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#and I think you are taking things too serious
Drabble List #10
75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.
"Thank you, I really hate it."
"Can't figure out the right answer."
"Sit down and shut up."
"I'm definitely open to that."
"Why don't you answer your phone?"
"It's not a witchhunt."
"Is it suddenly getting colder?"
"That child is staring at you."
"Let's talk about some options."
"And then you just lost it?"
"Have you heard about this story?"
"It's going to be a great day today."
"Don't say another word."
"This is absolutely not my fault."
"What would happen if I'd kiss you right now?"
"It's always a risk, but think about the reward."
"There is a fine line between stupid and genius."
"I never really left."
"Answer me. Quickly."
"You hold no power here."
"We learn from our mistakes."
"Have you seen that the sun is coming out?"
"This sounds like an interogation."
"Should I call my lawyer?"
"I have always admired you."
"Who's at your house right now?"
"Call the number. Now."
"When are you getting paid?"
"It miraculously stopped working."
"I have absolutely no answers to your questions."
"You took us on a wild ride there."
"What did she look like?"
"That's a scam, ma'am."
"Let's see each other again in ten years."
"I will be waiting for you."
"Please, don't pick me."
"Not my friends, not my problem."
"It's not paranoia if they are really out to get you."
"You are such a hypocrite."
"Nobody asked me, but I will answer."
"How did you get your degree?"
"I'm not going to discuss this with you."
"Great, who cares?"
"You just can't handle the truth."
"I'm curious about your motive."
"Respect is not given freely."
"Your pride will be your downfall."
"Just let it go, okay?"
"Why do you insist on it?"
"Seeing you like this, I fell even more in love with you."
"I don't want to hear another word coming out of your mouth!"
"I just know that everything will go well."
"This is very important for me."
"Wow, the weather is really... doing its thing."
"Don't even try to talk to me."
"I can and I will sue."
"Maybe this was a mistake."
"Do I make you nervous?"
"You never had the best ideas."
"Don't wait for me."
"Who would you call?"
"That's too wild for me."
"You can't even say it with a straight face."
"I told you not to touch that."
"Do I really have to answer that?"
"Takes one to know one.
"Let me make this right."
"When did you become an expert in this?"
"Nothing is as serious as it seems."
"How could this accidently happen?"
"It's not my birthday."
"Sounds like wishful thinking."
"Welcome to my personal hell."
"Do you even know who I am?"
"The devil knows I tried."
Drabble Masterlist
Have fun creating and writing!
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629 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 day
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Ooo can we have a blurb where bombshell! R and Spence were either on a date or were about to have their first time but got called into work? They both look a little annoyed at being interrupted. The bombshell reader series has my heart 🥺
im picturing boyband reid here maybe <3 fem
cw suggestive content
“These are trick buttons,” you accuse. 
Spencer laughs for the tenth time in as many minutes, perhaps tickled under your hands, more likely that he’s just feeling the same rush of hormones (namely adrenaline) as you are. “They’re not trick buttons, it’s ‘cos your hands are shaking.” 
He takes your poor hands in his. “It’s okay,” he adds softly, “I can do it.” 
“I’m not nervous, I’m excited,” you say, less soft, more desperate than he is, or at least on the surface. 
“I know, I know–” He catches your lips in a sudden eager kiss, a hand jumping to your cheek to ferry you closer, the other sewing down between your two chests to work open his fiendish buttons. 
“See,” he says between kissing, “easy.” 
“I’d like to see this level of dexterity when you unclasp my bra,” you mumble, kissing with every bit of hunger and love you have for him, lips drifting to his cheek, and then down to his jaw. Your mouth opens of its own accord. Spencer lets a breath slip from him coloured with wanting, the most amorous sound he’s ever made under your hands as you kiss, and nip, and—
Your phone rings from the nightstand, a heavy, repetitive vibration. 
“Ignore it,” you say easily, climbing up over Spencer’s lap, hand to the side of his face and rubbing tenderly. 
“I was planning on it,” he says. He was shy at first, those first few kisses, but Spencer’s a person like any other and he squeezes your hips closer to his without further argument. 
Your phone stops ringing a half a minute later. You smile into his mouth, even more when his fingers climb the length of your spine to slip playfully under the clasp of your bra. “How many tries do I get?” he asks. 
You sit back just a touch to meet his charming gaze. “As many as you need, handsome… I’m very patient.” 
He pulls you in to kiss your neck just as his phone begins to ring. 
“It’s work,” he guesses, paused regretfully under your chin. 
“We don’t know that.” 
“That’s my ringtone for work.” 
You breathe heavily atop him. “Can’t we be late?” 
He smiles at you gently. “I’m sorry, angel. If we’re late again this week he might actually bite your head off.”
Things were so perfect. This was it, this was the moment you finally knew each other to the very core, and your stomach aches with how badly you want him. You're startled at the heat behind your eyes knowing it’s not gonna happen. 
“Not tonight,” Spencer says, like he can read your mind. Maybe he’d been thinking a similar thing. “But soon, okay?”
You wrap your arms around his neck. 
His phone stops ringing before he can catch it. Both of your phones ping with simultaneous text messages quickly afterward, before your ringtone begins again in earnest. 
He leans graciously toward the nightstand, allowing you to continue hugging him while also answering the phone. “Hello?” you ask. 
“Agent Hotchner’s calling you in.” 
You press your nose to Spencer’s shoulder. “Okay. I have Dr. Reid with me too. Please stop calling, we’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, flustered. You hang up quick. 
Spencer pats your back with his fingers, palm flat to your shoulder, apparently the less gutted of the both of you at your missed moment. “Let me get you dressed, okay?” he says. “You’re too sulky. It wouldn’t have even been that good.” 
“How rude.” 
His teasing continues. “I’m serious. I haven’t been with anyone since that girl in Vegas–”
“What girl in Vegas?” 
“–and anyways,” he says, tilting your head back, his smile both playful and adoring at once, “you shouldn’t have been on top.” 
“Spencer,” you laugh, pressing your hand to your eyes. 
“I have a head full of statistics on female pleasure and I don’t need them to know you should be laying down when we–”
You kiss him. “That’s enough,” you say, pressing the tips of your noses together. “I get the picture.” Your arm curled around his neck feels right, and you’re heartbroken to let it slink back to your side, but you do. “I love you. I wish we’d chosen different careers.” 
“I love you, too, but I don’t. Then we never would’ve met,” he says simply.
You let out a happy breath. “I guess not.” 
Spencer hoists you off of his lap in an impressive show of strength, but then he dumps you in the mess of sheets, which is less lovely. “What do you want to wear?” he asks, springing up, heading straight for his closet. “I pressed your pinstriped dress yesterday, that would look cute with your stockings. And you won’t need a jacket, it’s hotter out there than it is in here. Why are you looking at me like that? We literally don’t have time for this.” 
You love him. You’re gonna rock his world when you get home. “The dress is fine.” You put your arms up in the air. “I’m waiting. And look! We’re half undressed already. How convenient.” 
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bby-deerling · 10 hours
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Not sure if you are taking requests and/or suggestions, but I would die for a "Who did this to you?" or a "Who hurt you?" HC for female reader with, at least, Sanji, Law, Kid, Zoro and Ace. You can add more if you'd like! 🤩🤩🤩
I loooooove your writting! 👏🏻🙌🏻🫶🏻 And, obviously, you don't need to write this if you don't want to! 💯🥰
R.J.
this is a little bit of a monkey's paw because i decided to subvert this trope for these scenarios >:)
who did this to you?
ft. sanji, zoro, ace, kid, and law
masterlist || commissions
tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @sanjisprincesswifey
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sanji
"dearest, who did this to you?" he asks with wide eyes full of concern as he rakes his fingers through the choppy tresses of your hastily cut hair. you usually entrusted sanji with giving your locks a quick trim, but with him being wrapped up in the whole arranged marriage gone wrong thing, you had to turn to one of your other crewmates to get rid of the pesky strands that were flying in your face. based on the haphazard way the layers were cut, the cook assumes that you, for some unknown reason, had entrusted luffy or chopper with the task; however, he finds himself being proven dead wrong as nami pipes up and raises her hand.
"i did!" she exclaims proudly, eyes sparkling as she stands tall, making sanji switch up his attitude completely about your new style, spinning around and singing out a string of over the top praises for her. rolling your eyes, you grab his arm and yank on it, taking him somewhere more private to talk.
"tell me what you really think, sanji." you hiss as you drag him into the kitchen, glaring at him as you cross your arms. he pauses for a moment, not wanting to hurt your feelings; however, he knows that in the moment, what you need from him is honesty, so he tells you that hair grows back, before reassuring to you that you're just as beautiful in his eyes, even with a bad haircut.
zoro
slumping down at the breakfast table with little to no sleep, you and zoro are too tired to even think about hiding any of the marks he left across your neck last night, until your friends start commenting on them.
"geez, you look like you got attacked by a wild animal!" nami exclaims, bewildered as she stares at the darkening purple bruise along your throat.
smug as he downs his mug of coffee, zoro smirks as he leans back in his chair. "huh. i wonder who did that." he says, his grin getting wider as he watches the cook start angrily stabbing at the sausage on his plate. nami and usopp yell out a "gross!" and stick their thumbs down at him as they continue to stuff their faces with food.
"there's a wild animal that snuck on the ship?" luffy exclaims, already mentally making a plan to hunt it down and have sanji cook it up.
"no, just an uncivilized mosshead." sanji spits out, sparking an argument with the swordsman that ends up having to be broken up by robin, who spawns hands to grab both of them by the scruffs of their neck and plop them back into their chairs to continue eating.
ace
"who did this to you, huh? was it me?" ace teases as he pokes at the warm flush on your cheeks; he had been relentlessly flirting with you all day, but you were left tongue-tied unsure of whether he was serious or just teasing you to pass the time. "y'know, you're so cute when you're flustered." he continues with a grin, gently squeezing your waist.
"t-thanks!" you sputter out, struggling to look him in the eyes as his other hand finds your waist and your line of vision gets shadowed by the brim of his hat. "ace, do you like me? like, actually like me?" you squeak out, so uncharacteristically meek as your nerves make you worry about misinterpreting a bit of playful fun.
"'course i do. you're so silly sometimes, worrying about stuff like that." he says with a grin as he leans in and presses his lips to yours, melting the swirling storm in your head away with his warm, heated lips.
kid
"who the fuck did this to you?" kid growls as his hands trail along a few small bruises on the side of your hips one morning. you look at him with knitted brows, unsure if he was serious or not.
"you did, you fucking idiot! don't you remember?" you snap at him; even if kid hadn't noticed how rough he had been with you last night, there was no way you could forget the way his fingers indented into the plush skin of your hips as he pounded you into the mattress.
his expression screws up for a moment as he tries to recall what he did, until he realizes that maybe his grip had been just a bit too tight; nevertheless, he decides to continue to play dumb to try to swing the situation in his favor. "still not coming to me. you're gonna have to walk me through it 'til i remember." he says with a wolfish grin; however, you simply roll your eyes and sigh.
