Tumgik
#add this to the list of how and why i got kicked out of the fandom
alfredsolos · 1 year
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Most people forget or ignore Duke Thomas, when they talk about the batfamily. And even the ones who include him say that he is the 'normal' one. Some people argue with that, and say that Duke is like the rest of the batkids with the example of him jumping out of a moving car and into a bridge.
Duke is way more than that. So, I complied a list of facts and feats of Duke Thomas. This will most likely be multiple parts.
Duke swear a lot.
Has a record of getting kicked out of schools.
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Knew Leslie Thompkins way before he met the batfamily. She is also the one who found him foster homes.
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His parents are jokerized, that's why he is put to foster homes. He also takes care of them in the mental hospital.
He doesn't trust the police.
He is very sarcastic. Especially to the cops.
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He jumped out of a moving police car and through a bridge. The reason why he was arrested is because he had wore red shoes. In those times, vigilantism was very illegal and appearently red was the symbol of Robin.
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One time, Bruce got amnesia. And Duke, to make him remember, pulled him and himself onto a railway and did not move even when he saw a train coming. Thankfully, Bruce snapped out and pulled them of the rails.
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His mom used to call him Babybird.
Some villains nicknamed him as Babybat.
He understands Joker in a way Bruce never did.
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He doesn't see himself apart of the Batfamily.
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His powers are: He can technically see peoples weak parts through how much power they concentrate to them. He can see glimpses of future, rewind the present time like a video. He has increased healing, super fast reflexes. He can see particles in substences. He can literally see light. He also has a bit of telepathic powers. He can speak and be seen on different frequencies, so he can be invisible or speak in a tone that no one would understand. Invisibility.
To add to it, he did not have shadow powers from birth. A supervillain, kind of mutated his genes so that he could control the darkness.
His mother had powers.
First time he went out as Signal, people hated him.
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He was The Signal, way before discovering his powers. He discovered his powers when his father tried to recruit him to his endeavours.
His father is a supervillain named Gnomon, and he has the same powers as Duke. Gnomon also had a picture of child Duke on his desk.
Bruce gifted him his own base of operation, called The Hatch.
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Bruce called him a gift to the city.
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He is good with Damian.
This is the end of Part 1. I'll continue in Part 2.
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soulprompts · 2 months
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HEROIC INTERVENTION. ( A PROMPT LIST! )
so i was writing this headcanon for one of my characters, and it got me thinking about how some characters are absolutely, to their very core, protectors, and even then they still need protecting! so i made this list which is similar to about five other memes i've made. feel free to add a "reverse" if you so wish! DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST NOR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN. THANK YOU.
FROM THE SENDER TO THE THREAT:
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " is there a problem over here? "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " can i help you with something? "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i think it's time you were leaving. "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " why don't you and i go outside for a sec? "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " you wanna tell me why you're hassling my friend? "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " you better start running before i really get pissed. "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i'm sure there's a rational explanation behind you upsetting this person? "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i hope you're not thinking of staying here a moment longer. "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " get out. "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " right, either you leave or i kick you out. your choice. "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i think it's fairly obvious my friend doesn't want anything to do with you, don't you? "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " leave them alone. now. "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " didn't you hear them? back off! "
[ TO THE THREAT ]: " don't even think of pretending you didn't hear me the first time: leave! "
FROM THE SENDER TO THE RECEIVER:
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " hey, are you okay? "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " don't worry. i'll take care of this. "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " why don't you go on out back? i got this, it's okay. "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " here. you go on into the car, alright? i'm right behind you. "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " is this person bothering you? "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " it's okay. hey, hey… look at me. they're gone. "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " hey… what's going on? what's wrong? i… has this person said something to you? "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " it's alright. the others just went out to the car; why don't you join them? i'll handle this. "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " hey, hey… talk to me, huh? what's the matter? you look like you've seen a ghost… who was that? "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " don't be scared. i'm going to take care of this. i promise. "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " you don't need to say anything. just nod if you want me to kick them out, okay? "
[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " you're alright. i'm right here, don't worry. and they'll be gone before you can blink, that's another promise. "
ACTIONS:
[ HAND ]: sender, having seen the receiver's encounter with the threat, gently takes the receiver's hand to assure them they aren't alone.
[ INTERVENE ]: sender wordlessly steps in between the receiver and the threat, facing the threat while shielding the receiver from them.
[ BLOCK ]: sender steps in between the receiver and the threat, this time facing the receiver while turning their back to the threat and blocking them from the receiver's line of sight.
[ BACK ]: sender places a protective and gentle hand on the receiver's back, preparing to guide them away from the threat.
[ DOOR ]: sender firmly but politely insists that the threat leave the building, and escorts them out of the door.
[ EXIT ]: sender physically catches hold of the threat and drags them away from the receiver, and outside of the building.
[ PUSH ]: sender places a careful hand on the threat to keep them at arm's length, and steps forward again to give the receiver more space between them and the threat.
[ SHOVE ]: sender runs over and forcefully shoves the threat back and away from the receiver.
[ SPACE ]: sender pushes between the receiver and the threat and begins to move forward, invading the threat's personal space as both a means of intimidation and a way of getting them away from the receiver.
[ DIVERT ]: sender arrives behind the threat and gains their attention, distracting them from the receiver so as to give them time to leave the area.
[ CLEAR ]: the sender firmly and clearly tells the threat that they are no longer allowed in the premises nor anywhere near the receiver.
[ ARM ]: sender wraps a protective arm around the receiver and guides them away from the threat and out of the premises.
[ PUNCH ]: the sender, having seen the receiver's reaction to the threat and the threat's lack of consideration, moves forward and punches the threat in the face.
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lunememes · 2 months
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🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ( a collection of unhinged and relatable things said on discord. feel free to change wording as needed! do not add to the list. )
❛  you know bullying is my love language and you’re still here so… ❜ ❛  i mean... who am i to say no to that. ❜ ❛  hey, some might be into that. i won’t judge. much. ❜ ❛  we can both be dumb but pretty. ❜ ❛  because you wanna know why? fictional men can't disappoint me like real life men can. ❜ ❛ i need someone that’d end the world for me.  ❜ ❛ can’t be sad with dick / pussy. or nice tits.  ❜ ❛  thinking of how they're all old in this movie like wow i love dilfs and milfs. ❜ ❛  he fucking is like a ROACH, CAN'T EVER GET RID OF HIM. ❜ ❛  [name] do not encourage their antics, I BEG OF YOU. ❜ ❛  don't bully me, i'll cry. ❜ ❛  [name]..... why are you such a people pleaser. ❜ ❛  i am an indecisive bitch okay. ❜ ❛  don't squish his TUMMY! ❜ ❛  fair enough but what did you do dumb bitch? ❜ ❛ i have a flyswatter, i will smack him.  ❜ ❛  oh god yeah, add that motherfucker as well... the hate list grows. ❜ ❛  he gets no peace in any universe. ❜ ❛  if they get hurt, they get hurt. ❜ ❛  no love… there is no love in this house. ❜ ❛  truly, the braincells are not in my head. ❜ ❛ i wanna grab his waist. ❜ ❛  they just… need to fuck the anger out. ❜ ❛  could be worse but i'm judging. ❜ ❛ yes, oil me up baby.  ❜ ❛  don't you shush me. ❜ ❛  how dare you make me NOT distracted. ❜ ❛  i'm sure you've seen each other naked before, this is nothing new. ❜ ❛  suffer. ❜ ❛  i ... fucking THIEF. ❜ ❛  old men are just superior. ❜ ❛  sometimes people just deserve to be stabbed. ❜ ❛  bisexuals don't sit normally. ❜ ❛  i never said i was smart. ❜ ❛  what am i to say about this? want me to kiss your booboos better? ❜ ❛  JOKES ON YOU, I ACTUALLY DO, AHAHAHAHA. ❜ ❛  we both know you have a mask kink. ❜ ❛  kick him six feet under. ❜ ❛  to be fair i only killed those at the gate. ❜ ❛  well sooooorry, can't all be goody-two-shoes like [name]. ❜ ❛  i'm gonna murder you. ❜ ❛  it's because you're OLD. ❜ ❛  we're just ... too nice for our own good. ❜ ❛  and then you got sweaty [name] out here going batshit crazy and killing a whole building of people. ❜ ❛  we are in fact too dumb and yet here we are. ❜ ❛  actually i'm a liar, i'd let a lot of men get it. ❜ ❛  oOP NOT ME SEEING ANOTHER VIDEO/PICTURE AND I THINK HE'S FINGERING HER. ❜ ❛  he's adorable when he isn't being a gremlin and trying to randomly bite me. ❜ ❛  it’s in my contract of existing to bully everyone. ❜ ❛  well clearly you enjoy it since you’re still here. ❜ ❛  feeling a little called out? ❜ ❛  anything can be a dildo if you're brave enough. ❜
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wynnyfryd · 2 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 45
part 1 | part 44 | ao3
Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.
He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...
One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'
They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.
"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."
Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.
"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."
Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.
"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."
Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"
Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"
"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."
Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.
They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.
"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.
Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."
"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.
Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"
"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"
"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.
Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.
The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.
part 46
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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“What do you write about?” Steve asks.
The question slips out on a summer night, the kind where the grass still holds a residual heat after the sun has set. They’re on that hill, the highest point in Hawkins—the one Dustin calls Weather-something. Eddie got a real kick out of hearing the name when they’d walked up here, laughing as they began an impromptu race to the top (“Not fair, you distracted me! Didn’t take you for a cheat, Harrington.”).
It feels special that they’re here, Steve thinks. That there’s even a hill to be on.
Eddie is plucking away at his acoustic guitar; he has a tell where he repeats a few meandering musical phrases, and Steve knows that there’s a song beginning to grow underneath his fingertips.
Eddie pauses mid-pluck of a string as he registers Steve’s question. He smiles, huffs almost fondly, “What a question, Steve.” Doesn’t even hesitate when he answers, “Just… good things, man. The things I love.”
Steve doesn’t know how he does it—just says that sort of stuff out in the open, like it’s nothing. Like it’s everything.
“Okay, but…” Steve pulls out a few blades of grass, smirks when they brush across Eddie’s bare ankle and he jumps slightly; it must tickle. “Like what?”
Eddie’s smile grows. “Why? You makin’ a list?” But before Steve can think of a reply, he adds, “Oh, y’know. Loads of things.” He gestures at their surroundings, winks. “Like… a summer day. And, well…” His eyes flicker to the town below them. He shrugs, but it comes across as a painful attempt at looking casual. “Hawkins, I guess.”
“Why?” Steve says, can’t stop himself.
How can you still… Don’t you hate it? I fucking hate it, sometimes.
Because, in the end, it wasn’t The Upside Down that had almost killed Eddie. Not really.
It was people.
Eddie is staring at him. He sets the guitar aside, leaning forward and peering at Steve like he’s doing something particularly fascinating.
“You’re angry.”
Steve shakes his head reflexively, feels a prickle of defensiveness. He keeps his voice as even as he can when he says, “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, you are,” Eddie says softly. Something must show on Steve’s face because he amends, “Like, not… Don’t worry. Not a loud anger.”
Eddie says things like that sometimes, things that bring Steve up short. He wonders, not for the first time, if Eddie’s dad was loud in his anger.
