Size!Reader
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Warnings: soft!Dieter, sweet!Dieter, smut, angst, bodily insecurities, reader is plus sized but no other physical attributes are described, Dieter is a little chubby as well, mentions of drugs and alcohol, oral (m receiving), mention of sex toys, fluff? (gasp!), did I forget anything? I know next to nothing about the film industry, don’t judge me :(
Word Count: 2,800
Enjoy and feel free to reblog and comment if you wish! 💜🙂
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Dieter Bravo had not been the same since Cliff Beasts 6.
What did they call it? Losing your spark? Your mojo? Your moxy? Whatever it was called, he’d lost it, along with his marbles… if he ever had any to begin with, and he was sure many would agree he hadn’t.
The reviews were bad, abhorrent, really. ‘Dieter Bravo as Gio Ricci baffling’, ‘Bravo couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag’, ‘I can’t believe this man has an Oscar’, ‘Did he get his Italian accent at an Olive Garden?’, on and on the critics wailed and lambasted.
He’d had a mental break shortly after the premier, firing everyone he could in his vicinity — his publicist, his hair stylist and manicurist, hell, even his agent of twenty five years. He’d hired a new one, of course, a potential script FedExed to his door that morning, fist curled and white knuckled in anger around the thick stack of papers as he perched himself like a sentient gargoyle on his couch, in the tattered clothes he’d been wearing for nearly a week.
A dad. They wanted him to play a fucking dad, some sort of buddy comedy family film opposite Dwayne Johnson, it might be a good move for your career, buddy, his agent had explained. But seriously, him? Hollywood heart throb Dieter Bravo, reduced to playing someone’s bumbling father, opposite THE FUCKING ROCK?
He couldn’t believe it.
He had put on some weight since his last film, sure, but that was no reason or excuse to allow himself to be typecasted as a dad.
Or was it the ever persistent graying in his hair and beard? The laugh lines? The crow’s feet?
‘Dieter Bravo is a washed up has-been’ the internet screamed at him daily, leading him to drown himself in an endless stream of drugs and alcohol…more so than he was already doing, anyway.
He was barely a functioning person. A husk of his former self, he could no longer get it up, unsure whether to blame the drugs or his steadily fleeting mental health, and even putting brush to canvas felt more like a chore than an escape nowadays. He’d become a hermit in his own home, the ghastly, aging 1970s mid-century horror he resided in the Hollywood Hills, that he thought was amazing when he originally bought it a decade ago.
Well, much like him, older things fall apart, and the house was a piece of shit, which was apt.
He had hired you as his assistant and he was so vague as to what that entailed that you were sort of a jack of all trades as far as helping was concerned, acting as his maid, his cook, the middle man to screen his calls, his emails, so on and so forth. Hell, you even took care of the large python he’d bought ‘because it looked cool’, that he was now too scared to touch, himself.
You did it all, and although he never properly expressed as much, he was more grateful for you than he let on.
He always found you pretty, too. Beautiful, even, and not in the fake way he’d grown used to, living in Hollywood. You were kind, sweet, and uncorrupted by a crueler world, always happy and eager to assist him with whatever he needed.
And if he was being honest with himself, the thought of you sheathed around his cock was the only thing that could even get him half hard anymore.
When you arrive for the day, you find him on his couch, glowering at what you can only assume is another bad script, graying hair disheveled and curling away from his skull, teeth gritted in disdain. A look you had come to recognize and were more than familiar with.
“Let me take that to the garbage for you,” you offer, as you normally do in these situations, stepping forward to reach for the offending script.
His eyes clock the way your breasts sway when you walk, the roundness of your belly, the plushness of your arms. He can’t help but stare; he wants to bury himself in you and stay there forever.
He swallows, moving the script away from your extended hand and tucking it behind a cushion, distracted by your body.
“No — no, it’s okay,” he replies and his voice feels like gravel in his throat, realizing he hasn’t spoken all day until now.
Although the script sucks and he doesn’t want to do it, he needs the money. “Thanks.”
You notice his eyes on you and you sit, leaving about a foot of space between you to maintain a modicum of professionalism, observing the sadness behind his dark brown eyes and knowing this has been the norm for several months now but still hating it for what it is.
“What’s on the docket for today?” you ask him and he shrugs, unhelpfully, his lips pulled into a frown, shadows staining the lines of his face. You haven’t seen him this bad in a while.
“I can… make you some hot tea?” you ask, looking down at the schedule in your lap, of which nothing is jotted down for the day.
He shakes his head, carding a hand through his hair. “No. I’m out of tea.”
You chew your lip. “Okay… well, then I guess I’m running to the store today. I have a list already, but can you think of anything else?”
Once again, he shakes his head. “No. I’ll just order it or something.”
You frown and tuck the schedule away, crossing your legs and turning to face him, contemplative.
“Then what do you want me to do today? You’re paying me to be here,” you note. “Unless you’d rather I go home.”
“No!” he damn near shouts, making you jump, and he immediately regrets his lack of impulse control. His gaze traverses your subtle cleavage and you clear your throat, heat warming your skin. “Sorry, it’s just… I don’t want to be alone right now. Can we just hang out?” he queries.
“Dieter, are you okay?” you question and he shakes his head in response.
“No.” A single word that says so much more than that. It pulls at your heart strings, seeing him like this. “I — I’m a nobody.”
“You aren’t a nobody, you’re Oscar winner Dieter fucking Bravo,” you counter, and he snorts, picking at some dry skin on his ankle.
“Yeah, Dieter fucking Bravo, the aging has-been who can’t act his way out of a paper bag,” he snorts.
“If you keep talking like that, I’m going to take away your internet access so you can’t read all the mean tweets about yourself,” you threaten.
“You wouldn’t.”
“One call to your financial advisor and I would and could,” you retort and Dieter scoffs, trying to remember if he’d fired him yet or not.
You cross your arms and flop back against the worn and flattened couch cushions, eyeing him smugly.
The movement pushes your chest up and out, his gaze on you once again and he isn’t subtle about it this time. You clear your throat and stir, staring back at his soft, plush lips.
“Dieter—“
“Come here,” he murmurs quietly and the spontaneity of it catches you off guard, your jaw hanging agape in disbelief and confusion.
“…What?”
It had been months since anyone had touched him, had wanted to touch him, and now, as he stares at your body and smells your light vanilla perfume, after the shitty week he’s had, he needs to be touched, even if only briefly.
“Come… here,” he repeats, more dogged than before, and in spite of yourself, despite how unprofessional it is, you find yourself scooting forward.
He grabs your hips when you’re within reach and drags you the rest of the way, pulling the cushion partially off the couch in the process, a small yelp of surprise escaping your lungs as he softly grips your face to bring his lips to yours.
They’re plush, dry, lightly chapped and he tastes a little like whiskey and weed, but you don’t really mind, his coarse, wiry mustache scratching and tickling against your nose.
Suddenly, with a soft groan in the back of his throat, his hand is under your shirt, cupping your breast, and you break the kiss, looking down to where his arm disappears beneath the fabric, shock settling over your features.
“Dee… are you… are you sure?” you ask. You don’t exactly look like the people Dieter had been confirmed dating in the past, and you feel a wave of trepidation, your self conscious nature bubbling to the surface. You’ve always felt Dieter Bravo was more than a little out of your league.
Not that you’re dating him, but, you know.
“I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sure,” he tuts and kisses you again, rougher this time, palming your breast, making your cunt throb.
He groans. You’re so good to him, always taking such good care of him, and you feel exactly the way he thought you would, warm and luscious and supple, his dick already fighting with the seam of his pajama pants, the first time in weeks.
And you’ve wanted this, too, as long as you’ve worked for him, never confessing your feelings for fear of losing your job. You never imagined Dieter fucking Bravo would feel the same way about you.
You know Dee needs this, you need this, and you want to make him feel good.
You brush a hand over his hardening cock and he damn near bucks himself straight off the couch with a grunt and a sharply uttered, “Fuck” against your lips. You grin into his mouth at how much composure he’s already lost from so few touches.
You pull away after a moment and scoot off the couch, sinking onto your knees in front of him, nestling yourself between his broad thighs.
He watches you, rigid cock tremoring in his pants at the sight, the outline of it clearly visible and straining against the fabric. “You… you don’t have to…” His voice is thick, haggard.
“Let me take care of you, Dee,” you mewl as you nuzzle your face against the squishy paunch of his stomach, lifting his shirt to plant small, reverent kisses in a circle around his belly button. He giggles and flinches at the contact.
“Sorry, sorry — ticklish,” he explains and you smile, placing a few more kisses there, more delicate than the ones that preceded them, trailing a line from his navel to the thick swathe of hair leading to his crotch.
Despite the pounds he’s put on recently, he doesn’t feel at all uncomfortable in front of you, eyes darkening as he drinks you in visually, lips tight and parted, breaths growing deeper in the barrel of his chest.
You look up and from your current perspective, he’s all wild haired and broad shouldered, panting, your cunt clenching with desire as you eye him with a wry grin.
You smooth his shirt down over his belly and move your face to the hard bulge below, nosing the bulk of it through the fabric and inhaling his natural scent, thick and musky and masculine in your nostrils. You both groan in unison.
“Dear god,” he grunts, “I feel like I’m about to— aaaaugh— fucking bust already.”
“Save it for my mouth, at least,” you snip and his head rolls back against the cushion at your words, the one with the sag in the middle where his neck always rests, eyes sliding shut.
“You’re so good for me,” he pants softly, already so close to falling apart, “I take you for granted and I’m sorry.”
“Dieter, shh.” You find the stretchy waistband of his striped trousers and drag them down his hips, not all surprised to see he’s gone commando, cock springing free from the cage of fabric, uncut and dribbling against the drag of soft cotton. He’s girthy, and you’ve never seen one intact in the flesh before — literally — a small puff of air escaping your lips, taking in the sight of him for a few seconds before coming to your senses.
“Is everything alr—“ he starts to ask, cutting himself off when you unexpectedly cup his heavy balls in your palm and lick a slow stripe up his length with the flat of your tongue, his hips quivering and bucking involuntarily. “Shit—“
You grin, humming satisfactorily to yourself and continue to tease him, his hands finding your hair, fingers twisting at the roots as the rings he insists on wearing get caught in the strands, pulling ever so slightly. You moan.
You feel incredible, your tongue working his most sensitive areas, and he’s having a hard time holding it together, torso heaving above you, tiny whimpers departing his lips, and he hasn’t even entered your mouth yet.
You sense how much trouble he’s having at keeping himself in check, so you back off a touch to give him a momentary reprieve, shifting to kiss along the meat of his inner thighs, nipping at the tiny elephant tattoos etched into his skin as you do so.
He cups one hand on the back of your neck, watching you through half-lidded eyes, your lips like pure velvet and heaven.
