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pyro-chaos · 10 months

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Miguel O’hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel meets you for the first time. Then, he gets to know you, but the upcoming mission will show him a new side of you.

Word count: 3,253

The anomaly didn’t seem to have intelligent thought.

It moved impulsively, like it didn’t have a plan. To Miguel, the anomaly’s behavior suggested the creature must’ve been confused, scared and angry, like a fly stuck behind a window screen.

Unfortunately, the billionaires that engineered the frog-turtle anomaly decided they absolutely needed the creature to be the size of an SUV, with enough strength behind its scales to flip cars and shatter concrete. The city’s infrastructure couldn’t afford the frog creature’s tantrum. Not only that, but it smelled rancid.

“Any time now,” Jess’s voice cut through the soft wind, breaking Miguel from his…plotting.

Rather than answer Jess, Miguel shot his webs into the top of a building parallel to the frog creature. He used the anchor to swing himself onto a building with a better vantage point.

Jess scoffed.

Miguel liked to keep in the shadows when he fought. Lucky for him, the creature started its rampage before the sun rose. Miguel just needed an opening.

Before Miguel could continue plotting, ropes of web stuck onto the building he’d settled on. You nearly made him jump.

Before the mission, Miguel thoroughly reviewed this Earth’s Spiderwoman. He’d originally assigned the relocation of the frog-turtle anomaly to Jess, but after seeing your age, history, and effect on this universe, Miguel decided it’d be best to attend this mission personally, because he intended on recruiting you.

You only slightly annoyed him by arriving late.

Miguel’s eyebrow quirked up. You seemed…scattered. On one end, you kept trying to preserve public and private property. On the other end, you had to pursue the creature to stop it from destroying things. There were also pedestrians.

Most people understood that running away from the creature would keep them alive, but a few oddballs froze in place while the anomaly flipped cars and shattered glass. You prioritized the oddballs. You’d shoot webs into their midsections before yanking them behind the brigade the police had conjured up behind congested intersections.

You tried to assign cleaning the creature’s mess as your second priority. With every car the creature flipped, you scrambled behind to web it back onto the asphalt.

Miguel could find it in himself to at least acknowledge your multitasking.

“We should help her,” Jess interrupted his thoughts. Again.

“Not yet”

You shot a web onto the creature's back. You used the web to propel yourself onto its shoulders.

“Why?” Jess asked

Miguel tried not to growl at her, “Wanna have a conversation or wanna complete this mission before dinner?”

He could practically hear her eye-roll.

From the rooftops, Miguel and Jess watched you wrangle the creature like a bull-rider. Except you weren’t good at bull-riding.

After a good backward body slam into the side of a brick building, the creature knocked you off of its back, but you’d kept hold of the webbing that allowed you to wrangle the creature in the first place.

The newly free frog monster ran up a building, dragging you along with it.

Good, the farther away from the public, the better.

By the time the anomaly reached the roof, you’d used your opposite hand to anchor a second web rope on the sidewalk. With one hand, you gripped the web attached to the creature. With the other, you held the web that kept you tethered to the concrete.

The frog monster’s ascent caused the sidewalk web to pull taut. You used the tension to find your footing on the side of the building. Then, you yanked the frog-monsters web hard enough to disrupt its balance.

Miguel hummed in... not approval, but not distaste.

You abandoned the side-walk web but replaced it with a web anchored on a skyscraper's antenna. You used the skyscraper web to slingshot yourself above the anomaly.

From there, you dropped the skyscraper web in favor of swinging circles around the frog-monster. Miguel would compare the sight to an electron circling its nucleus. Except rather than gravity attracting you to the creature, it was your web.

Miguel’s eye twitched. The police sirens had gotten uncomfortably close. Guess your arrival prompted a chase.

“I’ll take the anomaly; keep the police occupied?” Miguel asked Jess. However, his tone implied that he wasn’t asking.

The Spiderwoman nodded before zooming towards the sirens.

That left Miguel with you.

Your circles around the frog-monster caused a cocoon-like structure to build around its waist and one of its arms. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like it would last. The creature had claws.

Miguel shot into action before the creature could begin scratching at your cocoon.

The Spiderman entered the fight from above. Without acknowledging you, Miguel smashed the creature into the roof. Hoping to stun it. He succeeded

“Holy shit, who- ” The creature’s pained shrieks cut you off - are you!?”

Miguel winced; he needed to invest in some sort of earplugs or something. He’d run into louder situations at some point.

For now, Miguel ignored you, but you didn’t seem to like that.

“Hey! Uh, sir! I appreciate the help, but with all due respect, you shouldn’t be here!”

You’re not wrong, Miguel thought, but he didn’t answer. He’d hoped within the time it took him to bite the frog creature, you’d recognize his suit.

Miguel let his arachnid instincts take control of his movements. He could feel the venom slide onto his fangs as he unequipped his helm.

The creature writhed, knocking Miguel off balance. You responded by shooting a web on the creature's snout and pulling it towards you.

Between your less-than-weak tug and Miguel’s hold on its free arm, the anomaly’s neck pulled taut. The Spider saw the perfect opening and reacted. The creature went still, and Miguel hoped that the putrid-tasting liquid included only blood.

Ew Ew Ew, the half-spider jumped off of the creature's back while spitting on the roof of the building. The anomaly tasted worse than it smelled. Miguel licked his lips and spit again - Ew - then a third time - Ew -and a fourth. By the fifth spit, you made your presence known, “Why does your…outfit have a Spider on it?”

Oh yeah. You

“I’m Spiderman,” Miguel replied, spitting a sixth time, “Lyla, scan the area, please, and do it fast.”

Lyla flashed to life, “On it boss.”

Your head reared back like you’d been hit while your eyes followed his digital assistant. However, your body language went from relaxed to apprehensive almost immediately.

“What? Uh, sorry, I mean - yeah, What?”

Miguel stopped his spitting and turned his full attention to you, “I’d like to offer you a position within our organization.”

Miguel hired you on the spot for two main reasons. One, you were an adult. The sheer amount of teenagers that made up the spider-people population surprised and slightly annoyed Miguel. With the kind of delicate work he needed to complete, Miguel would much rather hire adults.

Two, he desperately needed employees. Preferably with field work experience. However, between the importance of upkeeping the entire universe, and the newness of Spider-society, Miguel couldn’t afford to be picky with his employees yet.

The half-spider could only think of one reason why he shouldn’t have hired you; he couldn’t accurately predict how you’d react when he informed you of the importance of allowing the bad cannon events to happen.

Sometimes spider-people didn’t react well to hearing about the necessity of allowing some to die to save the rest. That fact alone made up most of Miguel’s reasoning for reviewing the history of a spider-person before recruiting them. Most of his recruits had already overcome the worst of their cannon. So, they understood why allowing the cannon events to occur meant so much to the fabric of the multiverse. But if they hadn’t had the worst of their trauma? If they felt they had the time to prevent their loved ones from dying? Miguel would place money on the fact that some would try to disrupt their cannon.

Whatever, he’d do what he needed to do to keep the universe safe.

Throughout the tour, you wouldn’t stop talking. Miguel didn’t mind because Jess answered most of your questions, but being introduced to the arachnohumanoidpolymultiverse quieted you down. Your quips didn’t have the same life as they did before, and you asked less frequent questions.

Miguel knew you’d already experienced most of your traumatic cannon events. But seeing your gaze linger on the upside-down kiss another Spiderman shared with a woman reminded him of how much spider-people had to sacrifice for heroism. Miguel saw the same flashes of emotion within every recruit. The sadness in their posture always reminded him of how much he truly wished he could find another way.

“Why can’t we stop it?” You asked no one in particular. Jess put a hand on your shoulder.

Miguel softened his tone, “If we do, the entire version of that universe falls apart,” you clenched your fists. Miguel continued, “Stopping one death will result in billions more.”

“But that can’t be on us,” you argued, but you sounded tired like you’d made this argument with yourself thousands of times before, “we have to…save people; we can’t just let people die because we think it’ll save everybody else-”

“-We don’t think, we know.” Miguel spoke. His tone almost pleading

Your eyes found Miguel’s. The pain he saw in your irises made him uncomfortable. He hoped you couldn’t see a similar pain in him.

“I’ve tried,” Miguel uttered, “I’ve tried to change the - the cannon. But breaking it results in entire universes falling apart.”

Your breath hitched, and your eyes moved to the polished floor.

“You can’t save everyone,” Miguel finished softly.

At Miguel’s words, the tension left your shoulders and your fists unclenched, but your gaze remained on the floor, “So, is there like an orientation or a training day I’ll need to attend?”

To be totally honest, Miguel expected to hate you.

When he first got to know you, you rubbed him the wrong way. He hated how much you talked, how you always had something to say.

But just like the day he met you - when you almost made him jump as you entered the fight - you surprised him.

“Mornin’ Miguel,” You greeted unenthusiastically.

He hmphed in response. You’d webbed up to his desk rather than wait for him to get down to you.

“So I sent you last week's mission debriefs last night-“

“-They weren’t due until midnight on Friday-“

“- but I had some trouble understanding the mission Lyla assigned to me this morning, which I thought was weird because I figured they’d have the same overarching theme as the missions I’ve had since last week?”

That got his attention, “I personally assigned you that mission, but don’t worry, we’ll go over it in our next meeting. Anyways, I assume you saw my last email? Regarding overtime pay?”

You nodded; Miguel wanted to roll his eyes, “Well, your time cards don’t reflect that.”

“I fell asleep on my desk on one of the dates you used as an example, and I figured logging that time without knowing how late I actually worked would’ve been …unethical.”

This time Miguel actually rolled his eyes, “but you still worked overtime.”

You shrugged, “Honestly, there’s no way to tell.”

Cameras. He wanted to tell you, but that probably would’ve sounded creepy, “I could ask Lyla.”

“My pay doesn’t really matter as long as I’m provided proper housing and amenities.”

Miguel cringed. He’d figured that out by now, but he didn’t know how else to repay you. He didn’t know what else was appropriate.

When Jess needed positive reinforcement, he let her have extra time off or a bonus.

Peter usually needed a “good work” with a vacation and longer deadlines for assigned tasks.

It made Spiderman from Earth-13122 happy when Miguel assigned him more challenging missions, and he especially liked the large Checks and added trust Miguel gave him as a result.

Miguel… hadn’t figured you out yet.

Should he tell you that you’ve done well? How would he say it? Did you want to hear that from him?

Whatever, Miguel just knew he needed to keep you happy. As one of his best, Miguel needed to make sure no emotions could inhibit his work.

“Would you like…better housing?” Miguel asked. Albeit awkwardly.

You tilted your head, “is there something wrong with my current housing?”

Miguel huffed, he liked you, but he did hate you sometimes. Just a little bit, “Nevermind, just - just take the morning off.”

You stopped talking, but you didn’t leave.

Miguel tensed. Did he say something wrong?

“Uh, thanks? But it’s Wednesday morning? We have that meeting soon. Are you sure I should be…missing from that?”

Miguel smiled at your…admittedly mocking tone; it was all he could do to keep from cringing, “No, take the afternoon off instead.”

Great save, Miguel thought.

“Ok? ,Well thanks. Do you need anything before I get back to work?”

Ay dios mio Before I get back to work, Miguel thought, you never left work

“No, but thanks.”

You come to the meeting equipped with a notepad, a pen, and breakfast for Miguel, yourself and Jess. Breakfast burritos with eggs, bacon, potatoes, and just a dash of hot sauce-

See, it’s moments like these when Miguel just wants to smile at you, fangs and all, and nod in approval. He really hates how you make him feel that feeling.

Miguel’s happy with Jess, too; she brought coffee.

“Ok yeah, all this makes sense, but are we sure it’s a good idea?” You ask, sounding more serious than you have for the past twenty minutes.

Everyone present looks at you. No one you don’t know; Miguel, Jess and Lyla.

The meeting mostly pertains to Lyla and Jess because they’ll be the pair running Spider-society while you and Miguel do the fieldwork.

“All the logistics are covered,” Lyla chimes in, “and based on the risk calculation models, it’ll be a relatively low-risk mission. At least compared to what you’ve completed in the past. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby.”

“Yeah, the benefits technically outweigh the cons here,” Jess adds.

“It just feels like we’re sticking our noses in a universe where we don’t belong. Isn’t that bad? Can’t it make things worse for that universe?” Miguel already thought of that, but he likes how you take the multiverse into consideration before missions.

“It’s mostly recon,” Miguel reassures, “Even if we see direct combat, our interference won’t screw up an entire dimension.”

You nod, but you don’t look entirely convinced, “What if we find something we don’t like?”

Jess addresses your question, “That depends on how much we don’t like what we find.”

You nod again, but you lean away from the table, and your hands begin fidgeting with each other.

Miguel leans back in his chair. He trusts Jess, and he’s left Lyla in charge before, so he’s not worried about leaving Spider-society unattended. But he’s - well, not worried - more like aware of the unusualness of your reaction. Usually, you’re less…jittery.

“Anyone have any other questions?” Miguel asks. When no one pipes up, he concludes the meeting, but he just needs to address one more thing before you leave for the afternoon.

“(Y/N), meet me in my office for lunch; there’s more we’ll need to go over before we depart tomorrow afternoon.”

You nod, smiling at Miguel on your way out, “See you at lunch.”

You bring Miguel food again. When he smells the empanada, Miguel almost trips over himself, trying to toss the lunch he’d brought from home. He’s glad he can smell you from across the hallway. He would’ve killed himself if you saw him scramble.

You web up to his desk again; he tries not to scoff.

“So, what did you need to talk to me about?” you ask, placing not one but two empanadas on his desk.

You. Miguel thought, and your weird reaction about this mission, “I assume you saw the dress code? For uh…the mission?” Miguel asks while seating himself on his rolling desk chair. He rolls to a clean part of his desk before taking a bite of the empanada. It’s ground beef and vegetables. He wants to give you a promotion, but he’s already done that.

You sit on the visitor's chair across from Miguel and finish your bite of the burger before answering him, “Yeah -” You wipe your mouth, “- speaking of that, I was wondering if you’d be willing to give Jess the afternoon off?” you take a sip of his water, “I wanted to ask her to go dress shopping with me after work, but it’s her turn to cook tonight.”

Miguel wants to say no. The multiverse matters more than going dress shopping with Jess. But, for the next four days, Jess will have to endure double the normal amount of work. He needs to keep his employees happy. So, if it’ll make you both happy.

But Miguel wonders, “Can’t you go dress shopping alone?”

“Is that a no?”

Miguel scoffs, “If you ask her to go shopping, and she says yes, then she can have the afternoon off.”

You smile, “thank you.”

He hums, taking another bite of the empanada.

“Do you have your outfit for the mission?” you question, genuine curiosity in your tone.

The half-arachnid sighs. He doesn’t actually want to talk about the mission, even though he brought it up. He hates how the hardest part will be a gala. A gala tainted with superficiality. He hates how many horrible people he will have to shake hands with.

He would’ve loved to leave this mission to Jess and you, but no. Layla’s calculations predicted an easy mission because Miguel assigned you and him as the operators. Better to not mess with perfection,

“I already own a suit,” He answers.

“What about dress pants? and polished leather shoes and jewelry-”

“- I just said I own a suit; a suit includes pants - wait, Jewelry? Why do I need Jewelry?”

You look at him like he’s the dumb one, “We’re gonna be around billionaires.”

Miguel shrugs. In return, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head before returning to your food. The silence holds tension. Miguel thinks it’s because you can tell he’s not addressing what he wanted to address. Maybe he’s being paranoid.

He didn’t want to talk about the gala, he wanted to talk to you about why you seemed off in the meeting, but If he asked, would he be breaching some unspoken boundary that the two of you shared as co-workers?

He’s glad for the smell of empanadas and burgers; it keeps him from dwelling in his indecision.

“I can find another person for this mission. If you’re uncomfortable with…the risks of it,” Miguel offers. He doesn’t like the way the words taste on his lips. He doesn’t like how you swallowed because of them.

“It’s fine, “You begin, “It’s just…” Miguel stops chewing, “Well I don’t know,” You finish.

Miguel doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like how it sounded like you were going to tell him but decided against it.

He drops the subject. But you don’t, “I’m not uncomfortable with the mission. I can do it.”

You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Miguel wants to say, but you wouldn’t find comfort in that. After all, you’re Spiderwoman; you do things you don’t want to do all the time. Miguel can’t decide if he admires you or empathizes with you for that.

#miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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comradekatara · 10 months

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Hi, hope you're well.

How would you rate the gaang + fire ladies' ability to work in customer service?

