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#bc you know they have a ton of props
pezberrypolls · 1 month
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saltymongoose · 10 months
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ohh my goodness. i've been waiting to send these until requests were open bc i wanted to hear ur thoughts.
might be a little silly, but consider: matching outfits. player gathers clothing materials!! and coordinates outfits one day on missions!!!! even makes props!!! hijinks ensue. idk if this had already been disscussed before, but thank you for your time and consideration, ily. you are so cool <<3333!!!!!!! everything you make is so scrumptious!!!!! <33
Omg, thank you, this is so nice of you!!! :D ❤❤❤❤ I love this art so much, you have no idea - the way you portray the boys here fits so well (as always lol). And the memes too omg!! I can't even put it into words to be honest with you, these are just excellent. I do feel slightly bad for that random grunt though, something tells me they'll be sleeping with one eye open after seeing that lmao.
(Also, thank you so much for the compliments too of course, you're far too kind. (˶⸃ ⴰ⸃˶)♡ I could say the same to you btw; your art is always just *chef's kiss* perfection.)
Anyhow, I've actually thought a bit about this scenario before, but this just inspired me, so I wrote some short hcs for you. Hope you like them! <3:
The Player Matches Outfits with Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned
(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)
- [2BDAMNED] -
2BDamned knew that you had been working on a little project - one that you tried to keep as secret as possible. He was curious, but not enough to encroach on whatever boundary you set regarding it. All he knew from your rather lackadaisical explanation was that he'd be very surprised when he saw. And, well, he was.
The first conscious thought in 2BDamned's head is the question of how you've managed to make a mask that looks so similar to his without borrowing the original. It's really spot on; the seams are in the exact same place, and even if yours has to have been configured differently to fit your more human facial features, the silhouette is exactly the same.
(In the end, he concludes that you simply must've studied his appearance for a while to truly replicate his mask, which makes him feel almost giddy in a way he might've deemed embarrassing before meeting you. But now he's just overcome with happiness that you were obviously interested enough in him to do this.)
He openly praises your skill in sewing, knowing that grunt clothing is ordinarily much too large for you. And you'd notice how the fondness he holds for you seeps into the words, his gaze lingering on you in a way that left you feeling warm.
If you could see underneath his own mask, you'd be able to see the smile he was unable to bite back as well, and the flush that he'd try to will away otherwise. And while he is incredibly impressed (and happy) at what you've managed to put together, he will mention that you could also borrow his actual things once in a while, if you feel so inclined. He just happens to think one of his own jackets might suit you too.
(Of course, he doesn't miss the chance to lean real close to adjust your mask as he says this either, just to fluster you even more. You really have no idea how cute you are, especially looking like this.)
- [DEIMOS] -
A full minute of unintelligible sputtering leaves Deimos' lips the moment he sees your new outfit, and you laugh at the way his face goes bright red. When you said you had a surprise, this was one of the last things he expected.
Luckily for him, he's able to quickly gather his composure, and his excited ramblings turn into smooth flirts that'll leave you blushing instead of him. Expect all sorts of comments about how cute you looked dressed up like him, and praises about how you look even better in his fit than he does.
He insists on taking a ton of pictures together, and you can bet he keeps his favorite in his wallet. (It's one of your faces smushed together as you both grin at the camera, making a heart with your hands.)
He considers this a total power-couple thing; matching shirts are so low-effort compared to this, if anything it shows you perfect you are together. Although there is one thing he'd help you change from your original DIY version of his outfit - those sheet-metal dog tags you made can't compare to the real thing in his opinion, so why don't you just use one of his instead?
Also, don't think he won't take advantage of the fact that you both are the only ones with headsets. Even if yours isn't functioning (because let's be honest, finding one in working condition would be difficult), he'll fix it up quickly just so he can talk more directly to you during missions. And whenever else he wants to, to the irritation of the other three.
- [SANFORD] -
Sanford would consider his outfit to be fairly standard, but he recognized that you were emulating him the moment you slid the sunglasses on. And he couldn't stop the goofy smile from splitting his face when he realized it either, not even attempting to hide his amusement at what you've done.
(He only gets visibly happier when you 'threateningly' brandish your wire hook in his direction. You really put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?)
While Sanford has the amount of restraint in him to not openly brag about you doing this, he can't deny the rush of satisfaction he gets from seeing you in what is an unmistakable homage to him. If you look closely, you'll see him straighten up in pride whenever you come into view. (It's almost like preening, really. If he weren't so flushed, perhaps you'd think it to be more of an ego thing, but no.)
Although, he does show a little bit more concern about some aspects of your outfit. Like your boots, for example; he can't count the number of times he's gotten blisters while breaking in his own, so you should expect him to ask you if you need any plasters (or help bandaging yourself as well).
(If you decide to accept his offer, you'll find yourself questioning whether he ever officially trained as a medic before. He surely has the gentleness befitting of one, shown in how he carefully cleans your wounds and softly applies the ointment, his calloused fingers gently smoothing over the plasters on your Achilles heels afterward. Although you have the slightest suspicion that this tenderness from him is known only to you.)
Sanford will also make it part of his routine to pluck your glasses from your nose and clean them after he does his own. Afterward, he'll slowly lean in when he places them back on you to make sure he doesn't poke you in the eye. Neither of you mention that you could do it yourself, or that his decision to slide them back onto the bridge of your nose himself was highly unnecessary. Maybe he just does it to get a better look at the way you blink up at him and blush, or perhaps it's for some other reason, who's to say? Either way, you have no complaints.
- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -
Your laughs are muffled under Hank's hands as he cups your face, tilting it up to look closely at you. His excitement at your new look is almost palpable; you can easily tell from how he's shaking and hurriedly looking over, his gaze never stopping on one spot for longer than a second. He just wants to take in everything about your new look, is all.
He'll almost insist on doing a mission with you wearing it, not only because the idea sounds fun to him (with his love of carnage and all), but also because it provides an excellent opportunity to rub in everyone else's faces that you chose to copy his outfit. Not theirs.
In a way, he also becomes just a tad more doting than usual. He busies himself with dusting you off, and adjusting your goggles and the lapels of your coat whenever another skirmish is finished. It's his way of checking you over and making sure your hard work wasn't damaged either.
(Plus, he'd hate it if this instance of you copying him was cut short because of some worthless grunts' attempts at harming you.)
You'll catch him sticking closer to you than usual too, and he does so for multiple reasons. First is that he just prefers to be near you whenever he can anyway (the warmth of your presence is one of his favorite things, and it gives ample opportunity to show off around you), but now there's also the fact that your outfit will freak out your enemies. As you can imagine, he enjoys that immensely, and what better way to improve this experience than to have his Player join him?
In a way, Hank also sees this as a sort of 'claim' you've put on yourself too. Wearing your significant other's clothing is kind of a thing with some grunts, and while he knows they aren't really his clothes, there's still some of that same sentiment there that makes him purr just a bit louder whenever he sees you in that new outfit of yours. It tells the world you're his in some way, even if not officially. So why wouldn't he be happy about that?
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playingdxngerous · 7 months
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Extra Credit
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Word Count: 2.2k
Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!
Warnings: spencer reid smut, praise kink, hand kink if you squint hard enough, age gap (teacher and college student), digital penetration, oral f! receiving, angst bc the beginning is kinda sad ig, happy ending, just a ton of praise basically, also i didn't proofread so probably some mistakes here and there
~For my delusional girls, like me~
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"So, for homework I just need you to read the next 5 chapters and write me a summary. Tell me how this relates to transcendentalism in literature. Don't forget to use the study guide from this previous test." Professor Reid says as he walks across the room, handing out the graded tests. He gets up to your table and quickly flips your paper over as he hands it to you. You know it must be bad if he hides the score from your peers. You turn it around to see a circled 47 with the words "u ok?" written next to it. You look up and he's completely across the classroom, continuing on his rant about the homework. Still, he is looking right at you. How does he know?
Your mind traces back to the night before. You're on the phone with your boyfriend in the process of being broken up with. Followed by, of course, your parents fight growing louder and louder within the walls. You look out your door and see them yelling at each other, throwing their hands in the air after every sentence. Last night was not a good night, especially since you had to spend almost all night studying for the test you just failed. A score of 47. How?
The class continues on like normal for the next 30ish minutes. Each tick on the clock is just another second you must force your tears to stay in.
"Okay just don't forget that homework guys. It's really important that you know this for the final." His voice comes back into focus. He dismisses the class. People start to trample over you as you put your stuff into your bag, crumbling the test. Professor Reid walks up to you, propped up against the table with his hands. "Mind to see me for a sec?" He asks concerned.
"Look, if it's about the test I'm sorry. It was just some careless mistakes and I won't ever do it again. I'm okay." You say as he guides you to his desk. Once again he leans against the table to get to your height. His suit stretches out with his arm, his button up shirt and tie becoming more visible.
"I know it wasn't just some careless mistakes. You're usually a straight A student. You've never gotten below a 90 on one of my tests."
"I was just being dumb, I'm sorry." You look down in unexplainable guilt.
"Don't say that about yourself, you're such a smart girl," he requests. Your stomach drops at his validation.
You try to laugh it off, "You're really overestimating me right now Mr. Reid."
"You think I don't notice when something is wrong? I know you and I know you aren't just being dumb. Talk to me." He says, ready to listen.
"I didn't know you paid that much attention to me." Your eyebrows furrow.
"I do," he grows quieter, "Noticed you weren't sitting with your boyfriend today too."
"How did you even know we were together?" You puzzle.
"How could I not?" He gasps with a smile. "It's kind of obvious you know. The way you look at him and all."
He really does pay attention.
"He broke up with me last night. Cheated on me too."
"I'm so sorry, I wish I could make it better. It's really seeming to affect your mental health right now." He responds concerned.
"Yeah, it's whatever. It's not just him being a problem right now so I don't really care. If anything, I'm just numb."
"It's not the group of girls beside you, is it?" His voice speeds up with a higher pitch. "I will fix it immediately if you ask me to."
"No, it's just my parents and stuff at home." Tears sting in your eyes.
"Is there something I can do?" He inquires.
"Extra credit maybe?" You shrug.
"I can do that. What do you have in mind?"
"I don't know just-" your voice breaks off as a tear falls out. "I'm just really stressed right now.” You wipe away the teardrop, yet more start to join it. He brings his hand up, curling his index finger to wipe the preceding drops. With no thoughts in your head, you accidentally lean in and cradle him into a hug. He allows it, wrapping his arms right above your waist. Seconds go by until you realize what you’re doing.
"I'm so sorry. Oh my god, why did I do that?" You pull away rapidly.
"Hey," he grabs your arm, "I don't mind. You can come to me for anything." He catches your eyes with his soft gaze, taking away any sadness left in you.
"So extra credit?" You clear your throat.
"Yeah um," he snaps out of it, physically shaking his head. "Just don't worry about it okay?"
"Are you sure sir?"
"Yeah." He gulps. "And the homework too."
You hug him again and he grabs your hair, massaging into your scalp. You squeeze tighter, never wanting to let your teacher go. This hug has been better than anything your ex boyfriend or parents have ever provided.
Like a scene out of a movie, he leans down and kisses the crown of your head. Tears once again stream down your cheeks at his loving touch, drying up as they fall onto his button up shirt.
You pull your head away to look at him, nothing but softness in his eyes. You place your hand on his cheek, feeling his slight stubble in your palm.
"Kiss me?" He asks in a hoarse whisper. In what feels like ages, you both unconsciously lean into each other. Slow and steady. His lips fit perfectly against yours. Your heart skips a beat.
The thought of him being your teacher rings through your head, making you pull away out of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Hey stop, it's okay." He assures.
"This is so wrong. You probably didn't want that and only kissed back because you feel bad for me." You cry out.
"You know we both enjoyed it. Plus, I'm the one that asked for it to begin with." He assures.
He's right. You did enjoy it. More than you probably should have. It got your mind off everything else.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Reid." Feeling like a crybaby, your eyes drown your face once more.
"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay." He says almost unintelligibly fast.
He begins to kiss your head all over, letting his lips fall randomly along you. He moves to your forehead, then trails down to your neck. You instinctively grab his hair and let him continue. He makes it back to your lips and you sloppily return the favor. Each second you grow hotter. A slight whimper escapes your lips as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of the two of you combines, the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. His tongue slow dances with yours and he warm breaths begin to escalate onto you as he pulls away. His eyes remain closed even when not on your lips. He shortly returns, faster than ever. Passion floods the both of you. It flies in the air, warming up the world around you.
His hands find your waist, which he grabs to pull you closer. Friction rises in you below your skirt, so you squeeze your legs together to release it. This does little to no help, as the way he devours your lips turns you on more than ever. He grabs your right leg and hoists it over his hip. With the skirt being pushed up from this action, you begin to grind against his crotch with only your underwear and his slacks in between.
You then follow up with the other leg. He places his hands behind your thighs, his strong arms growing in size as he holds all of your weight up. You grab his biceps and squeeze. You’ve never imagined yourself admiring your teacher from so close, but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
He places you on his desk, pushing random papers and pens aside. With your knees up, your skirt slowly slides down your thighs. He has no other choice but to look you up and down with his starving eyes.
"Still up for that extra credit?" He smirks and bites his lip.
"Been dreaming of it forever Reid."
"Are we forgetting that I'm still your teacher even when you beg me to fuck you? It's sir." He squeezes your thighs.
"Okay sir," you say sarcastically. "Why don't you get on with it then. Make me forget all about my ex you were probably so jealous of."
"Stay quiet for me like a good girl and maybe we won't get caught, how about that?" He pulls your head up by your chin.
"You just don't want to admit it." You say right before he collides his lips with yours for the millionth time.
"You just really want that 47% to stay huh?" He laughs.
"No! Please Mr. Reid, I've wanted you forever. Please just give it to me already."
"So needy!" He replies in a high pitched voice. After a small peck on your lips he makes his way down your body with his hands. He takes extra long on your tits, making sure to cause your stomach knot to tangle even more. You shiver at the touch, so ready to let your orgasm go. Your legs straighten out and dangle off the desk.
He moves his attention to this, changing the direction of his body. He grabs your hand and kisses it, dropping it as he begins to kiss up your leg. Starting at the knee, he makes his way slowly up to where the fabric of your skirt ends at the top of your thigh. He nudges it up with his hands, feeling around your waist.
"You're being such a good girl for me." He looks up at you without moving his head too much. His half lidded puppy dog eyes stare into yours. "Such a good girl. Legs all spread, dripping wet for me. So perfect. My princess." You struggle to find ways to respond as you are completely taken aback by his loving praise.
"Please, I need you." You blurt out.
"What do you need my love?"
"You. Everything."
"So, you want me to take these off I assume?" He teases as he tugs at your panties.
"Please!" You yell from overstimulation.
"Hey quiet remember?" He swallows hard before going back to where he was. Slowly, he pulls them down. "Holy shit you are soaked." You love the cussing side of your teacher more than you probably should.
"I want you so bad baby," you beg.
"I'm right here. I will give you whatever you want. You deserve it, princess." He leans forward as he speaks, slowly reaching his mouth to your wet cunt. His tongue moves in circles around your clit, not yet touching it. This man will be the death of you.
He slides his tongue back and forth, then licks a long strip up your pussy. His speed increases as he flicks his tongue back and forth. Moans seep out of you and him, creating music. As he flattens his tongue and practically shakes his head into you, your back arches more than you thought possible. He sucks and licks with professionalism. You skin begins to prickle as the heat rises in you further and further. He takes notices and pulls his head away.
"Don't tell me you're close already, we just started." He wipes his lips. He leans up and removes his tie to get it out of the way. He places it behind your head and uses it to pull you up towards him. You kiss intently. "Like how you taste, my love?" You blush hard at his comment.
He takes off his jacket and moves back down, rolling up his sleeves and buttoning them in place. His veins travel from his hands up, entrancing you. He slides one finger into you to get you used to it. However, your body is ready for whatever he has for you. He slides in one more right after.
"You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you sweetheart."
Just as you begin to reach your climax, he begins to go harder and faster. He moves his head back down and starts to suck on your clit. He whimpers as you pull his messy hair, making you starstruck.
"C'mon baby let it go." He continues. "Let it out for me. You can do it princess." You fucking love that he talks you through it. It sends you over the edge, causing you to finally release your orgasm. The two of you share deep breaths among each other and he licks his fingers to clean them. "You did so good for me, such a good little girl." He praises in such a smooth, sexy voice.
"I feel so much better." You exhale. Your vision slowly returns after the climax you just hit.