“You know how I know?” Eddie is so close now that Steve can see where the bridge of his nose has been turned red by the sun. “Your eyes, Steve. They burn. What’s all that about, huh?” He throws in a little playful tone at that, but when Steve doesn’t smile, he sobers. “Just… seems like a lotta energy, is all.”
He doesn’t say it, but Steve can hear it. Hates that he can hear it.
Seems like a lot of energy to waste on me.
“I just—” Steve sighs, casts a glance at the landscape down below. Works his jaw. He’s no good at this, he thinks. The words get stuck. They almost took everything from you.
But Eddie just smiles back like he gets it, like he can hear Steve, too.
“Everything’s a mix of good and bad, right? One doesn’t, like, cancel out the other. Not always.”
And Steve hears I hate it sometimes, too. But that can’t stop my love.
Steve tries again. “It’s just…” He turns away from Hawkins, looks right into Eddie’s eyes. “Eddie. You deserve… better.”
Eddie’s expression softens. He leans closer still. “You’ve got a big heart, Steve Harrington.”
And then…
He kisses Steve on the cheek, chaste and sweet, lips still warm from a day in the sun.
“You’re one of my good things,” Eddie whispers.
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kentosovertime · 1 month
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(n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are
toji x afab!reader, fiance!megumi - 2.7k words
A/N: here's a comeback fic for my blog resurrection, had this idea before I stopped writing and FINALLY got to it, enjoy~
CW: explicit content, explicit language, age gap, revenge cheating, manipulation, humiliation, dubcon language, your dad will do, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding, non consensual videotaping at the end, anger issues (rip the reader)
✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box | Open Request Event | AO3 | Ko-Fi✨
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“For fucks sake!” You screech, the sound of your rage swallowed by a bus that screams by the side of the road as you slam the hood of your smoking car shut. 
“At least it’s not in flames-” Starts a random passerby walking their dog, but is sent running when you send them a withering glare. After the weekend you’ve had and it’s only Friday night?
You open your phone, your glare turning to the long list of outgoing calls to every hotel within an hour of your apartment, all booked to no vacancy for a local festival. Your landlord really picked the perfect weekend to kick all their tenants out for “emergency” maintenance for an issue that was reported months ago. 
Someone must have threatened to report the living conditions, as his attitude quickly changed when he offered to reimburse the hotel costs if his tenants were forced to stay at one. 
Your gaze softens as you scroll through those calls to where Megumi contacted you, letting you know he had made it to the martial arts competition he was coaching this weekend. His soft spot and skill for taking care of children was what initially drew you to him, but right now you wished more than anything you could press on his name and he could come to your rescue like always. 
Calling a tow truck to bring your car to the mechanics wasn’t necessarily the issue… but being on the streets for the next couple nights was. With your car in this condition, it wasn’t like you could sleep in it, given your inability to find even a shity motel room in the worst part of town. 
You take a moment to mourn the fact that you didn’t move closer to where your family lives before realizing you really only have one option in front of you; Toji. 
The contact information for your boyfriend's father mocks you on the screen, daring you to call him, a perfect stranger, to come and save your ass. The lack of familiarity wasn’t based on a lack of effort on your part, having tried repeatedly to get Megumi to open up about his family. The most that you were able to glean was that his mother had passed away and his father wasn’t often present. 
“Hello?” A gruff voice answers on the first ring. You didn’t even realize you had pressed his number before he was on the line. “Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro? This is Megumi’s fiance…” An awkward, lasting silence stretches out between the two of you before you clear your throat and try again. “I’m very sorry to bother you, but Megumi is out of town and m-my car is billowing smoke a-and all the hotels are booked-” 
Toji smirks as you ramble, rather cutely he may add, grabbing his wallet and keys before he’s even told you yes to both of your requests. He chuckles under his breath as you struggle to not fill the silence, letting your words hang in the air again. 
“I’m on my way,” He hums as he twists the keys in the ignition of his car. “Get your stuff out of the car in case it explodes.” 
He barks out a laugh as he hangs up and hears a distressed noise of dismay leave your throat. You’re so easily worked up, he wonders if this is why Megumi has done everything in his power to prevent the two of you from meeting… a valid concern. Considering how that ex of his used to try to hang off of Toji. He shudders in disgust at the memory of the girl, still in high school and thinking she was worth a second glance. 
Something tells him you’d be a prettier sight. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
This is why Megumi has been telling you no… It takes everything in you to keep your jaw snapped shut as you watch his father prowl up to where you're standing over your suitcase on the sidewalk, nervously glancing at the vehicle he made seem may blow up at any second. 
You approach the car hesitantly when he waves you over, shocked that your legs work from how tightly your wound. He opens up the hood to take a look at what’s causing the smoke while you wait for your tow. 
“Here, sweetheart.” It only takes him a second to point out what's wrong with your engine, gently redirecting your finger when you point to an area in question. “I wouldn’t hold out too much hope that this is worth fixing… you may be looking at a new set of wheels.” 
Anger and frustration well up in you again, even as a flush of heat cascades down your spine at the small touch of his skin on yours. You’re thankful for the distraction the anger provides, given the other option is avoiding looking at how his tight black t-shirt stretches across his torso or drooling like a pitiful little girl. Your fiance is attractive, but there’s still a softness to his face. He lacks the hard planes and sharp angles his father possesses. 
“One thing at a time.” Toji squeezes your shoulder with a smirk, leading closer than he should. How is he supposed to help himself when you seem ready to snap with how tightly you’ve wound yourself? The tension in your back only winds further with how he kneads your skin. “If you need it, I’ll pitch in to help Megumi get you around for a bit.” 
Your mouth opens to stutter out a reply… or maybe a denial for such an open ended offer, but the horn of the tow truck stops you. 
“Let me handle that.” He hums. “I wouldn’t want the tow truck driver to try to take advantage of you.” 
Watching him leave, you pull the phone from your pocket, sending Megumi a quick update about where you’re going before your phone dies. You shove it back into its spot after you’ve powered it off, saving what’s left of the battery for when you’re able to dig out your phone charger. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Toji holds the door to his house open for you, bracing his hand on the small of your back as you cross the threshold to a surprisingly tasteful living room. 
“What?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, the shock must be written all over your face. “Expect a futon couch and a mattress on the floor?” 
“M-Maybe..” You rub your neck with a sheepish look, managing a small chuckle as he leads you down the hall to what you assume is the room you’ll be using. “Something about unmarried men and the lack of dining room tables and living out of laundry baskets.” 
The drive over had taken longer than you expected, he lives on the edge of the city, the houses given more space than what you’re used to from your apartment in the city. But it had given you the opportunity to partially acclimate to his overwhelming presence. All you had to do was not look at his face… easy. 
“I did have a wife.” He hums in thought. “The art of furnishing a house isn’t lost on me… Anyway.. This one is you.” He flicks on the light as he enters the spacious room, moving until he gets to another door, turning that light on too, the cocky humor back on his face by the time he turns back to you with a playful glint in his eyes. 
“You have your own bathroom… shower head’s detachable.”  He tacks on, watching you empty your overnight bag, setting your night clothes out before you turn your phone back on and get it attached to a charger.
“That’s not- I wouldn’t-” A shocked squeak flies from your throat as your eyes widen in embarrassment. 
“Your face is…” He howls in laughter. “Absolutely priceless. My room is down the hallway, last door on the right. In case you need me.”
“I-” His tone drips with innuendo, making the blush on your face deepen to a shade of crimson. So much for not thinking about him inappropriately. 
“So innocent, sweetheart. You’d think you’re still a virgin.” You watch in mortification as your future father-in-law leans cockily against the door jam to your bathroom, your mouth opening and closing, urging something to come out, an explanation, a lie, anything. Just something to make him not make fun of you. “Oh my god… you are. Even when you’re engaged to my son?” 
“He…” You wring your hands together, your voice barely above a mumble, looking down at your engagement ring in confusion, as if it could tell you the Toji’s lying to you. “He said he wanted to wait until w-we were married. That he’d wait…” 
He never said that it would be his first time, you realize. As quickly as your embarrassment comes, it's replaced with a low, burning fit of rage that’s ready to lash out. 
“Wait! You thought Megumi was a virgin?” He snickers meanly. “That’s fucking rich, hun. That ship sailed in fucking high school.” 
You listen, shaking with the anger that’s boiling inside of you, as he describes Megumi’s relationship with a girl named Himari, how he walked in on them more than once. 
Your mind starts to spin in circles, fueled by this rage that has nowhere to go. As insufferable as Toji is about this, you find your anger can’t be directed at him. It's Megumi that lied to you for the entire duration of your relationship, not his father. 
As your mind circles, every insecurity that you’ve had about your relationship that you so easily dismissed before bubbles to the surface one by one. He’s always working or volunteering somewhere. The apartment has just become a place that he sometimes sleeps, if he ever makes it home because he travels around so often. He even said he didn’t like his father. Admittedly, you can see how they would clash, but was that it? Or did he just not want you to meet Toji so his cover wouldn’t be blown?
Toji approaches you, leaning into that delicious anger to purr in your ear. “I could show you what you’re missing, sweetheart…” 
Your body doesn’t flinch as your eyes slide to meet his gaze directly for the first time. You nod ever so slightly in consent, your breath uneven from the anticipation that’s built in your core from when you first saw him. 
“I’m going to need a little more than a nod, swe-” It’s the spite that pushes you to kiss him first. Spite that doing this will hurt Megumi has much as he hurt you, and spite that if you have to hear Toji call you sweetheart one more fucking time you’d explode. 
The groan you swallow from Toji as he presses against you wipes any doubt from your mind as you press against his broad chest to push him to the guest bed and crawl up his body to grind yourself into the bulge in his pants, hungrily seeking out his lips again. 
“Eager little virgin, aren’t we?” He growls as he yanks your head back by your hair, baring your neck to him so he can nip at it. The lack of marks there by his son is a further invitation to take you for himself. 
“Ah-! Mr. Fushi-” A whimper escapes your mouth as he carelessly shoves a hand beneath the band of your leggings and panties and you squirm to pull away as his fingers immediately shove past your entrance to scissor you open. 
“Uh uh. That’s enough of that shit.” He bites a harsh mark into the juncture of your neck, grinning when you cry out with a mixture of pain and pleasure, fat tears welling in your eyes and spilling over, your core spasming around his digits he continues to bully into you. “I’m not fucking stopping until your dripping, sweetheart. I’m going to have you crying that its too much and I’m not going to fucking stop. Even if you beg.”
It stings, the foreign feeling inside of you, but that feeling is quickly replaced by a rapidly approaching orgasm. You can take him, you think as you reach down between you to palm him through his sweatpants. You’re ready for anything he could give you. 
Your efforts leave you breathless and end with you managing to work his pant’s down his legs as he rips your leggings from your body along with your panties. 
“Fuck-” He growl as you take ahold of his length and line him up with your entrance as you hover above him. “You better slow down or you’ll hurt yourself.”
“You’re too cocky for your own- oh fuck-” You hiss as you allow the head of his cock to breach your entrance. The sting returns and flares into white hot heat at your core, making you double over into his chest as each inch rips its way into you. Your hips rock needily into him, trying with desperate circles to work yourself open. 
By the third circle of your hips, Toji loses his patience. His hands reach out to grapple your hips, using his momentum to flip the two of you before he thrusts violently into you, fully seating himself before pulling from your heat to slam home again. 