He’s already forgotten about the shitty script tucked into the couch, about the bad reviews and the critics with their cruel, baseless quips. Faded away to nothingness, akin to what he experiences when he’s completely blitzed, negative thoughts dissolving to the back of his mind to be discarded, and for now, for the moment, the only thing that matters is you, your beauty, and how well you take care of him.
After what seems like an eternity of small, worshipping, teasing touches to the insides of his thighs and the rim of his belly, your lips return to his cock, lapping at the precum that’s beaded up at the slit before taking him into your mouth, hand fisted at the base as you work him into your throat.
He’s impervious at this point to keep his hips flush against the couch, shuddering into your mouth as you take him and pushing further down your throat, not entirely on purpose, moaning as the wet heat of your mouth engulfs him.
“Wanna— fuck your pussy next time— with a vibrating plug in your ass,” he grunts, hardly able to string a single cohesive thought together, making your cunt throb and slick leak into the cradle of your panties.
Dieter wasn’t one to shy away from toys, and in fact had an entire drawer full of them, which you had accidentally stumbled upon one day when putting away some of his clothes; everything from butt plugs to cock rings to flesh lights with multiple attachments and bondage gear.
You steady his hips with your hands and hold him in place as best you can, difficult with how much stronger he is than you, jaw stretching to fit him, the musky tang of him flooding your tastebuds.
You steadily rock your head up and down his length, taking him all the way to the back of your throat, and you can feel the veins running the length of his shaft pulsating against your tongue, feel the way his balls tighten as he edges ever closer to the precipice.
He’s wanted you, needed you, for so long, that he can’t contain himself much longer. His hips begin to stutter and you feel his body growing taut, hear his breaths growing shallow and haggard, fingers curling against your scalp.
“I’m… I’m gonna… fucking cum,” he grunts deep in his chest. That’s all the warning he allows before his hips stall and he lets out a visceral growl of pleasure, spilling a hot and heavy load across your tongue, some of it seeping out at the edges and dribbling down his thighs until you’re able to steady yourself.
You hold him in your mouth until you feel the very last drop hit the back of your throat, slowly pulling off only when you feel him starting to go soft.
“You should really clean up this awful mess you’ve made,” Dieter taunts when you sit back to catch your breath, watching the cocktail of spend and saliva slide down his tan skin.
You grin and tip your head forward to obediently lap at the escaped fluids. He groans as he savors the delicious sight of you, affectionately brushing his fingers through your hair as you do so.
After a moment, you rise from the ground, your knees cracking from the exertion, joining him on the couch as he tugs his pajama bottoms back up his hips.
He snakes an arm around the small of your back and kisses you, deep and full, moaning when he tastes remnants of himself on your tongue.
He grins against your lips and then rises, yanking you off the couch and giggling along with you when you pass him a perplexed look.
“Where are we going now?” you ask, pleased to see him happy and relaxed again after all this time, to actually see him smiling.
“You took care of me, so I’m going to take care of you. You’re familiar with my special drawer, aren’t you?”
FIN. xx
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blacktacmopsi · 18 days
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Hanging Fire: Part 2.
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| Hesh X Female! Reader X Keegan | Smut (MDNI) | CW: Oral Sex, DP, General Smut |
The second installment of this too long piece of pure smut. God, the last time I wrote something this long it was... like...back in 2020 or something? Idk. So yeah, Hesh, Keegan, and you are still stuck in the outpost shack and now things are getting heated up, but far from over. This hot piece of porn garbage is spilling over into a part 3. I'll upload it all together in one piece on my AO3 though once I'm done.
Authors note: I didn't really proof read this and again, so sorry it's turning out so long. Request tags for @soapsgf @mudisgranapat
< Hanging Fire: Part 1 Hanging Fire: Part 3 >
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You exhaled a breath you were unaware you were even holding. Though your logic told you this was an awful idea, your desires were screaming at you. You liked these two men, A LOT, and here they are agreeing to sex. How could you not pass this up?
“Fine, okay then,” you speak. A slight smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as even you yourself can't believe what your saying.
As soon as you agreed, Hesh wasted no time and moved in to give you one of the deepest kisses you’ve ever had in your life. As soon as his lips touched yours, all doubt about this idea being horrible vanished in an instant. Replacing it was total desire and that deep need for physical touch. God, how long had it been since you were kissed, let alone got a good one at that? How long had it been since you were even touched? It didn’t matter anymore. All that was about to change in a matter of seconds. Hesh’s lips were so soft, and his kiss was reminiscent of a wildfire-  ravaging, strong, and all consuming. Who would have thought that this man you’ve seen shoot and stab others could be capable of such passion and desire?
Perhaps sex & death really did go together.
Hesh too was feeling the intensity build. He himself had gone so long without physicality from another woman for what felt like a lifetime. His body had known no comfort since before ODIN struck and ever since then, his hand and imagination were his only consistent companions.
“Oh god…need to reign it in…don’t want to cum from just a kiss…” he thought to himself. Breaking the kiss off, he pulled back to look at you, noting your now flushed pallor. He too was blushed and he hadn’t even removed a single layer of clothing yet. Caressing your cheek, he meets your gaze.
“Goddam, what a great kiss,” he pants as he looks at you. Hesh really wants more. His body is screaming bloody murder at him for more. He can’t ignore what has been so longed for, not while he has already tasted your lips...and oh, how they were just divine!
“Fuck it,” he leans in and begins kissing you furiously, as if the survival of you three depended on it. As his tongue forces its way into your mouth, he’s violently ripping off his plate carrier, shirt , and anything else that gets in the way of his chest pressing against your bare breasts. You yourself begin doing the same, urged on by his own blazing passions. The cry of your flesh for his is too strong and your clothing seems likes such a hindrance. You didn’t care that you haphazardly tossed them to the dirty floor covered in god-knows-what. You didn’t care that neither of you had showered for days and were grimy and sweaty. None of that mattered. All that did matter was that primordial need to be fulfilled. That itch of mother nature to be scratched…and oh, was it going to get scratched by the two men who got your pulse racing and your clit twitching. You could feel it burning deep between your legs as that familiar flood of heat and slickness makes itself apparent to you.
While you and Hesh were becoming a flurry of hands, skin, and lips, Keegan, ever so silently, observed. He too was feeling that blaze of need and passion ignited by you and Hesh. He shifted his stance as his cock began to stiffen at the sights and sounds coming from your mouths and bodies. It was only when Hesh nipped at your neck causing you to moan significantly, that any fragment of control Keegan had left, shattered like a crystal wine glass. He began to remove his tactical vest and shirt, tossing them aside too, not caring about where they landed. All he could care about was needing you, needing to feel the heat of your breath, the touch of your skin, your very taste. Moving over to where Hesh and you were, Keegan now joined the maelstrom of unbridled desire and lust.
Sitting on the dingy cot, Keegan pulled you onto his lap while Hesh fell to his knees before you. His fingers frantically worked the belt, button, and zipper of your pants, yanking them off, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
"Hold her legs open for me man," Hesh whispered.
Keegan nodded and slid his bare hands between your thighs, forcing them open to reveal your aching pussy.
"God...you have no idea how long I've wanted this," he groans as he moves forward, gingerly touching your soft folds. His fingers carefully explored and brushed up against your swollen clit causing you to whimper. Keegan and Hesh both took note of that, and Hesh decided to up the lust ante further.  Dragging his tongue along your slick slit, you seized up on Keegan’s lap, gripping his thighs tightly as the shock of ecstasy washed over every fiber of your being. Hesh wasted no time getting what he’s been wanting. The heat of his breath on you causes you to gasp as another jolt of much needed pleasure surges through your body. Keegan can't help but look down, watching his younger team member in action. In doing so, he feels his cock harden further and begin to weep with his own need causing a deep moan to escape his throat. He isn’t going to be able to just sit with you on his lap much longer.
"How's she?" he asks, drawing in a deep breath.
"Like heaven man, like heaven."
Hesh keeps lapping at your aching cunt, burying his face in your core. His tongue teased your wanting entrance, and he took your swelling clit between his lips to suck lightly. As his mouth was busy, Hesh began to unfasten his belt and unzip his pants. His own cock began to strain against the fabric seeking much needed freedom and attention. As he shuffled his pants down a bit, Hesh pulled his boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock, stroking it lazily. He groaned as he kept pleasing your sensitive bit, sucking on it only to release it with an audible 'pop'. Relentlessly, he took it back into his mouth and continued, determined to amplify the whimpers that were already escaping you.
“So good…so damn good,” Hesh muttered as he was face deep in your slickness, too concentrated on savoring you.
"You like when he does that to you, sweetheart? You like how he makes your pussy feel?" Keegan's voice was low and dripping with raw unfiltered lust. Up until now, he had been silent, but that was now gradually changing as he began to speak more and more. He turned his head to whisper in your ear.
"We can both make you feel that good. I know you've thought of us and what it would be like."
His words sent a shiver down your spine and a flood of fantasies in your mind. As Keegan kept voicing his desires, Hesh flicked his hazel eyes up at you from between your thighs, his tongue painting strokes along your folds. Pulling away with a thread of saliva and your wetness stringing between you & his mouth, he stands up and leans forward, towering over you.
"I never knew you tasted that great," he purrs right before he kisses you once again. Keegan's hands snake forward and seek out your slick and swollen pussy, rubbing you & slipping two fingers inside drawing a more impassioned moan from you.
"Damn kid," he chuckles "you got her good and ready."
Hesh looks down at Keegan's fingers sliding in and out.
"Wanna trade places?"
"Oh, fuck yeah!"
Keegan eases you off his lap as Hesh now takes his place. You can feel his stiff cock pressing against you as he begins to grind it against your backside. Keegan, now between your legs wasted no time on picking up where Hesh left off. He spreads you open, raises his mask, and begins to lick at your wetness and sensitive little clit. All the while soft moans escape his throat with every rock of his head and flick of his tongue. For Keegan, it had been way longer than Hesh when it came to entertaining the lusts for the female form. He was definitely not squandering this opportunity in the slightest.
"Oh baby, you like how the Sergeant does that? Is he making you feel nice and good?" Hesh teases as he keeps grinding his hardness against your backside. His hands reach up to start caressing your bare breasts.
"You wanna know how often I fantasized about these tits of yours. What it would be like to hold them...," he squeezes lightly.
“To pinch them…,” he whispers as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.
“To suck on them,” he breaths into your ear.
Your entire body feels like its about to be overloaded just from Hesh’s words, not to mention the way Keegan is on his knees servicing your needy, swollen pussy. You can’t even muster the strength to speak properly even. All you can do is whimper and moan and gasp and sigh… and hope that these two men don’t stop for even a mere second.
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sairitaikutsu · 1 month
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liu kang and april fools
i think lord liu kang should be allowed to be a little silly. as a treat
I just know he and Kung Lao would get into prank wars when they were younger (prev timeline). Not only prank wars, but they’d occasionally pull pranks on other monks as well. Between them, Kung Lao would get caught more often.