"I'm glad. You definitely earned that extra credit, by the way." He says. You laugh and begin to slide your panties back on, followed by hundreds of innocent kisses.
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Hi love! 💞 bc I'm on my hunger games renaissance era. Would you mind doing a finnick×reader where they are at the quarter quell and are all over each other like full on pda ignoring the fact that they are at the arena and that the capitol is watching because they are so in love they just live in a bubble and the others are so annoyed by how cute they are and yeah hahaha. I just love my man finnick he deserved better.
Thanks babe and have a good day 🤍🤍
Thank you for requesting honey!!!
Summary: When the Hunger Games started, it was clear who Snow wanted to win and in the end, it would be between you and Finnick. But In your bubble, nothing exists but the both of you.
TW: Mention of the Hunger Games, reference to suicide, kissing
The knowledge of death hangs on you like a personal reaper. Constantly looming and always calling to you and Finnick in a horrible and constant wave. The Reaping had been your sentence but with the deal with District 13, there’s a chance you and Finnick will make it out alive. Though that seems like the priority and plan that Snow had in the first place. 
Water surrounds you both in tons, always near and never too far away. It was an advantage set just for you both and the rest knew it. It was unfair but it was a good plan, neither of you could make it long without the other. Puppets would be a word of the past and that was what Snow was planning, to make a broken doll out of either of you. 
It’s dark in the arena and while Peeta and Katniss are close, you and Finnick could only be described as laying on top of each other. Your legs are tangled together but the way Finnick had you two laying, if either of your allies decided to attack, he could easily get to his trident and protect you. But neither of you have to worry about that at the moment or Finnick doesn’t, with his hand stroking through your hair and his eyes studying your face. 
You're sure the people of the Capitol are stunned, now knowing of your relationship with each other. Snow would try and hurt the people that you love, readying either of you to watch as your friends get killed but he wouldn’t be able to get ahold of them at the moment. That was one thing that you wouldn’t let go of until they agreed, your friends—your family had to be safe for this deal to happen. 
The hand carding through your hair keeps going but now a hand comes to your face, Finnick’s thumb rubbing over your cheek with eyes filled with nothing but love. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He asks, laying down fully beside you, letting you roll over and place your head on his chest. 
Your fingers start tapping on his chest and then slow down to trace his skin through the wet suit that both of you are wearing. “Mags, Annie, and the rest of them,” you say softly and you hope that at this angle, the Capitol has to strain their ears to listen to you. It wouldn’t be the least they could do and in your own way, it would be an almost type of payback from them making you loud enough to hear across the Districts since you’ve won. 
The fingers in your hair start scratching lightly and you fall into them, eyes closing at the feeling and you smile at the small laugh that emits from Finnick as he watches you. “They’re fine,” he tells you and you nod. 
Pulling away from his fingers, you prop yourself up on his chest. “I’m also thinking about us, about what’s going to happen. Finnick, what if it's down to us?” The question is almost just for the Capitol but, in a way, it’s not. You all still have to take out the Careers and Katniss doesn’t know about the plan. If anything, if you all did end up taking the Careers down then Katniss could remember that you two were a part of them technically and decide to end the alliance right then and there.
A solemn expression crossed his face and Finnick looked at you with knowing eyes. “You know what will happen,” he says and you clench your jaw. Before the deal, before you two knew you were going to make it out, Finnick had told you that if it came down to the both of you, he would make sure you made it no matter what.
You shake your head. “Finnick, no,” you say sternly but even you can hear the small amounts of pleading behind the words. 
The look of determination is behind his eyes, it’s the same one that he had when he told you the answer to your question on the train. “I will if I have to.” He scoots a bit, enough for you two to be close enough for him to lean down and touch your forehead with his and when he does, your eyes close. “If it means you’ll live then I will alright?” He says and you don’t think you can open your eyes but the remainder of the cold and unforgivable ways of the Hunger Games, even when rigged, reminds you that this may be the only time you have left with him. 
Opening your eyes, you look into his sea-green ones. “Yeah,” you tell him and Finnick leans down, capturing your lips with his. 
It’s always been easy to get lost in Finnick. With his hand-crafted and Capitol-made charm that made everyone drawn to him and simply the way he looked was the reason why after so many years, he’s still Snow’s number one attraction. But with his eyes and the way that he held you up when you firmly believed that you weren’t going to make it through your Games was what drew you to him.  It was the way that when you came back that he hugged you as fiercely as he could and stayed with you throughout those few extra days in the Capitol when you wanted to go home, holding you as you cried from the memories of what you had to do to survive. 
It was when he first kissed you, when he gently grabbed the side of your face and pulled you in that you knew you were a goner. That magnetic pull had kept you there like he was north and you were south.
Now, on the beach after escaping the fog and the monkeys safely and acquiring Johanna, Beetee, and Wiress with the sun coming down and in your element that was made for the both of you in this arena, Finnick’s lips seemed to stay glued to yours. Maybe it was the way the waves reminded both of you of home, of the house you stayed in at Victor’s Village, and the sound of the waves that would rock you two to sleep. Maybe it was the way that, even now, after one small kiss you can’t help but want more and Finnick was always willing to comply with that. 
You can hear the disgusted sounds that Johanna is making whenever she looks over at you two and you're sure that the others are as well but you can’t find yourself to care at the moment. Because in this little bubble that you two had made, them, the Hunger Games, and President Snow don’t exist. 
In this little bubble, you two are safe for once.
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thebearchives · 2 years
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ma moitié | CL16
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PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader
REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no
WORD COUNT: 5.4k
SYNOPSIS: no time better to confess than after a near-death experience, am i right?
WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst?, descriptions of a car crash, literally every dialogue is french so LOTS of translations (looking back now, i could have just been like “italics = french” but it’s too late), probably really inaccurate descriptions of a race bc idk logistics of races oops
as always, don’t be a ghost reader!
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“je me sens vraiment bien pour aujourd'hui, c'est mauvais?” i feel really good about today, is that bad?
your eyes dragged up from the egg you had just cracked into the hot pan and onto your phone, poorly propped up against a loaf of bread. said phone’s screen displayed the view up charles’ nose, his eyelashes peeking over the apples of his cheek. no doubt, he had been holding up his phone mic against his lips, making sure you could hear him over the bustling of the garage.
a giggle caused him to bring the phone back down, full face now in frame. his eyes were furrowed as he questioned, “tu te moques de moi? c'est mauvais, je le savais.” you're laughing at me? it's bad, i knew it.
you cut him off before he could get inside his head and stress himself out, “non, non, char, ce n'est pas mal du tout. vos résultats ont été bons tout le week-end, bien meilleurs que lors de vos dernières courses.” it's not bad at all. your results have been good all weekend, much better than any of your last races.
you turned the heat down of your egg, “il n'est pas faux de penser qu'aujourd'hui sera bon aussi.” it's not wrong to think today will be good too.
“alors pourquoi avez-vous ri?” then why did you laugh?
the pout on his face was adorable. adorable and absolutely horrible for your heart, which ached lightly. you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, arms around his neck and lips on his, kissing that pout away.
“allô?” charles’ voice brought you out of your thoughts, he scoffed playfully, “regarde-toi tu essaies de trouver une excuse.” hello?...look at you trying to come up with an excuse.
you reluctantly pulled your eyes away from his lips. at least there was one good thing about him travelling a lot for his job; whenever he called you, you could stare at his lips for as long as you wanted and he’d never know. 
“je n'ai pas besoin d'excuse, mais si tu veux savoir, ta voix s'est coupée et je n'ai pas tout compris.” i don't need an excuse, but if you must know, your voice cut out and I didn't catch everything.
you lied. of course, you would. why wouldn’t you? it’s not like you could tell him ‘hey, yeah, sorry i was staring at your lips because i want to kiss them.’ years of hiding it straight down the drain, along with his friendship too.
“mon dieu, encore ça? je viens littéralement de mettre à jour le plan que nous avons,” charles sighed, “peut-être que vous avez juste besoin d'un nouveau téléphone.” my god, that again? i literally just upgraded our plan…maybe you just need a new phone.
you waved him off, flipping your egg over. oops, slightly burnt. 
“ouais, ouais, le meilleur fournisseur de wifi de tout monaco, ça ne pourrait jamais être leur faute. pourquoi es-tu si catégorique sur le fait que c'est mon téléphone?” yeah, yeah, best wifi provider in all of monaco, could never be their fault. why are you so adamant it's my phone?
“parce qu'il l'est! il fonctionne parfaitement sur tous les appareils de la maison, sauf le téléphone.” because it is! it runs perfectly on every device in our house except your phone. 
charles brought the phone closer to his lips again, this time, however, it was angled sideways so you could see just outside his open driver room. he spoke again, “je vais payer même pour ton nouveau téléphone si tu le veux.” i'll even pay for your new phone if you want it.
“peu importe,” you rolled your eyes, “ne devrais-tu pas être littéralement dans ta voiture en ce moment?” whatever…shouldn’t you literally be in your car right now?
before charles could reply to you, his name was called out from somewhere outside the frame. his eyes met yours through the screen, a look of understanding shared between the two of you.
he had to go.
“tu peux le faire, char,” you smiled at him, “prends ce sentiment et fais-en une réalité.” you’ve got this, char. take that feeling and make it a reality.
“je t’aime, ma moitié.” i love you, my other half.
and then he was gone, taking your heart along with him.
moitié. you hated it when he called you those pet names. in all your years of knowing charles, rarely ever did he use your name. it was always ma moitié, mon ange, petite chou, anything and everything but your name. 
you hated the way it made you feel like you were more than just a friend to him. you hated the way it made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he returned your feelings too. you hated the butterflies, the clammy hands, the way your brain would just stop. you hated how easily you were like putty in his hands.
after charles had ended the call, you rushed to plate your egg before it burned to a crisp. with your coffee in one hand and plate in the other, you made yourself comfy on the couch, legs snug under a throw blanket, unmuting the tv which was already streaming the grand prix.
as you chewed on your breakfast, you couldn’t help but think back to charles’ words. he had every right to feel good about this race. this weekend had gone beautifully, with charles topping the times in every round of the qualifying. he was sitting in pole position, with carlos lined up right behind him in p3. you could only hope that the strategists at ferrari would help him succeed.
your lips involuntarily curled into a smile the second you saw charles’ car on the screen. that smile widened when his voice entered your ears, god, the way he spoke english was so perfect.
you wished you could have been there, in the garage wearing those red headphones. but sadly, you had taken too many sick days already and were saving your vacation days for the actual summer break and any grand prix that was especially significant to charles.
you watched the lights turn on one by one with great amazement. you had never known how it felt to be behind the wheel at that specific moment, not personally really. anytime you asked, charles would describe it as exhilarating, nerves just simply disappearing along with the lights. he’d also go on to say “you’d know if you karted with me instead of making me cry.”
and he was right. the two of you met way back when charles had only just started karting, at a karting race that your dad had been working as a commentator for. your mom, ever the outgoing person, quickly made friends with charles’ mom, and unlike charles on the circuit, you found yourself sitting next to a very small arthur, too young to kart alongside his brother.
when the race had finished, you and arthur were sat across from one another, a pile of ripped-up grass and flower petals between the two of you. the youngest leclerc’s toy car sat at the bottom of the pile, and at the sound of your mother saying ‘go’, the two of you dove your hands into the pile, fingernails scratching against the other’s hands, just to be the first to reach the car and pull it out. 
when you felt like you had finally grasped the small car, you pulled it towards yourself, unknowingly pulling the young boy along with you. as arthur lurched forward, the car slipped out of both of your hands and flew straight into charles’ head, helmet having just been taken off. 
safe to say, you had made charles cry the very first time you met him, which he never failed to bring up. 
you couldn’t help but wonder, eyes following charles’ red car along the track, if you’d be where you were in life had you not made him cry. or if 8-year-old pierre gasly hadn’t seen his friend get hit in the face with a toy car or tease him for crying like a little baby in his mother’s arms, every single time he saw you at a karting event. 
would you two be friends? would you even be living in this place, sharing a flat with charles leclerc, if it hasn’t been for that stupid ferrari toy car? 
the very toy car that arthur had gifted you and charles as a housewarming present, which now sat on the tv trolley, between two framed pictures of you two. one at your eighth birthday, months after you two had met, and one from when you were both 19, celebrating charles’ formula 2 championship title. 
the broadcast shifted to the camera in charles’ car, and you listened as he gave the team his update on his tires, and listened to them give him information in return. things were looking up for him, well-deserved after the last few shitty races.
it wasn’t until halfway into the race, right when charles had pitted for a new pair of tires, that things started to go downhill. although called in for the pit stop by the team, the mechanics had seemed unprepared for charles to pit, which caused charles to have to wait for an extra 10 seconds before exiting the pits. the lead he had built for himself slowly crumbling away, neck in neck with max’s car.
your hands gripped your empty coffee mug tightly, unmoving. you had taken your last sip just seconds before charles’ pitstop but had been too focused on the shitshow in front of you to place it down. 
you flinched as charles’ angry voice came through the radio, “he’s going to get ahead of me.”
you watched as his words became reality, joining the racing line milliseconds behind the redbull car. charles tried to maneuver his car around the sides to get ahead along the straight, but max had always been good at defending, charles had told you before that it was something he had both respected and hated about the dutch driver. 
the two cars drove nearly tire to tire as they drove through the chicane. your heart felt like it was in your throat, praying that the two cars didn’t touch. 
you felt like someone had thrown you into an ice bath when you heard charles’ radio again, his voice was filled with anger and frustration, “something isn’t right.”
his race engineer’s voice followed shortly, “everything looks good, charles. what is wrong?”
“i don’t know, the steering is acting weird. it’s getting hard to keep it under control,” you couldn’t tear your eyes from the red car, “there’s too much oversteer. more than normal.”
fuck.
charles’ car fell behind max’s slightly going into the next turn. it was clear now that charles had pointed it out, the back of his car coming out far too much for it to be normal. 
“okay, charles, we will look into that and tell you what to do. keep your head down and elbows out. the pace is looking good right now, you should be able to retake your place soon.”
what was mere seconds had felt like hours of charles trailing closely behind max’s car. it was the last turn of the lap when it happened.
charles had taken to the outer side of max’s car, still struggling to correct the oversteer, when max’s wheels locked up going into the turn. it had happened so fast. one moment, charles’ car had pulled up slightly ahead of max’s. the next, his car was spinning out, speeding straight towards the wall. 
your eyes stung with tears, the mug in your hand slipping and rolling off the blanket, shattering into tiny pieces on the ground. you barely registered the sound, barely being able to hear anything over the sound of your heart racing.
your breath hitched in your throat as they replayed the crash from charles’ perspective. the deafening silence after charles’ engineer asked if he was okay made you want to throw up.
get up, charles, please, the tears felt salty in your mouth. please, please, please.
you bunched up the blanket in your hands, watching as the screen zoomed in on the car. the halo looked to still be intact, but you could barely see charles from behind the cloud of smoke.
dread clouded over you, your mind both rushing with thoughts, yet silent all at the same time. where were the fucking medics? why was no one helping him out?
after what felt like years, you saw charles helmet emerge from within the cloud of smoke. his red racesuit next. your heart continued to race, calming slightly knowing that he was conscious. 
the medics reached charles’ car just as he had began moving, hands rushing to pull him up and out of his seat carefully. you watched with a bated breath as they supported him away from the red mess of a car. 
but charles was stubborn, you knew this, and so you watched as he pushed away from the medics slightly, trying to walk on his own. they had backed off a bit, trailing alongside him just in case his body decided to give out on him. 
and it did. on his fifth independent step, his knees buckled, the medics catching him before he hit the ground. the way charles’ head titled forward was a clear sign that he had lost consciousness.
you felt numb, watching them take him into the back of the medical car. the camera switched as soon as the car drove off, showing the reactions of the rest of the grid drivers, before panning onto the damaged redbull car, which had also been taken out of the race in the collision, albeit much less destroyed than the ferrari. not far from it, you could see max also being taken care of by another set of medics.
you felt sick. 
you don’t know how long you sat there, wet eyes staring blankly into the tv, seeing but not registering. it wasn’t until a notification sounded loudly in the kitchen, recognizing the tone as the one you had reserved for members of the leclerc family, that you snapped out of it. 
you rushed off of the couch, forgetting about the broken ceramic on the floor as you raced to the kitchen. it was a text from lorenzo.
ils l'emmènent à l'hôpital. they’re taking him to the hospital.
the hospital. charles was going to the hospital. 
you felt all of your emotions hit you at once, the weight of it all causing you to physically hunch over the counter.