“Broken in now, aren’t you?” He growls, slamming into you a few more times before the sting completely abates, making sure you really feel what he’s taking from you. “Took what you wanted like a greedy fucking whore. Now shut the fuck up and be thankful I’m giving you my cock.” 
He pulls out of you to manhandle you until your chest is laying against the covers, wasting no time before he’s hauling your hips back into where he kneels behind you, entering you roughly again and setting a punishing pace. 
“You take me like a trained bitch.” He pants, grunting as his hips slap against yours, sending the vibrations straight to your clit as you sob into the duvet. “You lying about this being your first time?” 
You don’t answer, your face planted into the covers from the angle he has you bent into. Toji growls in annoyance, gathering your arms behind you to pull you up against his chest before his free hand snakes around your front to deliver a harsh slap to your center, ripping a scream from you.
“Go on slut. Answer, daddy.” He slaps your clit again and you feel yourself gush around his length, pushed to the edge. 
“M’not lying, Mr. Fushigur-” Another slap has you trembling, fresh tears pouring down your cheeks as you build impossibly higher. “D-Daddy- M’not you just f-feel s’good. I’ve b-been wet since you showed up.”
“Greedy little thing’s so ignored by Megumi you have to result to fucking his dad?” He coos down at you condescendingly, degrading you further. His voice takes on a cruel tone as he starts circling your clit. “How are you going to explain to your precious fiance that you’re carrying his brother?” 
“W-What- n-no T-Toji you c- shit!” You cum suddenly around him, the image of you leaking his cum banging around your head until you're clamping so hard around him you’re pulling his orgasm from him. Shivers wrack your body as you feel the ropes of his cum pump into you and leak from where you’re connected.  
The two of you breathe heavily, your panting filling the room as you come down from your highs. In your haze you don’t notice Toji video taping his cock pulling out of your cunt or the cum that gushed out in its wake before playfully slapping your ass and walking into the guest bathroom to get you a towel. 
You slump against the covers, wincing as you reach for your phone when you see the screen go off with worried messages from Megumi about being near his father. Followed by numerous missed calls with the same message, pleading with you not to stay with him. That he’d rush home tonight to help you so you didn’t have to stay there. 
You scowl at the message, sending off something that gets right to the point. 
<Who’s Himari?>
You decline the immediate litany of frantic calls, fully shutting off your phone and shuffling out of bed to join Toji in the bathroom. Maybe the shower could be round two… and if not, you’d happily sneak into the master bedroom to make that a reality.
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tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210@rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems [[if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]
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its-time-to-write · 8 months
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jamie and reader used to date before he went back to his old team and broke reader’s heart 💔 now he’s back and wants reader back ANGST AND FLUFF PLEASEEE
I’ve been thinking about this request since FOREVER so I hope I did it justice!!
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wonder what it’d be like
You don’t get paid enough for this shit.
“So you do know Jamie Tartt?” asks some journalist doing some piece on some footballer crap. You don’t know and you don’t care.
“If you’re not going to order anything, I’m going to get my boss and have you removed from the premises,” you reply, undeterred in your mission to wipe down empty tables. Brian loves his coffee shop and is fiercely protective of both his employees and his peaceful atmosphere. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked someone out.
“Well, do you have any comment on the fact that he said you were the love of his life?”
You don’t miss a beat. “No I do not. Can I get you any coffee or should I get Brian?”
The journalist declines both, and is out the door.
Fucking Jamie Tartt. What does he even think he’s doing? How did you even come up in an interview? Was the question, who, Jamie Tartt, is the greatest love of your life?
(You’d find out later that yes, that was the question. The journalist was looking for an answer like “Keeley Jones,” or “Kiera Knightley,” something a little spicy.)
It doesn’t matter, the journalist (you think his name was Trent) is gone and you can go back to making coffee and chatting with the regulars.
You should have known that wasn’t the end of it.
God, why can’t you just work in peace? You have enough on your plate, between homework and student loans and the person who’s complaining that their iced coffee is “too cold.” 
You don’t need to add “prick footballer ex-boyfriend,” to the list.
But he seems bound and determined to add himself to your list of things to take care of, with the way he’s following you around as you hand people their orders.
“Trent said you wouldn’t talk to him,” he says.
He takes your silence as license to keep going. “Why didn’t you just take the money? Can’t be making much here.”
Do not let him get to you, you remind yourself. Do not sink to his level.
So you just shrug. “I’m not one of those people who fucks a famous footballer just for the money. Now I’m going to give you the same choice I gave that goddamn reporter: you can get a coffee or you can get. Out.”
So Jamie leaves.
It figures that your ex would find some way to make your life hell. Sure, you’ve gotten mostly over him and you have your own life and you’re on your way to becoming an accountant because numbers are fun and numbers don’t break your heart. So of course, now is when he decides to show up and have journalists poking around.
But you refuse to talk about him with anyone. It’s rude, in your opinion. It devalues your old relationship and yourself and you won’t do it.
So instead you stay after hours, going over finances at the café while Brian and his boyfriend chatter softly and try new coffee combinations.
You laugh as they bicker and and sip everything they set before you, grateful that you don’t have to think about the day Jamie got signed to Manchester City and decided that he was too good for you.
Unfortunately, you have to go home at some point, which means you’re wide awake in your bed, flatmates all asleep leaving you to replay that whole terrible day.
(He said, “It ain’t gonna work, babe, I’m in the Premier League now and I should be with someone who’s at my same level.”
You said, “Don’t call me babe.”
He said, “Don’t waste any tears over me, I won’t be crying so you shouldn’t either.”
You said, “I sure as hell won’t cry over a heartless dick like you.”
He said, “That’s a heartless Premier League dick to you.”
And that was it. A year-long relationship and four year-long friendship down the tubes.)
The article hits the papers and now you’re constantly being harassed by journalists. 
You read it, the part about you. It was written in interview format, with a bolded question and then Jamie’s response. It was like a glimpse into his personal life, who he was outside the pitch.
Jamie, you’ve had an astonishing career at such a young age, and made a name for yourself both on and off the pitch. Your name has been in the tabloids with many famous models and actresses in the few short years you’ve played in the Premier League. So my question is, in the history of your romantic entanglements, who is the absolute love of your life?
In your opinion, it was a long lead-up to a short question. 
Jamie’s response was two words. Your first and last name.
That fucker.
It makes work so bad that you had to hide in the back while Brian tells people to leave.
You apologize profusely once everything’s closed and everyone’s gone. 
“I’ll give you my official notice and everything, and I can still help out with finances if you want,” you say. “I’m- not trying to be annoying, but the extra money would be really helpful while I look for another job.”
Brian shakes his head. “I’m not firing you, kid,” he says. “It’ll die down. And Caleb and I are happy to have you over for dinner if you want to talk about it.”
You’re so relieved and grateful that you hug him.
It’s late again. You’re in your kitchen. All three of your flatmates are out and will be gone until the morning, so you have the flat all to yourself. You’ve lit some candles and turned on the soft lights, and are criss-cross on the counter listening to Fleetwood Mac with brownies in the oven.
You allow yourself to think about some of the questions that were thrown at you throughout the day.
How long have you known Jamie Tartt?
When was the last time you spoke?
Are you still friends?
You shake your head. Weird.
There’s a knock at the door. Even weirder. You’re not expecting anyone.
You hop down and pad down the hall, standing on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. It’s Jamie. You make a face, double-check that the door is locked, and turn back to the kitchen. 
“I know you’re there,” Jamie calls through the door. “I can see the light on, and your car’s out front. I just want to talk.”
You’re not going to open the door, but then he calls your name and you’re rooted to the floor.
You open the door just enough so you can look at him, but not enough that he thinks he can come inside.
“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me other than an apology, especially after the day I’ve had,” you say, more fire in your voice than you remembered you had.
The fire dies when you get a good look at Jamie’s face.
It’s different.
He looks… forlorn, almost?
“I do, I do have an apology,” he says. There’s no malice, no conniving look on his face. 
You say, “Ok,” in a tone so soft that Jamie could almost forget the anger you just held.
“Look,” he begins, but is cut off by your timer beeping in the kitchen. You sigh. 
“I have to get those,” you say. “Can’t burn down the flat. Do you… do you want to come in? Just for a minute.”
Jamie nods and follows you inside, closing the door behind him.
He follows you to the kitchen, close on your heels, where you motion for him to sit while you take out the brownies. 
“Right,” he says once you’re leaning on the counter across from him. “Look- I was a prick. I thought I was fucking special because my right foot was kissed by god. I didn’t know how to fucking handle it so I acted like a prick. And I never said I’m sorry.” He takes a breath. “Keeley’s always talkin’ about accountability, so… here I am. Taking fucking accountability.”
You just look at him.
“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” he hurriedly continues. “Just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you.”
You’re still not talking, so Jamie gets up.
“Right,” he says. “Right. I’m going to leave ya now. Got fucking trainin tomorrow.”
He’s halfway down the hall when he turns and says, “Oh, by the way, I called your uni. Paid the rest of your tuition, gave them some extra in case you decide you want to keep going.” Then he turns around again and actually heads to the door.
For a moment, you’re too shocked to even move but the magnitude of what he just said sinks in.
“OI,” you bellow. Jamie freezes, hand on the door handle. 
“Get. Back here,” you say, voice tight.
“Jamie,” you say once he’s sitting again, “you can’t just pay my student loans. The whole reason I never talk to the press about you is because I don’t want to be like those people who just, like, use you for your money. I had it handled and I don’t need you thinking that I’m just- just- using you. And fuck off with saying that shit in a magazine,” you continue, “You can’t just use me to make yourself more family-friendly. Saying that you like the girl who works in a fucking coffee shop so she can get through school and become an accountant. I mean, what the fuck? Just say it was a model or an actress or something, but don’t use me, because I never used you.”
Jamie shakes his head. “But it’s not like that,” he says earnestly. “I know what you’re like. I know it ain’t about the money. That’s why I said what I said. You really are the love of me life.”
You’re silent, analyzing his face. There’s nothing that indicates he’s lying, and if you can claim to know Jamie at all, you’d have to admit that this might be the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.
All you can manage is a weak, “Oh.”
“I’m really, really sorry.”
“Yeah,” you reply, “you keep saying that. I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with you.”
Jamie nods. “Yeah, no I get that, yeah. Right. I’m not looking for that. I just needed you to know.”
You’re both silent for an awkward moment.
“Right,” Jamie says again. “Guess I’d better go. I’ll see you around, I guess.”
You nod, letting Jamie see himself out.
“So, you’re not taking him back?”
“Brian,” you say, “why the absolute fuck would I do that?”
He laughs. “I don’t know, if I had some handsome, rich young footballer come to me with an apology that I didn’t ask for, I’d’ve snapped him right up!”
“Don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” you warn.
Brian laughs again. “Oh hon, he’s heard me say so much worse.”
You snort then turn back to the column of numbers in front of you. It’s bright and early, thirty minutes before opening. That gives you twenty minutes to finish what you’re doing before sneaking out the back door. You’re scribbling in the margins in blue glitter pen when there’s a knock on the glass door. You frown.
“Who on earth is knocking?” you ask.
Brian shrugs. “No idea,” he replies as he goes to look.
The frown stays affixed to your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Brian just lied.
He’s back a moment later.
“Think these are for you,” he says, arm full of flowers.
You drop your pen.
“What the hell,” you whisper. 