"i'm still too sore. ask me later." you scoff as you roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom to run a brush through your hair.
worth a try, he thinks to himself as he gets up with a grunt, joins you in the bathroom, and starts to do the same.
law
"tch—who did all of this to you?" law says with a low chuckle as he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you close; the rest of the crew were in their boiler suits, but you were done up so pretty that his heart nearly stopped when he caught a glimpse of you for.
bepo jumps up in the air raising his hand and eagerly taking the credit; when law had called from the sunny telling the crew he'd be back to zou in a few days, he'd asked for a second alone with you—that the rest of the crew eavesdropped on—where he told you to wear something nice for him. the navigator had taken this task very seriously and convinced some of the other minks to turn you into a creature somewhere between a princess and a goddess.
"well, you look gorgeous." he murmurs, unable to keep himself from planting a chaste kiss on your lips, though the rest of the crew clapping and cheering makes you both pull apart and shoot them red-hot glares.
"quit making it weird!" you both snap simultaneously, faces burning red as your friends let out a sea of laughter.
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lovebugism · 23 hours
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Hi there 👋🏻 I've been binge reading your stories lately and I love them all! I have a request if you're up for it. Could you write one where shy!reader doesn't like her laugh because some people think it's annoying but Eddie loves it? Totally not self-projecting by the way! 🙃 Thank you!
thank you angel! please enjoy :D — eddie comforts you when he finds out an old boyfriend made you hate your laugh (shy!fem!r, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1k)
You and Eddie sit on opposite sides of the worn, sunken-in couch — long legs bent at the knees, socked feet wedged neatly beneath your thighs. Your bare calves rest on either side of his lap while his calloused palms rub up and down the length of them. His touch is largely absentminded as he tries hopelessly not to laugh through the punchline of his own joke.
“—And I was like, ‘Boom. You lookin’ for this?’”
You think the brown-eyed look of expectancy he gives you is funnier than anything. You smile wide, hiding the sparkling expression behind your palm.
Eddie meets your beam with a boyish pout. He repeats the punchline, more serious this time. “And I was like, ‘Boom’—”
“I heard you, Eds,” you assure with a small chuckle. A mere breath of a laugh.
His frown deepens. “Oh, c’mon!” he exclaims, lifting his hands in protest. They drop back to your ankles a second later. “That was funny! That always kills with Hellfire!”
You nod rapidly, brows raised and eyes wide, like a parent comforting a child. “It was good,” you assure quickly.
“Then why aren’t you laughing?”
“So, what— I have to laugh if I think something’s funny?”
“Well, that’s usually how it works, yeah,” Eddie monotones with a flat face, nodding until his wild curls sway around his jaw. He shrugs lazily a second later and jokes, “If you’re not a psychopath, at least… You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
You meet his narrowed eyes with a more pensive gaze. Your lips purse to the side of your mouth as you jokingly ponder the silly question. “No,” you answer after a few long moments. “Not yet, anyway.”
Eddie nods like he’s relieved. “Nice.”
“There’s still time, though,” you add with a scrunched nose.
He scrunches the bridge of his back. “I’ll take that risk,” he says with a small huff before lifting his weight on his knuckles. The old couch creaks in protest as he leans over to kiss you. 
With a poorly bitten-back grin, you meet him halfway. Your mouths smack together in a fleeting kiss that tastes faintly of frozen pizza.
You settle back on the arm of the couch with Eddie’s socked toes wriggling under your thighs. His thumbs continue tracing shapes on the insides of your calves. He watches you watch the staticky television screen, too wound up about the whole thing to join in on the stupid sitcom.
The subtly overwhelming feeling bubbles in his throat until it spills like vomit from his mouth. “Do you think I’m not funny or something?” he blurts, then goes all shy right after. “Is that why… Is that why you don’t really laugh at my jokes?”
Your breathy scoff only further proves his point. “I laugh at your jokes all the time, Eds.”
He shrugs, unconvinced. “I mean… I guess. You, like, breathe really hard through your nose or whatever, but you don’t… You don’t laugh.”
“I think if you heard me laugh, you’d break up with me,” you joke and don’t think twice about how self-deprecating it is.
Eddie’s face twists at the thought — that he’d ever want to break up with you, or that there’d be a part of you he wouldn’t automatically adore on instinct. “Why would you say that?” 
You shrug with a vague I don’t know type of sound and turn back to the television. “My laugh is just weird, I guess....”
“No one’s laugh is weird!” Eddie insists. “It’s, like, the one sound people make when they’re happiest— It can’t be weird.”
You flash him a deadpan look of silent disagreement.
He caves.
“Okay. Fine. Dustin Henderson’s laugh is weird,” he concludes. “But… that’s just because he’s Dustin, you know?”
You breathe a faint chuckle at that. Almost like you’ve trained yourself to be as quiet in your laughter as you can. 
“My last boyfriend thought my laugh was annoying,” you confess like it’s no big deal. “So eventually I just kinda… stopped.”
Eddie’s soft features harden into a solemn frown. “What a fucking prick…” he grumbles like a storm cloud.
“It’s okay. I got over it. Mostly.”
He squeezes the backs of your calves with a pair of ringed hands, a warm and reassuring touch. “Well, I don’t think anything you do could annoy me,” Eddie tells you, tilting his head to the side until his wild curls bunch at his shoulders. “Just so we’re clear.”
Something in your chest flutters — like there’s a thousand moths trapped behind your ribcage. “Good to know,” you tease in the same sardonic tone.
Eddie rises suddenly, tugging at your ankles until you’re lying flatter on the couch. A squeal sound in your throat as you watch him rise to his knees and lean over you. He digs his fingers gently into the plush of your sides before you can blink. 
“Get off!” you swat at him, laughing loudly at the tickling sensation before you can help it. The golden sound spills from your lips and fills the dim trailer with so many little sunbeams. 
Your face heats at the proud, lopsided smile Eddie gives you.
“Get off,” you repeat, sterner now but still mostly playful. You’re only slightly surprised when Eddie obeys without pouting. You sit up a bit more and tug your shirt down from where it had ridden up. “And stop looking at me like that.”
Eddie fights to purse his beam to the side of his mouth. Your sparkling, unsmiling disposition is impossible not to smile at. “Can’t help it,” the boy shrugs with a stupid grin. “You’re too cute.”
Your face scrunches in disdain of his compliment. You prop your back against the couch and cross your arms over your chest, averting your gaze to the TV once more. “Just drive me home,” you grumble in protest, hardly meaning it.
“No can do, sweet thing,” Eddie says with a sympathetic sigh, dropping a heavy arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest. You melt begrudgingly into his sloppy embrace. He presses a kiss to your hair and mumbles into your temple. “‘M never letting you go, actually.”
And, despite your very obvious pouting, you pray he never breaks his promise.
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amalthiaph · 3 days
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I took an interest in The Bad Batch around the tailend of S2. It's not news to Tumblr that I almost slept on this show. And I cannot thank Caleb Dume enough for being the reason why I pressed the play button for this one. While I haven't been around for most of its active run, and I wish I had been, the last year has been among the best months of my life.
This show challenged my morals, and taught me lessons that I will forever take with me.
Tech taught me to embrace and take pride in who I am. I now think that I am not something that needs to be cured. I needed to be understood and accepted. He taught me that we deserved to be loved and be allowed to live the way we want to (as long as we are not causing harm to ourselves or to others).
Hunter taught me that at the end of the day, we're all still humans. We make mistakes. We fail. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And I should also take care of my hair bec I cannot accept that a man in a galactic war have better hair than me (Okay, did you honestly think I'm gonna be serious this entire essay?)
Crosshair taught me that at the end of the day, we really are still humans. Sometimes, we make choices that not everyone will understand or agree to. Sometimes, we don't even understand our own choices. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And that I should also go to therapy bec istg my hand shakes like hell I always need to rely on a pen stabilizer when doing my artworks.
Wrecker taught me that in this world where we can be anything, always choose to be kind. He is a great man who would always be there for everyone, and I hope that one day, I can be that person too. He is afraid of heights, but he climbs and go on high places anyway. Like him, I should also start conquering my fears. Dear Wrecker, I did try conquering my fear of heights last March 9 but I can't. I will try again.
Echo taught me to always fight for the greater good. Almost two years ago, me and a group of people campaigned for a great tomorrow. With pink flags and pink balloons, we worked on our little thing I like to call our rebellion. Sadly, we lost. At times, I am thinking of just giving up bec that's democracy and I cannot go against the people's decision, but characters like Echo and the rest of Rogue One taught me that nothing should ever stop me for fighting for the people's rights and that my love for my fellow citizens should always come first before hatred.
And lastly, Omega taught me to be curious, or more likely to not be ashamed for being curious. Learn about the world. Learn about lots of things. We never know when we need it. While I could say be good at strategy and win 30 grand on card games, nahhh, I'm not that smart.
I also learned to reevalutate myself as an artist. This show taught me integrity. I had ranted about this lately but these characters challenged me in terms of art. I knew that the creators aren't best at proper representation. While I could draw them as they are in the show, I choose to stand for what is right, and represent them as properly as my skills could. In the more technical side, I became good at drawing armors. And this little Actors AU Draw Series taught me to be responsible; I tried my very best to create and post them on time. This increased my productivity.
But enough about me.
There's something I realized two nights ago; we, the fandom, are Bad Batchers ourselves. We can consider ourselves a family, but not one of us is the same and we're all interesting, and capable in our own unique ways. We can have our own opinion and stand about something and still coexist. Like our favorite charactera, we embrace and celebrate our differences.
This show may end. No more Bad Batch Eves, no more cryptic tweets that cause us to hyperventilate, no more Bad Batch Wednesdays but it will live on, through us.
I know there will be a day where we decrease in number, one by one, little by little, but still, the show will live on through our actions, our opinions, our choices we make after May 1, 2024 because I know that all of us were changed in some ways by these characters and this show.
To the crew, your cryptic tweets caused me sleepless nights, but thank you so, so much. It is through your hardwork that we had this wonderful show. Thank you for making every second of the past year so worthwhile and enjoyable for me and for everyone.
However this show will end, whether happy or sad, I am glad it happened. However short my time was with them, I am happy I had been here. However short my time with everyone in the fandom was or if some of you leave one day, still, thank you so much for being part of my life; I am so happy I met all of you.
To Clone Force 99, thank you. I've never loved anything like this before. May the Force be with you.
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lovetei · 11 hours
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Obey me demon brothers reacting to mc being hit with a "special" potion by someone and them having to deal with mc being extremely horny and dominant plus having their back absolutely blown? (Btw I love your writing🫶🏼)
It's like 1 in the morning and my phone is at 8 percent, the best time to write.
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MC was affected by this mysterious potion that makes them crave for some back-breaking fuck
Warnings: No proofreading, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, smut, no censoring, reader is Implied to be wearing strap or having cock (a big one), fingering them, wrong use of car hood, choking, air deprivation, wrong use of ties, ovestimulation
Parts: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
Are you being serious?
