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#i wish i had money to blow on sh
Everything Right/Wrong with Ninjago “Legacy of the Green Ninja” E2: Pirates Vs. Ninja
Disclaimers: Show owned by LEGO. This is not a professional review/critique - it’s mainly intended for comedy.
- Intro ✅
- Soto writes in his journal vertically ❌
- Actual dr*nk pirate in a kids show ❌
- “… the fabled Island of Darkness.” Foreshadowing ✅
- First 2 minutes of a kids show depicts a pirate crew dying violently at sea… maybe this is why they were allowed to show the dr*nk guy ❌
- “Woah, grasshopper!” Grasshopper ✅
- “How about some target practice? On Kai!” If Kai’s the target, then why is Cole wearing the bowl on his head? ❌
- Wait is someone actually allowing Ultra Dragon to perch on their roof, or is Nya sitting him here without the building owner’s consent? ❌
- “Like a magic portal?” Was that another voice swap?!? Godd*mmit, I thought we left these in season 1! ❌
- “Keep up with him you slithering idiots!” They don’t slither - they have legs! ❌
- I know why Garmadon can’t hurt Ultra, but give me one reason as to why Ultra can’t just turn around and blow the ship up ❌
- “This crew sounds like they knew how to fly a ship!” They gave the wheel to the dude with no eyes ❌
- “Welcome to Grand Sensei Dareth’s Mojo Dojo.” No. ❌
- Look, Dareth gets better in later seasons. I enjoy him in Crystalized and Prime Empire and stuff, but early Dareth? I wanna snap his spine like a KitKat.
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- ^ How does Dareth untangled himself from those bead things that easily without them getting tangled into each other? Maybe Dareth is really the master of beads… or balls? ⬇️
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- ^ yeah, that adds up
- “How many trophies do you have?” 30 something-year old man makes fun of an 8 year old for literally no reason ❌
- “… Lord Garmadon destroyed the Devourer.” I’m only gonna mention this briefly since I’ll go into more detail during season 8 but Garmadon never would’ve been able to do sh*t against the Devourer had it not been for the ninja trapping it. ❌
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- ^ I’m living for the hand gestures Kai makes during this scene ✅
- “It only has the power to create!” Or it only works when you say “I wish.” You didn’t say that with Ultra, but you did say it with the pirates. Look, all I’m saying is Garmadon comes to this conclusion a bit too quickly ❌
- Taking a villain that’s bent on destruction and equipping him with a weapon that can’t destroy anything but can only create stuff is a genuinely interesting concept. Personally, I just wish it was done better than it was, because it had a lot of potential that I felt wasn’t really lived up to. ❌
- “But instead of 10 boards, how about 50?” End me now please ❌
- Also, Jeffy and Phil are literally just Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Usually, I’d win this like I do with most references but this is a sin because f*ck JK R*wling ❌
- “I don’t like the kid coming along.” The kid ✅
- “Please, please, please? I’ll be super good!” He’s just a little guy :( ✅
- The ninja think it’d be too dangerous to take Lloyd with them, so they decide to leave him alone on a public bus that could travel anywhere around the city? ❌
- “Pajama man!” PAJAMA MAN ✅
- “Dang it, Dareth!” A slightly more PG version of what I would say
- Did they actually have the money to pay for these costumes or did they legit steal them? ❌
- Jay literally looks Kai up and down and says “wow.” Bisexual Jay canon? ✅
- “We have to save him.” “We can’t get close enough without blowing our cover!” Kai thinks their cover is more important than Dareth. I mean, I agree, but still ❌
- “who here wants to see him go splat?” ME!
- “Who here wants to see him live!” *confused pirate noises* ✅
- Also, neither Jay nor Kai speak up when Jay says that. Again, I agree, but these guys are supposed to be the heroes! ❌
- Where are Zane and Cole throughout the entire plank scene? ❌
- “More pajama men?” “Where? I can’t see!” Are jokes about blind people forgetting they’re blind similar to when bilingual characters “forget to switch” which language they’re speaking in? ❌
- “Ninja vs pirates… who will win?” I still think that the fact that we didn’t get a definitive answer to this question is the soul reason for why Skybound was made. I’m gonna let you all decide if that’s a sin or win.
- Since when does Zane use smoke bombs? ❌
- Okay who put a gum ball machine on the Bounty and why???? ❌
- “Jay!” Okay, but I’m with Jay on this one. If y’all are gonna be dumb enough to actually fall a victim to this gum ball thing I think you deserve the face the consequences ❌
- Lloyd just completely took Zane out I’m- ✅
- Kai puts Lloyd upside down in a BARREL because surely that’s safe /s ❌
- “I just did Spinjitzu for the first time!” Why does this line delivery remind me of the dialogue from Dora the Explorer? ❌
- I know we established that Lloyd can harness all four elements of creation, but this energy ball/green power thing really did just come out of nowhere, didn’t it? ❌
- “Your powers are too uncontrollable!” Cole wants to warn Lloyd so bad that he astral projects his voice through Kai to do so ❌
- Annndddd Nya just tore the sail ❌
- “You’re getting stronger son, but you’ll never be strong enough to defeat me! Give up, before it’s too late!” Well this dynamic seems a little… different compared to the last time we saw it? ❌
- Also, shouldn’t Lloyd be getting punished for this? He was told not to come because it’s dangerous (and it is) and he ignored them and went anyway. He seriously could’ve gotten killed! I’m not saying he needs to be grounded for life or anything but the ninja should explain to him why he shouldn’t have come. ❌
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- I’m sorry I love the way they’re all staring affectionately at Lloyd. Like, he’s their little brother and they love him and ahhhh ✅
Sentence: Dareth
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Back To You - Chapter 6
Word Count : 835
Warnings : mentions of the breakup
Story Masterlist
Taglist : @yellowroseskolchek @whatudowhennooneseesyou @perfectlysane24 @rebelspy @missmustachejelly @baguette-atiny @almost--legal @nevieatiny @mxnxmistic @randomness7198 @eastleighsblog @rionah
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It felt like high school all over again, she thought to herself as she made her way to the ice cream place her and Hongjoong dubbed as theirs at the start of their relationship. Lilac was right, as much as Lily hated to admit it. It wouldn’t matter if things were official with Changbin, or if they were together for years, she would always love Hongjoong more.
            He stood outside the door, his smile widening when he saw her. “You came.” He spoke softly. He knows he saw her a few hours previous, but he had this need, this desire, to be with her all the time. It was the same feeling he had when they were dating before, the same feeling he ignored. The same feeling he refuses to ignore this time.
            “I said I would.” Her smile lit a fire in Hongjoong’s heart. He knows he made a lot of mistakes in the past, but it’s this moment, the way she smiles at him like he’s the only man in her world, that he promises to never make the same mistakes. She’s the kind of girl you love forever.
            “Long time no see, you two!” The owner greeted them as they walked inside, a wide smile on his face, just like back then. It was like everything and nothing changed all at the same time. “No ring yet? You better get on that, Hongjoong.” He joked, and neither of them had the heart to tell him that they were broken up. That she was seeing someone else, while Hongjoong held on to the hope that she’d choose him.
            “This place is so cute.” She beamed as Hongjoong came back to the table, handing her the ice cream he bought for her, and sliding into the booth across from her.
            “You think?” He asked, taking a look around the quaint shop, only one other customer inside. When his attention turned back to her, she was admiring the small shop, her eyes brighter than the stars in the sky. He studied her face, falling more in love as her smile widens while reading the posters posted around the shop. “Should we make this our place then?” Her attention was brought back to Hongjoong who stared at her like nothing else existed in this world.
            “Yes! Our ice cream place.” He reached across to grab her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles while slowly eating his ice cream.
            “I like the sounds of that.”
            “Just the usual then?” They both nodded, and Hongjoong handed the money over. All the memories came crashing over her as they sat in their usual booth, waiting for their ice cream. How they slowly got to know the owner as they came back over and over. She remembers him telling them about his wife, and how the two of them reminded him of how they used to be.
            It had given her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could make it. Yet here they sit in their usual booth at their ice cream place, trying to be friends. But it’s hard to be friends when the love they once shared is far from gone. They’re exes that are a little too in love with each other. Exes that wish they weren’t exes.
~
            The ex couple walked down the same path to the beach they used to. More memories played in her mind like a movie, her favourite movie. She remembers every detail of every date. All the words said. All the promises made.
            He starts talking about one of their many beach dates. How the wind blew her hat away so he bought her a new one, just for the wind to blow that one away too. She brings up the time his swim trunks got washed away in the ocean, and she had to buy him a new pair, watching as he struggled to put them on in the ocean.
            They go back and forth sharing some of their favourite memories as they watched the waves crash onto the shore. Sat side by side, their shoulders touching. And she realizes that she doesn’t care how difficult it is, she wants Hongjoong. She doesn’t want these memories to just be apart of her past. She wants to keep reliving these dates with Hongjoong, one day sharing their stories to their children. Telling them the story of how they fell in love.
            She rests her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her. “What a nice walk down memory lane.” She whispered. Hongjoong could feel his heart break, wondering if that’s really all she saw this as. Just a simple walk down memory lane, making fun of the way they were back then. He wonders if she truly just sees him as a friend now, nothing more, nothing less. Did he rejoin the race too late and Changbin was already at the finish line?            
“If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.”
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c-40 · 11 months
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A-T-3 125 Run DMC - Sucker MC's
Sucker Mc's is the b-side of Run DMC's debut single and a pivotal record in hip hop. The most common line is 'it ushered in a new era of hip hop,' 'pioneering the new-school' and kick starting 'the drum machine era' (1983-1986) with its stripped down sound. It's been said to have introduced 'real hip hop' to audiences, 'saving hip hop from going stale' or becoming a passing fad. Fresh is the word and Run DMC were the first hip hop group to go platinum in the US, so the group themselves are also a marker for hip hop's commercial success. Being held in such high regard Sucker MC's has had its story told many times, but the first telling of how Sucker MCs came about are in the lyrics themselves
“Took a test to become an MC" - Run had been DJ for Kurtis Blow who was managed by his brother Russell Simmonds
"and Orange Krush became amazed at me" - Orange Krush was Kurtis Blow's backing band which included Larry Smith, Trevor Gale and Davy DMX
"So, Larry put me inside his Cadillac, the chauffeur drove off, and we never came back" At this point in the lyrics it's just Run, Russell Simmonds originally wished for his brother Run The MC to be a solo artist. Larry its Larry Smith of Orange Krush who, as well as working with Kurtis Blow and Run DMC, worked with Jimmy Spicer, "Love Bug" Starski, Dr Jeckyll And Mr Hyde, Starchild in those early years, and Whodini from 1984 - there's not enough said about Larry Smith
"Dave cut the record down to the bone, and now they got me rocking on the microphone” In 1982 Orange Krush released a disco track called Action. The beats for Sucker MC's is Trevor Gale's drum pattern from Action replayed on a Oberheim DMX drum machine. In the lyric this is Dave (Davey DMX) that cuts the record down to the bone. It's literally (Orange) Krush's groove
Run DMC are Joseph Simmons (Run), Darryl McDaniels(DMC), and Jason Mizell (Jam Master Jay)
Sucker MC's is said to take hip hop (meaning rap) back to its origin of 'rapping over a beat.' like you hear on Spoonie Gee's seminal track Love Rap from 1980. "Run-D.M.C's debut marked the start of a new era that saw a return to hip hop's roots in breakbeats, sampling and drum machines." What we have to take into consideration here is drum machines are still new and very expensive, the Oberheim DMX drum machine was released in 1980 and would have cost over $10,000 in todays money. I maybe wrong but I'm guessing when talking about going back to it's roots of 'rapping to a beat' that was more often than not that was a loop of a recorded live drum rather than a drum machine. The Oberheim DMX was released shortly after the Linn LM-1 in 1980, but the more popular LinnDrum didn't come out until 1982. The Roland TR-808 also came out in 1980 and was replaced by the TR-909 in 1983
"The mainstream was not quite prepared for the concept of breakbeats." - I'm getting these quotes from this awful article. In 1982 Malcolm McLaren releases Buffalo Gals, in 1982 in peaked at number 9 on the UK singles charts, and sold well around the world. Of course it's a bit of a novelty record but it also features an Oberheim DMX with a pretty sparse arrangement and was very influential
Run DMC's set up of emcee and a dj would become the new template of a rap group, although the dj would often get pushed out of the limelight. I don't agree with this statement "no major record label was willing to bet on a DJ over a live band." I've mentioned Buffalo Galls, that is The World's Famous Supreme Team djs scratching over the DMX drum beat and Trevor Horn el embellishing with a few samples from their new Fairlight CMI (is it the first hip hop record you use actual samples?), Grandmaster Flash had released the breakthrough dj record The Adventures Of Grandmaster Flash On The Wheels Of Steel in 1981, Grandmaster D.St is releasing records in 1982 and introduces mainstream US audiences to scratching in 1983 when he plays on Herbie Hancock's Rockit (most notably when he steals the show at the 1984 Grammy's). Then there is Planet Rock, Afrika Bambaataa and Arthur Baker are both dj's and recording in the dj come producer/remixer tradition of the disco era
I've seen Sucker MC's drum beat described as a sample and held up as introducing sampling to hip hop, "sampling was more stigmatised at the time." First of all it's not a sample is it, only if you want to call the sounds of the DMX samples, which would be technically right, but it's not sampling like you hear on Buffalo Gals. The reason sampling wasn't common in hip hop at the time is because samplers were rare and ridiculously expensive
Run DMC - Sucker MC's so good
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The Beastie Boys performing Sucker MC's (5m18s) at the fist VH-1 Hip Hop Honours, which in my opinion was better than the Grammy's Hip Hop 50 celebration
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Your eyes couldn't hide anything
You were wrong when you said everything's gonna be alright
You were right when you said this is the end
You lie for a moment, you lie as a decoy
Sittin on the stand with no remorse
Be creepin wit mad demons
Blood rushin, concussions
Y’all can’t see this but this might be the night
Chloe don’t know better, Chloe’s just like me
Dreams like this must die
And everyone has a heart and it’s calling for something, and we’re all so sick and tired of seeing things as they are, and everyone is hidden and everyone is cruel, there’s no shortage of tyrants and no shortage of fools
And the little white shape dancing at the end of the hall is just a wish that time can’t dissolve at all:
“Well, there are some things too hard to explain but my baby’s coming home.”
And I realized
How many paths have crossed between us
This story is old, I know—but it goes on
Sounds like today’s a good day for a tape
It seems to make you laugh each time I cry
Annie
Well its been ten years or maybe more since I first laid eyes on you
Come and play the tunes of glory
Raise your voice in celebration
And learn the meaning of existence in fortnightly instalments
Come share this golden age with me in my single room apartment
Oh and I could be a genius if I just put my mind to it
Now they expected to control us (these aren’t the words but they’re what I thought the words were for 30 years )
“Oh, come on make it up yourself. And I promise I won't tell this to anybody else in the world but you.”
I ain’t had a job for a year or more, I don’t own a thing
Holy law and money, their intentions are tall
We smoke and talk in my room
Maybe I'm crazy
Or maybe you know
But I've got this feeling it’s all about to blow
So we go from year to year with secrets we’ve been keeping
“Yes, Jackie.” (there’s actually a French man named jacky on the wall who died last year)
Cameras on the microphone
I knew you was conflicted
Light my fire
Holy junkie
Funky monkey
He don't want to play that game
He gotta play that game
What will you ever do when you blow a fuse?
Sooner or later you’ve gotta get down and sing
I’m the siren that you hear
I’m churnin out novels like beat poetry on amphetamines
I’ve got feathers in my hair
They judge me
Brooklyn Babies
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me into something I am not recognizing
“See the cage.”
I will not open myself this way again.
All all you folks, you come to see; you just stand there looking at me…and I could kill you.
“I know there’s a way that we can make ‘em pay.”
“We never lost control.”(this stuck out like a sore thumb today)
When I’m in trouble I know she’ll go with me until the end; everybody asks me how I know I smile at them and say “she told me so.”
Don’t get high on what you create, oh it just might steal ya
Cocaine cocaine cocaine ALL DAY, Jesus, ok quick lecture: we’ve Got an overdose coming, so you better pull your shit together and now the lyrics: buzzing all the time, just one hit and I feel great….we promise we won’t tell.
Music is your only friend; until the end.