Brian just grins and places them on the table. “A nice young man in a pink tracksuit dropped them off. Said to give them to you and that he’ll have more tomorrow.”
“Fucker,” you hiss.
“Me or him?”
You glare. “Both. Either. I don’t care. Take these home to Caleb or put them around the shop. I’m leaving.”
You shuffle your papers together and flee the coffee shop, door banging behind you.
“Twat,” you whisper to no one in particular. 
Jamie’s delivered flowers every day for a week and a half and you’re not sure how he manages it, but he always avoids being caught by you. You’re not sure why he’s delivering them to your place of work, but you have a hunch that somehow, somehow Brian and Caleb are in on it.
It’s fucking annoying, really. They’re so beautiful and in all your favorite colors and you’re absolutely pissed off that he still knows anything personal about you.
You’re even more pissed off that you like it.
I mean, come on, he has your forgiveness; what more does he want?
The worst part is you actually miss him. You miss the Jamie you dated, the one you fell in love with but are not particularly fond of the Jamie who dumped you when he got signed for Man City. What’s to stop him from doing that again?
You decide you’re going to talk to him.
Brian brings in a particularly large bunch the next day and you’re on your feet in a flash. You’re out the door before he can ask where you’re going, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows. 
You look up and down the street. You know Jamie couldn’t have gotten far. 
You catch a flash of blonde hair zipping away to your right. 
“TARTT,” you bellow.
The blonde hair freezes as you march up the street.
Jamie turns and grins sheepishly, “Hey, love,” he says.
“Stop bringing me flowers. It’s fucking annoying.”
It might be Jamie’s imagination, but there seems to be slightly less rage in your eyes today.
“Thought you liked that sort of thing,” he says.
“I do,” you say, “usually. When I know why it’s happening. I don’t know why you’re doing it. You already paid my student loans and apologized. I don’t really know what else you want from me.”
“A second chance,” Jamie says promptly. “I weren’t kidding in the article. You can tell me to fuck off right now and I’ll leave you alone. Can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you again, but I can fucking guarantee it won’t be on purpose.”
You’re silent, giving Jamie the tiniest spark of hope.
“Fuck you,” you finally say. Jamie raises an eyebrow as you glare at him. “Fuck you for actually fucking changing. And for making me love you again. You’re all I can fucking think about and it’s been driving me crazy, and Brian’s been no help with all his, ‘you should call him,’ and ‘he seems like a good lad.’ He’s fucking right and I’m fucking mad about it.”
“Yeah?” Jamie asks, “Why don’t you tell me more over dinner tonight? I’ll take you on a proper date.”
You actually smile at him for the first time in ages. “Alright,” you reply, “one date. One. We’ll see where it goes from there.”
Jamie doesn’t care. You’re smiling, which means he’s already won the whole fucking thing. He’s yours again, and he’s not going to fuck it up.
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Am I the asshole for intentionally starting a fight with a friend of mine so that I can show everyone else how much of an attention seeking bitch she is
My (16 f) friend group is collectively obsessed with playing an obscure online game together, and in order to make it more convenient they made a group chat which they forgot to add me into. I heard about it from a friend who assumed that I was in it and asked to be a part of it because I liked the game as well, she told me she would add me. Later that week I was on a FaceTime call with some of my friends and the group chat was referenced by someone so I pointed out that I still hadn’t been added. The next day I was finally added and everything was normal until my friend (15 f) lets call her Jane said something along the lines of “why is she here” then immediately took me out of the group chat. I couldn’t get in contact with her as she had blocked me so I called my other friend (15 f) lets call her B who was still in the group chat and asked her what was happening. Jane said that she removed me because I kept saying I hated her this was an inside joke that she would participate in and found funny, it was very over the top and obviously a joke and she had never said anything to me about being uncomfortable. B explained this but she wouldn’t listen and kept telling everyone in the group chat lies about how I was a horrible person and that I essentially relentlessly bullied her. I was eventually added back and started to tell everyone that this was a lie, a bunch of people started to take her side, and I got pretty pissed off because no one was listening to me. I started cussing her out and calling her a bitch (she is) and it started getting out of hand because, one everyone was already on her side, and two my phone was pretty broken at that time so their was a lot of miscommunication between me and the group chat. for example one of my friends kept shoving themselves into the argument and not listening to anything I say, so I told her to shut the fuck up and stay out of things she didn’t understand, unfortunately as that text was sending another friend, K asked what was happening and that text sent first so I looked like I had cussed her out for asking a question, before I could explain this I was kicked from the groupchat, I tried to call K but she didn’t answer me and ignored me when I tried to explain myself through text. The next day pretty much the whole friend group was giving me the cold shoulder and not speaking to me, for most people this went away the day after but one of my friends hasn’t looked at me the same since.
We had managed to mainly move past this whole thing until Jane was complaining in a group chat about our chorus teacher (who I love) and I asked her (politely) to stop being negative and not to vent in the group chats. She started going at me and saying how I always start drama and am horrible to her. She brought up the last fight we had had which I thought was really uncalled for and she made it into this whole thing.
She kept constantly causing drama in group chats and getting into fights with people for stupid reasons almost every night. I was tired of people defending her and her constantly trying to turn our friends against me and since some people where already getting annoyed with her I decided to start a fight with her so people would stop talking to her giving her less of a chance to try to ruin my life.
She loved making friend group cast list for random musicals and such that she liked and always put herself as the lead and gave people parts that made them uncomfortable (miss gendering them, giving bigger people fat characters regardless of their personality etc). She had made a mean girls recast where she was Regina (she’s a bitch but she’s not Regina) even though it was a common joke in the friend group that me and two of our friends were the plastics with me as Regina. I had been told by my other friend, L not to bring this up because l, k, and Jane had all recently auditioned for mean girls the musical and only L got in (I would normally listen to this but she wouldn’t let L be happy about getting in and constantly guilt tripped her about it). So naturally I brought it up and got her to start fighting about it, I wanted to have a fight with her were I was more in control of the situation then she was (in earlier fights she would say things she knew would make me mad to get people to see me as in the wrong for being the unreasonable and angry one while she was calm). I kept bringing up that I should be Regina because I am the friend groups resident lesbian in a kind off joking way that I know can really get under peoples skin (I know that this is manipulative but she was manipulating me to get mad and act unreasonable so I decided to do the same and give her a taste of her own medicine) especially since she was the kind off person isn’t exactly homophobic but makes me and some of our other queer friends really uncomfortable with her jokes. She brought up that she had had a crush on a girl once (she had brought this up before as being a joke) to try to make herself out to be queer to win the argument. This made me uncomfortable and when I (and some of my other queer friends) tried to tell her that she just ignored me. I just want to say that I don’t actaully care this much about being Regina I just wanted everyone to see how horrible and attention seeking she is.
Personally I think I am kind of the asshole in a Justified way (I forget what that’s called) but I’m not sure
What are these acronyms?
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cassolotl · 11 months
Text
Results of the nonbinary name survey
Hi folks, just thought I'd throw together a quick report about nonbinary names based on the recent survey.
The survey ran from 4th until 13th May, and there were 5,179 usable responses. For this one I won't share the full spreadsheet of all responses, as it contains potentially identifying information. Having said that, you can find a spreadsheet of the information I can share with you here. Every name entered only once has been redacted.
Most popular names
Let's kick it off with the main reason I did this survey, finding the nonbinaryest name:
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Alex was #1, with 1.6%, which is 1 in 62 nonbinary people.
Here's the full top 10:
Alex - 1.6% (83)
Jay - 1.2% (64)
Sam - 0.9% (49)
Charlie - 0.7% (36)
Max - 0.7% (36)
Ash - 0.6% (33)
Robin - 0.6% (33)
Rowan - 0.6% (31)
Kit - 0.6% (30)
Eli - 0.6% (29)
Name length
I'm familiar with the stereotype that nonbinary people choose names by taking 3 letters from a bag of Scrabble tiles, or that nonbinary people take letters off their given names until it's one ungenderable syllable, and I would like to take this opportunity to add that these are both excellent ways to create new names. :D
This graph takes a rolling median name length from the whole list, and it shows that generally speaking the most popular names tended to be shorter:
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The average name length was 5.1 characters long.
This seems to support the stereotypes, but I feel it's worth mentioning that we can't know for sure whether it actually does, because for all we know, binary people's names might show these kinds of patterns too.
Number of names per person
Participants could enter as many names as they wanted, in a list separated by commas. That made it pretty easy to count them, and it turned out like this:
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That's fairly straightforward, most people have only one name.
Problems with survey design
Overall I definitely feel that the survey had some flaws. I knew in advance that there would be some people who have more than one name that they like more or less equally, but for some reason the first question I came up with assumed that you have one name that you like most and then required a single answer from a list stating how that name happened to you - leading the respondent to a different section based on that answer.
What if you've got two or more names that you like equally, and one was given to you by your parents when you were born that you use for work, one is a nickname based on that name that evolved between you and your family and friends as you were growing up, and one is a name you chose yourself and your closest friends call you that? That's pretty much an impossible question, isn't it?
And there were several other questions in the survey that took that approach, making the data from those questions basically useless.
I didn't think it would cause problems for so many people, but it did, and I have learned my lesson there.
However, there was a question asking you to list all your names, and that's what I used to make the ranked list. I don't see how people with more than one name that they prefer completely equally (i.e. those people who would be thrown out of the survey by an impossible required first question) would prefer different names from people with one name only, so I think the ranked list is probably approximately okay, and same for the number of names per person graph and the average name length.
Implications
I haven't decided yet, but I definitely think there's scope for doing this survey annually - but separately from the identity/titles/pronouns survey, for anonymity reasons. It could be fun to track popular nonbinary names over time, similar to the popular name lists for babies that are usually split by boys'/girls' names. It might be a bit meaningless unless I collect country data as well though, which is why the list currently reads very....... American..........
Now that I've learned a lot from a big and not-so-well-designed survey run on my personal account, I'd feel more comfortable designing something a bit more fit for purpose, and running it from the @gendercensus accounts to hopefully get more participants.
~ Fin ~
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promptful · 2 years
Text
Oddly obscure Friends-to-Lovers prompts that I'll probably add to.
I'm uh, sorry? Requests are open, and please do not add to this list. I'm sure I have more somewhere in my brain, lol.
WARNINGS: Mention of drowning, mention of death, possible cursing. Alcohol.
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SCENARIOS
1) We’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. Your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
2) We both just got off work, and I’m walking you home just like any other night, you trip on an unfortunate pebble. Just before you hit the ground, I caught you with one arm around your waist.
3) Throughout our childhood, it was always you getting sick, never me. You nearly passed out next to me with fevers higher than imaginable, but I was fine. Now, I’m bedridden and you won’t stop freaking out.
4) This is your favorite song, and apparently there’s an option to sing a duet. Oh… you want me to sing? It’s a love song? We’ll be right next to each other? Oh. Okay. 
5) You’re drunk, bent over a bar with a grin splayed on your lips. You’re clinging to me, and won’t let me fish your keys out of your pocket/bag, guess we’re taking my car.
6) I step outside to find a thank you note for helping you/picking you up/getting groceries for you, stuck to a plate of baked pie/cookies/cake. Oh my god, how can I make you bake more? …Why are your cheeks red? 
7) My roommate/ex/family kicked me out into the rain. I have nobody else to call but you.  
8) Your roommate/ex/family kicked you out, and it’s pouring outside. In my pajamas/loungewear, yet I ran to my car to pick you up. 