Liu Kang ofc grew up and matured over time, especially now that he’s a god and Earthrealm's protector. He reminisces those days sometimes. Great memories.
So when April 1st came around and there was not much to do, he knew he had to take that chance.
Not even Geras could stop him.
He secretly bought whoopee cushions and placed them everywhere. And i mean everywhere. Everyone was complaining about it.
Kenshi pinned the blame on Johnny for the pranks that happened to himself, Raiden, and Kung Lao. He didnt believe Johnny until Johnny himself got pranked. He opened the window and found a garbage bag right outside his window meant to look like there was a person in there.
Liu Kang got that idea from Kung Lao.
Kitana’s telling Raiden about the whoopee cushions in the palace. They can’t go one minute without accidentally sitting on a whoopee cushion. It’s driving Mileena mad.
Anyway, Liu Kang put a fake beetle on the window frame, and Raiden noticed it. He gets closer to poke the beetle, not knowing it’s fake.
Unfortunately for him, the fake beetle is tied to a thin string.
When he poked the beetle, Liu Kang promptly tugged on the string, startling Raiden. In a panic, Kitana threw her fan at the beetle, causing Liu Kang to run away.
At some point, he accidentally started a prank war between Tomas and Syzoth after putting plastic bugs in Tomas’ soup. Kuai Liang and Ashrah were dragged into it. Tomas almost set Syzoth on fire and that’s when the other two had to make them stop.
“Oh look, the consequences of my actions!” - Liu Kang in his thoughts.
Liu Kang accidentally ruined Bi-Han and Sareena’s dinner date with whoopee cushions because he didn’t know. Bi-Han was infuriated and wouldn’t stop until he found the culprit.
Geras tried to stop him again but his next victim was Shang Tsung lmao
He was not spared from the whoopee cushions. While he was out, Liu Kang also moved some furniture and other things slightly but just enough for Shang Tsung to feel like something is Wrong
I like to imagine this is the one time Liu Kang will allow himself to be extra mean so he even wrote a note that said “april fools :)”
“This is not going to work.” *actually works*
After a long day of trolling, he comes back to the fire temple and invites Geras to have a chat over tea.
Geras scolds him (calmly) and he couldn’t believe he had to be the one to tell him off.
So far, Geras was pretty calm about this… until he finally took a sip of his drink.
“This tastes strange… did you put salt in my tea?”
He did. Liu Kang failed to hold back his laughter.
On one hand, good for him for having fun and letting loose, but also this is getting out of hand.
Geras made him apologize to everybody. imagine the shock on their faces when they found out it’s him of all people.
“I won’t do it again 😔” (he’ll do it again 😈)
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mariailoveyou-guerin · 4 months
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Oh he getting uglier and uglier by the day what’s happening he use to be cute but now he looks bad with this haircute and the facial hair oh this means obx4 is being filmed for sure because he only gets worse when he filming that show like he gets worse and worse for each season maybe that’s the point all the bs getting to his character, it makes sense honestly I can see it!
He will never be fine and I need y’all to wake up bc aint no way y’all lying to yourself this much bc u like his psychopath character, he gonna be the new Timothy who was the new Noah I’m afraid I can’t take yet another one!! Truly in his worst era and that’s saying something bc he was horrendous in s3 too wonder what happened to him at one point he was cute and okay looking and now he turning into just not it at all!
Streets saying he’s a method actor so for s5 he’s gonna be walking around like a corpse looking dead because his character will be six feet under love to see it but on a genuinely real level what’s happening to him why he decomposing in front of our eyes something is off fr
Forgot the drew freaks existed for a good minute since I ain’t seen his ass nowhere since obx ended and now it’s all back because they live on this app and on tktk like the true loser freaks they are but what’s worse is they out here making me defend rudy like he ain’t mid himself he just happens to be the 2nd hottest guy on that show sharing it with Nick out of the yt men he’s hottest but the bar was non existent so can’t even give him that win bc it’s not a win if there’s no competition but how dare they make me defend Rudy just he he’s not ugly like drew or below mid like drew but above mid
why they acting like he’s Jacob when he ain’t even Jacob foot in terms of good looks and talent is never coming near his pinky yt psychopath character stans are so weird yet so fascinating to me because they genuinely believe these men are hot bc they like their psychopath characters, I remember Kylo ren stans were ready to die on actual hill saying Adam Driver was hot I just can’t with them never laughed so hard in my life at first I thought they was joking but nope they was dead serious too whenever I remember I laugh so hard my stomach feels like it’s about to fall out, what’s not surprising nor shocking to anyone was they were all divorced hag yt woman and white unloved teens with issues! What a niche type of yt woman/teens who like them these ugly men and why do they all look almost exactly the same somebody needs to study that, there just has to be a study on it why they are always hag pushing 40 white woman or teen girls liking them all because they like their weirdo character a little bit to much and they also like and think real life serial killers are hot and have fan accounts and meme accounts for them sickos for real! may they get help for this illness
I get liking Jacob and thinking his character Nate was hot because the man is hot even tho his character is garbage but liking and thinking drew or Adam driver is hot bc y’all like their weirdo character yeah that’s to far way to far off the sanity 🏊‍♀️! let’s be serious about this
Adam driver attractive hot 😂 funniest shit I have ever heard in my life drew by s5 really gonna look like him to
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askfriskandcompany · 7 months
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Hey, I was thinking about Frisk's father lately. While her mother was terrible, I honestly don't think her father was nearly as bad. He didn't exactly do much, aside from trying to teach Frisk to stand up for herself by beating up a bully. But I think he cares about his children more than the mother does. If you think about it, their almost like Amity's parents. (If you've seen Owl House, you know what I'm talking about)
Do you think there's a possibility that Frisk's father could return and reunite with his children? I'd also think he would ditch the woman who treated them horribly.
Ok so first off, Frisk’s pronouns are they/them.
Second, I would say that the situation with Amity’s parents is wildly different from Frisk’s situation. Not every toxic family situation can be handled the same way.
Amity’s dad eventually stopped being neglectful and stood up for his kids, which is why we look at him as a flawed but ultimately good parent to his kids.
Armando Torres hasn’t yet appeared, so we can’t exactly tell if he’s going to redeem himself or not. But whether he gets to have a relationship with his kids will depend on if he’s willing to admit he hurt them, whether willing to change, AND whether his kids even want to talk to him again after all this. Because Frisk and Aidrian have every right to say “No, I don’t want a relationship with you” and he’ll just have to live with that.
And the exact same stuff is true about Susan Torres. Her crimes aren’t worse than his, only different. Susan actively tore down her kids’ self esteem and treated them with contempt. Armando did the same, but in a more chilly passive way with less yelling and more neglect. Both parents may or may not regret their actions, especially now that they believe Frisk to be dead. But there’s a reason why Frisk fears them and Aidrian hates them.
For those of us who grew up in loving homes, seeing this kind of family can be an uncomfortable experience. Especially when the kids say they don’t want to see their abusive parents again. We think to ourselves “How horrible! Surely reconciliation is the correct path here?” But that thought comes from the fact that we don’t actually understand. Sometimes you need to cut people out of your life. You may even care about those people, or they may care about you even if they suck at showing it. But regardless of that, if you can’t trust them to not treat you like garbage all the time, then the healthiest thing you can do is close that door. Yes it’s sad. Yes it sucks. But that’s life sometimes.
-TQ
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experimentfae · 3 months
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Valentine day special
Hazbin hotel x reader
Oneshot / fluff
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⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Today is the holiday most people love it some hate it or some just don’t care for it plain and simple. Hell you didn’t even think you were going to get anything this holiday.
You were used to wallowing into romance movies and chocolate by yourself but turns out fate had other plans for you, pleasantly surprising plans.
You heard a knock on a door “(y/n) it’s me Charlie I wanted to let you know that you got a package.” This made you raise your brow “I didn’t buy anything.” You got up and opened the door to see Charlie holding your package for you.
“Are you sure it has this address and it says for (y/n).” She then gasped “maybe it’s a secret admirer!” She smiled which made you laughed at the thought “Me getting a valentine?! Ha no way, as to be some prank.” “Who would do that?” Charlie questioned the only demons you could think who would do this is alastor or Angel to fuck around with you.
“I have two demons in mind.” She then shrugged her shoulders “oh but speaking of valentines gifts, this is yours.” She handed you a little heart box that filled with chocolate no doubt “thanks Charlie.” Smiled back “it’s from me and vaggie, we are heading out for a romantic dinner non of you wait up on us.” You nodded “have a good time you two.” “Thanks (y/n) have a great valentine day as well.”
She walked away then you said to yourself “as if I could get a nice one, most of them are mundane for me.” “Wow that sucks.” This made you jump to see Angel dust “Angel you gotta warn a demon when you do that.” This only made him laugh “but it’s funny as hell and besides, what you got there hun.” Huh, ‘hun’ that’s new “I’m not sure I think someone’s messing with me, it’s not you Is it?”
“Nope.” hmmm “are you lying?” This confused him “why the fuck would I need to lie about that?” Actually that’s a good point “fair, alright let’s find out I guess.” You knew he wanted to see so you let the door open knowing he let himself in.
“Hmm gotta clean in here.” You rolled your eyes “I’ll do it later not like anyone else is coming here or Niffty does it.” You opened the box to see a Vox tech item? “Voxtech?” This surprised him as well “weird it’s a Valentine’s Day special one.” That’s true the tech was pink, red and hints of blue on them I instead of the usual black and blue.
Then you noticed that there is a love potion a collaboration between Valentino and Velvette, Angel seemed to notice two and got a angry look on his face “I can’t believe these motherfuckers.” he growled out.
“What do you mean?” You asked he huffed out “just don’t go near them ok?” You nodded your head immediately you’re not gonna question Angel he would know more than anyone how these guys work. “Wait does that- just then alastor interrupted you two by knocking on the open door.
“I know open but I- he stopped himself when he saw the Vox tech in the box “darling I didn’t take you for having poor taste in entertainment.” This made you laugh “naw someone gifted this to me, I thought it was you or Angel but YOU buying Vox tech is impossible even if it is to mess with someone, also the love potion.
Just then alastor halted at the box then he snapped his fingers and the box was gone you assumed he threw it in the garbage “here’s a REAL valentines gift.” Alastor boasted as he brought out flowers and a Heart shaped box but instead of chocolate you saw it was meat a giant meant shaped like a heart.
“Wow thanks alastor I’m surprised you got anyone anything but, did you get that from the cannibal colony?” One thing you knew about yourself is that you’re not a cannibal but alastor was a different story “why yes it is this one meat was a sinner named frank.” This both made you and Angel dust give him a wtf look.
“Um I appreciate the flowers but I think you’ll enjoy the meat more then a I do.” He seems to remember that I’m not a cannibal “right I forgot you don’t enjoy demon meat I’ll give you something else then.” He snapped his fingers again and instead there is a mug with a cheesy valentine dad joke.