You mean to tell him that the reason why you came home looking like that
Why you came home and immediately went inside his room
Is because you were affected by this strange potion?
That makes you feel like you're in heat?
It doesn't matter, he needs to check up on you and see if it's harmful or not
Or to see if he can do anything to help you, at least.
"A-AUGH!" Moans and screams that sounds too whiny to be his escaped his mouth as your fingers moved wilder. "Wait a second!" He screamed the second time before you added another finger.
He was drooling like a dog on top of his desk as his cock spurt out strings of cum, staining the dark wood of his desk. "You better keep your back like this or I'll have to force it then." You ordered after you grabbed his shoulder and made him arch his back.
"G-Give me a break atleast..!" Is the last thing he screamed after he felt something hard against his used ass.
MAMMON
He was panicking
He knew that this ingredient had an aphrodisiac like effect on humans
But he didn't know it would be this much.
Plus he meant no harm!
He simply fed you this bread during your night out to make things a little exciting!
"Stop fucking moving." You cursed out as you slammed in his ass harder making him moan even more "I-I'm trying..!" He sobbed out as you bent him over the hood of his car, one of his legs raised on it while his dick continued to leak pre.
"P-Please don't be mad! O-One more! I promise I'll do better!" He begged like a whore as he pushed himself closer to you, trying to push your length deeper.
And the last thing he remembered is how he passed out and woke up again with his legs up your shoulder as you relentlessly pound into him.
LEVIATHAN
He kind of knew that it has strong aphrodisiac in it
It was said in the warning after all
But he's a high ranking demon so of course it has no effect on him
And he forgot that you're still human despite having that enormous amount of magic
"Shhh... Breath in." You chuckled at him as he shakily inhaled, sweat coating his forehead as you pushed your fingers inside of him once again "A-Agh~ I think I really can't do it anymore..!" Panic settled in when he felt himself on the edge with just your fingers.
His breathing got more ragged and panicked as you moved your fingers "Don't say that! I know you can take it..." You tried to cover your annoyed mood by sweetening your words.
"N-No... I-I think I'll die..!" His cock leaked pre but your patience is just starting to run thin "Levi how about we shut up?" You pushed your fingers down his throat "You made me like this so take responsibility." You threatened.
SATAN
He saw this unique spell in one of his books.
It applies aphrodisiac on foods without needing an actual potion
And so he though, why not try it on you?
You have gained a pretty amount of mana since time time you first came here
You can handle this much right?
Satan held on the bookshelf for his dear life as he bit on the tie harder to surpress his moans "You might break the shelf at this rate..." You panted out as you pushed yourself deeper inside of him.
A groan escaped his throat as tears does from his eyes "No mwore!" He managed to say through the gag as he caressed his ass, red from all the spanking he received earlier.
You just held his hands and slammed all the way in, his knees completely giving up and your hands holding his up is the only thing preventing him from falling "There, there... I'll start moving now..." You sweetly said, ignoring his please.
ASMODEUS
He didn't mean to!
You just looked so hot earlier that he forgot he had this ability!
Accidentally putting aphrodisiac on your food... How horrible!
Don't worry, he'll take responsibility!
Rhythmic moan is the only thing that can be hear inside the dimly lit room of Asmodeus, oh, the slapping sound of his ass whenever it hits your waist too.
"Augh!~ I-I'm getting a little tired honey~" He moaned as he continued to bounce himself on top of you as you lazily sat on his sofa "Maybe a little help..?" He guided your hands to his waist, implying that he wants you to move him yourself.
When you didn't react, he looked back at you over his shoulders and saw how you look completely out of it, dilated pupils and red cheeks "You know... If I started moving you yourself I might break your fragile little waist." You whined out as he felt you grip him harder.
BEELZEBUB
He's really sorry!
He forgot about this aphrodisiac and how it's harmful for humans...
What do you mean he can help cure the pain?
Sure, he'll help!
You played with Beelzebub's vibrant hair as his mouth worked wonders for you "Just like that~" You moaned as you looked down at him.
"Am I helping you relive the pain..?" He pulled away for a minute, a string of saliva and cum connecting his lips from your thighs "Yes, Beel. You're doing so good~" You leaned down to give him a little kiss
"I'm pretty sure this is hurting too~" You moved your feet closer to his clothed cock, visibly hard and straining against his pants "Then... Can MC help me relive it later too..?" He asked which made you smirk.
BELPHEGOR
It started off as a harmless prank
It was supposed to be a harmless prank
He didn't know it would reach this far
And he never thought that you'll let it reach this far!
"F-Fucking hell! MC!" He managed to say between the small intervals where you raised his head and let him breath, it's sad that this is what he decided to say.
You slammed his head back down on the pillow and moved your hip back and forth, enough to push him forward and have him holding the bed frame.
And then he tapped your thigh signaling that he's about to cum, and being a nice human, you let him, but this time, you didn't raise his head to let him breath and now you can see the panic.
How he was struggling to push himself up as cum leak out of his cock continuously, you harshly pulled his hair to let him breath "A-Ah~ I-I can't breath please!" He was holding your hands as he begged, tears and sweat messing up his face.
It was a sight to behold before you push him back down.
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Fletcher and foxboy malewife are my favorite but what if.... fletcher and naga malewife? I think that'd be interesting
Yan Farmer Flemish Rabbit Hybrid + Naga Reader
[No pronouns used for Reader but they are referred to as wife and intended to be male]
-
"Give it back...... Give it back...."
A stalking plague falls upon the sleepy town. Residents of a once a bustling burrow of rabbits now lock their doors soon as the sun sets over the mountains in fear of the shadow lurking down every barren alleyway. Hunger pains, yet it does not seek the flesh of these creature. It hunts each night - a restless search for the item able to free it from this place. Anger and fear rule its mind, teeth flared at any and all who answer their pleas incorrectly. Confusion replaces the fear dread in the hearts of its victims at the accusations of theft. Regardless, the beast points their claws at whomever crosses their path til what they have lost is rightfully returned.
"Give it back...."
"This what you're lookin' for?"
A chain dangles freely from the rabbit's finger - moonlight bouncing off the blood red gem tailored to the sliver band attached to the end of the chain. There's something odd about this rabbit. Why does this one smell so... familiar?
The barn.
Your sanctuary from the raging storm has been the crux of all your troubles from the very beginning. This rabbit must be is caretaker then. You've seen him in passing, but had no interest in him besides his herd so you never paid much attention to the details. One that goes without saying is how large the man is. Your tail gives you leverage now, but if you don't get your ring back soon then surely-
"It's rude to keep what isn't yours. Give it to me."
"Hey, now- I found this on my property fair and square. I even waited the first couple of nights for you to come back, but you never showed. I was starting to worry I'd never see you again."
Does he enjoy the sound of his own voice? Something catches your eye over the rabbit's shoulder. A glimmer of yellow breaking over the horizon. Panic sets in as a tingle runs through the nerves of your tail. It won't be long now. You needed to act fast. The rabbit looked to be aware of your peril as he takes several steps back into the growing sunlight. Your hand recoils as it creeps towards you.
"Been watching you for a long time now. Long enough to know a small bit about this whole... situation you got going on. I'll give you this ring back - for a price.~"
He's stalling. Sunlight blinds your sight as that accursed ball of light peeks over the buildings. Your body slowly begins to shrink - tail splitting in two as you topple over from the sudden shift in your shape. You crash to the ground - the bulk of your scales receding into your all too human flesh as you land. The rabbit whistles, turning a bashful eye away from your nude figure.
"If humiliating me is what you wanted, I'd say you got what you wished. Can I have my ring back now?"
A curse passed down generation by generation. By night, you are your true self. By day, you are forced to walk this earth on two legs like the rest of animal kin. The disadvantage it puts you at is steep. Smaller, weaker, pitiful. That ring has the power to return you to your proper state even now. You have to get it back.
The rabbit appears offended by your words.
"Humiliate you? Now why on earth would I want to humiliate my wife? You'll get this ring back on our wedding day. I'd love to get you something flashy myself, but it's nicer to keep things in the family. Sooner we get married, sooner you get this back - got it?."
He.... can't be serious. You still return to your true form by sunset. You may be able to overpower him then. As things stood now, you had no chance. Not only was he bigger than you, but in the scarce chance you obtain the upper hand now the town's people are sure to come to his rescue before you can grab what's yours and flee.
"Alright. I will become your wife in exchange for what's mine."
The rabbit grins. "That's the spirit. Name's Fletcher by the way, but most folks call me Fetch. Thought you might like to know since we'll be stuck together from now on."
Fletcher pulls something from his shoulders as he approaches. A fuzzy blanket which he drapes around you as he lifts you off the cold ground. The bastard really has been watching you- Shuddering from the cold, you seek the warmth from his fur as you place your head to his chest - heart beat gone sporadic as you nestle your face deeper into the fluff. If you are to be stuck with him for now, it's better to play along than give away your true intentions so soon.
"Heh, let's get you home before you freeze out here. I'll make you something to eat and we'll get to know each other better before we start planning our special day."
That sounds.... pleasant. The food that is. You can't recall the last time you'd eaten. Hooking your arms around the rabbits neck, he carries you off in the direction of his home as the sleepy town you once terrorized wakes once more.
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surielstea · 24 hours
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“I could take you”
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Pairing: Acotar men x Fem!Reader (separately)
Summary: Reader teases her mate, saying she could take them in a fight, or in other places.
Warnings: All fluff, suggestive
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Rhysand
"I could take you," I surmise aloud. My mate, who was trying to sleep peeked one eye open.
"We just finished, I'm not one to complain but aren't you tired?" He grumbled and I giggled.
"Not sex, I could take you in a fight dummy," I punch his shoulder and his brows rise.
"Oh really?" He drags out, arm wrapping tighter around my torso, pulling me into his chest as darkness swarms the room. "Don't make me mist you," He mumbled tiredly into my neck and I rolled my eyes.
"I'm serious, I could," I urge. "I know just how I'd do it too," I trail my fingertips up his bare chest.
"You think about killing me often?" He presumes and I roll my eyes.
"I'm just saying, it'd be easy," I tease.
"Murder me in your dreams, you fiend," He huffed, stuffing his face into my breasts without thought.
"Only kidding Rhys, I'd never harm you," I reassure. "But I could," I add and he smiles against my chest at the absurdity of this mindless conversation.
Cassian
"I could take you," I cross my arms over my chest, sizing up my mate with narrowed eyes. The shirtless male looked at me with an arched brow while he drank deeply from his water. I had been watching him train for hours now, so long that it felt as if I had every one of his moves and skills memorized.
"You think so?" He challenges and I nod with a beaming grin, taking a step closer and staring up at him entirely innocent.
"I know so," I shrug. His smile only widens.