We can’t stop is the song that was playing Dec 30 2017 when fake katie told me I needed to “party” even tho I’d been sober a year, and when I asked with what, she responded “coke and ecstasy”. That was the longest & most severe drug addiction I ever had and I hope I never see it again, and sometime in 2018 while high out of my Mind after realizing I’d been duped, wrote, “blond got me hooked on cocaine” on my wall next to an exchange between me and my ex-therapist that said “I’m in a boat with drugs and ritual and voices”, and her response “do something with it or get a new boat”…so I did. It just took awhile. In the words of our friend the pot dealer “smoke weed, dude.”
Also don’t trick people into cocaine addictions by pretending to be their dead niece, maybe? 🤷🏻‍♀️
Don’t bother saying you’re sorry(though you having your henchmen leave wrapped drinking straws everywhere so I’d be reminded of my addiction was super shitty IMHO)
You are the habit I can’t seem to kick
And like a car crash I can see but I just can’t avoid
Like a plane I’ve been told I never should board (Steel, RIP)
Oh right that song about a girl you’re obsessed with that you never talk to, twice in one day
“When you hit the ground, it’s an awful sound.” Speak to us of this expertise. After all it’s played three times in 24 hours. On three different playlists.
A yo there’s poison in that gumbo
I know your secrets, bitches
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6ad6ro · 3 years
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tommyspeakycap · 3 years
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Would you write for John McGinn? anything at all for him haha
you got me
a nasty breakup brings you to the door of the aston villa player, ready to welcome you once again with open arms full of love.
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Whistling to himself as he walks from his bathroom to the kitchen of his home, John towel dries off his hair when his doorbell sounds through the house. His immediate reaction is one of question. He tilts his head, furrows his brows and wracks his brain for a memory of potentially making plans that he had then completely forgotten about. Instead, he begins to wonder if there was a chance he had leaked his address and would be met with paparazzi or fans standing on his doorstep. The villa player draws blank on both of those thought processes, and is snapped from them when the a harsh knocking accompanies the sound of said doorbell.
His feet hurry him towards the door, taking the opportunity to look at the doorbell footage he could access from the little alarm box on the wall just next to it. His eyes are met with you standing on his porch dripping from the rain, shivering in soaked clothes and very possibly crying.
He reaches for the door immediately, tugging the heavy thing open with eyes wide, "Bloody hell, you have a key!" He exclaims, ushering you in as he removed his hair towel from around his neck to drape over your shoulders while you close the door behind you. Your lips are a little blue from the winter chill that had blown the cold rain through your clothes. "Forgot it." You chitter, entire body shivering with the painful force to try and conserve some form of heat.
John grabs a bigger towel, one that's much softer and warmer. "Strip off," he orders hurriedly, turning his back to go back into the kitchen and see if he left any clothes in his dryer from the load he put in earlier. "Sh-shouldn't you take me t-t-to dinner first?"
Your half hearted, shivering attempt at a joke doesn't make him laugh like it usually would. He turns around to shoot you a disapproving scowl. "I'll get you some warm clothes, get dried."
You do as told, or attempt to. It's hard when you can't feel your fingers to get a grip on anything more than the zipper of the zip up hoodie you'd had on. You try to shake the material from your shoulders, but your whole body is stiff with the tight muscles that the freezing temperatures had inflicted upon you.
"You'll end up with hypothermia," John rushes, dropping the warm clothes down on the cabinet by the door where you still stand, surrounded by a puddle of rainwater. He works quickly, but carefully to shed you of the zipper, then looks to you for permission to lift your t-shirt over your head. He hands you the warm, dry towel to cover yourself with so he can unclip your soaked bra. Shoes off next, he discards them off behind him as water literally pools from them. You keep that towel around you, patting at your skin as he tries to get your leggings off as painlessly as possible, but every touch still hurts. Your pants, you insist on doing by yourself even if it is a struggle while John holds up the towel.
He didn't bother to even make an attempt at pulling the hair bobble out of your hair, John just snaps the thin black band wordlessly, easily between his fingers before he orders you to flip your hair so he can tied it in another warm towel.
"Why were you out in that?" He asks as he sits you down in his cosy living room with a new, drier towel. You're still chittering, which is worrying but John had learned a lot from coaches behaviours towards the teams when they come off after games played on nights like these. "It's negative 6 degrees."
Warming up was the most important thing, just not too quickly.
You avert your eyes from his, chewing slightly on your lip. "(y/n)," John presses, moving to occupy the space on the couch next to you. You sit forward on the couch so you both sit shoulder to shoulder, his head turns to you while yours faces the floor. "David kicked me out, I didn't have my keys and my phone wasn't charged so I couldn't call you. Busses were off for the weather and the snow covered the train lines yesterday, plus I don't have any money with me so I was scuppered there too. I did some grovelling at the door then I walked here when he wouldn't let me back it."
John's jaw all but hits the floor as anger infiltrates the worry coursing through his veins.
"Don't..." you sigh, trailing off as you stand up with a loose shake of your head. "Don't look at me like that John. I'm gonna go get changed."
The sound of your bare feet padding off through his house holding the warmed pile of his clothes he gave to you was one that he would certainly like to get used to, but you had both done this dance so many times he knew it wasn't something he could count on. Usually you'll call him though, or he'll go and pick you up after a mutual breakup. You've never come on no notice and it's never been because of something like this. John hadn't heard from you in a few weeks either, you had his mind reeling.
Even more so when you reappeared, dry hair tied back out of your face with his grey joggers and black t-shirt drowning you in its size. They were him homebody comfy clothes, so they were bought to be even a little big on him. He had to admit they looked a lot better on you, though.
In the time you were gone, John had made hot chocolate and brought through his biscuit tin to sit on the couch between you both. Words weren't deemed necessary to find a movie he knew you would like. That and he knew you didn't want to talk, so even if he tried it would have been like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall.
He keeps looking over at you, trying to do so discreetly by flicking his eyes over in your direction. Those little giggles at Hugh Grants exasperated facial expressions while James Can disposes of a body in a trunk in the 1999 rom com you loved so much. The movie is good, but your reactions to every time you watch it just like each time is the first time. John can't understand why a man would ever do anything that would wipe that little grin off your perfect lips. How anyone could ever put anyone out on their doorstep in a  storm like that, but least of all someone who was supposed to love you. If it were up to John, you would have been wrapped in a blanket the second the rain pour started, curled in his arms falling asleep to the sound of the thunder rumble and the rain pattering against the street. That was his dream, the one he couldn't keep a girlfriend because of. All he wanted was you and nobody else ever lived up to that.
He wishes he could scream at you, tell you that those very sorry excuses for men that you end up with and what you have with them isn't love. Or maybe you do love them, but they do not love you. They like the idea of you, someone free spirited and always ready to fall in love.
It truly seemed as though you could fall in love with anyone but the one man who wanted you the most.
Watching you fall asleep on his couch, head resting on the high armrest with knees curled up and his blanket still tucked around you with a tiny little bit of chocolate on the corner of your lip sends his heart racing a mile a minute. It feels so right to have you there. He feels guilty for enjoying it. Your heart was broken even if you wouldn't say a word about it and here he was enjoying it.
He uses his foot to push open the spare bedroom door just along the hall from his room. John lays you down carefully on top of the duvet, letting your head nuzzle into his plush pillows as your eyes remain shut in soft sleep. He grabs another blanket for you and makes sure the heating is right up in the room before he leaves you there with an ache in his chest.
He goes to check on you in the middle of the night, finding you not in the room but instead standing in his kitchen still shrouded in blankets with crazy sleep hair and tired eyes.
“Can’t sleep?” He asks, startling you ever so slightly. You shrug, moving to take a seat at his kitchen island. “Woke up and got all messed up thinking about how i have literally nothing.” You mumble in response, your voice thick with the desire to burst into tears. It breaks his heart to see you so defeated, your eyes never meeting his as they stare pointedly down at the marble surface. “I’m sorry.” John says, “Really. He’s an arsehole. I can go round and grab some stuff for you tomorrow if you want.” He offers, his apology as sincere as they come. But you shake your head with only a quick glance up at him. John isn’t hot tempered at all. He’s mellow, easygoing and funny. Never quick to anger and never the type to get into a fight but by god is he protective of you. You worry about the kind of blow that would come to his career if he gets an assault charge against your ex when he inevitably doesn’t let John into the house to get any of your stuff while probably barraging you with insults.
“It’s not worth it.” You admit. “It’s less physical. Just leaves me empty, i guess. ‘Cause i gave everything to that relationship and how i have nothing left to give.” The heartbreak and the weight of your words will weigh on John’s mind probably for years to come. How someone could do that to you he will never understand. There’s nothing he wants more in this world than for you to be his to love. He wants to shower you with praise, make you realise how strong you are and remind you every single day that he loves you. That’s what you deserve. You deserve kindness and encouragement and support. He wishes more than anything to be the guy who could give that to you instead of watching you enter into relationships with the worst men he’s ever known only to see you torn down at the other side of it.
“You’ve got me.” He offers. He knows that’s probably not what you want to hear and it might not give you the kind of relief he wishes he could give. But you smile softly and stand up, shuffling over to him under blankets and his warm clothes until you reach him. You don’t really hug him, just lean against him with your cheek on his chest. John wraps his arms around you tightly and feels you sigh contently. He’s your John. The burly Scottish lad who makes you laugh when you feel like crying, who looks after you and keeps you pushing forward when life feels like it’s stacked against you. “Yeah. I love you, John.” You hum softy. John can feel the small smile on your lips against the thin material of the shirt he wore to sleep in because his house was like a sauna with the heating to keep your warm. He can tell you’re about to fall asleep there because he supports most of your weight. He holds you to him, rubbing your back soothingly as you nod ever so slightly against him.
“Even when i’ve got nothing, i’ve got you.”
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mycomfortblanket · 2 years
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Why Are You So Scared?
Chapter 2
Th commotion of their engagement is almost instantaneous and Toph feels a little overwhelmed by it all. She is having to go to several fittings, tea parties, and meetings. The whole week, she has seen Zuko- her now betrothed- maybe twice, and both were fleeting moments.
Invitations had been sent out before Toph or Zuko could decide on a date. Eventually, it all becomes too much and Toph puts up a wall between herself and two of the seamstresses and stomps out of the room.
She walks along the corridors for what seems like hours until she finally comes across the garden that her and Zuko had that heart to heart in. Taking a deep breath, she walks through until she comes to the little pond and plops down on the grass. She can feel the breeze blow through the garden and ruffle her hair slightly. The past week, the seamstress and beauty people have insisted that she keep her hair down and had styled it every which way. Wanting to get them off her back about the whole affair, Toph's left her hair down rather than braiding it or putting it up in its bun.
She almost doesn't sense it, but Zuko has made his way into the garden as well. It feels as if he is sneaking, but not trying to sneak up on her. More like he is sneaking away from something.
"What are you doing?" Toph whisper-yells when he is close enough.
"Fuck! Toph, I didn't see you there," he starts, giving a slight jump. "I'm trying to get away from some of these people. I didn't even have these many people flocking me during the coronation. This shit is ridiculous," he comes and sits down next to her, his legs splayed out in front of him. Toph feels him take a strand of her hair and run it through his fingers.
"Yeah, I had to bend my way out of a dress fitting; I just couldn't take it anymore." Zuko makes a sound of acknowledgement and together, they sit in silence. A question that has been bothering Toph for a while now finally bubbles up in her throat, "Are you regretting asking me to marry you?"
She feels him go rigid as a board, dropping the strand of hair he was playing with and hardly dares to breathe. He doesn't answer for a moment, and after a while, she starts to think he isn't going to. Slowly, he lets the tension out of his shoulders and starts to breathe again.
A few more moments go by and Toph's already moved on to another subject in her mind when he speaks, "I don't know. I would rather marry you than some random woman who is just after wealth and status. But, at the same time- now don't take this the wrong way..." he hesitates.
"-You wish it was Katara that would be standing on the other side of the alter with you," she finishes for him. She knows what he means because she feels the same way. Marrying Zuko isn't the worst possible thing. She's marrying one of her best friends, someone she knows isn't after her family's money, going to push her into something she doesn't want to do, or break her spirit. But, at the same time... she wishes it was someone else.
He sighs again, "Yeah, I do." They both hang their heads in shame of the admission and in disappointment of what they have lost.
"I heard invitations were sent out. I didn't even know a date had been picked," she says after what feels like forever.
"Oh, yeah. It's the third day of Spring. I think Uncle picked the date and is making all the arrangements."
"Does he know," she hesitates, "About us?"
Zuko looks down at the grass in front of him, "I haven't told him, but I think he knows." He feels guilty about not talking to Uncle about it, he just can't bring himself to admit how badly he's fucked up. Asking his best friend to become Fire Lady? Someone as rebellious and free as Toph? And then there is the who heir situation, there's no way around that after they marry. The Advisors will be pushing for that a few months after the wedding. "Do you think we should do this?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
This time, it's Toph who takes too long to answer. By her silence, he knows what she's thinking. They've fucked up. An impulse decision made on a whim because Zuko was being selfish and avoiding responsibility.
"What else is there for us to do?" She says finally. "I would have to marry the highest bidder and you would have to marry a stranger. This is the best option for the both of us. And who knows, maybe we can grow to love each other..." her voice trails off. She doesn't sound optimistic at all and the thought of all of this is breaking her heart.
Zuko takes a deep breath and nudges her shoulder, "Hey. I'd rather be in this mess with you than anyone else. We'll figure it out as it goes along." He smiles at her and he can just barely see the start of a smile at the corner of her lips.
"Yeah, you're right. You're the best person to fuck up with. We'll figure it out together."
--------------------
The letter arrives at the Air Temple a few days after it had been sent out. Petting the hawk that made the long journey, Aang opens the letter. He has to read it four or five times to make sure he isn't missing something.
Zuko and Toph???
Toph and Zuko???
An uneasy feeling sets in his stomach at the thought. Two of his best friends are getting married and he didn't even know they were dating. Aang thinks back and tries to find a moment when the two of them showed and interest in each other like that. He can see a few instances when something one of them had said or how one of them touched the other could be seen as romantic, but other than that, he can't think of anything.
Slowly, he walks back to the house in a daze. Katara is in the kitchen cutting vegetables for the dinner they will have later in the day. When she seems him come into the house, she puts the knife down and moves over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Whatcha got there?" she asks, plucking the envelope out of his hand.
"Zuko and Toph are getting married," he says, but phrases it like a question.
"Ha ha. Really, what is it-" she cuts herself off as her eyes fly over the page, rereading the invitation several times before looking up at Aang. Her eyebrows are scrunched together and a question plays on her lips. There is a light of excitement in her eyes but it is the complete opposite of how he feels. He feels like something is wrong but he can't exactly put a finger on what it is.
--------------------
Toph's mom calls on the phone a few days after receiving the invitations. The invention of the phone is still relatively new to Toph so she has trouble with it for a moment. Finally, after several attempts and a bit of cursing on her part, she is able to talk to her mom with the help of two assistants.
"Tophie, we didn't even know that you were dating! How could you not tell us this? We had been attempting to set you up wiht so many men. Your father was beginning to wonder if we should have set you up with women..." Poppy continues to drone on and Toph drops her head into her hands. This is one coversation she was dreading, how her mother could take something so small and make it massive. Well... not that getting married is small.
Poppy continues to talk, hardly letting Toph get a word in. She thinks that if she sets down the receiver and walk away for a few hours, her mother would never know.
"So, are you happy?" her mother asks and completely catches her off guard. Her head snaps up and her cheeks flood with embarrassment.
"Mom- I uh- what?" she stammers out.
"Well, I know that the arranged marriage wasn't something you were wanting, I didn't ever think you would marry of your own free will. So he must make you very happy!"
Her mom sounds so hopeful that Toph actually feels bad for lying, "Yeah. Yeah, mom, he makes me really happy."
"Oh, that's just wonderful news, Tophie! I'm so happy for you. I doubt your father and I could have picked someone better for you. I want to come up there soon, before the wedding, so that we can catch up and you can introduce me to your future husband!" Toph grans at how excited her mother is and at the prospect of her coming to meet Zuko. That's going to be a whole week of lying and she isn't sure she is up for it.
Her mother continues to prattle on about wedding arrangements and requirements that have to be in order. She also mentions the dowry that her father has put together and will give on their wedding day. Toph doesn't even attempt to say that Zuko won't accept it, that whatever amount of money her parents give will be like a drop in the ocean compared to all the money he has. He runs a fucking country for Spirit's sake.
Her mother also mentions her maidenhood and to make sure she bleeds on the sheets and to not clean it up so the maids can check. Toph's cheeks go red in embarrassment and guilt. She remembers how Zuko said that they could just cut her leg to show the blood.