“That’s sweet thanks.” You took the flower and mug.” He smiled wider “then Angel interrupted yeah, yeah, here’s your thing hun.” He handed you a pink mouth gag and a pink whip “I… what.” He smirked “well come on you gotta admit it’s perfect for this holiday.” He gave a wink, You continued to look confused while alastor look disgusted.
“Um thank you Angel.” You smiled nervously you put both of their valentines gifts away. “Yep and happy valentine times day.” He smiled and looked back at his phone walking away “happy v-day as well Angel.” “Happy Valentine’s Day my dear.” Spoke alastor “you as well alastor.” You smiled as he left to do whatever he does in his spare time.
You were surprised that anyone thought to get you anything especially alastor what was his end game and you couldn’t but your finger around why Vox, Valentino and velvet would sent you anything never had a conversation with them.
You went out of your room and went into the kitchen planning to get a snack. Maybe some cookies you saw in a jar but before you could grab the treat you felt someone poke your shoulder. You looked over to see sir pentious seeming to be nervous.
“I I umm g… just take it! goodbye!” He slithers away in a hurry “wait sir pentious?!” You looked to see a red box with a black bow “again? How?” You opened to see a projector “wow this is the best one actually, too bad I probably won’t be able to thank him properly.” You looked to see a card with it as well inside, you saw it was a poem painfully romantic one.
“Sir pentious has a thing for me?!” You questioned yourself “wow I what am I gonna- just then a text from your phone interrupted you. You looked to see you got invited to a group chat called 3V, you immediately knew who it was it’s not a hard guess.
You joined just to see why they sent that stuff Velvette:[did you like your gift cutie?] You:[why did you guys give me those?] Val:[Why not baby? Your too hot to not be spoiled] Vox:[exactly, but hoe you loving your new tech?] You:[tbh I firing get to try any of your guys stuff alastor threw them out] Vox:[fucking knew that radioshit would do that know worry I’ll get you another] Val:[no worry baby I’ll get you sex toys this time you’ll able to do more with that] You:[no worry I’ll be fine without those stuff got a working phone already and I don’t want that sex stuff to be honest] Velvette:[at least can I get a trending outfit for you?] You:[alright that seems pretty good thx and happy Valentine’s Day<3]
They also texted you happy Valentine’s Day and you went back to getting your cookie you carried your gift and cookie to the bar, to talk to husk. “Husk there you are, how are you?” He looked towards you “meh as usual.” “Yeah that’s how I felt when I woke up until everyone started to give me gifts, which is weird.”
He looked to see the box you’re holding “guess so but speaking of Valentine’s Day gifts here ya go.” He handed you a gift too?! You took the bag to see it was a favorite color wine glass “wow husk this is nice, you going soft on me?” He glared at you “no just doing what you’re supposed to do for the holiday or whatever.” He blushed looking away “yeah sure.” You smirked.
“I feel like a jerk tho I got nobody anything but everyone got me something.” You stated he shrugged his shoulders “it’s fine what I really want is alone time.” He replied with very little card but your own words gave you an idea.
“I’ll be right back!” You ran back to your room got your wallet, phone and keys and left before husk can say anything back.
3 hours later
You thankfully found gifts for everyone that was in my our budget as well felt like a miracle except for the 3Vs you’re pretty sure they got everything they need, especially Val your not even gonna try for that guy.
You brought each of the gifts to everyone, they all loved it, funny a holiday you never cared for became the same holiday that made you realize how important you are to everyone and how important they are too you as well.
Happy Valentine’s Day <3
<- Back to MasterList or back to hazbin hotel
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Text
Task at Hand
Panda’s Notes: Maybe I'm a little late, but I adored the movie, and, more importantly, I might have fallen for a fictional man. Hobie Brown stole my whole heart. >w< Consider this the first of three.
[Ao3] || [Ko-fi] || [Commissions]
“Oi, short man!”
Miles flinched at the sound of that voice. There was no way.
“Uh, Miles?” His mother called, sounding just a bit nervous.
He scrambled out of his bedroom to find his parents staring warily at a smug looking Spider-Punk leaning against their front door.
“Hobie?” He asked with a hint of panic in his voice as he approached him. “What are you doing here?”
Hobie snickered, patting Miles’ shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Was in the neighborhood, y’know? Thought we could grab grub or somethin’, just cause.”
“Miles…?” His dad stepped closer, resting a slightly firm hand on his shoulder. “Is this guy another friend of yours?”
“Um…” Miles stammered. “Well, yeah, I mean, he’s a friend, just—"
Hobie rolled his eyes with a little grin, standing up straight and offering a hand. “Aye, Hobie Brown, at ya service. Mr. and Mrs. Morales, yeah? Charmed, really. Heard a lot of good things.”
Jefferson accepted the handshake, eyes widening a little at how strong he was for being so thin. Rio was given a handshake as well, though much gentler.
“So, how’d you two meet anyway?” She asked, hands resting casually on her hips.
Miles stood awkwardly in front of Hobie, wringing his hands behind his back as he spoke. “Well, he’s sort of a pen pal, y’know. We mostly talk online; he’s not around much.”
“I’m a friend of Gwenny’s.” Hobie shrugged casually, pulling his guitar up slightly so they could see. “We jam once in a while, but yeah; I ain’t in town very often. Not from ‘round here, but you probably guessed.” He lunged slightly and wrapped his arm across Miles’ chest, resting his chin on his head and sneaking a poke on his ribs. “Little brother here is always on scene with us. Likes to keep us outta trouble, but he ain’t worth much on bass, I tell ya.”
Hobie laughed lightly, and Miles cringed as his mother chuckled. Jefferson still eyed them both, but he was smiling a bit and patted Miles’ arm lightly. The pair watched his parents expectantly, with Miles fidgeting the entire time.
“Alright, alright; go on.” Jefferson finally sighed with a wave of his hand, smirking slightly as he turned away.
“Don’t stay out too late; try to be back for dinner.” Rio insisted, smiling up at Hobie.
Miles finally relaxed, aiming a glare at Hobie before going to his room to grab his backpack.
----------------
“I cannot believe you!” Miles called as he chased Hobie across a few rooftops halfway across town.
“Can’t believe my amazing charisma, you mean, mate?” He called back. “You wouldn’t. You are complete shit at lying. Actual garbage, my guy.”
Miles groaned and rolled his eyes, shifting his bag on his shoulders. “Get back here! Aren’t you the one who wanted to get food? It’s going to get cold!”
Hobie stopped on one building, suddenly whirling around and catching Miles before he could land. He shushed him quietly, smirking as he pulled his mask from his pocket and put it on.
“Over here, bruv, come on.” He leaned over the side of the roof, glancing up and down the street. “I was casing this place earlier when I was headed your way. Spider-sense going somethin’ fierce. Windows are all blacked out; same color, definitely not curtains.”
Miles had pulled his own mask over his head, shrugging his bag off to lean beside him. “Are you telling me the Spider-Punk got me out of the house to work?” He giggled when Hobie elbowed his ribs, crawling up over the edge as the taller man practically shoved him.
“Oi, shut up already. Place skeeved me out, okay? Look for yourself if it seems sketchy. I’m not the one built for stealth, now am I?”
“Okay, okay…” Miles disappeared from view, crawling carefully across the side of the building. Sure enough, the windows did all appear to be completely blacked out. Maybe a mix of duct tape and spray paint? Too thick to see through either way. Great, the one time he feels like he doesn’t have enough powers. He pressed his ear to the window, blinking curiously at the sounds of some kind of machinery. This wasn’t a warehouse or anything; it just looked like a regular, if very old, apartment building.
Miles climbed back up to the roof, finding Hobie fishing French fries out of his backpack. He snickered as he approached him. “Those better not be mine.”
“Bags are the same color, mate; don’t know what ‘tell ya.” He said quickly, licking his fingers and putting the backpack on his shoulder. “What’d you get?”
“Some kind of machine noise? I couldn’t see what it was, but it seemed like a lot of them. Kinda sketchy, I guess. They wouldn’t black out the windows other—”
“Issa sweatshop.” Hobie suddenly spoke through a few more fries, striding quickly across the rooftop. “Betcha a fancy-ass milkshake on it, yeah?”
Miles jogged after him, watching as he stopped beside the building’s transformer. “A sweatshop? You think so?”
“Bet on it, didn’t I?” Hobie prodded around the large box curiously before ramming his elbow into the small service panel. “Look, worst hand: I’m right, crime’s on, and you owe me that milkshake. Plus, we disrupt some exploitative assholes making shitty clothes or whatever. Best hand—” He gripped the edge of the dented panel, ripping it clean off its hinges. “Well, some weirdo junkies won’t have television for a week, maybe. Fry it.”
Miles blinked at the sudden command, looking warily at the cables and lights. “And you think this isn’t going to get me fried?”
“Eh, you’ve done it before, basically.” Hobie shrugged, stepping out of his way. “Didn’t die then.”
Miles rolled his eyes, but he still hesitated a little. Electricity crackled between his fingers as he looked for places to slip them under the cables. He could feel his hands tingling as the electricity jumped between the transformer and his body.
“Nah, nah, nah; you’re holding back again.” Hobie said quickly. “They’ll notice some light flickering; remember what I told you.” He reached over Miles’ head, pressing his own hands over Miles’ to press his palms flat into the transformer.
“Whoa, wai—!” There was a blinding flash and a loud crack, and Miles spun around when he realized Hobie wasn’t pushing him anymore. His knuckles cracked as he flexed his fingers, scrambling over to where Spider-Punk was sprawled on the roof almost ten feet away.
“Hobie?!” He called in a panic, grabbing at his shoulder and shaking him a bit. He felt a few minor shocks jump up his arm, and Hobie coughed as he shifted around. Coughs turned into groans that quickly turned into excited laughter as he pushed himself to sit up.
“Haha! Hell, yeah, my guy; fucking aces!” He cackled, slapping Miles’ chest with the back of his hand and wincing immediately. “Ack, shit, that hurt… Fuck, that was awesome!”
Miles stared at him in disbelief, only able to imagine the look on Hobie’s face. He cringed a little as his Spider-Sense went off, and he realized he could hear boots stomping up a staircase.
“Let’s book, mate, come on!” Hobie was halfway across the roof already, though he almost stumbled on the jump to the next building. Miles stuck close to him as they ran this time.
----------------
“You were worried about this being cold, man?” Hobie chuckled between bites of his sandwich. “You’re too much sometimes, aren’t ya?”
They had returned to Miles’ building, and they’d finally gotten the chance to sit down on a pair of chairs that had been forgotten from the party weeks back.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Hobie?” Miles asked warily, leaning slightly to gently kick his leg. “You were out for a little bit.”