"I guarantee I could have you on your knees within seconds," He leans dauntingly close but I don't falter, keep my unwavering ground.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," I rise onto my toes and peck his lips. He seemed entirely thrown off by the mix of my kiss and the nickname, and that fact alone made me one thousand percent sure I could throw him off his rhythm in combat too, he might've called it cheating but I saw it as a strategic advantage of sorts.
“You want to spar or would you prefer to take me in other ways?" He taunted and I'd be lying if I didn't want both, though I decided I wanted one a little more.
"What are you waiting for tough guy?" I backed up towards the mats with a prideful smirk that mirrored his.
Azriel
My mate had his head in my lap while he read some non-fiction I had no interest in, much preferring to run my hands through his curls and watch his tense features morph into those of relaxation. My thoughts wandered in the comfortable silence, it began by thinking of what he was reading about, then the fact that he was smart and strong, and then it spiraled from there.
"I think I could take you in a fight," I mumble and his eyes that had been running across his page froze, then flicked up to mine.
"What was that, my love?" He closed his book, pausing whatever page he was in the middle of in order to give me his full attention.
"I could take you," I repeat and he blinks, then, to my surprise, he nods.
"Probably," He hums, cracking his book back open and offering no explanation as to why he thinks so.
Azriel was a competitive male, even with me. So when he said such a thing I was thrown entirely off my train of thought. "Wait— you're serious?" My hands stop combing through his hair and his bottom lip juts out in the absence of the ministrations, a grown male, pouting.
"When am I not?" He hummed and I rolled my eyes. The answer to that was more often than he'd care to admit.
"Why do you think I can?" I ask.
He shrugs simply before saying, "You'd probably use your witchcraft on me.” His eyes were entirely genuine. I push his head off my lap with a faux look of anger. He came back to me with full force, arms reaching around me and pulling me into him, his head pressing in the junction between my neck and shoulder. "I'm not a witch," I huff and he only smiles against my skin.
"Maybe not, but your seductive powers work too well on me," He explains and I roll my eyes. The powers he was referring to included a lingerie set and a few keywords that had him doing laps.
"It's not hard when I've got you wrapped around my finger," I sing and he sighs contentedly, pulling me closer, seemingly happy with with that statement, like he would never try to change that fact. Even if it meant I could take him down on a sparring mat.
Eris Vanserra
Eris was baking. An odd sight to see for anyone else but for me, it was a simple Sunday morning. I drifted into the kitchen with a drunken smile on my face as I slung my arms around his torso and draped myself over him. "What's that grin for?" He glances over at me before continuing to read whatever recipe he was following.
"Just thinking," I hum with a dazed look. It was no secret that today had been the peak of my ovulation in my cycle, my need for him was all-consuming. Yet here he was, baking my favorite flavor pie. "I wanna take you," I huff into his shoulder and he chuckles.
He makes a real show of ignoring my pleas and instead answers with an amused tone, "In a fight?"
I scowl, my frown deepening as I stare up at him— but then he had me thinking about it. "Why not?" I shrug.
"You sure you can?" He tilts his head down at me demeaningly— gods, he knows this is torture.
"Fine, you're too smart for me to beat in a fight but I could take you to other places," I wrap my arms around his neck and he sloppily smiles. "You're plenty smart, my sweet," His hands come to my hips, and his touch alone relieved sacred parts of me. I shake my head in denial. "C'mon, I've got a few weak spots I’m sure you could figure it out," He reassures, his voice soft. I didn't want to think about fighting him, I never wanted to have to.
"I love you too much to fight with you," I shrug, lifting up and pecking his lips innocently, void of my earlier arousal.
"That," He whispers against my lips. "That was one of my weak spots," He murmurs and I smile.
"Can you fuck me now or is this pie still more important than your very pretty, very needy mate?" I ask impatiently and he shakes his head with a charming expression. "Very needy, indeed."
Lucien Vanserra
“I could take you, and I don’t mean in a fight,” I say, head propped up on my mate's shoulder, peering up at him from inches away while he focused on peeling a tangerine for me. He simply laughs when he notices I’m serious, lips curling into a delighted smile.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” He mumbles and I flip over onto his lap, straddling his hips.
“I’ll let you figure that out,” I mumble with a shrug. He shakes his head, looking down at the fruit in his hand as he peels the rind.
“You’re ridiculous,” He mumbled under his breath and I grinned wildly.
“You love it,” I muse and he looks up to me, handing me the peeled orange, ready to be eaten.
“I do,” He confesses, and that look on his face makes my stomach blossom with warmth, overflowing with admiration and devotion.
I don’t know how to react, or what to do with all the love he gives me, so instead I say the first thing that comes to mind, “I could also take you in a fight, though.”
He leans closer with a teasing grin. “And why’s that sunshine?” He hums as I pop a slice of the tangerine into my mouth, the sweet taste of citrus making me smile.
“You wouldn’t be able to fight back,” I shrug and his brows crease in confusion.
“Cause I’d be too scared?” He presumes and I shake my head, swallowing my fruit.
“Because you love me,” I croon.
“Unfortunately,” He grumbles under his breath and my jaw drops in shock. “Lu!” I exclaim as I push his shoulders and he falls back into the couch.
“I’m only kidding sunshine, you know you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” He reassured with a lilt in his tone, making me roll my eyes.
“I’m seriously debating that fight right now,” I murmur and he smiles, hand coming to my cheek and pulling me into him.
“Such a drama queen,” He mumbles, pressing his mouth to mine before I can retort. I melt into him, hands coming to his cheeks with delicate touches, my thumb tracing the end of his scar. “I love you too much to fight back, too,” I admit, his smile only grows. “I know.”
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Ice cream might as well cure my depression | Inner Demons
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Alphabet Challenge, I - Ice cream might as well cure my depression
Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader
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"There you are," Leah exhales a sigh of relief as she walks into the medical room where she found you lay on the one of the medical beds with Katie sat beside you, as one of the medical staff accessed the damage on your bloody and bruised hands. "Oh my God, what happened?!" she questions, horrified as she sets her eyes on the scene in front of her.
"Found the kiddo taking her anger out on the wall," Katie chuckles slightly and shaking her head.
"Spoiler alert, the wall won," You murmer sarcastically from where you lay on the bed, trying to inject a bit of humour into the tense atmosphere, although the pain in your voice was still evident.
"What?" Leah repeats in atonishment at the news of what happened before she crouches down to kneel in front of you. "Oh bubs, why would you do that?" she questions, her initial shock turning into concern.
"Don't know, guess I just felt angry about everything. I feel like I'm not even allowed to make my own decisions now," You admitted your true feelings about things. "I guess I just didn't think and just lashed out."
Leah exhales another sigh and lightly brushes her thumb over your broken skin, "That must hurt a fair bit, huh?" she wonders.
Trying to not flinch at the contact, you bite your bottom lip and shake your head, "Nah, it barely hurts at all," You mumble, gritting your teeth.
"Liar," Katie chimes in amusedly, moving her hand to try and poke your hand to get your reaction.
"Okay, alright. I lied, it hurts like a mother--" You start to say as you're cut off.
"Don't even think about finishing that sentence the way I think you're about to do, Y/F/N!" Leah tells you in a stern tone of voice, but its' one that you're all too used to now.
"Trucker," You playfully grin at the older blonde.
The blonde pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, "You really are insufferable sometimes, bubs," she mutters before she turns her attention to the medic in the room. "So, do we know what's the damage then?" she questions, her voice sounding more serious than previously.
"Well, the x-ray shows it's not broken, but just bruised instead," The medic reports to Leah. "My recommendations are ice and elevation to reduce the swelling." They add on.
"Great, now I really can't play football after all, can I?" You question, sighing in frustration but you know you only have yourself to blame for this happening now.
"Guess not, I'm afraid bubs," Leah replies sympathetically in agreement.
"Wonderful," You mumble under your breath, now you really didn't have any choice but to not be able to play football.
"I'm sorry, I know this isn't what you wanted kiddo," Katie sympathsises with you, gently resting her hand on your shoulder.
"My own fault though, weren't it?" You ask rhetorically, although you still can't help but huff in annoyance about the situation.
Leah's gaze softens, "You know we're gonna need to go back in there and speak to Jonas, Kim and the rest of the staff still, don't you?" she reminds you.
"Yeah, I sorta guessed that," You mumble, exhaling a sigh.
"And you need to apologise for running out of there, as well, please?" Leah requests gently.
"Seriously?" You raise an eyebrow and resist the urge to scoff, however, seeing the look that Leah had on her face, it made you back down. "Fine, alright, whatever. Can we still get ice cream after this though?"
The blonde rolls her eyes at the mention of food, "Just as long as you don't go back in the meeting and blow up, then yes we can still go and get ice cream" she tells you in agreement, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Relax, I won't. I'm much more calmer now," You reassure her, shrugging her shoulders carelessly.
"Really? Cos' you just take your anger out on a wall. That doesn't really scream out 'fine' to me," Katie snickers, reminding you ever so kindly about the disagreement you had with the wall.
"I had my reasons!" You defend yourself over what happened.
"Right, come on. Lets' just head back in there and see what else needs to be said," Leah steers the conversation back on track with a firm but supportive tone of voice.
"No chance to escape out the side door?" You attempt to crack a joke with the blonde.
"Nope, not a chance. Come on bubs, it'll be fine," Leah reassures you, sending you a gentle and warm smile as you both head back to the room where you previously bolted before.
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"We're back, sorry about that," Leah is the first to speak up and address the room of people that are awaiting your return.
You feel awkward walking into the room, you really hadn't mean to storm out in the way that you did.
Completely forgetting that you needed to apologise, you feel a slight nudge in your ribs, "Ow. What the--" Seeing the stern look from the blonde makes you remember what needed to be said. "Oh yeah, uh... I... I uh, I'm sorry for storming out like that. It weren't right and I apologise," You muster up the courage to apologise to them all sat around the large table.
"That's okay, Y/N. We can understand it's a lot to take in so far," Jonas nods in understanding, motioning to an empty chair. "Please, take a seat and we can continue with the meeting." he states.
Kim's eyes immediately are drawn to your knuckles as she furrows her eyebrows in concern, "Kid, what happened to your knuckles?" she questions.
"Oh uh that was just a disagreement with the wall," You give your captain a wry smile as you hold up your bruised hand. "Let's just say that the wall won this round."
"Y/N, we can understand what you're going through must be difficult and we want you to have the time to step back and focus on that," Jonas speaks up with a gentle tone of voice, his concern being evident.
You wonder if Leah can sense your uneasiness about the topic of conversation as she reaches out to gently take a hold of your hand, "It's okay, bubs. I've got you." she whispers quietly to reassure you that she's still there.
"What you've been through-- What you're going through is a lot to deal with, a challange, especially at your age." Jonas continues to speak his thoughts aloud. "As a club, we want to be able to help you in way that we can. So we have brought in a therapist, someone that you will be able to talk too--"
"Whoa, whoa, hold up!" You hold up your hand to cut your coach off from his concerned speel of speech. "A shrink... You want me to talk to a shrink?" You stutter in disbelief.