(there are so many fics of sokka working in retail and mai working in flowershops and I just don't think they're built like that— sokka has no patience for dumb questions and mai would probably rather die)

wait that’s so funny they literally are not built to serve people like that they’d kill themselves. especially mai i cannot imagine her having any kind of working class job and i know she hates flowers thinks they’re disgusting!!! i could see sokka being a tutor (in my modern au that’s how he meets toph. bc she drives everyone else away but then he meets her and he’s like “why ?? she is so cool”) and even working at the jasmine dragon (iroh is a chill boss so that’s why) but he could NOT do retail he’d kill himself before working black friday (in my modern au they’re also in new jersey. bc that’s very funny to me). but anyway!!

aang: i think he’d hate having to answer to someone else like just doing something he was told to do that he does not want to do ever would make his skin crawl. but when it comes to interacting with people even the worst rudest customers he is very friendly. even as a twelve year old he’s extremely patient (except when you are keeping him apart from a loved one, which is understandable!)

katara: i actually think katara working at a local coffee shop or smth is very plausible. she would have a tier ranking of all the regular customers in her head (and maybe even on paper) and she would treat them accordingly, ranging from excessive flirting to passive aggressive eye twitch. she’s good at her job for a communist who also needs to be liked by everyone at all times or she’ll die!

sokka: when he thinks a customer is stupid or annoying he starts talking slower and using smaller words in such an infuriatingly condescending way, but with the plausible deniability of “he was just being helpful” so that he can never actually get in trouble for it. but they both know he was being an asshole!!!!

toph: she needs to tell it like it is every five minutes or she’ll literally die it’s like a source of air for her. but i do think customer service would be good for her. she would enjoy it more than being a c*p that’s for sure! (low blow, sorry.)

zuko: okay well we see him be a tea server and the reviews are mixed. i think the thing about zuko that you have to understand is that if he is in a good mood he is a delight to have around and if he is in a bad mood he is a monster and his vibes ruin every room he’s in. so his proficiency at customer service is also just entirely dependent on how he is feeling at any given moment. i think he’d be happy serving tea once he’s the firelord though because it’s nostalgic and a respite for him. not so much when he’s an angry teen in ba sing se and he wants to be anywhere else.

suki: she’d be good at it because she is good at everything but she would definitely employ sokka’s plausibly deniable tactics of condescension. she has a lot more patience for people than sokka does, but she’d still enjoy messing with people, maybe even just out of boredom.

ty lee: she pretends to be stupid on purpose with customers she doesn’t like and when they try to complain to her manager she’s like “i am the manager” and when they question how she’s still allowed to work despite being so incompetent everyone else vouches for her they’re like “she’s literally our best employee.”

mai: would kill herself before that ever happened.

azula: see above, but also i think it could be good for her.

#yourlocalamoeba #asks #the gaang and #modern au #partially #except for zuko it was just real #also don’t try to bring me mai flower shop from the accursed comics #that’s bullshit and we all know it

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onewmin · 11 months

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shreds | knj (18+)

Pairing: idol!Kim Namjoon x idol!fem!Reader

Summary: After almost eight years of dating, you boyfriend Namjoon asks you the question. However, you don’t really want to say ‘yes’.

Warnings: SMUT, minors DNI!!! A bit of handjob and fingering (m. and f. receiving), a bit of oral (m. and f. receiving), a lot of kissing, profanity, a bit of angst, some typos, reader has a thing for namjoon’s hair, pure confusion, an unhealthy relationship, reader is fed up and tired, a lot of cockblocking (both knj and readers hehe)

Author’s note: it is what it is, I don’t write happy stuff, as far as you can see lol hope you enjoy!! Please leave some feedback <3

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

P.S. The pictures are taken from Pinterest, so if you know their owners, please let me know!

Part 2 is here <3

“I’d rather be alone”.

Ouch. Harsh words spat at your not-so-ex-but-ex-but-we’re-still-together boyfriend when he is in his most vulnerable position — on one knee with a ring, ready to put it on your finger.

It’s not that you don’t love him, quite the opposite actually. It’s not that you don’t want to marry him: you’ve spent almost eight years waiting for the moment when he’ll finally be ready to go public with you. You should be the happiest person alive right now, shouldn’t you?

Well, no. You’re actually fucking pissed. You’re pissed at the choice of the place — your freaking apartment; you’re angry with him popping up the question when the two of you have just got together, again. You’re annoyed with his smiley face, his stupid dimples and sparkling eyes. What’s this asshole so happy about? Being rejected?

“It’s not like I’ll stop asking”, he replied, getting back on his feet. A small black velvety box is back in his pocket in an instant; he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed at his chest and that look in his eyes. A mixture of love and lust, something you craved so much usually. But not lately. Not today.

“Please”, you rubbed you temples tiredly, “be my guest. I’ll say ‘no’ every time”.

He huffed, gaze following you around the kitchen. You’re used to it, to say the least. He’d come to your place, hang out, stay over, sleep over, fucking live here. You’d be having grand dates inside your apartment, but never, never out. Oh, well, maybe a couple of times you did. In over than seven years of dating.

“Whatcha cookin’?”

You let out an exhausted sigh, dropping the knife on the counter. “Your head on a plate. Get out of my apartment, Namjoon”.

Rubbing your eyes, you didn’t see him approaching you from behind. He wraps his arms around your waist, his breath tickling your ear. You hate him so much.

“Please, stop”, you utter, hardly trying to brush his hands off.

It always goes down the same road: he’ll hug you tightly, ask you to wait a little bit more (giving very reasonable excuses every time, like the lack of desire to ruin his public image or other bullshit) and you’ll end up underneath him, clinging onto him, begging him not to leave you again, again and again. You’re not sure if you’re able to put a stop to it.

“Don’t push me away, baby”. His husky voice hinted at the notes of vulnerability, hinted at him genuinely begging you not to do it. You don’t know how much longer you can last.

Pursing your lips together, you give in one last time, letting yourself melt again. He seemed to be an endless ocean, and you were drowning each and every time, no matter how much time has passed. It was just so pathetic how comfortable you felt around him, allowing him to do basically anything to you. Eating half of your food, occupying your bed with his huge figure, fucking you relentlessly and breaking your heart.

Is Kim Namjoon really that special or are you just this pathetically attached to him?

He pulls you from the flow of thought you’ve been going through by peppering small kisses all over the exposed side of your neck. You should just tell him to leave one more time. You know too well where such kisses lead.

“Namjoon”, you breathe out. He reads you like an open book, knowing the different tones of your voice. He stops immediately, freezing in his place, waiting for your next move.

You turn around, eyeing him briefly. Another stupid black turtleneck he must’ve worn to target you specifically. He just knows how much you love him in turtlenecks. His eyes are on you, watching your every move with caution.

“I can’t keep, uh…” You thoughts trail off, as you watch him lick his lips subconsciously. Shit, pull yourself together. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m tired”.

He cups your cheeks, forcing you to look back at him, a soft smile on his face. Shit. He knows how to get to you. “Baby, give us one more chance. Just one”.

“It’s not gonna change anything”, you mutter under your breath, eyes still glued to his. “No matter what you say or do, Joon”.

He took in a deep breath, one hand of his moving from your cheek to your shoulder, and the other on the waist. Your mouth went dry instantly, and the head was empty, no thoughts, no objections. Happened every time he touched you.

“Even if”, Namjoon’s nose brushed your cheek, his breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine, “I do this?” His words were followed by him pressing a kiss to your neck, to the spot he’s explored thousand times. And every damn one, you were weak in your knees.

“Ye-Yeah”, you breathed out, your head tilted away almost automatically. He let out a chuckle into your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body.

Another neck kiss followed the previous, and then another one, and another; in mere seconds Namjoon turned your stoic decision to never let him touch you again into mewling sounds leaving your mouth. His hands were on your ass, grabbing, squeezing, making you cling to his shoulders, whenever he sucked the skin in that sensitive spot again.

And when he broke away, eyes dark with lust, the look you’re so used to but never getting tired of — you glanced at his lips before pouncing at them with all pent up anger and frustration. Damn, you hated him. He kept you like a shameful secret on the darkest and dustiest shelf of the closet, refusing to acknowledge you even when he was able to. You were ready to put everything — your reputation, career, public image — at stake, you were ready to be hated. You were willing to do everything you could to finally be with him publicly, too. But he wasn’t going to claim you as his, ever. At least, not openly.

And that was more than frustrating. Infuriating, shit, seven years of dating and he still was ashamed and scared? That little moan you’ve always melted into left his mouth, when you bit his lower lip; so much of pure suppressed wrath landing right on him.

Breaths huffing into mouths, anger mixed up with passion, your hands pulling his hair, and him… Grunting, breaking the kiss to look at your red lips to drown in them again, Namjoon shoved you against the nearest wall. His hand hit it first, making your head press into it so that it didn’t hit the wall. You hated him for that too.

You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth when his bulge brushed over your closeted core. A spineless asshole, you thought, while your hands grabbed his ass to pull him even closer, feeding me with empty promises for so many years just to propose all of a sudden? What did he expect? For me to say yes?

“I-I”, you whispered, when he was kissing your neck again, “I will never marry you, Namjoon”.

A sudden squeak left your lips as you felt his fingers dig into your hips with force. Clenching his jaw, Namjoon ferociously took you by the wrists, lifting your hands, pining them against the wall above your head. You gasped, still surprised by his sudden change of demeanor. He was enraged. Good. Let him have the taste of his own medicine.

“I’ll be asking you every day”, he purred in your ear, “I’ll propose to you in million different ways”. He slightly bit your earlobe, receiving a whimper from you. “I’ll do anything for you to say ‘yes’”.

“Yeah?” Your eyebrow raised in question. Brushing your lips over his, but denying a kiss, you continued. “Will you go public about our engagement or I will turn into your secret wife?”

An exhausted sign was his response. You took in the sight of a complete loss written across his face — shit, you knew exactly how this would go.

“Whatever”, you uttered, hands tugging his hair, pulling him in another breathless kiss. He indulged in it, his plushy lips parting yours to let his tongue dominate the kiss. You let him. You let him do whatever he wants tonight. You’re not going to ruin your last time together. Though, it’s not like he knows that.

You were unaware of being lifted and carried into the bedroom. Namjoon has this magical power to transcend the boundaries of reality, creating this bubble whenever the two of you are alone so that you are in your personal, secluded little world. And when you’re there, you always lose the sense of reality.

That’s why you were able to last this long. Whenever you spoke to your friends — some of them idols too, some of them not — they always said it would’ve been a nightmare to live such a life. Hidden behind several closed door, your relationship was sealed as something forbidden, harmful even. That was true, but at the beginning of your careers only, you thought. The more both of you progressed, the less you cared about what people had to say. And for some time, while living in this beautiful delusion, you though Namjoon was on the same page as well. Oh boy, were you wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked breathlessly, obviously noticing your thoughts were drifting away from his head buried between your thighs. You wish you could focus on the pleasure he was giving you, but… Everything was too much. Him proposing out of nowhere, not agreeing on revealing your relationship — again — and your sudden decision to end this relationship for the good.

“You”, you whimpered, “you just feel so good”.

That wasn’t a complete lie: he did, in fact, get your head spiraling, you soul leaving your body each time he sucked on your clit. However, your mind couldn’t but come back to the anxious, shaking thoughts.

“Liar”, he breathed out, capturing your lips in another tentative kiss.

His kisses are hungry, and you catch him muttering in-between them how you interrupted him getting the dessert. Ah yeah, you didn’t come when he ate you out, it’s a direct insult. You’re giving in, swallowing his mumbles, replacing them with your own moans instead.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, your savoured every moment when his lips touched your skin. Pressing kisses to your shoulder blades, lingering touches on your chest, two fingers curled inside your pussy. He was too much, and he knew it; you were arching your back, digging nails in the sheets, whining, begging him to stop the torture.

“Joon, pl-“, you stuttered once again, when his thumb started drawing painfully slow circles on your clit.

“What is that, baby? I didn’t quite hear you”. Namjoon murmured.

“Please”, you breathed, hands gripping his shoulders, “please, please, fuck me, please”.

Under the blurred vision you still managed to see him smirking, while pulling his pants down.

“Your wish is my command”.

Your watched him reach for the nightstand, quickly taking the condom from the drawer. “D’you want to do it?”

You nodded, sitting up on the bed, head spinning from the sudden movement. Either iron deficiency or the foreplay, you thought, taking the condom into your hands. You looked at his cock, tip red and leaking with pre-cum, fucking waiting for you.

You wish you could put on a show for Joon, one last time. You wish you could get down, and put the condom on with your teeth. You wish you could, but you can’t.

Although there’s one thing you can do. He’s not gonna like it, you think, you won’t like it too. You desperately need him inside, to cling into him, to hear him whisper ‘I love you’s’ one last time. However, you can’t bring yourself to it.

The more you stay, the longer this goes on. The more you let him in, bringing your defense to the ground, turning your self-esteem in literal ruins — the less the arguments to leave him sound reasonable. He’s been your boyfriend for almost eight years, though, on the other hand, you weren’t partners at all.

Sure, you’ve met each other’s families. Of course they all predicted you two would get married and start a family, eventually. And at one point, you had to convince yourself that breaking up with Namjoon didn’t mean your parents breaking their friendship, so it shouldn’t affect them — but still, your families’ bonding was one of the things holding you back.

For some reason though, there’s nothing stopping you now.

The condom is still in its wrapper, so you put it down on the bed, Namjoon’s eyes following your every move. He raises his brows, not knowing where this is going. Your fingers linger over his tip, just teasing. Joon hisses at the slightest sensation, which almost brings you to tears: who else is gonna love you this much that the smallest touch of yours throws them over the edge?

Fuck him, the thought sprinted through your head, he only loves me behind closed doors.

Your lips sealed in a sloppy kiss. One of the hands, which wasn’t stroking his dick slowly, was entangled in his hair, again. You just loved the feeling of his soft locks in between your fingers.

Namjoon squeezed your waist, holding onto you for dear life, just not to lose his composure. As you broke the kiss, you lips left open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, moving to suck in the skin in that sensitive spot of his. You’re willing to mark him as yours in places where he’s never let you do that before.

“Baby..” He responded to your actions immediately, but didn’t lift a finger to stop you.

“Enjoy this while you can”, you whispered in his ear, leaving a trail of kisses alongside his neck.

You messily kissed his lips again, before breaking away. Looking in his eyes, you spit on your palm to bring it back to his cock again, to stroke him less slowly this time.

Namjoon rolled his eyes at the view, his head tilting away. He loved when you did this and looked into his eyes; to him, there’s just something… Something ethereal about you when you spit on his dick.

His hand reached to your bare pussy, to feel how wet you are, to bring the pleasure back to you — only to be slapped away.

“It’s about you, not me”, you gasp, images of him shoving his cock inside your pussy, pounding into you mercilessly fueling your burning desire for him.

Your thumb presses on his tip, drawing circles, thinking of how good it would feel to lick it with your tongue. Shit, you wish.

You give in to your wishes, finally. You just have to control yourself and not to yield to temptation fully.

You make him sit down on the edge of the bed, him obliging to every thing you tell him to do. Namjoon swears every time you get down on your knees in front of him, he’s ready to combust, to turn into ashes, just ‘cause of the way you look. Doe eyes piercing right though him whenever your head bobs up and down his length.

You both moan, when your mouth wraps around his tip. Your whimper is, however, more tempting to Joon, sending vibrations throughout his whole body.

With your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue starts its devilish dance. Leaving kitten licks with just the tip of your tongue, tasting the pre-cum with every move of yours, you feel his hand on the back of your head, massaging your scalp tenderly. You hate him for his softness even when you want to leave him.

Your hands stroke his dick, covering what your mouth can’t reach. The sounds you’re making are obscure, slurping, chocking, fucking French-kissing his dick. Namjoon is two steps away from being summoned to heaven.

“Shit, baby”, he hisses, his hands slowly guiding your head to make you go faster, “I’m g-, shit, gonna cum”.

Good. You bob your head up and down his length one more time, before letting his dick out of your mouth with a loud “pop”. As you stand up, naked in front of him, Namjoon’s gaze, clouded with lust, doesn’t leave the sight of your tits.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

His hoarse voice, gentle hands, soft locks. His darkened gaze, fingers on the small of your back, broad shoulders. Him. All about him is so beautiful, yet so painful. You cannot stay, you forbid yourself to stay.

If you stay with him one more time, you’re sure you’re not going to get your happy ending with him. He’ll never hold your hand in the park, he’ll never take you on a date when other people are there too. He’ll never leave the comfort of secrecy just because he doesn’t want to leave it. Namjoon doesn’t want to be with you in all meanings of it.

Yeah. You can’t stay.

His head is pressed to your solar plexus, your fingers in his hair again. The last time you’re going to be this close.

“I think we should break up”.

#kim namjoon #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon angst #bts rm imagine #bts imagines

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artoodeetootired · 9 months

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jere doesn’t deserve (all of) the hate he gets

alright, can i just say that although i didn’t read past the first book, i have read TONS of comments and justifications and explanations as to why people think Conrad is better than Jere. That is completely subjective, I get it.

But why are people invalidating Jere’s right to be angry? Literally??? Like, bro, I get you have favs but are u really telling me that the guy can’t even be upset at Belly for what she did to him?

Some people are literally saying how manipulate he was for bringing up his dying mother, and how Conrad was probably gonna break her heart. First, he found out way later than he should have, which gave him less time to process it. Yet, what did he do? Immediately help Beck through it. Second, was he wrong LMAO. He’s seen it happen over and over again with his own feelings for Belly, but never said anything because he knew Belly and Conrad were something of an unbreakable bond. Third, she literally kissed his brother 3 days after an already established relation/situationship with Belly. You’re telling me he was in the wrong here while Conrad was in the grey area that allowed him some sort of immunity for his actions??