“Nah, I wasn’t.” He said shortly. “Hurt like a bitch, but it didn’t put me out. Trust me, I been hit with worse without the mask on. The healing thing helps out though, gotta admit.”
“Healing thing?”
Hobie snorted, pulling a soda can out of his lunch bag as he looked over at him. “You been a Spider how long, and you never noticed the healing thing, brother? Thinkin’ you just fall off of buildings and live based on goof physics, are ya?”
Miles chuckled and shook his head, rolling his hand as he crossed his legs on the chair. “Yeah, okay; get it all out.”
Hobie chuckled and smirked, shrugging his shoulders as he popped the soda tab with one finger. “Nah, I’m done. What I want to hear about is why you’re still holding yourself back on the electricity thing.”
Miles huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t just go around electrocuting everyone all the time!”
“Yeah, ‘cuz you’re soft.” Hobie reached to slap lightly at Miles’ shoulder and ruffle his hair with one hand, grinning as he swatted him away. “Though, I guess you would be a bit young to get a body count on you.”
Miles hesitated as he judged the weight of what Hobie was saying. And not saying. He stared at his hand for a moment as he set his straw against his lips, his nerves prickling a little as sparks jumped between his fingers.
“Y’know what? You have a point; I admit it.” He finally sighed.
“I’m always right, man; you’ll catch on eventually.” Hobie snorted when a napkin was thrown at his head.
“My skill isn’t in my power output.” Miles shrugged and flexed his hand. “It’s in my control.” He punctuated the statement by jabbing two fingers into Hobie’s side while he was looking away, the smallest amount of electricity he could manage zipping through them.
Hobie flinched hard, his hand clenching sharply enough to crush the top of the soda can and a choked noise jumping out of his mouth.
Miles paused, a smile spreading across his face as he fidgeted with his fingers.
Hobie glared at him, his eyes betrayed by the smirk on his lips, and he shook the soda off of his hand after setting the can down. “Do that again, and I break your arm.”
“Okay, but I can do it again though?”
“If you want a broken ar—Ack! Miles!” His voice was cracked to pieces by barely stifled giggles.
Miles had pressed another little shock to Hobie’s side, spreading his fingers and starting to wiggle them quickly. “You’re ticklish! Oh, my god; you’re, like, really ticklish.” He slipped around Hobie’s chair, digging scribbling fingers across his stomach and up his sides.
Hobie wrapped his arms tight around his waist, laughing loudly and writhing under each little poke. He nearly flinched out of his chair at another zap, hiding his face in one hand as the other shoved at Miles’ shoulder.
“I really can’t believe you.” Miles giggled, finally letting Hobie push him away and leaning into his outstretched arm. “‘Spider-Punk’ and ‘ticklish’ just don’t really go together, y’know?”
Said Spider-Punk panted quietly, and his hand got a tight grip on Miles’ jacket. “‘S pretty rude to go off stereotyping people, innit, man?” He asked calmly, slowly getting out of his chair and yanking Miles by his coat to follow him. Miles stammered nervously, and Hobie smirked a bit before shooting a bit of web onto the underside of the water silo’s roof and pulling both of them up.
Hobie landed his free hand against the side of the water tank, pressing his boots alongside it to sit in a sideways crouch. Finally, he sneered at Miles, still holding him at arm’s length in open air. “Think this is high enough, little brother?”
“W-Wait, what?” Miles’ face was torn between laughing and panicking. “Hobie, you can’t be serious; I was just messing with you!”
“Nah, you’re right; I’d have to chuck ya off the roof, at least.” He jerked his arm as if he was going to drop him, but his fingers tightened their grip on his coat.
“Hobie!” Miles laughed as he grabbed Hobie’s arm.
“Miles?!”
Both of them froze, eyes shifting to the roof access door where Rio had suddenly appeared. Hobie’s grip loosened, and Miles crawled up Hobie’s arm and shoulder, sort of perching on his back as they both stared at her.
“Ey, boss.” Hobie called casually, saluting politely with two fingers.
“Hi, mami…” Miles called a bit sheepishly, and she rested her palm over her face.
Miles cringed nervously, but not nervously enough to resist sneaking a poke under Hobie’s arm. The soul-withering glare Hobie gave him seemed to make him feel better.
“If you’re out thinkin’ I won’t kill a man in front of his mother, you’re off it.” He growled with a smirk. He took a few steps down, lowering Miles to the roof by his hands before dropping down himself. They approached Rio, one much more nervous than the other, and she just sighed as she looked at them. She smiled, the kind of smile a mother would definitely wear when her kids were doing something adorably stupid, and she reached out to hug Miles close.
Hobie rested his hands in his pockets, chuckling as he stepped back. “Yeah, on that one, I should probably head on.” He sighed dramatically, spinning around and walking toward the other side of the roof. “Got a few little brothers to toss off roofs and all.”
He shot a pair of webs to snatch his guitar and the remains of his food bag from where he’d left them, stepping up onto the edge and poking at his watch. “Nice meeting you, ma’am!” He waved as he jumped down; there was a clatter from the fire escape before silence.
Rio hummed and ruffled Miles’ hair. “You do seem to take to the wild ones, don’t you?”
Miles rolled his eyes a little while she wasn’t looking. “You’re not wrong, I guess. Sorry, if we scared you, I mean. Did you need something?”
“Just wanted to say I’m proud of you.” She was tapping her phone, and when he saw the screen, he couldn’t help grinning. It was a clip from the news; apparently, he owed Hobie a fancy milkshake next time they met.
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morgana-ren · 2 years
Text
Here, take my cheese. I’ve felt like garbage lately which means you lot get a short sap. Short and bad, just for you. 
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"Merciful Gods, you wear that dress well, darling."
There's the ever playful lilt that is so signature to his tone, but the low drifting of his russet eyes denotes something far less innocent. He doesn't admire the taper that gently sways around her legs nor the flattering way it hugs her soft curves. 
Rather, his vision seems unceremoniously stuck on the low scoop where her ample cleavage lies, stuffed plump beneath the neckline— perhaps more than a little of the reason he'd acquired such a dress for her in the first place. 
Though his compliment is genuine— most evidenced by the rather conspicuous tightening of his breeches between his thighs— his beloved doesn't seem to blush or smile. Rather, she studies him through a grumpy side-eye, lips downturned in a distinctive pout and looking decidedly surly. 
"This is your fault, you know." 
He takes heed of her irritation, though doesn't faze him in the slightest. If anything, he finds it all rather adorable. She was always cute when she was angry; little nose crinkled and lips scrunched in a cranky huff. 
"I hardly can take credit for your beauty, my love," He reaches a cold, pale hand to caress her cheek and she swats him away. 
"I mean this!" She motions two angry fingers towards her swelling belly, currently hidden tastefully beneath the wispy fabric, adorned beneath a silken crimson cloth she's tied around her waist as an accent to draw attention away from it. 
He chuckles low and deep, scooting close enough to where she sits on the bed to wrap his wiry arms around her torso, squeezing enough to convey his tender affection but not enough to cause her discomfort given the circumstances. 
"Be fair, darling. It takes two to do the sinful tango, and it's hardly my fault you're so fecund," He giggles again, placing his palms face down on the rounds of her belly to feel the growing presence of life beneath her round flesh. "And in my defense, I thought it was as impossible as you did!"
"I'm not sure I believe that anymore," Her lips purse and she scowls at him. "Because here we are! You're telling me you had no idea this was possible? In two hundred years, you never heard a thing about this?" 
"Not the foggiest, my dear. Cross my unbeating heart. It wasn't a subject on the table most evenings." 
He gives her his most charming simper— one that drives her mad because she can never quite tell if he's telling the truth, even after years at his side. He doesn't let her linger long on the subject either way. The pregnancy hormones have taken root rather fast, and she is prone to moodiness— and an extreme thirst. 
"Either way, my dear, you look positively good enough to eat—"
"You're a pervert!" She wiggles and bats his hands away. "You can't talk to me like that anymore! I'm going to be some little one's mother." She straightens her spine proudly to convey a sense of austerity. 
One he immediately ruins. 
"Oh yes, you are," he giggles. "Two or three little ones judging by these alone—" 
He cups her breasts and jiggles them both in his palms as a dopey, lecherous smile spreads across his face. 
"Stop it!"
"Don't be greedy, my love. You have plenty to spare!" He laughs and shields his face from her barrage of playful slaps. 
"You're foul."
"And you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on." His expression softens ever so slightly and he places a gentle kiss on her temple. "And growing ever lovelier."
"Why did I agree to marry you?" She sighs at the sheer cheese of it all, petering out into a soft laugh as she exhales. 
"Because I'm the most handsome being on this side of Toril, quite obviously," he runs his slender fingers through his well-styled flaxen hair before tugging her close again. "And because I swept you off your feet long before they started to swell."
"Not enough."
"Because I'm the father of your future half-vampire children? I do assume that's how it works though I can't be entirely certain—"
"Nope. And I don't know. According to you, we're in uncharted territory here."
"How about because I adore you, worship the ground you walk on, and revere you as the baneful goddess you are —" He punctuates it with an elaborate, dramatic gesture, and she only blinks at him. "—and more importantly, you love me."
"I guess." She snorts. 
"The ring adorning your lovely little finger says otherwise," he intertwines his hand with hers, bringing the crimson bloodstone to light. 
"It is rather nice, isn't it?" She flexes her fingers in front of her as if to check her nails before planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. 
"Kept in the Szarr Family for centuries. He used to brag about it whenever he could— and I could swear it still has his blood on it in the right lighting. I suppose some stains never quite come out," A rueful smile plays across his pale-pink lips, rising just above the sharp of his fangs. "And now it's all mine— as are you." 
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rosie-rosem · 1 year
Text
hate pt 1
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❥ pairing: nonidol!jake x fem!reader
❥ genre: angst, fluff?, highschoolau!
❥ summary: y/n is the quiet type; however, she cannot stand bullying. Is it because she been involved with something similar or not?? jake, her next-door neighbor and childhood friend (not really), is dating the girl who is making y/n's school life exhausting. she can't catch a break between being at school and home. But she also can't express her feelings...
❥ warnings: crying, grammar mistakes, not proofread, bullying, let me know if I forgot something
---------------------------
WC: 2.8k
A/N: It's been a while since I last posted. this is going to be 2 parts just cause wanted to post something by today but wouldn't have been able to finish it so here you are. the second part should be posted sometime next week! please be patient with me :3
school. not exactly your favorite place, you don’t get the best grades or have to many friends. There is too much bullying at your school, an unexceptionable amount. Your school like isn’t a normal public school, it’s more like an all “rich kids” school, not quite private either though. The only kids who get picked on are the scholars which is completely stupid because they are probably smarter than half the non-scholar kids there.
you, on the other hand, are not a scholar which is only beneficial because you do get a good education (even if you suck at it) and you don’t get picked on too much. Your parents are quite wealthy. your father owning a tech company and you mother working for a fashion company. Your parents obviously want you to go to college, graduate and find some amazing career, but that’s not going to happen so quick. You fortunately don’t have the pressure of being an heiress for your dad’s company due to your older brother already being next in line.
