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#I blew him semi regularly
kathaynesart · 15 days
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The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.
BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST
Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!
One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!
We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.
With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.
The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.
Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.
Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!
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queer-irritator · 1 year
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A New Neighbor | Kratos x GN! Reader | Chapter 1
A/N: Hello! So I’ve literally never written a fanfic before, but the lack of Kratos x Reader is unacceptable. I’m not sure how often I will update, but GoW is my current hyperfixation, so I’m hoping to update semi-regularly. Please be easy on me if I mess anything up... Enjoy!
Also, this is set around Gow:R timeline, so Atreus is a moody teen.
Content Warnings: None
Word Count: 954
Chapter 2
Summary: Deep in the Wild Woods, you live in a hidden house. While out gathering food, your wolf alerts you to a stranger near your home. As you cautiously approach to the stranger your wolf has found, you see a... teenager?
Kratos and Atreus had just returned home from a long journey the other day. They were both so exhausted that they just went to sleep right away. The first conversation they had since coming home had turned into an argument.
Atreus was frustrated, pacing around the room. No matter what he said, his father didn’t trust him, which is what had led to their current argument. 
“Why can’t you just trust me?” Atreus yelled to his father. 
“Because you lie!” Kratos retorted. 
“I only lie because you don’t trust me!”
“If you did not lie, I would trust you.”
Atreus groaned in frustration, he grabbed his bow and quiver and walked toward the door to leave. 
“Where are you going?” His father questioned.
“Hunting.” Atreus replied coldly as he left the house, slamming the door behind him.
“He just doesn’t get it.” Atreus said to himself. 
He was trudging through the snow, not paying attention to his surroundings. He knew the Wild Woods was (mostly) safe. 
“He gets to keep secrets but I can’t? That isn’t fair.” He continued talking aloud. 
Atreus’ thoughts were interrupted by a low growl coming from his right. He drew his bow and pointed it to where the noise originated from. It was a wolf, it was mostly white with some gray coloring on its ears and paws. Most noticeable, it had striking red eyes.
Atreus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, “Hey buddy… You scared me there.”
The wolf simply stared at Atreus, unsure of his presence.
He began to lower his bow, “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He put his arrow back in his quiver. “See?” Atreus said, slowly beginning to approach the wolf with his hands out in front of him in a defensive position. 
“Rana!” A voice called from deeper in the woods, the wolf howled in response. 
Atreus took a step back and scanned the forest, looking for where the voice came from, ready to grab an arrow if needed. A figure appeared behind the wolf, hidden in the shade of the trees.
“What are you doing out here alone?” the figure questioned, their tone laced with concern. 
“I… I’m hunting.” Atreus replied warily.
“Wolves?” The figure questioned.
“No! No… deer.” Atreus clarified.
“Alone?” Their voice once again showed concern.
“Yeah…” 
The figure stepped forward, a hand reached out and stroked the wolf’s back. The golden light from the setting sun shone on the figure. They had (y/c) hair, some pieces were decorated with gold jewelry cuffs. Their (y/ec) eyes looked over Atreus, searching for any signs of harm done to the boy. 
“Come with me.” The stranger said as they turned around and began to walk deeper into the forest, the white wolf following close behind. 
“O…kay..” Atreus said, unsure, but followed the stranger, keeping distance between them.
After walking for a few minutes in silence, the trio came to a dead end, they stood in front of a dark gray slab of rock. Atreus glanced around, becoming uneasy. 
“This is it…” he thought, “They’re gonna try to kill me.” He silently concluded. 
The stranger got out something from their pocket, rubbed it together in their hands and blew it towards the rock, saying a spell. Cracks began to form in the rock, the outline of a door appeared. The stranger pushed open the newly formed doors, the wolf trotted inside, and the stranger turned to Atreus. 
“Please come in. This is my home.” They stated. 
Atreus slowly walked through the doors, the air was warmer here, there was no snow on the ground. There were animals of all sorts around, chickens, goats, horses, and more wolves. There was a large garden behind a decently sized house. 
“It’s beautiful here.” Atreus gawked.
“Thank you.” The stranger smiled and walked to the front door of their house, and they opened it, motioning for Atreus to come in. “My name is (y/n), by the way.”