Now, let’s move on to whether or not Jere loved Belly before or after she turned prettier. I’m sorry, but Conrad also said that he always saw her as a little kid/sister or some shit as well. Jere said that she was always his best friend. They BOTH found new feelings for her, because that’s literally just how teenagers work. If you want childhood friends to lovers, then you have to expect a switch from FRIENDSHIP to LOVE at some point- and neither of them experienced it BECAUSE she was prettier, but because she was more than just a little kid then.

“No, he was forced to stay with her in that flashback”. YEAH, then he stayed a week more until HE got sick??? I’m not even gonna explicitly detail all the times he’s also backed her up, supported her, been her best friend. The fact that he let her love Conrad was enough proof that he did love her enough to let her go.

Please don’t bring up the books again, because to use reasons from the story’s “future” when the present is still being played out is just bs. We don’t even know what could happen by the end of it all, what with Jenny Han changing loads of details. Was Steven and Shayla/Taylor in the books? No. Was Skye, an extremely annoying hindrance, in the books? No. Was Conrad and Belly doing it for her first time by the fireplace in the books? No.

And I can’t even begin to describe how frustrating it is to see people literally ignore the scene where Conrad visits the house. Like how tf are you just going to let that slide IM CACKLING. Jere, at the table stressing over bills during his senior year. Conrad, appearing out of nowhere to pay a very friendly visit. And, pray tell, what does Conrad do? He performs a confession of his love to his younger brother who he knows had/s feelings for Belly, when Jere was probably thinking he’d rather accept help with the insurance instead. Then off Conrad goes to see his mother without another word, after getting what he wanted.

And also, can I just say how BAD Conrad’s communication skills are? Like fr, my dude had to carry news of Beck’s cancer all on his own. But to me, you don’t lash out at other people and lead two girls on at once because of something you can’t even explain your behaviour for. Believe it or not, the way he acted like an asshole was a product of his inability to open up. And I get it, I totally do ‘cause I and ppl in general handle shit like that sometimes. But the miscommunication is what broke Belly, his brother, his friends, and Laurel multiple times in the first place. If you want to bring up Jere’s “manipulative” behaviour, then you’ll also have to address Conrad’s “misunderstood” behaviour, when it was really just him lashing out on everyone else.

Honestly, to me, Belly really was the problem. But I guess people find that a more provocative topic to accept. Idc who she ends up with, or who people think is better/best. I just went on this crazy rant because I truly think that it’s insane how people have managed to invalidate Jere’s feelings. This isn’t because I’m crazy about the show or the characters, but it’s because it does reflect on other people’s thought processes when they see the conflict of emotions between 3 people who should be listened to. Except that one of them isn’t being heard at all. Why? Because he cheated on her in the book no one knows is going to stay true within the show.

We all know that Jenny Han has made MAJOR plot changes and I am not gonna be dismissed just cause I didn’t read the books. I watched the series, and I am only commenting on what happens in the series. If people keep using this argument instead of the facts WITHIN the series, then maybe some rethinking needs to be done.

#jeremiah fisher #conrad fisher #tsitp cast #tsitp conrad #tsitp jeremiah #belly conklin #susannah fisher #steven conklin #taylor jewel #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #rant #wake tf up LMAO #jenny han

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kayrllylikesblitzwing · 2 years

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I wanted to post my oc strobe tonight but I realized that DESPITE being my second ever tf oc not only does she not have a full reference design sheet but she doesn’t even have any UNFINISHED SKETCHES of her BY HERSELF so here’s some shitposts and animatic things that have her I love strobe

ALSO BLITZWING IS IN THIS POST YAY trust me HES IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!! also I drew Blitzwing differently in the video because that animatic is OLD. AS. BALLS. I changed how I draw him a while ago after I saw this AMAZING design of him

Anyway here’s all you need to know about Stroeb I can’t give lore because my mutual rp friends follow me and they aren’t allowed to know yet :(

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Strobe is a joke character but she did make my friend cry for like 2 days when she died in rp so I guess she does have an impact or something LOLOL

STrobe is a super romantic high-energy FIEND who hates other women and wants to be One Of The Boys. Though she lacks common sense and a filter, she’s actually pretty intelligent when it comes to math, engineering, health science— all that jazz. Not very good in the English department though…

Strobe is known for getting in people’s business and holding grudges. If you wronged her once, even if it was megacycles ago, she still remembers it and is still plotting how to get back at you. And since she’s so nosy and curious and knows how to ask around and get good information, she knows exactly how to ruin your day… OR LIFE!!!! Maybe not that dramatic maybe not life but emotionally she’s pretty angry all the time lol

All in all basically a very unstable pick-me-girl who will have a vendetta against if you identify as a woman or instantly want to marry you if you’re a guy. She loves men btw she loves men a LOT…. Specifically BLITZWING… but it’s not mutual LOL

To elaborate on that random fact (and to explain why Blitzwing is in every SINGLE DRAWING) Strobe is compleeeeetely in love with Blitzwing and follows him around really wants him to like her but Blitzwing is too busy watching football and eating veiner schnitzel or something to notice idfk. Blitzwing really sees her as like a semi-annoying younger sister than a girlfriend (and plus I lowkey headcanon Blitzwing is just asexual + aromantic leaning in general THATS MY HOT TAKE he’d rather sing nursery rhymes and kill people than hold someone’s hand!!!) so would never date her she gets friendzoned constantly

(I also headcanon random is gender fluid I DONT KNOW WHERE ELSE TO PUT THIS headcanon But It’s here LOL ANYWAY)

ALSO I should probably end this with saying IN THE Little toddler phone thing with the stupid bugs and blitzwing the pink bug is NOT strobe’s child that is her clone. Very long story. But she has a clone. The clone’s name is chitter and she is a very sweet little baby who has gotten kidnapped at least 3 times so far in the rp she’s in Oops

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ive had someone ask before if chitter was blitzwing and strobe’s child and the answer is No! but the more I look a chitter especially when she’s colored in the more I realize she does look like it….

#maccadam #tf idw oc #tf oc #tf rp #transformers #transformers oc #transformers original character #transformers roleplay #insecticon #stupid ass fucking bug stupid bug stupid #strobe is my favorite oc guys #because she’s like an anti Mary Sue everything goes wrong for her #everyone HATES HER #she has NO FRIENDS #BLITZWING doesn’t LOVE HER #everything goes WRONG FOR HER #and she always DIES #SHE HAS NOT SURVIVED ONCE…#major L strobe

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 9 months

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May I please request sight, nose, mouth, heart and hands for Peter and Dagger? If you want to add another circus member of your choice, go ham, mon ami.

brb one sec, I gotta get emotional over these boys <3

SENSES HEADCANON PROMPT

SIGHT : How is your muse’s sleeping schedule? Do they have a regular sleeping pattern, or if not, do they even want to have one? Does your muse sleep easily, or prefer to be awake for as long as they possibly can?

Well, his sleep schedule… could be worse? Could be better, though. Like most of the first-stringers, he doesn’t go to sleep when the rest of the circus does. It’s after midnight by the time he finally lies down, every night; he never gets to sleep before then. Honestly, if it were up to him, he’d want to straighten that out, because he knows it isn’t really healthy by the way he feels exhausted when he wakes up. Once he’s able to lie down, he’s asleep pretty easily thanks to all the energy the day took out of him. He doesn’t really have the luxury of putting off sleeping.

NOSE : What does your muse smell like? Do they have a signature scent, something that others associate them with?

He sort of just… smells like the circus. There’s the aroma of dirt after a rain, and the smell of hay mixed in. It’s also entirely possible that there will be a faint iron-like scent that clings to him (especially his hands) thanks to the metalwork of his knives and his frequent handling of them. And, of course, ever-present is the fragrance of the mild, cheap soap that the circus as a whole uses to wash clothes and bedding. That one is maybe most prominent. None of it is very strong, and there’s really nothing too distinct anyone could pinpoint as ‘his’ smell.

HEART : Which one does your muse value the most within themselves respectively in others, emotions or rationality? Why?

Emotion, full stop, for both himself and others. He’s of the opinion that people were created to be emotional creatures, and that trying to hold that back too much is just… missing the point of existing as a human being. People were meant to laugh and cry and be angry and be in love. The problems come, he thinks, when people let themselves be controlled by emotion and let it lead them to bad choices. (He can’t judge too harshly. He’s guilty of it, too.) He knows balance needs to exist, but, he prefers to see hearts on one’s sleeve rather than hidden away.

HANDS : Is your muse good at controlling their emotions, do they repress them, or act before they have a time to think? Has your muse ever done something bad because they failed at controlling their emotions, and in that case how does your muse feel about it now?

It’s… complicated. He tries to not let himself run away with his feelings. Whether or not it works is a toss-up, and it’s very context-heavy as to which feelings he allows to carry him. Happiness? He doesn’t keep a tight leash on that one. If he’s happy, he lets himself smile and laugh and hug and kiss and whatever else he feels like doing when he’s happy. Everything else, his anger and sadness and envy and everything he thinks is ugly and could ruin his life or someone else’s, he tries to think before he makes a decision while he’s feeling one of those strongly. It also very much depends on why he’s feeling that emotion. If he’s angry because someone’s simply annoyed him, he takes a breath and does his best to not overreact. If he’s angry because someone’s hurting another person he cares about… he doesn’t even spare it a second thought, he just reacts. However, his jealousy in romantic pursuits has wrecked one or two relationships in the past, when he got a little too mad about someone else being with his partner. He feels a lot of regret about that, because his going too far hurt people he cared about, so… he tries very hard not to let history repeat itself.

His schedule is not the healthiest one. Because of the same things that apply to Dagger, Peter also rarely gets to lie down in bed before midnight. More often it’s thirty or forty-five minutes past, and there have been nights his head hits the pillow at one in the morning. He’s been known to grumble (to anyone who knows the reasons) that he wishes it’d be easier to get some damn sleep, but there aren’t many changes he can make at the moment. If it were his choice, he’d probably go to bed much earlier and rise just a little later. He’s one who struggles to fall asleep right away; it’s that horrible problem of too tired to sleep. While he doesn’t necessarily put it off, there have been nights he doesn’t sleep at all because it just won’t come when he closes his eyes.

NOSE : What does your muse smell like? Do they have a signature scent, something that others associate them with?

Well, one certainly wouldn’t expect Peter to smell the way he does. The performances he and his sister do are very physical, so that means he does work up a sweat and so there’s a bit of that. However, it’s usually overpowered by a gentle, fresh scent. That’s probably what he smells like more than anything. It’s a mixture he and Wendy both use for their routines — a combination of talc and chalk powder, that he applies liberally to his hands before practicing or performing. That’s an effort to keep his hands dry so they don’t slip off the trapeze bars, and to soothe the calluses he has from working with them all the time. That fragrance takes over pretty much anything else he might smell like, and that particular scent is one most will recognize as what he and his sister smell like.

HEART : Which one does your muse value the most within themselves respectively in others, emotions or rationality? Why?

For himself, he prefers when he can be rational and logical; perhaps because he knows he usually tends to the emotional side of things. He likes when he’s able to shut that off or freeze it for a moment and just think. As far as for other people, it’s a mixed bag. People acting like unfeeling machines without any kind of emotion is something he can’t stand… and yet, he knows that too much emotion is very much a double-edged sword. He doesn’t have any strong preference when it comes to others, except that he values a person who doesn’t tend toward extremes of rationality or emotion.

Despite trying to keep a lid on his emotions, it’s always been difficult for him to do. He tries very hard to control them, simply because he knows he’s prone to outbursts and he knows he could say or do things which hurt people. He’s not perfect, so his anger spills out a lot before he thinks too much about it. Typically, though, when he acts on it without thinking, it’s because he’s already had his buttons pushed three or four times. He’s already held things back. That final time he snaps, it’s rarely an out-of-nowhere snap — it’s the result of him losing his temper after having had it tested several times, even if those several times were small. In the past (and, hell, even nowadays), he’s gotten into some brutal fights because he failed to control his emotions. In at least one instance he had to be pulled off someone because he was hitting a bit too hard while lost in anger, and in another instance he got beaten half to death because he was so angry at the other person he wouldn’t give up and run. He hates that he’s the kind of person who gets involved in crap like that, so he makes genuine, if not always effective, efforts to stop his feelings from controlling him.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Dagger #Peter #headcanons #general #drama #angst #slice of life #BLAAAAH MY BOYS!! I love em #one hell of a queue

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serraic · 2 years

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A baby was the last thing the abbey in Etruria needed. Newborn, red from cold, swaddled in a blanket of blue — the man who brought her was a traveler, who said he found her on a nearby mountain range. He’d been caring for her until he could bring her here, but he could do so no longer. He’d been calling her Serra, after where he found her, he said.

So Serra she was dubbed, and so she grew up, in a poor little convent.

A parting gift was left with her — a gold coin necklace, fastened around her. The nuns let her keep it when they couldn’t get anyone to buy it off them, so poor their village was.

Serra was the sort of toddler that wanted help with everything she did — she wanted people to watch her, to see her do things, to cheer her on. The sisters never had any time for her, what with watching other kids and their duties, and she was often told brusquely, “You’re old enough to do this on your own, aren’t you?” These are her first memories — angry tears as she sits in the corner of a room, fists clenched, wanting desperately for someone to hold her or play with her.

The other kids, too, wanted for attention, and thus they were a rather unruly bunch, not good at listening to boundaries and not good at showing healthy affection for one another. Serra grew up being yelled at, stomped on, her hair pulled, her body thrown around. She decided early on she liked none of the other children, and they often thought she was annoying, in return.

As often as she could, Serra would explore the monastery. She met a great deal of people this way, and saw how certain people were treated better than others. She wanted it, whatever it was — strode up to a one such man once and asked him, quite squarely, why people were nice to him.

A sister came and dragged her away, and shrieked, “Are you kidding? How dare you talk to someone like him like that?”

“Why’s he so special?”

“Well, he’s a duke, Serra!”

Serra didn’t know what that meant. The next day, she asked the kindly old man who attended sessions what a duke was.

The man explained to her the hierarchy, and how people could be born into honor. She was fascinated, and wanted it.

“You know,” he said, “your name, Sara, means princess, actually.”

Her eyes lit up — could it really be? Could she be a forgotten princess?

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve not heard of any princesses going missing.”

She’d sulked then, but that night, had a vivid dream of overhearing the sisters discussing how Serra had been placed in the abbey for her own protection; her parents, after all, were counts, and there’d been a great dispute over status and succession of titles. Upon waking, she couldn’t quite tell if that had happened or was a dream, but she decided to believe in it. It made her special, too, like that duke she’d seen.

For the next few years, Serra was confident in the fact that her family would come to rescue her from the abbey. Every night she believed she’d wake to their smiling faces. She shot around the convent as much as was allowed ( if Mother Superior caught her, she’d be hit and sent back to the room ), and waited, patiently, desperately, to be discovered. Sometime during this, she saw a few young ladies with pigtails, and decided it must be the fashionable thing, so she started wearing her hair up similarly, too! Now she even looked beautiful, for when her family returned.

She was around 12 when the restlessness began to overcome her diligent spirit, and she wondered — what if they never came for her? What would her life be? Would she have to get married to some dirty townsboy and live the rest of her life here, in Etruria, never adventuring further or doing anything significant with her life? Or become a nun, here, like the rest of the sisters? Each option was horrible in different ways, and alluring in different ways. It wasn’t until she met her first cleric that Serra ever thought there may be something different.

The woman was beautiful, refined. She came to pray at church and Serra, ever curious and inquisitive, came to ask her a million questions about who she was. The woman told her she was a cleric, and healed a cut on the back of her arm. Serra was amazed by the power, and amazed that anyone ( according to her ) with high enough faith in Saint Elimine could wield these powers. It immediately became her goal — to harness her own abilities, and use them for good, like this cleric did.

Serra asked the nuns to teach her how to read the holy scriptures on her own. They’d taught the children about Saint Elimine, of course, and though Serra could make out a few words for herself, she had great difficulty actually reading through passages without any assistance. To this request, they obliged. And so began the training montage — Serra praying, and studying, and standing over the other kids in the room with her hands outstretched, trying to visualize what healing would look like, feel like, be like.

It wasn’t until another cleric visited that she had her first chance to test it out. She asked if she could use their staff, and after a significant amount of begging, they acquiesced. She used it to heal a small wound on one of the kids that lived in the abbey with her. The cleric was so amazed by her, they gave her their staff, proclaiming they had more and they didn’t need it.

After that, Serra took to the streets, healing people in the village. She made enough money to buy clothing of her own, and she modeled her clothing after the one person that’d always been there for her — Saint Elimine. Who was more beloved and respected than Saint Elimine? Who could turn her away, when she dressed so wonderfully?

The nuns found her a job in Ostia, and gleefully, Serra went. House Ostia was beautiful — she had her own room, alone — everything was perfect, better than she ever could’ve imagined. They even had beautiful jewelry that she saved up for and bought! There was nothing like this where she grew up! She hung her necklace from when she was young on her belt, and marveled at how beautiful and fashionable she was, here.

She had escaped her old home. By taking pieces of other people, she’d made a full, coherent-enough self. She was able to be something, rather than rot away in that convent, forever.

And that’s how Serra’s life started. Truly started, really. How she came to be, and how she escaped her childhood.

