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#i never thought that i could work these three topics into one post
benkeibear · 1 month
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⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips
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꒰ ͜͡➸ In which their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship.
❖ Characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki
❖ Reader: female | AFAB
❖ Wordcount: 4,3k
❖ WARNINGS: Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed and slapped (accidentally), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort
❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Part 2 with Nanami, Yuuji and Gojo in works! A big thank you to @kakushino and @suyacho for the brainstorming and making me pull through 🫶
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☰ Toji:
Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight, but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb, you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.
You don't even know what started the fight today - was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour; your throat was already sore, but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'd take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet,” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.
Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were just throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig." It wasn't too bad, but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face, but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure, when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you look at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.
Ever so slowly, he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex, you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how badly he had messed up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer. “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again, he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.
Relief was the first thing you felt when you finally felt like you could exhale once again. The air was less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall was gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, was now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room, but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji has left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, it didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.
After what felt like an eternity on the floor, you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things - you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was in your head. Dedicated, you brought the pieces to the living room, where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece, you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat like it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?
Once the distraction wore off, you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting in his favorite spot and the silence was deafening. The show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asked you if you're still watching, and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him, but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense like all the others before, so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…
Slowly, you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept. His show was now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you, replaying in your head over and over again.
Toji wandered around the block at first, contemplating getting drunk out of his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted, so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer, but the longer he sat there, the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.
By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already. The birds were chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after all, but he would promise to be better. He vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen, but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, the realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.
Shaking his head at his thought, he made his way back to the door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection that he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation, or perhaps the divorce you surely wanted?
“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone. He was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words, especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here. Both of you were uncomfortable with the situation, but you were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you would say to him. But right now, this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.
“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast. Do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear, but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.
Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while, but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and that you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.
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☰ Yuuta:
You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usual, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not, you found yourself alone in your shared home, talking limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind, even if he's not physically with you, especially then, but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.
This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places, so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously, he charged after you, “Wait, please. Let me explain!” He called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace, but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.
And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy, as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him, it felt as if your skin was burning. You quickly tugged your hand out of his grasp and glared at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu,” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he wouldn't be home for at least another five days, but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?
The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two was charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally, but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially for the dumbest reasons, but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone made him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him, but the air around you was so thick that he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much that you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this, but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know, he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.
Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calmed down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you fear the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you, so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you had asked, showing him he makes you uncomfortable, but before he could stop it, it was already too late.
Rika pushed you away from him much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.
The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm, but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears had become a reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. You were just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta, who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.
“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort, but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.
His head snapped around, looking for a way out of here. Perhaps he could jump out of the window, or is it too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was you utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction. Panicked eyes finally looked at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing, he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction from Rika, so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, your body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry, my love,” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to call both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.
Hours later, neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he had just broken the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry.” You eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you, but he quickly shook his head. “Don't..." It's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you,” he whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed, he would have had doubts as well, so he couldn't blame you.
Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.
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☰ Inumaki:
You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech, you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and he hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point that his friends automatically spoke of both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.
Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you, but he would never dare say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against his will. This was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again. “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you,” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks, already knowing what plagues his handsome head.
Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you didn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength that the slap echoed off the walls, followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away and the tears that started to form in your eyes caused him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry, it was an accident” over and over, but it felt like his hands were knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident, but it still hurt you - the tears were only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.
But the way you refused to even look at him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention, you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… He tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here.” These words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.
No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.
Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace, despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it. It felt so wrong to him, but he needed you to forgive him for accidentally hurting you and for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back, he was met with a face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even,” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man. You wanted to scream and explode at him, but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended. “We were play-fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand I do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.
Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, his eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he could hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort to not speak, he can mess up.
With trembling hands, he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort, he signed words that were unclear, but you knew what he meant. “Please hold me." You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you are and that he really had no malicious intentions, you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. "Love,” he mumbled out, knowing this one word wouldn't make you do anything, but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out loud. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped, but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship, but the bond you share will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be even more careful now.
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Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network
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theotterpenguin · 5 days
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the performative accusation that shipping zutara (and occasionally this criticism is levied at jinko/zukka) is colonialist apologism has been addressed in some excellent posts, explaining the inaccuracies and problematic implications of this logic far better than i ever could - like this post and this one and this one and this one and this one.
and i know this topic has been talked about to death, but if you could indulge my contribution for a moment, i just find it interesting how this sentiment results from the cognitive dissonance of atla fans being unable to reconcile with the idea of their favorite show's political beliefs not lining up with their own.
atla is a largely philosophical children's show that at its core deals with themes of love, redemption, and destiny vs. free-will. atla examines these themes through an anti-colonalist, anti-imperalist lens that deconstructs the idea of racial divisiveness and the idea that people of different ethnicities are inherently different. this is message is pretty explicitly stated by guru pathik:
Guru Pathik: "The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same." Aang: "Like the four nations?" Guru Pathik: "Yes. We are all one people. But we live as if divided."
and also by uncle iroh:
"It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements and the other nations will help you become whole."
this theme is developed across three full seasons, with the crux of this message culminating in zuko's friendships with the gaang - despite coming from different nationalities and different backgrounds, they have all had their own experiences being hurt by the fire nation and work together to take down the oppressive fire nation government. the question of destiny vs. free will is also explored through zuko's character - despite starting off as an antagonist, he develops into a symbolic representation of how the fire nation's oppression hurts its own citizens. he unlearns the fire nation's imperialist propaganda while simultaneously unlearning his father's abuse. rather than following misguided beliefs of what he thought his destiny was as the heir to the throne, instead he forges his own path.
thus, to claim that zuko can never form a deep and meaningful relationship with any of the gaang because of his nationality goes unequivocally against the themes of the show. and a major part of this is because these are fictional characters being used to analyze different theoretical questions within the show and in some cases, are used as symbolic representations of different philosophical ideas - their friendships and their character arcs serve a purpose within the text that cannot be easily transcribed onto real-life dynamics between people.
it's illogical to criticize fans who are choosing to understand atla at the level of the themes that are presented by the text - who are interested in exploring similar philosophical questions brought up by the show through the context of relationships.
if you don't like the themes of forgiveness and redemption that atla explores, your criticism should be aimed at the writing of the show itself rather than other fans. because you are giving far more thought to the "implications" of a close friendship or romantic relationship between someone from an imperalist nation and someone from an oppressed nation than the writers ever did. (and if you fall in this camp of people, i would hope you wouldn't be reblogging fanart of zuko and the gaang together while simultaneously claiming zuko could can never escape the sins of his ancestors and can never form a deep relationship based on trust and intimacy with katara or sokka or jin - because that would just be hypocritical).
and as a side note, people seem to apply this flawed logic to zutara far more than other ships solely because the show spends the most time exploring the complicated nature of fire nation imperalism in the interactions between zuko and katara in the latter half of b3. this is because they've been juxtapositioned against each other and paralleled with aang since the beginning of the show in ways that toph, sokka, and suki are not, who have mostly been used to examine different themes. there simply isn't enough time to explore these complicated themes with all the other characters, even if they theoretically exist in zuko’s dynamics with these characters, so the writers focus the most on zuko's relationships with katara and aang, and these relationships are given far more narrative weight, so have more content to criticize. but zuko and katara also canonically become friends by the end of the show. if you want to discount the existence of their friendship, claiming that it will always be tainted by the fire nation's oppression regardless of what is shown in the text, then you also have to discount zuko's friendships with aang, suki, toph, and sokka - because even if this isn't shown as a permanent barrier to their friendships in the show, it’s also not shown as a permanent barrier to his friendship with katara. if your logic is solely based on the idea that a person's identity in a relationship as a colonizer or a victim is fixed and unchanging regardless of character development, this would apply to zuko's friendships with everyone else as well.
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luna-andra · 7 months
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Domesticated!König Headcanons: Meeting the future In-Laws ✨
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Image: @Skavod29 on Twitter (Source)
I was floored by how much attention my first headcanon post got. Y'all had me fucking emotional and I am so happy it's something people actually like. It keeps me coming back to post more of my silly little ideas. Forever grateful for your support! ❤️
I also need to reiterate that my blog/posts are 18+ so MDNI, this one has some NSFW bonus HCS 💋
If you missed the first one, here :) StepDad!Konig is here!
I got other stuff! Masterlist pinned on my blog
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When you decided it was time for your parents and König to meet, you were tempted to slip a Xanax into his morning coffee. It is not like he hasn’t said a polite hello and a few words over the phone or when you facetime them, but now he was finally meeting them in person. You’ve seen him more calm talking to two- and three-star generals than this, the kinds of things that rattled your nerves.
You swore he changed attire more times than you did. The sight of him re-rolling his sleeves on his button up shirt made you intervene before he undid them all over again. He paused when your hands held his, then flicked his azure eyes up to you. “They’re gonna love you, my king.” Your gentle smile and comforting words got through to him.
They welcomed you and the mystery man with open arms at their front door. Mom never knew how to keep her thoughts to herself, but she really did mean well. Of course, the first thing they all notice is how König has to duck under their doorway to come inside. “You weren’t lying when you said he was tall,” mom said. You gave her a warning look followed up with an apologetic smile to König. He managed to chuckle it off, it was nothing new for him. It did make him curious about what else you’ve said to your mom about the two of you.
You gave König a tour of your childhood home, nearly having to pry him from the wall of photos of you and your family. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face of the little timeline displayed in pretty frames; your first elementary school photo, a photo of you in a boy/girl scouts uniform, another of you during extra-curricular activities (band/orchestra, JROTC, sports, theater, robotics team, etc.), a prom photo with you and old friends, and lastly your high school graduation picture. König wanted a copy of one of them to keep in his wallet, mom promised to get him one behind your back.
König's field day got better when you showed him your childhood bedroom. Depending on how you last had it decorated, you were either low key bashful or regretting even showing him. It was like traveling back in time for him, giving him a glimpse of the kid and teen, you used to be. A chance to fall in love with every facet of you.
He was getting more comfortable when he found out your dad wasn’t out to get him as much as he thought. They ended up sitting in the living room, talking about a topic after your dad played twenty questions to figure him out. Something either about guns, hunting, hiking, fishing, blue-collar work, and if your dad is a veteran, they got along faster than you could imagine. You and mom caught up in the kitchen as you helped her finish up with cooking and setting the table.
If you have siblings, they showed up in the nick of time before dinner, to share embarrassing stories of you when you were a kid, or the stories you all waited to tell when you all were adults to avoid from getting in trouble. König watched and listened as you got more animated with laughter. Loving every second of this. He had a handful of memories he could count on his hand that were of happier times, but your memories became his favorite ones.
Everyone pestered the two of you for the story of how you met. And since you’ve been doing most of the talking, you looked to König to tell the tale. Your eyes never left him as he started the story from his point of view, recollecting the moment he saw you and how he was trying to come up with an excuse to try and talk to you. It donned on you that this was the first time you were hearing the way he saw you. “And now we’re here,” he concluded, looking over to you with a grin and a touch to your hand underneath the table.
NSFW Bonus:
König couldn’t stop thinking about taking you in your childhood room, nearly fantasizing what it would’ve been like if the two of you met as teens/younger adults. Indulging in the idea of sneaking into your bedroom window or standing outside with a boombox in 80s/90s style fashion.
Of course, your parents offered you to stay with them, not wanting you to have to rent a hotel room or travel back (depending on how far away you lived from them), so the later the night got, the more distracted König became with fulfilling his dirty thoughts.
It was just like the old days, having you home and hearing the music coming from your speakers when someone passed by the doorway. You were just showing König your CD collection, right?
It definitely wasn’t because you were trying to muffle your moans and screams as he pounded you into that fucking mattress. Making you a drooling and brainless mess under his rutting hips. He kept praising you for taking him so well and for being so quiet like the good little fuck thing you were, making it harder not to cum so fast. Secretly, this was your fantasy too, and you wanted it to last a little longer than the 10 minutes of foreplay and fucking you had already endured.
Likes & reblogs are always appreciated! Stay tuned for more to this unexpected series! Asks are opened for requests & ideas for others.