Atreus entered the house and replied to (y/n), “I’m Atreus.”
He scanned the interior of the house, taking note of the little trinkets displayed around the house, a pile of books stacked in a corner, and a large array of cabinets and a long table in the corner, where (y/n) was headed.
“You said you were hunting. Do you live by yourself?” (y/n) asked, getting a wicker basket out and laying some cloth in it. 
“No, I live with my father.” Atreus replied, wandering around the house and looking at different artifacts.
“Mmh, I see.” (y/n) began to grab some things out of the cabinet and place it in the basket, they also added a loaf of bread. 
“I haven’t seen you around before,” they continued, “Are you new to the area?”
Atreus chuckled a little, this is the only place he thinks of home, he grew up here, he was definitely not new the Wild Woods. “No, I’ve lived here since I was born.”
“Oh, I’ve been here the last two winters and I never noticed anyone around.” (y/n) explained, still adding to the basket in their hand.
“Well, father and I travel a lot. We just came home a few nights ago.” Atreus explained. 
“I see.” (y/n) said as they crouched down to a small cabinet and pulled out a bottle with a cork on it. “Okay,” they said, standing up, “I’ve got you and your father some food here. We should get you back home.”
“Oh, thank you!” Atreus was trying to not be obvious about how excited he was to have a variety of food to eat.
(Y/n) smiled softly at Atreus, they opened the door to exit their house and began to follow Atreus back to his home.
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ryan-sometimes · 10 days
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No one:
No one at all:
Not a single soul:
Me: Nick and Amy will be gone. But then we never really existed. Nick loved a girl I was pretending to be. Cool girl. Men always use that, don't they? As their defining compliment. She's a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She likes what he likes. So, evidently, he's a vinyl hipster who loves fetish manga. If he likes girls gone wild, she's a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at Hooters. When I met Nick Dunne, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I'll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank canned beer watching Adam Sandler movies. I ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. I blew him... semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game. I can't say I didn't enjoy some of it... Nick teased out in me things I didn't know existed. A lightness, a humour, an ease. But I made him smarter, sharper, I inspired him to rise to my level. I forged the man of my dreams. We were happy pretending to be other people. We were the happiest couple we knew. And what's the point of being together if you're not the happiest? But Nick got lazy. He became someone I did not agree to marry. He actually expected me to love him unconditionally then he dragged me, penniless, to the navel of this great country and found himself a newer, younger, bouncier Cool Girl. You think I'd let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? No fucking way. He doesn't get to win! My cute, charming, salt of the earth Missouri guy. He needed to learn. Grown ups work for things. Grown ups pay. Grown ups suffer consequences.
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delusions-inpink · 9 months
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Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they? As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She like what he likes. So, evidently, he’s vinyl hipster who loves fetish monger. If he likes girls gone wild, she’s a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at Hooters. When I met Nick Dunne, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I’ll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank canned beer watching Adam Sandler movies. I ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. I blew him… semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game.
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wenevergotusedtoegypt · 3 months
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Feeling a bit lost with how to handle this whole food allergy situation with 1.5yo.
I asked a question a while back in a Facebook group and a bunch of the answers were telling me that I should get a 2nd opinion because food allergies shouldn't be diagnosed solely based on allergy skin/blood testing, in the absence of experiencing an actual reaction. And it's like...guys...I don't know what to tell you, but he has been diagnosed with these allergies by TWO separate allergists, the latter of whom doesn't feel it's safe to do a food challenge with him for peanuts. You are random internet people with allergic children. He's the doctor. I can't reasonably operate by assuming his advice is wrong.
Anyway, I feel like we're in a weird situation because 1.5yo has only had a small handful of allergy-like symptoms in his life, despite regularly being exposed to most/all of his actual and potential allergens. So it doesn't seem like he's that sensitive, but...we don't exactly know what he can and can't handle. On the one hand I obviously want to be safe, but on the other I don't want to make difficult changes to our lives unnecessarily. It's hard to know what level of guardrails to put up. When I asked about this, his allergist said not to give him peanuts, hold him while eating peanuts, or let little kids who just ate peanuts touch him without being wiped down, but otherwise to keep doing what we've been doing.