At least... she’d thought she’d escaped it. But was she really confident in this self she’d built? Was there not some piece of her that was still the child who got hit for singing or laughing, who watched other children die due to negligence, who blamed herself for the death of a boy meant to be sleeping next to her who froze to death when she hogged the blankets in her sleep?

Well... perhaps there’s still some things she has to go through. But that can wait another day, surely.

Can’t it?

#child abuse tw #[ : ). THERE WE GO....... ]#( headcanon. )#( out of heals. )#( drabble. )

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reeshyz · 2 years

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Ich hätte gerne eine Frau

Pairing: Till Lindemann / Richard Kruspe Warnings: cross-dressing, Dicke Titten - AU Word Count: 7.577 Summary: Everyone knows that Till wants to fall in love again. Richard is already in love with him, but there’s a small problem. Till only likes women. Paul has a 'brilliant' idea. Author's Note: Since a lot of people like this on AO3, I thought I could post it here. I hope you like it! <3 Link (if posted on AO3): https://archiveofourown.org/works/40752312

♪

“What got you in such a bad mood tonight?” Schneider asks, from where he sits on the large couch. Till is sitting next to him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere than here. Till shrugs and almost seems to pout.

“He’s still angry that he couldn’t find a girl yesterday at the party,” Paul answers easily for Till and he snickers. Till’s pout grows bigger and Richard has to hastily look away. That mouth should be forbidden, really.

“Really? Man I mean with the way you always drool on their chests, I’m not surprised,” Schneider answers and this time he’s laughing too. Even Olli on the couch next to them snorts into his beer, only Flake shakes his head at those big kids.

“Maybe next time try not to touch them without asking,” Flake says, voice flat.

“Not my fault. I can’t see them and I miss some nice breasts,” Till says and Richard sighs quietly, before he gets up from his seat next to Paul. He’d need another beer for this conversation.

Richard knows that everyone’s eyes are probably following him, besides Till’s. It’s not exactly a secret that Richard has been crushing on Till for years, but he’d never acted on it and why would he anyway?

The earth is round. Water is wet. Till loves women.

“You okay?” Paul whispers, when Richard comes back. Richard nods shortly, he doesn’t really want to talk about it while Till is still sitting in his living room.

“What about Richard, he’s also still single. Maybe you could all annoy him,” Till says then and he actually looks over. Richard stares into his gray and dull eyes. He misses the sparkle in those eyes sometimes. But Till is still the most perfect individual in his eyes.

Richard sighs again. It’s hopeless.

“I’m single because I wanna be single,” Richard stays stiffly and everyone around him starts to laugh. Richard is glad that at least Till can’t see how badly he’s blushing by now. He hates it to be in the spotlight like this.

“Sure tell yourself that,” Schneider feixes and Richard kicks him against his shin. Schneider swears at that and even manages to spill some beer on himself. Richard smiles all sweetly at him.

“Do I have to remind you that just yesterday I managed to get two numbers from two girls?” Richard asks and Schneider rolls his eyes. Olli’s smile is soft, while Flake’s smile turns a bit sad. He had seen how Richard had thrown the numbers away.

“But don’t you wanna be in love?” Till asks then and he sounds as if it’s hurting him that Richard is still alone. Richard almost shrugs his shoulders, but he knows Till can’t really see that, so he thinks about an answer that’s not too obvious.

Damn these old men and their need to talk about their feelings all the time.

“I do, but maybe… I’m waiting for someone special,” Richard answers and he can feel himself smile against his will. He knows that he found his special someone already, even though nothing would come out of it, he’s glad that Till is in his life.

That he’s allowed to call him his best friend.

“You were always a hopeless romantic,” Till laughs then and the other guys join in with laughter. Now it’s Richard’s turn to pout at those stupid idiots.

There had been a time where Richard had thought he’d found the perfect relationship, but something had always been wrong and soon enough he had been alone again.

Richard is a perfectionist, he’s a workaholic, he never does as he’s told. Yeah he’s probably a handful. He remembers his last girlfriend who had been jealous of his damn guitar, just because he couldn’t go anywhere without her.

And then there were those thoughts about his best friend. Richard doesn’t even remember when it had first started. It seems like he's been crushing on him for more than twenty years. Too late to do anything about it anyway.

“Hey Till, you know I’ve got a cousin that would be perfect for you,” Paul says then and Richard looks back down to his beer. It’s already getting late and he’s got work tomorrow, he actually hoped the guys would leave soon.

“Really? What does she look like?” Till asks and Flake rolls his eyes again. Sometimes Richard wonders if they’d get stuck like this.

“Blonde long hair, nice lips. Big eyes. Huge boobs,” Paul says and Richard frowns at him, when Paul is looking so weirdly at him. Till actually slaps his thigh at that and it reminds Richard of the old days, when they still had tried to become famous with their stupid band. Back then Till had always slapped his thigh and knees so badly.

He smiles at the memory.

“Sounds perfect to me. I wanna meet her,” Till says and Richard gets up to start with the dishes. He tries to tune out the conversation as best as he can. No need for him to be sad over another relationship that would Till start. It always went like this.

He needed to stop to pine after Till each time the man was single. He knows he’s just embarrassing himself at this point.

“Sure thing, I’ll see when she’s got time,” Paul answers and then Schneider yawns so loudly that they all start to laugh again. Maybe Richard should take their beers away.

“Okay time for bed, you want me to bring you home?” Schneider asks towards Till, who nods. It’s always easier for Schneider to take Till with him since they live right next to each other. Olli and Flake get up as well.

“Aren’t you coming, Paulchen?” Schneider asks, when Paul stays on his seat.

“Nah I wanna stay with my guitar husband for a little while longer,” Paul says and Richard can’t help but grin. It’s an old joke between them and everyone always groans at that. Paul is happily married, but he loves to rile the guys up with it every damn time.

“Alright, I’ll see you idiots next week,” Flake says and with another wave he’s already out of the door. Olli shakes his head, smiling, but he offers at least a short handshake before he follows Flake into the night.

“It was nice, I’ve missed you,” Till says when he slowly comes over and hugs Richard. They meet up weekly at Richard’s or Till’s place but last week Richard had been too sick to come. Richard smiles and he feels how his cheeks heat up.

“Me too,” Richard whispers back. Till even leans over and tries to kiss Richard’s cheek. He almost catches his mouth in a kiss, but Richard turns away, so he wouldn’t make a mistake. The kiss on the cheek is appreciated anyway.

“See you next Saturday,” Till says and then he briefly hugs Paul and even runs his fingers through Paul’s hair, while Paul whines at that. Richard shakes his head and then hugs Schneider.

It’s quiet when they are both gone and Richard wonders what exactly Paul wants from him now that everyone is gone. He lets Paul figure out how to start the conversation and continues with his dishes.

Luckily he’s got an open kitchen towards the living room. He always likes to cook for his friends and he’s glad he’s able to talk to them while cooking. It comes in favor in moments like this as well.

“So I have a great idea,” Paul says and he sits down at the bar in front of Richard’s kitchen.

“You know everytime you say something like this, somebody gets hurt. And it’s almost all the damn time that I’m the one who gets hurt. So no, thank you,” Richard says and he rinses another beer glass.

“Are you still mad that I burned your hair one time, like twenty years ago?” Paul whines and Richards snorts.

“It was twice and yes! My hair was fabolous back then and you ruined a wonderful night for me,” Richard snickers and Paul laughs as well.

“You’re an idiot,” Paul mutters then and Richard shrugs. That’s not exactly news.

They sit together in dead silence before Paul sighs loudly. Once. And then again.

“Okay fine! Tell me your brilliant idea then,” Richard says and throws his towel onto the bar next to him. Paul’s smile turns almost dangerous and Richard knows he has already made a mistake.

“Well as you heard I want Till to meet my cousin,” Paul says and Richard nods.

“Yeah, thanks again for that. I didn’t need to hear that Till would get fucked next week,” Richard says and Paul snickers. He’s not even ashamed, even though he knows about Richard’s crush.

Richard isn’t sure if he should be offended.

“I don’t have a cousin. At least not a female one,” Paul says and Richard isn’t sure if he understands.

“So?”

“So we’ll make you into my cousin! You can go on a date with Till and finally stop crying about your undying love for him. Win win!” Paul seems rather excited and Richard rubs over on ear, he isn’t sure he heard that right.

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid! You understood me,” Paul says and there’s that damn whine again.

“I’m pretty sure that you saw my dick before, Landers, there’s no way I’m going to pass as a female in Till’s eyes. You know that I support any woman but I don’t wanna be a woman,” Richard says and Paul nods.

“Yeah and I admit it’s a nice dick.”

“Not my point, but thanks,” Richard answers and Paul laughs loudly.

“Come on. You know that I can get you a nice wig from my hairdressing salon. And we can surely get you a nice dress or something. You could at least get a nice evening and a kiss or something,” Paul explains and Richard can feel himself agreeing already.

Even though it’s a stupid idea.

“He’d laugh at me,” Richard whispers.

“No he would never. Just try it, maybe it’ll get you over him or maybe you can make him finally fall in love with you,” Paul says and for some stupid reason Richard agrees.

Paul holds out his hand and Richard takes it.

He knows he’s fucked.

But what does it matter at this point?

♪

“This will never work out,” Richard says six days later, when Paul had already closed his hairdressing salon and looks for a suitable wig.

Sometimes Richard remembers all their dreams. They had wanted to become a famous band but somehow that didn’t really work out. Now he’s cooking in the restaurant of this small town while his friends all got normal jobs as well. He has to admit he likes this life as well.

“Shut up. I’m doing you a huge favor here,” Paul says and he walks over with a long blond wig. It does look very nice and also very expensive.

“I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you,” Richard says, but he stays in the damn seat, while Paul tries the wig out. It’s way too long and Paul shakes his head, walking back to the back of the shop.

“Hey, I mean at least he won’t really see you,” Schneider says to his right. Richard rolls his eyes at the damn joke, because that was just tasteless. Schneider holds up another makeup brush. .

“Why would I even need make-up?” Richard complains, but he knows that Paul and Schneider won’t make him look ugly. They both can do their jobs, otherwise they would be jobless by now.

“It’s not like you wear nail polish every day already, so shut up and look towards me,” Schneider says and Richard obeys. He can feel Flake and Olli staring at him, but thankfully they both stay quiet. Olli had already shown him the white and long dress that he’d bought out of his own designer shop.

Richard has to admit that the dress looks beautiful, but he’s not sure if he can actually pull it off. Flake the idiot even bought him heels out of his shoe shop down the street. Richard is scared to walk in them.

“I mean it’s your own fault for trusting an idea from Paul,” Flake speaks up now and Richard chuckles, when he hears Paul’s scandalized yelling from the back. There is a loud bang and then even more swearing.

“Flake, don’t be mean!” Paul yells back.

“I’m not being mean, I’m being honest.”

Richard focuses back on Schneider and closes his eyes. He’s not sure why he needs eyeshadow but at least it’s a pretty black one. Richard loves only three colors: red, black and white and he’s glad his look will fulfill that.

“God, he looks stunning already. How are you doing this?” Paul asks, when he comes back into the room and looks at Richard, who actually feels a bit ridiculous being stared at by his friends.

“It’s my job. Also I feel like black always looks good on him.”, Schneider says and Richard sighs a bit. He feels already exhausted and the worst part is still to come.

“Lipstick?” Schneider asks and Richard shrugs. It wouldn’t be his first time wearing some. He actually really likes to wear makeup, but he’d never done it like this.

“Go for it,” Olli says and then Richard has to pout a bit, so Schneider can put it on.

“All done.”, Schneider announces a few minutes later, when he’s satisfied with his own work. Richard finally turns around and looks back to the huge mirror he's sitting in front of.

To his own surprise he does look rather good. He can’t help but smile the tiniest bit.

“Hey, don’t fall in love with yourself!” Paul laughs, when he sees how Richard looks. Richard gives him the finger and leans closer to the mirror. Schneider really knows how to do this. Richard would need to ask him sometime about a few tricks.

Secretly. Without Paul hearing.

“Now let’s get you into the dress,” Paul says and he’s already holding it up again. Richard rolls his eyes, but he takes the dress and then goes to the back of the shop, where he can change without everyone cheering on him.

It doesn’t take long for him to change into the dress, but he isn’t sure if he feels comfortable. Yes the dress looks good, but Richard is nervous as fuck by now and he hates to feel nervous. He even sees the garter belts Paul had laid out for him. He swears but pulls it on anyway.

Never does something good happen to him when he’s this nervous, but he would try.

He even shaved his legs, armpits and chest for this. Paul had messaged him that earlier. To ‘save the deal’. Richard normally shaves his chest and armpits anyway but it had felt new to shave his legs.

What exactly did they all think Till would do to his legs?

“Richard, I wanna go home. Come out now,” Flake says and Richard chuckles. He knows they all have families to go home to. He wishes he’d share that with his friends.

Richard looks at a mirror and smiles shyly at his reflection. He has to admit that he actually likes what he sees. Yes, he loves to be a man and he likes his boys, but… but he likes this side about himself as well. Is that wrong?

Richard shakes his head.

“How do I look?” Richard asks, when he steps back into the room with the others. He’d meant to ask it as a joke, but he hears his own insecurity in his voice and against his will he can feel himself tearing up.

Why does he feel so pretty in this? And why does he feel stupid at the same time?

“Stunning,” Paul says and to Richard’s relief, Paul doesn’t seem to make a joke about it. He’s smiling his soft smile and even holds his thumbs up. Richard chuckles a bit wetly and Paul hastily holds his arms out for a hug.

“Thank you,” Richard whispers and Paul nods against his shoulder.

“Now lets finish this up, so you can finally go and meet your prince,” Paul says softly and Richard breaks the hug. The other three look very happy to see Richard like this as well.

Paul holds a new wig up and this time the hair is a bit shorter. The wig looks good and even though Richard is still not sure about all of this, he nods again and Paul helps him with a hairnet. After that it only takes a short moment and then he’s wearing the wig.

Richard can’t help his tiny smile again.

“Damn, now I kinda wanna marry you,” Schneider jokes from his seat next to Richard. He knows that he’s not serious, but Richard can’t help but feel a bit flustered at those words. He has to say he likes what he sees in the mirror.

Paul brushes his hair for a short moment and then smiles at Richard.

“Thank you,” Richard whispers.

“Oh we need something for his chest. I bought straw,” Schneider says and he picks up his bag from the floor. Richard’s eyes widen at that.

“Straw?” Richard asks, a bit bewildered.

“I didn’t have anything else at home,” Schneider says and with that he gets up and takes a step forwards to Richard. Before he can even say anything Schneider already puts the straw into his dress. It does fill out his lack of boobs, even though Richard does have a nice chest already.

“See looks good,” Schneider says and Richard sighs. It’s a lost cause anyways.

“Then let’s go! I’ll drive you to Till. And don’t forget your heels,” Paul says and he’s already grabbing his keys. The other three guys are all clapping and celebrating loudly now. Richard’s cheeks heat up. They are so embarrassing.

“Go get your tiger!” Olli.

“Be careful, Richard.” Flake.

“I’d totally fuck him like this.” Schneider.

He hates his friends. And he loves them.

♪

“Okay, here we go. I’ll bring you to the door,” Paul announces as if Richard doesn’t know Till’s house. He’s been there more often than in his own home. Richard hastily pulls his cigarettes out.

He’d actually need like twenty to calm his damn mind.

“Paul… I can’t talk! He will know it’s me, when I’m starting to talk!” Richard says then, just when he takes the first drag of his cigarette. What the fuck were they even thinking? This plan was so dumb.

“I already told Till that my cousin was shy. You don’t really have to speak. And we both know as soon as Till is on you, you really turn shy,” Paul grins at him and Richard slaps him on the arm.

“You’re an asshole,” Richard announces and then he stomps out his cigarette. He wants to get over this. It would end in a disaster anyway, but maybe his feelings would finally go away after this.

“But a pretty one,” Paul answers and then he kneels down to help Richard into the heels. Richard blushes badly.

Luckily the walk to Till’s door is very short, but Richard manages just fine. Luckily the heels are rather sturdy and not super high. He’d worn boots that were more tricky to walk in sometimes.

“Hey Till!” Paul yells, when the door opens.

Richard’s heart stops when he sees Till. He looks damn good in his white shirt and the damn Lederhosen. He’s not sure he can pull this off. He knows Till can still see a tiny bit and surely he would recognise his best friend?

“Hello my dear. Aren’t you a lovely sight?” Till says, when he seems to spot someone next to Paul. Paul chuckles loudly into Richard’s ear.

Richard can’t help the quiet giggle.

“Hi,” Richard whispers. His voice is lighter and even a bit higher than usual. He’d kill Paul later for being able to witness this. Paul’s smile turns almost mad, but he does turn around and walks back to the car.

“I wish you so much fun. Till uses condoms please,” Paul yells and with that he’s done. Richard is still standing outside the door and isn’t sure what he should do now. Till is smiling though.

“I must say your cousin can be really rude sometimes. Leaves a Lady standing outside like this. Please come inside, I managed to make us something to eat,” Till says and he steps back into his house, but he even holds the door open.

Richard hastily walks inside and looks around. It looks like always, but it seems like Till did clean a bit up. That’s a cute touch.