a sharp pain shot up your leg and you gasped, eyes flitting down to notice the trail of blood that you had left in your haste to reach your phone. you had been numb when it happened, but as your foot screamed out in pain, you realized you had stepped in a glass shard.
you momentarily ignored the rush of pain and nausea that was climbing up your body, hastily sending lorenzo a reply.
est-ce mauvais? is it bad?
todt a dit qu'il a repris connaissance dans la voiture, mais ils veulent encore l'emmener pour s'assurer que tout va bien. todt said he gained consciousness in the car, but they still want to take him to make sure nothing is wrong.
you felt like you could breathe again, charles was awake. 
tenez-moi au courant s'il vous plaît. please keep me updated. 
il va s'en sortir, ma petite. he's going to be okay, kiddo.
although he knew he couldn’t quell how you were feeling, lorenzo still tried his best. and his best was good enough for you to finally stop hyperventilating. charles would be okay. he had to be.
you rested your head against your arms, taking a deep breath to reset your brain. after a couple seconds, you raised your head, turning around to look at the small trail of red that you had dragged along with you. 
your foot was still bleeding, and you decided to wrap it up before you cleaned the floor. it’d do you no good to just sit here and waste away, waiting for an update from lorenzo, or a call from charles himself. 
you winced as you took a step, hand gripping the counter tightly for some support. with the lack of adrenaline coursing through your body, you were able to really feel how badly you had cut your foot. 
you grabbed a towel paper and placed it against the heel of your foot, half-hopping to charles’ bathroom, where you knew he kept his first-aid kit. you had one too, but yours had consisted of only bandaids and alcohol wipes. charles had splurged on the good stuff, saying something along the lines of “all the athletes carry one.”
you weren’t sure if he was right as you had only had the pleasure of meeting fellow racecar drivers, arthur leclerc and pierre gasly, both of which had received the same kit from charles as an “it was on sale so i bought it for you” gift.
by the time you had finished cleaning out your wound and wrapping it, you felt exhausted and mentally drained. your earlier panic had left you feeling extremely cold, and you couldn’t help but catch sight of the hoodie thrown over charles’ desk chair. the same one he had been wearing the night before he left.
you pulled yourself up from the ground, throwing away the bloodied alcohol wipes and gauze packaging before hobbling over to the chair and picking up the hoodie.
you willed yourself to not tear up as you brought the hoodie up towards your nose. it still smelled like him. you couldn’t help but wish that charles was in the hoodie still, wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing until you would cough and slap his back. it was his favourite thing to do, up there with blowing air in your ear while you were cooking and poking your skin whenever it peeked out from under your shirt. 
“c'est une vengeance pour les dommages émotionnels que tu as causés quand on avait six ans." he had said once, after you yanked his ear in retaliation and demanded why he was so insistent on annoying you. it’s payback for the emotional damage you caused when we were six.
god, when you’d see him again, you were going to get your own payback for the emotional damage he caused today. 
you slipped the hoodie on, the warmth of it instantly blocking out the cold you felt. you made your way back to the kitchen, wetting a towel paper and wiping at the trail of blood from the kitchen to the living room. 
thank god for tiled flooring, huh? but also, fuck tile flooring because if there was a carpet in your living room, maybe your cup would have never shattered in the first place.
when you entered the living room, you found yourself faltering, eyes catching sight of the tv that was still on, now showing the repeat of charles’ crash. you looked away when the car slammed into the wall, opting to turn the tv off altogether and began picking up the pieces of what had been your favourite mug. 
back in the kitchen, you stared at your phone, willing it to ring with a message or a text from charles, or anyone from his family really.
after realizing how much of an idiot you were being, you grabbed the phone yourself and started to draft a message to charles, explaining how you worried you had been and how you hoped he was okay.
one message quickly turned into several as you poured your worries out to him over text. you went from freaking out, to scolding him, to finally settling on how you couldn’t wait to see him and that you weren’t going to let him out of your sight the entire time he would be at home.
just as you had finally put the phone down, it rang. you rushed to pick it up, “hello?”
“ah, y/n? bonjour, ma petite fleur.” my little flower. pascale’s voice was so soft, like she knew exactly how you were feeling. she probably did. 
the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress all came flooding out at the sound of charles’ mother. 
you sniffled, “maman,”
at the sound of your voice, pascale felt her heart clench. over the last (nearly) two decades, you had become like the daughter that she had never had, and with pascale being able to see through both you and her son, she knew one day, you would become her daughter for real. she had been the one to convince you to call her ‘maman’, calling you her ‘belle fille’.
“oh, ma belle fille. tout va bien, ange.” oh, my beautiful girl. everything is okay, angel.
“comment le savez-vous?” you rubbed your eye, “vous lui avez parlé?” how do you know? have you talked to him?
“la mère sait toujours ce qui est le mieux, non?” she chuckled lightly, though you could tell she was also choked up, “son manager a dit qu'il va bien, qu'il se repose pour le moment.” mother knows best, no?...his manager said that he is fine, that he is resting for the moment.
you hummed, too choked up to say anything.
pascale cooed out your name, “mon ange, pourquoi tu ne viens pas?” why don’t you come over?
you shook your head before remembering she couldn't see you, “non, c'est bon. ça ira. je suis sûr que vous êtes plus secoué par ce qui s'est passé. je ne veux pas me mettre en travers.” no, it’s okay. i’ll be fine. i'm sure you're more shaken up by what happened. i don't want to get in the way.
pascale tsked, “petite idiote, tu ne pourrais jamais te mettre en travers du chemin. tu es de la famille, je sais que tu souffres aussi.” silly girl, you could never get in the way. you are family, i know you're hurting too.
you couldn’t help but laugh pitifully at the way she called you an idiot, “j'ai été vraiment stupide, non? j'avais tellement peur que charles parte et je ne lui aurais jamais dit ce que je ressentais.” i've been really stupid, no? i was so scared that charles would leave and i would have never told him how i felt.
pascale had been the only one to know how you truly felt about charles, having caught you crying one christmas night when charles had brought his girlfriend to join the family dinner. she had comforted you all night, and spent the whole dinner staring charles’ new girlfriend down, though you–and charles–had no idea.
“il aurait été tout aussi stupide,” pascale hummed, “je ne peux qu'espérer que ce jour l'amène à admettre ses sentiments également.” he would be stupid too…i can only hope that today causes him to admit his feelings as well.
“je te le répète, il ne ressent pas la même chose.” i keep telling you, he doesn’t feel the same.
“ouais, ouais, et je continue à te dire qu'il l'est. Je connais mon garçon, et il est amoureux de toi. Il ne s'en rend juste pas compte.” and i keep telling you, he does. i know my boy, and he's in love with you. just doesn't realize it.
the two of you chatted for a bit more, with pascale giving you live updates every so often. lorenzo and arthur both joined the conversation, commanding you take care of yourself or else they would come and bring you home.
the conversation had only just died down when pascale gasped, “oh, mon dieu! c’est charles! y/n, je vous téléphonerai après, d'accord?” it’s charles, i’ll call you after, okay?
your breath hitched in your throat, “bien sûr.” of course.
it felt like forever, waiting for her to call back, or for charles to reach out to you on his own. yet nothing happened. 
sometime later, your phone buzzed with a text from lorenzo.
il va bien. Il rentre pour finir son travail avec les médias, mais il prend l'avion ce soir. he's okay. he's going back to finish his media duties, but he'll fly back tonight.
c'est un soulagement. that’s a relief.
viens. je vais chercher charles et le ramener à la maison. il voudra te voir. come over. i'll be picking up charles and bringing him home. he will want to see you.
non, c'est bon. je le verrai quand il reviendra à l'appartement. no, it's fine. i'll see him when he comes back to the apartment.
y penser? think about it?
you left him on read. as much as you wanted to see him, you weren’t sure you wanted to in front of his entire family as well. who knew how you would react?
not long after, you found yourself in front of the tv again, much like you had been earlier in the morning, only this time charles was no longer in a smoking car, but rather in front of a bunch of mics and cameras.
you watched as he answered questions about the car, the oversteer, and how he had felt in the moment. your heart ached as you stared at his face, he looked so tired. he’d grimace every time he moved, so lightly that no one would notice. but you did, you’d learned to identify any subtle expression changes early on in your friendship with charles. he was a stubborn man, but you were nothing if not just as stubborn. 
you didn’t know when you fell asleep, eyes getting heavier and heavier as you watched charles answer the same questions again and again. you also didn’t know how long you slept for, the stress and tension of the day had left you exhausted. 
you barely stirred when the lock of your house opened, or when the keys chimed loudly as charles placed them in the key bowl near the door. when he was picked up by lorenzo, he had told him to take him to your shared apartment immediately. lorenzo, who knew what was coming, didn’t question a thing, just gave his brother a smile and a quick “it’s about time” before driving. 
the driver turned around, leaving his luggage near the entrance. the sound of the tv was quiet, but charles could hear it. his eyebrows furrowed, it was late. were you waiting for him to come home? he walked towards the living room, stopping when he caught sight of you on the couch, asleep.
he quietly walked forward, hand blindly grabbing at the tv remote and turning it off. his eyes followed down your figure, lingering on the hoodie you had been wearing before moving down to the bright white gauze you had wrapped around your foot earlier.
he kneeled down next to you, hand lightly grazing the rough wrapping, “oh, mon dieu, ce qui vous est arrivé, ange?” oh, my god, what happened to you, angel?
at the sound of his voice, you stirred. charles cursed himself for being loud, although his words had been whispered so quietly. charles retracted his hand, shushing you lightly as you groaned.
“rendors-toi, amour.” he lightly pressed a hand against your fluttering eyes, blocking out the light from above. go back to sleep, love.
“charles?” you pushed your head up, cheek nuzzling into his palm, “c'est toi? tu es vraiment là?” is that you? are you really here?
charles could feel his heart break inside his chest. how many times had you woken up tonight, expecting to see him but then be wrong? how many times had you dreamt of him coming back home?
charles rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “oui, c’est moi. je suis là.” yes, it’s me. i’m here.
you blinked twice, vision clearing enough to see the man you had been waiting for, sitting right in front of you. your eyes instantly pooled with tears, “charles?”
he rushed to soothe you, “ne pleure pas, mon amour. je suis là, je vais bien.” don't cry, my love. i'm right here, i'm okay. 
you reached up and grabbed the hand that had been resting on your cheek, “tu ne comprends pas. j'ai eu si peur pour toi.” you don't understand. i was so scared for you.
you sat up and charles moved to grab your other hand in his as well.
he squeezed them softly, “je suis désolé, mon ange, tellement, tellement désolé. je ne voulais pas te faire peur aujourd'hui.” i’m so sorry, my angel, so, so, sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you today.
you lurched forward, hands escaping his and instead wrapping around his neck. charles’ own hands found themselves in new places as well, one wrapped around your back while the other flew behind him to keep the two of you from toppling over.
his heart tightened, feeling his neck get wet with your tears as you sniffled loudly. his other hand found itself wrapping around you as well, pulling you closer to his body. 
charles moved the two of you into a more comfortable position, stretching his legs out so that you were essentially sitting in his lap, straddling him, “je suis désolé, y/n,” he apologized again.
at the sound of your name slipping through his lips, you couldn’t help the sobs that escaped your own. charles’ grip around you tightened, “hey, what’s wrong? qu'est-ce qu'il y a?” what’s the matter?
you shook your head, “tu es si méchante, charles. je n'ai même pas pu te dire que je t'aimais quand tu as raccroché ce matin.” you are so mean, charles. i didn't even get to tell you i loved you when you hung up this morning.
he lightly coerced you to pull your head back, “oh, mon coeur, je suis désolé.” he felt like a broken record, apologizing again and again, but in the moment, nothing was coming to his head.
you leaned back, puffy eyes connecting with his own, which were tinged red, a sign that he had been crying as well, “ce n'est pas ta faute. c'est la mienne. je ne t'ai jamais dit ce que je ressentais, et je m'en voulais tellement de ne pas l'avoir admis plus tôt. quand tu n'es pas sorti de la voiture tout de suite, j'ai eu tellement peur de t'avoir perdu. perdu avant d'avoir pu te dire que je t'aimais.” it's not your fault. it's my fault. i never told you how i felt, and i was so angry at myself for not admitting it sooner. when you didn't get out of the car right away, i was so afraid that i had lost you. lost before i could tell you that i loved you.
charles’ tears spilled out of his eyes, “c'est ma faute aussi.” his words were the same as pascale’s, “j'ai toujours eu trop peur de te dire ce que je ressentais parce que j'étais trop égoïste. je ne voulais pas te perdre, alors je ne t'ai jamais dit ce que je ressentais.” it's my fault, too. i was always too scared to tell you how i felt because i was too selfish. i didn't want to lose you, so i never told you how i felt.
“tu m'aimes?” your voice was so soft, as if scared to be wrong. you love me?
charles placed his forehead against yours, “tellement. je t'adore plus que tout ce que j'ai jamais aimé.” so much. i adore you more than anything i've ever loved.
the tears slipped out as you relished in his revelation, “je t'aime. mon dieu, je t'ai aimé aussi longtemps que je me souvienne.” i love you. my god, i've loved you for as long as i can remember.
charles leaned up, kissing your tears away, “je te promets qu'à partir d'aujourd'hui, tu ne pleureras plus jamais à cause de moi.” i promise, from today forward, you will never cry because of me ever again.
your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips against your skin. he couldn’t help it, placing soft kisses against your eyelids. 
his hands followed down your spine, resting at the base of your waist, “on va te mettre au lit, mon ange.” let's get you to bed, angel.
“je peux m'allonger avec toi?” can i lay with you?
“toujours, à partir de maintenant et pour toujours.” charles smiled lightly, “je suis tout à toi, ma moitié.” always, from now on and forever…i am all yours, my other half.
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rinbowaman · 10 months
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ↀOUBLE IIROUBLE - CHAPTER FIVE
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Warnings: um...yeah...some non-con stuff turned to consensual. read at your own risk, (still a good read though) you all know how i like a good dark fic...this one aint no different but done worry, it gets good. Not proofread...my excuse this time is bc the power outage.....so...yeah. lol.
@heeshees - you're going to like this one. This will be your chapter ;)
@nikstrange - girl with all those edits you be sending me...you're next. lol. dont worry boo...i got you.
Walking out through the double door exit, you saw the parked car before you the moment you stepped out. Heeseung gets out of the front passenger seat and opens the door to the back for you, flashing you with a warm and closed-mouth smile, greeting you as he cradles you into the back seat before returning to his own beside Heejeong.
“How was work?” 
“It was good, thanks.” You faintly returned the smile as you settle in the seat. 
Heejeong was driving this time. While you placed your seatbelt on, he turns back to make eye contact and inquires how your day went.
“Did you have a good day?” 
“Yeah I did, a little busy but good. Thanks.”
Once Heeseung was settled in his own seat, the brothers both paired a soft smile as Heejeong begins driving off, while Heeseung inquires what you were craving for dinner. 
“Anything in particular you want for dinner?” 
“Mmm no not really, whatever you guys feel like having is fine.”
“Oh come girl, we’ve been choosing since you moved in. It’s your turn, tell us…” turning around in his seat, while you sat directly behind, Heeseung peeks back at you. Leaning slightly backwards, his shoulder blades hovering over the center console as his head gently grazes over Heejeong’s shoulder, he displays a toothy grin with narrow eyes as he nudges his chin to you. With the hand that was closest to your leg, he reaches over and gently places his palm right on the edge of your kneecap. 
“What do you want? Baby….sis?” 
You smiled and chuckled nervously at his tone, his words, and the physical contact. Yet the roughness of his hand against your bare skin felt relaxing…and thrilling at the same time. The scent of his and Heejeong’s cologne combined made of the perfect scent as Heejeong’s coolness and the spice of Heeseung’s warmth made up for a pleasant combination. 
His touch was stirring something inside you, but who could possibly blame you? Both men were attractive, smart, successful, and kind. The fact that you were becoming their stepsister was a huge bonus considering they were extra nice to you. 
Far too….nice…..
Gently rubbing his fingertips along your skin, swaying them back and forth, he snaps you out of your dazed state as his tranquil voice hits you like a ton of bricks. It was too calm, almost sentimental….personal….and even sensual. 
“Hmm? Sis? You still thinking about what it is…..we can get you?” His toothy grin transitions to a subtle closed mouth smirk as his narrow eyes widened just a tad, staring right into the depths of your soul through your own peepers. 
“Umm….should we get Indian food?”
Smiling once more, Heeseung nods, as did Heejeong. 
“That sounds good, Indian food it is! We know a really good spot.” Heejeong remarks as he steers the wheel effortlessly with one hand, while resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped against the window.