After probably an hour of listening to her mother talk, Toph is finally able to escape the phone call and wander the halls. She's hardly paying attention to where she's going but she starts to pick up on the footprints of Zuko and his Uncle. As she gets closer, she can hear their hushed whispers and her name being mentioned. She slows her walking and strains her ears to listen to what is being said.
"Nephew, you have to think this through. You would be sentencing yourself and Master Toph to this marriage for the rest of your lives; there are no divorces in the Fire Nation."
"I know, Uncle. But, I don't have any better options. Katara- she-" he chokes. "I can't bring myself to marry someone I don't know, to be in a loveless relationship with a woman who only wants me for the status and money..." he trails off again. "Toph, she... she's a good friend and I can trust her. She can help me lead this country."
"What about producing an heir, Fire Lord Zuko?" Iroh says carefully.
Toph hears a deep sign from Zuko, "I don't know. Toph doesn't want kids and I can't force her to do something she doesn't want to do," he sounds tired, like this is a fight he has had with himself several times before. There's a rustling of fabric and Toph assumes that Iroh is embracing him.
--------------------
It's one of the rare nights where Toph and Zuko are able to have dinner together without any interruptions or maids bustling in and out of the dining room. There's an air of awkward silence and sadness and honestly, it's pissing Toph off.
"This is ridiculous. Why are we so upset about this? Nothing is going to change besides my title. World's Greatest Earthbender and Firelady Toph Beifong. It's a mouthful, but I could get used to it," she smiles slightly and looks over towards Zuko. She can feel the flit of his heartbeat and knows that a smile is playing on his lips as well. "We're going to be okay, okay?"
"Yeah. We're going to be fine, Toph. We'll get through it, we always do." The tension finally seems to lift from the air and they go back to talking and laughing, almost back to the way they were before.
Maybe this will be easy. Maybe she can do this, can actually grow to love and give him what he needs to be a successful leader.
Later that night, while she's laying in her bed, Toph thinks about the future- something she doesn't normally do. She tends to stay in the moment, taking on everything as it comes. But, thinking about her future with Zuko, of possibly having his child, of helping him rule his country, making him laugh and see the bright side of everything, she thinks she can do this. Actually, she knows she can.
Read the full story on Archiveofourown.com
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phati-sari · 3 years
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Hi PS, welcome back! We missed you, hope you feel better :) Just saw your answer to why Buaji never considered Shyam for Payal and it just made me sad. Between Buaji and Mamiji, I don't know who I found the most annoying. I know they added flavour to the show, and we discover their softer sides which endears us to them, but sometimes I just got so angry at them for their behaviour and sh*t stirring and interference. Might just be me though!
Hiyya!
Ngaw, thank you, this is super sweet!
I see what you're saying, but aunt characters are typically terrible in tellywood. They exist specifically to shit-stir and to interfere. And while I dislike saying that we should be grateful for what we got because it could've been much worse, I feel compelled out point out that both Madhumati and Manorama had strong character arcs.
Mami's character in particular just blows me away:
She never differentiates between Arnav and Aakash. Do you know how easy it would've been to show her trying to take Arnav down in favour of Aakash? To show a conniving aunt who was jealous of Arnav's success, who wanted her son to be the shining star of the household? After all, Aakash is the heir of the household, not Arnav, who is technically a Malik. And yet, Manorama -- for all her babbling about her one and only bitwa -- treats them the same. She never even brings up that she (a girl from a poor house!) sold her jewellery and broke her FD to give Arnav the seed money for his company -- it's Arnav who tells us.
She didn't want her daughter-in-law to go through what she did. I think it's easy to hate Manorama because she's so mean to Payal and so violently against Aakash's marriage. But she clearly states in the serial that if Aakash doesn't marry a Society Girl, her bahu will be bullied because of her background. Nani is still taunting and bullying Manorama after 25+ years of marriage. This is not something she wanted Aakash's wife to go through.
She was always defending against what she saw as trickery. Manorama genuinely believed that Arnav had been duped into marrying Khushi. She believed he was a victim of the Gupta’s money-grabbing scheme, continued to see him as a victim until he stood up for Khushi in front of Dadi. That’s when it clicked to Manorama that Arnav isn’t a victim. That’s why she was so comfortable insulting Arnav’s wife in front of him - she thought she was helping. That’s why it was so easy for her to blame Khushi after Shyam’s first reveal - because she viewed the situation as Shyam, Anjali, and Arnav becoming victims of Khushi yet again.
Despite that, she worked with Khushi to find Arnav when he was kidnapped. Manorama didn’t let her dislike of Khushi get in the way of rescuing Arnav. She can be petty and childish and downright weird, but she was reliable and resilient and trustworthy when it counted.
And we should give credit where it’s due for Bua-ji as well:
She learned to appreciate Khushi for who she was. She was terrible in the beginning, putting too much stock in blood and not enough in the bonds of the heart. She didn’t see Khushi as family and expected her to be forever grateful about her adoption. But that’s also how some people are about adopted children, I’ve seen so many ignorant and down-right cruel things said about Aarav by the very same folks who hate Bua-ji for how she treated Khushi. But Bua-ji changed as the serial went on and she came to see Khushi as her own person, to the extent where she supported Khushi in remarrying Arnav despite all the drama around their elopement.
She developed a genuine liking for Khushi’s choice in husband. No matter how it happened, Madhumati came to respect and love Arnav, even comparing him to her own husband at one point. She didn’t try to get between them or break them up, and didn’t even bad-mouth Khushi in front of (or to) Arnav. She respected Arnav’s atheism even though she didn’t understand it, she didn’t mind he snuck into her house at midnight, and encouraged the way Khushi stood up for her husband.
Like, I get it, these aren’t exactly warm and cuddly individuals who were always in Khushi’s corner. They were headstrong, confident women who were at times selfish, and often wrong. But here’s the thing. The traits that make these women ~unlikeable~ are exactly the traits people wish Payal and Khushi exhibited more. Anjali in particular is called all sorts of names for not doing what Madhumati and Manorama do: fight against injustice and protect herself and her own.
Just because that fight, the protection, wasn’t extended to Khushi in the beginning doesn’t make them bad characters. Bad people maybe, but not bad characters.
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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years
Text
Saturday 15 March 1840
7 55/..
12 40/..
breakfast at 9 25/.. to 10 ¼ and had Gross during breakfast – he came to explain the pistol-affair – he really did not strike the man with his pistol – nor draw his pistol out of his pocket at all – heard what he had to say, and said I would speak to him again after breakfast and gave George in – at 10 ¼ called the courier and had him in our landlords’ room, and the landlord himself questioned and interpreted – 3 reasons against going with us – his passport being only made out to Astracan [Astrakhan], leaving his wife for so long, and losing a certain revenue at Moscow (the vice governor had told me that he had a certain profit on delivering letters in Moscow but thought that 2/. per day would certainly cover this) – the 1st I said was no difficulty at all – the 2 others he knew at Moscow as well as now and was well satisfied then and why be dissatisfied now – at last he owned that the difficulty was about money and told the landlord that he did not know I had promised him 2/. a day! I begged the landlord to say that he knew very well that I had promised him 2/. a day that I had already paid him a few but that as such was the case, I could do without him – I should think Mr. Boulgakoff and say I was well satisfied with the courier up to this time and that he left me because he found 2/. a day not enough – then George came – he did not know what agreement had been made or what had passed with Mrs. Howard but remembered that I had given him 2/. a day for nourriture – I said I had given him 2/. a day one for the nourriture and one over –
SH:7/ML/E/24/00047
Astracan. [Astrakhan] I told George this was not right – if people made agreements and then did in this way, there would be no knowing what to do – I said George might do very well – and I would let the courier George said  - he (the courier) asked if I would promise him anything more at the end – no! said I, I will promise nothing – let him leave me – I am indifferent about Je suis blessée by this sort of thing – I will promise nothing and care not whether he stays or goes – then sent him off, and had Gross and George – It seems that the pulling out the pistol by accident when he got bit of bread out of his pocket was sometime before he gave the driver the push – he gave a push – the driver returned a blow and Gross another blow......... however as I told him, all this would be got over – he needed not be afraid of going to Siberia – he needed not as he had said at breakfast leave us for anything of this kind – then sent George away, and had the landlord in and spoke to Gross before him – the poor man had cried to him (the landlord) this morning and said he could not stay – the farther he went, the worse he shall be – I told him I thought he had better consider about it – he was doing a foolish thing – the journey would be at all his own expense – I had nothing to do with it if he left me in this way – no! he knew all that – he had no fault to find with me or Miss Walker – but there were 3 against one, and he would rather return to Moscow – he should have more protection there – I said it was at that moment quite uncertain whether the courier went forwards or not – but all this made no difference – he talked of his gesundtheit (hearth) to the landlord – and I said I had said all I could say with propriety – and that I did not wish to keep him against his inclination – he might go when he thought proper – then had the chef de police – very civil – undertook to arrange the matter of putting our kibitka sur roues en tarendass, and getting a proper vehicle (nous verrons ce que c’est) for the servants and baggage – he went away and by and by returned bringing the man with him – and all was arranged – our kibitka to be put on wheels as a karendass (pronounced Tarendasse) and a new vehicle to be furnished for the servants with leather top the whole for 280/. – towards which paid down 80/. (three twenty-five and one five rouble notes) – very much obliged – had made good use (as at Ataman advised) of the name of Madame Temirazoff – our Wortley policĕ (pronounced policy) master had really done very well for us, and I expressed my thanks as well as I could – then still loitered our garrulous little landlord till now 1 20/.. – then put on silk stockings (expecting the Atamans’ carriage at 1 ½ to go to and then with Madame Rebender to see the Institution (school) for young ladies and then to dine chez elle at 2 – the Ataman and his wife (her 1st visit) came at 1 ½ or very soon after and sat with me 2 10/.. – very civil and agreeable – at 2 20/.. came the sister in the carriage to take us to dinner – all to go at 6 p.m. to the chapel of the Hindoos – off immediately to chez Madame Rebender (wife of the general commandant)2nd in rank after the general gouverneur, the Ataman 3rd baron Taube chef de Douane, 4th Admiral Lazaroff 5th and then I suppose [?] the vice governor Mr.
Astracan. [Astrakhan] a moment chez Madame de R- and she went with us to the Institution – 40 girls – one David-off pretty and played well on the piano – aet. 15 or 16 – a nice girl – the mistress of the Institution only lately come – seems a nice sort of person – it was after 3 when we had the petit dejeune that always in these northern countries immediately precedes dinner – excellent fresh caviar, as at the Brügens, etc. – then dinner – the Ataman and the sister and the Sweed (Haeffler) of our party – 2 soups – French and Tchee (Russian soup with cabbage) for me – and dinner much as yesterday – some slight variation – a bottle of white rather uppish, or merely brisk Donskoi – music after dinner – the Sweed alone and then he and Mademoiselle Ataman, and the Sweed and Mademoiselle Rebender so that it was 4 55/.. before we came away and the Ataman and his sister set us down at home for an hour – I lay down for a few minutes – oppressed with cold (enrhumée) and dinner and more or less fever and bowels obdurate for a week past – then had our never-ending landlord till 5 50/.. – Gross bilious and ill – about 5 ½ had sent George with our cards to Madame la baronne Taubé whom we met last night at the Brügens’ – many mulberry trees here and silk worms – pay well – government wishes to encourage the Tartars in this culture – the silk sells at 500/. per pood – bought by the Persians – no peas grown here – all come from Moscow 2/. per lb.  no choux fleurs here – but haricots, potatoes and Swedish turnips – nothing – not a tree here without [?] – we saw models of the wind water pumping mills yesterday at the library – Madame and Mademoiselle Ataman came for us and at the Hindoo temple at 6 ½ p.m. for ½ hour – in a smallish room the about ½ used as a temple raised by 2 steps of about 1ft. each above the other – a sick Indian in bed in a room on the left who partook of their sacrament sprinkling with a holy water and eating a morsel of something? there were only 2 Indians a Brahmin the priest and a merchant the latter from the Punjab knowing well the Elephanta near Bombay and having relations at Moultan or else it was the Brahmin who had relations there – he a plain unIndian like man – the merchant a véritable type, and very handsome, of his nation – there are but 5 or 6 Hindoos left the rest dead off or gone – one died here lately and the body was burnt according to the Hindoo custom – the little idols wore all arranged in a little squarry box or temple not unlike the box for Punch and his wife chez mons – 7 (I think) little idols chiefly brass stood in a row against the back – and the rest on head and at the sides to the no. of about 21 all clothed but one or 2 or more – the merchant saying that the gods were clothed – those that were not were not e.g. Anubis was not clothed – We were allowed to examine as nearly as we chose but not to touch the idols – all very decent – there were some sacred stones that reminded me of the sacred beams of Pythagoras – and a large black stone from the gauges looking like a great head of bear or what? this was in front of the little shrine or what? containing what? the merchant shewed us too little ivory things resembling the trunk of an elephant with arms on the sides or what? but there was a a marigold flower (or sunflower?) distinct – some of the idols had several arms, and resembled the idols at Tumen and those in .........’s Indian Pantheon – but traces of the particular worship were so
nothing without [?] a lady here who from her garden has sold 40 poods of rose per day at 2/. to 12/. but 5/. per pood medium and average price
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disguised that they escaped as at Tumen even my searching eye – but I think I saw a little sort of truncated [?] in the back on each side the little altar and one or little curves etc. on some of the things that brought to mind some reminiscences of my readings – the words of the prayers were of course quite unintelligible to us all – the holy water was poured on to a silver plate, and slapped about with a little silver flat sort of teaspoon – put with the finger upon the forehand, and a little was drunk – our merchant had 2 dotted lines in red longitudinally down the middle of his forehead – I asked several questions which seemed rather to please than annoy him – I understood the water to be that of the Ganges but when they have not that they take from the Volga – I asked which of the elements they considered as first and most important – answer fire water air and earth all alike – they worship fire and when the fire (gaz) 1st came up at the Artesian well here, the Indians went and worshipped it – but their religion bears perpetual reference to water – the lotus flower its pistil, ovarium, petals etc. etc. of constant recurrence as fleurs de lis etc. etc. the marigold or sunflower and the white lily common – the [?], too, or a flower of 5 petals like a forget me not – after the service they gave us fine apples and beautifully white sugar candy – then to Madame Rebenders’ – tea – agreeable evening – her daughter came who married the apothecary here (when R- had not his present rank and had a narrow income – the apothecary well-off and good) and lastly the Swede who played some difficult running up and down music – simple airs at a [discount] – the Ataman and sister played a pretty waltz with variations and at the last and at my entreaty good Madame R- who said she had no voice sand some Russian national airs – the favourite song of Madame Temirazoff etc. etc. – these songs very interesting – home in the Atamans’ carriage (a 6-place good coach from St. P- or Moscow) at 10 40/.. the Brügens asked us to dinner tomorrow but I said I should be obliged to lie-by a little and to take something for my cold which was really very bad – my throat, too, very uncomfortable and I had a good deal of fever, and we declined dinner but would go in the evening – the good people sent me immediately a bottle of their red wine of this country say it would produce transpiration and do me good – fine day
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rosy-wooyoung · 3 years
Text
It’s gonna be okay | p. sh
Pairing - boyfriend! Seonghwa x fem! reader Genre - mostly angst with a dash of fluff at the end, comforting Word count - 1.7k Warnings - stress, anxiety, [quite] dark thoughts, Seonghwa comforting the reader Songs I listened to while writing - worldstar money - joji / pluto projector - rex orange county / numb - xxxtentacion / slow dancing in the dark - joji
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Leaning your forearms against the railing of your balcony, you watch the sunset as the wind softly blows your baby hairs away from your face. You deeply sigh, now feeling numb as you’ve cried for the past hours or so, you lost any notion of time. You were under a lot of stress and managing it wasn’t your strongest point. Heavy thoughts travelled in your brain, preventing you from relaxing and breathing properly. You pass your hands on your face, stopping in your hair as you contemplate your life choices and events. You shake your head in despair as your mind only brings up the negative points, tears welling in your eyes for the nth time tonight, almost surprising you that you still managed to cry with the number of tears that you’ve already shed since you came home. Closing your eyes, you breathe out and clench your jaw, trying to keep the tears in your eyes.
Nothing feels right. You are trying your best, yet you’re doing your worst job possible. You wish there were instructions on how to succeed in life and be happy, but it wouldn’t be so fun if everything were ruled and guided. You see your friends, relatives, siblings succeeding at life and you’re just here, stuck with your anxiety, struggles and worries. Everyone keeps telling you that everything will get better, but you’re starting to slowly lose hope. It feels like you’ve tried enough, you’ve given everything you had, yet nothing goes your way. And it’s still going now. Your mother keeps telling you over the phone that it’s faith, that you need to get through this to get stronger, and that everything will be okay, but you’ve stopped believing her a few months ago. 