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nox140497 · 3 months
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A Midnight Crisis
Prompt: No
Request: No
Summery: Colby has a panic attack late one night.
Prompt Number: None
Pairings: Colby Brock x Female Reader
Masterlist
Prompt List
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_______________________________
Colby shut his laptop with more force than intended and rubbed his tired eyes. It was past 2am, and he was no closer to finishing the script for his next video.
Glancing around the dimly lit editing room, stacks of notes and camera equipment stared back at him, each item representing hours of work ahead. The never-ending to-do list seemed to stretch into infinity as pressure and perfectionism gnawed away at his sanity.
A tapping at the door pulled Colby from his spiraling thoughts. "Sweetheart, come to bed," said his girlfriend Y/N softly. "You've been at it for hours."
Colby nodded wearily and followed her downstairs. As they curled up under the blankets, Y/N gently stroked his damp hair. "What's keeping you up?" she asked softly.
Colby took a shaky breath. "I just feel so behind. If I don't post at least twice a week, the algorithm will bury me. And the comments..." His voice cracked. "People are always criticising - the lighting, my jokes, who I film with, everything. I try so hard, but it's never enough."
Y/N pulled him closer. "You work like three men already. No one achieves perfection, at least of all in a few hours each time."
Colby knew she was right, but the churning anxiety refused to subside. What if his viewers lost interest? Sponsors pulled funding? It had happened to bigger creators - he wasn't immune.
"I'll never sleep at this rate," he sighed. Reluctantly climbing out of bed, Colby headed back to his prison of screens and cables. Y/N followed, concern etched on her face.
Back in the office, Colby began rewriting his script frantically, deleting and retyping sentences over and over as familiar panic started clawing its way up his throat. What if he picked the wrong topic? Messed up the comedic timing? He typed so fast his hands began to cramp.
A stabbing pain in his chest made Colby gasp for air. Black spots danced before his eyes as the walls closed in, trapping him under the crushing expectation to perform.
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him from behind. "Colby, you need to breathe," urged Y/N calmly. She took his trembling hand and placed it on her chest. "In and out, slowly. I've got you."
Colby fought to match her even breaths as crushing anxiety morphed into racking sobs. "I'm losing control," he cried into Y/N's shoulder. "What if I can't do this anymore?"
"Shh, it's okay," soothed Y/N gently. "Come, let's get some air."
Walking unsteadily through the silent house, Colby slowly began to regain control of his breathing in the cool night. Y/N never let go of his hand, grounding him through the lingering panic.
On the back porch, they sat close together, watching the stars. An uneasy silence stretched between them as Colby gathered the courage to speak.
"I'm scared this will break me," he admitted shakily. "I pour everything into videos only to be constantly worried if it's decent enough. It's not making me happy anymore - it's destroying me." A single tear rolled down his cheek.
Y/N gently wiped it away and took his face in her hands. "You are so much more than the metrics or comments say. I see how talented and kind you are every day. This channel was supposed to be fun, so please don't let it ruin your health or us."
Her earnest eyes conveyed nothing but compassion. All the resentful feelings Colby harbored towards himself began to melt away under Y/N's unconditional love and support.
As the first light of dawn broke over the trees, Colby finally felt some of the crushing weight lift. Exhausted but calmer, he leaned into Y/N's shoulder, grateful beyond words that she saw his true worth, not defined by meaningless views or numbers on a screen. This was only the beginning of getting his life back on track, but with her by his side, Colby believed things could get better.
A week had passed since Colby's panic attack, and he was beginning to feel more like himself again. Taking time completely away from YouTube at Y/N's suggestion had brought unexpected relief.
Without daily stresses to focus on, Colby rediscovered long-lost interests like photography and gardening. He spent afternoons going for hikes with Y/N, marvelling at nature's beauty through fresh eyes. Their home filled with snapshot memories from each outing, captured joyfully on film.
With structure and rest, Colby's anxiety gradually released its grip. For the first time in months he slept well, free from dreams about botched collabs or unkind comments. Y/N watched him awaken each day looking more energised, reminding her gently of the importance to maintain this lifestyle.
One sunny afternoon found Colby immersed in tending roses along the fence border. As he trimmed away wilted blooms, flashes of memories surfaced - cramming scripts at 3am, editing well into dawn, forgetting to eat or take breaks. Exhausted, sore hands moved on auto-pilot to create a never-ending stream of content.
His downward spiral had been gradual yet forceful, spurred on by perfectionism and fear of slipping in the algorithm. But Y/N's care dragged Colby kicking and screaming from that dark routine, revealing how lonely the path of overwork had become. A cold shudder passed over him at the realisation of how close he came to burning out completely.
Wiping sweat from his brow, Colby's gaze fell upon Y/N watching tenderly from the porch. Her bright smile warmed his soul, reminding him that life held more meaningful things than views or trends. Carrying the gardening tools inside, Colby collapsed on the couch beside her with a happy sigh.
"Feeling better?" she asked, handing him a cool drink. Colby nodded gratefully. "I'm amazed at the difference a week makes. Things seem clearer now."
He stretched comfortably, thoughts drifting back over stressful nights locked away working endlessly to please abstract metrics, while neglecting real connection. That loneliness had almost swallowed him whole.
"Thank you for pulling me back from the edge," Colby told Y/N earnestly, taking her hands. "I lost sight of what really matters, but you've given me a new perspective."
Y/N leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I'm just glad to have you here, happy and healthy. Promise me you won't let it get that bad again?" Smiling, Colby promised to always communicate how he felt from now on, never bottle things up until breaking point.
That evening, the couple discussed potential strategies for Colby to maintain wellbeing going forward. Setting stricter schedules with enforced breaks, delegating tasks, limiting social media use - simple changes aimed at sustainably managing pressure and burnout prevention.
Colby knew regaining control would take diligent effort. But with Y/N by his side, nothing felt impossible anymore. Her patience and reassurance instilled a calm confidence in his ability to return renewed, without sacrificing mental wellness. The following week, Colby finally felt ready to resume video making.
Armed with new perspective and healthier habits, Colby crafted a short update video explaining his break to concerned viewers. Speaking candidly about mental health awareness and balance, he saw more supportive comments roll in than ever before. The positive reinforcement served to cement Colby's resolution to prioritise fulfillment through diverse passions instead of basing self-worth on one metric's fluctuations alone.
Weeks turned to months of sustainable creativity. True to his word, Colby kept communication lines open with Y/N, never hesitating to discuss feelings or setbacks. With her encouragement he joined local photography groups and took on freelance opportunities to spread creative wings beyond YouTube alone.
Most importantly, Colby learned to be kind to himself through both triumphs and failures. Looking back on a time when anxiety nearly took control of his life, he was profoundly grateful for Y/N's unconditional love and support. It was this care that gave him strength to overcome adversity and regain balance, emerging healthier and happier than ever before.
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margotwhites · 2 months
Text
Jason Todd x Singer reader (fem)
Author's note: I received such a surprisingly positive reply from this! I haven't posted in months, so this caught me off guard completely. (Yes 15 notes is good for me lmao 🥹) In this version, Jason knows who reader are since the beginning. I thought it'd be more fun.
So, basically this a longer version of the first part + a second part. I intend to write this in chapters. Enjoy and please give me your thoughts ❤️
Part two:
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Jason Todd knew one thing or two about twitter. Or X, whatever. The thing is: he's at least three times a month in the trending topics. Not him exactly, but Red Hood. Red Hood is always there.
It goes from people hating on him, to young girls (psycho's in his opinion) calling him babygirl or daddy. He doesn't understands and he doesn't want to. He's not much one from social media, so when he is on the trending topics, normally someone from the family teases him about it.
This time is no different. Dick Grayson and Tim Drake are laughing way too hard. Looking from Tim's phone directly towards Jason. He sighs, closing the book he is reading. Currently they are all comfortably sitting on the library, eating Alfred's cookies and tea.
"What is it?" Jason asks, already regretting the question.
"Open twitter." Tim says, a huge smile on his face. Jason feels a chill down his spine because he knows it's going to be bad. Not that he cares. He doesn't give a shit about public's opinion.
But sometimes the comments about him, the mean comments wishing him to die... Those get to him. So he's prepared for that. For people hating, or for his fangirls fighting deciding who'd be his next imaginary girlfriend.
But he never expected to be shipped with someone else. He knows who you are. Everybody knows who you are. A talented young singer, that ascended till the top in less than three years. Doing some works on modeling from time to time for McQueen or Vogue or Versace, because you're that beautiful.
He wouldn't call himself a fan, but he does think you are musically talented. Anyway, everyone is shipping him with you.
And he doesn't know why.
"Why am I being shipped with her?" He asks, out loud. Before Dick or Tim can answer, Steph bursts into the library's door laughing.
"Jason-"
"I know."
She laughs again. He starts to scroll down the comments, until he finds a video of a live interview you did on Kurt's show, that prick. The journalist is famous for doing weird questions.
"So, everybody knows you have a bit of thing for vigilantism. How did that start?" Kurt asks, crossing his arms and giving the public a charming smile.
"Oh, it started with Batman, of course. I was a little kid when I heard the stories about the man that haunted the nights in Gotham. I am a L.A girl, but either way I absolutely felt enchanted. It's just so cool that is there someone out there that takes justice in their own hands."
Yeah, right. She's a fan of the Batass. Jason scoffs while watching the video, but continues anyway.
"And who is your favorite vigilante?" Kurt asked, leaning closer to her. He was a charming man, young and successful, just like her.
"Oh, Red Hood, definitely." She says that without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Just a plain, simple answer.
"Red Hood? Isn't he a bit... extreme?" Kurt said, tilting his head.
"I think he is doing good in his own ways, and that is so freaking cool, you know? And I think his motorcycle is super... uh, how can I say? Hot." She says, and gives the public a little giggle. She continues:
"Which doesn't mean I agree with everything he does. But I find his persona interesting and refreshing. He's different from the rest, different approaches and all. It makes me curious about who is the man behind the mask."
"If you could say anything to him, what would you say?" Kurt asks, smiling.
"Oh! I'd probably ask him to take me on a ride with his bike. And to get a girlfriend. I think he needs a feminine touch in his life." She answers, with an amused grin.
The video ends and Jason doesn't really know what to think. You just said he needed a girlfriend. A feminine touch.
The truth is, he can't really disagree. When was the last time he felt a woman's body close to his? More time than he wants to admit. Months. Maybe more than a year. In his defense, it's not that he doesn't have the game. He just don't have the energy to play it.
Steph laughs takes him out of his wandering thoughts. He looks up at his siblings, an irritated expression in his face.
"Read the tweets, the tweets are the best part!" She says, chuckling again. Jason goes straight to the shipping hashtag. People saying they want to be Jason, people saying they want to be you, people saying they want to be the bed where you both - forget it.
He sighs and throws his cellphone on the couch, sitting back and beginning to read his book.
"That's it? That's your reaction?" Dick asks, tilting his head like a curious dog.
"It's just a bunch of tweets. People will forget eventually. Nothing I should worry about." Jason replies, not taking his eyes off The Catcher in the Rye.
Little did he know.
__________________________________________________
Okay. Maybe you shouldn't have said that. Maybe you were dumb and reckless. And now your agent and her team are almost killing you.
It's not your fault. You were always told to be honest, because your fun and outgoing (at least on stage) personality were one of your best traits.
"Are you crazy! This could have led to terrible repercussions. What if everyone focused on the fact that you support a murderer?!" Claya, your agent says, almost shouting.
"Well, they didn't. Now they are just shipping him with me." You say, trying to defend yourself. The truth is, behind the cameras and the stage and all the "popstar" persona you have to pull out, you are an introvert. You have two lifes.
"Yeah, and you should be grateful for it. This can even be a good sign. It seems people are interested in your love life. We can use that for our advantage." Claya says.
You adore her, really. And it's her job to figure it out how to make your career ascend. And she does it very well. But sometimes you just wish it wouldn't be about money or status. It would be just about how to do good music.
Anyway, you don't want to be ungrateful. You're living your childhood dream. So you take those thoughts out of your mind.
"Well, what do you have in mind?" You ask, blinking in confusion.