……….
The boys didn’t lie, they did know of a good spot. You would have never had thought to try out the street food vendors, but once they introduced you to one, ran by a friendly couple that hailed from the beautiful lands of India, you were amazed at just how sensational the food was. 
“Do you know what you want? We can order for you if you like?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” 
“Oh I know you will…”
Smirking while speaking lowly, staring while you gazed at the menu hoisted right under the canopy of the food stall, you didn’t catch his response. 
“Hmm? Sorry did you say something?”
“Nah, just speaking aloud while reading the menu.” He chuckles as he smiles down at you. His smile, it was so dashing with the way he peered down from his height, scoffing just a tad bit of that smooth and mellow voice as he swipes his tongue over the top row of his teeth. He looked so smooth and handsome, yet bashful at the same time. 
“You guys ready?” Heejeong looks back with the same smile, reaching out to you and Heeseung. You both walk up to meet with him at the window, where he continued to dash a devilish smile as he faintly bites down on his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, we’re ready. Just get Y/n the same as us.” 
“You got it.” Heejeong responds handsomely as he turns back to the gentleman at the window and places the order. 
The three of you chose a double benched, picnic table where you sat right next to Heejeong and across from Heeseung.
The owner of the food vendor stall brought out the dishes that Heejeong and Heeseung recommended. The smell was delightful, not to mention, it was a dish that brought you a sense of nostalgia, as you recognize the ingredients. It was a traditional dish that you were fond of, but it had been so long since you last had it.  
Chole Kulche, your favorite.
“Do you know what this is?” Heeseung raised a brow and looked at you with an admiring gaze, watching as you looked at the dish.
“Yeah…yeah I do.” You nodded slightly as you faintly chuckled. It was a dish that you enjoyed immensely and had brought out your love for Indian food to begin with.
Chuckling, Heeseung rests his chin in his palm as he props his elbow next to his plate. "Hmm...then tell me princess…what’s the name of it?” he teasingly asks, testing the accuracy of your knowledge and honesty in a playful and flirtatious manner.
“Chole Kulche.” You chuckled back.
Smiling, he maintained sitting upright in his posture while his chin rested against his palm, blinking with satisfaction. “Good girl…you even know how to pronounce it correctly.” He finishes and he winks at you.
The three of you dined and enjoyed the evening with laughter, just like always, with every meal. They kept you entertained with stories of their childhood, which revealed the development of their close bond as they shared their most valuable moments together, which had always reflected the both of them relying on one another as each other’s backbone. You couldn’t deny it, it had made you a bit jealous seeing as you lacked that sibling bond growing up.
“Are you excited for the wedding?” Heeseung asked as he sips out of his cup, his eyes lingering on you while he raises his brows.
“Yeah I’m pretty excited….its good for my mom that she found your guys dad. I was starting to get a little worried since she had been without any companionship for a while.” You remarked seldomly, taking note of the solid gaze that the brothers issued to one another at the mentioning of your mother being with their father, Danny.
You didn’t know what to make of the look, but it didn’t seem to be one of pleasant value, considering it was a stern and dissatisfying look. So much, that it propelled you to return the question right back.
“What about you guys?”
Heeseung looks down at his plate and smirks, while Heejeong spoke for the both of them.  “We are thrilled to have you and your mother apart of the family.”
Leaving it at that simple statement, you watched as the two went silent and focused on eating, which left you nodding and not pushing for any more questions, you had sensed that you were breaching a sour subject since it was no secret that they had a troubling bond with their father, that was made evident since the first dinner you had with them. Yet you didn’t know why since their father, Danny, had seemed like a jewel, he was nice to your mother and very caring towards you as a father would be to his own daughter.
You had wondered if they had harbored some sort of grudge, perhaps it had something to do with the divorce of their parents, which you had wondered about but never brought up, and from the looks of it, it was best not to. From experience, you knew that divorce between is never easy to handle, especially for a child, much less two siblings.
“Oh, um…how are Yeon Jin and Sa-ra doing?” You asked, changing the subject rather abruptly, breaking the silent awkwardness.
Both boys looked at you with rather wide eyes, yet their look wasn’t so surprising, just simply stared as if they had no idea what you were referring to until Heeseung finally answered. “They’re good.”
“Are they coming to the wedding?”
“Maybe….we’ll see.” Heeseung takes a bite of his food before grabbing a napkin and wiping his fingers as he takes another glance over towards Heejeong, who faintly, nods.
………..
Once you all had arrived at the house, you opted to go straight to bed, seeing as you had an early morning.
“Good night.”
“Night sweet thing.” Heeseung issues as you walk up the stairs.
“Let us know if you need anything.” Heejeong adds.
With a quick shower, brushing your teeth and changing, you plopped yourself on the bed and sunk into the feeling of being enveloped by the cool silk sheets.
Resting your eyes, your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming text. Gazing at the message that you had just received, you saw that it was from Kurt, who expressed how good it was to see you again.
“…Hmm…I wonder….” You mentally noted as you came up with an idea and messaged back.
…………………………………………………
The morning of the wedding, you aid your mother with her gown and her veil as she takes her bouquet.
“Oh Y/n, you look so pretty, my girl.” Your mother smiles, admiring the simple, floral midi dress you had on. The coloration of fuchsia and violet bounced off the white background of the satin material, it was the perfect dress to adorn for your mother’s wedding, yet you made her swallow her words as you remarked that the beauty, was her.
“Mama, you look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”
Walking her over to the alter, behind the grand double doors, you enter through the side as you walk over towards the front row to find your seat, where the boys had already been waiting.
Breaching up, they were seated at the center of the row. Heejeong’s back was facing you, while Heeseung was seated right next to him, facing your direction. Sitting with his legs loosely crossed and his arm resting atop the backing of the seat rest, leaning in as he spoke quietly to Heejeong, you watched as Heeseung suddenly stops his sentence and gawks the very moment he saw you. Heejeong turns and displays the same reaction.
 It was the first they had seen you all morning, much less in that dress that had everyone swooning over you as they watched you walk up, front and center. You couldn’t lie to yourself, the way the two dashing young men noted and stared at you made your heart skip a beat. They looked so dashing with their black suit and tie, it was almost hard to breathe at the sight of them side by side.
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Standing up, Heejeong walks over to you as you remained at the edge of the row. Extending a hand out to you, you gently hold on as he greets you with a flashing smile.
“Well hello there, don’t you look pretty today.”
Leading you to the center of the row, he seats you in the center, right in between him and Heeseung, where your back was met with the latter’s arm as it remained in place atop the back rest.
“Hi.” He flirtatiously issues as he flashes a grin.
“Hi.” You chuckled back and fluttered your eyelashes. You couldn’t help but respond back in a flirtatious manner, the boy had it coming, yet you figured some harmless and minor teasing wouldn’t be too bad, so long as it remained within limitations considering that you were now family, despite not related by blood.
Taking a deep inhale of your perfume, Heeseung slightly groans as he finally exhales out. “You look soooo….beautiful.” His eyes trail down and sets home on your exposed thighs as your dress slightly rides up from your seated stance.
“Thank you. You both look very handsome; I like your suits.” You chuckled as you set your gaze at the podium where the priest was preparing for the ceremony.  
During the ceremony, everyone admired at how beautiful your mother looked with her white gown, and Danny standing across, genuinely smiling in bleak happiness. As they took their vows, you noticed how Heejeong and Heeseung both smiled in your direction. Releasing a chuckle while maintaining your gaze at the bride and groom, you merely used your peripherals to gleam a soft peek at the two boys next to you. Softly placing his hand on your thigh, his thumb gently stroking up and down your skin, Heejeong leans into your ear and whispers, “You would look so pretty in a wedding dress.”
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Raising a brow as you gave a nervous smile, you bashfully chuckled quietly as you raised a hand and slightly covered your mouth. It was the most flattering compliment you ever received, too bad it had to come from your stepbrother…at least one of them.
“I don’t think I’d look as pretty as mom though.” You modestly responded back.
“Yeah?.....I beg to differ.” His voice going lower, he whispers right back without missing a beat. His words caused you to look over to him and give a soft smile as your eyes trailed off to the side once you saw his handsome gaze, deeply admiring your face.
Sure, it was obvious to you that your stepbrothers may have thought you were attractive, and they were nice to you, practically at your beck and call if you ever needed them to be, yet still, it was hard to avoid giving in each time they coated you with such kind words. But you knew it was going to have to stop, or at least tone down at some point, and perhaps it will during the banquet….
……………………………
Seated at the beautifully adorned round tables, you noticed the placards resting in front of each chair, drafted in delicate calligraphy were the names of each guest, and just as you had secretly arranged….
“Hey, y/n. I’m finally here, sorry I missed the ceremony, but I’m glad I could make it in now.”
You had invited Kurt, as a manner to introduce him to the family since you had recently decided to give him a chance and accept his offer to begin a relationship.
“Oh no worries, here come and meet my family.” You took him by the hands and brought him over to your mother and Danny first, seeing as your two brothers had excused themselves momentarily from the dining setting and went to the open bar.
“Mom, Danny, this is Kurt. We went to high school together and have recently met up.”
“Oh Kurt! I remember you! My gosh it’s been a while! How are you?” Your mother gasped out as she stood from her seat and greeted Kurt with a welcoming hug.
“I’m good Mrs….um…”
“Lee, it’s Lee.” You whispered.
“Lee! Mrs. Lee.” He laughs out.
“Oh its okay, you can call me *your mom’s name here*. This is Danny, my husband.”
Danny stands and welcomes Kurt with a soft smile and a warm handshake. “It’s so nice to meet you, we’re so glad you could make it.”
“Thank you Sir. Congratulations to you both.” Kurt responds back. Conversing with your mother and Danny, your mother pulls you off to the side faintly and inconspicuously whispers, “are you two dating?” to which you nodded.
“We just started a few days ago, he came back to town and we hit it off really well.” You elaborated as you watched Kurt and Danny converse rather enthusiastically about work and Kurt’s travels.
Walking up were Heeseung and Heejeong. You couldn’t be sure with the frenzy that was crowding around, but it looked as if the two boys had harsh looks on their faces as they took notice of Kurt speaking with Danny.
“Oh gosh….can’t they just let things go for one day and be courteous towards their father? It’s your guy’s wedding day.” You whispered to your mother.
“Shh..I know. Just let it be, Its alright.” Your mother whispers back as she holds your hand and rubs it.
“Boys, come meet Kurt, this is uh....” Danny started, bashfully smiling as he caught himself in a tight spot. Kurt smiled back and extended a hand for a welcoming handshake to Heejeong first.
“Hi there, I’m Kurt.”
Heejeong merely looked down at Kurt’s hand before glaring back up at him….then over to you.
Taking the man’s hand, he shakes it softly, but grips hard. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joey.” Heejeong responds back, faintly smiling.
Kurt remained courteous and a good sport as he extends his hand over to Heeseung, who didn’t look much more pleased than his brother. In fact, the moment Kurt had shifted his hand over, Heeseung had all but then rolled his eyes as he took in Kurt’s introduction with Heejeong.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kurt.” He says once more, smiling as brightly as ever.
Heeseung’s face was tilted off to the side, slightly leaned back with a flare of rough attitude as his eyes glared in your direction. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, displayed thorugh the slightly parted lips, he takes Kurt by the hand and shakes it while introducing himself.
“Nice to mee you…..I’m Ethan.” His voice just as low, if not, lower than Heejeong’s.
“Wow, twins huh? My cousin just gave birth to twins.” Kurt smiles as he attempts to make small talk with your brothers, who remained stagnant with their strict expressions, barely making eye contact with Kurt, instead, they kept glaring over at you.
You figured they were disappointed that you hadn’t told them about Kurt sooner, though it wasn’t your fault, you had only just began dating him a few days ago, a day after when you had texted him, inviting him to the wedding. The next day you had both went out for coffee after your brothers had dropped you off. Kurt was so very kind that you had felt it would be a missed opportunity if you hadn’t taken up his offer. The moment he held your hand across the table at the café was when you knew that that was the chance to take and begin a relationship anew.
Since there was so much to do in preparations for the nuptials, you spent most of the days helping your mother, leaving you no chance to tell your brothers that you now had a boyfriend. Yet you figured that they would eventually welcome Kurt the more they get to know him, assuming that they were displaying a level of a protective nature as brothers.
“Yeah, so…how do you know y/n? Do you guys work with each other?” Heejeong inquires, glancing a wide eyed look over to you before flashing it back to Kurt.
That look…..it was….
“What the Hell was that?”
You mentally noted the outline of Heejeong’s wide eyes and that rather amusing and yet….eerie look that he had just a second ago as he shifted his sights between you and Kurt.
“Oh well….y/n and I went to high school together a while back. I recently just came back to town and met up with her and….well…we hit it off so we just…you know.” Kurt begins to chuckle as he commits a half turn and glances over to you, smiling.
“….No….I don’t know…..enlighten me.” Heejeong spoke as he crosses his arms.
“Oh, um well…we haven’t made it publicly known yet…but um-“
“We’re dating.” You interjected softly. Crossing your own arms, you issued a stern glance of your own back to your two brothers, who both looked at you unpleasantly with stares of anger and disappointment as their countenance reflected their response to your defiance.
“Oh speaking of which, where is Yeon-jin and Sa-ra?” Danny inquires as he looks over to his twin sons.
“They were busy.” Heeseung remarks, crossing his arms, joining the shared stance that you and Heejeong both committed. A battle of harsh stares was exchanged between the three of you.
“Oh boy….it’s going to be an awkward night at the house….” You noted.
…………………………..
The banquet went along well, aside from you and your brothers hardly speaking to one another, yet that didn’t deter from them looking at you nearly the entire time. Only this time, there were no flashing smiles, no chuckles, no affectionate display of gentleness or humor.
“You want a ride home?” Kurt asks.
“Yeah that’ll be nice.” You respond back, not even caring to glance over to your two new brothers.
……………
“They’ll get over it. I can understand being so protective, but this is absurd.”
……………
Dropping you off, you leaned over for a hug, unexpectedly, Kurt places a soft and quick kiss on your lips. Shocked, you chuckled as he bashfully stares at the steering wheel.
“Sorry….I just…I don’t know…” he laughs.
“It’s okay….” You bit your lip as you chuckled once more. Leaning in, you whispered out. “Should we try again?”
Meeting you halfway, your faces reunite in a gentle motion. He kisses you passionately as he reaches up and cups your face as you rest your elbow on the center console.
“See you tomorrow?” He asks.
“Sure.”  You smiled as you tapped his chin.
Bidding goodbye, you walked into the house. All the lights were off, signifying the boys were asleep in their rooms, which gave you a sense of relief, since you three had split from the wedding banquet in extreme awkwardness, not even saying goodbye to each other. As you walked upstairs, you revisited the idea of possibly looking for your own place, seeing as the boys may present an issue if they don’t check their attitudes in regards to you dating Kurt. You’re a grown woman, how could they not be realistic about you dating? You could understand about them being slightly concerned, yet you knew Kurt for years, not to mention their attitude was uncalled for. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to bother Kurt, or perhaps he didn’t take notice, if he did, he was at least a good sport about it and never mentioned it to you.
Quietly entering your bedroom, you tossed your jacket on the lounge chair and began to unbuckle your heels.
“So…”
Your breath hitched as you turned around to the deep voice that emerged from behind, it was Heeseung. Standing by the door, camouflaged in the shadows as he was still wearing his suit from the wedding, he propped himself against the wall with his arms crossed, only the sliver sheen of light from outside peering through the window, provided the source of light for you to make out just a tad bit of his frame and face.
“Wh-what are you doing?....” you asked, still recovering from the shocked fright he gave you.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
His attitude irked you, so much that you decided enough was enough.
“Heeseung….what’s your guys deal? I get it we’re family now, but….I’m a grown woman. With that being said, I’m going to start looking for my own place because this is getting out of hand-“
Cutting you off, his sharp tone inhibited you from finishing your thought.
“Come again?....”
“….I said I’m going to be moving out….and that you both need to not act the way you did earlier….”
“Oooh yes….lets talk about that.” Straightening his posture, he uses his foot to push his frame off the wall as he starts walking towards you, with his arms remaining crossed, he leans in….closely, the light glaring through the window closest to you permitted the sight of his face, which had a smirk….but it was far from dashing or handsome, it was rather crazy, sadistic even…..it was twisted and frightening.
“Lets talk….about today…..hmm?.....Princess?”
“…Don’t….dont call me that….in fact, stop with these pet names…”
“Awww…..that right?....BABY?”