"Y/N--" Kim attempts to speak.
You whip your head round as you stare at the unfamiliar women in the room, "Wait, is this who this woman is?" You question, looking between all of the adults in the room.
"Bubs, just calm down," Leah chimes in, sensing your upset feelings very clearly right now.
"I'm a therapist actually," The unfamiliar women cuts in the conversation. "My name is Helen, it's nice to meet you properly, Y/N." she introduces herself.
You can't help but scoff lightly and shake your head, "You can call yourself whatever you want, I'm not talking to you," You state stubbornly, a bad trait of yours but who were you to just open up your feelings to this women? You didn't even know her, and now everyone thinks they have an opinion of what to do, who you should speak too?
It's your life, why can't people just let you live it the way that you want?
"It's bad enough that I already had to go through this talking to someone bullshit when I was on my spontaneous holiday," You snap in anger, you really didn't like this one bit.
"Holiday?" Jonas questions, confusion evident in his voice.
"She means when she was detained," Leah deadpans, shooting you a look.
"Yeah, sure, whatever, I was held in a psych ward against my own will, call it whatever the hell you want!" You fling your arms around in the air, feeling yourself getting worked up and you really fight hard against the idea of bolting out the room again. "I don't care who you are, shrink or therapist, I'm not talking to you."
"Y/N, come on. Please at least try and be open with Helen," Kim tries to reason with you. "You know that we just want to help you."
"Bubs, it might be good for you to talk to her," Leah chimes in with a gentle but still firm tone of voice.
"I'm only here for you to talk too," Helen, your new therapist pipes in with her ever so cheerful voice and that's something you are definitely not a fan off.
"I guess I don't have much choice, either way, do I?" You slump your shoulders in realisation about the whole situation.
"Well..." Jonas hesitates to speak.
"Cut the bullshit, Jonas," You cut him off as the frustration begins to bubble up to the surface.
"Y/N!" Kim chides you.
"Language, Y/N!" Leah adds in.
"Geesh, calm down, Captain America," You mutter, rolling your eyes as you slump back against the chair you're sitting on.
"Y/N," Leah reprimands, shooting you a stern look.
"In order for you to return to the pitch, we as a club believe it's important that you attend these therapy sessions," Jonas continues his explanation, giving you all of his attention. "Until you have attended them, we think it might be best if you step back from training and games until you're in a better place."
"Right, so I really don't have much of a choice then after all," You mutter, the realisation hitting you clear on. "How many?"
"How many?" Kim repeats, confused.
"How many sessions of therapy do I need to partake in before I'm cleared to take part in training and games again?" You wonder, curiously.
If that's what it took to get you back on the pitch, then you'd fake a smile and spill whatever words that this so call shrink wanted to hear you tell her, if it meant getting back on the pitch then what's you would do.
"As many as it takes, Y/N. Healing has no time limit," The ever so annoying therapist in your opinion spoke up at the moment. "Once you attend the first session, we can begin to work and create a plan with set goals for your future." she explains in a irritating perky voice.
"Yep, so I really don't have much choice at all, that's wonderful," You murmer under your breath as you try and slump down further in your seat if that's at all possible.
Kim pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, "Your sass is too much right now," she states.
"Haven't you missed me? I'm a delight to be around!" You cheekily grin at your captain, trying to mask your true feelings about it all.
"We get that you may not be happy with the decisions, Y/N, but as a club, we all believe this is what will help you the most," Jonas explains to you, trying to defuse the tension in the room.
"What would help me would be allowing me to play football," You remark, letting your frustration show.
"Anything apart from that," Another member of the staff chimes in, amusedly.
"I think when I preffered in I was in the pysch ward after all," You can't help but make the sarcastic comment about things, like your usual way to cope with things head on.
"Y/N!" Leah exclaims in disbelief, scowling at you.
"What? I like dark humour, sue me," Shrugging your shoulders carelessly, you turn and look at the blonde women. "So, can we go and get ice cream now? Cos' you promised after all."
Leah let's out a small laugh and shakes her head, ""Seriously, bubs? You and your obsession with ice cream." She states in amusement.
"You can't go back on a promise, Le," You remind her, having the blonde wrapped around your finger.
---------------
You were happy enough to sit in a small shop, enjoying the ice cream as promised, although your attempt to lighten the mood with a joke didn't go a miss with Leah, she noted the pain behind your eyes straight away.
The blonde frowns in concern as she sits at the table opposite you, "Bubs, I know you're trying to mask how you really feel. I can tell that you're holding back. Tell me how you really feel, please?" she asks.
You swirl your spoon around the pot of ice cream in your hand and do your best to avoid Leah's gaze for a moment before finally sighing, "I guess... I guess that I'm just frustrated, Le. The whole therapy, I hate talking to people like them, but it's like I don't even have a choice now when I can't go back on the pitch until I speak to her," You admit your feelings, exhaling another sigh. "I guess I didn't help matters either by lashing out at the wall."
"I get how you feel bubs," Leah nods sympathetically, reaching out to gently place her own hand in yours. "I know it hurts, but just remember that we're all doing this because we care about you so much-- I care about you so much, your like my own kid, you know despite the age difference, but you know, finding you like that in the way that I did, I felt scared and I thought I was going to loose you. I don't ever want to feel like that again."
Swallowing the lump that forms in your throat, you peer up slightly to try and hold off the tears from escaping, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry that I scared you like that," You whisper quietly, never fully realising how other people must have felt to see you that way. "I... I love you, Le. I'm glad that I have you around to take care of me."
"I love you too, bubs... So, so much!" Leah replies as she squeezes your hand reassuringly, "Even if I have to put up with your obsession with ice cream and dark humour. I know it's hard to accept the help, but you're not alone in this. I'm here with you every single step of the way, okay?" She tells you.
"Thanks, Le," You manage a small smile, feeling a bit lighter with the blondes' support and words. "I guess I can try and keep an open mind about this therapy thing." You state, shrugging your shoulders.
"That's all I ask my girl," Leah replies, smiling warmly at you. "I know it'll be hard, but you're strong enough to handle it and you're not ever going to be alone." She adds.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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lovemomhatepolice · 2 days
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lando norris nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)
navigation taglist requests
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) No matter how rough and long you have sex, Lando behaves like a typical Lando afterwards. Of course he giggles under his breath, as if it was his first time. And he freaking blushes!!! He then loves to cuddle up to you even more (as he stresses - you need to appreciate the contact of naked body to naked body) and you lie together for a long time before you go to prepare a bath together or a quick shower (depending on your mood) while you wash each other. Oh, how he loves to wash your hair….
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Lando loves his abs in himself. Well, I beg to differ, superbly muscled, gym-trained…. Yes, Lando is definitely proud of it, and especially when he sees that you like it too. That works on him the most. He also likes her eyes, I think for many reasons, but I beg - who wouldn't love those bright beautiful eyes? Exactly!!!
What does Lando love about you? I think it will also be the eyes. The boy loves to look into them and could do it for hours. They are such a damn mystery to him, and yet he knows them so well. He loves to look into them when you are happy and they sparkle or when you squint them with laughter. But he definitely loves to look into them when you close them from the euphoria that grips your body during your sex. A better view Lando has never seen before, I promise.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Lando loves to see you in his cum. I know how it may sound, but there is no better sight for him than your lips around his cock or your shapely breasts that are all in his seed.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Without hiding it, Lando has fantasized more than once and more than twice about being completely dominated by you. The very fact that he adores you on top during sex says a lot. He loves it when you take control, and all he has to do is hold your hips to support you as you bounce. Even so, this doesn't happen too often and mostly Lando takes control, but in his head for a very long time exactly such thoughts have been forming….
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I wouldn't say that Lando is some very experienced. He had a few sexual experiences with other women before you, but nothing binding (except his previous girlfriend), so I think he only started to discover the depths of sex with you. But you can't deny that he is vague or can't do something. God, I swear, Lando is the fulfillment of your every need.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Nothing fancy, let's not kid ourselves - despite the fact that you are young, you do not overdo it. Lando's and your favorite positions? Oh, definitely cowgirl. Norris loves to see your breasts bouncing right in front of his face. When you let out a quiet moan as he fills you to the brim. When he can look at your face constantly and sneak kisses that aren't very precise. And his other beloved position is total wall sex. No matter where - whether in the shower or in the kitchen or even in the hallway. Lando loves to do this, especially since at this point you are completely dependent on him and he hugs you with his whole body.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Well, I beg you - you know Lando. The giggles in your bedroom (and not just your bedroom) are an integral part of sex. As I mentioned - the boy also blushes all the time. So no, serious sex with him is not an option. Even if you have a damn intense and romantic moment, Norris will always pull out some funny line and say it. Unless he is angry, oh, then his laughter you won't hear for a damn thing, but how long does it last? A maximum of two hours and it passes. Lando can't get mad.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I don't think this is one of the thoughts that occupies his head in any particular way, but I think he has a neat. He shaves there out of habit, but it's not always a 100 percent shave, so I think you've seen a light stubble more than once. And as for you, I think he doesn't have too many requirements either. As long as it was neat and hygienic, yes it gives you free rein. After all, it's not his body (well, kinda like that…), the decision is yours.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Well, all right, but despite his giggles and funny tics, you will hear from his mouth lots and lots of comments about yourself. How good you are to him, how great he feels, how much he loves you…. Lando is a romantic - he may not show it too often in a serious way, but all of his still small youthful acts (even though he is already 25) are infused with love. If you tell him once that you want to make love by candlelight in a bathtub full of foam - voila! The next day, or maybe even the same day, your wish comes true.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Well, Lando does not shy away from masturbation. Rather, he doesn't practice it often because you are constantly next to each other and his level of sexual gratification is in the right place, but if you happen to be away, why not? But it should be acknowledged that he has never masturbated to any videos or photos or anything not related to you since your relationship began.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Dom/Sub sex - As I mentioned before, Lando often has thoughts in his head that you should totally dominate him. But I don't mean some kind of BDSM (although…) or degradation. Simple domination over him, though, here. Since you are 50/50 in life…. Well, and maybe a little voyeurism - he wouldn't mind if you entered the room, if he was just masturbating. Or the other way around. He himself also would not forgive such a view.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Couch or shower. I don't know why, Lando just has it that way. He loves sex on the couch probably because then you're mostly upstairs and he can spread out on your damn comfy couch. And the shower? That's the realm of greater intimacy for him. He really enjoys taking a bath with you, even when it's just a simple bath - without sexual overtones.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) You. Simply you. Lando still has a boner with you, which is of course damn funny for you, but well, don't kid yourself, we both know that you also get your panties wet at the sight of him. Whether morning or evening, whether in sweatpants or a elegant dress. It doesn't matter to him. You are so damn beautiful and exciting to him that such silly things as clothing go away. You could even be in a straitjacket and he would continue to appear extremely clingy next to you.
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A/N: part two is already here! english is my second language
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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yabakuboi · 1 day
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merman steve pt 2
a continuation of this for @spectrum-spectre, now with some pre-steddie~!