9) This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done, I tell you, but I don't have the heart to remove your fingers from my wrist. 
10) You’ve always been a stoic nightmare who never smiles, laughs, or does anything remotely animated. But one night, you actually laughed and I think I felt my heart skip a beat.
11) There’s one bed, and I know we’ve shared beds for years, but your arm is around my hips, my back is against your chest, and your breath keeps brushing my neck.
12) I’m trying to hold you, and I can feel every little thing about you. Why did I agree to sleeping here with you again? 
13) Ohmygod, I know I just said I love you, and I truly did mean it, but then your eyes flicker with something I’ve never seen, and maybe I don’t feel so bad anymore?
14) We’re arguing because of something stupid, and every single time I think it’s finally over, you scream, “But why do you care?!” And I respond with the only thing I can think of, “Because I love you!” @screnwriter lmao. 
15) Saying I love you after I just nearly drowned shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but I can’t seem to stop staring at your lips. Whoops?
16) We’ve been friends since childhood, and I’ve accepted that we’re just not meant to be. I’ve moved on and encouraged you to follow your dreams. I didn’t know that your dream was me. 
17) You and I’ve been friends since we were kids, and suddenly when I’m about to leave for vacation/college/moving, you let out that you can’t let me go without saying I love you.
18) All week, you’ve been on my mind, and I can’t make you go away. Finally, after suffering in silence for so long at the thought of your lips, your laugh, and your smile, I give in and ask you to come to my apartment.
19) What the hell are we doing in this closet? Why did you drag me in here? Why are you so close? Why do I want you to be closer? 
20) “This is bad,” I whisper, with my hands wrapped around your hips, because I know that if you give in, I’m wrapped around your finger. “Maybe,” you whisper, leaning closer, “maybe this is a good kind of bad, hm?” and pull me into a kiss. 
21) You need help tying the back of your dress/fixing your cufflinks, and my fingers keep scraping against your skin. How are you so warm? And how are you acting like I’m not right behind/in front of you? 
22) We’re ice skating, just like we used to when we were kids, but then you slip. I break your fall by offering myself up for tribute, and suddenly, we’re a whole lot closer.
23) You offer to make me tea when I’m sick, and for some reason, I have the urge to kiss you. Deliriously, I ask if I can. We came to an agreement that I can kiss you after I stop sneezing. 
24) I know you love rollercoasters, but I get so sick while riding them, and I’m not sure if I can stomach another one–oh, you’re holding my hand?
25) Every Sunday morning before work/church/school/a hobby, you come in for coffee. We chat a little bit each time, and I feel like we’re some sort of friends now. Today, I finally gained the courage to write my number on your cup. 
26) Family vacations are a whole lot more awkward when you and I can’t stop staring at each other, and you know that they’re going to catch on if we don’t stop, right? But we don’t, and instead, it just gets worse. 
27) You’re in a swimsuit. I don't know what to do but stand here and look awkward, because that’s more skin than I thought I’d ever see on you.
28) We’re roommates, and I walk in on you changing. You yelp. I yelp. I never forget what I saw, I’m sure you never forget what I walked in on. I think it’s time we have a chat about this. 
29) Did you know that if you love someone enough, your heart can palpitate? I didn’t, well, not until you walked into the room.
30) It’s your birthday and everyone forgot. Everyone except me. We sit down at a nearby park/in your apartment/on the roof/in a tree, and I finally give you my present.
31) You just got rejected from a date/prom night, and I promise you, your crush is missing out on you. I don’t know how to convince you other than sit here, hold you, and pretend that I don’t wish you’d see what’s in front of you.
32) I never wanted to ruin what we had, but you’re making it so hard not to utter those three words.  
33) I know you’re angry that I got hurt, but you’re patching up a cut on my face/chest, and you’re really close.
34) I invited you over after a rough night, the stench of cheap beer on both of our breaths. For some reason I can’t get my mind off of the way you laugh, or how you threw everything aside to come comfort me.
35) I’m trying to work up the courage to tell you how I feel, but everyone and everything seems to be against us doing this. Your friends, my friends, a random phone call from a telemarketer that I nearly cussed out. Okay, look, I love you.
36) Work has me exhausted, and I don’t want to think anymore, and I just can’t hold back from mumbling I love you into your hair. Uh, sorry.
37) We always snuggle, and this shouldn’t be any different, but I’m trying not to press my lips to yours because they’re right there and I don’t want to pass up another chance, but you take initiative and do it yourself. Oh. 
38) Your SO doesn’t treat you right, and you know it, and I know it, and everyone else knows it. But I don’t know how to convince you without giving myself away. And of course when I try, it fails. Crap. 
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I'm rereading book 1 after watching the movie because nostalgia and one of the earliest things that I just can't figure out why they would change is no one in Galvadon knowing about the school/it being a vague legend sort of thing, when the Literal first lines of the book are
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In the book, the school for good and evil is not only a very real thing, it's an established part of their culture. The townsfolk figured out many generations ago that, every four years, two kids would go missing, one "good" and one "bad", and in the following years after mysterious fairy tale books would be delivered to the village bookstore, depicting the missing children in their illustrations.
I just don't understand why that is something they would change for the movie since it makes no difference for the runtime, if they were already going to spend that time in Galvadon they might as well have shown us some incredibly interesting scenes from the begining of the book, like how the whole village prepares for the night the School Master comes for the children in desperate panic, including the children themselves terrified of being taken away from their families. Like:
Handsome ones had their hair lopped off, teeth blackened, and clothes shredded to rags; homely ones were scrubbed, swathed in bright colors, and fitted with veils. Mothers begged the best-behaved children to curse or kick their sisters, the worst were bribed to pray in the church, while the rest in line were led in choruses of the village anthem: “Blessed Are the Ordinary.”
Fear swelled into a contagious fog. In a dim alley, the butcher and blacksmith traded storybooks for clues to save their sons. Beneath the crooked clock tower, two sisters listed fairy-tale villain names to hunt for patterns. A group of boys chained their bodies together, a few girls hid on the school roof, and a masked child jumped from bushes to spook his mother, earning a spanking on the spot. Even the homeless hag got into the act, hopping before a meager fire, croaking, “Burn the storybooks! Burn them all!” But no one listened and no books were burned.
I honestly believe that the first few scenes in Galvadon from book 1 are some of the best writing Soman has done, and it's sad that we didn't even get to see Sophie's father boarding up her window only for her to tear it off and wait for the School Master with her bags packed, which is not only hilarious but it really adds to her character imo. In the books, Sophie has known about the school and wanted to go there all her life. It's not some impulsive idea coming from a rumor that she learned about that very same day, it's a very present part of their day-to-day life! And it would've cost them no extra screen time at all to show even a little bit of that, it's actually quite sad.
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klausluvr · 11 months
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Sittin’ Hot All Over Him
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After almost ruining one of Klaus’ deals by teasing him so much, you try to convince Klaus to forgive you despite you not being sorry at all. Unable to refuse you, Klaus gives you what you want — but he wants you all over him.
Contents: oral (male receiving), thigh ride, lots of spit in this one
“No, you won’t have me tonight.”
Her face fell, her eyebrows curling up. “Klaus, I was only teasing.” she whined as she followed him into their bedroom, an innocent-looking frown pulling at her face.
He scoffed and shook his head, taking off his leather jacket and closing the door. “Only teasing? You almost fucking ruined a very important dinner. Aren’t you lucky I mastered the art of restraint, my darling girl? Something you could only aspire to. How embarrassing.”
“I just want you. Is that wrong?” she asked, removing her fur shawl and holding it in her hands.
“Want is a very casual choice of word for the way you’ve been acting tonight.” he said jeeringly, inching toward her like a lion. “You were moaning in my ear about how you need my cock inside you, you were clawing at my shirt, you were grabbing at my cock while squeezing your thighs together. You were a hot mess.”
She shrugged, glaring up at him back as he wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled at it gently. “You’re going to punish me for desiring you, baby?”
Klaus laughed lowly, tilting her jaw with his index finger. “You’re a whore.” he said. “A needy, desperate whore without an inch of restraint in her body.”
“Add gorgeous to that list,” she teased.
He ripped the shawl out of her hands and threw it to the other side of the room. His breathing sharpened, his eyes widening in frustration with his lover. “I’ll add pathetic to it, too.” he said, seething, before crossing to their bathroom.
She kicked off her heels and started humming to herself. Watching the bathroom door, she slipped off her dress, leaving her in her white lace bra, panties and stockings of the same shade. She brushed her hand through her curls and sighed, a smile now curling on her face.
Klaus had grown used to her teasing. From the beginning of their relationship, she had been drawing him to the brink of insanity almost on the daily. Pulling at him, whispering filth in his ear, wearing revealing clothing whenever she could — she’d mastered the art of teasing. And she loved it; to soak herself in the sexual energy any chance she got, to lure him into it like a siren, driving him crazy. But Klaus was strong.
With a will of a man who has been through it all, Klaus was not often reactive to her teasing these days. It was becoming harder to bring him into her world involuntarily. So she’d grow impatient, boldening her acts, ensuring she was the centrepiece of his attention, even when solving detrimental disputes for his city. After all, it was not a crime to desire your lover. She was free from shame.
Klaus returned with a slightly reddened face and a few buttons of his shirt undone. The front of his hair was damp from washing his face. He fluttered his lashes a little at the sight of her, avoiding her eyes and instead staring intently at her hips, her waist, her legs, her neck and her breasts. Her beautiful skin he knew was so soft, so hot for him all the time. He watched her near closer to him, swaying her hips as she moved. When she was standing before him, she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his body into hers. “What do I need to do to have your love tonight?” she whispered, kissing his neck after.
“You won’t.” he deadpanned, pushing her off of him.
She frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. She made her way to their bed and crawled on the purple silk sheets. She laid on her stomach, kicking her feet and leaning on her elbows. “I’m sorry, baby. If I knew you’d get so riled up I wouldn’t have done it.”
“That’s exactly why you did it!” he shouted. She jumped at the height of his voice all of a sudden, but ultimately kept her composure. “You live to enrage me. That’s your problem. You just can’t help yourself.” His hand flinched to punch the wall beside him, but he restrained himself before he did so. He didn’t want to scare her.
Klaus groaned to himself, rubbing his face. He had no idea what to do with her in this moment. It was true he enjoyed the teasing, but her behaviour tonight blurred his mind so much that he almost lost a deal with an opponent. Of course, he didn’t, but it was a close call. And she didn’t care at all.
She didn’t much care for his political pursuits. All she cared for was his safety and who he was besides his greed. She lusted for him madly beyond his power. Which at first was a breath of fresh air — now, however, it was distracting.
Still, he didn’t know what to do with her. He wanted to ignore her entirely, but she was too captivating to miss. How the lace hugged her skin, how the bra brought her breasts together, the colour of the garments deceiving the eye, wiping them of her sinfulness and introducing a false innocence.
He would submit to her behaviour again, but he wouldn’t fuck her like she wanted. He knew that as long as he was with her, she would be having the time of her life — but she didn’t deserve him on a silver platter. No, she would work for him. She would be all over him, melting warm like chocolate all over his body.
Klaus joined her on the bed, sitting at the headboard and spreading his legs wide. She rushed over to him, crawling in between his legs and climbing up his torso to kiss him.