Compared to you brother, you are more troublesome and carefree. Him being a workaholic and definitely more mature. Of course, you get compared to him. but while he’s finishing up his years in college you're finishing up yours in high school. oh, can’t you wait to graduate from school, especially this school. You don’t exactly like cause trouble, it just happens a lot, which brings us here.
you rolled your eyes at the scene that was happening in front of the class. You just wanted to rest your eyes a bit more before the bell rung but you clearly got disrupted. Cha Soo-Yun, the most annoying girl you’ve met, she’s always the one to pick on the scholars which annoys the hell out of you. She was currently picking on a transfer student who got the scholarship and gladly switched schools, she’s a junior and her name is Soon Yunji. “Haha, look at all this garbage” Soo-Yun said laughing with her one friend after dumping Yunji’s belongings from her backpack on the ground. the poor girl looks traumatized, who wouldn’t I mean Soo-Yun looks like a clown with the amount of makeup she wears to school. You couldn’t stand seeing Yunji look so pale from being embarrassed so you stood up and gladly walked in front of the girl’s desk. Soo-Yun just scoffed “ruining the fun again i see.” she crossed her arms. “it’s kind of pathetic that the first 20 minutes after you arrived, you're already picking on someone.” you must look tired but also annoyed because that’s exactly how you feel.
“Why do you always get in my way?” Soo-Yun complains. You cough, aiming it towards her, she scoffs and backs up in disgust. “Sorry, I’m getting over a cold, wouldn’t want to catch it princess, would you?” you smile to her in an annoying way, which just pisses her off even more. “euk, I can’t believe someone like you goes to this school” she states, still looking at you with disgust. you sigh, shoulders dropping “and I can’t believe you looked in the mirror this morning and thought your makeup looked good.” you give her a slight smirk. she fumes as some of the other kids in the classroom whisper after your comeback. she sprints over to you with an arm raised, she goes in for a slap, but you successfully dodge the hit. “Ah, you missed.” you say, eyebrow furrowed. You sigh after lifting your chin a bit more “it’s okay, hit me. I can take it. plus, I probably deserve it…right?” you say, stretching a bit, read for a hit. she scoffs once again as she glares into your cold gaze. “Unless you're scared.” you cock your head to the side which an eyebrow raised. Soo-Yun breathes a frustrated sigh. “a few minutes ago, you didn’t seem so scared to- “you state before feeling a stinging pain on your left cheek.
she did it. she fell for it. you hear a few gasps leave other classmates' mouths after the girl slapped you. you chuckle to her. Soo-Yun frowns “why are you laughing” she practically growls. “I need you to realize that I didn’t start this fight, okay?” you say, she furrows her eyebrows “what? -" she begins but before she finishes you kick her at the waist, causing her to fall to the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry, did that hurt” you crouch down and give her a mocking look.
Just as you stand up from crouching a familiar scent comes quickly, Sim Jake. Helping Soo-Yun up, he glares at you, and you shrug, “you need to control your girlfriend Jaeyun.” you say before quickly turning around and help Yunji pick up her things from the ground. “You good?” you ask, she just nods “yeah, and thanks.” she smiles you nod, “no problem.” you respond before standing up and heading back to your desk. You lay you head on your desk once more, trying to find enough peace to rest a tiny bit more but all you hear is Soo-Yuns' whiny voice complaining to Jake about you.
You weren’t worried about possibly getting in trouble at school, you were mostly worried if your parents would find out, which of course they did. “Why did you attack Cha Soo-Yun at school today.” Your father spews his anger out quite quickly once you get home. “Who told?” you said which no expression on your face. “That doesn’t matter right now y/n! I’m asking you a question.” his jaw clenches, you sigh “was it jake?” you ask. he lets out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Unfortunately, we had to hear the news from his parents, do you know how embarrassing that is?” he rests his hand on his forehead in embarrassment. “that’s why tonight i made plans to have dinner with Jaeyun and his parents, you're not only going to apologize to jake but also to Soo-Yun tomorrow in school.” he points his finger at you. you nod, acknowledging that you're listening to him. “Okay now head you your room, I’m tired of you.” he says with annoyance in his tone.
"Tired of me, oh please." you say as you lay your head down on your pillow after falling onto you bed. once again jake’s being an asshole. you look over to your window only to see Jake walking around his room like he’s looking for something. you stand up and walk over to the window, he also sees you, giving you and annoying smirk only for you to reply by harshly closing your blinds.
The time came, when Jake and his parents were invited over that day. You work a baby pink sweater with a knee-high white skirt. "You look good, Hun" your mother complimented. you slightly smiled to acknowledge that you heard her. "Is everything fine at school?" She worriedly asked you. "everything's fine mom, Soo-Yun is just problematic and jake's not much better." you said with a frustrated tone. "Plus, dad just clearly likes jake more than me so..." you slightly rolled your eyes at the thought, you mom sighed in return. "You know your father-" She began but got cut off by the sound of the front door opening and familiar voices be heard.
you and jakes' families have been close for as long as you can remember. Part of that being because both dads grew up together another part being because you are neighbors. Although, you and Jake started disagreeing a lot more once you both hit puberty. You both were never very close but close enough. Well, until high school.
"y/n!" a sweet voice calls out to you as you walk towards the door. You give a soft smile to the beautiful lady. Jakes mom, she was so sweet, she was like another mom to you. You loved her. You opened your arms and gave her a tight hug. "How are you, my love?" She pets your head with a gentle touch. You nodded to her with a genuine smile, still in her arms "good, I've been good." She soon let you go, to which you walk over to Mr. Sim, Jakes dad. You look up to him, awkwardly. "Ah, come here" the man says, pulling you into his side, with a hug. You smile, once again.
You were quite close with both of Jakes parents, they were like a second pair of parents to you. You loved them dearly. "Hey kiddo" Mr. Sim says. "hey" you laugh in return. You both let go, only to walk back over to you mom but turn to look at Jake and slightly bow your head a little just to show a bit of respect, to which he gives nothing in return.
You all head over to the dinner table and get settled to start eating. A few conversations start but you just listen quietly. A bit longer into dinner, you get asked something. "So how has school been y/n?" Mr. Sim asks, genuinely curious. You look up from your plate, "It's been okay." You pick at your food while answering. Jake gives a quiet scoff which only leads you to sigh. "Speaking of which, I believe there's something you would like to say to Jake, isn't there y/n." Your dad says while giving you a glare. He motions you to stand up. You assumed you would be able to apologize to Jake privately, but no, Hes making you do it in front of everyone. Everyone else looked a bit confused, besides Jake of course.
You gulped and stood up from your chair. You hesitated for a bit, "I'm sorry..." You said but soon continued after you dad gave you a look suggesting that you continued. "I'm sorry for how I treated Soo-Yun today. I will be apologizing to her separately as well, but because she's someone you care about, I'm apologizing to you too." You said, keeping you head down, biting the inside of your cheek in embarrassment. Jake just nods his head but then continues to eat. you sigh. Meanwhile, everyone else felt the awkward tension. "Good enough." your father says, which absolutely outrages you. You sit down as your lip quivers. You dad basically showed everyone how much control he had over you, and you hated it.
You held back your tears and continued to eat while putting on a smile to not show how upset you felt. After a little bit, when the tension cooled off you spoke up, "Excuse me, I'm going to use the bathroom" You gave a soft, yet fake smile.
Instead of going to the bathroom you went to your backyard patio and sat on the little bench swing. You felt even more frustrated and upset than you did earlier. You dad was nothing like jakes, and of course you didn't want to compare them, but your always jealous of how jake gets treated by his dad compared to you with yours. You sat there with a frown, picking your nails but soon hear heavy footsteps getting closer, Jake. "That was tense" he says, sitting next to you. "You enjoyed it, huh?" you said, still not looking his way. "Not as much as I will tomorrow when you say it to her." He says which makes you finally look at him. how did he know you were going to apologize to her tomorrow, your dad only told you to a few hours ago. "What if I don't do it tomorrow, huh?" you raise your eyebrows at him. "I would, because I can easily tell your father." he chuckles. You clench your teeth. "What, are you mad I know your weakness?" he says. "Weakness?" you question. "Your dad." he says. you squint. was he right? was your dad your weakness? "You don't know anything about me Sim Jake." Your lip twitches. "we'll see about that" he says, you stand up and walk away.
When you return to the others, you speak out, "I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling very well. I'm going to have to say goodbye now so I can lay down." You explain and say your goodbye before heading up to your room. Once you close your door, you feel an overwhelming sense of sadness and panic. Your dad is your weakness and that hurts your heart so much realizing it now. You dad wasn't always like this, he was kind, loving and fun up until you hit middle school. you don't know what happened, but it was like once your older brother left, he was terrible.
You walked over to your window and opened the closed blinds, sliding the window open to get a bit fresh air due to feeling suffocated. You didn't want to cry, but you couldn't help it. What's happening to you.
You eventually head over to your bed and fall asleep with shiny streaks on your face from the tears.
I hate you sim jaehyun.
The next day at school was nothing you ever imagined. It felt like all those k-dramas you watched where you were walking towards your classroom and everyone around you was whispering while you walk past. You felt confused. When you walked into the classroom, all eyes were on you which gave you chills. You scan the room only to see Soo-Yun crying in her seat, arm wrapped in a bandage. You sigh as Jake glares at you.
“Park y/n!” you turn to the crying girl. “Do you see what you caused?” she stood up and stomped your way. you eyed the ground annoyingly. “Ah, about that, I apologize for how I acted yesterday. It was wrong of me to kick you” you looked at her, apologizing. Jake kept a close eye on you while his girlfriend let out a snotty comment. “You realize that you're the bad guy now, right?” she chuckled, you turned to her. “That doesn’t matter to me. Just be happy I apologized.” you glared at her for a moment before turning away and heading to you seat. “Hah, only cause your daddy told you to.” she scoffed, you turned around in shock by her words. “What?” you said with furrowed eyebrows. You tightly closed you fist at her words, how did she know anything about that? you looked at Jake, he just looks back with no expression at all.
you looked around to see everyone looking at you like you just committed a sin, what the hell is going on. You ran out of the classroom, only to bump into someone on your way out, “sorry.” you mumbled not paying any attention to who they were, and you heart was racing, it felt like you were going to throw up, why though?
“Can you pick me up?” you called you brother with a shaky voice. He said he’d be there soon, so you just had to wait.