So last night we had takeout from a restaurant we hadn't been to before. Nobody's food had any obvious forms of his allergens in it. At first I wasn't going to give him anything from the restaurant, but he was super upset that he wasn't getting what everyone else got. I called the restaurant and asked what oil they used to make their fries, and the guy said he was pretty sure but could not confirm that it was canola, which is fine for him. So he ate several fries, and then he ended up having a burger bun that had ketchup on it (no sesame seeds on the bun), and a very small amount of some garlic mayo sauce.
All of a sudden half his lower lip blew up.
The thing is, in the midst of all this, 4yo had semi-bodyslammed 1.5yo face-first on the kitchen floor, so I wasn't actually sure whether the swollen lip was an allergic reaction, or an injury. I gave him Benadryl to be safe, and by the time my husband got home 2 or 3 hours later it had gone down enough that he didn't notice anything until I pointed it out. So maybe allergic reaction? Like, I don't feel like injury-related swelling would go down that fast. But I also have no idea what he could have been reacting to from the items he ate. So maybe no more restaurant food for him unless it's somewhere known to be allergy-friendly? Except he's had food from restaurants tons of times before we knew he had allergies, and never had an issue. So is that really a commitment we reasonably need to make? It would be super inconvenient and frustrating. I don't even know.
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psicologa--demente · 1 year
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The cool girl by Amy Elliot Dunne
Nick and Amy will be gone. But then we never really existed. Nick loved a girl I was pretending to be. Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they?  As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She like what he likes. So, evidently, he’s vinyl hipster who loves fetish monger. If he likes girls gone wild, she’s a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at Hooters. When I met Nick Dunne, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I’ll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank canned beer watching Adam Sandler movies. I ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. I blew him… semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it… Nick teased out in my things I didn’t know existed. A lightness, a humour, an ease. But I made him smarter, sharper, I inspired him to rise to my level. I forged the man of my dreams.
We were happy pretending to be other people. We were the happiest people we knew. And what’s the point of being together if you’re not the happiest. But Nick got lazy. He became someone I did not agree to marry. He actually expected me to love him unconditionally then he dragged me, penniless, to the naval of this great country and found himself a newer, younger, bouncier Cool Girl. You think I’d let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? No fucking way. He doesn’t get to win!
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cassandraleeds · 6 months
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Remembering how a D-type I made friends with a few months ago and see semi-regularly at events was like, "okay so you're a guy and you're gonna spend money on gear, I'm telling you." And I blew him off like yeah whatever buddy I'm pretty consistently DIY. And now I'm budgeting for pieces of black tactical combat wear for scenes.
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twentythreefour · 10 months
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"Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they? As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrined loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She like what he likes. So, evidently, he’s vinyl hipster who loves fetish monger. If he likes girls gone wild, she’s a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at Hooters. When I met Nick Dunne, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I’ll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank canned beer watching Adam Sandler movies. I ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. I blew him… semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it… Nick teased out of me things I didn’t know existed. A lightness, a humour, an ease. But I made him smarter, sharper, I inspired him to rise to my level. I forged the man of my dreams.
We were happy pretending to be other people. We were the happiest couple we knew. And what’s the point of being together if you’re not the happiest. But Nick got lazy. He became someone I did not agree to marry. He actually expected me to love him unconditionally then he dragged me, penniless, to the naval of this great country and found himself a newer, younger, bouncier Cool Girl. You think I’d let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? No fucking way. He doesn’t get to win."
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moku-youbi · 2 years
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I didn't start this post as an album review a decade and a half too late...
But here we are. disclaimer that this is full of digressions and might not matter to anyone except for me. I'm not really interested in arguing about who does these things "better," like those critical at the time did. I love MCR just as much as FOB, and Green Day holds a special place in my heart, but lyrically Pete speaks to me the most, and guess what? I can love more than one band that does similar things for different reasons???
to this day, I do not understand how Folie a Deux was so roundly dismissed and/or hated on by FOB fans. Purists want to act like emo as a genre can't draw on or include anything else, which I've always found obnoxious as hell anyway, so maybe that's why I don't understand the hate. But it's particularly funny to me, because I think in a lot of ways this is one of the darkest albums lyrically with a lot of tragically, aggressively dismal outlooks from Pete on his mental health and suicidal ideation. It's some of his most honest, rawest truths, but because of the music it's set to, his fans accused him of selling out instead of listening to what he was saying.