Henderson is skulking around in the cereal aisle when Eddie spots him.
The kid has been a bit of enigma to Eddie since he met him at the beginning of last fall semester. Dustin had a tight group of friends, but often times, he caught the gang of them sans Henderson and the fact seemed to annoy the hell out of them.
"He just goes off on on his own sometimes," Baby Beyers would say.
"He won't tell anyone where or why or with who," Mini Wheeler would snarl.
"And it's definitely not to talk to his girlfriend, because we hear ALL about that," Big Sinclair would sigh, rolling his eyes.
So catching kid creeping around the grocery store minus the rest of his party, after hearing many complains of his mysterious disappearances? Color Eddie intrigued.
"Hendersooon," Eddie sang, wrapping an arm around Dustin's neck to keep him from escaping. "Whatcha doing?"
"Eddie!" he said brightly, grinning at him. "Just buying some snacks. Hey, which cereal do you think a fish can eat?"
Eddie stares at him for a moment, blinking. "Uh..."
Henderson's face scrunches up. "I guess he's not really a fish though, so I'll try whatever." He grabs a box of Honey Combs from the shelf.
"Dude, are you keeping a sea turtle at your house again? You know that's illegal."
"No!" Henderson snaps, flushing. "And I was going to take Dart back after show and tell, I had already promised Steve!"
"Steve?" That was a new name. Eddie hadn't heard Henderson talk about a Steve before, and the guy was kind of a motormouth and a terrible liar. The only time Eddie had seen him actually avoid a topic was when his little disappearing acts were brought up. "Who's Steve?"
Henderson's eyes go comically wide. "No-one! I don't know any Steves!"
Eddie knew at least three Steves, and two were in Henderson's grade. "Uh-huh."
"Anyways," Dustin says, clutching the box of Honey Combs to his chest as he backs down the aisle. "I gotta go man, nice seeing you, bye!"
Bemused, Eddie watches him go. He's planning to give Henderson a five minute head start before he goes to tail him, but apparently, he needn't to have planned a stake out after all. Henderson finds him again, two aisles over, panting and red-faced.
"Actually, can you give me a ride?"
🧜‍♂️
"Eddie," Henderson says, voice even more serious and deadly than the time the party took on Vecna last month during their campaign. "I need you to swear that you will never, ever tell anyone about what I'm going to show you."
Eddie cocks a brow at him. "Is this a drugs thing? Dude, you—"
"No!" Henderson snaps. "This is not a drug thing! This is a very serious life and death thing, and I need you to swear on you life you won't tell anyone about it."
"Dude," Eddie says, a little in awe. He stares out his windshield for a moment where they're still parked just outside of town. He can hear sounds of the ocean just past the ridge, waves crashing on the cliffs. It's a remote little area, opposite of the tourist favored beaches. Eddie, in fact, deals just a few miles down the shoreline from here. "Did you bring me out here to kill me? Are you the world's dorkiest serial killer?"
"Eddie." Eddie turns to look at him. His face is grave, brows furrowed with real worry. "I'm serious."
"Okay... Okay, then."
"You have to swear."
"I swear."
And just like that, Henderson's face breaks into a bright smile. "I knew I could trust you!" he crows, grabbing up his bag from the store and kicking open his door.
Eddie stumbles out of his van after him, listening intently as they pick their way over the rocks.
"He's so cool, Eddie, you're going to love him. He totally saved my life when I was like ten and I got pulled out on a rip tide. Like, I really almost died dude and then he just swims up out of no where and helps me catch my breath. Helps me float there while I'm freaking out too until the life guard finally came out to get me. It was crazy! I come out here all the time to visit him, I think he gets a little lonely. So it's good you're here, I've been trying to think of someone else to introduce him to, but it's hard to figure out who's going to freak out and try to sell him to Sea World, or something."
They crest over the hill to a tiny little cove bitten out of the rocky shore, and carefully begin to make their way back down to the water's edge. Eddie's still not entirely sure Henderson hasn't brought him here to die. Maybe Steve is the serial killer and he uses Henderson as bait.
"Okay, okay," Dustin says, once they reach the water. It's calmer here, the cliffs cutting this spot off from the larger waves. "Are you ready to see the coolest thing EVER?"
"Uh, sure, kid—"
Eddie doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence when he starts yelling.
"STEVE THIS IS EDDIE I BROUGHT HIM TO MEET YOU I PROMISE IT'S SAFE!"
"Jesus Christ," Eddie hisses, covering his ears. The lungs on this kid! "What the fuck dude— WHAT THE FUCK!!"
Because when he looks down, there is a face in the water. Eddie falls back on his ass, uncaring of the water soaking his jeans, and screams when the face in the water rises up out the ocean.
It looks pissed.
"Dustin," it says, glaring at Eddie. Eddie screams again, because it—the guy—the mermaid lifts himself fully onto the rocks, and he doesn't have any legs. Because he has a fucking tail.
A fucking fish tail.
"Steve!" Dustin cheers. "You came out."
"You sure?" the goddamn mermaid asks, finally taking his piercing, alien eyes off of Eddie to look at him. "Sure it safe?"
"Absolutely," Dustin says hastily, crouching beside Eddie to put his hands on his shoulders. "Eddie just screams a lot, I promise you, he's totally safe."
"R-Right," Eddie says, because he does not want to be eaten. Maybe Dustin's been dragging unsuspecting victims here to feed his pet goddamn mermaid instead of a serial killer. "Totally safe, that's me."
Steve, the goddamn fucking mermaid, looks him up and down doubtfully, and it's terrifying having those eyes on him, unnaturally yellow surrounded by black. His face is distressingly human, nose and mouth and ears with a mop of dark hair on his head. He has these bright shimmering scales across his cheekbones that dot down his jaw and neck, iridescent and glimmering in the afternoon sun. Eddie can't bring himself to look down further, scared and enraptured all at once.
Steve is terrifying and beautiful to look at.
"Fine," says Steve and pushes himself gracefully back into the water, disappearing into the dark depths.
"What the fuck," Eddie breathes. He looks up at Dustin with wide eyes. "Dude, what the fuck."
Dustin just grins down at him. "Isn't he the coolest?!"
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celandeline · 2 days
Note
Hiiii bestie, can we get an angry Carl x reader, leading to smut
Yes we can!
Make It Up To You
Carl Grimes X Reader (SMUT), oneshot
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“What the hell were you thinking?” 
You’ve never seen Carl this mad before. Sure, you’ve seen him get mad - pissed off, sulky, more snappy than usual - but you’ve never seen this. This is something else. This has his eye brimming with rage, and an ugly curl to his lips, like he’s getting ready to spit venom. 
“Anyone would have done the same!” You shoot back, brows furrowed. You don’t really understand why he’s mad at you. Going back into the department store after a bunch of walkers broke in wasn’t the smartest thing you could have done, sure, but you weren’t just going to leave Tara behind. Not when she’s saved your ass before. And you’re fine - a little scratched up from climbing through that broken window, but that's it - no bites, nothing serious. 
“It was stupid, and risky, and you could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Carl spits. 
Now you’re starting to get mad too - you’re tired, you haven’t really even gotten a chance to sit down since you and the rest of your run group got back, and now Carl’s in your face, almost shouting at you. “What happened to ‘we don’t leave anyone behind’?” You shoot back. “You’re saying I should have just left her there?”
“No! I’m just saying, instead of running in by yourself, you could have gone back in with the rest of the group. You know it’s stupid to go anywhere on your own, you could have at least asked someone to watch your back, or draw some of them away or something.” He says. 
“Sorry - there wasn’t a whole lot of time to draw up a plan before she would’ve gotten eaten.” You snark back at him. “And, in case you haven’t noticed,” You gesture down to the rest of yourself. “I’m perfectly fine. I can handle myself.”
“Couldn’t handle asking for backup, apparently.” He says, icy blue gaze boring into you. 
“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask. “It’s fine - I’m fine, Tara’s fine, everyone got back safe. Yes, I could have died, I know, I don’t need you lecturing me about the risks-”
“Maybe you do, ‘cause it seems like you forgot-” He cuts you off. 
“Fuck off.” You spit, turning around to head back to your house. You don’t need this right now - you just got back from risking your ass to get supplies for the town, and yeah, there were a couple really close calls when you went back in to save Tara. All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, get a fresh change of clothes. But instead, you got an angry Carl Grimes trying to lecture you about shit you already know. You don’t even know why he cares so much - sure, you’re friends, but the way he was so angry-
“Where are you going?”
You roll your eyes at the sound of him following you, and don’t bother to turn around to look at him. “Home.”
He falls into step beside you, still glaring at you from under the rim of his hat. “You can’t just walk away in the middle of a conversation-”
“Didn’t feel like a conversation to me.” You interrupt him. “Felt like you were just shouting at me about how stupid I am.” 
“I didn’t-” He starts. “That’s not- I wasn’t trying to say that you’re dumb-”
“Well, you did. Quite a few times, actually.” You cut him off, heading up the steps to your porch. You turn around to face him once you get to the door. “Look, Carl, I’m really not in the mood to keep doing this right now-”
“I don’t think you’re dumb.” He says, the anger in his voice turning into urgency. “And I’m not trying to say that you’re weak or can’t handle yourself, or that you shouldn’t have gone back to save Tara, but it was risky. Too risky, and it didn’t have to be, and if it had gone bad, I don’t-” His voice cracks, and he stops himself. 
You wait for a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, you roll your eyes. “Careful,” You snark. “It almost sounded like you were going to say something nice about me. If you’re done, I’m gonna go shower-”
His lips are on yours before you can really realize what’s happening, and on instinct you pull away. “Carl.” You say, brow furrowed as you look him in the eye, searching for… something, to explain what the fuck is going on. 
“If you died, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He says, lips only an inch away from yours. All the anger in him has turned into pleading, his eyes wide, searching your gaze the same as you search his. 
“So, what, you shout at me the moment I get home?” You ask. 
“I’m sorry.” He says. “Really. I just- I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Please.”
-
Most of the time, you find the extravagance of the houses in Alexandria a little annoying. It only serves as a reminder to before, how your mom used to cut out pictures of places like this to scrapbook into her future plans journal. It only serves as a reminder to how much your dad would grumble about ‘rich people shit’ when he got home from the construction site. 
Now though, you find yourself a little grateful for the heated flooring in the ensuite master bathroom, and the spacious glass shower. The glass is almost completely covered with steam from the hot water cascading out of the showerhead, and you can only see the faintest reflection of yourself, back against the tile as Carl fucks you.  
He’s propped up above you, watching you reverently as his hair drips water onto your cheeks. You keep running your hands through the wet strands, trailing your fingernails across the nape of his neck to make him shiver, despite the heat of the shower. 
“Fuck.” He gasps, dropping down to press his chest against yours and tuck his head into the crook of your neck. 