You don’t even bother wiping the tears off your cheeks, letting the wind dry them. You are too tired to even do the simplest action ever; raising your hand and drag it on your face to wipe the salty water off your cold skin. You sigh another time, deeper and opened your eyes again, the sleepiness in your body making you slightly dizzy. You observe a black car driving in the underground garage of your building,  sirens resonated against the city’s buildings as you started to pick at your skin around your nails. This was a habit of yours when you were stressed and anxious, and, let’s be honest, your fingers have never been so damaged. Nails ruined, uneven, bloody skin surrounding them, small chunks of healing skin will be gone in a few seconds since another wave of stress was about to crash onto you.
Bringing a finger to your mouth to bite on the skin, a hand delicately wraps itself around your wrist, stopping you from doing any movement. The other arm rested on your waist, wrapping itself around it.
“Darling,” the low voice of your boyfriend resonates in your left ear. Turning around, you are met with concerned hazel eyes. Seonghwa drags the hoodie off your head, hair twirling around as he sets it free. His eyes landed into yours, as if they were trying to take the worries off your shoulders. You feel tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him, finding a bit of solace and comfort in his presence.
He knows all about your stress. He tries his hardest to make you feel better, but even at times, his love and support aren’t powerful enough to help you think about something else. He doesn’t beat himself up because of it, he rather learns from it. He gives you space, welcomes you with open arms when you’re violently crying. He’s just here, being a rock for you when you need it. He has felt defeated a lot of times, but he remained strong for you. He knew that he is your anchor, you must not give up, and your boyfriend doesn’t want to let you down.
It’s something that never crossed his mind, not even once. Seonghwa wants to help you becoming happy again, he misses the genuine, innocent smiles you used to give him at the beginning of your relationship when everything was still going well. He takes your hand in his, - the one that is the most damaged -, and raises it to his mouth. His lips linger on the back of your hand, finally putting an end to the long kiss before looking back at you. You sigh and sniffle, pursing your lips to stifle another cry that hurt your chest.
“It’s okay to cry, Y/N, you know that you won’t get a reward for bottling all up,” Seonghwa slowly drags you to his chest, feeling his shirt getting wet as your tears kept falling from your eyes. “It’s okay to have darker days,” he whispers against your head as he softly soothes your back, bringing his hand up and down your spine. “But I’m tired of life!” you scream, but it is muffled by his chest, your body heaving up and down in his embrace, “I’m tired of living, of people telling me that it’s going to be alright, I’m tired of life throwing me obstacles and problems all the time, I wish I could get even a day of feeling great! I wish I could get better at everything,” your voice dies down as you end your sentence, your arms fall dangling, too weak to even do something. Seonghwa rubs your back soothingly, but it was to no avail, your cries wouldn’t die down.
"I know Y/N. I know your struggles, I see and hear about them. I wish I could do more about it, it hurts me to see you so much in pain, but I still love you. I know it might not help, but I’m staying by your side during those hard times and even after, we’re going to get through this together, I promise. You have my entire support. Even if it takes months, I won’t leave you all alone.” He takes a break from talking as your cries increase, your hands now fisting his brown t-shirt. “You’re not alone, I promise to help you as much as I can. It punches me in the heart whenever you’re in pain, I want to help you get better as quickly as possible. It’s hard to see you constantly suffering, but you only get stronger after all of this.” “Don’t you think I’ve endured enough? Don’t you think I’m tired of constantly living in pain, feeling like I’m getting dragged by life?” you whisper against his chest, feeling frustration building up in your heart. “Of course you are tired of this. You went through a lot but look at yourself, honey. You are much stronger than at the beginning of the year. You might not see it, but I do. You put up with a lot more than before, I promise that you are a lot tougher than before. Don’t lose hope, you’ve come already so far, you don’t want to give up now. You’re a strong girl, my strong girl, and we’re going to get you back onto your feet as quickly as possible, alright? Even if it takes time, I’ll help you,” you don’t say anything, so he caresses the back of your head and hums, as to ask you to confirm. You nod, but tears still roll down your cheeks, your eyes getting bloodier as you let your sadness invade your body.
“Promise that you won’t give up?” he asks, showing his pinkie to you. You weakly smile at the childish behaviour of your boyfriend but did it anyway. “As long as you stay by my side, I won’t give up,” you say as your voice come out groggily from crying, and Seonghwa leant in, delicately kissing you on the forehead. “I promise you that I won’t. Come on, let’s go inside now, it’s getting colder,” the sun had set a couple of minutes ago and the wind was getting stronger. You followed your boyfriend as he opened the glass sliding door to your living room. You welcome the warmth of the area with a sigh, sniffling as Seonghwa kept holding your hand. He draws you to the bathroom and opened the cabinet above the sink, grabbing a band-aids box. He gently smiles at you as he grabs the tube of antiseptic cream, dabbing some on your bloody fingers. You faintly grimace as it burns your cuts, making Seonghwa kiss your cheek before wiping the remaining of your tears away.
Once he finished wrapping every tip of your damaged fingers in bandages, he grabs your hand and strolls to your shared bedroom where he sits you on the bed before going to his wardrobe. He got out a pastel yellow hoodie, one of his item of clothing that you loved the most. He then walks back to you, unfolding it, sweetly ordering you to take off your sweater. After obeying, he passes his over your head, helping you stick your arms through the sleeves, dragging the fabric over your body. He sits on the bed with you, takes off his shirt and put on a pair of sweatpants before gesturing you to lay down, resting comfortably by your side.
“You need to rest now, tomorrow is another day, okay?” you nod and close your eyes, the laundry scent on your boyfriend’s hoodie already making you feel safe. Carefully, he wraps his arm over your waist and draws you to him, your face finding its spot back on his chest. You breathe in against his skin as you can catch the remaining of his perfume that he spritzed his shirt with this morning. “Thank you, Hwa,” you mumble, and his hand goes to your hair, fingers carding through a few wild strands as you can hear him softly chuckle. “It’s alright princess, you don’t have to thank me for any of this,” he murmurs and kisses your temple, keeping on massaging your scalp. He barely even has time to wish you goodnight that you cuddle further into his chest, the action in your hair and his body warmth bringing you enough peace to fall asleep in his arms, forgetting your worries for a few hours. Seonghwa slightly chuckles as he suddenly hears your regular breathing patterns, your exhaustion finally took over you, his hand soothingly working at the shallow end of your back. “Everything will get better, I promise.” He whispers, looking at you sleeping for a few seconds before closing his eyes, falling asleep in no time as well.
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‘Two Down, One To Go’ - part 3
Hopefully I didn’t spend eight months burning the festival vods into my memory to end this badly. Tubbo was there for Tommy the night after he lost his second life, and he’d like to return the favour. After his temper gets the better of him, the last of the heroic Pogtopians must deal with the fallout and figure out what to do next. Featuring a little headcanon about how a person knows how many lives they have left.
part one | part two
---
After what felt like a century, it was quickly ended. Tommy was never going to win, that much was clear from the start, and it was clear in his movements and the growing fearful look in his eyes that he wanted it to end. Techno’s eyes met Tubbo’s for a split second as he dealt the final blow, a punch that landed square in the middle of Tommy’s face. There was a horrible crack, and Tommy slammed into the wall of the pit, blood gushing from his nose and down the white part of his shirt like a raging river. He tilted his head back as Techno advanced for the final time, pushing him away with the back of his forearm, pinning him against the wall, and it was unclear if the motion was to keep Tommy from attacking or from pitching forward. Their eyes met: Tommy’s were dilated with fear and pain, while Techno’s beady gaze was steely but triumphant. They seemed to come to some understanding (perhaps of what mortality is), for Tommy then shut his eyes and dropped his head. Techno stepped away, and the boy slumped to the ground.
With the ease and temperament of a cultivated warrior, the Blade straightened up, wiping at his face and smearing some of Tommy’s blood about his eyes. It was like he was wearing a crimson masquerade mask. For a few moments, there was again that uneasy silence: something about the Blade looking over the crowd kept them quiet, subjugated by his aura of intimidation. Then he looked away, and there was a small burst of noise from the crowd - like a firework - as they began to disperse, sensing the end of the dramatics.
The Blade put one hand on the side of the pit and hopped up with the grace of a dancer. Compared to Tommy, bruised and bloodied, you could hardly tell he’d been in a fight. He looked between the lingering scraps of the crowd, Wilbur waiting with a smile and his hands still in his pockets, Niki glowering at him, Tubbo looking at the floor by his feet and Tommy still slumped against the wall of the pit. One clear of the throat had all of them looking vaguely in his direction, but he was looking for Tommy’s attention. “So..?” “F*ck you man,” Tommy said through a mouthful of blood. The pigman just laughed, and it echoed around the cavern like thunder. “It stays in the pit.” And off he went, an arm lazily thrown across Wilbur’s shoulders as he painted pictures of a destroyed Manberg in the air with his hands and words, the crowd stalking them rife with gossip and gawking and money changing hands. Tubbo’s stomach dropped.
“What are we going to do?” Niki’s voice was soft, barely audible in the echoing noise. Tubbo leant his head back against one of the rough stone walls, the burns curling around his eyes stinging. There was a spluttering to his left: Tommy attempting to clear his mouth of the blood still trickling from his nostrils. “I don’t know.” He admitted, lurching forward to go and help Tommy. “No no, I’m coming up, don’t.” It took Tommy a couple tries to scramble out of the hole in the ground, one palm pressed ineffectively against his nose, still leaking down his face. “Bloody thing- hah-”
“C’mere-” Tubbo reached for his face, the edge of a smile creeping into his voice as Tommy tried to duck away, also ineffectually. “Nah I’m fine, trust me-” “Mate-” He’d managed to grab Tommy’s wrist, reeling him in and slinging his other arm about his waist to keep him there. He ignored the flare of pain from the burns on his chest and arms, instead grinning at the grimace Tommy was giving him as he pulled his hand away from his nose. “You’re doing a sh*t job with that nose bleed.” He pinched his nose, “Head back, big man.”
Tommy crossed his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum and threw his head back. They waited in the growing quiet for an indeterminate amount of time, as the people became more settled, as Niki grew more restless next to them, as the pressure on Tubbo’s injuries ached more and more, until finally he couldn’t take the lancinating pain any longer, and sprang away from Tommy with a wobble, breathing heavily.
His eyes were screwed shut, as were his teeth gritted and fists balled up, nails digging back into raw flesh and bandages. Prime this hurts. He couldn’t seem to get enough air. He sank to his knees, retreating into Tommy’s jacket like a hedgehog or a turtle hiding beneath protective layers. His head throbbed, like someone was bashing on it with a hammer. Somewhere in the back of his mind - the logical part - he knew what was happening. The danger had passed, the fighting ended. His body had pulled down the protective wall it had raised since Schlatt had snatched the mic from him, and now he was feeling the full force of his injuries without the adrenaline rush to dull the pain. But the part of him that knew this, the part that was telling him he was fine wasn’t as loud as the headache trying to split his skull from the inside.
‘Get up,’ He fell back on his Manberg habitats: don’t cry around other people, don’t show weakness or injury. ‘Stop this now, and get up.’ He willed himself to stand, commanding one leg at a time up. He got one foot flat on the floor and almost stood on it, when another wave of nauseating agony swept over him and he pitched sideways, crumpling into a heap on the floor like a discarded suit blazer.
“Tubbo-” Roughly, he pushed himself off the floor, ignoring the stabbing sensation from his palms as he righted himself. ‘Stop this. Get up.’ “Woah- Tubbo, stop a second-” ‘Stop horsing around. For Prime’s sake, get up now.’ “Tubbo, wait- Holy Prime, stop moving, you’re hurting yourself.”
Tommy’s hands hesitantly grazed his sides, feeling through his borrowed jacket where the bandages got thinner as his eyes traced the rest of them covering most of Tubbo’s upper half where burns didn’t. “Aah- Sto- Stop-” Tubbo managed to get out, shaking his head quickly and falling away from Tommy, the movement making him feel lightheaded. The hands quickly retracted. “Knees?” He nodded, a lot slower than before. “Are- Are you okay? What hurts?” Tommy asked as he put his hands palm down on Tubbo’s lap. The older boy fought through a mental fog that threatened to cloud his vision. “E-Everything-” He exhaled quickly in something that might’ve been a laugh in another universe, staring down at Tommy’s hands on his knees and laying his own next to them. “My head- It feels like- like someone keeps hitting me and- m- my heart-” He shook violently, bandaged hands going to clutch his sides as if to hold himself together.
“Hey,” Tommy leaned closer so he was looking up to talk, his expression empathetic, a soft smile in his eyes as he spoke gently. “This happened before, remember? This happens when you lose a life. Remember last time, in the Camarvan? It passes. Just wait with me, alright?” “Everything hurts-” “I know,” He patted a steady rhythm into Tubbo's lap, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, like a waltz. Slowly, gradually, the agony receded, relinquishing his senses back to him, and he became aware that Niki had knelt by his side. "What can I do..?" Her mascara was running. Tommy gave her a soft smile, “I think… I think we should get out of this f*ckin’ cave. Get some air.”
“I think you need a change of clothes, big man.” Tubbo croaked, and they both looked down at Tommy’s shirt, stained rusty-red with the blood of multiple people. “Speak for yourself.” He said lightly, and Niki gave a breathy sigh. “I think we should burn it.” “His or mine?” “Both.” She said with a slight laugh, glancing behind her. “I could go find some for us now?” Tommy replied with a shake of the head. “Let’s just get out of here. Although-” He glanced at the axe by the side of the pit. “If we’re going up top we could do with a shield or two and some weapons, y’know, standard procedure.” He jumped to his feet and scurried away with a call of: “I’ll be right back!”
“Hey Tubbo,” He glanced up to see Niki smiling warmly, sitting cross-legged beside him. “Are you alright now?” “I’ve certainly been better.” Their half-hearted laughter flickered like candlelight. “So, um… What Tommy said about you being down a life… Is it true?”
His hand went to the tally under his collarbone leisurely, feeling through the bandages to the tiny, earth-shattering ridges beneath. Two. There were definitely two.
“Yep,” He breathed. “I am down to one canon life.” Stating the fact seemed to make it all the more real. He was the third of his friends to slip, and now he too walked the boundary between those that stay and those that have passed. “I’m so sorry.” She patted his leg. “If I’d have done something- if any of us had done anything-” “Don’t.” He caught her hand. “It’s not worth thinking about. Besides, the Blade has already made it clear that- that it wouldn’t have been worth it.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he felt it was warranted. Sure, military strategy dictated they’d done the right thing. Sure, they only lost one set of eyes on the inside, and not two. But it was like Tommy had said: it was getting less about the nations and the wars and the ideals by the day - at least to them. Of the three founding fathers of L’Manberg, they only had three lives between them now. Some resentful part of him wished they’d found the button. A front-row view of Manberg’s destruction would’ve been better than this.
“What would you have wanted, though?” Niki has this remarkable ability to see through people, almost as if she had heard his thoughts drifting to the button. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to think, and he was standing on the stage again, boxed in by yellow concrete and foes all at the same time. His eyes darted up to the rooftop of the NASA building, where he’d been only minutes ago. Wilbur and Tommy, highlighted figures in brown and red against the cheerful blue sky, each had a hand on their communicators, Tommy staring straight at him, mouth wide open in disbelief while Wilbur’s fingers flew furiously across the keyboard.
‘techno is on our side’
‘he wont hurt you’
“Wilbur said he wasn’t gonna hurt me.” He opened his eyes again, back in the ravine, though he didn’t doubt part of him would ever leave the concrete box. He looked Niki in the eyes, “I would’ve liked the truth, I think. I would’ve liked... to know.” She nodded, and the next time he blinked they were walking through the fields of a once-great nation together, anticipating frivolity and celebration to come, no matter how disagreeable the town they would be painting red. Ironic turn of phrase, to say the least. “This was really not how I expected today to go.” Niki’s laughter in response was sharp. “Definitely not.” She smiled sympathetically. “If it’s worth anything, I thought your speech was very good.”
He smiled indulgently, just in time for Tommy to reappear looking like a packhorse, weighed down with two shields and enough weapons to take back Manberg. None of these things were in his hands though: he was juggling three round grease paper packages, and Tubbo knew exactly what was coming when he stopped juggling and presented Niki with one, standing up straight for once and putting some false bravado into his voice.