Feeling a sudden grab and tug, you felt his hands wrap around your wrist harshly as he pulls you against his body.
“Wh-what are you doing?! Stop!”
“Nuh-uh. Come here, we need to have a little talk, you and I.”
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“Stop! Heeseung let go!”
Plastering your frame against his body, he grabs onto your waist and starts to nuzzle his face against the nook of your neck, causing you to gasp as you jumped up from the shocking sensation of his lips sucking on to your skin. Your reaction…didn’t work in your favor, as it allowed him to gain more leverage in pulling you in, leaving no gap between your bodies.
“Stop! Please stop! Stop…l-let go!”
Groaning against your skin, his arm wrapped around you lower back while his hand cuffs your wrist and pins it behind your back, causing your arm to take a bend at the elbow, leaving only your weak arm free to push him away, yet your measly attempts did nothing but pleasantly antagonize him.
“Shhh….come here…..COME HERE.”
Keeping your wrist pinned to your back, he swoops his hand under your thigh and lifts it, fixing it to the hilt of his hip, using brute strength to levitate your body while he simultaneously sits down on the lounge chair, forcing you to sit on his lap, straddling him as he feeds your legs through the loop holes of chair, under the arm rests.
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“There….that’s better…..” he calmly speaks against your throat as he brushes his nose upwards, causing you to tilt your head back, exposing your entire neckline.
“Stop! This is wrong! You’re insane, get off!”
Gasping out a breath against the center of your neck, his parted lips gently brushing aginst your skin as he answers.
“Don’t be like that…..haven’t I shown you kindness and affection?....Haven’t I shown just how much I ADORE you?”
“Stop! Let go! There’s something wrong with you!”
“Those are some pretty strong words princess…..are we fighting? Hmm? Tell me…..” placing a hand on your hip, he starts to motion your body to grind against his crotch as he whispers out the last bit. “Are we fighting?”
Kissing your neck and your chest, he takes advantage of the slight plunging neckline your dress displayed and licks the surface of your cleavage. It all felt so….
“Yeah? You like that don’t you? Wanna moan some more?” rubbing your wrist with his thumb, he maintains his hold on you, keeping your strong arm restrained as he increases the momentum of your movements, steering you to move back and forth, up and down, and in circular motions.
“Tell me baby….since we’re fighting…tell me what I gotta do to fix it…tell me.” 
Kissing your neck, moving your hips, whispering his dark and deep tone against your neck, sending the vibrations of his vocal chords to travel all the way down to your gut, you whimpered out as the sensual feeling of his harden member pressing against your core, barely covered by the thin fabric of your panties, was starting to create a euphoric friction that you couldn’t help but surrender to.
“Come on baby…tell me what I gotta do to fix it….so we can get along…”
Rubbing his hands and massaging them on your waistline, he finally releases your strong arm, only it was too late….for you.
Already too deep in, your body yearned and craved more, yet your mind remained strong.
“S-stop……oh God please…..stop.”
“No princess….dont think I will……I don’t think you want me to…..that’s okay because that’s what I’m here for…..”
Raising the hem of our dress up, pulling your straps down, he rolls the material of your slinky dress to collect around your waist as he exposes as much of your body as he possibly could. Loosening his tie, he uses one hand to start unbuttoning his shirt, all the while his other hand kept steering your motions at the hip.
“Boyfriend hasn’t touched you yet…has he?” he whispers against your skin. “I can tell…its obvious its been a while since you’ve had it…..”
Kissing your lips, you felt yourself melting into him as his hands kept roaming. He pulled, dipped, pushed, and rolled your hips into motions that the depths of the ocean couldn’t compare to. Succumbing to the overwhelming pleasures of your body uniting with his, you moaned out in shaking pleasure, while speaking the words that still lingered in your mind, though it was barely there as you felt yourself losing after a sensational rush of moisture gushes out from your walls, your clit throbbing with desire. Still...you gave it your last shot....
“Oh my God…please….please don’t….mmm...Heeseung.....ugh.”
“Come on baby….lets get along....hm?..…..let me beat it up and kiss it better for you....let me say sorry to it with my tongue. Let me fix it for you.” releasing a prolonged sigh against your skin, he chuckles out a low and dark tone, as he spoke out again....
“Let me fix it."
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CHAPTER 6
Authors Notes: Weeeelllll, shits about to get real from here on out folks. ;)
Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry@honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07@raishaii@yangjungwon33 @lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @browsehnnie @prettykia @lprww @they2luv1naia @ellixqz@mimimovv @stvrryhee @moonmoongi @seungjiseyo @csmicvrse @yohanabanana
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takiki16 · 4 months
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Hey so I am starting to get into Jupiter Ascending fandom (a couple years late but what can I say). I was thinking of writing a fic. Do you have any resources for JA extra information?
Thanks in advance. Also I am loving your fic (it's how I started getting into the fandom lololol). can't wait to reread!!!
HOOOOOOO BOY!!!!
I'm paging @bemusedlybespectacled, @gallifreyburning, @vr-trakowski, @sorrelchestnut, @florentinequill, @fuckyeahjupiterascending, @vrabia, and honestly ANYONE ELSE who wants to chime in here, bc HOOOOOOO BOY!
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(I made that sweet puppy in fucking 2015 on my dying laptop in the travel study dorm in DC, JUPITER ASCENDING HOW I LOVE THEE)
The eternal fucking tragedy of Jupiter Ascending is that the wider world doesn't love it like we do. Does it have every single thing that turns my crank, id-wise? Sure! Does it have gorgeous over-the-top sequined costumes and extravagant set pieces that remind you at every minute that this movie specially thanked Swarovski Crystal in the credits? Sure! Does it have theeeee single most pinpoint reading of MY PERSONAL FEMALE GAZE that Channing Tatum has ever done? (sorry mister Magic Mike, but you do not even come CLOSE to "may I kill him?" in terms of sexy) SURE! Was this movie a commercial or critical success? Absolutely not 😔
There isn't, as far as I'm aware, an art book. There isn't an official novelization. There isn't even an actual script posted to the usual internet databases that isn't just an automatic shitty talk-to-text rendition of the movie dialogue. There are concept art paintings and old cast interviews floating around, and this auction website where the Wachowskis auctioned off some of the props from the movie, but as far as canon resources and extra material beyond the movie itself there isn't much. A quick duckduckgo search would probably be more helpful to you than anything else, if any of the websites still have the articles up - it WAS eight years ago, and doesn't that just break my fucking heart.
My corner of tumblr LOVED this movie. In 2015, there were TONS of posts gathering interviews, posting concept art, making cosplays, all the signs of a small but healthy fandom ecosystem. However, we call this the blue hellsite for a reason - not all of those resources are still there, and the ones that survived time and incompetent archival site coding are probably difficult to find. I would definitely recommend trawling the JA tags of all the blogs I tagged at the start of this post, as JA introduced me to two of my longest and most beloved of all mutuals. ALL of their insights were key to A Fine Chain.
There is also my own jupiter ascending tag and my more specific jupiter ascending meta tag, although I don't know how bored you are lol. The general JA tag is 105 pages - I would almost recommend just starting at page 105 and working forward from there since it chronicles my descent into kinky space angel werewolf brain rot pretty nicely. There are also my ao3 bookmarks for JA.
I WILL SAY that it has been 8 years, and I have changed into a very different person than the one I was when I first saw this movie. I don't REGRET the first few chapters of A Fine Chain, or any of my breathless meta posts, but I do think that if I were to write any of them over again, I'd hope that my writing style has matured and I'd have lots more extra material to draw from. Actually graduating from law school, writing long fic in another fandom, and generally percolating more as a person has given me lots of new perspectives on JA that make it more interesting even as I still enjoy it (for example, HBO's Succession is ODDLY RELEVANT and I wish there were more JA fanwriters to take advantage of that fact).
...I hope that was helpful? I will ETERNALLY mourn the fact that this fandom wasn't isn't bigger - we haven't even broken 1k on ao3! But EYE MYSELF am here to discuss JA stuff as long as this weird spurt of creative energy sustains me, and my inbox is always open!
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samarecharm · 1 year
Text
Ryuji learns immediately that Akira is a little food goblin and in the worst way possible 😭 He eats literally anything, he doesnt attempt to ‘chef up’ anything he cooks. He draws the line at expired food but the food he makes for himself looks so fucking sad (ryujis words) that it might as well be garbage. And its not that Akira Wont cook or is averse to Learning how to cook, hes just. Busy. And he really doesnt balk at what most would consider bad tasting food. But ryuji does!!! He DOES balk!!!! He balks alot in fact! So while he knows he himself is not the Best cook in the world, he IS someone raised by his momma, and he will use everything she taught him to make food that Akira will ACTUALLY like and not just tolerate.
So he takes Akira food shopping in the market, picks out vegetables and spices and meats that Akira admits (embarrassed) he has never touched in his life. He tells Akira what to look for in markets, whats normally in season, what the appropriate prices are, what different cuts of meat are meant for, and Akira follows him like a toddler following their mother, looking at the displays listening intently. Hes a smart kid. Scary smart. And he picks and chooses whats worth investing into, whether Ryuji realizes it or not. So Akira listens and absorbs whatever Ryuji is telling him, bc Ryuji matters to him.
Ryuji has him on prep work duty. He shows Akira the easy way to chop and cube vegetables. Remembers halfway through that Akira is actually wicked scary with a blade; shows him a video of a professional cutting celery at lightning speed and is SO excited to see Akira replicate it near perfectly. Hes like a machine; chopping with such laser precision and Akira cannot help but feel a little bit warm when Ryuji openly compliments him
Ryuji is so loud and brash everywhere but the kitchen. Hes focused in a way Akira has never seen him be; listing off instructions and tips, carefully adding ingredients and measuring things by eye. While making the stew, he blanks on the amount of seasoning he should be adding, and before Akira can try to help him rubberduck, Ryuji video calls his mom. And Akira almost panics bc what if she was asleep? Or what if shes working??? But she picks up after two rings, wearing a nightgown and smiling huge and wide into the camera. Ryuji waves at her, and then moves the phone a bit to get Akira into frame. He does a very chill, not at all panicked and anxious wave and she smiles at him too.
Ryuji shows her the pot stewing and she comments on the coloring and texture of it. She pokes fun at him (‘oo did you go to a fancy market? Those beef cuts looks very nice’) to which ryuji waves her off, used to her teasing.
‘Have that young man try to season it; this is a team effort!’ And so Ryuji props the phone up so that she can see him and Akira by the stove top as she guides them. A sprinkle of this seasoning from top to bottom, yes perfect, and a pinch of that seasoning- ehh a little more than that- okay perfect, and add a ton of that seasoning in front of you- more. More. Ryuji I said a Ton, tell him i said a Ton- oh right he can hear me I SAID ADD A TON- okay thats it i think, if it comes out too salty, scoop some out and replace it with more stock or some water.
And from then on Ryuji just chats with his mom while Akira watches from his side of the counter; Ryuji mentions the nice lake that he wants to try fishing at, and some nice natural paths to run on in the mornings, and she tells him about her shift and the movie she saw the other day with some friends. Its very nice. It comes so easy to them; Akira cant remember the last time he got to hear his mom just chat about her life with him. Kinda hurts, but not really. Not when hes got Sojiro calling him, telling him about his day while Akira tinkers about at his desk. Its basically the same thing; even better when Akira thinks about it.
And then he thinks some more. And into the realization that Ryuji is here with him in his house cooking and relaxing and chatting with his mom. The tv is on in the livingroom buzzing at a volume thats barely audible. The setting sun is peaking through the curtains. His mom makes a snide comment about her coworker that makes Ryuji laugh a bit under his breath, and Akira is like. Painfully aware of how nice this feels. Warm and easy. It feels a bit silly to even say it but it feels domestic; it feels like home. And hes always been here, always lived here, but it didnt feel like Home as much as it did in this moment, with Ryuji idly chatting with his mom as he tended to the pot on the stove. He wants to capture this moment and keep it tucked away somewhere. And later on, when hes staring at the ceiling, head swimming as he tries to fall asleep, he’ll think ‘no. I dont want to just have this moment. I want more moments like this. I want to live in these moments again and again and again.’ Hes greedy like that, he thinks. He wants and wants and wants; wants so bad it makes his chest ache.
The stew comes out good. A bit salty, which Ryuji remedies by adding a bit more stock to the pot after theyve had their servings. Akiras face is a mix of childlike delight and contentment, eyes bright in that sweet and adorable way that has Ryujis face turning pink, suddenly a bit shy. Being complimented about his cooking is a different kind of nice hes not used to. Akira does a little happy bop with his head, the same bop he’ll do when he eats sweets with Ann.
“This is Really good-‘
“Oi! Please chew everything first before talking.”
Akira thinks its an act of love. In the same way art from Yusuke is an act of love, and the way Hangout Nights with Ann is an act of love; this is Ryujis. I want you to eat well. I want you to be well. Because I care about you. Ryuji cares so much. To come and stay with him. To cook with him, to live with him, even if for a moment. ‘My place…is right at your side.’ ‘Whaddya mean? Youre there.’ Like it keeps Akira up at night sometimes thinking of how much hes loved. It feels so foreign to him, yet natural all at once. Waking up to the rest of the breakfast Ryuji left for him after cooking. Ryuji listening to him ramble about some tech shit Akira knows only he truly cares about (Ryuji pays attention and tries to follow which is more than Akira can ask for). Like its a bit overwhelming but its nice. Its warm and loving and its nice.
Ryuji finds himself napping against Akiras taller frame on the couch, the movie they picked out failing to keep him entertained enough, and Akira thinks Ryuji feels the same way; its warm and loving and nice.
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callmearcturus · 7 months
Note
curious about your on-the-go fic-writing keeb and how it's set up. also the whole switches post gave me the incredible desire for some sort of "what's in my bag" sitch. thank you i liked reading about your switch opinions.
Oh hell yeah sure.
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So my mobile keyboard is amazing.
This is an EPOMAKER NT68. It's a 65% bluetooth keyboard that I have used to, at this point, write about 80% of the PT Benji AU. It's a fucking joy to use.
I got it on sale from Bezo's Store for about 70 bucks (it's 95 right now). At the time, it came with Gateron Blacks installed but literally like seven of the fucking switches had bent pins and had to be replaced. It came with five spare switches so I was p pissed.
Which, I was fine obvsly because I keep buying switches on the cheap.
Okay but about this specific keyboard:
EPOMAKER NT68
Haimu Whisper Silent Tactile switches (which I LOVE, very good feedback without a ton of sound, great of typing at work)
Cannoncaps CXA Superplum (which is to to date the only caps I have ever paid full price for which I should not have done except they might be my Actual Favorite Profile. this is unfortunate bc they fucking never going on sale, but that special spacebar shape is incredible)
my lil vinyl record player artisan was a gift 8) the maker is 2Tcraft on Etsy
What I love about this keyboard is that
It allows for three BT connections at a time, so i can swap from my phone to my home PC to anything else with two buttons
the sound of it on a deskmat is actually one of my favorite noise profiles of any keeb I've used
it is the most portable keeb without going into weird Nuphy keebs (which I did consider a lot) or going Ortho (which I ALSO considered but this was before Akko put out an affordable Ortho option, god bless Akko)
it has a felt magnetic sleeve that can be folded around the keeb to protect it or into a lil triangle to prop your phone on, which I use all the time. when this thing starts wearing out, I will be very sad.
it fits into my cheapass Vera Bradley crossbody bag so i bring it with me everywhere and I have genuinely used it a fucking lot, like a LOT.
it is a major conversation starter, everyone at work wants to know more about it which is fun.
obviously I had switch issues with the stock keeb and had to swap out some non-working switches, BUT the stock is honestly very good otherwise and the caps it comes with feel perfectly fine. you can use them for a while without issue.
some caveats:
this thing is an investment. i told myself that basically this is what my patreon is for and I saved up for a few months to justify it to myself. i'm glad I did it but also Oof That Pricetag.
the software for this thing is fuckign incomprehensible. i have tried many many times to add some hotkeys to it and fucking forget it. I managed to turn off the lights and that's all I'm doing with it. if you want this for coding and need something very easy to add layers to, FUCKING FORGET IT. go get one of Drop's Orthos instead.
sometimes i type too fast for this thing lmao. it doesn't happen often but like if i'm REALLY going max speed, it will every once in a while (like once in a paragraph) miss a key. I'm fine with this because it doens't happen with casual use.
it is portable but you are gonna need to find a bag for it to fit into. It fits perfectly into a Vera Bradley Sling Backpack, which I picked up on clearance from my local Hallmark store oddly enough.