"We're going to Gotham. You're going to do a show there." Claya says, confidently and typing on her computer.
"Are you out of your mind? Shows in Gotham always go wrong. The Chase Atlantic show from last month was attacked by Pyg!" You say, trying to contain your agent's wicked ideas.
"Honey, don't worry. Maybe Red Hood appears in to save the whole ordeal. It couldn't be better." Claya says, standing up and closing her computer.
Claya and the team leave you alone to think. It's not like you have a lot of choice in the matter, anyway. If she says you're doing the show, you gotta do it.
But it's just a show, right? Nothing to worry about.
Little did you know.
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writerze · 9 months
Text
author’s note: i haven’t posted anything on here in a longgg time. apologies if the story is all over the place i’m writing this at 2-4am !!
warnings: none, except for my corny ass writing
summary: you’re new at school and instantly gain miles’ attention.
part 2
e!42 miles morales x fem!black!reader
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He admittedly had a small crush on you the first time he noticed you.
You were new to the school and you already stood out from the rest of the students. The way your looks and personality gained not only his attention, but as well as your new peers, was almost like a magnet.
Just his luck, the two of you shared a class together.
You sat a few seats to the side of him, unintentionally giving him the perfect view of your profile. Once the class started he tried paying attention, but it was stuff he already knew and had no interest in relearning.
He got distracted, deciding it was more interesting to look at you than whatever the teacher was saying. Miles didn’t notice that he was staring at you for that long, but you clearly noticed the heated gaze from someone nearby.
When you finally looked at him, he didn’t freeze like you expected him to do but only continued staring you down. You broke the eye contact first, leaning so that your braids covered the side of your face. If you could blush, you’d definitely be red right now.
Miles finally put his attention back on the teacher, but his mind only continued to go back to how pretty you looked.
⭐️
It’s been a few weeks since you started your new school and since you noticed Miles’ stare. Neither of you had made any direct contact, but in class or brief instances in the hallway the two of you always made some type of eye contact.
Your teacher’s voice discussing the new project they were assigning the class disrupts your thoughts. You were currently sitting in the class you shared with Miles’. Ever since you first caught him staring at you, you always made sure to look good in class or wherever at school you thought you’d see him. You were hoping that he would make the first move, but at the speed the two of you were going it was never going to happen.
“For the project you need to at least be a group of two or three. No more than that or your project will not count.”
The class echoes with different sounds of content or displeasure, people knowing exactly who their group would be or not having any idea.
You couldn’t help but glance at Miles, who just so happened to be looking at you.
“Begin searching for your partners. Move your desks together if needed.”
The dismissal of your teacher caused the students to rush to get up to find their desired partners.
“Hey! Y/N, do you want to work with me? This seems easy.”
“Y/N!! Work with me, you can come over my house to work on it!”
People you knew of in the class started coming up to you, asking if you’d want to work with them. Most of them being boys that were trying to get at you and a few being girls that thought you were able to get them more popularity.
You weren’t fully aware, but ever since you came to the school you were almost always the student’s main topic. People always had something to talk about when it came to you. It was either the fresh set of nails you had or the new braids you wore or the new pair of jordan’s you had on. One way or another, you were always talked about.
You quickly declined everyone’s offers. “I already have a partner! Maybe next time?” You quickly stood and walked towards Miles’ desk, who had been watching the whole ordeal.
“Hey..,” you took a moment to glance at him up and down. His fresh braids, cool fit, and of course his handsome features made him look so good. You were always confused on why you rarely see him talking with anyone.
“You don’t have a partner yet do you?”
His eyes stared into you, a passive look on his face, as he took his time to respond.
A slight smirk came across his face as he looked you over. “Nah, why? You tryna be mines?”
You couldn’t help but feel as if he had a double meaning behind his words.
A/N: I CAN WRITE WAY BETTER THAN THIS I PROMISE
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nyoomiin · 17 days
Text
roommates: part six.
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your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
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pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
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prev. masterlist. next.
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“Thank you so much,” you tell the Traveller gratefully. “Wait! Before you go — I made the both of you something.”
They're keychains, you show them, both crocheted by yours truly. One, the sword the Traveller wielded, and the other, the crown Paimon donned. You had made them during the spare time you had whilst waiting for the materials to make Kunikuzushi's clothes.
“Aw! You didn't have to,” Paimon squeals. “They're adorable! Thank you!”
You laugh, handing them over to her. “It's really more of a bribe — I hope you'll come and find me at my shop if your clothes ever need mending or anything.”
“Sure thing! We'll definitely come see you if we have the time!” Paimon promises earnestly.
“Well, I won't keep you anymore. Again, thanks for completing my commision, Mr. Traveller and Paimon!”
“Aether is fine,” he says kindly, and goddamned if he didn't have a pretty voice. His name was pretty too. Aether.
Still, you think to yourself, Kunikuzushi’s just might be prettier.
You must have made it in life.
You've finally gotten your roommate to sit the fuck down and eat dinner with you. And it only took a month and three days. Homemade soup was on the menu today, potatoes and carrots and corn and chicken, just how your grandmother used to make for you. Honestly, soup was the only dish you could cook well.
“How is it?” you ask eagerly, making a show of batting your eyelashes at him and grinning. “I'm quite proud of that recipe.”
He hums, sampling a spoonful. “It’s… edible.”
As if it wasn't the best thing he's had in his life. You harrumph. “Whatever you say.”
Later, when you're cleaning up, and when all has been said and done, you'll realise he's finished two whole bowls and not a drop less. But for now, you're only curious about many, many things.
“Are you from Inazuma?” you ask. “You look like an Inazuman. Your name sounds like it too!”
He looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “I am.”
“That's so cool! Why'd you move?”
“Just… something I had to accomplish. Eh, well, it didn't work out — but it's all water under the bridge now,” he says casually, but with the way his eyes darken and the way he glances away, you know you've touched a nerve. You’ve become rather adept at reading his moods in the recent weeks of badgering him daily.
You change the topic quickly. “That's a shame. I'm glad you stayed, though, or else I'd never have befriended you! But can you speak Inazuman?”
“Of course I can,” he scoffs, puffing up haughtily. “Who do you take me for?”
“Jeez, I never said you couldn't.”
“You implied it,” he retorts pettily.
You click your tongue, the words spilling out faster than your brain could process them. “Then what does ‘Kabukimono’ mean?”
He goes silent, and you smirk, victorious. Of course he wouldn't know what it meant — you had come up with it in a dream, after all. That would show his cocky ass. Except… the expression on his face is odd. He stares at you, horrified and disbelieving and everything in between.
Then, it's gone.
He snorts. “What kind of stupid word is that?”
“I thought of it in a dream,” you say matter-of-factly.
“Only you'd be that senseless,” he snipes. At your offended gasp, he softens minutely. “It means oddly dressed, or insane. Take your pick.”
Then he stands, announcing that talking to you made his head hurt and leaving for his room. You sigh. You wonder if he’s always going to storm off if you mention something he didn't like. Still…
Oddly dressed, or insane, huh?
(His heart is loud — roaring in his ears.
Gods, he hadn't desperately wished for a heart only for it to be such a nuisance.
You shouldn't know that name. How did you ever learn that name? From a dream? There had never been any record of a Kabukimono after him — and all traces of him had already been erased. It couldn't be a mere coincidence. Nothing was ever just a coincidence with him.
That shitty god…
What the fuck did she do?)
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taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth
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chishiyaisasnack · 5 months
Text
It’s under my skirt, Doctor
Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I finally got this little thing together, and I hope you all like it.
Disclaimer! This is smut. Stay away if you aren’t of agw or if you’re uncomfortable with the topic. Remember to use protection in real life!
Written and posted on mobile, I apologize for any wierd formatting.
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Chishiyas life was work. Long hours, sometimes so long that he didn’t leave the hospital before his next shift. The couch in his office had become soft from where he slept, countless days and nights spent there alone. Not that it mattered, not to him. He liked his job. Kind of. There was nothing else he wanted to do anyway, so filling his life with something that kept his brain occupied and evolving was good enough. Once he stopped caring about all the injustice he focused solely on performing surgeries. The heart was an interresting thing, so small, so powerful. One wrong move and a life could end. Sometimes he wondered what that would feel like. He would never play with a life like that, he wasn’t completely insane, but the thought had showed up once or twice.
This particular shift got his mood turning all over the place. Everyone was whiny, rude and just hard to deal with. Twelve hours of pretending to be respectful was hard enough on the good days.
When he got back to his office he sank down into the couch, contemplating buying new cushions soon because they were starting to get uncomfortable. He needed to get his mind cleared out, to stop thinking about work and kids and parents who he wanted to toss in the trashcan.
A vibration went off in his pocket, making his head hurt just thinking about what they would need him for now. He just wanted to rest. So, when he picked it up and saw the notification on his screen he got pleasently suprised.
Y/N: Hey, sorry to disturb your work but I have a medical issue that I wondered if you could take a look at? I can come over in 10 minutes if that works for you.
He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Normal people didn’t use the words ”medical issue” as a synonym for ”I want to fuck” but it worked very well for the two of them. Chishiya had met her at a work gathering and that turned out to be the best stress reliever he could wish for, and he knew that she used him for that exact same reason. Some might say that they were dating, but the only times they really met in person was just for sex and maybe some lunch afterwards. Chishiya did spend occasional nights at her place since she lived closer to the hospital than he did, and getting his dick wet then sleep in a bed instead of his office couch was a nice change.
Ten minutes later the telltale three knocks on his office door woke him up from his thoughts. Trying not to run to the door in excitement, he stood up, took a deep breath and changed into his normal ’I don’t care about anything’-face before opening it. The ’not caring about anything’-face changed as soon as he saw what was on the other end of the doorframe. He was not prepared for her standing there, panties hanging from slender fingers on one of her hands and her head cocked to the side. The skirt she was wearing was short and flowy, almost revealing what was, or rather what wasn’t underneath it.
”Eager are we?” Chishiya welcomed her in a smug voice, trying to hide the mess his head was already in. She winked at him in response.
”You usually don’t have very long so I thought I’d be prepared.” She walked straight to him, put the underwear in the chest pocket of his white doctors coat and kicked the door closed behind her. Chishiya could hear the click from the lock but was more interrested in the cleavage that her ”too tight to be comfortable”-top was showing. He didn’t even try to hide that he liked what he saw. He knew she liked it. A finger under his chin woke him up from his thoughts and when he looked up he was met with sparkling eyes full of excitement when she gazed back into his.
”Hmm.. I like how professional you look in this outfit” she purred as she smoothed her hands up his chest until she reached his neck, hands tangling in the blonde strands in the back until his hair tie fell to the floor, one thumb tracing his ear. ”I’d let you examine me any day.”
Chishiya rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting, but rather than giving her a comeback he reached in and put his hands on her bare thighs, inching further up while he kissed that lovely space between her neck and shoulder that made her whimper every time.
”So, what did you want me to take a look at?” Chishiya murmered teasingly into her ear. She hummed and moved her hands back down to his shoulders, gripping onto the neck of his coat.
”It’s under my skirt, Doctor.”
In one swift move she grabbed the stethoscope still hanging around his neck and pulled him with her until they both hit the wall behind her, before crashing her lips into his with urgency, and Chishiya returned it with just as much desire as he was given. It was intoxicating, her soft lips, the sweet smell of her perfume, her hands tugging at his hair trying to coax him closer.
His hands went from her thighs to her waist, with just a quick squeeze at her ass first, clenching his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her even closer so that she could feel that this was affecting him too. His cock was already getting hard, pushing uncomfortably against his pants, but her soft stomach gave great friction whenever she moaned and rubbed herself against him.
Trying to deepen the kiss, she slid her tounge against his lips, making him smile against her whine when he didn’t answer her attempt. He was the one calling the shots and he wanted her to remember that. Instead of giving her what she wanted he pried his lips away from hers and targeted her neck.