“By the way Niki, welcome to Pogtopia. Here’s your dinner. A quick note, we’re not exactly equipped for high cuisine, so I’ll run you through how mealtimes work if you’re going to take your meals in the cafeteria-” He gestured at the bashed-up picnic benches they’d had to disassemble to get into the cave, and then reassemble to eat off of in the space next to the ‘kitchen’ in one very funny afternoon swearing at badly-translated instruction manuals. “Here’s the menu: since we were late back, we get yesterday’s leftovers, the emergency potato stockpile. Also, Technoblade does not seem to be in a chefing mood.” There was a round of awkward faces before he continued. “Tomorrow morning for breakfast: potato stew probably, hopefully not reheated. Tomorrow lunchtime: potato, maybe in a salad.” By now Niki was starting to figure out the pattern, the confusion on her face travelling through disgust to disappointment to resignation to acceptance. “Tomorrow for dinner: jacket potatoes- Hey, do you wanna guess what’s for breakfast the day after?” “Oh boy! I wonder…” They giggled, the first human sound to grace the cavern walls in too long. “I swear on Prime, I wouldn’t have asked for the pig’s assistance if I’d known he’d only cook us potatoes.” His eyes flicked momentarily to Tubbo, and his smile dropped. “As well as a couple other things, y’know…”
The air around them shimmered, or maybe that was just Tubbo’s vision. “We need to get out of here.” “Yeah.” Tommy’s response was quiet and laced with a foreign grief. They headed for the stairs together, Niki following attentively behind, and when their shoulders collided, their hands joined automatically in a softer hold than ever before.
“Did- Did you do that alone?” Tubbo asked Tommy as they climbed the stairs, part of a shuffling conga line of heroes and refugees and martyrs. He looked back for a moment, his eyelashes casting strange shadows down his cheeks from the swinging lamps next to them. “Do what?”
“What- What happened to me just now, and what happened in the Camarvan. When everything hurts and you feel like you’re going to die again.” Tommy’s somewhat guarded expression melted, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah.” He admitted in his softer tone, “At my house, before I came to tell everyone.” “Why?” Tommy turned away as they kept climbing. “We would’ve been there to help you, if- You didn’t even tell the others for ages though, did you?” He remembered a single terrifying moment in the middle of the biggest party they’d ever been to (thoroughly discounting today) when Tommy confided in him. “You didn’t want to worry everyone.” “I didn’t want their pity either.” He said, tone level.
“How did you do it?” “I… Don’t remember. I think I blacked out, at least functionally.”
Not only had his best friend handled, or tried to handle, the pain of losing a life alone, but he’d also attempted to silently carry that burden by himself. Just the thought of it put a weight over Tubbo’s heart. “I would’ve helped you.” He murmured as they took a left and escaped the crowd, heading towards another exit. “You did,” He said lightly. “All those nights you stopped me waking half the nation? That counts.” They crossed the floor of the small chamber at the top of the spiral staircase, and Tubbo suddenly dropped Tommy’s hand and stopped to open the enderchest against the wall. With careful hands he drew out the record with the red label and a smile from Tommy.
“That’s the real one, isn’t it?”  Tubbo looked between his two companions. “Anyone got a jukebox?” They didn’t have their bench, but no matter where in the world you are banished to, you’ll always have the sun.
Injured and weary, yet stubbornly surviving still, the three of them climbed the steps to the sky and caught enough of the last spillage of heaven for the day that they could fit in a full song. And by the last light, they had planned a plot. Of revolt and rebellion. Such familiar words.
And with the first stars rising as their witnesses, they hatched a smaller plan. A little catharsis, if you will.
---
The sky at dusk was gorgeous as the sun gradually sank out of sight. Tubbo wished he could enjoy it, but the ache in his being and his head and his heart was too much. “Are you cold?” He shook his head, but Tommy put his arms around him anyway. He was so careful, draping them where he knew there were no bandages; back, shoulder, standing just behind him and placing his head right next to Tubbo’s. Blocks turned in the jukebox before them, its red label swirling in the low light like a spinning skirt as the melody played for all the men and the beasts and the trees that came to listen.
Out of the blue, Tommy whispered in his ear: “Can I make you a promise I can’t keep?” “I- Yeah, sure.” If he hadn’t been so tired, he might’ve turned his head to see what Tommy was up to. All he knew was that his best friend had leant closer and squeezed his sides warmly. Tubbo ignored the slight painful twinge. “I promise-” He whispered, the words so soft they got lost in the song. “-to keep you safe, Tubso.” “Oh.” “I promise, as long as I live, to be there, to stand between you and Techno, or Eret, or Schlatt or Dream or Wilbur or- or Death him-bloody-self, and I promise to say ‘No you may f*ckin’ not hurt him’ and-” “Okay, I get it-” “-and I’ll f*ckin’ fight them, all of them if I have to.” “I’m fine Tommy, you don’t have to be all sappy for me.”
“It’s true.” And though he hadn’t moved that whole time, nor had his tone changed, Tommy’s arms suddenly felt a lot safer to be in. “No matter what happens, whether Techno is on our side or not, whether we get Wilbur back or get more people on our side or not or whatever, it’s me and you - and Niki - together against- against the world. And I mean that.”
Like a blanket straightened over a bed, a small silence settled over them as the last signs of the sun vanished behind the next hill. “Swear it,” Tubbo’s voice was barely above a breath. “On something important.” He couldn’t explain his sudden change of heart, but maybe the way his limbs shook with leftover adrenaline and fatigue and fear could. “I- I swear it on the discs. Me and you, ‘till the ends of the Earth.” “Always those discs.” He couldn’t keep the slightest hint of mockery out of his voice, but Tommy just hummed in disagreement. “If I swore it on the safety of the most precious thing, it wouldn’t be a promise, it’d be a paradox.”
By the time the meaning of his words dawned on Tubbo, Niki had reappeared, and Tommy let go out of his shoulders, a knowing smile gracing his features as he purposely avoided Tubbo’s scrutiny. “Had trouble finding it?” “No, actually.” She took a few deep breaths before continuing. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find a lighter in there.” Tommy and Tubbo shared a look equal parts bemusement and consternation. “Well come on then, the sun’s about to have gone down and I don’t know about you, but it’s getting a bit f*ckin’ cold out here.” “I think that’s because you’re only wearing a t-shirt, Tommy.” Niki teased, while the boy just shot her back an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well,” He turned to look at Tubbo, ruffling his hair somewhat roughly. “I lost my jacket like an hour ago.”
They tittered in tandem until Niki cleared her throat. “Who’s gonna do the honours?” His companions then immediately answered her question by looking to Tubbo. The edges of his lips curved upwards. “Can someone else hold it for me?” “I’ll get it-” “No, let me.” Tommy squinted at Niki.  “I think least injured should do it, just in case.” She reasoned. “Didn’t you get shot on the way out of Manberg?” “Didn’t you fight an entire crowd in Manberg by yourself?” “That’s a bit stupid,” Tubbo interjected. “I was trying to find you.” Tommy shrugged. “Okay, yeah, you hold it.”
Straightening her posture, Niki pressed the lighter into Tubbo’s hands and then held up the jacket. It was Tubbo’s Manberg Secretary of State uniform, jet black and singed and soaked-through in places. His thumb played with the catch over the hood of the lighter. “Just- What are we gonna do with it when it’s… on fire, y’know?” Both of his fellows stared blankly at each other. “One second.” Tommy took two steps backwards and disappeared over the ledge, and Tubbo skittered forward with half a laugh to see that he’d hopped down to borrow some water from the nearest pond. “Love the forward planning skills we got here.”
Rather comically, it took Tommy about a minute to lug the bucket of water back up the hill. “We will have no forest fires tonight.” And the three of them giggled a bit more. “Okay,” Niki said, wiping at the corner of her eye. “Ready?”
It took more force than usual for Tubbo to get the lighter to work, and once the flame appeared he snatched his fingers away, conscious of the flammability of his bandages. Niki held the blazer before her, arm high in the air, and Tubbo reached out, touching the end of the lighter to the edge of one of the sleeves. At first, nothing happened, and then, the jacket caught. Abruptly, Niki was forced to let go of the flaming piece of clothing as the fire raced up and across it in seconds. “Holy sh*t.” She whispered. “F*cking sh*t indeed.” Tommy tugged Tubbo back towards him as the blazer dropped into the wind, flapping downhill as it dissipated into dark ash. “I was not expecting that.” “Probably the amount of alcohol soaked into the fabric,” Tubbo said with disdain. “Good f*cking riddance, Manberg.” “YEAH!” His friends cheered together, and he watched as the fire consumed the uniform he’d despised so much. The flag on the left lapel seemed to glow as the flames ate away at it, and that made them three out of three for burning a Manberg flag.
“I heard there was a special place,” Tubbo and Niki looked at Tommy with incredulity as he began to sing the anthem, but there was a certain mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he sang, and they joined in, the familiar words and melody both a comfort and a thorn. “Where men could go and emancipate, The brutality, and the tyranny of their rulers,” Tommy held his hands up, silencing the other two as he grinned. “Well this place is real, don’t be afraid, With Tubbo-” He pointed to each of them in turn. “Tommy, Niki, F*CK TECHNOBLADE-!”
The three of them fell about laughing. “You should do it louder Tommy, I don’t think he heard you-” Niki said between the hooting emanating from a small crowd gathered at the Pogtopia tower and the hysterical laughter of her comrades. His shouts echoed throughout the little valley they overlooked, and they soon resumed the tune, joined by members of the rebellion across the land, humming and singing along whether they were allowed or not. To be a traitor is not a respectable thing, but sometimes it is better to follow one’s heart than one’s leader.
“It’s a very big and not blown up L’Manberg!” It was as if the land itself was singing, and Tubbo hoped they could hear this chorus back in Manberg. “For L’Manberg!” For those that were unsure, that needed to hear that paradise had existed and could again. “For L’Manberg!” For those that were still left behind, keeping their heads down and staying out of trouble, especially after tonight. Tubbo tried to inject as much panache into his voice as he could, partially for them, for those that were rightfully too afraid and unable to sing along. But mostly because he wanted JSchlatt to hear him. “For L’Manberg!” He wanted to walk through the nation he’d served for so long, waving the correct flag, singing their song, and he wanted especially to scare the sh*t out of that tyrant. I survived, he wanted to say, standing at the other end of the trigger. I survived, and I’m leading the choir, and we’re going to have our land back thank you very much, no matter how many tallies on our charts. “For L’Maaaaaanberg!”
For L’Manberg, and for everything it stood for. Tubbo, like his friends, is down to his final life, and he’s sick of playing nice.
---
Taglist: @nixavia @zrenia @spaceheatertrash @hitherto-blue (Please let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist in future :)
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thormanick · 2 years
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well-well-well, let's see...
I posted 363 times in 2021 - that's... almost a post a day. 0_0 wow.
182 posts created (50%)
181 posts reblogged (50%)
a perfect balance, as all things shoul-
For every post I created, I reblogged 1.0 posts.
I added 560 tags in 2021
#genshin impact - 233 posts
#afinna explores teyvat - 64 posts
#genshin impact thoughts - 50 posts
#genshin impact albedo - 39 posts
#afinna exlpores teyvat - 37 posts
#genshin impact childe - 35 posts
#genshin impact kaeya - 29 posts
#genshin impact theory - 26 posts
#my art - 24 posts
#lyrical genshin - 23 posts
I can't believe that I never noticed I used a misspelled tags. Oh my.
Longest Tag: 135 characters
#look my brain cycles through phases ‘oh it could suit this otp of mine’ and ‘oh this could suit otp of mine’ there’s nothing in between
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Ayaka and Thoma: please help us with revolution!
me, playing: yeah!
The Traveller: hell no
Me, Ayaka and Thoma: *confused noises*
83 notes • Posted 2021-07-21 12:40:35 GMT
#4
So I suddenly thought that if Aether resembles the Sun, and Lumine resembles the Moon, then Dainsleif resembles the Night Sky, which makes me more and more convinced in the theory that they’re somehow related-
88 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 08:52:22 GMT
#3
thoughts on things financial in Genshin because the Traveller is broke and this particular thing is hilarious
my mind is literally blowing because of the fact that thoma would, actually, financially be a more natural phenomenon in Liyue, where people are used to discuss prices and change them, and childe would be a more natural phenomenon in Inazuma because he spends so much money without looking back on it and i just need to say what an Incredibly Good Financial Decision the Tsaritsa made when she sent the 11th harbinger to Liyue because i am sure that if she had sent him to Inazuma the whole economy of Snezhnaya would have already collapse by now, in this essay I-
96 notes • Posted 2021-07-21 12:29:19 GMT
#2
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Yay! Here’s the final little bonus I had for the Albether comics!
Once again thank you for going through this little journey with me and I wish you a great day! :)
page 1 and the rest of the comic
~Please click for better quality~
120 notes • Posted 2021-03-29 05:20:22 GMT
#1
I’ve seen some mermay aus going around, so I decided to add a little something to them while May lasts
Mermaid!Kaebedo AU with Kaeya as a human and Albedo as a mermaid, except the humans are the species that went practically extinct
So when Albedo finds Kaeya slowly drowning his first reaction is that of a serious dignified scientist:
“sucrosesuCrOSESUCROSE A HUMAN O ARCHONS SUCROSE LOOK HERE I FOUND A HUMAN! LOOK! A REAL HUMAN!”
“D-don’t those need air to b-breathe, sir?”
“oh sh-” que Albedo rushing to the surface to actually save Kaeya
130 notes • Posted 2021-05-30 20:48:15 GMT
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kpopmultifan127 · 4 years
Text
UserName: HaechanTheSun02
*DISCLAIMER: unprotected sex (be responsible), dirty talk, a tiny bit of fluff, camgirl*
Characters: Haechan/Donghyuck x female reader
Word count: 3,088
LOL I DIDN’T PROOF READ SO IF THERE ARE MISTAKES SORRY!
[7:00 AM] her alarm goes off to wake herself up for another day of school. College was so hectic for y/n. She really had no support what so ever or anyone around to help her with her studies. Y/n was kind of just to herself most of the time. 
As she sat up on her bed to check her phone, she had a few notifications from her mom asking how’s school and if she needed any money. y/n hated asking her parents for money, she wanted to be independent. It was pretty bad too she thought of so many ways to make the money. But she couldn’t get a job because that would conflict with her studies and didn’t want to bring all of her school stuff to work.
That’s when y/n were reading that CamGirls were quite popular. Men and women watching other women play with themselves for money. She’s started doing it not too long, and she was making some decent money to help with paying off her school tuition.
y/n checked the rest of her notifications which most of them were from the site she uses to go for her CamLive.
{From: HaechanTheSun02} Are you going to go live tonight SunGoddess? I just got paid and I’m ready to blow it all on you babe.
HaechanTheSun02 whoever that person can be was her frequent viewer and the stuff he’d send as she was live always turned her on and even mentioned to him that she hope to meet him someday. Maybe he can say those things to her face. y/n thought to herself....”I could use more money...yeah I guess I’ll go live tonight” y/n then posted a status Be ready for tonight because it’s going to be fun! seconds after posting it she’s gotten many likes.
sometimes y/n was still at little awkward and shy at what she does on the side, but at least she doesn’t really have to worry about it. She doesn’t have a lot of friends or people coming over so she just lived her days as if nothing happens.
y/n got ready for school and headed out. her first class of the day she always dreaded. It was Chemisty, she was horrible at it and never really talked to anyone in her class except her desk mate pretty much her only friend Mina. Mina was also the only person that knows of her “side job”, it never bothered her that y/n did these kinds of things. She’d always tell her “hey as long as you’re not doing drugs, do whatever floats your boat”
As class was about to start y/n and Mina began taking out their books. y/n got distracted as she looked up to see the man of her dreams. His name was Donghyuck, one of the most popular guys in school he was gorgeous, athletic, never judges anyone and one of the smartest guys in this class. Y/n never dared to talk to him as she wouldn’t know what to say to do around him. Mina noticed y/n face started to become a light shade of pink and her ears turn red.
Mina: you’ve been gawking about Hyuck for so long...why don’t you just talk to him?!
y/n: are you crazy?!
Mina: why?! what’s so crazy about talking to him?
y/n: I wouldn’t know what to do or say.
Mina let out a soft scoff.
Mina: oh please we both know you always think about him during your damn camlive’s!
y/n: OH MY GOD SHHH! Before someone hears you!
Mina just rolled her eyes, and then their teacher comes walking into their class. Their teacher didn’t look to happy when she walked into class, as she slammed her book on the desk.