“Please sit down,” Till says and he even pulls the chair back so Richard can sit down on it. The table is fully laid with Till’s best dishes. Richard can already smell the nice food. When they were younger he had always tried to teach Till a few things.

“Thank you,” Richard whispers.

He does want Till to have a nice evening now. Till had told him all week how excited he’d been for this day, because it’s been so long since anyone would even agree to a simple date with him.

Richard knows that Till craves affection, even though he would never say it out loud or well at least not sober.

So Richard would behave and be the best date he could be for Till. Because that’s what his best friend deserves. Richard coughs slightly, he’d need to talk a lot higher than usual. He puts one leg over the other and sighs.

He has no idea how a lady behaves. And isn’t that though alone sexist? A girl could walk and talk how she wanted!

But Till knows his voice, so he should cover that up.

Till brings some food over to the table. It’s a simple pasta dish, but Richard knows that it’s Till’s favorite.

“Oh that looks so good, thank you,” Richard says and he hopes Till doesn’t recognize his voice. He seems safe for now, because Till doesn’t give him any weird stares or anything.

“I hope you’ll like it,” Till says.

After that it’s a bit quiet. They both eat in silence, while Richard tries to calm his racing heart down. He has no idea how to behave or what to do. His own last date has been years ago.

“So uhm Paul didn’t tell me a lot about you Ricarda,” Till starts and it’s already awkward.

Richard would murder Paul for that name.

“Oh uhm, there’s not much to tell. I’m… living a boring life to be honest,” Richard says quietly.

“I bet that’s not true. A beautiful woman like you has probably lots of adventures,” Till says and Richard giggles again. He isn’t sure what is going on with him today. He never giggled like that before!

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Richard asks then and he leans a bit more over the table. Till uses that and puts his hand over Richard’s. He carefully strokes over his hand and Richard shudders under the touch.

“You have wonderful hands. So soft,” Till whispers and then he fully takes Richard’s hand in his own. Richard stops breathing, when Till lifts their hands and presses a short kiss to the back of Richard’s hand.

“Oh uh thank you,” Richard whispers back. Voice still so high. He’d pin it on the butterflies in his stomach later.

“So please tell me about yourself,” Till says again and Richard sighs. The next hour they talk about everything and nothing. Richard has to be super careful, so he doesn’t spill too much but there are things he never talked about with Till before and he focuses on that, even though of course he also mentions music a lot. Sue him.

“And I enjoy rainy days actually. They make me feel safe when I’m home alone. I like hearing the rain on my windows, it calms me down and I could read books all day,” Richard admits and normally he’d be embarrassed, but if Till doesn’t know it’s him he can talk about the real him.

Or at least about the part he never told anyone about.

“Yeah I share that. I write the best poems, when I’m alone and it’s raining all day,” Till admits and Richard looks up. He hadn’t known that Till was still writing poetry. He had told them all he had stopped after the band broke up.

Richard had never understood how he could so easily stop doing what he always loved. Richard and Paul often sat together to play some stupid old tunes and he knows Schneider even taught his kids to play the drums.

“You write poems?”

“Yeah, I uh… a few. Not so many anymore, but I do have a few,” Till admits and he seems a bit embarrassed. Richard wishes he could kiss him right. He always loved it whenever Till turned shy and he often did that about things he loved.

“Can you show me something?” Richard asks. He knows he won’t tell the guys about this. Till obviously didn’t want them to know, but Richard can’t help it. He’d always loved the way Till could tell stories with beautiful words that nobody else seemed to know.

“Yeah,” Till whispers and he gets up.

It doesn’t take him long to find his laptop and Till comes back to the table. Richard had already taken their empty plates and put them back into the kitchen. Till smiles all cutely at him when he realizes and expresses his thanks.

Till opens a few folders and Richards sits next to him now. He wishes he could take Till’s hand in his own hand again.

“Uhm here,” Till says and opens a document awkwardly. Richard smiles and then starts to read. The poems still have the same pain like his old song texts always had. It’s about so much hurt and love, that Richard feels like he stops breathing.

“Oh, they’re beautiful,” Richard whispers and he even strokes over the screen. The last one is called “Diamant” and Richard has to say it’s his favorite.

“They’re sad,” Till answers and Richard sighs.

“Many things are sad and beautiful at the same time,” Richard says and Till nods. Richard is sure they both could be found under that definition. He knows Till is always sad and a bit broken, but that doesn’t matter. He’s still beautiful and Richard would do anything to make him feel better.

Till deserves happiness.

Richard tries to swallow his own feelings down. He wants Till to have a wonderful date no matter what would happen between them. He knows that Till often believes that he doesn’t deserve anything good.

“Who’s your Princess of Darkness?” Richard asks then, when he sees that folder on Till’s Desktop. Till hastily closes the laptop and grins a bit embarrassed at him. Maybe it only contains porn videos.

“And old crush. Nothing to worry about,” Till says and Richard’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest. So Till does have someone that he really likes. Richard is kinda hurt, that he never knew that. They thought they were best friends.

“All good,” Richard says, but he can’t help but wonder. And worry.

“I’m glad that you’re here though, that is what matters right now. I could never resist such a beautiful woman. And since I’m almost blind I want you to know that I’m not talking about your looks, I mean this,” Till says and he pokes into Richard’s chest. Richard chuckles. Old Pervert.

“My chest?”

“Your heart!” Till says and they both start to laugh. Richard almost leans over and just kisses him. Even now he feels comfortable around Till. Sure he’s nervous but there is the same trust he always has in the man.

“You’re adorable,” Richard whispers and then Till actually leans closer. Richard can already feel his breath on his face and he smiles.

“Would I… uh can I kiss you?”

Richard smiles wider when he sees how nervous Till seems now. Richard finds it endearing, even though he knows that there’s another side to him as well. He shudders under Till’s gaze, he’d love those eyes no matter what.

“Please,” Richard whispers back, this is everything he’d ever wanted.

Till finally closes the gap between them and kisses him. Richard gasps quietly into the kiss, already opening his mouth for Till. He’s desperate, so what? Till doesn’t seem shy now either and he groans against Richard’s lips.

The kiss is as good as Richard always imagined it, but he may be a bit biased. Till’s tongue finds his own and Richard is glad that they’re still sitting otherwise he’d probably make a fool out of himself.

“Fuck,” Till mutters, when he breaks the kiss. Richard agrees.

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?” Richard asks then because now he really has a goal. He would make Till happy whatever the cost may be. Richard’s heart would be broken either way, because he doesn’t want to pretend for the rest of his days to be something he’s not.

“You’re perfect huh?” Till laughs, but he’s getting up and takes Richard’s hand in his own. Richard hastily follows him. He has no idea how he would pull this off, but he’s always been good at faking basically anything.

“Sit down,” Richard whispers, when they’re in front of Till’s bed and Till kisses him again. Richard chuckles, when he sees that Till had cleaned here as well. There’s not even any dust anywhere.

Cheeky Bastard. Not that Richard minds. He had known that Till had this as his goal of the night.

“Bossy,” Till whispers, but he does as he’s told. Richard shudders, but he sits quietly on Till’s lap and kisses him quiet. This feels better than any of the countless dreams he’s ever had. Richard carefully wiggles a bit on his lap.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Till asks, laughing. Richard carefully opens the white shirt and carefully kisses Till’s neck.

This time Till seems to get on with the idea, because he puts his hand on Richard’s ass and squeezes him closer against himself. Richard gasps, he has to be really careful so Till doesn’t feel that he has something between his legs.

Something that feels rather interested in the turns of the night by now.

Richard is a bit surprised that Till is not really going for his chest, but he can’t help but relax a bit. He probably would know in an instant that his chest was fake. It had already been a close call when he’d touched it earlier, but there he hadn’t squeezed it or anything.

“I really wanna blow you,” Richard whispers against Till’s skin and he can feel how Till shudders at that. Richard had never done this before, but he knows that this will be his only chance.

Till groans, but he helps Richard to get his shirt out of the way. Richard hastily gets up from his lap again and he nearly adjusts himself in his underwear, until he remembers. Instead he kneels between Till’s knees.

Richard looks up at Till and for a moment they are just looking at each other.

Till blinks.

“I don’t think anyone would look hotter than you on your knees,” Till says and Richard looks down to the ground. He’s not sure what to do with words like this, when Till doesn’t even know who he is.

Till throws his shirt away now and Richard groans. Damn he’s sure Till could fill the dress out without any of the straw in it. He strokes carefully over the hot skin, while Till clearly enjoys the attention.

“Now be good for me,” Richard says and he opens Till’s trousers. It’s obvious that his hands are shaking, but Richard wants this so bad.

“I’ll do anything for you,” Till promises and that feels like too much. Richard wishes that Till would mean that promise. That they could do this more often, that he could be Till’s until they stopped breathing one day.

Richard giggles a bit when Till tries to get out his pants. He has no idea how they actually manage to pull it even down, because Till wiggles so much, but he’s laughing as well. Richard is glad that the atmosphere is still so casual.

Then finally Till pulls his underwear down and Richard groans. Till’s dick is already hard, Richard licks his lips. He really has just an idea, what to do now, but he couldn’t just chicken out now.

“FIrst time?” Till whispers, when Richard doesn’t move.

“Yeah. You must think I’m nuts,” Richard whispers, but Till shakes his head and then pulls him up for another kiss. He kisses him so softly this time, Richard is sure his heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“You don’t have to,” Till says and Richard puts his hand against Till’s cheek and strokes him there carefully. Richard knows Till is often enough just all talk. This is almost cute though.

“I want to. I’m just scared it won’t be good for you,” Richard admits, but Till carefully kisses along his neck. Richard leans closer and arches his back. Fuck he hopes he’s covered in Till’s marks tomorrow, so he could always remember this night.

“It will be good for me alone because it’s you,” Till says and Richard kisses his cheek. Who knew that Till could be such a romantic. Not that he knows this character that Richard plays, but it’s cute either way.

Richard kneels down again and this time he carefully takes Till’s cock in his own hand. It’s almost burning hot and so hard, Richard gasps.

“Fuck yeah,” Till groans above him.

Richard carefully strokes over the full length and he has to say that he really likes this feeling. He’d always wanted to know how this would feel and he’s not disappointed. Till sighs all happily, when Richard carefully rubs over the red tip.

Just when he sees that Till is closing his eyes, Richard leans forward and takes the tip into his mouth. Till almost falls off the bed, he’s that surprised, but Richard holds his hips down. Fuck he never had more power than this.

“You taste so good,” Richard whines and then he licks over the whole length, before h e dares to put more into his mouth. He carefully sucks on Till’s cock and moans around it, because fuck that is actually pretty hot.

Just as he thinks, he does know what to do, he actually chokes on Till’s dick.

Till laughs a bit and Richard pulls away to catch his breath.

“You’re doing really good,” Till says and he strokes Richard's long hair. Richard really hopes the wig will stay on otherwise he’d be fucked. And not in the fun way he wants to be fucked.

He kisses Till’s hip a few times, before he tries again. This time it works better and he can carefully swallow around Till’s cock. He doesn’t even dare to put him fully inside his mouth, instead he helps with his hand.

Richard’s own cock is aching badly by now and he wishes he could touch himself. He kinda wants to come just from sucking Till’s cock but he’s sure that won’t happen. If he could at least hump against something…

Just then he carefully licks over Till’s tip again.

“Richard,” Till moans softly and Richard’s heart flutters. He can’t believe this is happening, this is what he had always dreamed about and -

Wait.

Richard?

Richard hastily sits up again and wipes over his mouth. This couldn’t be true. He looks into Till’s eyes, he sees the smirk on his face.

“Uh uhm…,” Richard doesn’t even know what to say and isn’t that a first for him.

“Don’t get mad, ok sweetheart?” Till says and he sits up. Richard looks away, while Till pulls up his underwear again. He’s still hard and Richard can’t help but lick over his lips. It’s too bad he couldn’t finish his job. That isn’t the problem though.

Then Richard frowns, Till knows, he feels used.

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long did you know it was me?!” Richard can’t help but yell. He hastily takes the wig off and throws it to the ground. He can see that Till is a bit surprised at his reaction, but Richard had never been more embarrassed.

“Since… since Paul called me last Saturday after he told you his plan,” Till admits and Richard gets up. He walks around the small coffee table and shakes his head. This isn’t true. He’s just dreaming all of this, no way would his friends do that to him.

“And for what… to m-make fun of me and my feelings?” Richard asks and he has to turn around. He can’t help it and he feels himself tearing up. God why had he told Paul about his feelings for Till.

“No, what? Richard, please come here again,” Till begs, but Richard can’t do anything but start to shake. They all had known how much in love he’s been with Till and they had done all of this stuff to embarrass him?

“I can’t do this,” Richard says and then he wants to leave. Even almost blind Till is still fast and he’s out of his seat in a second, only to hold Richard on his elbow.

“Richard, wait. I can explain!”

“Yeah how?”

Richard knows his voice is cold, but he’d never felt more betrayed in his life. He had thought Paul was his friend. He had thought Till was his best friend. Why would they hurt him like this on purpose?

He’d never been more embarrassed, he feels exposed and shamed.

“Paul knew that I was in love with you and he wanted… he said that you liked me too,” Till says and he looks down at his hands. Richard feels like someone knocked his breath out of him.

Because what?

“You’re… joking.”

“I’m not. I was annoying them all with my talks about you. I’ve been crazy about you for years and I never knew… you had your wife and when you didn’t… you said you waited for someone special,” Till explains carefully. He sounds a bit broken.

Richard likes to fix things. Something as special as Till doesn’t deserve to be hurt and broken.

“I found my special someone already, I just thought he wouldn’t like me. All he did was talk about boobs,” Richard says quietly. He’s still standing in the middle of the room. This time Till looks up again.

“Yeah, eh sorry. I mean I like them a lot, and especially yours, but that was mostly so you wouldn’t find out. Schneider said my longing was so obvious,” Till admits and Richard carefully walks back to the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same question. I was just… not sure I’d be the one you would want. You deserve someone better,” Till says. Richard sits back down next to him and carefully reaches out to take his hand again.

“I never wanted anyone else but you.”

Till’s smile at that is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“I still don’t understand why I had to dress like this then,” Richard says and Till chuckles a bit.

“Paul said you’d never ask me out and since I didn’t either, he wanted to take things in his own hands. Guess he thought you’d only kiss me if you thought I wouldn’t recognize you,” Till says and Richards sighs.

He would kill Paul. And kiss him too maybe.

“I was scared and now I made an ass out of myself,” Richard says and Till shakes his head.

“No, you look gorgeous and I… I like you in every way, Reesh. You could never look bad for me. It was the best date I had in years,” Till answers easily and Richard blushes badly at that.

Fuck how would he ever get used to this.

“You’re being such a charmer.”

“Is it working?”

Richards nods and then he kisses Till again. He’s glad that they finally talked about this, even though he can’t believe that Till likes him back.

“Would you have recognized me even if Paul hadn’t told you?” Richard wants to know and he’s surprised that Till nods.

“Sure would. You do know that I’m not completely blind? And my favorite face in the world is something I’d always recognize. Even under all that beautiful makeup,” Till says and he presses another shy kiss to Richard’s cheek.

“So you like it?”

“It’s important that you like it. But yes I love how you look today. But I also love you in your ugly sweatpants, so I’m a bit biased. I don’t need any women’s tits, when I’ve got yours here,” Till laughs and he pokes into Richard’s chest again.

“Oh now that you mention it. The straw really itches like hell,” Richard says and he gets up again. He finally pulls the straw out of his dress and then throws it into the garbage can in Till’s kitchen. He then walks back, but stops at the doorway.

Till is still on the bed, still hard and Richard almost laughs.

“You want a show?” Richard asks and he wiggles his hips a bit. Till hastily nods and then Richard walks back over to him. He gets out of his shoes and throws them away. This time he sits fully on Till’s lap and can relax, he even wants Till to feel his hard dick.

“I want nothing more than everything of you,” Till says and Richard shudders in his arms. It’s something he can promise Till easily.

They kiss again and this time it feels even better, because they both know now. Richard’s dick presses against Till’s stomach this time and then Till’s hands finally find their way under his dress.

Richard’s breath hitches, when Till strokes over his cock.

“Now you’ll be a good girl for me, yeah?” Till whispers directly into his ear and Richard is sure that he will die right there in his lap. Till chuckles and then carefully kisses Richard’s neck.

It doesn’t take long before Richard starts to thrust up in Till’s fist. Till rubs his own cock against his ass and Richard wishes he could stay forever in this moment. Just then Till opens his legs a bit more and Richard sits a bit back. Till gets his cock out again and Richard grins.

“Make me come, will you?”

Till does exactly what Richard had wanted and he takes them both together in his strong hand. The moment they touch, Richard moans loudly and Till kisses him so hard that Richard is sure his lips will bruise as well.

Not that he will complain.

“You feel so damn good,” Till says and Richard can only nod at this point. He feels already too far gone. He’s still wearing the dress, his garter belt fully seen now that the dress is pulled up a bit, while his shoes are under the bed somewhere.

He’d never felt more sexy.

“I love you,” Richard whispers and that’s the moment Till comes over their stomachs. Richard groans at the feeling and it only takes a few more strokes until he’s coming as well.

Till falls back on the bed and RIchard giggles, when he falls on his broad chest. This has to be his favorite space in the world now.