The sweet sounds she made whenever his lips caressed her made his head spin. He couldn’t keep his hands still any longer and torturously slow started to inch them up the skin under her top, feeling the way she moved under them, how she was shivering against his touch and how her lungs moved with every heated breath that left her. He knew that undressing her probably wasn’t the best idea in case someone managed to interrupt them, but when he felt her breast under his palms, so soft and squeazable and utterly wonderful to nibble at, his desire to put his face between them took over his rationality. So, after he sucked down on the skin on her shoulder - and grinned at the sour moan she made - he pulled her top off and started his descent down her body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the thump that her head made when she threw it back against the wall but he was far more interrested in the goosebumps that spread under the line he licked down her collarbone. When he finally moved his mouth over her nipple he felt a hand grip his shoulder with a strenght that was sure to leave a mark.
The noises she made went straight to Chishiyas cock. His mind was so clouded by the need to be inside her that he was having trouble keeping his teasing facade in check. Nestling his face in her chest did ground him a bit though, it was the whines that followed it that made him throb in his pants.
”Fuck, Chishiya… lower please” she begged, shivering when he swept his tounge over her other nipple. The gentle squeeze from his other hand earned him another whimper - and a fist in his hair trying to push him further down. He complied with a quiet laugh, loving how aroused she was from just this. Not that he had anything to say about that, he was aching just as bad as she was.
He didn’t bother to take her skirt off, he just held it up with one hand while running the other up her inner thigh, slow and steady so that he could hear her quiet complaints that he took too long.
”Hold it” he commanded, looking at her and then the skirt, nodding towards it to make his point. A shaky hand took a hold of the hem of the skirt and he shifted his focus back to her soft thighs, leading up to her glistening center that he couldn’t wait to be inside. He couldn’t help himself and squeezed the inside of her thigh, thinking about how great it would feel to have them wrapped around him - then laughed at her impatient grunt before giving in and giving her what she asked for.
With one hand he hiked her leg over his shoulder and then he dove in and let his tounge spread her open, loving the wetness he was met with. A cascade of ’yes’-es fell from her mouth as she rolled her hips in time with his tounges movements. A long lick between the folds, flicking over the clit, sucking, kissing, circling… he knew exactly what she liked and he gave it to her. Every time her moans got a little louder he slowed down, dragging out the sensation (and pissing her off just a little just because he could). It was his favourite leisure activity and he could go for hours if he had the time. Unfortunately he didn’t and with a last lick he stopped, her disappointed groan chiming like music in his ears.
He rose to his feet, one hand still lingering on her thigh, the other moving a strand of hair from her face that was so lovely and flushed from desire. There was a hint of irritation from the way her eyebrows scrunched together, but it disappeared when he used the same hand that he just caressed her cheek with to draw a line along her pussy, wet and warm, and so inviting, making her squirm under his touch.
”I want to take my time with you but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” he reminded her. ”Come here.”
Chishiya started walking towards the couch, sat down and patted his lap as an invitation for her to sit.
”I’m tired and have been working all day,” Chishiya playfully told her, watching her eyes roll as she walked towards him, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed how obvious she was with everything and that she didn’t take any of his shit. She was strong and powerful and he wouldn’t have a chance against her wits if she wanted to ruin him. And he didn’t want it any other way.
”You need a new couch” she complained while straddling his lap, knees sinking down too far and throwing off her balance before she put her hands on his shoulder and shuffled her way forward to hover over his length.
”But I really like my couch” he lied, lazily putting his hands on her waist to pretend to help her.
”Sure you do. Take off your pants, or are you too tired to do that to, Doctor?”
For once he hurried, mostly because his dick was aching and he couldn’t wait for it to be inside her. So he moved his pants and boxers out of the way, enough to release his cock. She didn’t waste a second and sank down onto it right away.
Both of them moaned, her from finally being filled and him from finally being hugged by her warm, wet walls. When she started to move, riding him nice and deep, he couldn’t help himself and let his head fall back so he could watch her face as she fucked herself on him.
”Fuck, I’ve been needing this” he groaned as she took him in, Chishiya pushing as far in as he could to savour that warm and tight feeling that her insides gave him. ”You feel so good.”
”Fuck…” was the only answer he got, but it sounded perfect. Breathless and broken, turning into another moan when his cock hit her sweet spot again.
She rode him deep and fast, her wet walls stroking his cock in rhythm with her movements. Desperate to feel more of it, he bucked up into her to bury himself as deep as he could. Her hands was on his shoulders, nails digging deep into his white coat.
Chishiyas hands were everywhere, grabbing her ass hard as she bounced on his lap, sliding up her waist when he went back to rolling her hips, cupping her breasts when he took over and fucked her from below. The bliss on her face drove him on, making him thrust harder and angling his hips so that he hit that spongy spot inside her with every thrust. He could feel her getting close, her insides tightening and clamping down around his cock, stroking the life out of him with it. He wouldn’t last much longer either - he needed her to come so that he could join her. So he slid a hand down to her center, putting two fingers on her clit and started to circle it in time with his thrusts. The loud groan she let out at the sensation made the fire in his stomach grow even more and, fuck, he needed her to orgasm.
”Y/N, come for me,” he hissed and pressed down harder on her clit. ”Fuck, come on my cock.”
And so she did. With a rough moan into his neck he felt her walls clamping down on his cock, so fucking tight, before convulsing around him. Maybe he should have stopped and let her catch her breath but his hips moved at their own will now. He fucked her with desperation, each thrust bringing him closer, until he emptied himself deep inside her. She moaned as he did, rocking her hips to stimulate him more until his cock had stopped twitching.
Chishiyas hands landed on her waist again, this time drawing soft circles on her skin, making her shiver under his touch. Her breath was warm against his neck when she nuzzled her face there. He let her rest on him, he was too satisfied to move anyway. They sat like that until both their breathing had calmed down, and until he had gone soft enough to slip out of - although he didn’t want to. She felt too good. But even he wasn’t able to control his body that much. He had tried.
When she moved it was with shaky legs, tired from overworking them on that dumb couch. He smirked as he helped her up onto her feet, casting a glance on the clock hanging on the wall above his desk. There were still time to have some more fun, and even if his dick was tired, his tounge wasn’t. Standing up next to her he bent in, moved a strand of her hair away from her face, and softly spoke into her ear.
”So, is there anything else you want me to examine?”
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keepthisholykiss · 1 year
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The results from my Dracula Daily survey are in! Just like with my Hamlet survey in the past, these are the highlights of data that I found from the survey. Folks shared valuable insights that are soon to be shared with the purpose of advocating for further free education resources like these. The data in these graphics is not all the data received but that is because I never share 100% of results, only the interesting parts. This is also probably my final survey I will do like this unless there is desire for me to do more research, if you have a topic you’d like me to cover send me an ask! Otherwise I will be working on my child, my magnum opus, my future PhD dissertation.
Onto the post mortem thoughts and alt text which are both under the fold!
This survey was originally done with the purpose of a specific conference I was to attend and share my thoughts on accessible education with. However that conference was, ironically, incredibly inaccessible. I am a queer disabled scholar and I face a lot of challenges in academia so making my case for why educational resources like Dracula Daily should be promoted within academia is very important to me. Unfortunately my original plans for this research could not happen due to my having to pull out of the conference. Now this data is being shared with a new and much more accessible conference, so at least I can still have use it for its original purpose!
Also of note is that this survey, unlike work I have done in the past, received some really nasty responses. Specifically terfs (idk why they wrote gross stuff in my survey answers though) and people who wanted to belittle the way or the content of what I was researching. This is not okay. I want to reiterate that I am a queer, disabled scholar who has zero tolerance for some of the responses I received. Studying fandom is never fully free of this but I want to hold people accountable always for the way people are treated within a community. My studies of online community are basically done (because I am moving onto my PhD work which does not involve the same research) but if I come back to doing it I will be implementing other methods to avoid the way I was treated. Regardless of the bad eggs and struggles I have with most all of academia this was fun. I appreciate everyone who participated and thank you for the feedback. Please enjoy these results!
ALT TEXT:
Slide one: Dracula Daily survey results Slide two: About the survey -  A survey was conducted to gather data from fans of Dracula Daily to gain insight on accessible education and fandom. The survey received 863 responses these are the data highlights. Slide three: Disclaimer - The data presented here is a summary of information and highlighted portions of responses. This is not all of the data and the entirety will never be released. Also some responses were omitted from final numbers due to abusive language entered into the survey toward the researcher. Slide four: Before Dracula Daily - 62%  of respondents had not read Dracula before Dracula Daily.  More than 50% of respondents answered that they had been avid readers at some point in their lives. Slide five: 85%  of respondents noted that they had consumed other gothic or vampire media prior to Dracula Daily. Slide six: Finishing the story - 66%  of respondents finished Dracula Daily. 15.7% plan to finish. Slide seven:  92% of respondents said Dracula Daily improved their understanding of Dracula and/or classic literature Slide eight: Stopping short -  The majority of those who responded that they did not finish stopped reading sometime in October.  The top reason for not finishing was: lack of motivation. Slide nine: Let’s Talk About It - 82%  of respondents talked about Dracula Daily online, in person, or both. Over 50%  cited memes as their favorite part of participating. Slide ten: One More Chapter -  Many respondents indicated their desire to read more books in this format, the titles with the most interest were: Sherlock Holmes, Jane Austen, Phantom of the Opera, and Les Miserables
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footiehoemcfc · 1 year
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We'll be Alright
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Hi :) okay so this is the first fic I've ever written and the first one I've ever posted so I'm still new to trying and figuring out how this works. I've always wanted to write one and I had this concept on my notes for a while now. I also want to thank @carlottawllms and @cityfanchelseaslut because with just their writing they played a small part in inspiring me to do this <3. Anyways this will deff have a second part or three idk yet, but it will not be out until like a week or two cause I'm going a on a trip. I hope you like it and if you have feedback lmk ily. Angst, tw some curse words, 2.7k words PART 2, 3 and 4 (final) on my masterlist!
Life lately had been stressful to say the least. It had taken a toll on you and Mason. You were in the middle of a busy period with your company, a lot of meetings, projects and deadlines. On top of that, you’ve had family problems. Mason was dealing with social media scrutiny, transfer rumors, little to zero game time and it affected him, more than he liked to admit. You both were really just tired of everything and the only thing both of you wanted was a break from everything and be with one another. 
Your relationship was not new, but it was not long enough for it to have been through really rough patches. You knew at some point it would come though, Mason travels a lot and is always training. However, you always thought that whatever rough patch you’d go through would be easy with him since you two were pretty good at communicating. This hasn’t been the case at all. Ever since the new year Mason has been more and more distant and wanted to talk less about everything. You could feel it, you felt lonely. You felt like you were just there, you did not feel like his girlfriend, you felt like he didn’t love you as much. 
It was already dinner time and you were cooking for the both of you, something you always liked to do. You heard the front door open and Mason walk in through the door. You smiled at him and he gave you a smile as well. “Hi my love, smells good” he said as he placed his keys on the key holder. “Hi baby, thanks I’m making this Mexican bowl I saw on tiktok thought you might like it”, he came over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek saying “Thank you”. 
When you finished cooking, you both sat down and ate almost entirely in silence until he decided to tell you something you were not expecting. “I had a meeting with Lew and my dad today, about my contract”, you had no idea where this was going since it was pretty much the first time he was talking about this topic with you. You nodded for him to go on, “well I think a transfer would be the best option for me in the summer, there are a couple of clubs that have shown interest so…yea”. What? You thought to yourself. You were so confused. He had always wanted to stay here why is it changing all of a sudden? You met this boy 2 years ago, he would always go on and on about how much he loved the fans, the team, the staff, the stadium, the atmosphere, so how come he wants to leave now? At the beginning of the relationship you would’ve agreed immediately not being a huge Chelsea fan yourself, but after being with him and getting to know him, you could care less what club he was playing, you knew how much he loved living here and being on the team. Sure, this season has been far from what they thought it would be, but you were not expecting this. You had your doubts, why is he wanting a move now? 
“Hello, are you there?” Mason said chuckling interrupting you from all of your thoughts. “I thought you’d be more excited or happy about this…” he said, “No, I mean, yes, I’m just shocked sorry. I wasn’t expecting that, especially since you love it here and since I’ve known you you’ve never mentioned leaving or anything like that.” “Yea I know I never have but, you know my contract ends next year, the new offer is not ideal, and Lewis and my dad think it’s the best option” he said looking at you, “okay” you weren’t sure what to say. You knew it was not his idea. As much as he needed to take into consideration other people’s opinions on this matter, you thought it was best if he made a decision based on what he thought it was best for him. “Okayy what?” “Nothing” “Y/n I know you, you are biting your tongue”. 