Teacher: you guys I’m so disappointed in most of you...I can tell most of you guys didn’t study for this simple test. We’ve gone over these things over and over. 
She continued to lecture the class about getting work done and doing good on tests. 
Teacher: I’m doing something different now. Everyone grab your stuff and get off your seats. I’m moving everyone around!
The entire class sighed in disbelief because now Mina and y/n knew they weren’t going to be able to sit next to each other the rest of the year.
Teacher: I’m pairing everyone off with someone that is able to help one and another. 
In y/n mind she was getting nervous, she knew she was one of the few who did horrible on the test because she HATED Chemistry. She could care less who she sat next to other than Hyuck. Y/n wouldn’t do well sitting next to him.
Teacher: Mina and Johnny. you guys are together.
Mina made eye contact with y/n mouthing “I’m sorry” although they know it’s neither of their faults they can’t sit next to each other.
Teacher: y/n?
y/n: yes?....
Teacher: you are going to be with....
y/n thinks to herself “please not Hyuck, please not Hyuck”
Teacher: you and Donghyuck.
y/n frozen at her steps as she heard the one person she wish not to sit with, but now has no choice. Y/n set her things at her new desk along with Hyuck. He looked at her with a soft smile.
Hyuck: Hey new deskmate. y/n right?
y/n:...yeah
Hyuck: what’s wrong?
y/n:...we both know why I’m sitting next to you....obviously I’m not the smartest.
Hyuck: it’s ok we can help each other out isn’t this the whole point of the new seating arrangements?
y/n thought to herself...maybe this isn’t bad after all. He never made her feel like she was dumb or that he was bigger than her. y/n looked at her books with a smile as she glanced over to Mina where she’s making kissy faces to her. Mina mouthing to her “TALK TO HIM IDIOT” 
School went by smoothly and y/n was so happy her day was done and she can just go home. She did all her homework, showered, ate and did a little bit of more studying before she jumped on her live feed.
[11:30 pm] y/n turns on her cam and sits there waiting for others to join..
So far 30 people signed on...more than she imagined...this was a big crowd this time around, she usually only has 10-20 people watching her. y/n looked to see who was in the room.
y/n: hey bigdaddy23....I’m going to start here in a bit. I’m just going to go get ready.
y/n walked off camera changing into only her silk robe that HaechanTheSun02 sent to you through the site. y/n never showed her face just up to her nose, never showing her entire face so she can keep her identity safe. When she came back she noticed HaechanTheSun02 signed on and commented “I’m ready for you baby”
y/n: hey Haechan....I’m ready for you. and all of you.
{HaechanTheSun02} I’m loving that robe on you...I’m sure it’ll look better off of you....
y/n began to tease her views by slipping off her robe.
{HaechanTheSun02 donated $150}
y/n: wow thank you Haechan....want more?
y/n began to play with herself as comments and donations kept rolling in.
{HaechanTheSun02} man the things I’d do to that lil pussy...
y/n: oh yeah what would you do to it?
y/n letting out soft moans as she continued to play with every part of her body.
{HaechanTheSun02} I’d fuck it like there was no tomorrow. Let you ride me until you I fill you up.
Shivers went down y/n body as she was close to her high. Wishing whoever he was watching could just be there doing it all for her. y/n hit her high as she moaned on camera until she finished coming all over her fingers. Pulling them out showing the camera.
y/n: look Haechan...look what you did do me...Well that’s it for tonight, thank you all for watching.
y/n blew a soft kiss to the camera and turned it off. After cleaning herself off she laid in bed still coming back down from her high earlier, all she could think about is Donghyuck. Being a camgirl is another reason why she didn’t want to talk to him and he end finding out what she does. 
A few days has passed and you’ve gotten a little closer to Hyuck. The teacher announced that they had a project due for the mid terms and it was a partner project with your deskmate.
Hyuck: I’d invite you to my house to work on the project but my roommate Jeno is back from his trip and the place is kinda small.
y/n: It’s ok. I live by myself, we can work on it at my house.
y/n thought to herself...”oh wait, what if he finds out about what I do?...nah no way he’d no. He’s not into that kind of stuff”
Hyuck: oh good...we can work on it tonight? I can take us to your house?
y/n: yeah sure...
Hyuck: I just need to run to my house to grab a few things and we can go.
After school Hyuck drove back to his place to grab a few things to work with on the project.
y/n: you weren’t kidding when you said your place was small...
Hyuck: haha yeah, I use to live with my parents but they moved back to Seoul and I just stayed back with Jeno.
y/n looked around while he grabbed some things. She saw a baby picture of Hyuck on the beach with his little sister. It brought a smile to her face.
y/n: is this you?
Hyuck: haha yeah, and my little sister...
y/n: you’re so cute...I mean you’re still cute now...no well I mean...
y/n became red and looked away. Leaving Hyuck with a smile on his face.
Hyuck: Ok I got what I needed are you ready?
They left his house and arrived at y/n’s apartment. 
y/n: sorry it’s a little messy in the living room, I’m repainting the walls. We can work in my room.
They walked over to her room. Hyuck standing in the doorway looking around her room, as it was really familar to him.
y/n: are you ok?
Hyuck:...oh- yeah..I’m fine.
He noticed the silk robe hanging on the back of your chair.
Hyuck: nice robe..
y/n:...oh haha thanks. Someone gave it to me as uhh---
y/n began to stutter to think “Who and what do I say as what it was given to me for?”
y/n:....as a thank you gift...
Hyuck:..ah ok.
In his mind he’s seen this before....he knew for a fact this is the same robe he gave the camgirl he watches every night.
y/n: ready?
Hyuck: oh--yeah.
Hyuck couldn’t concentrate on the project knowing that y/n was the one he’s been watching while jerking himself off wishing she could do it for him. He kept glancing over to her as she was doing her part of the project. y/n needed something on the side of the desk Hyuck was on. Y/n stood up and leaned over him to grab whatever she needed. Hyuck could feel himself become hard as she was leaning over him.
y/n: you ok Hyuck?
Hyuck: oh yeah...I’m fine.
As he sat up in his chair trying to adjust himself without being obvious his dick was hard as a rock.
Hyuck: is it ok if I used your bathroom?
y/n: yeah sure it’s the door right across.
He stood up and walked straight to the door while y/n continued to finish her work.
Whispering to himself...
Hyuck: no that can’t be her..there’s no way. damn she’s hot....no. I can’t...she’s my desk mate. She won’t do shit with me.
Hyuck threw some water on his face and walked back into the room where he saw y/n bent over picking up the pencils she dropped. He felt himself become even more hard looking at her behind right in front of him. Hyuck walked closer to y/n as she stood up and turned to face him where they were inches away from each other’s lips.
y/n:...wh--what’s wrong Hyuck.
y/n glancing down to see what was rubbing against her body as she saw how hard Hyuck was. Giving her chills down her back and felt herself become wet as she was being touched by the man of her dreams.
Hyuck: I know you see it...what are you going to do now?
y/n: wh-what do you mean?
Hyuck: you did this to me....
y/n: ..d--do what?
He then grabbed her hand and placed it on his hard member that she caused. y/n became more and more wet with feel of him.
Hyuck: you did this to me...I want you to fix it.
y/n: what do you want me to do?
Hyuck: I want you to ride it so I can fill you up like there’s no tomorrow.
y/n heard those words before...those words that made her feel good. More chills came down her spine....she thought for a moment...is this Haechan? nah that can’t be him.
Hyuck: Wear that pretty robe I gave you.
y/n: huh?
Hyuck glanced over to the robe that draped over her chair...that’s when she knew he was Haechan..
y/n: you’re HaechanTheSun?
Hyuck: why are you so surprised and shy now? so you’re the one I’ve been jerking off to every night...man the things I’d do to that pretty lil pussy of yours.
y/n: I just never thought of you be one of those guys to watch these things.
Hyuck: well now you know...
your body became weak as you fell onto the bed, he could see what it was doing to you and felt the wetness of our core on his thigh as he came closer to you on your bed.
Hyuck: you can tell me to stop if you want...
y/n bit the bottom of her lip and she nodded “no” and pulled him closer to her feeling his hard member against her hot core. Hyuck placing soft kisses on her neck and y/n arched her back at how good everything feels. She can now feel his touch on her and not through a computer screen. Hyuck feeling how wet she was made him harder than he can handle. y/n whispers in his ear...
y/n: I want you inside me Hyuck.
Hyuck:...you don’t have to ask me twice baby...seems like you’re ready for me too. I get to fuck this pretty cunt, be ready because I’m not taking it slow.
As he said that, he slid into her and began to thrust in and out feeling her constricting on his cock.
Hyuck: damn y/n you feel fucken amazing...
y/n: ....don’t stop Hyuck. You feel so fucken good....
He never held back and went in hard making y/n moan turning him on more and more. 
Hyuck: damn baby I finally get to fuck this tight pussy instead of watching you...
y/n: Hyuck I’m almost there---don’t stop
Hyuck: nope not yet baby...
He then pulled out making y/n whimper as he flipped onto his back placing y/n back on his dick...
Hyuck: I want you to ride me until you cum baby..
y/n began grinding on him faster and faster...she could feel her high coming real quick...
y/n:...oh my god I’m gonna....I’m cumming Hyuck.
Hyuck: grind on my dick harder babe....
Seconds after reaching her high and grinding on his dick he came filling her up with his cum. y/n became wobbly and laid on top of Hyuck placing her head on the crook of his neck. Hyuck ran his fingers up and down her back as he became soft in her. Letting her rest on top of him...
Hyuck: damn y/n that was hot...
y/n got off both of them cleaning themselves off. y/n sat on the edge of her bed  with her hands covering her face as she was wearing the robe Hyuck gave her.
Hyuck: what’s wrong?
y/n: ....you know what I do now..
Hyuck: and?
y/n looked up from her hands looking towards Hyuck as she watched him put his clothes back on.
y/n: it doesn’t bother you?
Hyuck: maybe...
y/n: really?
Hyuck: yeah...
y/n had gotten sad because all she could think of is that he hated every bit of it and now that he knows who she was he wanted nothing to do with her.
y/n:...oh ok.
Hyuck:...I don’t want to share you now.
y/n frozen at the edge of her bed by the words he just said. Hyuck walked over to where she was as he stood in front of her. Pulling her chin up for her to look at him. 
Hyuck: I like you y/n
y/n:...you wh--
Hyuck: yeah I like you a lot. After becoming your desk mate and getting to know you, I have a lot of fun with you. But it’s ok if you don’t like me back I still want to hangout with you....
y/n: would you believe me if I told you I liked you before you liked me?
Hyuck: really?
y/n:...yeah. I just never said anything well because you’re Donghyuck the most popular guy in school.
He leaned in to give y/n a kiss on the lips and parted with a smile right after.
Hyuck: so does that mean we are an item now?
y/n shyly nodded yes but then y/n looked down at her lap.
Hyuck: what’s wrong baby?
y/n: I should tell you something too...
Hyuck: what’s up?
y/n: the times I was on live and you were sending those comments to me all I could think about was you. I’d never think HaechanTheSun would be you.
Hyuck: wanna know something?
y/n: yeah?
Hyuck: actually after getting to know you and I’d watch the lives I would think about you all the time. so finally knowing it was you behind that camera was a huge bonus.
y/n giggled...
Hyuck: but I do want to ask...why did you do it? is it because of the money?
y/n scratched the back of her neck...
y/n: well yeah...it’s hard for me to get a job..I mean it’s not I just don’t want my studies to come with me to work.
Hyuck: well I can help you study, but I can’t make promises that I won’t touch you...
Hyuck leaned in and gave y/n another kiss.
Hyuck: well now I can take care of you. and you don’t have to do those cams anymore...b/c that’s only my pussy now and no one elses...
y/n: thank you Haechannie...
Hyuck:...hmm Haechannie...I like that.
After saying that pet name Hyuck pushed y/n back on to the bed ripping the robe off of her once again....
I might do a part 2 to this story but the fluff side of their relationship....
HERE’s PART TWO
179 notes · View notes
soulwillower · 4 years
Text
if you’re too shy • richie tozier
(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)
[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]
requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!
warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always
also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie
[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]
7.4k words lol
i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time
"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"
"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.
richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.
and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.
"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."
bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook. 
richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.
"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him,  for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.
bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."
noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.
girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean
it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"
richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.
bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.
“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.
richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."
he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile
holyshitholyshitholyshit.
he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier. 
"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”
she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?
he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."
"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.
"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.
this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.
he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill. 
"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.
it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile. 
he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame. 
"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way? 
he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.
"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.
"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.
but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.
he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.
y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.
"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"
he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently. 
she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.
and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.
but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.
what are you wearing?
and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.
his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:
this. what are you wearing, rich?
and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.
he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.
he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.
he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.
and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.
you like what you see?
he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...
his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk. 
yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.
he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.
he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....
we could face time yk
or we don't have to.
he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.
like, if you're too shy or something ;)
he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.
i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it
three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.
it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.
it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.
especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.
because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.
but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.
so much for not thinking about her.
but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time
it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.
as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.
"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.
how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.
he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.
god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.
and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.
"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel. 
she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.
he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.
"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.
"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.
"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.
he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.
it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others. 
he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.
"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.
he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.
"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"
"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.
they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.
"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.
"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.
"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.
she hums again.
"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."
her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.
"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.
"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.
"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.
"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.
the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.
"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.
he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.
"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.
he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.
a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.
she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.
well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen
"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho. 
they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.
"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address." 
she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.
she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.
she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.
"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.
"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.
"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.
he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.
unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.
"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.
and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.
her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.
she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.
his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.
the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.
so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.
she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.
"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.
he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.
"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.
she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.
and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please."  her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.
she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.
she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.
but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.
"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.
"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.
"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.
her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.
immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.
"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.
"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.
she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.
"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.
she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.
and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.
"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.
he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.
then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.
"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.
"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.
she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.
she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.
"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.
y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.
he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.
his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.
one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.
"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.
her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.
he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.
"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please."  and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.
"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.
"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.
his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.
"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"
his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks,  then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.
"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.
and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.
a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.
god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.
//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman  @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\
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quickspinner · 4 years
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Killer Combo - Ch 8 Epilogue
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Epilogue | Bonus Tidbits | ART inspired by this story! |  AO3 | Fiction Master Post
Luka sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, as he played the song again, listening hard for that wrong note, that chord that was just a little bit off, or whatever it was that he needed to fix. He shook his head slightly as he finished it, pressing his lips together. All the songs he’d written in the months since he’d gotten Claire back, some that he’d even been able to record in the studio thanks to his tournament winnings, and this had to be the one that didn’t want to come together. He’d been working on it the longest and it still wasn’t right, but he couldn’t figure out why. 
“I like this lovesick tune so much better than the last one,” Juleka sighed from where she was fussing with her hair in her mirror. 
“Color me shocked,” Luka chuckled, slipping Claire off and setting her carefully in her stand. “You and Casey never did get along.” 
“Yeah, well,” Juleka muttered, not looking at him. “This is why.” 
Luka raised his eyebrows slightly. “I don’t follow.”
Juleka sighed and fidgeted, nervously rearranging the things on her table. “Because I know you didn’t feel like this with her. And this is what you deserve to feel. I felt like you were settling for less than you deserved and I didn’t want that for you.”
Luka paused, considering that. She was right, he knew. He’d been happy enough with Casey, but even the best parts of his relationship with Casey paled in comparison with the things he felt for Marinette. 
He wasn’t going to admit it to Juleka’s face though. “Since when did you become the love expert?” Luka asked instead, one corner of his mouth quirking up. 
Juleka tossed her hair over her shoulder and put her nose in the air. “We all have our talents.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just lying and I thought from the beginning that she was a high-maintenance, over-dramatic bitch who thought having a hot potential rock star boyfriend doting on her made her look good to her friends.” 
Luka barked a laugh and turned away to cover the sting he still felt at her words, pulling off his shirt and dropping it on his bed as he dug through his drawers for a clean one. The one he wasn’t wearing wasn’t bad, but he’d been working on deck in the sun. If he hurried, he still had enough time to shower before he went to see Marinette. He grinned stupidly at the thought.
“Are you going to play it for her?” Juleka asked, leaning her chin on one hand and giving him a knowing look. 
“I will,” he said, still smiling. “When it’s right. It’s just...not there yet. I don’t know, something’s just not quite right, it just...needs something. I’ll figure it out though.” 
“You’re going to see her now, aren’t you?” Juleka snickered, and Luka rolled his eyes. 