Did Jake tell? What was going on. Why were you so affected by your dad getting brought up? You brought you hand to your chest and rubbed it to get your heartbeat to slow a bit. “y/n” someone called for you. you turned to the familiar voice with anger and hurt in your eyes and a quivering lip. “What?” you practically yelled. Jake walked closer, only for you to back up. “Did you get what you wanted?” you said, holding you tears back. Jake really hurt you this time. “What?” he asked. Just then, a car pulls up. You brother rolls down the window and greets jake. “Go.” you say to you brother after getting in. He’s confused, but still listens.
You sit across your older brother in his apartment. He gave you a juice box which you were currently drinking. “So, what happened?” he asks, putting his elbows on the counter in the kitchen. “Nothing much, I just felt like skipping today. And please don’t tell dad!” you practically begged him. “Is he still giving you a hard time?” he asks. you were always comfortable telling you brother things, but this was different. It was your dad, and he was very close with your dad. “Ah, no..” you lied “he’s just been busy lately.” you say, reassuring you brother with a fake smile. “Hm, okay” he pets your head.
“But what was Jake doing outside with you?” he questions. “Not sure, but I don’t care. he’s an asshole,” you frown more when thinking back. “What?” he asked. “Him and his girlfriend are both assholes.” you share, still feeling mad. “I hate him.” you start tearing up. “Huh? what’s up?” he walks over to you. you start crying harder. “he’s so stupid.” you say. Your brother pats you back. “What do I do?” you question into your brother's chest. “I’ll make some ramen.” your brother says, you sniffle and nod.
______________________________________
hope you liked pt 1! come back for pt 2 (here) <3
© rosie-rosem
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joannechocolat · 10 months
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Dear Mr X...
It’s hard to give up a relationship, even when it has become toxic. Even when it brings you no joy, it’s hard to accept the fact that you’re better off without it. To look at the time you spent building it, to write off those years and start again can feel like jumping off a cliff into a bottomless precipice. You start to think of all the things you’ll lose if the relationship ends; the good times, the shared friends, the laughter and the memories. Your heart sinks at the thought of trying to rebuild all that from scratch. The time. The work. The energy. It feels like a bereavement.
I feel like that about Twitter now. A relationship that began fifteen years ago, when I was someone different, and the platform was new and hopeful and designed for communication, rather than spreading division. Sometimes I still find myself mourning that time; the friends I made; the stories I wrote, the thousands of incarnations of the Shed. Some of my friends have been left there for good, their Twitter accounts frozen in time; their words all that remains of them. Perhaps that’s why I’m reluctant to leave, even though the bluebirds have flown, and even the logo is changing to something that looks to me a lot like a modified swastika – an apt comparison, given the way in which certain voices and political views have been given unasked-for prominence, while others seem to have vanished altogether from my feed. Feed someone garbage for long enough, and they start to sicken and die. That’s what happening via this site. I have watched it happening ever since Elon Musk arrived - a man so cartoonishly self-obsessed that it’s hard to even believe he’s real, except that no writer of fiction or game designer would dream of creating such a crass and substandard character.
X. What a choice of symbol.
X marks the spot for pirates in search of buried treasure. X is the mark of a person who is unable to write their name. X is the identity of someone who needs to stay anonymous. It’s a voter’s mark; an erasure; a mystery; a chromosome.
And it’s also an occult symbol, a rune: the rune Gyfu according to the Old English Futhorc, and Gebo in the Elder Futhark; both of which translate as “gift”.
The Anglo-Saxon rune poem that accompanies it goes like this:
ᚷ Gẏfu gumena bẏþ gleng and herenẏs, ƿraþu and ƿẏrþscẏpe and ƿræcna gehƿam ar and ætƿist, ðe bẏþ oþra leas.
which translates as follows:
Generosity brings credit and honour, which support one's dignity; it furnishes help and subsistence to all broken men who are devoid of aught else.
At first glance, this seems the opposite of what Elon Musk has done for the world. A man who sees social media as his own personal platform; a man who sees the cosmos as his own personal joy-ride.
The mistake we made was believing that Twitter was our playground. Elon Musk has made it his, and is currently in the process of breaking the toys, chopping down the trees and nuking the site from orbit, just to prove that play is overrated, and that only money counts. I can’t help feeling sorry for the little boy he must have been, and to wonder what he might have been like if he’d actually had any friends. But it’s time: and the change of branding makes it even easier to step away.
So maybe this is a kind of gift to the ones of us leaving Twitter. Misinformation, misogyny, transphobia, conspiracy theories and other kinds of social media poison have already made it increasingly difficult to feel safe there. (And fun fact, the word Gift in German happens to mean “poison”.) Perhaps the ultimate gift of X is the freedom from the toxicity that has built up in this most volatile of media; the gift of better mental health; of greater connection to our world; an escape from a toxic fantasy back into the open air.
I won’t leave altogether – Threads still isn’t open to Europe, and the jury’s still out on Bluesky - but I don’t want to give any more of my content to a man who values power and money over human connection. I’m @joannechocolat across all my social media - that’s Threads, Bluesky, Tumblr and Instagram – and I’ll still be posting stories on my ko-fi account at: https://ko-fi.com/story. But if you want to know what I’m doing, then sign up to my free newsletter on my website at joanne-harris.co.uk. I’m coming to believe that social media as I once knew it may have run its course for me: I won’t leave it altogether, but from now on I plan to invest more of my time and energy elsewhere.
And as for Mr X - I doubt you’ll be around forever. But while you are, my gift to you is this final story: written live on Twitter, as was, for all the little bluebirds.
There once was a boy who had no friends. His father gave him everything money can buy: toy cars, model aeroplanes, even rockets that really flew, but friends were impossible to buy, and the boy was lonely, angry, and bored. 
One day, when he was playing alone with one of his expensive toys, he saw a group of children playing in a nearby park. They sounded so merry and carefree that the boy was jealous. 
“Why don’t I have friends?” he cried. “I shall buy the park, and then everyone will notice me.”
And so the boy asked his father to buy him the park for his very own; and he settled there with his expensive toys, and put a notice on the gate, saying: Entrance fee, 8 shillings.
The children of the neighbourhood looked enviously at the empty park. Some of the wealthier ones paid the entry fee, but many of the children did not; instead, they waited outside the gates, and looked into the place where once they had all played together.
But still the boy was not content. None of the new children played with him. Instead they played their own games, and climbed trees, or played hide and seek, or lay on the grass watching the clouds. None of this served the boy at all, and he was sulky and discontent.
“If I have all the trees cut down, then maybe the others will notice me,” he thought.
And so he ordered his servants to cut down all the trees in the park. But apart from a few toadies and flatterers, the children still did not play with him, but mocked him secretly from afar, and fell silent whenever he passed by.
“How ungrateful these children are,” said the boy, getting angry. “I bought this park for them, and still they refuse to play with me! Very well, I shall cease to pay the groundsmen and the gardeners. The park will be overrun with weeds. Wild animals will roam there.”
And so the boy did as he had promised, and the park became a wilderness. No-one wanted to pay for it, and even the toadies and flatterers and children of wealthy families went elsewhere to see their friends.
The boy was very angry at this, but there was no-one to be angry with. All the other children had gone. And so he took out his rage on the deer who had begun to roam in the park, shooting them with his toy crossbow, and became known throughout the land as a mighty hunter.
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kdramedies · 2 years
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Oh In-joo, while naive in the context of the story we are being told, is not an idiot. In the first few episodes In-joo is established as someone who is resourceful, competent at her job, and a good sister. She always makes sure there’s a roof over her family’s head, food in their bellies, and tries to make sure that they’re (mainly In-hye) safe and happy. In-joo is really good at being poor. Which is why I don’t understand all of the comments I keep seeing calling In-joo an idiot or complaining that she’s too stupid so the show is “un-feminist” (whatever that means [does that mean women aren’t allowed to be a little dumb sometimes? Seems pretty un-feminist for women to be put into a box like that...]). Like, why the fuck would someone who has been dirt poor all their life suddenly be amazing in the world of money, murder, and politics? The first thing In-joo did with 2 billion won was buy name brand ice cream. That’s how poor she’s been throughout her life, corner store ice cream was her big first splurge (and it was on sale!). Some of her scenes have been played to add a bit of levity to such a dramatic show, the “hands up” scene is one of my favourites, but again, those scenes are of her experiencing situations that she’s never had cause to even wonder about before. I’ve certainly never thought about the bounds of plastic surgery, and if faced with a gun, I fully believe I would wet myself. But In-joo, someone who is earnest and takes things at face value, is somehow managing to survive in this world of lies and backstabbing she’s been thrown into. Some of it is dumb luck, some of it is Do-il saving her neck, but some of it is her. And I don’t just mean her badass moment in Singapore. Her resilience, her earnestness, her optimism and kindness. Every choice she’s made has contributed to the fall of the Jeongran Society. Her additions to their rag-tag team go largely unnoticed since she’s not unearthing the story behind it all like In-kyung, or a former inside man like Do-il, but In-joo is the one who has the mastermind behind all of this shaken. And it’s not just because this all started with Sang-a’s obsession with In-joo. Sang-a thought she knew In-joo, but like a lot of viewers, she didn’t know who In-joo would become. She thought In-joo would do anything for money, but instead In-joo would do anything for her family and her best friend, even after learning that their friendship was a lie. She didn’t know that behind her naivete In-joo was strong; stronger than her. Sang-a may be more confident, conniving, and quick-witted, but she can’t handle things not going her way. In-joo on the other hand, has never had anything go her way and as a result is more adaptable and quicker to bounce back.
This entire show is about classism and the ways that it divides us, schooling and intelligence is one of them. Without Hyo-rin’s family In-hye wouldn’t have had the opportunities they gave her. Without their great aunt, In-kyung wouldn’t have gone to university. But In-joo didn’t have anyone to give her a helping hand. People who are looking down on her character for being an “idiot” are only proving one of the points the drama is trying to make. If you’re poor, you’re considered unintelligent, if you’re considered unintelligent then people can treat you like garbage and get away with it. But Oh In-joo is done letting people get away with it.
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thezombieprostitute · 1 month
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Changing Minds - Part 8
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Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: Mild violence and mentions of blood. Please let me know if I missed any.
A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.
Part 7 -- Epilogue
Series Masterlist
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The day of the Tea Party you hold Nick’s hand as much as you can in the car. While it’s impossible to really have a plan for what’s going to happen, you’ve talked through some plans for what to do if things go bad. Nick made sure you memorized the directions to the nearby Cairo Hotel and to ask for the manager, Jonathan Pine. As a fail-safe Nick had reserved a room under both of your names.
Nick parks the car but stops you from getting out. He gently holds your chin and, eyes full of worry, he pleads, “promise me, if anything happens, you’ll get out. Don’t stop or try to help me. You just get the hell out of there.”
“It wouldn’t look good if your girlfriend just bolted,” you argue.
“If things go south there’s gonna be a lot of chaos and a lot of things could go bad,” he asserts. “You run to the hotel. I’ll do better if I know you’re safe. Please.”