Songs like "27" (so named for the infamous 27 Club, which Pete was just slightly past at the time of writing it), "(Coffee's for Closers)," "Tiffany Blews," "What a Catch, Donnie," "w.a.m.s.," "20 Dollar Nosebleed," and "West Coast Smoker," (over half of the 13 song album) deal heavily with themes of lack of self-worth, the vicious cycle of drug use to deal with depression(both legal and illicit), conflating mental illness with talent, lack of control over his own life, struggling with feelings ungrateful in the face of fame (what does someone so famous/wealthy/well-loved/good-looking have to complain about anyway, cry-baby?!), being accused of using his mental illness as a prop, or faking it for notoriety, unable to find a human connection or not being able to hold onto it when he does, and on, and on, and on, all laced through, sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly, with this idea that he doesn't know how to continue living, wants something desperately to show him how to continue living.
It's someone screaming for help, and given that Pete later discussed much of the inspiration coming from his feeling of the inevitability of the band's breakup, it's no wonder. These things are lyrically explicit or discussed in depth in interviews: He saw Fall Out Boy as the thing that had kept him alive past 27 (Pete and his management legitimately thought he would not live past that age). He saw Patrick as someone he was very close to, who understood him, something he regularly says feels impossible to him (what a match/I'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet). And he saw it falling apart (two songs acknowledge how tired they're getting in their first lines, "The (shipped) Gold Standard" and "20 Dollar Nosebleed" with Sometimes I wanna quit this song and become an accountant now/But I'm no good at math and besides the dollar is down and Have you ever wanted to disappear/And join a monastery, respectively). In "Tiffany Blews," Pete tells us he's A caterpillar that got stuck/Mr. Moth, come quick with any luck/A long walk to a dark house/A roman candle heart keep us far apart. He'd made it halfway through this transformation into something or someone else, maybe someone healthier or at least past self-destructive tendencies, and now he's stuck. He doesn't know what's coming next, but he needs it fast because he doesn't know if he can hold on for it. (Slightly off-topic, but I can't help but wonder how seeing Panic! at the Disco's split might have fucked him up over it even more--thank fuck things went much better for Fall Out Boy in that regard...)(If this is all getting you down, just remember the hiatus ended, and we have several beautiful albums that followed.) (Also off topic, but if you're an FOB fan and haven't listened to Pete's hiatus band's work, you are seriously missing the fuck out. I'll do a post on that later...)
But FOB fans are notoriously hard to please, something Pete acknowledges frequently on this album as well as others (on "She's My Winona" Patrick sings, Even the young ones become irrelevant/They always bring up how you changed/Never the same person when I go to sleep/As when I wake up,) while simultaneously letting them know he doesn't give a fuck (All of "I Don't Care").
I mean, I get that it's not a perfect album, but it's so full of pomp and passion, with all these catchy, pop-y choruses that make you wanna sing along at the top of your lungs while racing through the city with windows down (yes, okay, I'm harkening back to Infinity on High, but "Bang the Doldrums" is one of my favourite songs ever, so...) Poignant and tragic or breezy and giddy or maybe sometimes just a little bombastic, but with style. It also is a preview of some of the internal conflict over creative control that led to their hiatus, and the lyrical and stylistic changes from the albums that came after it ended. You can almost divide FOB's sound into Before Folie a Deux and After Folie a Deux (others will argue that Infinity on High marks that change. I think it has a lot more in common with what came before than what came after, but that's just me. I could alternately see their career as 3 distinct eras with 1 being PR/EOwYG, TTtYG, FUtCT, 2 being IoH and FaD, and 3 being everything post hiatus thus far, but I digress even further...)
But there are so few artists out there that create an album with such a mishmash of songs and pull it off. I mean, the rock opera anthems, power ballads, funk, 60's and 70's pop and rock influences, and whatever the hell "20 Dollar Nosebleed" is (other than absolutely delightful, especially with Brendon's vocals in there merging beautifully with Patrick's)--ragtime? IDEK?