“God I’ve been in love with you for such a long time,” Till mumbles against his skin and Richard smiles at that. He can’t believe that Till even likes him at all, but he’s glad they finally talked about it.

Just then Richard sits up again.

“Wait, am I your princess of Darkness?” Richards wants to know and Till laughs loudly at that. Richard pouts at him.

“Of course who else would it be?” Till says then and his smile turns so soft. Richard can’t help but smile as well.

“You are so adorable. So you wrote poems about me? Can I read them?” Richard asks and Till kisses him quiet, not that Richard really minds. He kisses him happily back. ANd then again just because he can.

“Sure if you want to,” Till whispers and then he lays back down. Richard cuddles against his chest and closes his eyes.

He’s never been happier.

“I love you,” Till hums and presses another kiss into his hair. Richard sighs happily.

“I love you too.”

“You’re thinking about reading the poems right now, am I right?” Till asks then and Richard is out of the bed before Till is even finished with his sentence. Till barks out a laugh at that.

He knew why he fell for that idiot so long ago.

Till takes his time, but he follows Richard back to the living room and sits down next to him. Richard holds his hand out and Till takes it, only to press another kiss to the back of his hand. Richard sighs happily.

“In exchange for that I wanna feel you in that dress again, since I feel like I consider myself an ass-man now and yours was just fantastic in that,” Till says and Richards snorts.

“You don’t even have to ask,” Richard answers.

It starts to rain.

Life is good sometimes.

#tillchard #tillchard fanfic #till lindemann / richard kruspe

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bluestmoons · 2 years

Text

So Serra she was dubbed, and so she grew up, in a poor little convent.

A parting gift was left with her — a gold coin necklace, fastened around her. The nuns let her keep it when they couldn’t get anyone to buy it off them, so poor their village was.

A sister came and dragged her away, and shrieked, “Are you kidding? How dare you talk to someone like him like that?”

“Why’s he so special?”

“Well, he’s a duke, Serra!”

Serra didn’t know what that meant. The next day, she asked the kindly old man who attended sessions what a duke was.

The man explained to her the hierarchy, and how people could be born into honor. She was fascinated, and wanted it.

“You know,” he said, “your name, Sara, means princess, actually.”

Her eyes lit up — could it really be? Could she be a forgotten princess?

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve not heard of any princesses going missing.”

She had escaped her old home. By taking pieces of other people, she’d made a full, coherent-enough self. She was able to be something, rather than rot away in that convent, forever.

And that’s how Serra’s life started. Truly started, really. How she came to be, and how she escaped her childhood.

At least… she’d thought she’d escaped it. But was she really confident in this self she’d built? Was there not some piece of her that was still the child who got hit for singing or laughing, who watched other children die due to negligence, who blamed herself for the death of a boy meant to be sleeping next to her who froze to death when she hogged the blankets in her sleep?

Well… perhaps there’s still some things she has to go through. But that can wait another day, surely.

Can’t it?

#( out of dreams. )#( the rising of. ) serra.#( the light of. ) serra.#( the gravity of. ) serra.

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sansaorgana · 2 years

Text

— SCOUNDREL

PAIRING — Han Solo x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Han shows up again in the cantina you’re working at a few months after breaking your heart. You are not happy to see him but he wants to take you away from Tatooine and that’s something you’ve always wanted more than anything.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Han was my first crush ever since I was 4 years old and saw him on my parents’ old TV screen. 🙈 I’m not immune to his charm at all and the Reader is not either, no matter what she says. Kinda Han and Leia dynamic but the Reader is not a Princess of any kind.

WORD COUNT — 1,460

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

SCOUNDREL

The hour was still early so the cantina was mostly empty, therefore you could focus on cleaning the tables and floors in peace. You absolutely hated that place with all your heart but on the outside you had to pretend that you were grateful for the opportunity to have a job.

Well, you were grateful for the money… Except for the fact that your boss had been taking half of your earnings. Apparently, every damaged item at the cantina during your working hours had been your fault. Like all those drunk men were fighting because of you. Ridiculous.

Now, you were working peacefully and already preparing mentally for another busy evening. You couldn’t wait to have a few days off.

You heard some people entering the cantina but you didn’t turn around, too busy cleaning the counter. You waited for them to order something but instead you heard them sitting down and then… a familiar growl.

You turned around as fast as possible. You had to see with your own eyes and there they were – a brown haired man with a cocky smile and his furry companion.

“Han Solo, you son of a bitch,” you placed the cloth you had been cleaning with on your shoulder and put your hands on your hips.

“Nice to see you, too, Angel face,” the man smirked.

“It takes balls, you know, to come back here after everything you’ve done,” you gritted your teeth while the Wookie growled. You ignored him, though, because you weren’t mad at him but rather at his human friend.

“Would you accuse me of not having any?” Solo couldn’t stop smirking like the situation was funny.

“Are you mad?” you lowered your voice and leaned over the counter to take a better look at his smug face. “Not only you seduced me and took me on a trip that turned out to be one of your smuggling jobs – I could have been killed there, let me remind you! – then you took me back here like nothing had happened and you left without saying goodbye. Now, I’ve also heard that Jabba wants to put a price on your head, dumbass!” you scolded him.

“Something tells me you’re only mad about the first part.”

“It would be better for you to leave this planet as soon as possible,” you straightened your back and went to clean the counter.

“Look at her, Chewie, she’s still angry at me about that!” Han exclaimed at his friend. “Listen here, lady, I told you I’d be back and I am,” he pointed his finger at you.

“Don’t call me lady, scoundrel!” you huffed. “And certainly, you must think of me as an idiot. You believe I don’t know you have women like me on every planet you go to?”

Han gasped dramatically and eventually stood up before pushing Chewie’s arm.

“Let’s go, Chewie, I won’t listen to such accusations.”

You rolled your eyes at that and watched them leave the cantina.

For a few more days you were seeing Han and Chewie hanging around but you never interacted with each other unless you had to serve them drinks. Every time he’d smirk at you while you’d give him deadly stares from the corner of your eye.

“Come on, beautiful, when will you finally talk to me and allow me to explain?” he grabbed your wrist one time when you were grabbing the empty glasses from his table. “I had a job, I had to leave…” he started but you didn’t want to listen to it.

“Greedo’s been asking for you,” you turned your annoyed face around to look at him. “You better leave the planet. Staying here is a suicide.”

“So… You worry about me,” Han teased and you pulled your hand away from his grip.

“The fact I have more decency than you, shouldn’t give you ideas,” you finished before going back behind the counter.

You put the glasses down and took off your apron since your shift for that day was over. You were grateful to go home before the evening – when the most fights and dramas occurred.

You were renting a room in one of the houses near the cantina so you only bought a few groceries on your way back and ended up laying down on your bed while staring at the ceiling and thinking about how awful your life had been.

Han Solo’s return had opened some old wounds for sure. It had been a few months since your last encounter and you weren’t ready yet to see him. He had been promising you many amazing things with his sweet words and promises but the most important one was to take you far away from Tatooine and show you the new worlds all over the galaxy while having adventures together.

It had been that smile of his – of that you were sure. His smile made you believe all of that, although you should had known that he was trouble.

“(Y/N),” someone knocked upon your door and you groaned before walking up to open them. It was the girl renting a room next to yours – Anda.

“What do you want, Anda?” you asked.

“There’s some man here by the front door. He wants to see you,” she had a smirk on her face.

“What do you mean some man?” you rolled your eyes and went to the hall, intrigued.

You hoped it wasn’t anyone from the cantina, sent by your boss to tell you that they needed you at work. But when you finally saw his figure, you froze and clenched your fists.

“You really have the audacity to come to my house!” you exclaimed at the sight of Han Solo. He was looking around but at the sound of your angry voice he flinched and turned around to face you.

“Ah, there you are,” he smiled. “Listen, shrew, I’m getting out of here. I’ve found an easy job and I’m gonna get enough credits to pay Jabba off. After that, I promise, I’ll take you with me, kid,” he approached you to put his hands on your arms but you took a step back.

“I don’t believe a single word leaving your dirty mouth, Solo,” you sneered. “If you leave now, I don’t ever want to see you again.”

He sighed and thought for a second before eventually coming up with an idea.

“Come with me then.”

“What? Now?!” your eyes widened.

“Yeah. It’s an easy job, I just gotta take an old man and some guy to Alderaan. Come on, you deserve better than this place,” he tried to convince you.

“And you’re that better?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Listen, we’re leaving in half an hour. You do what you want, (Y/N). Docking bay 94,” he nodded at you and turned around to leave the house.

You kept standing there with a poker face on because you didn’t want him to see any hint of excitement but the moment the doors closed after him, you ran to your room and started to pack your bag with the most important items.

Half an hour later you were literally running to the docking bays. Suspicious of your behavior Anda had been asking millions of questions and taking your precious time so now you were hurrying to be there before they would leave.

Perhaps you were about to make the same mistake twice – running away with Han Solo like there were no consequences to your actions – but it was better to live some life before dying. At least you’d have stories to tell.

The closer you were to the docking bay 94, the more you could hear the sounds of the blasters. You furrowed your brow and started to run even faster.

When you entered the docking bay, you froze at the sight of a few stormtroopers laying dead on the ground while the rest were shooting at the Millenium Falcon and Han who was trying to get on board in the middle of it all.

The one aiming at Solo hadn’t seen you coming in all that fervor of the fight. You still could back off, leave danger and go back home.

Instead, you lifted your bag up in the air and hit the back of the stormtrooper’s head with it. He fell to the ground, dazed.

“Woo hoo! That’s my girl!” you heard Han screaming at you.

You ran up to him and he held out his hand to help you to get inside the ship.

“You don’t get to call me that, Solo,” you told him sternly but there was a goofy smile on your face.

“We’ll see about that,” he winked at you before running towards the cockpit. “Chewie! Get us out of here!”

MASTERLIST

#han solo x reader #lilysfiction

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addictofreading · 3 years

Text

Zutara Week 2021 Day 4: No Official Prompt

Prompt Used: Lavender

It had started with garden walks. Zuko had needed an excuse to get away from ruling a nation and Katara had needed time away from ambassador duties. And they both needed a friend. So they’d walk the palace gardens together for an hour or so a few times a week and talk about anything but politics or war.

The thing about palaces, however, was that privacy was a hard thing to come by. There were too many people, too many eyes and ears casually waiting about, even in the flower gardens, that it was hard to feel relaxed. So Zuko and Katara would go slightly farther afield. As it turned out, the palace vegetable and herb gardens were much less populated during certain times of day, particularly the lavender field.

Katara loved lavender. Loved the comforting smell, the bright yet subtle colors, the many medicines and foods it could be added to. And she loved having a special, private spot on palace grounds that was just for her and Zuko to share.

As years went by they would walk the rows of the lavender field together as often as they could. It was there where Zuko finally got annoyed at his own uncertainty and actually asked Katara if he could officially court her. He’d been so determined to make himself go through with it that he sounded more angry than hopeful. It was a sign of just how well Katara knew him now that she was able to see through him. After she had stopped laughing, she kissed him squarely on the lips in a way that left no doubt of her answer.

The first time they said “I love you” was in the lavender field at sunset. The scent of lavender seemed to cling stronger than usual that night when sleep was hard to find.

After they eventually married they still tried to walk together in the field. As an anniversary gift Zuko had erected a small gazebo there, just big enough for two, where no one else was allowed. However running a nation was a lot of work, even when it was flourishing in a non-colonial way, and it was often hard to spend much quality time together even outside the lavender field. They both preferred to be busy and useful rather than be idle for very long, but there were times when the long days took a toll on them.

During the hard times it wouldn’t be uncommon for a small clipping of lavender to be found somehow rolled up in the pile of documents needed to be read that day. Or for lavender tea to be brought unrequested. Little unexpected gestures that to any onlooker might seem cute, but to Zuko and Katara were silent declarations of love. Katara would wear lavender in her hair to a meeting and Zuko would be itching to kiss her, his mood instantly improved. Zuko would secretly stuff Katara’s gloves with dried lavender when he’s unable to join her on her visits home and Katara would sleep with them at night, breathing in their shared memories.

But more often than not, the little gestures would be unnecessary. Because the Fire Lord and Lady would clear an hour or so from their schedule and walk together in their field, talking about anything but politics or war.

———————————————-

Wheee! That’s it for my two contributions to this year’s ZK Week! Now I get to sit back and enjoy the influx of Zutara creations! Thank you to the mods for being so dedicated and amazing for the Zutara community! <3

#addictofreading #fanart #zutara #zuko #katara #avatar the last airbender #ficlet #lavender #zutara week 2021 #zutara week #I really enjoyed drawing this!#they are so in love you guys!

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

How the Brothers Would Feel About the MC Crushing On the (Un)Dateables

Lucifer

Diavolo- This man is so conflicted… He really, really wants to tell Diavolo to back off but like… it's Diavolo. It's not like he can actually do that… The best he can do is work his ass off and hope the MC comes to their senses soon enough...

Barbatos- Oh. This one hurts a little. If there's a single person in the Devildom that breathes capability more than Lucifer, it's Barbs, so essentially losing out on MC for being just slightly not good enough is going to sting. Competitive mode engaged, he now needs to master EVERYTHING (including them) to prove he's worth their love.

Simeon- If Barbs stings, then this is personal. NO. He'd rather they'd date Mamm-actually that's too extreme-Levi! He'd be less angry at Levi… He will glare daggers at Simeon any time he's around and don't think you'll be spared either MC. This is betrayal of the highest caliber...

Solomon- Solomon is annoying, the MC liking Solomon is annoying, their relationship as a whole is going to be annoying… And now he's paranoid that the MC may try to leverage him into a pact with that irritating sorcerer… Devil spare him…

Mammon

Diavolo- *immediate financial insecurity* Look, babe, he can't give ya a castle but there's better things other than Grimm! Right? Right?? Please don't go with him, how in the world is he going to compete?!?

Barbatos- Oh come on! Barbs is like Lucifer, but somehow even more boring!! They can do so much better if they don't saddle themselves to the butler!! 😠

Simeon- Okay, what does that guy have that he doesn't?? An award-winning multimedia fantasy series? Angel wings?? Good shoulders?!-Wait hold on, what was that first thing? Is Simeon actually loaded??? One second, MC. OI SIMEON, BUDDY-!! 😁

Solomon- Hate to break it to ya, MC, but Solomon is bad news and you shouldn't date him. Period. Done. End of discussion. But dating the Great Mammon on the other hand-! 😏

Leviathan

Diavolo- His worst nightmare has been realized… Not Diavolo, anyone but Diavolo!! Even against MAMMON he has a shot, how in the world can he do better than royalty?!? It's not fair, IT'S NOT FAIR!!! 😫

Barbatos- Not his second worst nightmare too!!! 😭 Not even Lucifer could win against that guy!! Just throw in the towel and put him out of misery why don't you??

Simeon- As the lifetime president of the TSL fanclub, he must say!!!- Yeah, he kind of gets this one. I mean, he's not happy but Simeon is THE Christopher Puegot!! He's pretty much unassailable at this point. 🤷‍♀️

Solomon- He likes Solomon enough thanks to TSL, but like… Are you sure MC? His morning breakfast is a lethal weapon… 1,000 damage at least… And he'll make it every day… His bedtub doesn't sound so bad now, does it? 😌

Satan

Diavolo- He can see the logic of marrying into royalty… Certainly for a human. When you have such a short life, why not spend it in luxury? Don't think he's giving up, though, because for every content but stagnant royal, there's a dashing rogue to sweep them off their feet... 😏

Barbatos- Again, solid choice, MC. Would say no to having someone as capable as Barbs on an everyday basis? But you know, he's pretty capable too! Just… you know… Give him a century or so to catch up…

Simeon- Hold on, since when was the competition this serious?? Can he go back to just trying to beat out his brothers? There's hardly a chink in Simeon's armor, how is he supposed to get around that??

Solomon- Now okay, this might be a bit rich coming from him of all people, but you can't know what Solomon's thinking most of the time, MC... You shouldn't trust him. And even if you did, he'd poison you on accident...

Asmodeus

Diavolo- Strong arms, barrel chest, fantastic physique… Nice taste, MC~! 🤭 Oh, there's no point in being jealous of royalty, but have you really thought about your choices here? Why be with a Prince when you can be with the most beautiful creature in the universe?? Really! Just think about it!

Barbatos- Oh, oh!! 😃 It's just like old times again! Asmo, Barbatos, and Solomon (now MC!) tearing up the town!!... Huh? What do you mean he's not invited?? Well, we'll just see about that… 😤

Simeon- Oooo~! Who could blame you, MC?? He'd love to take a bite out of that angel any day... But he is an angel, you know. You can only have so much fun there... Not like you could with him, anyway~ 😘

Solomon- Yeeessss! He's in full support of his two favorite humans coming together as an item! Oh the fun they can all have together!! (Ssshhhh! Not now, Solomon! It'll be great! He'll be on his best behavior, don't worry... 😏)

Beelzebub

Diavolo- They can eat at the Demon Lord's Castle… everyday?? Yeah, he totally gets it!-Hm? You mean they're not with Diavolo for his food?? … Are they sure? It's really good food…

Barbatos- Gets it in a heartbeat. I mean, if HE could eat Barbs' cooking everyday he'd marry the guy too-Huh? They aren't interested in his cooking either? … Do they understand who they're talking about though?? That has to matter! Right??