“I can’t promise that, Nick,” you object. “Believe it or not, I do actually care about you and don’t want you killed because I decided to provoke him.” Nick’s eyes widen at your confession so you continue, “it’s not romantic care. Not right now. But we’ve been friendly for so long, I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt to lose you.”
“Thank you for that,” he whispers. “But I can’t let you go to this party unless you promise me you’ll take care of yourself first.”
“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But I get to decide what taking care of myself first looks like.”
“I suppose that’ll have to do,” he smiles softly. “You can be so delightfully stubborn.”
Part of you wants to believe he is interested in being more than just friends. That his words are heartfelt compliments. You brush those thoughts away and mumble, “let’s just get this over with.”
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You’re a little disappointed that the rooftop garden is so much a garden as it is a rooftop lawn. There aren’t any plants aside from grass and some plain green bushes that have been trimmed into neat, orderly box shapes. The only color is provided by the pink tablecloths that adorn the few designated eating areas. It makes you wonder if your dress is out of place and too colorful for the occasion. 
There were other people already in attendance. A small group of young ladies posing for their phones, smiling and laughing. A few gentlemen who were clearly dragged along by the young ladies, sitting and grumpily staring at their phones, occasionally discussing whatever it is rich young people discuss. And Clark Kent, directing the catering staff and telling the bartender to not let his nephew have more than two drinks. 
Being the polite guests that you are, you and Nick make sure to tell Clark that you’ve arrived. He plasters on his best fake smile to greet you, not even bothering to look at Nick. 
“Ah, sweet Lady, you brighten this party with your presence,” he schmoozes, taking your hand to kiss it. “Sincerely, I feel out of place with all of these young ones. It’s nice to have someone mature to have a conversation with.”
“Yes, Nick and I do seem to be the only adults on the guest list,” you comment. “Are you hosting this for someone else?”
Clark sighs, “my nephew is trying to impress his girlfriend. Apparently she’s trying to make it big on Instagram, or whatever. He’s hoping attending a party hosted by Clark Kent will be good for her profile and, thus, good for him.”
“Ah,” you smile. “Kids in love are so adorable.”
Clark scoffs, “it isn’t ‘love’ it’s just horny college boy stuff.”
“Oh,” your smile falls. “He told you as such?”
“No, but I remember being that age,” he retorts. “All that’s on his mind is getting laid.”
“I remember being that age as well,” Nick interrupts. “And I remember thinking it was love.”
“And clearly it wasn’t,” Clark rebutted. “Or else you wouldn’t be here with this lovely Lady today.”
“Not all love can be true love,” Nick countered. “But it can still be real. You take the lessons you learn from that love and apply them to the next, in an effort to keep it.” He looks at you, eyes soft, yet steely with determination. “Maybe it’ll even become a true love with time and work.”
“Agree to disagree, I suppose,” Clark rolls his eyes as he smiles. “I’ll believe in love when it actually happens.”
“Given how things worked out for us, I’m inclined to agree with Nick,” you banter. “Sometimes life makes us too cynical, too hard on ourselves, to see real love. I think it’s why I adore when younger people are in love. It’s so cute and pure. But, this is clearly something we’re not all going to agree on so how about we just enjoy the food, drink and company?”
Nick kisses the back of your hand, “my Lady is so very wise.”
“Agreed,” Clark hums. “Feel free to partake of any of the food and drink that interest you. And do let me know how you like it. I need to make sure to leave feedback for the caterer.”
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About an hour into the party you find yourself enjoying the company of the younger folk. They’re a lot like the young people you work with and you almost feel like “the cool aunt” with how willing they are to open up to you, how they light up when you ask more about their ideals and dreams. Nick stays with you and follows your lead. He hasn’t seen you so relaxed and happy in a while and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way. 
He also keeps an eye on Clark, who is sulking near the bar. You’d clearly been invited to keep him company but you’re enjoying the company of everyone else. Nick’s lost track of the number of refills Clark’s gotten on his drink but it’s definitely been enough to start affecting him. The casual observer might be fooled but Nick notices the slight tells of Clark being buzzed, closing in on drunk. 
To be honest, though, a drunk Clark Kent isn’t Nick’s primary concern; it’s the Instagram girl constantly taking photos and videos. Nick doesn’t care much for putting his face out in public but the young lady is insistent on getting everyone in view. He’s grateful when you comment about him being painfully camera shy and go out of your way to block his face when you can. 
At least until the Instagram girl tells all of her followers how much fun you are. When that pronouncement comes out everyone hears Clark shout, “she’s supposed to be talking with me! Not you young idiots!” He comes storming over to you and Nick immediately jumps in his way, hands out in a calming, placating manner.
“Mr. Kent,” Nick entreats, “you’ve had a lot to drink today. Please take a breath and consider what–” He’s interrupted by a punch to the face. 
“NICK!” You immediately run to him to see if he’s okay. 
Your scream seems to pierce Clark’s drunken state and he shakes his head trying to clear it. That’s when he sees the phone is still out. Still live-streaming. He looks over to you and Nick and closes the distance to punch Nick again, this time putting him on the ground.
“You did this on purpose,” Clark shouts. “You set me up for ruin with your schemes and plots!”
“Mr. Kent,” you scold, “we are your guests. You invited us here and we’ve been nothing but polite.”
“You should leave,” Clark snarls. You take a step back, startled by the rage in his face. 
Nick is up and grabs your shoulder, pulling you behind him. “He’s right, we should leave.” He keeps between you and Clark as you head towards the stairs to get to the elevator. Once inside you see the blood draining from Nick’s nose and get some things from your purse to try to clean him up. As much as he wants to enjoy your caring touch, he has to keep alert. Especially when the “express” elevator stops early. 
The door opens and a small group of burly men gesture for you to step out with them. Nick looks at you and whispers, “remember the plan.” You nod and Nick throws himself at the small posse. 
You hit the “Close Doors” button and stay out of sight until the doors close. You stay in that spot until the doors open at the lobby and you rush out. Your entire system is on high alert but you have to pretend to be calm as you walk through the lobby. You don’t want to draw attention. Silently you thank Nick for making you memorize the path to the hotel as it becomes the mantra for your brain, keeping you from panicking. 
The Cairo Hotel lobby is immaculate and you do feel a little safer just for being there. You approach the front desk and shakily ask to see Jonathan Pine, the Manager. The woman behind the desk gives you a once over but goes to get him. You keep looking to the hotel entrance, hoping to see Nick, afraid to see Clark. You’re certain Nick is strong and capable; Teach said he’s one of their best security people. It’s why he was called in to protect a witness. You’re still very scared for him, though.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a polite cough from behind the desk. A tall, lean man with blondish brown hair and blue eyes is smiling politely, “you asked for me?”
“Y–yes,” you start, “I was told by Nick Fowler to come and ask for you?”
Mr. Pine’s eyes flicker with recognition at the name, “ah, yes. Mr. Fowler speaks highly of you. Please come with me so we can get you taken care of.”
“Thank you, sir.”
As he begins to lead you away you hear your name being shouted from the hotel entrance. You’re not sure if he followed you or if this place just made sense, but it’s clear Clark is very angry with you.
“You owe me an apology and an explanation,” he shouts as he storms towards you. 
Mr. Pine steps in front of you and calmly tells Clark that he needs to leave. “I will not have a disturbance at my hotel, Mr. Kent. I will especially not tolerate any violence or threats of violence against one of my guests.”
“She’s not a guest,” Clark spits. “She can’t afford a place like this! I’ve seen her pay statements! She’d be lucky to be able to afford a half hour here!”
“She is a registered guest at this hotel, Mr. Kent, and I will not let you threaten her.”
“This is bullshit! I’ve done nothing but be kind to her and she’s ruined my reputation!”
“Your quarrel, legitimate or otherwise, has no bearing here, Mr. Kent. She is a guest, she is under my protection.”
“Oh fuck you,” Clark snaps before throwing a punch at Mr. Pine. Mr. Pine easily dodges, grabs Clark’s arm and maneuvers him into a wristlock, causing Clark to let out a bark of pain.
“Miranda,” Mr. Pine addresses the hotel clerk. “Please escort the Lady to the Cleopatra Suite while I call the police.”
Miranda nods and gestures for you to follow her.
+++++++++
You spend the next hour pacing the hotel room you were brought to. It’s a smaller, windowless suite that makes you think it’s specifically set aside for emergencies. There’s a mini-bar but you have no stomach for food or drink. You’re all nerves and keep pacing as much as you can. You wish Nick were here. It wouldn’t be enough for someone to tell you he’s okay, you need to actually see him, feel him, know he’s still alive. 
The past few weeks have been a tumultuous mess and Nick quickly became your safety net, your safe haven, your reliable partner. You’d started craving his reassuring touch, his comforting whispers in your ear. You swear to yourself that if Nick makes it through this you’re gonna tell him about your feelings. About how you want it to be real. Hopefully he’ll let you down gently. 
A tone from your phone gets you to stop pacing. You find a text from Nick, “about to knock on the door.” Sure enough, there’s a knock. You still make sure to check that it’s him through the peephole, just to be safe. You almost start crying when you see him on the other side of the door.
Flinging the door open you pull Nick inside with you, slam the door shut and pull him in for a kiss. Initially thrown off, he softens into the kiss and holds you tight. When you pull away for a breath you whisper, “you’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay. Didn’t realize how much I needed you to be okay.”
“Yeah, sweet Lady, I’m okay,” he assures. 
When you pull away again you gasp at how beaten up he looks. He quickly tells you he’s had worse, that he’ll be okay in a few days, but you barely hear him. 
“Have you seen a doctor? Nick, you might have a concussion, or broken bones, or something worse!”
“I needed to make sure you were okay first,” he confesses as he kisses you again. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you being caught.” Another kiss. “Needed to hold you again, just to be sure.” You welcome the kisses and return them with a fervor that encourages Nick to keep going. “Couldn’t go to a doctor until I heard your voice again.”
“I felt the same,” you admit between kisses. “I never want to go through that again. I need you, Nick.”
“Need me?” He gently pulls away from you, eyes searching your face. 
“Yes, Nick,” you breathe. “I’ve always felt safe with you, enjoyed your company and the past few weeks have just cemented that. I want you around. I need your touch, your comforting words and presence. Please.”
“I’ll happily be yours,” he affirms. “And if I wasn’t worried about getting blood on your gorgeous body I’d take you here and now.”
You can’t hold back a small moan at the thought of Nick’s expert lips on other parts of your body and he smiles before wincing at the pain it causes in his split lip. That elicits a small chuckle from you, “we really should get you to a hospital, Nick.”
“Will you hold my hand while they patch me up,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m not a fan of hospitals and could use the comfort of your touch to help keep me calm.”
“Gladly, Nick.”
He kisses the back of your hand, “thank you, my gracious Lady.”
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Part 7 -- Epilogue
Series Masterlist
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