There's so much in these lyrics, from the self-aware struggle for authenticity given their wealth and fame ("Disloyal Order of Water Buffalo": imperfect boys/With their perfect ploys/Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy). Pete's self-destructiveness, tempered by impending fatherhood: ("She's My Wyonna:" The only thing suicidal here is the door/We had a good run/Even I have to admit/Life's just a pace-car on death/Only less diligent/Hell or Glory/I don't want anything in between/Then came a baby boy with long eyelashes/Daddy said, "you gotta show the world the thunder!"), and maybe bitterness over the mockery made of his suicide attempts ("West Coast Smoker:" Don't feel bad for the suicidal cats/Gotta kill themselves 9 times before they get it right.) The politically invective ("20 Dollar Nosebleed:" The man who would be king goes to the/Desert the same war his dad rehearsed/Came back with flags on coffins and said/We won, oh, we won). The absolute tragic (All of "27," really, but starting off rough with, If home is where the heart is/then we're all just fucked/I can't remember.) And the just plain fun ("w.a.m.s.:" My head's in heaven/My soles are in hell/Let's meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well, and the absurdly whimsicality of "20 Dollar Nosebleed's chorus," Ba ba ba ba Benzedrine, bla bla bla Benzedrine/Ba ba ba ba ba Benzedrine, ahh.
I understand how scary it can be as a fan of a particular musician or band when their sound changes. I get it in a very profound way I'll touch on later in a different post, because this one is getting out of hand. But if we insist on our artists never changing, then we're just going to stagnate right along with them. Growth and change can be painful, but it can lead to beautiful things. Folie a Deux was Fall Out Boy going through growing pains, as individuals in their personal and professional lives, and as artists, both together and separately. I am as thankful for it as I am for everything they've created and shared with us. Even the few songs of theirs that aren't to my tastes. Either you accept that you aren't interested in authenticity so much as playing to your expectations, or you can't yell at them about betraying you.
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dissectedgrrl · 6 months
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crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... Crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room with rats. and rats make me crazy. ... Crazy?
Nick and Amy will be gone. But then we never really existed. Nick loved a girl I was pretending to be. Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they?  As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She like what he likes. So, evidently, he’s vinyl hipster who loves fetish monger. If he likes girls gone wild, she’s a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at Hooters. When I met Nick Dunne, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I’ll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank canned beer watching Adam Sandler movies. I ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. I blew him… semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it… Nick teased out in my things I didn’t know existed. A lightness, a humour, an ease. But I made him smarter, sharper, I inspired him to rise to my level. I forged the man of my dreams.
We were happy pretending to be other people. We were the happiest people we knew. And what’s the point of being together if you’re not the happiest. But Nick got lazy. He became someone I did not agree to marry. He actually expected me to love him unconditionally then he dragged me, penniless, to the naval of this great country and found himself a newer, younger, bouncier Cool Girl. You think I’d let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? No fucking way. He doesn’t get to win!
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buggyrpt · 2 years
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i am so much happier now that im dead. technically missing. soon to be presumed dead. gone. and my lazy lying cheating oblivious husband will go to prison for my murder. nick dunne took my pride and my dignity and my hope and my money. he took and took from me until i no longer existed. thats murder. let the punishment fit the crime. to stage a convincing murder you need discipline. you befriend a local idiot. harvest the details of her humdrum life and cram her with stories about your husbands violent temper. secretly create some money problems. credit cards, perhaps online gambling. with the help of the unwitting bump up your life insurance. purchase getaway car. craigslist. generic. cheap. pay cash. you need to package yourself so that people will truly mourn your loss. and america loves pregnant women. as if it's so hard to spread your legs. you know whats hard? faking a pregnancy. first train your toilet. invite pregnant idiot into your home and ply her with lemonade. steal pregnant idiot's urine. viola. a pregnancy is now part of your legal medical record. happy anniversary. wait for your clueless husband to start his day. off he goes. and the clock is ticking. meticulously stage your crime scene. with just enough mistakes to raise the specter of doubt. you need to bleed. a lot. a lot a lot. a head wound kind of bleed. a crime scene kind of bleed. you need to clean. poorly. like he would. clean and bleed. bleed and clean. and leave a little something behind. a fire in july? and because you're you you don't stop there. you need a diary. minimum 300 entries on the nick and amy story. start with the fairy tale early days. those are true and crucial. you want nick and amy to be likeable. after that you invent. the spending the abuse the fear the threat of violence. and nick thought he was the writer. burn it just the right amount. make sure the cops will find it. finally honor tradition with a very special treasure hunt. and if i get everything right the world will hate nick for killing his beautiful pregnant wife. and after all the outrage when im ready i'll go out on the water with a pocketful of pills and a handful of stones. and when they find my body they'll know. nick dunne dumped his beloved like garbage. and she floated down past all the other abused unwanted inconvenient women. then nick will die too. nick and amy will be gone. but then we never really existed. nick loved a girl i was pretending to be. cool girl. men always use that dont they? as their defining compliment. she's a cool girl. cool girl is hot cool girl is game cool girl is fun. cool girl never gets angry at her man. she only smiles in a chagrinned loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. she likes what he likes. so evidently hes a vinyl hipster who loves fetish manga. if he likes girls gone wild shes a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at hooters. when i met nick dunne knew he wanted cool girl. and for him i'll admit i was willing to try. i wax stripped my pussy raw. i drank canned beer and watched adam sandler movies. i ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. i blew him. semi regularly. i lived in the moment. i was fucking game. i cant say i didnt enjoy some of it. nick teased out of me things i didnt know existed. a lightness a humor an ease. but i made him smarter. sharper. i inspired him to rise to my level. i forged the man of my dreams. we were happy pretending to be other people. we were the happiest couple i knew. and whats the point of being together if you're not the happiest. but nick got lazy. he became someone i did not agree to marry. he actually expected me to love him unconditionally. then he dragged me. penniless. to the navel of this great country. and found himself a newer younger bouncier cool girl. you think id let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? no fucking way. he doesn't get to win. my cute charming salt of the earth missouri guy. he needed to learn. grown ups work for things. grown ups pay. grown ups suffer consequences.
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murphycooper · 3 years
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everyone overanalyzing the shit out of “cas got in my room, played me and stole the colt from under my pillow” when in reality cas just used his Cool Girl™ skills and watched a shitty western with dean, drank cheap canned beer, gave him a blowjob and stole the colt
cas literally did the equivalent of: “oh my god dean you are SOOOOOO funny!!!” while slowly reaching for his pillow
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dollywaldorf · 2 years
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“Nick and Amy will be gone. But then we never really existed. Nick loved a girl I was pretending to be. Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they? As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She like what he likes. So, evidently, he’s vinyl hipster who loves fetish monger. If he likes girls gone wild, she’s a mall babe who talks football and endures buffalo wings at Hooters. When I met Nick Dunne, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I’ll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank canned beer watching Adam Sandler movies. I ate cold pizza and remained a size 2. I blew him… semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it… Nick teased out in my things I didn’t know existed. A lightness, a humour, an ease. But I made him smarter, sharper, I inspired him to rise to my level. I forged the man of my dreams.” - amy dunne (gone girl)
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scleramotif · 2 years
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Tom and Shiv will be gone. But then we never really existed. Tom loved a girl I was pretending to be. Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they? As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets a job that her man wants. She only smiles in a chagrin loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking. She likes what he likes. So, evidently, he’s midwestern businessman who loves business. If he likes girls gone business, she’s a businesswoman who talks business and endures ortolans at nice restaurants. When I met Tom Wambsgans, I knew he wanted a cool girl and for him, I’ll admit, I was willing to try. I wax stripped my pussy raw. I drank champagne watching his own press conferences. I ate cold pizza and remained hot. I blew him… semi regularly. I lived in the moment. I was fucking game. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it… Tom teased out in my things I didn’t know existed. A lightness, a humor, an ease. But I made him smarter, sadder, I inspired him to sink below my level. I forged the man of my dreams.
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padfootdaredmetoo · 3 years
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Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye
Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!
I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)
You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.
You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.
You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.
You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.
You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.
“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”
Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.
You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.
You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.
You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.
You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.
You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.
I guess Wade hasn't changed any.
You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.
“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.
“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”
“No problem”
You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.
“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.
“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.
“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.
“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”
“What the fuck Wilson?”
“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”
You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.
“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.
“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.
“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.
“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”
“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.
You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.
“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”
“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”
“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.
"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.
Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.
"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.
"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.
"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."
"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.
"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."
"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"
"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.