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crimsonedquill · 10 months
Note
Hey there! Just gonna pop in and tell you you're doing god's work! 💚💙 And I'm addicted to Tumblr again bc of your blog lmao
If you're still accepting requests, can we have some sweet, loving and deliciously smutty Imelda x f!mc, except MC is self-conscious about her battle scars and Imelda rushing to console her even if she isn't particularly good at it
A Little Love (Imelda Reyes x f!MC)
I keep insisting this totally isn’t an Imelda Reyes stan blog but then I see another Melly request and it’s like who am I kidding lol
I also say this far too often but I really had a ton of fun with this prompt, it might just be my favourite yet. Imelda x feelings is a combo I’ll never not enjoy writing!
(Also, to the lovely anon who requested a sequel to the smutty shower post, I know this doesn’t technically count but I definitely consider it a spiritual successor 😛)
Content warning: NSFW (18+). Foul language, heavy smut, discussion of feelings.
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MC was lying on her back in the middle of the big four-poster bed when she heard wet footsteps approaching from the adjacent bathroom. She looked up from the book she’d been reading to see Imelda leaning against the doorpost, hair still damp from her shower, wearing nothing but a comfy shirt and a particularly shit-eating grin.
“See anything you like?” MC asked as she returned to her book, her lips forming a smile behind the pages.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” came the retort. “We both know I could get much better.”
“Right. Can’t help but notice you’re standing half-naked in my bedroom, though.”
Imelda left her spot at the door and strode toward the bed, swaying her hips in that especially alluring way she knew MC liked. Sure enough, the girl briefly stole a glance over the cover, though her eyes quickly darted back to the text when the Captain stopped in front of her, hands at her hips. “I do admit you may have certain… redeeming qualities.”
“Uh-huh,” MC said.
“All the studying definitely isn’t one of them, though.” Imelda let herself fall on the bed, plopping her head on MC’s belly. “Fuck’s sake,” she sighed, “You have no idea how horny I am right now.”
MC flipped a page, undisturbed. “So, play with yourself or something.”
“Oh, I just might. I bet you’d love to see me put up a show.” The Slytherin smirked at her, propping herself up on her elbows. “Hey, I have a better idea.”
“What’s that?”
“You dump that stupid book, and I’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk upright for a week.”
“Merlin,” MC laughed, “never really been one for romance, have you?”
Imelda rolled her eyes. “Okay. How about, “I wish to consummate our love, you stuck-up precious bitch”?”
MC giggled again. As far as love confessions went, this was probably the best she could get from Slytherin’s finest.
“Whad’ya say, though?” Imelda asked, eagerly nuzzling her tummy. “Up for a little girl-on-girl time?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s just so much studying left to do –”
“Fuuuuuuuuck that,” Imelda whined. “Your books always get all of the attention. I think it’s time you gave me some.”
MC smirked. Annoying Imelda Reyes would never not be one of her favourite pastimes. “Someone’s sounding a little needy.”
“Damn right I do. I’m a needy little love sponge. And I need you to soak me.”
All right, that had no business sounding as hot as it did. It probably also didn’t help that she’d been feeling a twitching down in her core since the moment Imelda had appeared in the doorway, practically looking ready to jump her right then and there. Not that she’d ever admit the Slytherin had that effect on her. She wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Imelda lightly caressed her through her sweater, correctly having read her lack of response. MC murmured, adjusting her hips a little. She felt a couple of fingers trying to sneak under the garment and quickly moved her hand to intercept them. “The top stays on.”
Imelda huffed something, too impatient to put up much of a fight. MC knew she had every right to complain. They’d had sex before, but it had never gotten to the point where MC had felt comfortable enough to go completely bare. There had always been stupid reasons, silly excuses, even the occasional argument. But Imelda had never pressed her.
Sometime, they would figure it out together, she decided. For now, however, Imelda seemed content, quickly hooking her fingers into the waistband of her trousers before slipping them over her hips. Her eyes lit up at her find.
“Oh, you lying –” she cursed triumphantly, “you are dripping like a good little bitch.”
Indeed she was. In fact, now that her cunt was exposed to her partner’s gaze, MC felt just how much she was throbbing, folds thick and swollen with desire. Imelda placed her hands in her thighs, slowly forcing them apart, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin. MC was glad the book was hiding most of the dark flush that was suddenly creeping up her cheeks. Not that she doubted for a second that Imelda knew exactly what she was doing; the mischievous smirk as she was drawing small circles around the rim of her achingly hot cunny said as much.
“You want this, don’t you?” the Slytherin teased, bringing up a finger, tip coated in slick. The other brushed ever so closely past her damp folds, causing a shiver to course through MC’s body. She simply nodded, lest her shaky breath would betray just how much she was dying for Imelda’s touch –
Another menacing chuckle, another brush against her tender lips. Fucking hell, there were days when she really wanted to curse Imelda’s proficiency in girl pussy – she knew she could keep this up all day if she wanted to, just edging her until she was a hot mess, begging for release.
“I guess I could give you what you need, but, oh, I don’t know,” Imelda mused. “What’s in it for little old me?”
Of course. Everybody knew Imelda Reyes didn’t do favours. Normally MC wouldn’t be so quick to indulge her, but she was bloody aching and she wanted to get off –
“Please…” she murmured from behind the book.
Imelda traced another circle, chuckling to herself. “I’m sorry, what’s that?”
MC dropped the book to shoot her a glare. “Would you please fuck my pussy alr –”
But the rest of her plea was lost in a powerful moan as her mouth fell open, eyes widening.
Ooooooooooh fuuuuuuuuuuuu –
It was good. So good. Imelda had plunged two of her fingers inside of her, cutting off her breath and sending her into a delightful fit. She shuddered as the digits dipped past her folds, sliding inside, sliding home.
“Bloody hell, I can tell how much you’ve missed me,” Imelda said, almost in wonder. Merlin, yes, she didn’t even realise how much she had been yearning for the feeling, but all of that didn’t matter now; Imelda had her, she had her now and she wouldn’t stop until MC was screaming her name –
MC whined softly, chest rising, book slipping out of her fingers and landing on the ground with a thud. Imelda smiled up at her, beginning to pump at a slow pace to let her acclimatise to the rhythm. Hell, if only MC realised how much this was turning her on, having her completely at her mercy, dictating every pulse, every twitch, every component of her pleasure. She felt heat beginning to build up between her own legs as she watched the girl writhe and twist on her fingers.
“Such a good, tight pussy,” Imelda cooed. “So fucking wet for me.”
She twisted her fingers, curling them inside of MC so she could reach that special little spot that always made her squirm. As she had predicted, it didn’t take long for her effort to be rewarded with a whimper and a gush of sweet juice spilling from MC’s fleshy curtains.
“That’s it,” she hissed contently. Fuck almighty, she had to get in on this somehow. Without losing pace for even a second, she wrestled her undies down past her knees and climbed on top of MC’s thigh, letting out a groan of relief as her heat was met with some much-needed friction. She began rocking back and forth, wetness spilling out of her, eyes burning lustfully as she fingerbanged MC nice and hard.
MC was beyond words. Her head had fallen to the side, eyes closed, lips mouthing silent curses as she fought back against the rising tide of her orgasm. She didn’t want this to end, fuck, she wanted to feel like this forever, she wanted to be fucked right out her senses, and then she wanted Imelda’s mouth on her until the sun came up and then she wanted oh fuck fuck fuck –
“Come on then, bitch,” Imelda growled between her own gasps, “you know I won’t stop until I’ve got you spitting over my fingers like a sweet little –”
That did it. MC came, clamping down on Imelda’s fingers, a strained cry slipping through her lips as electric waves rippled up from her core. The Slytherin looked on in awe her back arched up from the bed, the sweater slipping back to reveal just a tiny inch of marked flesh – wait, was that…
But then MC collapsed back again. Imelda waited a moment before she withdrew her fingers, the digits making a lewd sloshing sound as a blob of MC’s girly juices trickled from her well-fucked hole. Neither of them spoke as they sat there, air thick with the musky scent of sex and the sound of their breathing. Imelda noticed she she was more preoccupied with her new discovery than the fact that that she hadn’t even achieved her own climax yet. She had never told her about the scars. Why had she never told her about the scars?
As she managed to recover her breath, MC lifted her head to flash her a weak smile. Imelda didn’t return it. Without warning, she suddenly reached for MC’s sweater and gave it a yank, causing the girl to back away from her with a gasp. She drew her knees up to her chest and looked at her, breathing heavily, eyes wide.
“When were you planning on telling me?” Imelda asked, sounding betrayed.
MC seemed at a loss of words. She was clearly panicking, stuttering as she frantically searched for an excuse. “Mel, I –”
“‘Cause these aren’t new,” Imelda interrupted, pointing to her stomach. “Is that why you always weasel out when I want to see you? Are you saying you don’t trust me?”
“No, Mel, t-that’s not it at all –” MC sighed, casting her eyes down. “Look, I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to do it now –”
Imelda shrugged, crossing her arms. Maybe she should have felt bad for more or less ambushing MC during what was clearly a vulnerable moment, but either way, she wasn’t feeling any hint of shame. “Might as well. Who knows, I could reward you with another fuck when you’re done confessing, since you seem to think that’s all I’m good for.”
MC’s eyes suddenly shot up again, her tone shifting. “Really? You’re not sure you’ve got that backwards?”
Imelda frowned. “Huh?”
“Because that’s exactly the reason I was afraid to tell you,” MC continued. “Look, Mel, I – I think you’re great. I think the sex is great. But I keep wondering if that’s literally all there is to… us. Our relationship. To be honest, most of the time I can’t even tell if you’re in love with me or with my body.”
The words lingered, prickling, stinging. Imelda felt something unpleasant crawling up inside her chest. She wanted to say something, but her mind had trouble stringing together her thoughts. That wasn’t true – she didn’t think of MC that way, did she?
“I didn’t want you to know because –” MC hesitated, but then said firmly, “Because I thought you’d lose interest if you knew.”
Oh, shite. This couldn’t be happening. Imelda squeezed her eyes shut, sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, tried to gather her thoughts. “Fucking hell, MC.”
“You wanted to know. Now you do.” MC sat silently, still holding her knees as she waited for the Slytherin’s response. There was nothing more left to say, no more secrets. Whatever was coming, she would face it.
“I – I don’t –”
Imelda growled, frustrated with herself. She never got tongue-tied, so why was she doing it now? Pull yourself together, Reyes.
“I don’t love your body,” she muttered, before correcting herself. “No, I mean, I do love your body, but I also love you and… fuck, you know what I mean.”
MC was still looking at her, her expression unchanging. She took a deep breath and tried again.
“What I mean to say is – yes, okay, I like sex. Sex is nice, it’s simple. I’ve never cared much for sappiness, the pet names and flowers and holding hands, because you know, there’s always… more. I suppose I just… I’m afraid to get bogged down in stupid shite and commitments I don’t want.”
Hell, that couldn’t have come out crappier even if she had wanted to. She quickly tried to think of something else to say, but then MC suddenly took her hand. “I understand.”
Imelda looked at her, confused. “You do?”
“Of course. Merlin, I was surprised when you took an interest in me in the first place. The great Imelda Reyes, stooping to the level of such a measly peasant –”
“Oh, fuck you.”
MC chuckled. “But, you know, it’s all right. I never expected you to ask for my hand in marriage. You have your life, and I have mine. Though, that doesn’t mean we couldn’t get a little… intimate when we have each other to ourselves.”
Her thumb lightly stroked Imelda’s hand, the simple gesture doing more to excite her than she’d ever expected. She suddenly realised they were both still bare past their navels, her pussy immediately throbbing at the thought.
The expression on MC’s face bore something soft, something tender. It was as if Imelda only now realised how utterly beautiful she was. She swiftly moved in at her own volition, and just like that their lips were moving together, tongues meeting in a delicious kiss. Imelda slipped a hand underneath MC’s sweater, lips curling at her being rewarded with a soft moan. She spent a few moments palming the naked flesh before moving in with her other hand. MC shivered as she was relieved of the garment, though she wasn’t afraid – not anymore.
Imelda cooed with delight as she drank in MC’s naked torso; the embroidery of scars etched into her abdomen and arms, and then her breasts, beautiful curves ending into pink nipples. She didn’t know what all the fuss had been about, MC looked fucking hot. She was barely able to contain herself as she bent over and pressed her face between MC’s tits, devouring them with a ravenous hunger. The girl threw her head back, whimpering as Imelda kissed and suckled on the tender flesh, taking one of her nipples between her teeth to tug at it.
The sounds MC was making shattered the last of her resolve. That was it, she had to feel her. Quickly pulling back to throw off her own shirt, Imelda rushed to return to MC’s warmth, letting out a relieved groan as their tits started rubbing together, bodies slick with sweat.
“So pretty,” she gasped, “so fucking pretty,”
MC smiled at her, bringing a hand around to pull her down into another feverish kiss. She brought up her hips, essentially locking Imelda in place as they continued rutting in their sweet embrace. It was pretty damn perfect. As she moved, Imelda imagined she could even slide into her own release if they kept going like this, though then her lust-fuelled mind conceived of a better idea.
Wrestling herself free, she sat upright as MC looked at her with questioning eyes. “Patience,” she smirked as she seized MC’s legs and started repositioning herself. It took her a while to find a satisfying configuration, but eventually she managed to bring herself into a good position, her aching cunt just inches away from MC’s.
A sigh of relief fell from her lips as their slick cores finally came together. She quickly started scissoring, their folds producing a series of increasingly wet sounds as they rubbed against each other. They quickly mixed with the moans and whines from the two girls, joining as one in their experience of nothing but pure bodily ecstasy.
Imelda was seeing stars. She’d always loved physicality, whether it was punishing her body during a Quidditch match or rubbing one out when she was feeling needy. This, however, this felt… amazing. It was as if she was experiencing MC in a whole new realm of pleasure, feeling everything from her frantic breath to the muscles moving underneath her damp skin to her clit brushing against her own –
As much as she had resisted the idea, she had to admit that making love did seem to have some benefits.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a particularly loud cry from MC. “M-Melly,” she whimpered, “c-close…”
Imelda, too, sensed her own climax approaching, waves of heat welling up from the place where they connected through their slick.
“Good girl,” she purred. “Come for me…”
It took just a few more ruts for MC to crash over the edge; her own release followed suit, arriving in a paralysing surge of pure pleasure that had her choke back a loud roar. She collapsed on top of MC, letting her head fall in the crook of her neck. MC held her close, whispering soothing words to her as she trembled with aftershocks.
After they had recovered from their respective mind-shattering orgasms, they settled into a spooning position, MC wrapping herself in Imelda’s embrace. They lay silently for a while, until MC spoke up: “So… how was that for you?”
“Still weird as hell, I’ll admit,” Imelda replied. “But I think I’m coming around.”
MC chuckled. “As long as we aren’t discussing feelings, clearly.”
“Hey, I was making an honest effort there, bitch.”
“I know.” MC turned to kiss her on the lips. “I love you, okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Imelda wrapped an arm around her, pulling her bare frame closer against her own. “Let’s go to sleep, I’m tired.”
Closing her eyes, MC prepared herself for her venture into nightly depths, enjoying the feeling of Imelda’s warm body. She’d surely have thought the Slytherin was fast asleep the moment she had gone silent, but then came Imelda’s voice: “MC?”
“Hm?”
“I love you too.”
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stromuprisahat · 1 year
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I sometimes read anti Darkling posts for fun, just to see what reasons they have, and I saw a post that said that the Grisha ‘aren’t an allegory for oppressed minority’.
https://www.tumblr.com/wlwocprincess/710154380240994304/very-weird-how-that-mans-stans-act-like-the-show?source=share
Very weird how That Man’s Stans act like the show is “anti Grisha propaganda” and treat Grisha as an actual oppressed group of people that exist in real life in order to take it as face value as an allegory for real life oppression when there’s already tons of reasons to criticize oppression allegories that are “people with supernatural abilities that can kill people are the most oppressed group and are headlined by mostly white cishet able bodied characters that’s been done to death” therefore Leigh must be anti liberation for actual oppressed groups of people (and then proceed to talk over her as a Jewish disabled woman and insist that she “should know better” and make oppressed Grisha edits with Holocaust movie clips) when it’s established in the Grishaverse that real life oppressions still exist such as ableism, classism, racism (made an even bigger theme in the show), and xenophobia still exist within the universe alongside Grisha oppression but are treated very differently and a huge part of why that man’s philosophy doesn’t work is bc he’s privileged in every other way and therefore doesn’t care, in the show, he is even condescending towards Alina about it and undermines the racism and classism she’s been facing her whole life to prop up his goals and his point of view as a white man who’s never been in the body of an orphaned woman of color.