Well, if you promised to be honest with him you would. “I just think…I mean is that what you really want? You want to leave? Or is it just the easy way out? Or just because your family said it was best you think it is?” you said this in a loving tone, trying to really figure out why he was trying to decide so quickly on this. “I-I do want this” he stuttered, you knew deep down he was still debating whether it would be a good idea or not. “Okay, then that’s fine” you said getting up and picking up your plate. He placed his fork down and looked frustrated. “You don’t believe me” “Mason plea-“ “This is going to be the best for me, I know you never really cared or supported chels but it will be the same with the new club so not much will change and it won’t be that hard for you” you stopped what you were doing while he said this. You never cared? You knew this would turn ugly now that both of you were getting more upset. “I never cared?! I always go to your games when I can, or I watch them from home. You know damn well wherever you go I will support you because you are my boyfriend” “Then why is this so bad for you?” “Because I know this is not what you want!” as much as you didn’t want to raise your voice, you were getting tired of trying to make him understand what bothered you.
You wanted him to be happy, and if that meant leaving then so be it, but it just confused you how he would make such a big decision in a span of a few hours without thinking about it more. Hell, he could barely decide what to wear for a night out in two hours. “It’s what I want now!” He had never raised his voice like this with you. You could cut the tension with a knife in the room. “Have you not seen the shit show this season has been!? Of course not, you’ve been busier than ever with your job and your office meetings.” “And don’t you think that maybe next year it will be different? You are bullshitting yourself into thinking that going to another place is the better option when you and I both know you’ve never ever dreamed of that. Just because people that love you want that for you does not mean you need to do it. Think for yourself. And I do care, I watch every single game of yours, I never say anything about it cause I know you come home upset and never talk to me about it…and that’s…that’s a whole other thing” whispering the last part and looking away. 
This was it. This was the rough patch you were anticipating with him. You didn’t want to have this fight but maybe it was for the best. You were not planning on telling Mason how you’ve felt the last couple of months to not add anything more on his plate, but tonight maybe would be the day. You were tired of it, the first time you are hearing about his contract is today, never discussing it with you. You knew it would be an option and you would follow him anywhere, but it hurt that he could never talk to you about it and have your input as well, every big decision you’ve made you would always ask his opinion. “What whole other thing?” “Mason…I feel like…I feel like the past 2-3 months I’ve just been trying for you to talk to me and for you to let me help you and you just don’t want it. I didn’t even know when you were injured, I find out today that you made up your mind about what you want to do, I never knew anything about this whole thing. I’m out of the loop on your life. I feel like I’m there for you or at least try to cause you don’t’ let me, and you never bother to be there for me, I’ve been going through a lot too at work and with my family.” After saying that you had no idea how this would go down. To be honest, recently you could never tell in which mood Mason would be. You did not blame him though, it has been incredibly hard for him, but you needed him as well.
After you said this his face, just said it all. “Y/n this whole year has been shit, I don’t need this” Ouch. You excepted different outcomes from this, but him not caring AGAIN was not one of them. “You don’t need what? Me? This relationship? To talk about it?” You were getting more and more upset, you felt like he was invalidating your feelings. “No, I don’t need more problems, I already have enough bullshit to deal with. I don’t talk to you about it because I know it will stress you out, more than you are already.” You scoffed hearing this. “Again, you don’t believe me fucking hell” “No I don’t Mason, how come you can open up and talk to your friends and not me?” Mason started grabbing his face and pacing around the room. He didn’t want to have this conversation, you could visibly tell. But you were adamant to figure out why he was being like this with you. “You are so selfish sometimes.” 
After everything you have done, for him to call you selfish was the tip of the iceberg. “Selfish!? Selfish? Are you being serious right now? Selfish because I want to feel like your fucking girlfriend again?!” “You are!” This was getting heated very quickly and you didn’t like it. What was supposed to be a nice dinner with him just turned into probably the biggest argument you two have ever had. “Mason” you tried calming yourself down to talk to him so he would do the same as well. “Listen, I feel the way I fee-“ “Do you like seeing me fail here to feel better about yourself? Is that what this is?” “What?” You were shocked. How did it go from you being selfish to know you wanting him to fail. It’s like both of you were throwing in everything, every single thought you two have had the past month because you haven’t been communicating. Being selfish was one thing, but him thinking that low of you hurt, specially because you have always rooted for him. “Where the hell did that come from?” You need to know if you did something to make him think that way, you were certain you hadn’t. “It doesn’t matter” he was about to walk to the main entrance of the house to go upstairs. “No, what is that about?” He stopped. He didn’t turn around, debating whether to keep arguing or just leave it and go upstairs. He finally turned around, “Jayden had that thought and…I don’t know I feel like now that you think I’m making the wrong decision maybe he is right” Jayden. The one friend of his that had some sort of vendetta against you. You were always nice to him, but he was a prick. You had your reasons to dislike him and Mason knew you two did not get along but you were not going to be that girlfriend that wants their boyfriend to cut someone off their lives. You were aware he didn’t like you too, why? He had always said Mason “settled” too quickly and he was too young to be “fucking around with just one girl”. Jayden loved going out, getting drunk and have a crazy night. Mason did not, but Jayden always thought it was you telling him not to go out drinking or something. 
You snapped back to reality. “Jayden? Out of all of your friends, you are going to believe Jayden? The guy who hates me for god knows what?” Mason was just blank, he was slowly realizing how ridiculous that sounded, especially since it was coming from someone who doesn’t really know you. But that, that was your tipping point. You felt like you had enough. First, being called selfish and now this. You wanted to cry, not because of the situation itself but because it hurt that after all the effort you’ve made to be there for him even thought you were having a hard time to, he would think like that. You gathered up the courage to say what you had to say, “well you know what, if you want to be talking to your friends about all of this and not me, go ahead. I’m done, and you can tell Jayden to go fuck himself, and so can you.” You walked up to the couch to grab your overnight bag, put your shoes and jacket on and leave. You did not want to be with him now. You felt like he was disrespecting you. He tried to stop you from leaving the kitchen. You realized that was not all you had inside you. 
“Y/n stop please, we can talk about this” just as you were about to open the front door, you decided to let it out. “Oh, now you want to talk. You want to believe what your friends say? Go ahead. I’ve been so patient Mason I really have. I’ve come here after every game to try and take your mind off it and the only way it worked was when it was sex, I’ve been trying for you to talk to me but no you have your stupid fucking friend, I’ve been trying to get you help and no you don’t need it and I’m worrying too much. I’ve been waiting for YOU to ask me how I am and actually care about my life as well but you haven’t cause you don’t. I’ve been feeling like a fucking ghost in your house and with you, all while I’ve felt like shit cause my job is killing me, I feel like I will literally break down any day now and I STILL make the fucking effort to come here because I know you are not okay after not winning another fucking game. So I am not selfish, I’m not against the idea of you leaving just because of me, I don’t like seeing you fail just to feel better about myself, I am just fucking tired of this and tired of feeling like shit and trying to figure out what the fuck I did wrong and if you still even love me because every time you’ve said it the last months it just sounds like you’re saying it out of habit. So, you figure out what you want, think whatever you want to think about me based on what your stupid friends say more specifically the same one that does not like me. I’m leaving.” It was like the weight of the world came off your shoulders. 
You never ever raise your voice or snap like this. But having felt so sad, unappreciated and just not loved made you say all of this. Mason just stood there listening to you. You tried getting all of it out without tearing up, but you couldn’t. You opened the door and left. Mason was hurt, he hated that you have felt that way for so long. He didn’t mean for it to become this huge. He knows he was wrong in assuming that of you, he knows he was wrong in believing something Jayden had said. He had no idea how was going to fix it, but he was determined to do it.
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ellieluvr420 · 29 days
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Eye for an Eye Pt.4
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MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!
SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.
I want to quickly stress that this is a darker fic and there will be a lot of darker, possibly triggering themes to do with mental health throughout so take that as a warning. I likely won't do warnings for each part because part of this fic for me is that you don't know what's going to happen until you read it so please do not read if you find graphic descriptions of mental illness and topics surrounding that triggering. But if you do read, thank you so much, this story is really important to me and I appreciate any interaction whatsoever!
Had this in my drafts and wasn’t gonna post until i finished chap 21 of friends?never but @moonspowder is holding their breath so had to get a move along 🤗
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    
You waited for Abby to fall asleep, it didn’t take long, she was clearly exhausted from the day of crying and grieving her beloved friends. You watched her sleep for a little while, imagining what it would look like when she wouldn’t wake again but you dragged yourself away to pack your backpack ready to go back to Ellie. You grimaced at the thought of seeing Ellie again, after your dramatic exit earlier you were sure you wouldn’t get a warm greeting but you didn’t care either way. You were going to make sure Nora died, not to see her. 
The walk there was tranquil, you heard a few screeches here and there but that was normal, it didn’t bother you, you had managed to sneak into the weapon armoury as its never got someone working it overnight and you were quite adept at picking locks so the added weight of your weapons and ammunition in your backpack acted as an anchor, comforting you and keeping you on this plane of existence instead of floating away into your mind like you had been all day. You had a rifle over your shoulder and Ellie’s switchblade in your hand, every time you looked down at it you smiled at the memory of pointing her own knife at her as you left earlier, it felt like you were mocking her and you liked it. 
You practically skipped up the steps of the fire escape, bounding in through the window gracefully and sauntering through to the stage where she was already sitting on one of the chairs in the front row waiting for you. You smirked at her as you made your way towards her where she scowled at you. 
“You’re a fucking bitch you know that?” She spat. 
“Well that’s not very nice.” 
“I specifically asked you not to tell Jesse and you tell him at the first opportunity. What the fuck was that for?” 
“Payback.” She rolls her eyes and stands, holding out her hand, you look at her puzzled until you remember the switchblade still firmly planted in your palm. You fold it back together and place it in your back pocket as you smile.  
“You’re being weird, what’s wrong with you?” 
“You don’t know what’s weird and what isn’t with me Ellie, you don’t know me so stop acting like you do ‘kay?” That didn’t help, stop being so defensive. She was right, this wasn’t you but if you had been you, you would’ve let her kill you before you agreed to hurt Abby, but you’re not you, and that’s the point. “I didn’t come here to chat so are you ready?” 
“Yep.” You turn on your heel and start walking back towards the window. 
“Jesse not joining us?” 
“No, he needs to rest his ankle and he’s not the biggest fan of you so it was best he stayed.” 
“Can’t imagine why he doesn’t like me.” You flash a coy grin over your shoulder and Ellie chuckles before she can even think to hold it in which makes her scowl in your direction even more. As you bend over to crawl through the window you feel Ellie’s fingers brush against your ass before a hand comes up and grabs your hip, holding you in place. You squirm and curse at her as her free hand dives into your pocket and retrieves her switchblade. You glare at her over your shoulder, and she sticks her tongue out at you. Childish. Even the subtle blush of her cheeks angered you as you made your way down the fire escape, her following closely behind. 
As you trailed along the dark paths of Seattle towards the park you planned to cut through, you wondered what could have happened if you had met Ellie before, under better circumstances. You know if you had met her before you had been ruined, darkened by the torment of love and hatred, you would have liked her, found her charming. Anything that you would’ve liked about her only drove you further from her, the thought of getting close to someone again, feeling for someone again, it made your blood run cold. You’d do whatever you had to do to keep your distance until everything was over. 
You reach a dead end that has you huffing as you notice the double doors slightly ajar to your right. “Fuck’s sake.” You mutter to yourself as Ellie comes to stand next to you. 
“What?” 
“Was hoping we wouldn’t have to cut through any buildings, but I guess I was wrong.” 
“No hold on a minute, if you can get me to the top of the wall I can pull you up.” You quirk an eyebrow at her, challenging her declaration, it wasn’t that you didn’t think she was strong, it was just a very high wall, it seemed like a long shot. 