Simeon- Mmmm…. BLTs…. 🤤 Don't tell him… No?!? MC, he's very concerned about your priorities… 😥

Solomon- No. He will not allow it. He's lost Lilith already, he's not going to lose MC too to Death by Tuna Surprise… Either MC moves on or he's taking Solomon's hands. Not his kitchen, just his hands. It's the only way to keep them safe… 😔

Belphegor

Diavolo- No. They can pick anyone else, but not Diavolo. Lucifer already licks the guy's boots and he's not going to lose MC to him too… Prepare for whiny Brat Mode in full force. 😒

Barbatos- I mean, sure, if you want to be with someone who's always super busy and will never have time for you… Barbs is a good choice. But if you want someone you can actually be with, you should stay with him - you know? Throwing it out there... 🤷‍♀️

Simeon- The angel? Really? I guess you want the man upstairs breathing down your neck then he's great. 🙄 What? He's just saying…

Solomon- Why would you want to be annoyed to death?? If Solomon isn't being frustrating, then he's probably going to kill them with a ham sandwich. Think about it, then get back to him - he'll bring the blankets this time. 😏

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me undateables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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sluttywonwoo · 3 years

Text

take it off || k.mg x reader

Pairing: mob!mingyu x fem reader

Summary: as much as you hate to admit it, jealousy looks good on your fiancé

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Mingyu, slow down,” you said with a sigh, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What was he thinking?” Mingyu spat, not acknowledging what you had just said. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.

You watched as his knuckles began to turn white and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Baby, take a deep breath. Relax.”

He just shrugged you off and cursed at the car in front of him.

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“It’s not a big deal, Gyu.”

He actually turned his head towards you and looked at you this time. “You’re joking.”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You winced, knowing you’d probably made it worse and that Mingyu was likely now picturing the grimy hands of ill-intentioned strangers all over your body.

“I should have him killed,” he snarled.

To most, that threat would sound completely ridiculous or utterly insane, but your fiancé was the head of the Seoul mob-the South West branch anyway- and he was no stranger to violence. Having someone killed would be as easy as snapping his fingers.

You scoffed to call his bluff.

“You think I won’t?” he challenged and you groaned.

“You promised you were done with that.”

It’s true, one of the conditions of your engagement had been that Mingyu agree to put the more sinister side of his business to rest, and although you trusted him, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how well he was upholding his end of the deal.

“I’d make an exception.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want some poor guy’s blood on my hands.”

At that, the car screeched to a stop right in the middle of the freeway. The cars behind you honked and flashed their lights at Mingyu as they maneuvered to avoid a collision.

You huffed in frustration, wanting to bang your head against the dashboard. This was exactly why you didn’t like for Mingyu to drive himself: he pulled dangerous shit all the time like this. Literally, all of his other men had drivers who took them places and you desperately wished Mingyu would hire someone, but he insisted that it was safest if he was the one driving (yet here you were in the middle of the highway).

“You could’ve fucking killed us!” you shouted, more annoyed than anything.

Mingyu took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But y/n, he’s not just some poor guy.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, Gyu. He fucking hates you, of course, he’d go after me, and he was drunk.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, foot still pressed firmly on the brake. “That’s not a fucking excuse, you of all people should know that. Why are you trying to defend him?”

“I’m not trying to defend him, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve to die. Can we please just get home?”

Mingyu relented and put the car back into motion making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Even though he didn’t say anything else you could tell his mind was still going a thousand miles a minute. You watched him chew at his lip in silence and wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of his. Nothing good, you could be sure of that.

Mingyu’s mind was darker than most. Occupational hazard. He carried so much pain that you hadn’t known about when you first met him. He’d let you in slowly, keeping you at arm’s length for months, until he almost lost you. And then he knew he couldn’t keep things from you anymore. It was still a challenge to understand his thought process sometimes, but you liked it that way. How could a ruthless, power-hungry mobster also be the most loving, family-oriented person you’d ever met in your life? How could someone who dropped a grand on a dinner like it was nothing secretly rather spend one more night picnicking with crappy Chinese food on the bedroom floor in your old apartment? You couldn’t think of an answer, and you didn’t want to.

The guy at the bar tonight had been some rival of Mingyu’s. You hadn’t seen him before, but you could tell because when Mingyu got up to get the two of you more drinks he swooped in and laid it on heavy. He looped one arm around your waist and placed his other hand on your knee and began attempting to seduce you. Sure, you were uncomfortable but more than anything you were angry. And tired. Tired of being used as bait, something to get to Mingyu.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you listened to the asshole talk about how much better he’d treat you than Mingyu until your fiancé eventually returned with your drinks in hand, face beet red, eyes dark with anger.

The man, you never caught his name, left the bar with a broken nose. Mingyu left with bruised knuckles. You’d thought it would end at that, but of course, once Mingyu got started it was hard for him to stop. It was a gift in the bedroom, but a curse in the rest of your life.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, Mingyu broke the silence in the car and said “I know what he said to you,” and it all clicked.

Normally, a hand on your shoulder, thigh, ass was enough to set Mingyu off, but combine that with the filthy words he’d undoubtedly overheard spilling from the man’s lips… no wonder all he could see was red.

“Mingyu, I-“

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start something.”

“Start something? Is that true? Or do you think he’s right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you think he can satisfy you better than I can?”

“Mingyu!”

“Well do you?”

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together, fighting a shiver. As irritating as Mingyu’s jealousy could be, the effect it had on you was even more infuriating. The man could already turn you on without doing anything and whenever he started acting a little jealous it was game over for you. It was pathetic, really.

“Why the fuck did he even think it was okay to look at you, let alone touch you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged finally settling in to play the game. “These big dudes with huge muscles just think they can have whoever they want.”

Mingyu whipped his head back towards you. “What did you say?”

You ignored him. “I mean he definitely wouldn’t be as good as you, but he could do some damage.” Mingyu was full-on glaring at you now, and you wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t give up so fast. “I mean, just one of his hands could probably wrap around my whole neck. Like they were giant, and you know what they say about guys with big hands-“

“Do you think this is funny?”

Any sane person wouldn’t even think about taunting Mingyu like this, not with his reputation, but you couldn’t be sane to be with someone like Mingyu anyway, and besides, you knew he was a big softie at heart.

“A little,” you admitted. “You look really hot right now.”

He really did. His hair was tousled with silver highlights from the moonlight streaming in through the windshield, his tan skin was flushed with adrenaline, and his white button-up was unbuttoned just a few times to show off his collarbone. You bit your lip. You were so fucking weak.

“That’s not going to work.”

“No?” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the console to see that he was already more than half hard in his dress pants. “Because it looks like it’s working.” You reached over and began to palm him through his trousers, smirking when he cursed and rolled his neck at the contact.

“Y/n, if I have to pull over, you’re not going to be able to walk for the next week.”

Oh no, that’d be horrible you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. He had to know that’s what you secretly wanted, right? Right? Why were men so stupid?

Either way, you took your hand back and moved it up under the hem of your dress to where you were feeling a little desperate for some friction. You sighed deeply when you rubbed yourself over your panties, not even surprised at how wet you were.

“Fuck,” you hissed out and hiked your legs up onto the seat so you could give Mingyu a better view.

“Stop that.”

He said it so forcefully that you froze, fingers hovering over your panties, about to pull them to the side. Then you smiled.

“No.” You went ahead and did it anyway, slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily.

You weren’t one to defy Mingyu often, especially when it came to what he asked of you in the bedroom, but you knew how crazy it drove him and just couldn’t resist.

Mingyu groaned, trying and failing to maintain an angry expression. His eyes betrayed an absolutely sinful lust that made you want to melt and you wished more than anything he’d just pull the fucking car over.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you gasped, “I wish these were your fingers, you’re so good with your fingers.”

“Yeah? You sure you wish they’re my fingers? Not someone else’s?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Never. You’re the only one who knows how to make me cum that hard.”

“Is that what you want? To cum hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, pumping your fingers in and out of you faster.

“Take off your dress.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right, you were still driving down the highway after all.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Not wanting to push your luck any further you didn’t hesitate to listen this time and pulled the loose fabric up and over your head.

“Good girl,” he praised and you whined. You were still wearing your bra and underwear and as much as you’d love to flash oncoming traffic, you hoped Mingyu wouldn’t ask you to take them off.

“You can touch yourself,” he said and you complied, knowing it was more of an instruction than an allowance.

It felt good, really good, but you still wished it was him instead of you.

“Fuck, darling you look so beautiful like that, God, I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“If, you stop, killing people,” you managed to get out through gritted teeth and Mingyu laughed.

“I’m not going to kill him, baby. I made a promise. You’re too important to risk losing, even if he is a fucking prick.”

You whimpered, the mixture of complete head-over-heels love you felt for Mingyu and pleasure making you crumble.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, reaching over and taking you by the wrist, stalling your movements just as you were about to fall over the edge. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.”

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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Note

Hey! Saw your post and saw you said you were upsettie spaghetti so I wanted to cheer you up!

Slashers who stop everything they’re doing because their “My S/O needs me” senses are tingling and go to their rescue to comfort their angry s/o?

I was hoping to come up with A way for you to get your emotions out through your writing- 😅

Hope you feel better! 🖤

I've never done a post in this style before so hopefully I do okay! I think I covered pretty much all the slashers I write for so far (I didn't do Billy Lenz because I still need to read the novelization). I may have gone way overboard, so if I do these in the future, I'll probably just pick a few instead of doing the whole roster 😅 (or you can pick for me). But doing this much work did distract me!

Above the cut:

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Included below the cut:

Michael Myers (OG)

Jason Voorhees

Leslie Vernon

Thomas Hewitt

Bubba Sawyer

Brahms Heelshire

Erik ("The Phantom")

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC slasher)

Kathleen Montgomery (OC slasher)

Masterlist

***

Bo Sinclair

Despite being autistic, Bo is very in tune with peoples auras and body language. He has to be to manipulate and deceive people with any modicum of success. He's trained himself when it comes to these things; even besides masking or manipulation, he needed to be keenly aware of when his parents were in Bad Moods so he could either avoid them or prepare himself.

The mood he's probably best at when it comes to this, for those reasons, is anger. He can smell anger a mile away. So if you're fuming, you better believe he notices.

At first he's annoyed and will demand to know what your problem is. He's not a very tolerant person, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. He's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but when it comes to others having big, messy feelings ... he's not so comfortable with that. He gets overwhelmed.

Once he realizes that this is more than an attitude problem, he'll take it much more seriously. And assuming you're not mad at him, he'll want the rundown on the whole situation from beginning to end. He wants all the dirt.

He'll let you rant, and honestly, he'd think you being this angry (when it's not directed at him, but even still sometimes) is kind of sexy. And don't expect him to shut his mouth, either; he'll be ranting right along with you, affirming you and insulting whomever/whatever you're angry about.

He doesn't wanna cuddle. He genuinely thinks you can't cuddle anger away. He'll put on some loud-ass music and let you vent your frustration however you prefer. Maybe suggest a long drive down to the lake or into town or just ... picking a direction and going. He has fantasies of running away from his anger sometimes. He knows how it is.

Depending on what you're angry about, it could definitely get to the point where he's angrier about the situation than you are. And if it really hurt you, he will not let it go as long as he lives. The best he will ever do is maintain a grudging neutrality or distance from the person/situation that made you angry.

He's very protective. If you're angry at someone you need to maintain a relationship with, you're going to have to keep an eye on Bo to make sure he doesn't deliver revenge for you behind your back. If it's something he can solve, he'll do it, so if you don't want him running his mouth, watch him.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is in the same boat as Bo when it comes to sensing auras, though his handle on body language and facial expressions is not as keenly honed. While Vincent was not physically abused as brutally or as often as Bo, this wasn't because of some sterling quality he had that Bo lacked. He was always The Good One because he saw what his parents did to The Bad One and knew he needed to protect himself. He tried not to do anything that might provoke his parents.

You can feel anger before a fight like you smell ozone before a storm. Vincent is attuned to the feeling not just because of his parents but because of Bo's temper, too. Because of this, like Bo, he can very accurately sense anger in particular.

His initial reaction is to observe you, gauging if you need time to cool off. If you need space, Vincent is the Sinclair for you. He's used to being quiet and deflecting and riding out anger.

However, once he realizes that your anger is not directed at him or isn't explosive enough to become a problem for him, he's concerned. Rather than asking what happened, he will ask if you're okay, and leave it up to you whether you'll tell him about it or not.

If you vent, he'll sit and listen patiently, maybe even thoughtfully working on a sculpture while you rant. He's not judgemental and he can be very emotional himself, so you could say the most ridiculous, dramatic things and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Let out all your messy, destructive thoughts and feelings. Just try not to throw or punch anything; that's when he shuts down.

If you decide you just want comfort, or decide you need comfort after ranting, art is his first suggestion. It may seem cold to you at first, that his instinct isn't to hold you or kiss you but rather to redirect you to a project - once you got to know him, however, you'd know that's his most genuine way to show he cares. Redirecting to something creative calms him down more than platitudes ever could, and he wants that for you. He's nonjudgmental about the art you create as well, even if it's objectively terrible. It's not about the quality.

He won't turn you down if you need physical affection, however. His twin is extremely tactile, so it wouldn't be the first time he held someone after a breakdown. He prefers to do this if he's certain you won't lash out physically, but if you were in a really bad way and needed to be touched, he'd do it regardless.

Lester Sinclair

Lester witnessed his parents' anger, but it was usually indirectly; if Bo was the Bad One and Vincent was the Good One, he was the Overlooked One. He's not a perfect person, probably not even a good person, but of the three brothers, he's the most normally socialized. He isn't trained to be tuned into everyone's every shifting mood in order to survive.

It takes Lester a little longer to pick up on your anger than his brothers, but not too much longer. It takes him a couple tries at trying to talk to you or get your attention before he realizes something is really wrong.

His first reaction is to get upset. He soaks up emotions like a little sponge, so he's suddenly cranky, too. He also jumps to conclusions and assumes that you're angry with him, and he does not take rejection well. He might be bitter and passive aggressive. You being angry just makes him want to go in another room and not be around you, and yet at the same time, he wants your reassurances. It's messy and sad.

Once he realizes - either through observing you or through you communicating with him - that you're mad at another person or situation, then he'll feel comfortable enough to approach you and ask you about it. You'll definitely need to reassure him that you're not mad at him though.

If you wanna rant, he'll take you on a long drive and let you vent your heart out to him. He won't be quite as aggressive as Bo, but he'll be on your side, frowning with disapproval, telling you "Ya can't fix stupid." If you want only comfort or need comfort after venting, he feels much more equipped for that. He'll put something relaxing in the VHS or let you play his old Super Nintendo, get you a beer, just let you chill out. And he'll let you win at Doctor Mario.

If the situation is something really serious, you best believe he'll be talking to his brothers about it the second he gets a chance. He may be a sweet guy, but he can be real nasty, and he doesn't fuck around when it comes to you. You might have to keep an eye out to make sure he doesn't tell someone off or punch out someone's lights.

Michael Myers (OG)

In 1978, Michael is not very in tune with any emotions besides fear, and even then he only really understands it in an abstract way, as his condition and upbringing haven't really been conducive to him learning about emotions. Unless you're screaming in terror, have tears running down your face, or are shouting angrily, he really can't read your moods. Without any obvious change to how you normally act or look, there's a huge chance he might just not notice if you're angry. He spends a lot of time in his own little world.

In 2018, even though he's spent over 50 years institutionalized, Michael has had time to take in the world, and he's seen a lot more. He understands fear much more than he did when he was 21, but what he understands most of all is anger. His anger fuels him. He would pick up on yours right away and be curious, though he wouldn't verbalize it.

If you tell him how you feel, he'll take note of it. If he witnesses you doing something destructive because of your anger, he'll simply observe. He would be fascinated with this thing you're doing, because it's not something you normally do, and though he might not notice emotions, he certainly notices routine and pattern. Either way, you'll have to tell him how you feel, because he'll simply watch you otherwise.

One thing that can be said for Michael is that he's a good listener. He may not internalize everything you say, but he will remember what he thinks is important. You may be surprised; he may remember tiny little details that seem inconsequential to you but loom large in his mind.

Unless you were caused serious physical or mental harm, he would not be angry on your behalf. He would, however, do nothing to assuage your anger. He thinks it would be kinda neat and interesting to see you snap. He's not 100% sure why you don't just do it.

In 1978, he won't be much help beyond listening to you, but he would be curious to see what you do to vent your anger. You may find him by your side more often, observing you. He may also want to find and observe the object of your anger, especially if it's a person. In 2018, he would, in his own way, suggest you solve the problem by murdering someone/something. He's insatiable, but killing is the closest he's ever come to satisfaction. You should try it.

Jason Voorhees

Out of all of the slashers, Jason is the most likely to actually literally sense your anger, especially if you're psychically sensitive/powerful like Tina Shepard. I'm talkin'—assuming you have a pre-established relationship—he'll be doing something else and just get this itch that tells him you're out there somewhere, pissed off.