“Mmm.” You return, taking the opportunity to mouth at the side of his neck, gently sinking your teeth into the skin there. He moans again, and his hips stutter against yours, briefly losing his rhythm before regaining it. You trail your lips upward to bite at the lobe of his ear, and grin when he falters again. 
“Stop doing that.” He pants, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to look down at you again. 
“Why?” You ask, winding your arms around his shoulders to tug him down for a quick kiss. “I can tell you like it-”
“I’m supposed to be the one - mm, fuck - making it up to you, not the other way around.” He says. 
“You already picked - ah - all of the walker guts out of my hair, I think your debt is paid.”
He shakes his head, little droplets of water flying out of his hair. “Not until I make you cum.”
He throws himself back into fucking you with his full focus, burying his head back into the crook of your neck to mouth at your collarbones, panting heavy against your skin. You let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the ride. It’s good - surprisingly. He’s done this before, you think - Enid, probably - enough times to know what works and what doesn’t, and if he keeps going at the rate he is, he might actually get you to finish without you having to help him along. 
“You’re so pretty.” He says, breathy against your skin. 
You open your eyes again, and run a hand up his spine, causing him to arch into you. “You should’ve just - fuck,” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust. “Told me you liked me.”
“Probably.” He agrees. “Didn’t - mm - want you to say no though.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious I wouldn’t have.” You breathe, winding a hand into his hair again, holding him against you as the coil in your stomach tightens. 
“How was I supposed to, ah, know?” He asks, lifting his head out of your neck.
“Could’ve asked-” You tip your head back against the tile as you feel yourself nearing the edge. “Fuck, Carl-”
He groans, low in the base of his throat, and speeds up his thrusts, snapping his hips against yours. “Please,” He moans. “Please, please-”
You sigh as you cum, and pull him down against you. You’re more relaxed than you’ve ever been as you come down, between the sex and the heat of the shower around you. Carl doesn’t take too long to follow, letting out a few more hiccuping moans before he pulls out, shooting his cum onto the floor of the shower. You watch it get carried away down the drain as you catch your breath. 
Carl plops himself down on the floor of the shower next to you with a satisfied smile. “Good?”
“Very.” You agree, pulling yourself up from where you were sprawled on the floor.
A moment passes between you, the only sound is that of the shower water hitting the tile, and you take a minute to just look at him, taking in just how pretty he is. 
“Sorry again.” He says, breaking the silence. “For yelling at you. And, um, not telling you that I liked you.”
“S’okay.” You say, because it is. “We got there, eventually.”
He laughs a little. “Yeah.”
You grin at him. “We’re going to have to clean off again.”
“That’s alright with me.” He says, returning your smile.
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beary-rambles · 2 days
Text
i just found out my boyfriend is a werewolf?!?!
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summary: You overhear a super strange conversation between your long term boyfriend and brother.
r.q: hiii :) i LOVE your blog and fics and was wondering if you would consider writing a fic were jace is a werewolf. I don't have any particular trops in mind, ill let your Imagination run free. love you and take care 💞🫶🏻
w.c: 1.5k
cw: modern/supernatural (not the show) au, college cregan and jace, cregan’s twin!reader gn!reader, werewolf! cregan and jace, sort of a crack fic idk but not really, cliche werewolf i didnt try to do anything crazy with it, semi dialogue heavy, idk this ones just a fluff stupid fic
a.n: needed a cleanser from my longer fic so take this !! i tried to have fun with this and didn’t want to take it too seriously so i hope you guys like it!! LOVE UUU
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Its been a week since you’ve spoken to your boyfriend. Its not your fault. What are you supposed to do when you overhear a conversation like that?
About a week ago you had gotten out of class early and you knew jacaerys was at your brothers place so you decided to pick up lunch for all three of you to surprise them. You try your best to quietly open the door and step in, opening your mouth to call to them but you shut your mouth quickly hearing your boyfriend Jace.
“You can’t tell them.” This has you curious but more so a little angry. you didn’t peg jacaerys for the type to do shit behind your back but you never really know. So you instead quickly move to stand hidden from view to listen to them.
“You can’t hide this type of thing from them man, what the hell are they gonna think when they find out.”
“they won’t”
You hear your brother let out a big groan, “They needs to know Jace they’re my fucking family im not gonna let you play around with them.”
Jacaerys voice changes and he starts to sound more angry, “You know im completely serious about them cre.”
“Then tell them you're a fucking werewolf.”
*……..*
*……..*
*…….*
*What?*
What the hell we’re they talking about? Werewolves? is this some type of sigma male podcast shit? or is he like into abo? You don’t understand.
“You haven’t told them you're a werewolf either cre.”
*WHAT?*
You almost pop your head around the corner to ask them what the fuck they we’re talking about because you could not wrap your head around what they were talking about? Werewolves aren’t real. Maybe they heard you enter and we’re trying to play a prank on you.
“You know i plan to you piece of shit.”
“Then don’t get on my ass about not telling them yet.”
“fine. but once i tell them you have to tell them man, i don’t like you keeping them in the dark.”
“i will i will i swear. You got a cover for this Friday?”
“Camping trip. Already let them know. Fuck i hate full moons man.” you do remember cregan telling you they we’re planning on going out for the whole weekend on a camping trip. You don’t like camping so you said no when he asked if you wanted to come, you thought he had a weird face on after you said no but now you’re thinking it was a face of relief.
They seemingly switch topic talking about what they were planning on eating and you look back at your car you can see from the window and remember you left the food in there. You can’t just enter now?! you have to leave, so once again you slowly leave the house praying that they had no clue you were there. You get back to your car and take your food from the bag before you walk the takeout bag to the door and leave it at the doorstep before running back to your car and driving off.
You only pull out your phone to text them you left them food but couldn’t stay to eat since you had a project to work on before you throw your phone to the back seat and let out a shaky breath. They had to be fucking kidding right? but for some odd reason it all made sense. Every month, and based on your calendar it always landed on a full moon, your brother and your boyfriend always happened to be busy and couldn’t be around.
Both of them are oddly strong, Your boyfriend often joked that he could smell you from a mile away when you asked why he never jumped when you tried to surprise him. when you went out to dinner with him on your first date you thought he would be a pretentious prick when he ordered a very rare steak but he just laughed it off nervously and told you that's just how he likes it. The more and more you think about him and his odd habits you come to agree with the disturbing realization.
He was a fucking werewolf.
It was easy to avoid the two of them for the first couple days. you had your own apartment so you didn't have any reason to have to go to your brothers but jacaerys was a lot harder to avoid. He would text you all the time asking if you wanted to hang or if you were free to go out with him and you feel really bad whenever you would say no or leave his messages unanswered. It was the worst when yesterday he had come knocking at your door. You didn't open it. Too nervous to face him. Your heart broke when you hear his dejected sigh before he walked away.
Today however he had not texted you at all. you begin to worry. You don’t want to break up with him. You love him, but you're not exactly sure how to approach all this. You can’t just ask reddit, hey, what do i do when i find out my boyfriend of two years is a fucking werewolf??? but you couldn’t sit still during class, Why hadn’t he reached out? he always says good morning but it was well into late afternoon and he still has not said a word to you.
You’re not paying attention when you leave class and end up running into somebody. Apologizing before you take a step back and freeze. “Jace.” He lets out a smile and a nervous breathy laugh, “Hi baby.” You let out a hushed hi and his eyes dart all over your face with nervous. “Come.” You can’t reject him when he’s standing right in front of you, so when he grabs your hand you make no move to protest and let him lead you.
Soon enough your following him to the park and gasp when you see a set up picnic table, he turns to you nervously. “You’ve been busy recently and we haven’t spent a lot of time together-” You cup his cheeks and press a kiss against his lips pulling away and giving him a big smile. All the past days worried washed away from you as you admire you cute boyfriend. “I love it.” He grins and pressed a peck to your lips as leads you two to sit down on the bench side by side, he’s always preferred to sit next to you than across from you.
You can tell that all the food inside the basket is store bought but it doesn’t matter, he’s never been much of a cook anyway. After awhile you had even forgotten why you hadn’t seen him until he quiets down and looks at you. “are we good?”
“are you a fucking werewolf?”
He freezes. You hadn’t meant it for it to come out like that but how else do you word asking him something like this? “its just i heard you and cregan have this really weird convo and i started to think about it and it made sense, i don't know im sorry i just-” he shushes you lightly and cups you cheeks turning your head towards him. “I am. and im sorry i never told you, i should have i know but its a difficult thing to bring up.”
You just nod your head lightly and sigh. “Werewolves are fucking real.” He laughs, “Yes.” “is it like twilight?” “no.” “you didn't put like a mark on me?” “is that a twilight thing?” “Youve never seen it?” “i don’t watch things with wolves in them it gives me the ick.” “we need to watch them.” “are you even listening to me?” “oh oh is it like teen wolf?” “absolutely not.” “ugh wait you’ve seen teen wolf?” “baela forced me to watch it.” “is baela a werewolf?” “no a witch.” “ughh lucky i would love to be a witch.”
“You believe me?” You tilt your head at him, “Why wouldn’t i? don’t tell me your lying to me.” he shakes his head as he smiles at you, “No no its just, i didn’t think this would go over so well.” You give him another peck on the lips, “I just wish you told me sooner, asshole. and i wanna know how all this shit works.” “deal.” You two share another kiss and press your foreheads against each other.
“So if cregans a werewolf then why am i not?”
“Wait you know cregans a werewolf?”
a.n i realized its a little weird that they didn’t notice you were there because they have a good sense of smell but im just thinking they were too lost in the conversation or you are over to cregans place often enough that his place smells like you. whatever ! idk!
perm jacaerys taglist: <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife
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lurvly-malice · 2 days
Text
"What are you doing to me?"
Pairing: Harvey x GN!Farmer
Summary: Just Harvey being smitten for the farmer whose always occupying his clinic, and mind
A/N: just a fluffly drabble, because Harvey's been dominating my mind lately and I'm bored lol
With each reckless adventure you pursued, you returned to his clinics doorstep with a collection of scratches, bruises, and cuts, and of course, the innocent smile that adorned your face - the sight would be the death of him.
 And each time, he would usher you into the clinic in alarm, he was beginning to suspect you did this on purpose, with the proud look in your eyes that suggested you had him right where you wanted as he doted on you.
'It’s only been a week, really, you would think you’d take more care of yourself by now' he often said under his breath, his voice trembling with nervousness.
You would chuckle, laughter so infectious, brushing off your injuries as normal relics of your adventures. 'Just a few bumps and bruises…nothing you haven't seen before.' you retort, alluding to your countless visits for this sort of thing. 
Harvey's lips would twitch into a wry smile as he guided you to the examination table. Your adventurous spirit both fascinated and alarmed him. It was foreign to him, and couldn't fathom how willingly you’d over exert yourself in those darn mines, stirring within him a whirlwind of emotions.