“Well worth a try because these buildings are crawling with infected typically.” She nods and you walk to the wall, pressing your back against it and cupping your hands together.  
“You ready?” She checks as she puts her foot into your hands. 
“As I’ll ever be.” You nod and in sync she jumps up as you boost her and somehow she actually manages to grasp onto the top edge and pull herself up. It was impressive to watch, you hadn’t met anyone as adept as Abby until you met her. She lowers herself down and reaches an arm out to you. 
“Just jump and grab my hand and then don’t fucking let go okay?” 
“Yeah I got it.” You take a breath and leap as high as you can, the second you feel your hand in hers, you breathe a sigh of relief, she starts slowly pulling you up and the second you can you grab onto the ledge to help her for the last bit. Once you’re both over the wall she stands with her hands on her hips and a smug look on her face. “I swear if you say I told you so.” 
“I wasn’t gonna say a thing, you said it for me.” She smiles and you continue walking without looking to see if she followed but you know she has from the faint patter of her footsteps. 
The entrance to the park comes into view at the same time that you hear a high-pitched whistling. “The fuck is that?” Ellie whispers. 
“Scars. We’ll take it slow and just try and sneak around them okay, keep your head down and stay quiet.” 
“Yes ma’am.” You glare at her before creeping forward, this time checking she’s following. The whistles grew louder as you moved deeper into the forest until you heard a blood-curling scream, followed by begs and pleads from another WLF soldier. “What the fuck.” Ellie whispers next to you as you both see the soldiers strung up from trees, one with his organs dangling from his body and the other flailing about desperately as he screams and tries to bargain for his life. “Do you know them?” 
“Yeah I know the one they haven’t cut open yet. Daniel.” 
“Oh, sorry.” 
“Don’t be, I’m not.” She scoffs in disbelief at your bluntness as you keep moving until you hear the swish of an arrow cutting through air and the fleshy squelch of it landing in a body. You turn to see Ellie lying on the floor grunting as she yanks at the arrow. You immediately spot the scar heading straight for you and you lunge at her, digging your knife into her neck and yanking it out, her blood splattering over you, painting you skin red. Just more blood on your hands. It will all be over soon. You return to Ellie and kneel beside her. “Hey, hey, let me do it.” She nods and as you snap the arrow so you can pull it out easier, she gasps and squeezes your arm as she clamps her eyes shut. Her hand burns your skin, you needed to get this done quickly. 
“You better be right-handed.” You say trying to lighten the mood as you yank the arrow from her left shoulder, she whimpers slightly but as soon as it’s out, she breathes a sigh of relief. 
“Yeah I’m right-handed.” She watches as you pull your backpack off and retrieve a bandage from the front pocket. “You came prepared.” 
“I was actually planning to leave this time so yeah I did. Take your shirt off.” 
“Wh- why?” 
“So I can wrap this bandage around it. I’m not tryna cop a feel, relax. Just take your arm out of the shirt.” 
“Right.” She winces as she pulls her left arm from the shirt and you press the end of the bandage to the seeping wound before grabbing her hand and pressing it onto the hole firmly. You wrap the bandage round her shoulder and under her armpit as tight as you can before ripping it and tying it off then helping her back into her shirt. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah but we need to keep moving.” You help her up and begin sprinting towards the exit of the park until you’re no longer surrounded by foliage, instead comforted by the urban forest that you found a lot easier to navigate.  
“See through those two buildings there, that’s the hospital. We’re not that far away now.” You were half telling yourself that and half telling her. It’s not like it would get easier the closer you got to the hospital, but the closer you got, the closer Nora was to meeting her demise. That’s why you were here. To make sure she died, that’s it. 
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   
 
The sound of ‘it was a good day’ by Ice Cube rang through the halls, one of yours and Abby’s favourite’s. You thought it was ironic, that particular song playing while Nora gets slaughtered, poetic almost. “There’s a door on the other side of the room, I’m gonna go round and make sure she can’t run through there. Just wait a couple minutes before you go in, yeah?” 
“You’re not coming in with me?” And let Nora blow yours and Abby’s relationship wide open? No, you were not going in there.  
“No, I’m gonna make sure no one comes and finds us. Why? You want a little company?” 
“You made your point.”  
“Make it hurt.” You mutter before walking off round the corner to go find the door. The song ringing through your ears causing a slideshow of memories with Abby to flash through your mind, you shake them away as the door comes into view, you press your ear to the door and as you hear Ellie’s voice inside you get to work barricading the door, you slam yourself into the large metal cabinet to scrape it across the floor until it’s firmly in front of the door. You moved slowly to make as little noise as possible, the music covering your plight well. You go back to pressing your ear against the door just as you hear Ellie’s disgruntled voice. 
“You fucking cunt- Agh!” A crash and then the handle shaking violently as Nora tries to make her escape, you can’t stop yourself from popping up in the glass pane of the door and smiling with a little wave and tilt of your head. She whispers your name as her face screws up before you disappear from the glass again leaving her and Ellie alone. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you barely felt human anymore, it’s her fault, it’s their fault, it’s your own fault too but you’d fix that soon enough. You appear at the other door and glance through the window. Nora’s on the floor, unmoving as Ellie stands over her with a large metal pipe in her hand, the end dripping with crimson. You notice the tremor of the pipe, the rigid stance of Ellie as she stands over Nora, and then she thrashes the pipe down onto her, again and again. Was this what Ellie had witnessed when she found you at Hillcrest? You needed to get moving so you enter the room quietly and as she lifts the pipe again you grab it and yank it out of her hand. She spins to face you and you feel like she might kill you there and then for stopping her. “You got her. We gotta go.” She nods and lets you lead her out of the room, and out of the hospital into the cool night air. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t move without a nudge from you, she doesn’t notice when a runner creeps up on her from behind until you’re ripping it off of her, throwing it to the ground and stomping its head into the cement underneath you. If you don’t sort her out soon, she’d get you both killed so you drag her into a nearby house, sitting her down on the sofa before checking it’s clear and securing the doors and windows then returning to her. “Ellie, I need you to focus. We need to get back to the theatre, so I need you to focus.” 
“I- I shouldn’t have done that.” 
“Why?” 
“I should’ve just killed her. I’m as bad as them. I made it hurt.” She looked up at you and suddenly that familiar feeling you thought you were free from comes rushing back like it had never left. Guilt was crushing, it was worse than any physical pain you could ever describe. Your whole body ached and twinged as every nerve felt like it was on fire. You crouched down to make her look at you, attempting to distract yourself from your own inner turmoil with hers.  
“Ellie, look at me.” Her eyes flick up to yours as you cup her cheeks with your hands. “She fucking deserved it, they all deserve it. You’re gonna do this and you’re gonna go back home and forget about this place and everything in it. You’re gonna go be happy with your girlfriend and your friends and you’re gonna move on but you have to make it out of here alive first, so I need you to focus.” She doesn’t say anything, she just mirrors your own hands as she cups your cheeks, your skin burns.  
“I don’t know how to be happy anymore, I don’t think I can go back to the life I had before all of this.” She leans in and your eyes widen as you put a hand on her chest. 
“Ellie, don’t do this to yourself. Dina is what you need.” 
“I don’t know how to be what she needs.” She leans in again and you can’t shake the feeling you’re taking advantage of her, she’s vulnerable, she’s grieving, you can’t do this.  
“Ellie, you don’t want this. You’re confused, this would be a mistake that you’ll regret every day. Think about Dina.” 
“She doesn’t look at me the same anymore, Jesse doesn’t other, they don’t get it. You do. Please, I know what I need, I need this. I need to feel real, like I’m not just a heartless killer, I know you understand that.” Fuck, she’s right. You know it’s wrong, everything’s wrong, she’s not Abby but in your eyes, Abby isn’t Abby anymore. She changed and she changed you with her. Why did cheating feel so wrong when you were fantasising and planning on killing her? Why did you feel bad for a girl you hadn’t even seen? Everything you were doing was driving you further into that bottomless black pit that you’d never escape from. It was pointless trying to fight the darkness slowly squeezing the life out of you, so why are you still trying? It would all go away soon so why fight it? You started all of this because the hurt they had enacted on you caused a large gaping abscess to form where your heart used to be but now, now you had lost control, blinded by your rage, by your bloodlust. She was right, you needed to feel real, just once more before it all ends, before everything catches up to you, it would sooner or later, catch up to you. You just needed to feel real. 
You sighed and looked into her eyes before nodding gently and leaning towards her, closing the already small gap between you both. Your lips pressed together, cautiously at first, her hands moving down to your hips and squeezing tentatively. This wasn’t right, you half expected to see a monster looking back at you next time you looked in a mirror, how could a broken heart do this much damage? Were you overreacting? Were you like this all along and Abby just gave you an excuse to show your true colours? You just needed comfort, affection, from someone who hadn’t set your heart on fire and stomped it into the ground. You just needed some comfort. 
Ellie sucked your tongue into her mouth as you straddled her hips, desperation seeping through your pores as you latched onto her hair and yanked her head back to give you access to her neck, you pecked at the skin just below her ear and as you went to suck you had to stop yourself, you couldn’t leave any traces of your evil on her pale skin. Her hands squeezed at your thighs as she nudged your cheek with her nose to get you to face her once again. The air was dense, it was clogging your throat, any time you pulled away you felt like the air was sucked out of you and your body was being crushed. You couldn’t take it, you couldn’t understand how it made you feel so much more immoral than anything you had done over the past few days, yet it still made you feel alive for the first time in months. 
Ellie could barely think, barely function, all she could focus on was your lips on hers as her hands roamed your body. Any time Dina would pop into her mind she’d just press herself further into you, it blocked everything else out. How could she go back to her normal life, after everything, after you? She knew you didn’t feel the same way, she could tell, this was just a necessity to you, a distraction, but to her, it was everything, it was like you were letting her be the version of her that rose from the ashes of Joel’s death, not trapping her in a cage of who she used to be.  
“I’m sorry Ellie, I’m so, so sorry.” Your voice was cracking and trembling as you spoke but when you opened your eyes to see hers still closed, no reaction to what you had said, the panic set in. Not again. “I’m sorry Ellie, please hear me, I’m sorry, I’ve ruined you too. I’m sorry.” You were practically screaming as tears rolled down your cheeks. This time her eyes snapped open again but they were only filled with lust, something else that you couldn’t decipher but you didn’t want to. 
“I needed this too, thank you.” She breathed out and your stomach churned, your hand immediately going to your cheek to feel that it was completely dry, you heaved at the feeling and jumped off of her, you’ve lost it, you’re barely connected to your body anymore, some outside force controlling it.  
Her eyes went glassy as her jaw dropped open slightly at your sudden change in demeanour. “Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was small, shameful as she averted her eyes from your manic ones. 
“No I- I heard something, we need to move, we’re too close to the hospital.” 
“Oh... okay.” She looked like a beaten puppy as she stood and grabbed her backpack, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. You tore your eyes away from her to look out the window and make sure it was safe to leave before turning back to her and taking in her features, her hair messy and tangled, her cheeks blushed, and her lips parted as her chest rose and fell heavily. You stared as she stared back until you took a breath and went to reach for the doorhandle, but it wasn’t there. Instead, your fingers found the bottom of the window that you had left ajar upon your exit of the theatre. You snapped your head towards it and screeched as you yanked it upwards and threw yourself through the opening. You turned back and you felt your body go cold as Abby was standing behind you, climbing through the window with eyes so dark you thought they were black. The blue was no longer there, replaced by inky darkness that matched the background, the theatre seeping away from your vision and leaving only you and her. You screamed and cried as she inched closer to you, you tried to scramble away but she snatched your ankle back towards her and climbed on top of you, squeezing your chin as her eyes stared into your soul and sucked it out of you. Your whole body tingled before going numb as a single tear rolled down your cheek at the sick grin that twisted her lips upwards mocked you. 
“Hey, come on, wake up, fuck please wake up, what the fuck?” Ellie’s voice boomed through your head, light blinded you as you used every ounce of strength in you to open your eyes only to come face to face with Ellie peering over you. “What the fuck was that? You just passed out as you went through the window.” 