In short:
It's not oppression, because it's not real, and they could physically slaughter their enemies (if they're powerful enough), so they're obviously unbulliable.
LB is "Jewish disabled woman", therefore can do (or write) no wrong.
If you're "white", healthy etc. you cannot be oppressed.
The Darkling is somehow privileged... Not sure how...
Completely made up scenes that never happened in the show...
Realistic politics and nuance in a straightforward romance sprinkled with colour-coded racism?!
Not on MY WATCH!
Idk, why you bother reading that shit. At least this one isn't stupid enough to spam our tag... (Or I have her blocked...)
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twosroos · 2 years
Text
Attempting
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roos says ! is this in character? no idea. rooster plays a big role here bc i can imagine him being fed up with everyones shit very quickly. also fanboy playing guitar is such a good idea i love it. also this being called 'how guitar??' in my docs is rlly funny to me, thought I'd share :)
desc ! you've worked at the Hard Deck for a few years now, and everyday you swear you fall more in love with your job. Little do you know, the Daggers are enacting a plan on Fanboy's behalf-- an attempt to swoon you with live music.
genre ! pure fluff baby
TWs: drunkenness, cursing
Being a server at The Hard Deck was probably one of the best post-college decisions you had made. In the past three years that you'd worked there, Penny had become more of a mother than a boss, and your co-workers were like sisters. The restaurant was one hundred percent your second home, and if you found yourself bored at home, there was always something to be done there. It was not the only job you had, freelance didn't pay consistently enough though, so you found yourself working at both The Hard Deck and a small boat rental company on the shore for vacationing families in San Diego. Moving to California right after graduation was the worst post-college decision you had made. Rent was high, jobs were hard to come by, and even with your three roommates in your two-bedroom apartment, you still struggled to make every end meet. But you made it work, with the help of your co-workers, your perseverance, and a shit-ton of luck you somehow had. The day was winding to an end, the golden sun cresting over the ocean and shimmering the day's goodbye across the sky in vibrant hues. You snuck a picture on your phone, sending it to your roommates with an inside joke caption before you shoved it in your apron and adjusted your shirt. The low-cut v-necks were a new uniform piece, and optional compared to the usual button-up shirts or the custom company tees. The cut didn't bother you, but, as you served around a group of regulars-- the Iron Daggers, you'd come to call them, since it was their Squadron's nickname, you caught the eyes of the man who simply would not stop staring at you since you'd served him months ago. Fanboy, his name tag read, and luckily for you, it was a busy Saturday, so you didn't have to keep his dark eyes gaze with his soft grin pushing up his tanned cheeks, and ugh, why was he so... perfect? 
He was nice, you'd spoken a few times. He was from New Hampshire, hated the cold, and moved to California the second he got the opportunity to. He was in the Navy now, and you respected his line of work but weren't the type to settle down. Even years after graduating with a master's degree in Architecture, you still needed to land a solid job you could keep. And nothing in this area was lasting you longer than six months, or it paid job-to-job, which you fucking hated. Sure, it was nice to have a couple of thousand dollars dropped in at once, but it wasn't sustainable for your compulsive buying habits.
You made your way back to the servers station, tugging up the v-neck and huffing, reminding yourself mentally to wash your other work shirts when you got home. As you stood on your toes to grab a pitcher, someone else kicked open the swinging door and groaned as they set down the various plastic baskets of fries on the dish shelf.
"How long do you think we'll go until the jukebox gets shuts off?" A fellow server, Savannah, asks as she starts dumping the fries into the trash and the plastic bins into a dish tray. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a perfect ponytail, the whispy hairs framing her face. She always looked so flawless, it made you a bit jealous, but you knew she'd taken a lot of time to care for and nurture her look. She did a wonderful job.
"Give them two rounds." Amelia comments from the other side of the server station, she's propped up on a counter, idly typing away on her laptop with one earbud in. You chuckle to yourself as you carry the two pitchers in one hand over to the other side of the kitchen, throwing a towel over your shoulder as you grab ice from the cooler and a scoop for the ice. You bend over to begin filling up your pitchers.
"Your mom would be pissed if she saw you on that counter, Amelia." You comment, moving the full pitcher to the side as you fill the other. Savannah walks over to a small mirror in the station and adjusts her hair and makeup as she chuckles along to your comment. 
Amelia pointedly rolls her eyes, "She's with Maverick today."
"Oh god, another woman lost to the Navy." Savannah salutes and you blow a huff out of your nose with a smirk, rolling your eyes as you use a small "drink gun" (which was essentially a soda fountain in a hose) to fill your pitchers. The six kids there were absolutely downing every small cup you gave them, so this would be easier, for you and their parents who had to flag you down every five seconds.
"Be careful, Y/n might be next." Amelia looks at you over her laptop screen, "I saw Fanboy checking you out."
"That's a him issue." You say, "And I refuse to date Navy."
Savannah turns back to you with an overexaggerated pout, "Awe, why not? Fanboy's cute!"
"Nope, no Navy." You say, and then you perk up when you realize the music had stopped at some point during your conversation, "Are the Daggers on their first round still?"
"Just got the second from Macie at the bar. Shit, it took that little time?"
"Unsurprising." Amelia smiles, putting her second earpod in. You grab both of the pitchers, shrugging to Savannah in a sort of 'we knew this would happen gesture which she giggles at before you dip out of the kitchen with the pitchers in hand.
Now, what usually happened when the jukebox got unplugged was Rooster would saunter over to the piano and serenade everyone with Great Balls of Fire. But that was not what was happening, because someone was playing the guitar.
Who the fuck brought their guitar to a dive bar?
You recognized the tune immediately though, it's 'I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For,' a song you'd loved for as long as you could remember, and you recalled you'd been humming it only an hour or so ago when the Iron Daggers had first walked in. Which you only remembered because Fanboy had commented on it then. As you set the pitchers down at the table of kids, the Mom smiles.
"Those aviators always surprise me with their talents." She whispers as if trying not to interrupt the pretty acoustics. You can't help but agree, watching the mostly tipsy aviators sing and sway over by the piano's nook. Rooster joins on piano, and the whole bar starts to hum along. It's a lot slower than usual, but the joy in singing and being together is clear on everyone's smiling faces.
Then, you realize who's playing guitar as you see his eyes meet yours across the dimly lit bar.
"I didn't know he could play." You say the mother and she smiles, turning to her husband and singing as you find yourself entranced as you slowly move a bit closer to where the aviators sit. Fanboy plays the guitar nimbly, his fingers not once dragging along the frets as he strums the tune out. Subconsciously, you smile, before realizing just how long you've held eye contact and breaking it in favor of slipping away and further into the bar.
--
The next time the daggers are in the bar, Phoenix, Halo, and Coyote are seated at the bar while you're working behind it. The three have ordered enough alcohol to support a small army, which you assume is the pilots behind them, plus a few older pilots you don't recognize. You spot Maverick between two men you don't notice, both have their wives draped lazily on their arms, and pool ques go unused in their hands as they drink and talk with the younger pilots beside them.
"Did Mickey really bring his guitar again?" You hear Coyote ask as you pour him a B52 shot to go with his coffee.
"Head over heels." Halo comments, taking a sip of her cosmo, "He's fuckin' whipped into shape and she has no idea."
"Who do you think it is?" You ask, sliding the shot to Coyote and the look Phoenix and Halo share is enough to cut diamonds. It makes you shift, "Nevermind, the jukebox is currently being unplugged by a drunk mustache man."
"Oh boy." Phoenix takes a long sip of her drink, and her glass sets down on the wooden bar in time with the first strum of a Grenade. You blink, looking across the bar to where you watch the drunk pilots sing together.
"Oh, I love Bruno Mars." You softly muse and Phoenix makes a face at Coyote and Halo that has them both groaning and laying their heads on the bar. You roll your eyes and lean back on the bar, watching the group.
It keeps happening for weeks, every shift you work, at least Hangman, Payback, and Rooster show up with Fanboy. And every time, after Fanboy's had at least two drinks, he plays a song. Sometimes Rooster initiates the song, but the night always starts with beer. Usually either Blue Moon or Bud Light. You find that every shift, you begin to wonder when they'll come in, and every shift you feel yourself slowly spending more and more time by the piano area. You end up getting the front of the house as your section every night, you know Penny does it on purpose.
Tonight's like any other, drunk pilots, bell ringing, spilling beer and soda on your hands and shoes, blue cheese, wing sauce, basically any liquid-like substance making you have to stop and wash your hands a hundred times through the night. But, The Hard Deck closes at midnight, and at around 11:50, all the regulars know to leave. Which makes all the others swarming the bar also want to leave. Tonight seems to be an exception for the Iron Daggers, though. They all hang back by the bar, chatting with Penny and Macie and you find yourself in a gossip circle as you take a stool from the bar and seat yourself. Your closing work is done, and you've done just about everything else for the Sunday night closing work besides mopping the floor, which you have to wait for everyone to leave to start. You have no responsibilities right now, so a soda by the bar won't hurt.
"He won't shut up about it." Phoenix laughs, swirling the wine in her hand. You know it's a local wine from a place Penny had visited in New Jersey years ago based on the fact that you'd heard the woman complaining she needed to sell it all before it went bad and the new shipment came in. And then she'd cursed Navy people for not drinking wine, while you were two glasses in, and you'd laughed so hard you almost puked. It was a... long day.
"Who won't shut up about what?" you ask as you slip behind the bar and use the soda gun to pour yourself a Coke.
"Fanboy's got a massive crush." A very drunk Bob says.
"Shots with Omaha got him again?" Penny teases and Bob crosses his arms before laying his head on them as he grumbles some sort of complaint that makes you laugh softly.
"Anyway, Y/n." Phoenix swats Bob's shoulder, "How do you enjoy serving us every single night?"
"I don't mind, actually. You guys always have something fun going on, and it's entertaining to watch it. Though I'm starting to wonder if all pilots magically have some sort of musical ability," You take a long sip of your drink while Bob laughs, sitting back up, swaying, and then laying back down.
"Only when they're trying to serenade-"
"Floyd." Phoenix cuts him off, "You're terrible at keeping secrets while drunk."
"Oh sorry," Bob says with a flush to his cheeks and a giddy giggle on his lips. You blink away, Savannah taking control of the conversation with a story about a table she had today. You look over to where Fanboy, Hangman, and Rooster sit and talk by the darts. But your eyes narrow when you see Rooster making some sort of vague hand motions at you. Before Fanboy slumps against the table, Hangman laughs.
"Hey, Y/n!" Rooster calls, waving you over, much to the visible dismay of Fanboy. You make your way back around the bar and over to where they sit, swirling your drink in hand.
"Gonna have to kick you boys out as soon as we get Bob a ride home." You say as you walk over, using one hand to adjust your server's aprons, feeling the fabric bump against the few decorative rings you wear.
"Yeah, well Fanboy needs one too." Rooster smacks his shoulder and you give him an odd look.
"Okay..?"
"Y/n. I have a..." Hangman drawls out and you watch as Fanboy's head perks up from where it had previously been buried in his arms, "a question."
"Fire away." You take a sip of your coke.
"Are you free Friday night?" You nearly spit out said coke. It takes you a minute, and a few coughs, to regain your posture.
You clear your throat, taking another sip of Coke to wash down the scratchiness, "Not for you."
"Sucks to suck, bags." Fanboy says and you giggle at his comment when he notices you see his whole face light up red. It looks cute, the way his pupils dilate when you make eye contact, and his insult dies in his throat.
Rooster kicks Hangman under the table, making another vague gesture between you and Fanboy. 
"Yo loverboy," Hangman kicks Fanboy, and Rooster groans, burying his head in his hands, "Follow me up, here, we had a plan."
"A plan?" You say, the three drunk pilots (with Rooster, for once, being the soberest of the group) blinking up at you.
"You ruined it, bagman." Fanboy sits up, brushing a hand through his hair, "I uh... well, I was also wondering if you're free Friday."
"Well, I wish I was. I have work." You say, watching as Fanboy sags, so you keep going, "You can always bring your guitar back around here if you want to hang out a bit."
Rooster's short patience wears out, "Y/n. You're both clueless here. Mickey beside me is askin' you on a date, like a one-on-one thing here."
Oh.
Oh.
"I--" You stammer, but Rooster keeps going.
"He's been spending the past three weeks tryna serenade you or some shit because he claims its super romantic but it literally hasn't worked one time and I'm sick of hearing him complain about it--"
"--Bradshaw!" Phoenix complains from the bar, he pretends to not hear her.
"For the love of god, go on one date with him or something."
"Dude." Fanboy says after a moment, and Hangman has to walk away because he's laughing so hard.
"You've been..." You gesture to Fanboy and he nods, so you turn to Penny who gives you a thumbs up.
"Guess I'm free Friday then." You murmur and he smiles.
--
Every day since then, save for the days of the Uranium Mission and other small deployments, has been a bit of a musical breeze. It's only been two months, but dear god you've never fallen faster for someone. The pilots still come around to the Hard Deck, though, if you're not closing and you get off early, you always end up tucked in a back corner with Fanboy's hand on your waist. It's become routine for you guys to spend time at your house since he lives on base, and his guitar always comes with him. When you're cooking for him on days he comes back from training exhausted, laying around on the couch or outside with him, or with his multitude of friends, there's always a tune playing in your ear.
And honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.
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nerves-nebula · 11 months
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holy
holdy shit
i have a ton of things i want to say so sorry this gets super rambly lmao talking coherently is hard for some reason
anyway! first of all i wanted to say how much i love your characterization? you create such believable and complex characters in a way that i havent really seen before, much less in an au about four ninja turtles. its fantastic, superb, amazing, 10/10 would reread everything you have under this tag again.
(uh tw for this next part? i get a tad tmi so :/)
second of all: woah
your au deliciously reminds me of my childhood in a way that hurts but like in a good way??? like idk why but it especially reminds me of this one childhood memory that i had (which i like to think happened to one of the turtles as well) where i just. had to beg my stepmother for attention, days on end, until she finally sat down and read me a book??? like,,idk one turtle tot will be like "father, read to me" and splinter would do it but not bc he's like a decent person or anything but because hes like "this is what good parents do"
maybe im just projecting lol
third! how do you feel about fanart? I know you've reblogged a lot but idk if your stance has changed on that recently or whatever :/ i dont wanna cross boundaries
thats all! i hope you have a good morning/day/night :3 take care of urself you are so cool and awesome and such an inspiration you got me out of a three month drawing slump so props to you ig *raises glass of chocolate milk*
k thats it fr this time byeee :3
first of all, thank you! i'm flattered.
second, splinter doing things because its "what a good parent would do" and not because he cares its like, one of the first things i ever said about him i think. also you had way more balls that i did as a kid, cause i would just get sad and grumpy about not getting attention but most of the time id be too scared to bother my mom about it cause i was worried she'd yell at me haha. anyway yeah, vibes.
thirdly, i appreciate fanart for sure.
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emypony · 1 year
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Honkai Idol AU
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this is all ur fault @spectral-claws IDOL FELIS BE UPON YE
I will now proceed to go ahead and post my rambles, thank you to @izzyandviolins for letting me ping her all the time and just dump all the brainrots I have whenever
Idk how much sense these will make AND i will put more specific stuff at the end for everyone else who would just like the general AU idea at the start
DISCLAIMER I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT IDOLS OR KPOP GROUPS ASIDE FROM A VERY OUTSIDER PERSPECTIVE OF WHAT I SEE ON MY DASH 🙏
EDIT: This actually got hella long so I will be putting it under a read more, oh my god I am so sorry
Now for the groups:
1. there's obviously our 4 main girls: Kiana, Mei, Bronya and Fu Hua
Himeko is the coach / choreographer, Tesla makes props and Einstein does Costumes / Makeup, Welt is the Manager (this is REALLY. im well aware theres a ton more ppl behind idol / kpop groups but you know its just. ITS JUST WHAT IT IS WITH THE CHARACTERS THAT WE HAVE, OKAY)
2. Senti's main group consisting of!! Senti (obviously), Sirin (HoV), Seele, Veliona (they're a package duo), Sushang and Carole (yes she is here, no I will not elaborate --- ok maybe I will)
3. A few flamechasers: Pardofelis (which is a!!! New Idol!! She's the main focus of this group atm since the stans love her to bits--- catgirl charm. I promise there is a reason for this statement) Elysia, Eden, Mobius (I am not that familiar with her so she would either be part of the group OR maybe act like the on-set medic or whichever), Sakura, Vill V AND Aponia (maybe, there's a 5th group I'm thinking about however it's kind of still an idea so I will leave her here for now)
4. The GuysTM: Kevin, Su (the most marketable out of all of them), Kalpas (shocking, I know. I hc he's in gacha debt from genshin impact) and MAYBE Adam and Lyle but only bc Carole is there I'm putting them with a ?