She enraptured him in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, moaning softly into his mouth. Klaus held her by her jaw, caressing her cheek with his thumb, his other hand at her ass.
“I need you.”
“Then you’ll behave.” he said, lifting the hand at her ass to grope her breast. He massaged it, coaxing her to let out a hot breath.
His lover nodded, her lashes fluttering.
“Good girl. Take off my trousers and use that mouth of yours for somethin’ other than driving me insane, would you?”
She giggled as she moved down his body. “You saying my skills don’t drive you wild, baby?”
Klaus laughed a little too. “I don’t wanna hear you talking for a good while.” he said, half jokingly.
She pulled down his trousers and his socks from his body and tossed them across the room. Looking into his eyes, she slowly ran her hands up his legs and onto his thighs before slowly pulling down his boxers, revealing his springing hard-on.
She wrapped her hand around it, jerking it slowly from its base to its tip as she kissed all around his cock. He groaned and pulled her hair, a warning to quit teasing. She let go of him and spat into her hands, using one to massage his balls and the other to pleasure him at his base as she swirled her tongue around his tip, kissing and sucking at it softly.
Klaus let out a moan, spurring her on to take more of him in her mouth. She arched her back and shook her ass as she pleasured him.
She was bobbing her head and massaging him at the base of his cock and his balls, shooting pleasure all throughout his body like fireworks. Klaus buckled his hips, spluttering moans, his gaze set on her.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “Your bad behaviour is worth all this. You’re such a good little whore for me, my sweet girl. So good for me.”
She arched her back more and sucked harder. As much as she loved to be degraded, praise sent her body into overdrive.
When he was close, he pushed her off of him gently. “You alright?” she asked, spit dripping from her bottom lip.
He nodded vaguely, his eyes half-shut. “Get on my thigh.” he demanded.
His lover smiled wide, ripping off her panties and tossing them, too, across the room. Klaus spat on his hand and lubricated his thigh with it before she sat on him. She moaned loudly, a sense of relief washing over her. She looked at Klaus, tears in her eyes, mouth open, and began grinding.
At first her hands scratched up and down her body, grabbing at her own hips and breasts. Klaus soon leant forward a little bit to hold her neck. Her eyes kept wandering down to his cock, her mouth watering. So she spit onto her hand again and stroked his cock at the same speed of her grinding. Klaus removed her bra, moaning at the sight of her naked breasts.
They both gasped together as their pleasure intensified, the fire burning high in their loins. She held onto his shoulder with her other hand for some support. He dropped his hand to her waist and directed her to elongate her grinding. When she did, she mewled at the new burst of pleasure. “God, I love you, baby.”
“I love you, my darling girl.” He said, kissing her messy.
When they broke from the kiss, she pulled his face closer, resting her cheek on his as she ground on his thigh. She upped the speed, nearing closer to her release.
Klaus spat on his hand and stoked his cock with her. She moved her hand to his balls so he could stroke himself at the speed he needed to.
She soon recognised how close he was. “Cum all over me, baby,” she begged, moving the hand on his balls to hold her breasts together. She leant back.
Klaus came hard, cum shooting out of his cock and all over the pair of them. He groaned her name, his cum all over her chest and his thighs. His lover grinned as the warmth hit her skin.
The sight of his undoing spurred her own. She moaned his name too when she came, looking into his eyes. He held her neck with one hand and kept the hand at her waist with the other as she came down from her high. “Ooh, good girl,” he cooed. “That’s my girl.”
She brought him into an embrace when she had rode her high, sighing into his neck. He wrapped her hands around her and kissed her forehead.
“As much as I resent your teasing, you are always onto something spectacular.”
She laughed softly. “Klaus, my love, I just want you.”
Tagging those that voted Klaus / wanted to be tagged: (Tumblr won’t let me tag some! So sorry!)
@klaustopia
@mayiahsblog
@nelyasflowergarden
@hyperactivewhore
@fawn1ess
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prkwook · 6 months
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THE STORM ⛈️ park gunwook
☆ pairing: high school student!gunwook x fem!reader
☆ genre: (slight??) angst, fluff,
☆ wc: 1.8k
☆ summary: your mind is a storm, spiraling like a hurricane, but at least you have someone ready to wait it out with you, no matter what happens.
☆ warnings: anxiety / social anxiety , reader has a panic attack (pls let me know if there are any i should add)
☆ note: this is my longest fic yet?!!!! not proofread
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"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship." — Louisa May Alcott
You hate having to give presentations in class. So much so, you often skip class the day of your presentation because the thought of getting up in front of everyone makes you physically sick. Due to the amount of absences you were accruing because of this, you wanted to arrive early to school today to try and talk your way out of the presentation you were to give sometime today. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Unfortunately, today was not your lucky day.
When you slept 15 minutes past your alarm, only giving you 20 minutes to get ready and on your way, you thought it was just you being tired and when your hair straightener wouldn’t straighten how it always does, your excuse was that it was a hand-me-down from your older sister and it was getting old. But when your oatmeal was cold and you almost fell down the stairs on your way out the door, and you forgot your headphones at home, you decided that today, your luck (not that you normally have any) had run out.
When you got to school, you made a beeline directly towards the teacher’s office. When you got there, you found your teacher immediately and started walking towards him.
“Good morning, Y/n. What can I do for you this morning?” he asked you, eyes looking up at you from an email he was reading.
“Hi, Mr. Kim. You know those presentations we’re supposed to give today in class?” you mumbled. The frog in your throat was getting bigger by the minute and you didn’t know how much longer you could’ve stood there.
“Oh right! Thank you for reminding me! I completely forgot about those. What about ‘em?” You mentally kicked yourself. Another thing to add to the list of things that just couldn't go right. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.
“Right. Um, giving presentations makes me… uh… really um… nervous so I was wondering if I could maybe… uh… just come during lunch and just present to you instead of in front of the whole class.” You could already feel your usual day-of stomach ache coming on and it was not helping.
“I’m sorry, Y/n, but this is a really big part of your grade. Public speaking is very important for your future so you should get used to it. I’m sure everyone is nervous. Plus, I can’t go around making exceptions for people just because they’re nervous, now can I?” he questioned with an expectant look in his eyes. Unable to respond, you sighed quietly and drop your eyes to the hands fidgeting at your side.
“Oh... okay. I understand.” Honestly, you wondered if your day could get any worse?
Turns out, it could and just did.
“Hello, class!” Mr. Kim exclaims as he saunters into the room, smile on his face.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” the class less than enthusiastically says back to him.
“Aw, where’s the excitement?” Silence.
“Well …” he claps. “I had forgotten about your presentations today but was reminded about them this morning, thanks to Y/n!” he laughs. All 52 eyes in the class turn to look at you. You remember how you used to want to be Violet from The Incredibles when you were little and try to make yourself as invisible as possible. Maybe if you close your eyes, they’ll all disappear.
“Since you reminded me, why don’t you go first Y/n?” You hesitate and a second later, a hand shoots up. It’s the hand that belongs to the class president, your knight-in-shining armor, and the boy you’ve liked since the first day you joined this school, Park Gunwook.
“I’ll go first!” he announces and starts to walk up to the front of the classroom, hands carrying bright, neon-colored flashcards. You didn’t even prepare flashcards. You watch as he gives his presentation with the confidence only a scholar on the topic could have and when he’s done, you watch as he walks back to his seat and sit down.
“Would anyone else like to go?” Not a single hand raises. “Well, I guess it’s your turn then, Y/n.” You get up and silently shuffle to the front of the room, making a mental note of all of the eyes that travel with you on your way. You also can't help but notice how your hair and uniform are now slightly disheveled, a by-product from when you had to slump down in your seat in order to avoid the gazes of your classmates. Suddenly, you’re more self-conscious than ever, feeling the stare of every single person in the room bore into you. When you finally reach the front, you look out into the sea of eyes that are all staring right back at you.
You look down at your hands and fidget with your rings until you hear your teacher say that you can start when you’re ready. But what if you’ll never be ready? What if this fear of embarrassment, this fear that others will notice that your anxiousness and take advantage of it, never goes away?
“Um…” You feel your hands start to shake so you hide them in the pockets of your sweatshirt. “My project was on…. um…” You look up at the SMART board next to you that has the slide presentation you spent hours on, projected onto it. “It’s on …. um… Romeo- sorry… um … Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.” You look up at the people who could clearly care less about your or your presentation but somehow, your brain has you convinced that they can see your anxiety, as if it’s written in big, bold letters right across your forehead. You start to get overwhelmed and all it takes is a quick glance to the corner where you can see two girls look at you, laugh, and then start whispering to each other, for you to be running out the door.
You run and run and run until you reach the staircase, a place you know no one will be this time of day, and finally let the tears spill. You’re seemingly safe and yet the thoughts in your head spiral like a hurricane, wreaking havoc on your emotions, the peaceful citizens in your brain. Your lungs burn with an all consuming fire, never letting you catch your breath, not for even a millisecond. Your hands are still shaking and you swear your heart is beating so fast, you might even be having a heart attack. You’ve felt these all too familiar feelings before and yet, they’re still as strong as the first time. Everything other than the hurricane is gone and yet, you can still feel a tap on your shoulder, a tap that alerts you of the presence of another being standing on the outside of your storm.
“Y/N, are you okay?” the person asks, worried laced in their words. You could recognize this voice from anywhere.
“Do I look okay?!” you yell, louder than intended. Gunwook recoils, words hitting him like cold water. Your storm widens and he's caught in the crossfire.
“Ok, I probably deserved that. Hey, it’s okay.” he says softly as if he’s trying not to scare you away. “Just breathe with me.” Inhale. Exhale. “Again.” Inhale, exhale. You feel your breathing start to return to normal but even still, you can’t seem to escape the storm. The boy sits down next to you and pats his shoulder. You lay your head down and cry on his shoulder for what feels like an eternity.
You sit up and look at his tear-stained shoulder. “Oh my god, I am so sorry." Embarassment floods your senses and a second wave of tears start to fall. Gunwook wraps his arms around you as if he's trying to protect you from the dangerous winds of your storm, now surrounding you both.
“Hey, no. It’s okay, I promise. No need to apologize. I completely understand how you feel. You might not believe me but trust me, I’ve gotten really good at hiding it. I don’t know if you noticed but while I was up there, my hands were shaking like crazy.”
As he talks, you feel your storm get smaller and smaller until it’s only just a little, tiny rain cloud floating above your head. You pull away and look him in the eyes.
“Why’d you chase after me?” you question, still looking into his warm, brown eyes. He looks right back into yours and wipes away a tear-shaped raindrop running down your cheek.
“Because I was worried about you, Y/N.”
“Why were you worried? I mean look at me, I've never been better.”
Gunwook laughs, and his laugh is a sound you're convinced is your new favorite. “What do you mean why? If the girl I like runs out of the classroom crying, obviously I’m going to be worried …. wait a second…..” He looks away to hide his cheeks, but his red ears are a dead giveaway.
“The girl you what?!”
“Shit. I’m sorry if that just made this awkward. I mean you said it yourself, we’re not really friends so I don’t blame you at all if you want me to leave. You know what, I’ll just go.” As he gets up and starts to walk back in the direction of your classroom, you grab his hand.