“S-sorry, I- I dunno what happened.” 
“What do you mean you don’t know?” 
“I mean I don’t fucking know.” You could never tell her what you had seen, what was happening to you, you couldn’t even begin to verbalise it. You sat up and surveyed your surroundings, you were at the theatre, you had blacked out for at least an hour, best case. You needed to fix this, you needed to get home before Abby wakes up.  
“Are you okay? Let me help you up.” She goes to lift you up but you smack her hands away, you didn’t know why you were agitated but you were, you needed her not to touch you or look at you or breathe near you because your skin was itching and you felt like you were a bomb seconds away from exploding. 
“I got it, I’m fine, okay? I’m probably just over-tired.” You walk away from her and disappear through the curtains as she follows you down to the chairs where you dropped your backpack and began pacing. She sat beside the backpack and pulled her arm out of her grey t-shirt once again to look at the bandages that were now stained red and leaking onto the hand she pressed on the wound. 
“I don’t suppose you’ve got anymore bandages you wouldn’t mind sharing.” 
“Yeah, front pocket of my backpack.” You would’ve got them for her but you couldn’t stand still right now, you needed to keep moving as you begged for the memory of the journey from the hospital to the theatre to return to you but there was not even a second of it you could remember. 
Ellie watched you for a second before going to the front pocket of your backpack and routing around it. Her hands brushed over something thin and smooth, a piece of paper but not like the paper in her journal, like film almost. She knew she shouldn’t snoop but you didn’t seem like the type to share and she just wanted to know more about you so she flipped the polaroid over to look at the picture and the sight made bile rise to her throat as she clutched it and brought it closer to her face. You were completely unaware of her actions as your back was turned to her mostly but her eyes still flicked between you and the polaroid. “What the fuck is this?” She spat as she stood and stormed over to you. 
“Hm?” You turned and immediately a polaroid fluttered at you, landing on the floor at your feet. Your hand shook as you picked it up and realised what she was talking about. The polaroid was of you and Abby, her kissing your cheek and you beaming at the camera, with ‘my love’ written in sharpie on the thick white border. “I- Ellie...” You whispered as you refused to look up at her. 
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Her hands thrust you backwards sending you stumbling as she reaches behind her jeans and yanks her pistol out, aiming it right at your heart. You don’t move, you don’t look away, you just stare back at her eyes that were fiery with rage as her lips sneered at you. 
tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv@a-little-bit-of-everybody@chrry1ovr
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oddballwriter · 7 months
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Triplets?!
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Summary: A dumb thought I had and decided to write. 
Warnings: There isn't anything that I can think of other than just a misunderstanding that leads to something funny 
Author’s Snip: This was just a silly little post that I had come to mind when I heard the one MBMbam clip where its a person talking about how they call their male friends their "boys" and a drive thru worker thinks that the person is a parent, also a little bit of Reba McEntire's I'm a Survivor "A single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops" meme. This whole thing is kind of just a writing shit post.
Notes: This isn't proof read 
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
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It was an inside joke. With yourself.
As a joke you would call your Marc, Steven, and Jake your triplets even though they were your boyfriends. It was kind of like when a mom says "I have two children, three if you want to include my husband.". It wasn't meant to be mean. It was just a light hearted joke since they can sometimes be everywhere and your sense of domestically can be hectic.
Speaking of domestic things, you were currently grocery shopping but line was painfully long and slow for whatever reason. It wasn't all bad though. There was this nice lady named Cathy behind you, and you two had started having a full conversation after she made small talk about how long the line was. She was an older woman, maybe in her mid to late forties. You had offered to switch spots in line since she had more in her cart than you but she said she didn't mind and that you should be quicker either way. You could tell she was a mom just by the looks of her and how she was acting. She wasn't exactly mothering you but she was talking like how most moms talk to younger people compared to her.
Your conversations topic had just changed to something else when your phone rang. It was Steven.
"Oh, one of my triplets." you mumble under your voice before answering. The call wasn't much. He just called to ask if everything's alright since you've been out for longer than you said you would and some other things before you ended the call with an "I love you, bye.".
"Wow. Three of them? Huh?" Cathy smiled. You looked at her confused for a moment before realizing that she might have heard your mumble.
"That must be chaos." she said. "I have issues wrangling my kids and they're all different ages!" she adds with a laugh. You just nod along, but she still goes on with the new subject.
"How old are they?" Cathy asked, to which you respond with "Thirteen." since that seemed like a reasonable age for a 'kid' to have a phone. "Oh my gosh! Three of them and they're teenagers?" she pitied. "At such a young age like you too. Sweetheart, you deserve a metal." Cathy praised. "It's not that bad." you say as you try and go along with this accidental act you placed on yourself, "Only one of them is a troublemaker. The other two... well they stay inside at least." you joke, mostly for yourself.
Cathy had actually become very chatty and mostly took up the subject. She talked about how her eldest, Kimberly, was sixteen and that she was starting to talk to boys and stay out. Her second eldest, Noah, was starting to have an attitude with her. The middle, Jackie, was having issues in getting along in the classroom and during recess. And her toddler, Marie, was leaning manners and "That's going as good as you think it is." as Cathy put it.
You wanted to stop her so that you could leave but she was just so nice, and sounded like she needed to vent out some stress, so you let her go on while the casher checked out both you and her carts. Cathy did give you the note that her husband was also involved in the kids too but since she's a stay at home she was the frontline.
You felt a bit sad when you had to leave and head home. You didn't know if you'd meet Cathy ever again but you already missed her and said your goodbyes to her, with her of course saying "And best of luck with your triplets.".
When you got home Steven was there to help take in the bags but at a certain point when you locked eyes and laughed he asked what was up.
"There's a forty-something year old woman named Cathy somewhere in town and she thinks I'm a parent with teenage triplets." you confess.
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sunnylands-world · 1 year
Note
So I’d like to request a Draco mafia fanfic. Where someone disrespects the reader and it angers him.
FINE LINE
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Pairing: Mafia draco x fem reader
Summary: Draco is a far man he hears bullshit all day but they cross a fine line when it comes to you...
Word count: 729
Warning: language, offense things are said about females [not by Draco], mentions of blood, use of a gun
Universe: mafia
A/n: okay I was supposed to post this at three in the morning but I fell asleep before I could 😭 anyway hope you like it I loved this idea and I had so much fun with writing it so thank you anon and please SHOW SUPPORT IF YOU READ THIS
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Draco was never interested in the conversation that took place during these meetings. He just needed the deal, but occasionally he'd run into these talkative bitches who wanted to drink whiskey and complain about their wife's, hints why he called them talkative bitches. They complain all the time. He couldn't care less. Why were they bitching when they had enough money to stop worldwide hunger? They didn't do shit.
They've just been drinking and buying. He thought it was funny they had so many complaints. They were more women than their wives and they [their wives] did more than them. They cooked, cleaned and had babies. The least they could do was let them spend money on the things that make them happy.
"Yeah, like how do rich and wealthy men attract poor sluts," said one of them. Draco couldn't give a shit about his name he wanted to say it was Oliver but the topic made him snicker as he listened in.
"Okay, I mean, I earn all the money just for them to spend."
Probably 'cause you sit on your ass like a lazy bitch that nobody wants to be around, so she's out there screwing one of the drivers.
"All I'm saying is I make the money, I should be decided who spends it and it damn sure shouldn't be going to fucking diapers and sippy cups."
"Amen to that!"
You should have used a condom, selfish motherfuckers.
"Poor Draco over their quiet as a sleeping baby, your wife got you tied down?" Draco took a look at the bald man, but failed to reply which caused laughter to fill the room.
What the fuck is so funny?
"Don't worry man I get it, I had one just like that whore wife of yours working the pole for money. Had no talents before you right?"
Draco glared, his blue eyes turning dark as he let out a dry laugh.
"What the fuck did you say?" The room fell silent as the question left his lips. All eyes were on him for his mistake.
Draco thought he was a straightforward man. He had two rules, one of which was to make the deal so that everybody would be happy and no one would die, and two, not to disrespect the queen.
When Draco met you, you were a stripper, but you had to pay college tuition and your job at the café didn't cover everything. Of course, when you got together, he paid it all for you. You were studying now peacefully and he was satisfied with you kicking your feet up and working hard for your degree, but sometimes people made the mistake of disrespecting you the way this fat fucker did and he did not take well to people talking about you at all.
Now the guy wasn't stupid. He knew once the room went quiet, he made a mistake. Draco's hand was placed on his weapon and an inhuman glance was on his face. Everything was intended to be simple. Come to the casino, make the exchange and leave, but he couldn't let that pass, because you weren't a whore at a club. You were the queen to the biggest Mafia leader.
"Come on, man, you're not seriously upset about some bitch." he laughs, swallowing his fear.
Bitch?
"Look, I'm sure she would understand that it's all a joke. I didn't mean any harm, it's just the truth after all."
Sure, you might but Draco didn't find it amusing and you weren't here right now. Draco stood to his feet from the leather couch, aiming the gun at the prick resting into the chair, his eyes wide in fear as he realized what's to come. The gun fires. The loud noise with the muzzle flash sending a fire colored hue through the room as one bullet is shot through his head and the other in his nuts.
The blood splattered on his face like paint flickered on a canvas, Draco's jaw clenched as he pulled the trigger. He took the gun placing it on a red napkin before he wiped it clean putting it back.
"Get rid of this pig and get my fucking money." he says, walking from the private room and heading home to you.
If you didn't get it from what just happened, you don't mess with the queen. That's a warning.
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@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa
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deanwritings · 7 months
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The Guest House - Prologue
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Pairing: Dean x Reader
Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.
The Guest House Master List
Word Count: 2,225
A/N: Welcome to the start of The Guest House! This little bitty came to me while I was staying at a lake house and relaxing, so really excited to dive in.
Chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesdays.
If you would like to be tagged in the series, just leave a comment or shoot me a message and I'll get you added.
Enjoy!
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You dig your nails into your fingertips as they sit in your lap underneath the table. Your heart was finally leveling off as your review was coming to an end. So far your marks had been glowing; your metrics were up, your peer reviews were stellar, all that was left was to hear if they would be promoting you.
You’ve been working for that next step for a year and a half now. After most of your team quit, you took the opportunity to show your bosses that you could run the department with a can-do attitude and hard work. You’ve brought up a promotion a few times at your check-ins with your boss, and she assured you it would be a topic of conversation at your next review, which would be ending in the next few minutes. 
With a polite smile, you look across the table at your direct manager and her boss.
“Any questions?” Your boss asks plainly, and your brow furrows as you look between them. If you didn’t know any better, it sounded like they were wrapping up the meeting.
Your lips fall apart and your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what’s about to happen.
“Uh,” you start as you squeeze your fists together. “I was hoping to discuss my possible promotion.” You loosen your smile as you try to keep your eye contact divided between both of them.  
The two share a small look. 
You’re not getting promoted. Is what that looks says. 
Your boss’ boss clears his throat as he readjusts in his seat. 
“After reviewing your performance, we do not feel a promotion is appropriate at this time.” He says with a tinge of forced sorrow. 
Your stomach plummets as your jaw clenches. 
How could they not be promoting you? You’ve been working the job of at least three people for over a year now without complaint. You’ve spent countless days staying late and making sure projects didn’t fall wayside while the company took their sweet ass time looking for replacements for your team.To their own admission, your metrics were good, so why the hell wasn’t your hard work being recognized?
“I don’t understand.” You swallow to keep your voice from shaking. You never pushed back on your bosses. Ever. But you thought today was the day you were finally going to be rewarded for everything you’ve done for them. 
“You just said that my metrics were up and I was performing above expectations. What is hindering him from getting a promotion then?” 
The two look at each other again and you can feel yourself beginning to shake as they bide their time for an excuse. 
“Y/N, you have performed well this past year for the most part, but there were concerns with your performance in January.” Your boss folds her tanned hands on the faux wood tabletop as she speaks up. “You let things fall through the cracks and were distant from your work. We feel that is not reflective of someone who should hold a Senior Management position.” She offers a soft smile and a shitty excuse. 