"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.
"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.
"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.
"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.
"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.
"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."
You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.
You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.
"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."
Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"
You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.
"Man this is the best sleepover ever."
"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.
"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.
"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.
"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"
"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.
"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.
"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"
"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.
You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.
"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"
You looked up to meet his eyes.
"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.
"Not really."
Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.
"You can take whatever you want baby"
******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************
That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.
Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.
He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.
You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.
“Stay”
God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.
“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.
His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.
“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.
“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.
“Yes please.” you answered politely.
“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”
“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”
He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.
“This normally doesn't end well for me.”
“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.
“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”
You snorted.
“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.
You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.
“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.
‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.
“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.
His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.
“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.
“Better now.” He whispered.
“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.
**********************************************************************
“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.
You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.
“I missed you.” you said softly
“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”
“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.
“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Thank you again for the request!!!! <3
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sullina · 2 years
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Hey what if Chandler and Cusack saw how much of an abusive piece of shit the DK was and decided that they would do everything in their power to protect Mel and Zel and basically kidnapped them as infants/children to raise them in a loving home somewhere in the human realm or something and half the Holy War was just the DK trying to get his pawns/weapons/sons back while the goddesses blew his constant invasions into the human, giant, and fairy realms out of proportion?
i'm just imagining like the DK reaching out his hands towards Cusak and Chandler and them repeatedly slapping his hands away XD
and of course, without Mel to pick them, the DK has to pick elite warriors themselves. (At least I'm pretty sure Mel is the one who picked them out. If not, I'm going with it anyway.)
The DK is impatient. There's only a few years where kids are impressionable enough to be manipulated easily, and time is slipping through his fingers. The warriors he picks are semi-decent, hastily chosen from strong families. Galand, being the mitochondria powerhouse that he is, makes it to the team. At first, he thinks the DK just wants his kids back, but questions as to why Chandler and Cusak ran away with them in the first place. The two caretakers are also demons, powerful ones, why would they disobey their ruler and creator?
Galand finds out why, when he hears the demon king mutter and pieces it together. And abuse of children, no matter the race, is a huge taboo for demons. Galand tells the other commandments, who have no choice but to believe Galand of Truth and from there the knowledge makes its way to the general folk, slowly turning the entire demon race against their king.
Meanwhile in Stigma, Ludociel conveniently fails to mention that the DK wants his kids back, saying that he wants to invade the fairy kings forest where they're stationed. Many who don't care enough (which is like 99% of them, also due to lack of information) buy it easily. Not Elizabeth. She knows where the DK invades regularly, and it's alway the same place, a village with no conceivable advantage in battle. It's one of the few human settlements still untouched by the war. Curious as to why the demon king of all people would want to take over, she investigates.
She discovers quickly that there are four demonic presences within the village. They were well-hidden, but as a high-ranking goddess (if not the strongest one) she can sense them anyway. They're just two kids and two elders. She figues the demon king would want his people back, but invading over and over, just for two children too young for war, and two doting elderlies? Seems fishy, but there's no way to find out more unless she talks to them.
And another detail: Without Chandler to cast absolute order, and the growing resentment against the demon king among demons, Elizabeths attempts at convincing the demons to turn back and stop the fighting are much more successful!
One who also makes it on the team of the TC is Gowther. He was always close to the royal family, and also saw the abuse second-hand, patching up wounds and bruises with magic and potions. Chandler and Cusak told the elder demon of their plans, and in fact, Gowther was the one to pick out the village they ended up staying in! Knowing that the TC are formed this time solely to get the two princes back, Gowther joins willingly and isn't imprisoned. It's the only way he gets to see the two princes, and he still makes doll Gowther to visit Chandler, Cusak, Mel and Zel under the radar.
And I just read that the DK also invades the other realms. And all I can picture is his gigantic body, only half fitting through the portal entrances (or whatever the different realms have as entrances) and going "Where the FUCK are my pawns I mean children." to whoever hears him and gets the f outta there real fast. Right after, swarms of demons trickle through (bc the DK is blocking like 90% of the entrance) to search the place before being beaten back by the resident warriors. In the case of the goddess realm, one random goddess goes "Bro, do you really think demons would even survive up here?" and DK responds "Do not question my judgement, puny goddess."
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