“She asked me to come by,” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t blushing too much.  
“I’ll bet she did,” Juleka leered. “I bet she loves it when you come.” 
Luka rolled his eyes, snatching up the shirt he’d just changed out of and throwing it at her. “What are you, twelve?”
“Ew,” she complained, pulling off his shirt with two fingers and dropping it on the floor with an expression of disgust. 
“I’m going to shower,” he huffed on his way out the door, and shut the door quickly before Juleka could make any comment on his shower temperature or activities. He was starting to think the benefits of his own place would start to outweigh the money he was saving living at home. 
Half an hour later Luka stepped off the boat and headed toward the bakery with a grin on his face that he couldn’t have suppressed if he tried. 
Luka Couffaine had never been a big believer in fate. He didn’t believe in predetermined destinies or that he was bound to adhere to some kind of cosmic will.
He did believe he was one damn lucky bastard.
Even in the depths of frustration and betrayal and heartbreak, he’d known that. Maybe things weren’t going his way, but he was lucky in so many ways. Luka was lucky to have a family that loved and supported him. He was lucky to have grown out of his lanky teenage ugly duckling stage into a young man that many people found attractive. He was lucky to have a talent and the means and passion to pursue it. He was lucky to have connections and friends all over the local music scene who helped him out when he needed it.
He was lucky to have met Marinette.
Luka had spent a long time wondering after his plans to tour with the band went to hell in a handbasket. About whether his friends had ever really been friends. About how much of his relationship with Casey had been a lie. Had they all been users from the start, and he just hadn’t seen it? Or had their friendship been sincere, had they been content with the plan, until Xavier had come in and dazzled them with promises of something greater? Had Casey been satisfied in their relationship until Xavier was whispering in her ear about what she deserved, how she ought to be treated, and who knew what else Luka hadn’t been around to hear?
It took a lot of thinking, a lot of sad and angry songs played on borrowed guitars that never sounded quite right, a lot of long talks with his mother, and even a few with his sister, to get him out of the spiral of self-recrimination and get his focus back on the future, on what he had to do next. 
Luka hadn’t been thinking about fate or destiny or karma or even luck when he looked into Ladybug’s stunning blue eyes for the first time and shook her small hand. Oh, he’d been impressed with her from the beginning. Her entire vibe was intense and alive and she was sassy and competitive without being cruel, and she was really, really cute. But romance couldn’t have been farther from his mind at that moment. 
Then she kept being thrown in his way, spirited and determined and clearly attracted to him. Marinette had a terrible poker face, and some part of him was delighted by her blushes and glances, but he squashed down the remnant of that ugly duckling teenage boy and kept his cool. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, he wasn’t interested in a fling, and he wasn’t about to lead her on just to flatter his vanity. She dealt with enough bullshit already, so he tried to show her he liked and respected her without letting it go any further. 
Luka kept his cool right up until she was standing there, tough as nails, cute as a button, trying and utterly failing to cover up what a blow it was to have to forfeit an entire event’s worth of matches, knowing it would more than likely knock them out of the running for the finals. Marinette’s frustration was obvious, as was her care for her friend and her determination not to blame him. 
In hindsight Luka wasn’t sure if Marinette was lucky, or he was, that he was there in that moment, ready to swoop in and save the day with his impulsive decision to stand in for Max. He’d had no idea what he was getting into. Playing with her was a blast, but he already knew she was smart and capable and powerful. He could handle Ladybug. 
He was completely unprepared for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the beating heart and passionate spirit behind that tough gamer girl front she put on. 
Luka knew he was in trouble when he left the bakery with weak knees and a frantically beating heart. 
He knew he was in deep trouble when she was sewing his hoodie on the Liberty and he began thoughtlessly composing a song to fit her. 
He knew he was doomed when she stood on the gangplank practically glowing with the sun behind her, looking at him with those big gorgeous eyes, her perfect lips curved into a sweet smile, and all the warmth of their easy companionship still fresh in his heart. 
Still, Luka had hesitated, willing to explore a tentative friendship with her but telling himself he wasn’t ready for anything more. He didn’t trust the attraction he felt towards her. Her crush on him might not even be that serious. He shouldn’t read too much into it. He would just go and compete and they would go back to being casual acquaintances and…
And then she’d taken that first step after him, reached out to him despite her obvious fear, almost expectation that he would reject her, and opened the door to so much more. 
And now he had a beautiful, impossibly sweet, deliciously passionate, insanely brilliant girlfriend with a creative mind like nothing he’d ever seen, and he was the most lovestruck, useless sap on the planet. Marinette was as dramatic as Casey had ever been, but even her drama was comfortable, accommodating, nothing she ever expected him to solve or eliminate. He just stood back and sympathized as she ranted and fumed and had her dramatic movement and then she moved on to actually solving the problem. She was incredibly driven, incredibly kind, and no matter how much time they spent together, he never wished it was less. Maybe Marinette wasn’t a musician but she was an artist, and she always seemed to know how to give him the space to pursue his own passions without ever being out of reach and every time he was with her he felt like the luckiest dumbass on the planet, whether they were doing something together or just existing near each other as they did their own thing. 
 Or making out. Oh Marinette was a fantastic kisser, sweet and attentive and exciting, tuned in to his every reaction. The height difference took some getting used to, but before long he found that he loved the way she fitted against him, the way he could curl around her, how small her hands were in his, how big his own looked on her hips or her back. She had learned impressively quickly how to tempt him into taking charge or reduce him to a pile of goo. And she made the best sounds when he returned the favor.
Focus, Luka , he told himself as he opened the door to the bakery. He’d already been on the receiving end of one gentle, if mildly embarrassing, reminder from her mother that Marinette was eighteen and could make her own choices, but that she was still younger than him and he should be cautious about pushing her into things she might not be ready for. Sabine had been so mild about it that Luka couldn’t really feel insulted, though Marinette would probably be mortified if she knew her mother had said any such thing to him. 
Still. Better not to have those kinds of thoughts in his mind just now. Luka always came into the house through the bakery so that they knew he was there, mostly as a courtesy (and partly so they would know to knock before barging into Marinette’s room). He greeted Sabine and waved at Tom in the back, then went on up the stairs.
Luka knocked on the apartment door but went ahead and let himself in, not expecting her to hear him if she was up in her room. 
Marinette wasn’t in her room, as it turned out, but in the kitchen, singing to herself as she flitted back and forth in the small space. She waved at him and he grinned, setting his bag down on the couch and coming over to her. “You came,” she smiled, stretching up on her toes as he leaned down to meet her for a quick kiss.
“You asked me to,” he pointed out, choking back a laugh at the memory of Juleka’s teasing. 
Marinette ignored him, and Luka waited until she had set down whatever mysterious baking implements she was holding before catching her wrist and pulling her close. Marinette hummed happily as he leaned down to kiss her more fully, resting her forearms on his shoulders but keeping her flour-covered hands away from him. 
Not that he would have cared. He was more than happy to let her cover him in flour paste if it meant she was holding him. This was good enough for now, though, as long as her plush lips were under his. She’d clearly been nibbling on whatever she was making and she tasted amazing. 
Marinette pulled back a little when he tried to press close to her. “Don’t, I’m dirty,” she whispered, and Luka couldn’t help laughing even as a twinge of heat shot through him. Marinette backed away from him and raised an eyebrow. 
“Sorry,” he grinned at her. “Juleka was picking on me before I left and it’s got my mind in the gutter.” 
Marinette’s eyes widened slightly and then she blushed and pouted as she thought back to what she’d said. “Juleka should keep her mouth shut,” she grumbled, turning away from him to wash her hands. 
“I couldn’t agree more,” Luka chuckled, putting his hands on her hips and stepping up so her back, which was mostly clean, was against his chest. “Why are you stress baking?” he asked, and leaned down to trail kisses along the side of her neck.
“What makes you think I’m stress b-baking?” she asked, tilting her head, breath hitching slightly as she reached blindly for a towel that was well out of her reach. 
“Mmm.” Luka reached out and snagged the towel off of the oven handle easily, putting it in her hand. Then he lifted his face and looked pointedly at the mess around them, and then back down at her. “When you’re baking from a project, you’re super organized and everything is set out carefully. You only make this kind of a mess—” He gestured down at the pile of baking dishes in the sink and then at the haphazard collection of ingredients crowded on the small counter. “—when you’re stress baking.” He returned to her neck, pressing a kiss to the hinge of her jaw. “So tell me why you’re stressed, and how I can help make it better.” 
Marinette huffed and shoved an elbow back into him. “It’s your fault to begin with,” she muttered, and Luka straightened immediately, frowning. 
“Me?” 
Marinette sighed. “Yeah, I—” She blew out a sigh and pulled away from him, turning around to face him. “I just, I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“That sounds ominous,” Luka said slowly, shifting back a little.
Marinette put her hands over her face and made a frustrated noise. “No, it’s not that bad, I’m—I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”
Luka coughed to cover the laugh that he couldn’t quite keep in, and it was a supreme act of will to say nothing.
Marinette dropped her hands and glared at him, clearly knowing what he was thinking, and reached back to untie her apron with quick, decisive movements (which shouldn’t have affected him the way it did, damnit Juleka). Once it was off, she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the kitchen behind her. “Shouldn’t we clean up?” he asked, glancing back with concern. 
“We’ll do it later,” Marinette said. 
“But your baking—” 
“I just put the dough in the fridge to chill, it’s fine,” she said, pulling him up the stairs to her room. 
Luka couldn’t say he hated where this was going but he was pretty confused. He followed Marinette up into her room, where she let go of his hand and kept walking. Taking that as his cue to stay put, Luka shut the trapdoor gently behind them and nudged the lock into place with his foot. Just in case.
“Well. I, um...I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this,” Marinette was saying, bending over a large chest in the corner of her room to get at something behind it, and Luka had to look at the floor. “And I want you to know I had nothing to do with it—well, I mean not nothing, because I did tell Jagged something about what happened with, you know, before, with XY and how he stole your music, but I didn’t use any names and I kept everything really general, it’s just I was thinking about it while I was working on his fitting and I guess I was making a mad face and he wanted to know what I was thinking about and, well I know it’s not my story to tell so I—but Jagged is so—so—” she paused, making a grunt of effort as she hauled something up and over the chest. 
“Okay, I only followed about half of that,” Luka said as evenly as he could, glancing up from his determined study of the toes of his boots just as Marinette turned to him, both hands wrapped around the handle of a heavy black case that was...very familiar in shape.
Luka looked from the guitar case in her hands to her face, uncomprehending. Marinette shrugged, and bit her lip, shuffling across the floor towards him. “It’s for you. From Jagged. Take it,” she muttered, blushing. 
That stunned him speechless. Luka took the case from her on autopilot, crossing the room to lay it on the chaise and flip up the latches as Marinette began babbling again, insisting that she didn’t deserve the credit (or the blame) for this, and then he opened the case lid and felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
Marinette shoved a chair under him just in time as his knees went weak and he sat down, bringing one hand to cover his mouth as he stared down at the sleek professional quality acoustic guitar in front of him. It was black, with Jagged Stone’s logo emblazoned off-center on the lower half in purple.
“It’s from the new line he’s sponsoring,” Marinette said uncomfortably, shifting her feet. “Not released yet,” she added quickly, before he could gather his wits enough to question her. “They sent it to him to demo and approve, and well...once he played it and decided it was good enough he gave it to me, to give to you. He said a pro should have both kinds. Which is weird, really, because I’ve never seen him play anything but an electric, but...” She cringed as Luka’s fingers hovered over the unmistakable signature scrawled up one side in some kind of glitter ink. “He insisted on signing it. I hope that’s okay.” She reached forward and plucked a note tucked into a pocket of the case and handed it to him.
Luka took it absently, still staring. He touched the guitar lightly, taking in the silky texture of the finish and the quality of the wood, the elegant shape, the gleaming hardware. It was beautiful. He loved Claire, he really did, but sometimes you needed a different sound for different songs— 
His brain screeched to a halt. A different sound. A different sound.
Marinette nudged him, startling him out of his thoughts. He unfolded the note. 
Hey kid, he read, I heard your story. Wanna be’s always hate the real deal, and you’re it. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to keep things to yourself for a while, but I’d love to hear what those songs were meant to sound like before that baby-faced nobody murdered them. If you’ve got more to share, Marinette’s got my number. 
Rock ‘n roll!
Jagged Stone
P.S. Fuck with my girl and I’ll stick this guitar where the sun don’t shine, and that’s just for starters. 
He looked up at Marinette, and she fidgeted. “You don’t have to take it,” she said weakly. 
There were about a thousand things he could have said at that moment, but what came out was, “Is this why you asked me not to bring Claire?”
Marinette shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I didn’t know if she was the jealous type.”
Luka chuckled. Marinette always seemed fondly exasperated with his tendency to anthropomorphize his instruments, skeptical but indulgent, willing to play along without actually trying to compete with an inanimate object (one of Casey’s more annoying habits). 
“So...is it okay? You’re not...mad?” she asked, and Luka laughed weakly.
“I’m not mad,” he said, leaning back and reaching for her. She let him pull her over and sit her on his knee. “It’s amazing, Marinette, really.” He squeezed her, and trying hard not to sound like a total fanboy, asked, “Jagged really played it himself?”
“He did,” Marinette confirmed. “For over an hour. First time I’ve ever heard him play an acoustic, actually.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda sorry I missed that,” he said, leaning into her as she put her arms around him. “Jagged Stone.” He looked at the paper in his hand and shook his head slightly. “He wants to hear my music? Wow, Marinette, this is just...I’m speechless.”
“I told you, I didn’t do anything,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his neck. “I shouldn’t even have said anything to him without your permission, I just...I was distracted fitting the jacket, and I didn’t even realize I’d said it until he screamed ‘I knew that little shit didn’t have that kind of talent!’ and I nearly jumped out of my skin.” 
Luka laughed and kissed her hair, and he felt her lips curve against his skin. “Did he really say that?” 
“Mmhm,” she said, responding to his nudges against her temple by lifting her face so he could kiss her. He took his time about it, savoring her soft lips and the smooth, soft skin under his thumb as he stroked her cheek. Marinette’s hands slipped under his hoodie and he gladly shifted so she could push it down his arms and off, feeling more than a little warm as it was. His hand went to her waist instead of her face, slipping under her shirt to settle against her abs where he could feel the rippling muscle beneath the slight softness as she moved. He didn’t even know that was a thing for him until he met Marinette and now he couldn’t get enough of it. It was just more luck for him that she liked his rough hands against her skin. Her hands slid up and down his chest and over his shoulders and arms and he pressed into her touch with a little moan.
Luka loved that she understood that about him, how much he craved the connection of touch. Even before they were together, it had been a struggle to keep his hands to himself as they grew closer. The night of the party, up on the roof, he’d been so lost in a confusing whirl of emotion that he nearly felt sick, and her small, strong arms around him had grounded him, soothed him, without him even having to ask. She’d been amazing that night, beautiful and fun and temptation itself as they danced, and fire and fury as she defended him and Juleka both, and gentle and comforting when he needed her. 
Somewhere in that confusing ball of emotion it had suddenly dawned on him, with the clarity and sharpness of cut glass, that he would be an idiot to let her go, if she still wanted him. He was so lucky that she’d waited for him, that she’d had the patience to let him go and settle things with Casey, that she’d decided he was worth steeling her courage and facing up to the memory of whatever idiot had hurt her in the past. It was hard, waiting that last week, unsure and nervous but choosing to trust her, and choosing to trust his own instincts again—instincts that were telling him whatever you do, don’t let this one go. But she’d waited on him for far longer, so he could hardly refuse to wait for her. And it was...so worth it.
He was so, so lucky. 
“So, are you going to try it out?” Marinette asked, bringing him back to the moment. Her hands were still flexing against him and she was kiss-bruised and ruffled and breathless and God he had never been less interested in a new guitar, he was so stupid for her, he half-expected violins and rose petals and fucking rainbows and unicorns every time they were together. She blinked slowly, smile shifting into a smirk, and Luka swallowed hard. 
Focus.
“Only if you get off my lap,” he told her, voice a little rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat as Marinette giggled and slid off his knee. 
“What are you going to call this one?” Marinette asked, amusement plain in her face.
“I don’t know,” Luka said, lifting the guitar out of the case. He noticed with amusement the strap, and glanced knowingly up at Marinette. She blushed and shrugged, looking away.
“It had that skinny kind you don’t like,” she mumbled, “So I made a new one.” 