As he applied bandages and ointments, his hands couldn't help but tremble. The sight of your injuries, no matter how trivial, sent his heart into a frenzy. As a doctor, he'd seen such it all, and yet even the sight of a purple bruise on your soft skin made him want to faint. Each touch of your skin ignited a spark he could neither ignore nor deny, no matter how much practice he’d had treating patients every day. He'd learnt his lesson by now - you weren't a regular patient.
‘I really do wish you’d be more careful,' he would murmur, his fingers tracing over a shallow cut on your arm. 'You... you're hurt too often.'
And then you would respond with a comment like ‘but you’ll take good care of me, right?’, casually sending the poor man’s heart into a tailspin, because of course he would, always.
‘I-I’m serious, you know-’ he sighed, trying so hard to sound annoyed, but he wasn't, his concern evident in his shaky words, ‘I care about you’ he managed, avoiding eye contact with you under the pretence of focusing on your present injury.
But of course, like always, you didn't take him very seriously, and just leaned in a little, eyes twinkling.  ‘I care about you too, Harvey’ which had his head snapping up, wide eyes meeting your amused ones, unable to mask his flustered expression - what was he going to do with you?
Harvey's breath caught in his throat. Your words had always elicited such a potent reaction, but this time, it felt different. The weight of his own unspoken feelings pressed down on him.
Your visits had become a sweet torment for Harvey. How sweet you looked, scratched up arm extended offering him a gift - always his favourites, which you somehow had memorised to a tee, ignoring the pain you felt just to see him flustered as he accepted them.
Harvey's constant worry over your well-being extended to himself. The mere thought of seeing you sent his temperature soaring and his pulse racing. The symptoms he experienced—sweaty palms, flushed cheeks, and a pounding heart—often led him to question his own health.
'Oh dear, I must be coming down with something,' he would mutter to himself, his stethoscope barely grazing his chest in a futile attempt to make sense of his frazzled state.
What were you doing to him?
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟕   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   AUGUST 1991
❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱���.
Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.
❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.
My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.
Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.
I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.
Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.
I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.
I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.
Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]
Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.
You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]
I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.
Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?
Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.
You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.
But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.
If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.
It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.
When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.
You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.
Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]
So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.
I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.
The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.
What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.
Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.
How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?
No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.
Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.
Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?
Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?
I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.
But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.
There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—
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The Beast Wants to Tempt the Little Rabbit (Matias vs Clavis)
Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.
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Part 2
Clavis: "This is rather unsatisfactory."
(!?)
Matias: "Is it? This is the first time I've been welcomed this warmly."
Clavis: "Haha, you should aim higher. After all, you should be welcomed by all the citizens."
Clavis: "But unfortunately, I've noticed some of them not paying attention. Therefore..."
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Emma: "It's almost lunchtime!"
I grabbed Clavis' hand as he was about to put it inside his coat.
(I'm pretty sure he's going to come up with some kind of outrageous trap.)
Emma: "Prince Matias, are you hungry?"
Matias: "Now that you mention it, I do feel a bit hungry."
Emma: "In that case, let's have lunch!"
Emma: "Prince Clavis, your guest has a request. As your tour guide, I suggest we eat."
Clavis: "Hmm, you really know how to handle me."
(That's because I've made every mistake imaginable back when I was Belle.)
Clavis grasped my hand lightly with a pleased expression, his golden eyes gleaming seductively.
Clavis: "I've already made arrangements for lunch. Let's head there."
Emma: "Thank you, but what's with this hand?"
Clavis: "I'm just responding to your passion. You want to hold my hand, right?"
Emma: "I never said anything like that!"
Clavis: "Come on, don't be shy. Let's hold hands."
Emma: "I don't want to. Hey, your grip is too strong!"
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Matias: "Are you two...?"
Emma: "No, absolutely not!"
Clavis: "Matias, stop asking such a bold question. You're making Emma embarrassed."
(This guy is trying to get back at me.)
Clavis gently held my hand and started walking, leaving me feeling embarrassed under the sympathetic gazes of the people around us.
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(I tried to regain my composure and think about lunch, and yet...)
Clavis: "Now then, I will treat you to my homemade cooking."
Emma: "Why? Just why?"
I almost collapsed to my knees.
The place Clavis chose was one of the most famous restaurants in Rhodolite.
I thought that for entertaining a distinguished guest like Matias, he would have prepared dishes made by top-notch chefs, but for some reason, he declared that we were going to the kitchen.
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Matias: "Miss Emma, you look pale. Are you alright?"
Emma: "Yes, I apologize for causing concern."
Emma: "I just remembered a lot of intense memories from the past."
(I've had Clavis' homemade cooking a few times before that's why I can say this with confidence: his homemade dishes are too unconventional to be served to a distinguished guest.)
(If by any chance someone got food poisoning and it turned into an international incident, then...)
For the royals, poison was the most important thing to take into consideration when it came to food.
(If I were to give up now, there would be no one to protect Matias.)
Clavis: "You should rest. When you're able to eat..."
Emma: "Prince Clavis, there's a dish that I really want Prince Matias to try."
Emma: "It's a classic Rhodolite home-cooked dish, but I thought there might not be another chance like this, so please, let me cook this time!"
When I said this in one breath, the two men widened their eyes, perhaps taken aback by the momentum of my words.
(My cooking isn't something that should be served to state guests, either, but I think it's better than risking an international incident with Clavis' unconventional cooking. Or at least, I want to believe so.)
Matias: "Home-cooked dish..."
(Hmm?)
Matias: "Clavis, I'm also interested in her cooking."
Again, I thought I heard him mutter something, but Matias' serious expression didn't change.
(I can't believe he's so interested.) 
Clavis: "I see. Come to think of it, you've always had a fascination with home cooking."
Clavis: "Very well. Emma, I appoint you as our tour guide and personal chef."
Emma: "Thank you! I'm honored!"
(Thank goodness, I managed to avert the worst-case scenario.)
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Clavis: "I thought something like this might happen, so I actually had an apron prepared for you."
Clavis pulled out a white apron from the cupboard.
When he unfolded it, I noticed it had a bunch of frills.
Matias: "A frilly white apron, huh?"
(What's with the occasional sigh-like voice I've been hearing?)
Even when I glanced at Matias, his expression remained unchanged.
(Well, whatever. I have a feeling I shouldn't pry.)
Gathering my courage, I put on the apron I received.
I pushed aside the suspicious ingredients on the counter and picked up only the safe ones.
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Matias & Clavis: ".........."
Matias & Clavis: ".........."
Emma: "Since this will take some time, would you two like to chat elsewhere?"
Matias: "No, if there's something I can help with, I'd like to assist. I'll stay here."
Clavis: "It'll be lonely here by yourself, so we'll stay and keep you company."
(It's awkward and nerve-wracking!)
Still, I couldn't exactly chase them out, so I worked while receiving their intense gaze.
Clavis: "By the way, was your queen also good at cooking?"
Matias: "Yeah, it all begins with watching my queen in the kitchen every morning."
Matias: "Cooking together, tasting each other's dishes to understand the flavors, and laughing together after waking up."
(So Matias is already married. He looks so in love, it makes me smile.)
Matias: "But you know, even if she's bad at cooking, it's still fine."
Matias: "It makes it more worthwhile to cook together, and it'd be nice for me to cook for her and serve her as well."
Clavis: "Isn't there a royal chef at Acroite?"
Matias: "Of course there is, but the idea of homemade cooking is just romantic."
Clavis: "Haha, you're really saying that?"
Clavis: "I'm relieved to see that you still have the same perverted qualities you had as a student, even more so than me and Jin."
Matias: “I'm not a pervert. I'm just a regular guy who is devoted to his ideals."
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(What's that supposed to mean?)
Their conversation was so outlandish that I couldn't help but stop.
Emma: "Prince Matias, you're married, right?"
Matias: "No, not yet."
Emma: "But a queen?"
Matias: "I'm talking about my future queen."
Emma: "Ah..."
(I see.)
(I've always wondered why such a kind-hearted person would be friends with Clavis, but maybe it's because they both walk their own paths and understand each other.)
Realizing this, I resumed cooking as if nothing had happened.
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Matias: "Miss Emma, you're an undeniable genius."
Clavis: "Right? She really is a genius."
(Though it's not much of a dish, being praised like this makes me feel a little embarrassed.)
The main course was a simple beef and vegetable stew cooked in cream, accompanied by mashed potatoes with butter. 
I also prepared a soup and salad consisting of tomatoes, and edible roses.
For dessert, I made simple madeleines.
It might seem lacking compared to the dishes the princes usually eat, but both Matias and Clavis were eating so happily that it made me feel happy.
Matias: "Rhodolite is a wonderful country. To be able to enjoy such gourmet food as home cooking is amazing."
Clavis: "Right? We should praise Emma even more."
Emma: "You've already praised me more than enough!"
Emma: "Anyway, Prince Matias, why did you come to Rhodolite?"
Feeling embarrassed, I quickly changed the subject, and Matias placed his cutlery on the table.
Matias: "I was invited as a legal advisor."
Emma: "Legal advisor?"
Matias: "Acroite is known as the country of snow and law, and I'm called the guardian of law."
Matias: "I'm well-versed in the laws of not only my own country but also those of the major nations, including Rhodolite."
(That's amazing.)
Matias: "I've heard that several new laws are being considered in Rhodolite this time."
Matias: "However, these new laws have few precedents. Setting them up requires the establishment of various systems."
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Matias: "That's why they invited me. They seek the expertise of a legal specialist."
Clavis: "Originally, Jin and I were already good friends with Matias, so when I sent him a letter, he responded warmly."
(Ah, so that's why Clavis is personally putting so much effort into welcoming him.)
This was not a story that is irrelevant to me, either.
The law is a set of rules that everyone living in Rhodolite must follow.
Emma: "If you've come for the sake of Rhodolite, then we must put even more effort into welcoming you."
(We have to do our best this afternoon.)
Matias: "No, quite the opposite."
Emma: "The opposite?"
Matias: "I should be thanking you."
Matias: "This falls under the Asbrink family's 23rd precept, which states that one must always repay kindness received."
Matias: "So, could I have some of your time this afternoon? I want to repay your cooking."
Emma: "Please don't worry about it. Your sentiment alone makes me happy."
Clavis: "The Lelouch family also has a similar motto."
Emma: "Yours is just nonsense."
Clavis: "Haha! What are you saying? It's not nonsense. I just decided on it now."
(See? Nonsense.)
Clavis: "So, I also want to repay you for your cooking."
Emma: "Your gratitude is more than enough!"
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Matias: "Clavis, I brought it up first."
Clavis: "Unfortunately, Rhodolite doesn't have a 'first come, first served' law."
Clavis: "We can't let a guest like you repay your gratitude."
Clavis: "So, let me express my gratitude to Emma on your behalf."
Matias: "Fair enough. But then it loses its meaning. Shouldn't you respect the will of your guest?"
Clavis: "Hmm."
Clavis: "Emma, what do you think?"
Emma: "What do I think?"
Clavis: "Between me and Matias, whose gratitude would you like to accept?"
(Huh? Is this what this is about!?)
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Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Premium ╎ Epilogue
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