I don't know where to fit Kosma, Griseo and Teri or Durandal and Rita (im sorry fellas im not that acquainted with them but you're 100% free to suggest something for them)
Now a bit about relationships between members of the groups or other groups:
Seele and Bronya are Dating so Seele (and by extension Veliona) are always hanging out with Bronya's group (though Veli might stay behind sometimes because she gets on relatively alright with Senti)
Sirin and Senti have a one sided rivalry from Sirin because she wants to prove she's the best and always challenges Senti to dance battles or. whatever it is that Kpop / Idols do (idont know dont ask me) but Senti is distracted by her own one sided. Rivalry (and it is NOT towards Fu Hua LOL) They're just dummy but they are a nice combo together when dancing
Speaking of Senti and Fu Hua, I see them like a past dance Duo that was supposed to compliment each other however after Senti was mostly cast and categorized by the fans as a twin / copycat of Fu Hua, she got fed up and went to develop her own solo style. things were mostly tensioned between them however Fu Hua doesn't hold resentment over what Senti did and she also feels like her new spot with Kiana, Mei and Bronya is better, and she also really likes Senti's own evolution apart from her own. Whenever Senti gets dragged along to Kiana's group and meets up with her, she's a bit awkward, but Hua is able to get past that and manages to get her talking (Senti doesn't start a conversation when they meet up, even if she does seek out Hua more than Hua herself, although she doesn't mind. It doesn't take much to go "so what's the recent idol group news" and then Senti goes off abt things the media reports on and other things and. she just starts talking and doesn't stop. Hua listens and gives advice but mostly lets Senti talk about whatever she's dealing with and maybe figure things out on her own by voicing them out loud. She values her as a more awkward friend (compared to her original hard go getter attitude from when they were a duo together) so she doesn't mind listening to her (mostly funny and unhinged) rants about the world of idol / media since she doesnt keep up with whatever drama is going on
+ Senti has got a funny friendly rivalry with Kiana at least and they're able to enjoy themselves ((compared to Sirin and Kiana who have REALLY got their own more serious rivalry))
Mei hangs out with Ely and Eden frequently enough to hold a friendly relationship with them as well as the rest of the flame chasers group and the guys. Elysia keeps begging their managers to let Mei Collab with them much more often.
Carole and Fu Hua go way back before their Idol days and Carole isn't shy whatsoever in jumping Hua whenever she gets the chance. She's way more into fashion and makeup and skincare and all of that and while Hua loves that she's so energetic, she can get a bit much but thankfully Carole knows when to step back a little and focus her energy beam on someone else. (They are great friends that don't talk on the daily but they can catch up without issues)
Li Sushang has a more ... mmm whats the word. Cordial? Relationship with Fu Hua? I'm a bit lost where to place her, mostly because I see her as Fu Hua's dance duo that didn't work out so she got relocated to another group better suited for her style. Unsure if this was before or after Senti teamed up with Hua, but Sushang does hold a bit of animosity towards Senti for that (nothing too bad, but she does wonder how the hell could they have been a dance duo when Senti seems like the complete opposite of Hua in regards to what she does - because she is a little bit crazy at times especially if left alone with Carole). They do have a general ok relationship and Sushang enjoys hanging out with everyone
Senti finds Carole a bit much at times (shocking, I know) but she is fun to hang around with and do mischief (Especially when Veliona joins in. They are banned from the kitchen along with Kiana)
Most of the Flamechasers and the guys keep to themselves BUT Carole will bother Kalpas to no end and he's so pissed off about it except she works out and he cannot beat her in an arm wrestling contest or anything for that matter so he has to rightfully suffer the wrath of a girl with 17 steps of bedtime skincare routine <3
NOW HERE IS WHERE WE GET INTO THINGS THAT ARE INCREDIBLY SELF INDULGENT FOR ME mostly because they are Sentifelis so. I do apologize but also I tried to keep most of it towards the end
OK SO AS I'VE SAID PARDO IS A NEW ADDITION TO THE FLAMECHASERS IDOL GROUP AND THE STANS ARE OBSESSED WITH HER !!! She's literally a catgirl with a cute aesthetic, it's a recipe for success
the funniest part: SENTI HATES HER (at the beginning at least) because until her, she was kind of one of the top spots on the 'idol leaderboard' or whatever (idk if thats a thing, people like diff idols / kpop artists etc but like. POPULARITY POLL?) and she's out there with Elysia BUT AS SOON AS FELIS CAME SHE JUST BULLDOZED RIGHT THROUGH ALL OF THAT and she's UPSET (or thinks she is anyway)
Fans also started comparing them a lot because of their different dance styles - Senti has more of a street dance type, and Felis is good at doing very fluid motions (mostly because of her tail) and fans love them both
Felis actually admires Senti so much as a fellow idol and somehow even after working with the group for a while she doesn't get to meet Senti at all and that's kind of her dream she just wants to 🥺befriend Senti she thinks shes SO cool
Senti would rather die before admitting that she actually thinks that Felis is really cute and isn't surprised that she's garnered such a large fanbase even though she hasn't worked as an idol for as long as the others, she finds her dance moves really nice ESPECIALLY because of her tail. BUT SHE IS GOING TO DENY THESE TILL THE END OF TIME (or so she claims) -
Like Sirin will just come to her on the daily to ask to practice and dance battle and will get completely brushed aside. See:
Sirin: "Today i will!! finally be top center stage instead of Senti!! i will finally beat her in the popularity poll!" She tries to get a rise out of Senti by claiming she is better and such but there's nothing, because Senti is just. too busy scrolling on her FYP on Tik Tok.
Senti: "Can you believe people made Fancams of Pardofelis AGAIN??? WHAT DOES SHE HAVE THAT I DON'T!! I HATE HER SO MUCH!!" (real 100% not clickbait) SHES TOO BUSY GOING OFF ABOUT "HATING" THE MEOW MEOW
Veliona: "you watched like 20 different fucking fancams. i thought you hated her"
Senti: "I DO I HATE HER SO MUCH ugh look at how they added a green sparkles and a neon cat ears and whiskers filter to this one. She looks way better in pink."
Sirin: "STOP LOOKING AT FANCAMS AND DO A DANCE BATTLE WITH ME RIGHT NOW!!!" *gets ignored*
Veliona, giving a look to Seele who just smiles and waves her hand to leave them be (insert 'I know what you are' dog meme here): 🧍‍♀️
I'm not sure if this ever happens in kpop 'biz' but imagine the 4 groups end up under the same publishing company so now they will all be living closer to each other (I have no idea wtf housing looks like for kpop stars or idols LOL) and collab more often and just meet at the workplace. SENTI HATES THIS OBVIOUSLY and like!! Felis definitely notices the cold shoulder she is given 🥺. She tries to say hi to Senti because she's super excited but Senti thinks she's just there to. Like show off that she's somehow better?? With her cute flicking ears and waving tail and her painted nails and her mismatched stockings BYE Senti cannot deal with this (she is confused and just hides it all behind an unfriendly facade)
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Poor Felis is sad because she thinks she's done something wrong and she was so looking forward to meet Senti 😭😭😭
The same kind of behavior continues, because Senti can't really bring herself to be mean to Felis and tell her to get lost (especially when she's got that sad puppy look on her face) and always attempts to flee to another place instead. Their fellow idol coworkers DO notice, but most of them console Felis and say that's how Senti usually is with newcomers and that maybe she will warm up with time.
BONUS: There is a tiny part of the fandom shipping them - as you would and while they never got to get an interview from Felis about it, Senti is SHOCKED to find out that there's ppl making fics and fanart AND FANCAMS OF THEM (which are mostly taped together bc there's barely any interaction between them in media lmao). Like who in their right mind!! This is inconceivable to her!! She is so pissed about that too bc shes like "WHY ISNT PARDOFELIS SAYING ANYTHING TO THE PRESS ABOUT IT ... WE ARE NOT A THING!! WTF!! THIS IS ALL HER FAULT" (does not actually think its her fault and actually wonders where the fuck did fans get that impression but people will be people. ALSO no I don't condone rpf or any of that with actual real people, these r just fictional characters. and this is fanfiction inside a fanfiction)
Meanwhile I believe Felis would have a secret account on all social medias at least taking a look at that side of their fandom / fanbase and seeing what the people think in regards to that (she cant figure out why Senti won't be her friend, so maybe others will??? The theories and speculations people come up with are so funny though)
Afterwards, I would love to have them all taking a trip somewhere - to ... celebrate the fact that the companies and groups have merged or whatever (preferably the woods or. SOMEPLACE. Maybe with Caves? Yeah I'm pulling the 'stuck in a cave with no reception' trope on them, what will you do about it?) and that's how they finally get to have a 1 on 1 together, mostly because Felis is going to get a bit scared and thinks there's no way out of there.
Felis: "oh my god im too young to die!!! i didnt even get your autograph yet in my journal And I still have curry leftovers in my fridge that I didn't eat and I was so looking forward to them!!!"
Senti: "what."
Felis: "what ?"
Senti: "You...want my autograph?"
Felis: "Of course!! 🥺👉👈you're my biggest inspiration I admire your dance moves so much you look SO good on the screen and in concerts I I don't know how you do it I freak out all the time and think people can notice it BUT YOU LOOK SO CALM AND COMPOSED AND COOL-" and she has to stop herself because she's gushing dfjkghfd
and oh. okay maybe. MAYBE SENTI WAS HATING ON HER FOR NO REASON ACTUALLY...
With this they finally have a heart to heart and Senti apologizes for being so cold to Felis, she (begrudgingly) admits that she felt kind of threatened by Felis's onset popularity from the get go. Felis doesn't mind at all and is rather relieved that Senti doesn't ACTUALLY hate her and now they can be !!! friends!!! (Senti is actually overjoyed at their new friendship and hopes to hang out with her a lot more BUT she's incredibly trash at managing her feelings so it still comes off across as a little aloof and 'well, whatever...' but Felis doesn't seem to register that at all and has now resorted to holding Senti's hand because THEY ARE STILL TRAPPED IN A SCARY CAVE AND IT'S DARK
Obviously they are rescued a little while later because people noticed they were missing and such, and while still awkward around each other (mostly Senti, because she is now suddenly RECEIVING A LOT OF ATTENTION from a girl who she will never admit she finds cute, it's still a lot to get used to on day one but she powers through for the sake of it.
After this their friendship and such get better and Felis is no longer a stranger to their group, because she starts hanging out with Senti A LOT MORE once they get back. (and neither of them will tell the others what happened for that change)
Also I like to think Felis barges in Senti's room all the time to give her updates on the. ON THE FANS SPECULATION ABOUT THEM LOL
Felis: "YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS NEW FIC THAT WAS JUST POSTED"
Senti: "what fic"
Felis: "ABOUT US, DUMMY"
Senti: "YOU READ THOSE THINGS?"
Felis: "OF COURSE I DO. SOME ARE REAL GOOD... Someone wrote an Alternate Universe where we're like magical knights fighting against some unknown forces called 'Honkai' !"
Senti: "These people will make up just about anything, I swear"
Felis: "Btw did you know our ship tag is called Sentifelis"
Senti: "Our what."
ANYWAY THATS. JUST ABOUT ALL IM SO SORRY THAT THIS GOT EXTREMELY LONG I HAD NO IDEA I WROTE THIS MUCH? (it looks WAY less in discordf kdjfhgjkdfgdfhjn)
Would love to draw a few of them in idol / kpop like outfits.
ANYWAY UM. ✌ STAN SENTIFELIS
me about to tag every honkai character known to man:
(jk i wont do it I know how tag spam works, I will do my best to be courteous and put the most important ones)
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feralbeeast · 26 days
Note
- What I *want* to know if how to get to your home/when you're your most vilnerable but I'll settle for what's your favourite toy?
- I think I already followed you and can't remember why other than non-binary horror fan sexy. But I turned on notifications bc you reblogged something with me with cute tags.
- I'm thinking about how to disguise my erection in this skirt. (More SFW answer: what I want to change my middle/surname to)
- Compliment: you'd be an excellent protagonist in a horror movie.
- This or that: Never have (any kind of) sex again or get stuck in a 48 time loop (let's say Early November midweek)
- Advice: How do I take better nudes/make use of filters?
- Secret: (Always hate this question because I don't tend to feel shame/hide things) I have no idea what I'm doing with my life and just want to do dumb shit/enjoy myself before I die (but I can't help wanting to help others).
- Things I associate with you: violent sexual depravity, gothic vibes, semi-sexual cuddles.
- Anything! Unionise! The only way we're getting out of this is together so go help yoir neighbours, love one another, and remind your local politician that they work for you, not the other way around.
💜
A long one 💜 here we go
- I'm definitely not stoned enough to fully answer that but damn, hot, im basically vulnerable 24/7 but I will say when I'm super sleep deprived and toked up late at night / super early mornings would be the best time to sneak in and take advantage of my pliability / my fav toy is someone's mouth ;b
- awww im honored I made it to notifications on status haha 🥰💖
- you shouldn't disguise it, in fact you should show it off either in a post or in the dms ;>💜
- I gotta say one of the better compliments I've ever received 🥰 I like to think I'd look pretty hot running/fighting for my life while covered in blood
- this or that : I'd definitely go with the time loop honestly I think it'd be kinda fun to fuck around with and that time of year has the best rainy cold weather where I live, plus I'm h y p e r sexual so I'd probably implode if I couldn't cum or make someone else cum ever again
- honestly Idk why I get compliments about how I take nudes/selfies cause I just take a shit ton from different angles then pick like 3 I kinda like and play around with the filter settings 😅 all I can say is experiment with every angle possible, prop up and set a timer for photos and if your phone doesn't have that option snapchat and other apps do !
- i totally understand that and can relate maybe a lil too much haha (except for the shame part, thanks to anxiety and cptsd I feel shame just for existing 😮‍💨)
- well shit 😅 thank you that's very accurate but way to call me out lmfao
- Hell ! Yes ! We're all here for a good time not a long time and I'm always gonna wanna spread as much love and kindness as I can no matter what 💖
Thank you lovely for the ask 💜
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unhinged-diaries · 2 months
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When you don’t come from a family that can invest large capital into your business ,you HAVE to be resourceful. Low income people who seek to level up should be resourceful anyway but it’s especially important when building a business.
I know that customers are shallow despite what they virtue signal in TikTok comment sections. It’s the reason why brands pay already rich, skinny, blonde (usually white) women tons of money to promote their brand even though ppl say they want “relatability and diversity”. The data doesn’t lie.
My home as a low income girly pop is not the setting ppl want to see when I’m promoting my product. They want the illusion that I have money bc that’s aspirational and inspires them to buy the product bc then they can “be just like her”.
Maybe if I was middle class I could get away with it but no one wants to see poverty, sorry.
I just rented a studio space to promote the product for my upcoming launch. It’s $70 an hour but in my mind it was an investment. I say ‘was’ rather than ‘is’ because I realize that I have a better investment opportunity.
I could spend $280 for four hours of studio time to create video content and take lifestyle photos however I’d be rushing and won’t have time to retake mistakes I see when I’m editing bc I’m trying to make 2-3 weeks worth of good content in 4 hours.
Or
I could rent a nice airbnb downtown for $285 and get a full 24 hours to make video content, take photos, AND edit with time to reshoot mistakes all in one go.
I already put down the deposit for the studio for this months release however next month I’ll be renting an Airbnb.
I was also going to hire a photographer to take and edit my lifestyle photos but it’s $300 for an hour and depending on how many outfits I want to shoot it could go over an hour. Why do that when I could just take the photos myself and then hire a photoshop pro from Ukraine on up-work for $100. After all, it’s meant to be lifestyle and feel native to the platform. I don’t know how many influencer and micro influencers get professional photos taken every-time they post on insta but my guess is it’s not many.
My goal this month is to order samples for my next five releases, and buy props (home decor) for the Airbnb to make it look natural and lived in. Things like candles, throw blankets and pillows, a fur rug, vases, and flowers. I’ll also bring my own home items like my jewelry holder and pink curtains. Then in April I can shoot video content and take pictures for my next 3-4 launches.
I’ll need a lot of caffeine to take advantage of the full 24 hours but I believe it’s doable.
Anything to sell the lifestyle.
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