“I love it,” Luka grinned, unreasonably pleased by her fancy signature in gold embroidery on the inside of the strap. It took him a moment to get his stupid grin under control and slip the strap over his shoulder. 
He ran long fingers over the neck and body lightly. “I have to get to know them before I can name them,” he continued. Luka set his fingers and then strummed slowly down the strings, but he winced at the sound. He worked on the tuning, noting the silky feel of the wood under his hands, the way he hardly had to adjust his hands at all, like the guitar had been made for him. When the strings were in tune he strummed slowly down them again, and this time the sound was…
His pulse increased, and he glanced up at Marinette. “I’ve been working on something,” he said. “I wanted you to hear it, but it wasn’t quite right. I think I’d like to try it now, if that’s okay.”  
“Oh,” Marinette blinked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Of course.”
Luka moved the guitar case and slid onto the chaise, patting the spot next to him. Marinette sat down, fidgeting with her fingers and watching him with gratifying anticipation. It always gave him a thrill, to see how eager she was to hear him play.
Luka set his fingers on the fretboard again, took a settling breath, and played the song he’d been crafting and refining in his mind since the day she came to practice at the boat. 
Marinette gasped quietly, and laid her hand over her heart, closing her eyes. Luka let his own lids fall as he played, though the instrument wasn’t quite familiar enough yet for him to close them all the way. 
He knew as soon as he began that he wasn’t wrong, that this was what he’d been missing and trying to find all this time. The melody was just right, but the sound had been off. Ladybug might be the jangling twang and sassy attitude of the electric, flashy and exciting, but Marinette...Marinette was the mellow, sweet sound of the acoustic, authentic and sincere. Simple, but quality, resonating with craftsmanship and passion and warmth. He took a shaky breath as he listened to the last chord resonate and fade away, and then lifted his eyes to hers.  
She swallowed at the look he was giving her, and then whispered, “How was it?” 
“Perfect,” he breathed, gazing at her with all the wonder and love she inspired in him. “Absolutely perfect.” 
“Great,” she said breathlessly. “Now put it down.” 
Luka did, setting it carefully in its case, and before he’d even straightened up all the way Marinette was crawling onto him. She straddled his lap and took his face in her hands, as she kissed him hard, drawing an answering passion from him. Luka wrapped his arms around her, drawing her as close as he could get her, overwhelmed and overflowing with feelings he couldn’t contain or ignore. 
He wanted to be sure she understood, though. He’d been told before that some things had to be said out loud, and Luka didn’t want to mess this up. 
“Hey,” he mumbled, as soon as he had space to, but Marinette was kissing him again before he could get any more out. She made an inquisitive noise, moving her kisses to his jaw so he could speak, but Luka pulled back gently, just enough to be able to look her in the eye—in those beautiful, breathtaking eyes, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. “I love you,” he breathed, and Marinette’s smile shone like the sun.
“I know, silly,” she said, rubbing her nose along his, and then she nodded at the guitar. “I heard you the first time.”
He felt the slow, stupid grin spreading across his face. 
It made Marinette blush from her collar to her hairline, and she kissed him again fiercely. “I can’t say it as beautifully as you did,” she whispered against his lips, “But I love you too.” Then she yelped as Luka moved suddenly, dumping her off his lap back onto the chaise. Marinette moved back against the arm, shifting to accommodate him automatically as he crawled over her; by now they had plenty of practice arranging themselves in the small space.
“Is this all right?” Luka asked, even as she was running her hands appreciatively over his arms braced on either side of her.
“It’s perfect,” she sighed, leaning up to meet him as he kissed her, intent on showing her just how lucky he felt to know her, to hold her, to love her.
It was totally worth the lecture they got from Tom for leaving a mess in the kitchen.
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leverage-ot3 · 4 years
Text
notable moments from The Jailhouse Job
leverage 3.01
I love how they opened up s3 with all of their “codenames”/job titles
- - - - -
Hardison: Cameras are watching yesterday's footage. Locking down... which elevator?
[Elevator Shaft]
Parker: Huh? What? Oh, um, um, yes, I-I'm a go for elevator one.
[Courthouse Hallway]
Hardison: Were you asleep?
[Elevator Shaft]
Parker: It's very peaceful up here. Besides, I sleep better upside down.
(Parker is wearing her rigs, hanging upside down, elevator rises)
I adore her, okay + SHE SLEEPS BETTER UPSIDE DOWN ??? !!!
- - - - -
(Nate walks into the elevator with two men, one armed, the other the one whose gun Sophie stole. Parker jumps on the top of the elevator, opens it, and tasers both men before picking the lock on Nate’s cuffs)
Nate: You know, you could have just taken the keys off the guy's belt.
Parker: Eh, this is faster.
parker LOVES tasering people + it’s faster for her to pick a lock than to look for keys
- - - - -
(Hardison is walking along the sidewalk checking his phone, setting off car alarms)
Guard: What the hell?
(the guards at the door go to check, and Eliot disarms them, knocking one into traffic. Sophie pulls up in a car and just as Nate and Parker exit the building)
eliot’s F A C E when he accidentally makes the guy get hit by a car LMFAO
- - - - -
when it goes from “nate’s apartment” to “leverage hq”
- - - - -
Eliot: Spanish soap opera.
Hardison: Oh, yeah. Check it out, man. Look, it turns out Pepe's twin brother Peppi is actually Guadalupe's baby's daddy.
Eliot: Seriously?
headcanon: hardison and eliot were watching it earlier and eliot says “really” because god spanish soap operas are so dramatic
- - - - -
(Parker comes in with a bag over her shoulder)
Eliot: He doesn’t want to do it.
Parker: Oh, but I love jumping on elevators.
Hardison: I know.
Parker: This is my special elevator rig he got me for Christmas
we LOVE to see that nate (and sophie ?) get their children presents for christmas
- - - - -
Eliot: All right, look, Nate, you took the fall for us, so...
Hardison: After you lied to us. He's a liar.
Eliot: You took the fall for us. You went to jail so we wouldn't have to. We get that, so we're square. But now you got to let us get you out of prison.
Parker: But if we're gonna do that...
Hardison: And not all of us are convinced that we should.
Parker: Then we have to hit you at your next hearing. That prison's escape-proof.
Nate: Guys, no.
hardison is salty but eliot forgives him for the most part
+
I love it when the ot3 sits together
(also I take note when they’re in the same frame in these posts in case I (or anyone else) wants to reference when they are together for gif and or fanvid purposes)
- - - - -
Nate: I committed a crime, I got caught, and now I am gonna serve my time.
Sophie: Nate, what kind of world would it be if everybody that committed a silly little crime went to prison, huh? Complete madness. (Parker scoffs, Hardison makes an incredulous gesture with his hands)
- - - - -
Hardison: Okay, you know... You know what? Fine, Nate.
[Leverage HQ]
Hardison: We're still out here. We're doing the job. We help people nobody else helps. That's important. You want to stay around and miss out just because you got to figure out your guilty conscience, that's your loss.
Nate: Yeah, Hardison, I wa...
(Hardison severs the connection)
- - - - -
Worth: I am not a warden. I am CEO of National Prison Properties. I built this company, five prisons, from the ground up.
(The Italian laughs and lights a lighter)
Italian: Impressive. (lights a cigarette) You know what they say... That Rome was not built in a single day. But it burned in one. (blows out the lighter)
BADASS
- - - - -
(Billy pushes a cart of books through the room)
Billy (to Nate): Hey.
Nate: Hey.
Billy: Seamus Heaney. That Irish guy you asked for. (hands him a book)
Nate: Oh, excellent. Wow, thanks... Billy, right?
Billy: Uh, yeah.
Nate: Well, thank you. This could not have been easy to find.
Billy: Well, you seemed pretty down. And we got to stand up for each other, right?
Nate: Yeah. You're all right, Billy.
Billy: Yeah. Wish the judge thought so. (pushes cart away)
Nate: Yeah, I appreciate it
- - - - -
(Nate watches as Billy leaves the room, followed by some tough looking inmates)
Nate: I think something's happening.
Bellows: Thanks for your input. You can move on now.
(Nate follows them out of the common area)
prisons are the fucking worst but PRIVATE PRISONS are double that and john rogers agrees and that’s yet another reason why I love him
- - - - -
hardison tried taking up making a model helicopter in his spare time. cute
+ hardison likes to use the word hinky
- - - - -
Nate (puts hand on Billy’s shoulder): I'm sorry.
Billy: For what?
(Nate stabs Billy in the side)
Billy: Oh, sh...
(Billy falls to the floor, holding his side)
Nate: Oh. Uh, Hardison, why don't you gather the team and get me background checks on the... on the warden?
Billy: You stabbed me!
Nate: Oh, come on, just... just a little. It's... it's fine
this is the same as the “lightly stabbed” meme
- - - - -
Worth: The US has the fastest growing prison population in the world. Well, it's like the real-estate boom.
(Hardison plugs a flash drive into Worth’s computer)
Worth: Except, of course, the problem with real estate... You eventually run out of land. You never run out of people to put in prison.
Hardison: Hmm. We haven't had much success with private prisons concept in England. Our investment firm has large real-estate holdings for construction of facilities.
Worth: You see, any yahoo can lay some concrete and throw up some razor wire. The profit comes in proper management.
(Hardison looks at his phone, which is accessing Worth’s computer)
Worth: For example, the big money for us is in prison labor.
Hardison: Sorry?
Worth: Goods and services made by prisoners in America. $2 billion a year. One out of every five office chairs and desks "Made in America", made by convicts. And those jobs are not going to the Chinese. Bottom's up
john rogers was calling this bullshit out in like 2010 and still NOBODY LISTENS
- - - - -
(two guards are standing outside the room Billy and Nate are in)
Billy: Man, is this really the best plan?
Nate: Listen, the infirmary's under lockdown. There's cameras on both sides of the door, extra guards because of the pharmaceuticals. It's the safest place in the prison, really
- - - - -
Eliot (to guard): Abernathy, MD.
eliot still uses this alias that he picked up for The Rashomon Job
- - - - -
Eliot: We can just... well, you know what? It's fine. Just right in here, sir. And please have a seat.
(Nate sits in the chair and Eliot lays it back)
Eliot: It's just in case the guards come in. (buckles restraints on Nate’s wrists) Restraints. Here's an infirmary manual. (turns the light on Nate’s face and picks up a drill)
Nate: That's, uh, for the... for the guards, right?
Eliot: You know what I usually do, Nate, to people that run a con on their own team? Almost get people killed 'cause they're out of control?
Nate: Are we okay, Eliot?
(Eliot puts down the drill and plugs in a flash drive, typing on the keyboard. Images come up on the monitor)
eliot is mostly over it but would he ever give up a chance to fuck with him? nope.
- - - - -
[Judge’s Office]
Sophie: Key card and checkbook.
Parker: Keys and appointment book. Ooh, and this? (holds up keys) Safe deposit box key.
Sophie: Ooh, I love a secret.
(Sophie sits down at desk while Parker gets started on the safe)
COMPETENT WOMEN
- - - - -
Hardison: Yeah. See, Rockford can't drop below 70% occupancy. If they do, they lose their state funding. No state money, they close. And they came very close two years ago.
[Nate’s Cell]
Nate: Hmm. So, private prisons are like the hotel business. They live and die on occupancy, head count. Now, Worth wasn't gonna lose $100 million in profit just 'cause he didn't have enough hard-cases to fill the prison, so he puts a few judges on the arm to send him non-violent offenders, easy prisoners to supervise.
[Leverage HQ]
Parker: Yeah, but why these people?
Eliot: Because they're citizens. 'Cause they're honest, middle-class citizens. These are the people, they don't want to cause any trouble. They can't afford a lawyer, so if some judge sends them away, well, yes, sir. They were taught to trust the courts. They believe in the system
- - - - -
[Leverage HQ]
(Parker wearing a robe standing in front of a green screen, trying to pose. At one point she does a duck face.)
Sophie: You remember what I showed you. Just try some different-different shapes and-and-and that pout that we talked about. Ohh, no, not that one. (to Hardison) I didn't show her that.
Sophie: Kind of... just, you know, just relax. Try one up, one down. Maybe... So...
(Parker continues to pose)
Sophie: Ooh, yeah. Shoot that.
(Hardison snaps photos)
Sophie: Ooh, I like that. That's gonna work.
(Sophie uses the remote to place Parker into a photo of Worth)
Sophie: Okay. Yes.
Hardison: Looks good.
Sophie: I can work with that.
(Parker drops her clothes to the floor)
Hardison: Whoa. Oh! Whoa.
Sophie: Parker!
Hardison: Why am I looking away
this scene is iconic lmfao
also hardison you’re not looking because you’re a goddamn GENTLEMAN and we love you for it
+ she takes off all her clothes and puts on a baret LMFAO
- - - - -
parker and hardison smiling at each other as they map out the prison
+
THEY CLASP HANDS HAPPILY
- - - - -
Parker: Who's Sophie?
Hardison: You remember, we're not supposed to use her real name with, uh...
Parker: Right, Nate hasn't earned it yet. Forgot. Sophie. Sophie. So-phie. So-o-o-phie. Sophie. S-s-s-sophie. Sophie
we love parker trying to act cool and normal and fumble about it. she’s baby
- - - - -
Eliot: All right, we cut that wire.
Hardison: No. No, look, once a lockdown is called, all these sensors go hot and those door bolts drop into place.
Parker: I got it! The furnace room. There's no sensors because it's too hot. They crawl straight down along the heating pipes until they reach the sewage system. Ha ha!
[Prison Common Area]
Nate: Now, Parker, it's a 150 degrees in there.
[Leverage HQ]
Parker: The average human can withstand that for 27 seconds.
(Hardison and Eliot look away)
Parker: What? Come on
the ot3 is trying your honor
also parker is adorable playing with the model helicopter remote while laying down on the table
- - - - -
Worth: Then fire them. What's the use of being non-union if I can't fire people?
GROSS
- - - - -
Nate: Parker, please tell me you're at Hardison's new van.
[Exterior Prison]
Parker: Yeah, it's really nice.
[Prison Common Area]
Nate: Did you bring it?
[Exterior Prison]
Parker: Wait, are we doing that now?
[Prison Common Area]
Nate: Yeah, we're gonna breaking out right now.
[Exterior Prison]
Parker: Yes! (gets into van)
SHES SO EXCITED + she likes the new van!!!
- - - - -
Nate: A little sloppy.
Eliot: New glasses. (takes them off and looks at them)
OKAY SO DOES HE NEED GLASSES OR NOT ???
also he did the lil flip thing with the security guard nightstick
- - - - -
Computer: Lockdown.
Nate: Okay. (pushes door open and holds up a folded piece of paper) Newspaper folded eight times can support a ton of weight. Come on.
(they head down the hall)
- - - - -
Sophie: Motion sensor. Nate.
Nate: Steam's filling up now.
[Prison Kitchen]
(Nate walks slowly toward exit)
Nate: Motion sensor beat.
[Freezer]
(Nate enters and grabs a plastic bag, draping it around him)
[Leverage HQ]
Sophie: Breathe.
[Prison Mechanical Room]
(Nate pushes out a grate and enters the room, the bag covered in ice)
Nate: And heat sensor cleared. Last stop.
(throws off bag and exits the room)
- - - - -
parker was having so much fun with the model helicopter I love it
- - - - -
Hardison: You, yeah. Ha. See, I like this. I like when we pretend to kiss.
Parker: "Pretend"?
Hardison: Heeeey
- - - - -
Nate: What about my team?
Italian: They lead dangerous lives. Thieves die all the time.
Nate (steps close to her): Now that you should not have said.
Italian: I don't know. You seem highly motivated. (walks away)
- - - - -
Sophie: Damien Moreau? Are you out of your mind? Nobody touches Moreau!
Hardison: Nate, Moreau finances the Sicilians, the Russian mafia, the Colombian cartels.
Eliot: Yeah, he moves money for the North Koreans, stolen artifacts for Iraq, nuclear materials for Iran.
Hardison: Moreau is The Big Bad. He is the central bank for international crime.
Parker: N-nate, these files are CIA, FBI, Mossad, Japanese Security
poor eliot this season is gonna be Rough™ for him :(
- - - - -
Sophie: She's blackmailing us?
Nate: She's... she's... she's sort of... Yeah. Yeah.
Parker: Sucks to be on the wrong side of that, finally.
- - - - -
Eliot: We can't go straight at a guy like Moreau. They'll vaporize us.
ELIOT was the one that finally gave in and gave up some information on how to go at this. eliot. because he knows moreau. he knows how that man works. so he knows he has to be the one to start the conversation, even though he hates it with every fiber of his being.
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