“Don’t I get to say my piece now?” Gunwook pauses and you take this as a sign to continue. “Remember when you were assigned to show me around the school because I was new? That was the day I spilled my strawberry milk all over you. I felt so bad and kept apologizing but you insisted that it was actually your fault because you bumped into me. You even bought me a new one from the cafeteria. Instead of making me feel embarrassed or humiliated, you comforted me, saying that it was okay because you had been looking for an excuse to get a new jacket. To this day, no one has ever done something for me like that.”
Gunwook laughs and the smile you’ve come to love appears on his face. “I remember that day like it was yesterday. The entire time I was with you, I was so nervous. I mean how could I not be? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Every time you smiled, my heart skipped a beat.”
“How come you never told me how you felt?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was scared. It’s a lot easier to stay quiet about it than have to deal with rejection.” Gunwook responds, sadness written all over his face.
“Who says I would’ve rejected you?” You say and smile for the first time that day.
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
Note
HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAYYYY<3 to celebrate, can i request “jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you” from the prompt list with marc??? thanks love!
What Did You Say? - Part 1 (Marc)
Marc Spector X f!Reader
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Part 2 (Steven) - Part 3 (Jake)
Hadley, bb, WAAAAAAAH JEALOUS MARC IS MY WEAKNESS! I hope you liked it :) @welcometostayingawake thank you for brainstorming this with me! - Also just realized I didn't add the fucking prompt line to this one! Whoops! I'm so tired when I wrote this so apologies! The concept is there though!
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, rough sex, jealousy, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, p in v creampie
Word Count: 814
Marc was on top of you, thrusting deeply, worshiping your body like he always did. His face was buried into your neck, sucking on the soft skin there, and his hand was pinching your nipple. You squeezed Marc’s hip, trying to rile him up a bit, get him to fuck you just a little harder, but he wasn’t going for it.
“Come on babe, I had a tough day…” You urged. “I want you to really fuck me. Get mad.”
That seemed to inspire him to move a little faster, and pinch a little harder, but it still wasn’t the same, it wasn’t what you knew Jake could give you instead. You entertained Marc for a little while longer, but you sensed your lack of enthusiastic noises caused him to start getting a little soft. Marc grumbled and got off of you.
“What is it? What am I doing wrong?” He was irritated.
“I told you, I had a rough day, I keep asking you to just fuck me harder and you won’t and I’m sorry.” You stood up too. “Guess I’m just not into it tonight.”
Marc was still naked, standing by the dresser while his cock softened before your eyes.
“Why don’t you just get Jake out here? He knows how to really fuck me right, just how I need it right now.” You felt bad for saying it, but it was true. Jake knew how to turn you into putty, no matter how pissed you were after work, and that was exactly what you needed to relax.
Marc turned around slowly, his brows furrowed, eyes dark.
“Excuse me?” He asked, taking a step forward.
“Sorry, I’m just frustrated I shouldn’t have said that.”
You groaned, knowing that this meant you and Marc might fight. You exited the bedroom, deciding to get a glass of water before you took a bath. At least then you could just take care of yourself. You didn’t make it that far though. Marc was hot on your heels and he grabbed around your waist pulling you back against his chest.
“What did you say to me in there?” He asked through clenched teeth.
If he could see the little smirk you held, you knew it would infuriate him.
“Baby, it’s ok, you’re each good at different things. Jake just happens to be better at fucking me when I need someone more…in charge.”
That did it.
Within seconds, Marc was kicking a chair out of the way and pushing you down onto the table. You had your face to the side, where Marc hooked his thumb into your mouth and pressed on your cheek with his palm.
“You think Jake fucks you best? Let’s see how you feel when I’m done with you.” He was hard again, thrusting his cock into you so harshly you thought your hips might bruise on the table.
His thumb stayed in your mouth, pulling at the sides and forcing drool to spill out onto the varnish. You held on to the table tightly, feeling like you might lose your balance from how ruthless he was on your cunt. The harder he fucked you, the more you squirmed, the more you had to reposition yourself to keep from falling.
“Take it, all you can do honey is just take it.” His voice became more raw and gruff with every slap of his hips against your rear.
You moaned a distorted groan with his thumb still pulling against the skin of your cheek.
“You seeing this Jake? Huh? You seein’ how pretty our girl looks with her little pussy splitting over my cock?” You felt your cunt flutter over his girth, “mm, you feel that?”
If Jake and Steven were right there, listening in, you knew you’d be in for a long night of jealous alters both wanting a chance to prove their skills in the bedroom. For now though, Marc was fucking you to tears over the kitchen table, forcing you to make the noises he so desperately wanted to hear from you earlier.
“You crying baby girl?” He spanked your ass with his free hand, “good, let it out, you look so fucking pretty like that, crying and drooling all over the goddamn table. Let’s see Jake do that.”
Steven would be upset that the varnish got stained, but Marc clearly didn’t give a shit about that, he was too busy proving himself to the others. His pace reached an all time high as he approached his climax. While he pumped you full of his seed, you felt your cunt squeeze around his pulsating cock. You wailed into the apartment in your ecstasy while Marc was slowly running out of steam, until he eventually stopped and pulled everything out of you.
“There.” Marc tapped your asscheek. “Now we’ll see who you’re asking for the next time you have a tough night.”
Melody's Birthday Celebration - Submissions Closed
Celebration Masterlist
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stcrgazings · 1 year
Text
like a tattoo ➳ (c.l)
part two is up and you can read it here
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note: sooooo I literally wrote this out of nowhere, but i like how it turned out, it’s nothing like the song really buttt it has some of its lyrics so it only seemed fitting to name it that. thx to my girly @hey-kae who was my beta reader, and convinced me to post this, love ya. happy reading and don’t be a ghost reader!
pairing: charles leclerc x female reader
summary: in which you’re having a very hard time trying not to think about your ex-boyfriend charles, and with his dnf in the first race of the season, everything seems to remind you of him.
warnings: use of alcohol, lots of swearing (mostly fuck), a very heartbroken reader, mentions of a dick-ish charles, smoking ¿?? kinda
word count: 1,5K (it’s a shortie but I promise is soooo good)
“and it’s a Ferrari slowing down guys, and it looks like it’s Leclerc” the commentator in the tv says and your heart immediately drops.
Yes, you hate him, and don’t even wanna look at his face ever again but your heart still aches for him and the way his team is failing him yet again in what is barely the first race of the season.
Your model friend turns to look at you as the stylist sips you up over the black tube dress and fixes your hair in the tight ponytail that adorned you head.
“That’s karma” says the girl besides you, as you inevitably roll your eyes.
“That’s one way to call it” you say and everyone in the room that was starting at you bursts out in laughter.
You wanted to hate him, you really did, but you couldn’t help but wanting to text him after that awful race for him.
But fuck him, right?
He had a championship to win, at least that what he said when he broke up with you cold blooded, so yeah, fuck him and his stupid unreliable little red car.
you look at yourself in the mirror and smile at the reflection, you’re pretty, the most wanted model of every single luxury brand, and you eventually will get over him.
So you say your goodbyes as you exit the Prada building after signing yet another contract to add to your portfolio, your girl best friend hooked in your arm as you both giggled softly about where you both will be partying that nigth.
“But in Monaco right?” She asks as you both enter the limousine waiting for you at the front.
“Yeah I guess” is all you answer as you manager turns to look at you both.
Your hand lingers through your phone and eventually Charles contact, you wanted to text him, but at the end you decide against it, but something in the back of your mind tells you to unblock him and so you do.
Maybe some vodka will give you the courage to text him, or at least to hook up with someone else to forget about those haunting green eyes.
“We’re going to a club” you answer, finally lifting your eyes from the device your managers face quickly going pale.
“You really think that’s a good idea?” He asks serious, you roll your eyes.
“Why?” You play dumb as your friend besides you giggles.
“Bella don’t support her!” He complains.
“I’m actually curious why not?” The model asks again, also playing dumb, the man in front of you squeezing his fists as the both of you gang up on him.
“You going out partying and getting hammered when your ex just got his ass kicked at the race, how do you think the media would react to that?”
you meant this with absolutely every bone of your tiny body, when you say this;
“Do you really think I care what the media thinks? Fuck them for all I care” You spit and Bella besides you claps and cheers and picks a fight with your manager who is clearly unhappy with your plans of the night, he lists all of the cons and the reasons you should stay at home tonight.
“It’s a Sunday y/n, for gods sake!” He says but you didn’t listen and truly did not care a bit.
This is what you’ve been doing for the pasts weeks to try and cope with what he had done to you, and you hated yourself for not just getting over him.
Because it’s not like he was boyfriend of the year when you two were together, in the last months of your relationship he barely even acknowledge you, and he had dump you over call after what it was the biggest fight of your relationship.
Because you had exploded out frustration from his constant indifference, and dick ass attitude, and then ditched the apartment you both shared together.
So naturally when when he called you hours later you thought it was maybe to fix the things between the both of you.
But boy were you wrong.
Somewhere along the lines of “you’re just a model you don’t understand anyway” and “text me when you come get your things” the person you had love the most for the longest time broke your heart and didn’t looked back.
And so you went into self defense and destructive mode and if he didn’t looked back neither did you, blocking him in every social media known to men.
And like that you were strangers with who one was your favorite person in the entire earth.
And so if you wanted to go and get completely hammered after he lost a stupid race you would.
(…)
The Weeknd was playing as you downed another shot with people surrounding you as they cheered you on.
you were pretty wasted, but you still couldn’t get the Ferrari driver out of your mind.
All that you could think about was him, how much you missed him, and how much you wanted him right now.
As you danced with strangers hand all over your body you couldn’t help but remember his.
You remembered his hands, the way you would squirm under his touch, how he would show you how the stars looked like with just his fingers, the way his hands fit practically like they were meant to be holding yours, how good it feel when they were wrap around your neck, and how he would woke you up with them as he tickle you in to his arms, the way he held you at night as you both talk about your days and how much you missed each other.
Suddenly it all feels like too much, you pushed the stranger away from you, his grab in you becoming overwhelming and you need air, a single tear running trough your cheek and you can’t breath and it’s so unfair.
It’s unfair because you’ve had the worse months of your life and he had just moved on, with who used to be one of your best friends.
(Or at least that’s what every single media outlet said)
And you probably shouldn’t believe it but you still remembered the bile coming up your throat as you stared at the pictures of them at the Paris Fashion Week.
So you sit with your head thrown back in on of the sofas of the private booths at the club, and as the air conditioner hit your face, you remembered his hands and the way the mountains looked when you took that trip to the French Alps last Christmas, and you wanted to sob because of how awful it all felt and how much your body ache for him, you close your eyes and take some deep breath, and you can almost feel his lips against yours, you can almost see the life shooting diamonds from his eyes, his beautiful eyes.
The ones that would haunt you at night when you couldn’t sleep because all you did was think of him, how he was doing, if he missed you as much as you did him.
“You want a cig? Looks like you need it” a stranger asks in front of you, you mumble a no as you can, being so lost in your own head.
For the longest time Charles was by far, in your books at least the best person in the world, always so happy and perky, his smile lighting up your days, and nights, always so hungry for life, wanting for you to know the world the same way he did, always so passionate about the things he loved, always so passionate and loving of you.
You can’t help but wonder when it all went wrong, maybe somewhere between France and Abu Dhabi, the last being the last time you remembered being genuinely happy beside Charles, because yes he had come second in the championship but you remembered the way he held you up and kissed you in the hotel room and for a moment you thought you both will be fine.
But when you reach the top, it comes the fall.