Obviously this is untenable. As long as he's not super busy or Pamela has other plans, Jason will stomp his way through the woods to get back to you, regardless of the urgency of your anger. If Pamela doesn't approve, well, he'll let a little anger go and assume you're okay. If he suspects you may be in danger, though, he's sprinting regardless of what Mom says. There's time for both things, Ma!

The first thing he'll do when he returns to you is scan your dwelling, then you, making sure nothing is broken. At that point, you'd probably be able to sense his confusion even without him signing. Jason doesn't experience emotions quite like a human anymore, and he's quite tactile besides, so a lack of tangible or visible clues as to why you're upset would trip him up for a second.

He doesn't want to comfort you at first, he wants to know what's wrong. He'll listen to you vent only long enough to understand the situation and identify his target. His immediate next move would be to eliminate the problem. You'll definitely have to hold him back, and it may take a bit of convincing. Earthly consequences don't really apply to him.

Before comfort comes blowing off steam, for you and for him. His first choices would be mangling some trees (you can pretend it's for firewood) or skipping/throwing stones into the lake. You're welcome to join him if those things calm you down; watching him get his stone to skip like 11 times on Crystal Lake may make you feel better, at least.

You might hang out there for hours before he suddenly decides it's time to go home. He'll do what he can to make your comfortable or stay out of your way while you make yourself comfortable, then comfort you as you please. His go-to choice is always foot or hand massages.

Leslie Vernon

Leslie is extremely observant and surprisingly analytical given how silly he is in the day to day. His intuition makes it pretty easy for him to read people, but especially you, since you two are so close. Especially-especially if you're his Survivor Girl (gender neutral term of course). You two are in sync, so he knows if something's up. Maybe even before you fully figure it out.

God, you're so hot when you're angry, you really are. He almost wants to let you scream and holler and go nuts. But he prefers you only get angry like that at him, especially if you're his Survivor Girl, so his first move is to comfort you or talk you down to a place where you can be comforted. He'll speak to you calmly and rationally, reassuring you and touching you if you wanna be touched—on your upper arms or shoulders or face, or with one arm around your back.

He doesn't just want to comfort you, though, he wants to calm you down enough that you can tell him what happened. Even if you claim you don't want to talk about it, he will coax it out of you eventually. He's gotta know what got you so upset. It's his business to know everything about you!

Assuming you're angry at someone/something that isn't him, he'll talk it through with you. If you're upset about an argument with someone, he has the capacity to see it from the other side, but ultimately, he's there for you. He'll let you bitch as much as you want, still touching you, and he'll be disgusted and/or disappointed with the situation.

Above all, though, what he wants is to see you smile again. The only worries on your mind should be the ones he comes up with, and man, he's not even halfway done grooming the next batch of unlucky teenagers. He'd pat your face or touch your hair and tell you to cheer up, and probably defuse the situation with a stupid quip or joke. Take you out somewhere fun, maybe.

Once you were cheered up, he'd humbly suggest you solve your problem with a little murder. "I mean, I know killing's not really your thing—you're really good at it, though, a talent! You know that..." Pause, considering you. "You want me to do it? 'Cause I can clear my schedule for the rest of the night." If you decline, he'd be like "Suit yourself" but may or may not still murder whoever upset you. If you agree, he'd be super excited to make a romantic night of it. His mind would be going a million miles an hour planning everything out.

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy knows anger when he sees it. Not only does he have loads of internalized anger, he's been on the receiving end of it plenty. He's far too large to be scared of anyone in a physical sense anymore, but he's been shouted at countless times. To know when to shut up and do as he's told versus arguing back, he's learned to gauge intensity and direction of anger, and he well knows that anger can be redirected to him.

So, he instantly recognizes your mood, but it might be a while before he approaches you. When he does approach, he'll let you decide what to do, whether that's throwing your arms around him or banging your fists on his chest to vent your anger. You won't hurt him.

Eventually, once you're all hugged or cried or screamed out, he'll wrap his arms around you and give you a reassuring squeeze. There's no need to tell Tommy what's wrong—he won't ask unless you're obviously in serious distress or injured—but if you decide to speak, he'll listen, brows drawn tightly the whole time. He's thoughtful about the situation.

If you're mad at someone in his family, there isn't much he can do for you besides comfort you and assure you that whoever upset you—Hoyt, probably—didn't mean what they said. If you were hurt physically, it would be another story, but his family gets in shouting matches all the time.

Rather than offering help, he'd wait for you to request it of him. Whatever you ask, shy of hurting his family, he will do. Murder someone? No problem. Make you some food? You got it. Bring you a blanket? Sure. Give you some quiet alone time? That's fine, too.

If you need to vent, he's got plenty of ways to get out your frustration. Plenty of farm work to do, or you could work on something around the house with him. He might suggest knitting or sewing or some other handicraft you enjoy. It always makes him feel better to buckle down and use his hands for something.

If you're still preoccupied/upset by the time you two bed down, or heaven forbid the next morning, then he starts taking it more seriously. Something that disturbs you for that long is bad news. He'll watch you carefully the next couple days to see how you're doing, waiting for you to need him for something.

Bubba Sawyer

Like Tommy, Bubba has been on the receiving end of anger many, many times, so he's familiar with what it looks and feels like. Despite his size, he's still susceptible to physical violence at the hands of his loved ones, so he's very wary of anger.

However, he doesn't have a female presence in his life like Luda Mae, who expresses her anger through passive aggression—so, he's more used to shouting and screaming. If you aren't prone to screaming and shouting, it might take a little bit for him to realize you're not just sad or upset, you're angry.

Bubba will be over you. He'd give anyone else their space because he'd be afraid of retaliation, but you're his special person, and he's pretty sure you're not going to hurt him. He'll touch your hair, your arms, your wrists; he'll babble as he tries to figure out what's wrong. He just wants to comfort you and let you know everything is all right.

If it's too much or you're overwhelmed and you snap at him, he'll ease back. He'll blubber like a kicked puppy, but he won't give up. He'll still try to comfort you, just in other ways, such as getting you a comfort item or article of clothing, or maybe some food. And boy will he helicopter.

There's no need to tell Bubba what's wrong. In fact, it might be better if you didn't; if it's something he can't fix, it would do nothing but majorly stress him out. If it was one of his family members who upset you, as with Tommy, he wouldn't be able to do much. Even if you were hurt, he's just not in a position to stand up for you. That fact would absolutely kill him, though. He'd end up getting even more upset than you.

He doesn't know what help to offer you beyond comfort, but like Tommy, if you requested something specific, he'd try to carry out your wishes. He'll also try to cheer you up with some music and dancing, or just being silly like you like.

Need to blow off steam? He's got plenty of coping mechanisms! Bubba's idea of a perfect de-stress session is turning up the radio and getting lost in crafts. He's got lots of supplies, mostly to create clothing and accessories, and you're special, so you can have your pick. A drive and the radio might be nice, too. If neither of those appeal to you, he'll try cooking or baking with you. He loves sharing the kitchen with someone.

If none of that works and you're still upset, be prepared, because he's gonna be an anxious mess until you're better.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is somewhat familiar with other people's anger. He certainly has a whole fountain of internalized anger brewing just beneath the surface, but that's different. He knows that when Mummy is angry, she yells and cries, and when Daddy is angry, he seethes and stews. The former would be obvious to him, but the latter would take him a few minutes to be quite sure about. You're not acting how you usually do. Are you being stern or are you angry? Are you cross with him?

He does not have a lot of empathy for other people, so if your anger gets in the way of his routine or the attention he wants, he'll be irked, cranky, sad. Not necessarily at you—though that is possible—but the situation in which you find yourselves.

Much like Bo, he's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but it makes him uncomfortable and scared when other people have those feelings. He might even hide from you for a while, especially if you screamed and cried.

Once he realizes something is really wrong and you're not mad at him, however, he'll start thinking of ways to cheer you up so things can go back to normal. He hates having his routine interrupted; he's very particular. And he cares for you, so seeing you in distress is very scary and uncomfortable for him.

He'll start by fetching you something you like—something manageable for him like your favorite juice or a sandwich, or if you have a special item or article of clothing, that. He's quite shy, though, and like I said, he'll probably be hiding, so he'll leave it somewhere he knows you'll find it (on the bed, outside your door, on your desk, etc.)

If that doesn't calm you down and your anger is really getting in the way of his routine, or otherwise making him uncomfortable, he'll finally make an appearance. Very bashful and timid at first, using his little boy voice. "What's wrong, Y/N? Did something bad happen?"

If it's something that can't be helped, he'll suggest you do something together to take your mind off it (most likely something he likes to do). He may even be coaxed into taking a walk around the grounds, though he doesn't like to leave the manor at all, so you'd have to convince him. He prefers quiet playtime, maybe some coloring books or loud music to vent your emotions. It would intrigue him to see someone else use his toys to calm down. As long as you recognized he was being very nice, sharing them.

If it was an argument you had with someone, he would want more information. Are they likely to leave you alone, or will they come to the manor? Will he have to deal with them? Because it's scary, but he'll do it for you.

If, for some reason, none of those things work, he may cry or throw a fit. Either way, he'll be frustrated. Adult Brahms may make an appearance and try to help you in more Adult ways.

Erik

Though he lives five cellars beneath an opera house now, Erik hasn't always been entirely reclusive. Even these days, when he can stomach it, he sometimes goes out to see the world. As a younger man, he observed people's lives and moods with a hungry fascination (that has now mostly been replaced by melancholy and longing and bitter anger). Like several of the other slashers here, he's had to train himself to sense fury to protect himself. He's also incredibly wrathful, so you could call him an expert!

He has a very keenly honed sense when it comes to you specifically, since he's watched you so much. He notices the change in your demeanor immediately.

If you know him as the "Angel of Music," his voice will appear to you once you're alone, asking you what's wrong and assuring you you can confide in him—he will insist you tell him, though. "There are to be no secrets between us, Y/N." He will listen without interjection as you vent your heart out, and when you're done, soothe you. Don't let his calming voice deceive you, though; behind that mirror, he's seething, planning to take matters into his own hands.

If you know him as Erik, he will go to you the second he recognizes the shift in your mood and take you from what you're doing, regardless of your wishes. He'll sit you down, kneeling before you with your hands in his, and gaze into your eyes, imploring you to tell him what's wrong. He'll absolutely allow you physical comfort, but he will also absolutely insist you tell. He'll need reassurance that you're not angry at him, because that thought would break his heart.

He will let you vent however you wish. You could have the most dramatic breakdown ever—throwing things, beating your fists on his chest, wailing—and he wouldn't judge you. He would be awfully concerned, though.

Will be 110% on your side. You are his poor little meow meow. "My poor love, my poor Y/N!" He is beside himself with sympathy for you and you only, and is very offended on your behalf.

He will always suggest music as an outlet for your anger, but he will have taken note of your other hobbies and interests as well. He'll fetch your things for you without being asked, as long as it won't separate him from you for very long. If you'd rather just have comfort, that's fine, too. He could hold your hand and caress your face for hours on end under normal circumstances, so no problem there. He may also suggest a little time on the surface, if you normally live in his home. Fresh air will do you both good, he reasons, and he enjoys spending time with you where others can witness it. It fills him with pride and love.

Otherwise, he's at your service for any other soothing activities you need. A calming bath, some sweets, shopping, anything. Perhaps avoid asking for any sexual contact, however. First of all, being asked directly makes him very skittish and nervous; second of all, his method of love-making (when you can coax him) is very intimate and tender, which may be tedious if you're in an angry mood.

Unless the situation is extremely serious or dire, his first priority is making sure you're soothed. Once that duty is fulfilled, however, he is absolutely angrier about it than you are. If it's not that serious, he won't skip straight to killing, if only because he knows it upsets you. He will definitely be writing an extremely strongly worded letter, however. If someone slighted you seriously, they're getting threatened. If someone hurt you physically, they're meeting the Punjab lasso.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Deacon definitely knows when people are angry. His step-mom was a passive-aggressive laundry-folder and his dad was a storming out of the house kinda guy; when the two of them were together, they were all hushed but heated arguments at night when they thought he couldn't hear them, or else extremely embarrassing passive-aggressive arguments in public. Growing up, he found himself around a lot of angry people. And there's no shortage of anger in him, either.

So yeah, Deacon knows when people are pissed, and he knows when people are pissed at him. The thing is, he just thinks it's fucking hilarious. He was that kid that would goad peers and teachers just to be an asshole and had virtually no friends as a result. He's a menace on the internet, too: a horrible troll for no reason, stirring the pot even when he doesn't have a stake in the argument. He's trained himself to find people's weak spots so he can strike at them. He does it to make himself feel more in control of his life and his own anger.

So when you're ticked off, he's gonna notice the change immediately. If you made a vent post on social media, he probably knows you're angry before you even see him. He follows all your social media (even if you don't realize it) and checks it constantly. He'd call you out of curiosity to ask what happened. He's open about his stalking tendencies: "I saw your post, babe, who do I need to stab?"

If you otherwise come home angry, he'll be up on his feet, following you around the house and pestering you, trying to get you to tell him what's wrong. If you try to hug him, he won't push you away, but he'll be distracted, trying to needle answers out of you the whole time.

There's no question in his mind as to whether or not you're angry at him. He just assumes you're not; he has a pretty good handle on how you act when you're angry at him specifically.

He'll let you rant all day if you want. You could talk about the shit that's pissed you off for hours and he'd still listen. Outwardly, he might poke you a bit and play devil's advocate for the other side of the argument, if there is one. This is purely for the purposes of being a little shit.

Internally, he's already going down his pre-murder checklist. If it was someone at work, they're dead. Someone in the neighborhood, dead. Online? It'll take a couple days, but they're dead. Even if you're not angry at anyone in particular, just a situation, he'll find someone to menace. He'd walk through fire for your approval.

He's not good with soft, emotional comfort, so instead he'll try to think of something to help you let off steam. His go-to is something competitive, especially if it involves you chasing each other. A Nerf or water gun war, a PVP game with you on opposite sides. He'll put up a good fight, but you always kick his ass.

Once the immediate situation is addressed and you've ranted your heart out to him, he can't keep his hands off you. "Seeing you all pissed off drives me crazyyyyyy." He's grinning, brown eyes sparkling. "Come onnnnn ... I'll get it off your mind!"

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC)

Courtney is a hunter of all manner of game, so he's used to interpreting non-verbal cues and body language—when an animal is in distress, when an animal is about to attack, etc. His grandfather was a very angry man, as well, in a simmering sort of way. He would seethe about something before suddenly delivering one decisive strike. Courtney himself is not a particularly angry man, unless some prey is really giving him a hard time, but he can read your body.

If you come home angry, he'll stop in the middle of what he's doing and watch you, still and quiet, just confirming his suspicions. If you leave the room he's in to go collapse on the sofa or something, he'll follow you, looming over you and waiting for you to tell him what's wrong. He's patient.

If you want to vent, he'll sit and listen thoughtfully, doing something with his hands while you speak—probably cleaning his gun or some other weapon. He doesn't look at you. He wouldn't demand greater context to the situation but he would ask "Why?" and "Who?" until he understood Enough.

If you want comfort, he'll sprawl on the couch and let you lay on top of him. He'll probably pull a blanket on top of you to try and encourage a nap. If the nap doesn't make you feel better, he's feeding you protein. Do you like homemade jerky?

Sex is also on the table (not literally ... unless). He's found it's a great way to blow off steam, and he's more than happy to make all worries, troubles, and other thoughts go away for a little bit. Expect that to be the rest of your night, though, because he doesn't do quickies.

Generally, he trusts you to handle your own shit, so he would be more focused on you than whatever made you feel the way you do. However, if days passed and you were still angry/upset/sad, or if it plunged you into a breakdown or was an otherwise extremely serious situation ... just give him a target. It's up to you, but if you tell him to take the shot, it'll be quick and clean. If you're unable to make the decision, he'll decide for you without hesitation.

Kathleen Montgomery (OC)

I'm still developing her so this one won't be as in-depth and is subject to change.

Kath makes it her business to know everything about you. Chances are she's seen you explode screaming while stalking you ... chances are, if you've been in a relationship for a while, she's made you explode screaming. She knows what you look like when you're angry. Besides, she's strong for her size, but she often has to take down people who are much bigger and stronger than her; she uses manipulation and trickery to help ease that divide, so she's good at reading people.

Like Deacon, she also monitors all your social media, so if you made a vent post, she already knows you're in a shitty mood before you come home. Unlike Deacon, she doesn't tell you how she knows, so you're left to assume she's just all knowing. Considering her god complex, that works for her.

She'd probably text you to come home, and she expects you to answer. If you're unable to come home, she'll call you to ask what's wrong.

Once you're together, she wants to know everything about the situation. Even as you're speaking, she's already on her phone or laptop, looking up the people involved. Instead of getting mad on your behalf, she laughs. She's a fan of emphasizing how pathetic or weak the opposition is.

She takes your feelings on the subject seriously, but everyone else in the situation? Insects. Not even worthy of your time or concern, let alone hers. You're obviously in the right here (even if you're not). She'll tell you as much, and say some pretty intense, over-the-line things about whomever/whatever you're angry at.

Overall, however, she's calm and collected about the situation. Your bout of anger is a chance to get you to be reckless with her. She'll do your hair and makeup and dress you up nice, then take you out. Fast driving, drinking, baiting people at bars, menacing neighborhoods ... maybe a little killing, if you'd like.

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Masterlist

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