It takes your brain a moment to catch up with what they were talking about; January. Two months ago. Your aunt passed away suddenly from a heart attack as she was making dinner. You can still hear your mother’s cries over the phone as she called to tell you the news that her sister was dead. And at only 52. 
You were only able to take one day off from work for her funeral, as you were in the middle of a project launch and it was all hands on deck. When you returned, yeah, you were “distant.” You were mourning the loss of a woman you loved dearly while trying to help your mother and cousins navigate their grief as well. Your aunt’s passing also made you scared for your own mother, who is a few years older, and some night’s you couldn’t sleep as you thought about life without your best friend. It took you weeks to shake free from the heartbreak and anxiety that had engulfed you, but you came back strong and started excelling once more. 
And there your bosses sat, in the all-glass meeting room of the shared workspace your company rented out because they were too cheap to get a full-blown office, throwing your aunt’s death in your face and using it as the excuse as to why they would not be promoting you after more than eighteen months of slaving away for them with barely a thank you. 
You laugh through your nose and shake your head as you swallow hard.
“We’re happy to talk more about this in a few months at your next check-in.” Your boss jumps in, and you bite down on your lip. “We know you’re committed to this company and role, and we want to make sure we help you get to the next level.” She smiles at you like she actually believes the bullshit she’s spouting. 
You take a deep breath and genuinely smile back. You always prided yourself on keeping a cool head, especially at work. But a line had crossed, and even for you, enough was now enough. 
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Your boss ticks her head at your words. “Because I quit.” You stand up and smile down at the two asshats you gave everything for, and now realize, you would never get anything in return from them. 
Both of their mouths fall open as they share a shocked look between them.
“Y/N, let’s not do anything rash.” Your boss’ boss stands as well, holding his hands up. “There’s no need to jump to something like this. I’m sure there’s something we can work out” 
You push your chair in, your smile not wavering.
“I feel that this review is not reflective of a company I want to work for anymore.” You throw their words back to them. “I’ll have no issue finding a new role that values my hard work and dedication, and won’t use a family member’s death as a reason to squirrel out of a rightful promotion.”
“Best of luck filling my role.” You turn on your heel and hurry down the hallway to your shared office. A few coworkers glance up at your haste entrance, but you ignore them as you grab your purse and start grabbing the few personal effects that would fit on your tiny, shared desktop; just a single, unframed picture of you, your parents, and your brother, a few fidget toys, and your favorite pens. The rest belonged to the company, just like you had. 
Without a word, you fling your purse onto your shoulder and with your head held high, carry yourself out of the office without a single glance back. As you step onto the elevator, you smirk as you watch through the all-glass walls as your bosses shout at one another before the doors close.
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“You what?” Your mother gasps through the phone at your news. You knew your parents weren’t going to take this well, and you were prepared for it.
“I quit.” You repeat, even though you know she heard you the first time.
“Y/N, what on God’s green earth would make you quit without another job lined up?” She huffs. 
You think about your Aunt Rose, how your bosses used your grief as an excuse not to give you a well-earned promotion. She was always free spirited, having career-jumped her whole life. She started as a bartender, then worked as a sous chef for a catering company before she decided she wanted to be a radio DJ. Years before she died, she had gotten her real estate license and was working as an agent right up until she passed. You had always been the opposite, very much a mirror of your mother. You went to a good college and got a business degree. You had worked for a few companies over the years, but you always stayed in the same field, working your way up the ladder. You never wanted to take a risk with your career, you had worked too hard. But working hard got you nothing but late nights and a bullshit yearly review. 
To say you were exhausted was an understatement. And you can barely recall the last time you got together with your friends, let alone a date. You had married your job and it had been a toxic and loveless relationship. 
It was time to start fresh and take some time for yourself. Which is exactly why you had seventeen tabs of house rentals open on your laptop screen as you half-listen to your mother as she continues to admonish your rash decision. 
“It’s going to be good for me, mom.” You cut her off once you’ve finally had enough of her harping. You loved the woman to death, but my god once you wind her up, she doesn’t stop. 
“I have enough savings to comfortably get me through six months without a job. I’m going to take a few weeks off to reset, then I’ll hit the ground running with the job search.” You cross your legs as you languidly swipe through rental photos. 
After a few more minutes, you finally hang up the phone and start seriously considering your options. 
You wanted to get away upstate, not so far away that you couldn’t get back for anything important, but far enough to feel like the city wasn’t in your rearview mirror. You figured a month would be the perfect time. Four weeks of a quiet town to relax and rediscover your love of reading and writing. It’s been ages since you actually sat down and read a good book. You were never good at art, but maybe you’d even find a studio to do some painting or finally give pottery a try. For the first time in your life, your time would be your own to sleep in and do whatever you wanted with your days. 
As you click through listings, you notice one that is significantly cheaper than the rest. Curiously, you click the link and a gray-sided cabin with a red tin-looking roof brightens up in front of you.
NEW LISTING! Private Guest House, Hot tub included.
One bedroom guest house available for rent. Relax in the peacefulness of upstate while being a short driving distance to town. The guest house has a full bathroom, complete with tub. There is also a hot tub on the patio that is for guest enjoyment. 10 minutes from downtown with plenty of bars and shops to keep you busy. The owner lives on the main property, but will keep to themself unless you need anything. Perfect for anyone looking to getaway! 
As you click through the photos, you’re greeted with a warm, wooden interior, a wood burning stove, a fairly updated kitchen, and a queen bed with an adjacent master bath. 
The cabin feels a little too good to be true for the price, and you click “Contact Owner” at the bottom of the page.
“Hello,” You start your chat. “I’m interested in potentially renting your guest cabin for four weeks. The place looks lovely but I wanted to ask if there are any issues I should be aware of since the price is so much more reasonable than other listings on this site.” 
You were hoping there were no gimmicks, you’ve heard horror stories before, and with no reviews, you wanted to do your due diligence. 
After you send the chat, you step away to make a quick dinner, chicken and ramen, comfy and warm, before you settle back onto the couch to watch your favorite reality show. You’re about to press play when you notice a response in your inbox. 
“Hi there. Totally understand your concern. I just put the listing up today and am offering a discounted rate for the first few renters to help get traffic to our rental and start getting reviews. Let me know if you have any questions.” You shrug at the perfectly reasonable response and you click on the circular picture of the brunette next to the message, opening the owner’s profile.
LISA BRAEDEN (Host)
0 Reviews | 1 Month Renting
Lisa’s confirmed information
Identity ✓
Email address ✓
Phone number✓
Proud wife and owner of a unique property. I am a certified yoga instructor and have been teaching and practicing for over 15 years. I love a good glass of wine, a well-cooked meal, and traveling to new places. 
You stare at the picture of the smiling, long-haired, tanned brunette. She’s absolutely beautiful. Probably a few years older than you and seems down to earth in a regular tshirt. 
Honestly, considering you were out of a job, the discounted price would really come in handy. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty taking a full month off before you started your job hunt. 
You click back to the rental’s profile and put in your dates. You take a deep breath before clicking RESERVE and putting in your payment details.  Your rental has been confirmed. The message pops up. With a thousand-watt smile, you shut your laptop and settle into your couch. In just a few days, you would be on your way to a new beginning.  
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A/N: Fun fact, the first half of this was inspired by true events. Sadly, I didn't quit on the spot, but I did shortly after with a 10x better job.
And know we didn't get to see Dean yet, but I promise he will be in the next chapter!
Anywho, stealing this from the lovely @zepskies
NEXT TIME:
“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.
“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.
“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?” 
“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.
“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.  
“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him. 
“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever. 
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Forever 
@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213
TGH
@suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @spnbaby-67 @jackles010378 @itsdesiree86 @becca-rebel38
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Text
THTH 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Ransom Drysdale
Summary: You have a secret, but what do you do when it threatens to come out.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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“Ugh, goddamn it,” you hiss as you reach your phone to the sky. The signal is shit around here. You watch the little circle, waiting for a check mark to appear; nothing.
Three days. The bandwidth has been in and out for three days and you haven’t been able to upload a single thing. Not even a message. This is dumb. You growl at your phone and toss it on your bed. It bounces and hits the wall.
You huff and cross your arms. It’s not fair. Those three days could’ve made you money. You can’t even leech off the library wifi because of the content filters. So ridiculous. You’re just trying to make a living.
A tap comes at the door and you flinch. You quickly scoop up your phone and go to the door. You tuck it in your back pocket and pull your shirt down to cover the top. You open the door and peek out at your mom.
“Everything okay?” She asks.
“Uh, yep, just dropped something.”
“Oh, nothing broke, I hope.”
“All good,” you smile. She chews her lip anxiously, as she often does. “I’ll be down for dinner soon. Smells good.”
“Alright,” she says, “it’s almost done. Your favourite; spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Mmm, awesome.”
You shut the door and roll your eyes. Spaghetti isn’t your favourite. It’s what she says is your favourite. Just like everything else, it has to fit within her rules. If she says you like yellow, well then, you like yellow. It isn’t worth the argument to have a personality.
You take out the phone again. You nearly squeal as the check mark turns green. It sent! Just a text post notifying your few followers of the unexpected technical difficulties. You’ll be fortunate if they don’t bleed off to the other girls. When there’s so much variety, you can’t expect horny men not to hop on the next page with a pretty girl in lacy underwear…or less.
You scroll down but the rest of the posts show the blank blocks, pulsing as they struggle to load. You check the menu. Signal’s gone again. Welp, at least that went through.
You go to your bed and hide your phone under the mattress. Your parents know about your laptop, that’s your alibi. You tell them you do transcription work online. That doesn’t pay enough so you have the secret phone for your real business; you.
It isn’t exactly a career but it’s a means to an end. You’ll save up enough and be out of Hammer Ford in no time. You’re almost twenty and running out of time. A gap year is expected, but two? That’s sad.
Besides, you’re done with this life. You need out of this house. You are an adult. Your parents can’t make you eat your peas or ban you from the romance section in the library. One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be free.
For now, you’re going to go downstairs and pretend your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs isn’t complete mush.
📱
Days pass as you stare helplessly at the flashing bars in the corner of your phone. Damn phone company. The data plan was supposed to be a backup, even if you could only afford the cheapest vendor on the market. You at least thought it would work!
You manage to get a decent signal up on Thunder Lane by the hotel. It might be worth it to just walk in and get their wifi. You don’t think they’d care much. There aren’t many guests passing through now, are there?
The only benefit of your forced break is how much time it gave you to create new content. You choose the set of photos you took with the bunny ears and the barely there white teddy. You quickly flick through the settings and set the paywall. At least you’ll have money coming in before…
Yep, no internet. You’re lucky even that went through. You roll your eyes and hop back in the family oldsmobile. Your mother doesn’t let you have it often but you told her you were going for coffee and would fill up the tank.
As you roll up to the sleepy main row of Hammer Ford, your phone vibes. You quickly put it back to silent and check the notification. Your data’s flickering as you see the first response to your post. That was quick. Turns out someone did miss you.
_ransom_ware commented: ‘welcome back, bunny’.
You tap on the bubble but the app won’t load. Damnit! At least you have automatic deposit enabled. His tip will hit your account in a couple days.
You get out of the car and cross the street to the bakery. You could butter your mom up with some tarts, maybe convince her to let you take the car into the city. That might be your best chance at catching up. You could schedule posts and not have to fight with the damn countryside desolation.
As you enter the bakery, it’s quiet. There’s one person at a table. You don’t recognise him. He has his back to you so you don’t think much of it. Probably just another lumber worker sating their repressed sweet tooth. Although, he is dressed a bit too nice for that. No plaid or denim? Huh.
You go up to the counter and order a half-dozen cherry tarts and a latte. You pay with the secret credit card you use for your online transactions and thank the girl behind the counter. As you turn, you find the man at the table turned in his seat. He glances at you as you carry out the tray of tarts and coffee.
You’re used to the stares. The men in Hammer Ford aren’t exactly subtle and your nights at The Horn have earned you a reputation, though those stories don’t make it past your front door. It’s just a little fun, you have a pint and tie your shirt above your belly button and dance. Nothing serious.
Your mom and dad are too chaste and pious to ever wander into the bar. It’s your escape, your safe space. Just for now. Just until you can get out of this hell hole.
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