And it was all fighting and misunderstandings and misery because you just wanted to be with him but he just wouldn’t let you.
Now you were there, still falling, wanting to forget about those times when you were happy with him.
He moved on, why couldn’t you?
Sitting there you beg for the universe to help you, to give you a sign, anything really, that eventually things would change, that you would stop feeling this way, that the hole inside your chest would disappear and finally the air would feel the way it’s supposed to and breathing and waking up in the morning wouldn’t be as hard as it had been lately and happiness would return your way and things would get better.
Obviously the least that you expect is your phone screen lighting up.
Especially with the name of the one that hadn’t been able to leave your mind in the entire night.
Suddenly and “I miss you” text from Charles hits you out of nowhere like a brick in the face.
Maybe you’ll take that cigarette now.
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ladystardust-thinks · 8 months
Text
high-achiever - e.u.
Request by: @stilessbaseballbat
Hello! Can I request an imagine with Eggsy where him and the reader are appointed to train the newbies, but they become too competitive and split the group in two - One is Eggsys group and the two the readers. They make a bed which group will pass the Kingsman training? (you can choose who wins and what the loser is going to have to do)
Eggsy Unwin x Fem!Reader
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A/N: It hasn't been long since I got that request. Sure. I totally didn't have it in my wips since forever. Anyway, I feel a little boring because of the choice I made on who wins but eh it's okay. It was like 4am. I'm proud of the OCs though 'cause I think they're pretty lovable. (aka I love them and they're my pretty little babies so you also have to love them, no pressure.)
Any feedback, is good feedback!! Correct me on anything you think is wrong.
word count: 2.1k
Tags/Warnings: She/Her pronouns!!, Jealous Reader if you squint really hard, kinda ooc eggsy?, OC x OC, reader is an overachiever, bad writing? English is not my first language, I learned it entirely out of social media, mention of a dog being shot (but not really), mention of reader having a dog (again, only if you squint.), Use of Y/N
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"Gawain! Get up!" Eggsy's voice echoes loudly through the woman's house as he swings all the curtains wide open. She winces at the sudden light and curses the boy through her teeth.
"Y'know Galahad, I have heard rumours about people saying good morning as a greeting. Also that is a total violation of privacy. Do you know that? It's important to me that you know that." The girl whines shoving her tired body towards the kitchen, pouring coffee in a mug.
"Good morning, Gawain." Eggsy pauses. "Alright, now, the trainees list just came in and Merlin told me we are to train them. So take a look at it." He pushes the papers towards her and she takes a sip from her coffee, not making an attempt to take the papers. She looks up at Eggsy like he had killed her whole family.
"Why are you all that excited?" She asks rhetorically, not waiting for an answer. "Well, first of all I've been there and it's interesting to see newbies in my position and second of all it's going to be something to add to my successes. I'm high already but I am aiming higher."
He answers in a matter-of-factly tone and sits opposite to the girl. "What makes you think you are going to be all that good at it. I mean I am going to be there sure but-" She was rudely cut off.
"Are you implying you are better than me, Gawain?" The agent says slowly with a smile forming on his face.
"I wasn't implying anything, actually. I thought that was obvious. But before you rudely cut me off and-" She grunts in annoyance. Yet again being interrupted. She didn't like being interrupted.
"Then we can put it to the test. Drink your coffee and get dressed we are going to HQ." He states and starts wandering around the house, almost too comfortable, opening her closet and pulling out her suit, throwing it on her bed.
"You're doing it, again! I don't really appreciate that! And how did you even get inside my house? I never gave you a key. The door was locked, the lock isn't broken. What the bloody hell! You can't just sneak in like that." The woman complains kicking Eggsy out of her room as she starts to change her clothes. "We are Kingsmen, Gawain. Nothing is ever locked." She heard him say behind the door.
***
The newbies were in their cabin and they looked terrified in this sort of fun way. Y/N couldn't help but wonder if she also looked that terrified her first day at HQ. No. She thought. She was too confident. Her friends and family were sure, that was going to be the death of her. She was always sure of herself. Always. She had always been competitive.
Her parents still teased about stuff she'd do when she was little, like crying when she'd land on someone else's property while playing Monopoly.
They didn't even pressure her into all of those academic successes, she just did it.
The competitive part of her - if not her only part - is also what brought her where she is, doing something that Merlin, probably, wouldn't really like. But just like there wasn't one bone in her body that wasn't competitive, there also wasn't one that wasn't a winner.
***
"Do we get to choose who's in our team?" She found herself whispering at Eggsy while the newbies conversed with one another. "If you have your eye on someone that you think would make it easier, then no." He answers nonchalantly.
"Damn it." She swears under her breath, disappointed. "But we could choose eachothers teams. Like I choose yours, you choose mine." He murmurs.
"Okay. Then I'm giving you Marie." She says checking the document in her hand to make sure she got the name right. "Why Marie?" Eggsy asks, genuinely curious. "I don't know she seems annoying, she'd talk your ear of and get you distracted."
"Oh. Well that's good, because I actually think she's quite-"
"Then no." She changes her mind and shakes her head, her eyes still at the trainees looking over the cabin like lost puppies.
The blonde smirks, he marks his coworker's initials next to 'Marie Brown' on his own document. "Marie?" He says looking at the group of people right in front of him, searching with his eyes for the short redhead. "Yes." She speaks up. "You're with Gawain." He states.
The girl sprinted towards the, not-so-thrilled, agent excitedly. She smiled with all her teeth and squealed, standing tall, next to her.
She threw a sarcastic, tight lipped smile smile her way, then turned to look at Eggsy, the grimace never leaving her face. He just tried to hide his giggles under his breath and smiled, looking only forward because he knew if he turned to look at the woman's expression, he'd break down in laughter.
Marie grasped her mentor's shoulder proudly and Y/N's eyes widened but Eggsy's ability to hold his laugh was only getting worse. She nudged his rib with her elbow and coughed. "Okay, Elliot, with Galahad." She marked the initials G.U. on her document and let a breathy laugh out.
His eyes widened and his eyebrows went up, he turned to look at her and Elliot walked over to him. "Hello, sir." He sniffed and put his hand out for Eggsy to shake. His voice was shaky. Eggsy looked at him, then back at his sweaty hand and shook it.
Elliot let go from Eggsy's hand and wipped his hands on his uniform, fixing it and clearing his throat, as he walks next to Eggsy.
"He does realize that we are almost the same age and I am not his teacher, right?" The agent turns to Y/N and she snorts shortly. "Dont be mean," she says quietly "that's my job." She continues.
"Well, this is going to be fun." Eggsy mumbles under his breath. Suddenly regretting ever planting the idea of a bet in the girl's head.
***
"Okay, so." She clapped once to get the attention of the newbies. "The next days are going to be full of missions and tests, but you have to keep two things in mind. Always listen to your mentor and of course always look at the bigger picture. You're going to be in danger, multiple times through out this training process. If you look too closely you don't think practical, you think hypothetical. And a Kingsman doesn't have time for hypothetical."
Eggsy found himself staring at the young agent while she spoke with such loyalty and dedication. There was always this on going banter between them, about who is better at this or that, little things. But it had been amusing for him how she took everything so seriously, like she just had to win. Even if that was just an unserious game of rock-paper-scissors. He couldn't help but wonder why she was so competitive, with everyone but especially him, at most times.
That being the only trait they had in common.
How competitive they both were.
In general they we really different, she was serious most of the time and she always went by the rules, more logical than emotional, she'd always follow a good piece of advice. Eggsy was a free-er soul, he is emotional, he gets attached really easily. A smart-ass if she's ever met one. And he had this weird hero complex she could never understand, this 'I'm saving the world.' kind of attitude. She wanted to wipe that smirk of his face, bring him down to earth, shout 'We're all saving the world here!' at him.
***
"Hello there." Agent Gawain told the newbies, wet like cats, seeming miserable.
"What the hell was that?!" Hayley whined, a trainee from Eggsy's team. "That was your first quest, and if it was hot in here you'd be thanking us now." He answered the blonde girl's question.
"What was surprising, something that has never happened before, was that all of you failed. We had to drain the water so you don't drown." Y/N told her trainees. They all looked at eachother awkwardly, ashamed, as the experienced agent put her hands over her chest disappointed.
"Are you kidding me? We almost died for your stupid training and we get scolded like we're little children? I am not dealing with this crap." She got her luggage from under her bed and pushed through Galahad and Gawain so she can leave. Eggsy grimaced, his nose scrunching and his eyes squeezing shut. "She left." He heard a familiar whisper from next to him. "I know." He said. "Okay. Hopefully by the next mission we won't have anyone storming off." He turned to the rest of the group.
***
It had now came down to the final choice. The two final trainees for the decision to be made were, ironically enough, Elliot and Marie.
The trainees were both at different rooms, one across from another. Agents Gawain and Galahad were both leaning on different walls, one across from another.
Both waiting nervously to hear the gunshot from their trainee's gun. The woman made a clicking noise with her tounge as the man constantly tapped his foot against the metal floor. "Nervous, Galahad?" The agent asks the blonde. "Never, Gawain." He answers.
Gunshots are heard from both rooms and the agents let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding, realisation came to them immediately and they locked in eachother's eyes. "Does this mean...?" Eggsy started. "I think so? It hasn't happened to me before." Y/N says confused and both Elliot and Marie come out of the rooms.
"I almost shot my Barney..." Marie says to her mentor with wide eyes, holding her dog close to her chest. "Yup I know, he's alright, Mar." Agent Gawain hugs her trainee, remembering how it felt to even think of shooting Stevie when she went through her own training.
"I- Me too." Elliot says, still shocked. She sees Eggsy over Marie's shoulder, as he sighs, grimacing yet again, questioning and giving two hesitant pats on Elliot's back she couldn't describe as confrontational. She laughs on Marie's shoulder and Eggsy rolls his eyes at her.
"Okay. I mean. Good news is...you're both Kingsmen now. And you have your dogs!"
Y/N says letting Marie go.
"Congratulations on your dedication."
Marie and Elliot start talking and Eggsy discreetly takes his coworker away.
"So it's tie?" He whispers.
"I guess so." She shrugs.
She looks back at Marie and Elliot. Elliot awkwardly laughs as he makes a depressing attempt to touch Marie's arm and she giggles putting some of her hair behind her ear.
"Well that's akward." She says and Eggsy follows her eyes and also looks at the, now, young Kingsmen.
"Let the kids be. They're living their love."
"You're making me have a mid-life crisis before my time, we're like two years older than them."
Eggsy sighs theatrically. "Yes, but they feel like my kids already. Look at them opening their wings."
Gawain rolls her eyes.
"Must be sad for you. Now you can't make a move on Marie." She says sarcastically.
"I just said that so you wouldn't put her on my team. Marie's not really my type."
"What's your type then?"
"I don't know. Witty, smart, boring agents that can't bare losing?"
"Sounds very specific for the sake of 'not knowing'."
"Familiar too doesn't it?" A proud smile plays around Eggsy's lips as he is staring at her.
"Yeah, it does. Thank god my type is annoying, funny, immature agents that I just can't get off my back." She grins.
"I'm pretty hard to get rid of. Would you break a rule, Gawain?"
"Only if I am to break it with such good company, Galahad."
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I would love to read your thoughts, i hope you enjoyed the story. Have a gorgeous day. Mwah!
-Shad
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