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#now to figure out where i was supposed to go with it
bitchesuntitled · 1 day
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Wrong Delivery
Summary: Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...
Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI go on get! No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv(don't do that, make smart choices), cream pie, Joel being a dork.
A/N: First time I've ever actually finished a Joel story I started working on! Many thanks to @strang3lov3 for the encouragement and taking a look at this, @jay-zzle as always for giving me ideas and making moodboards for me because I hate doing them myself! ❤️❤️❤️
🌹This is for @morallyinept’s flora & fauna challenge! 🌹
Divider provided by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist||AO3 Link
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As you rush into the building, trying to avoid the construction team surrounding the place, a timid smile crosses your face when you spot Joel, the man responsible for why you’re running late this morning. Instead of getting ready for work like you were supposed to, Joel Miller decided he wanted to spend his morning coaxing another orgasm out of you, as if the three last night weren’t enough. It’s been a couple of months of this. 
It had never been your intention to start sleeping with the hot contractor who had been doing construction at your place of work, you both just happened to be at the same bar one night. One thing led to another and now it’s been this, whatever this is.
“Mornin’ guys,” you say passing the crew, each giving their own sort of greeting back, be it a grunt of acknowledgment or repeating the greeting.
“Mornin’ ma’am,” Joel says with a cheeky smile, “Runnin’ a little late?”
“Yeah, woke up late,” you shrugged, feeling your face heat up.
“There you are!” Becky shouts, making her way towards you, “Angie is up my ass right now about where you are with those reports you said you’d get done yesterday.”
“On it,” you sigh, “Nice talking to you Joel.”
“Oh!” Becky said with a smile, grabbing his bicep, “Hi Joel! You guys sure have been working hard on all of this.”
You try to keep your eyes from rolling at Becky’s consistent attempt at flirting with Joel. She has definitely tried her hardest to get his attention, made cookies “for the crew” but only handed some of them to Joel, tries to talk to him every chance she can, wearing lower cut tops so her cleavage is on full display, batting eyelashes and laughing at any dumb thing he says. It’s starting to get on your nerves, if you’re being honest. Making your way to your desk you open the drawer, shoving your purse inside before closing it and turning on your computer. You open the teams app, sending Angie a quick message to let her know you’ll put the file with the reports in the folder outside her door, grabbing the file and making your way to her office.
Becky is still talking Joel’s ear off and you have to stifle your laugh, watching his eyebrows scrunch together and his polite nod before excusing himself. She catches you as you're on your way back to your cubicle to start the work day.
“That Joel Miller is a man,” Becky sighs, walking beside you, “The things I would let him do to me.”
“Oh jeez,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk.
“I wonder what his dick is like,” she continues, “I bet it’s big.”
You turn to your computer hoping she can’t see the look on your face because then the jig would be up.
“Uhm,” you say, clearing your throat, “You better be careful. Don’t wanna get turned into HR.”
“Hello,” a frazzled delivery guy announces himself at the entrance to your cubicle. “I have a delivery for you, miss.”
“For me?!” Becky asks excitedly, seeing the bouquet of flowers. The delivery guy nodded, handing her the flowers. “Who are they from?!”
“Uh… Joel Miller?” The guy says, looking at his sheet. Your jaw drops upon hearing his words. Why on earth would Joel send Becky flowers?
“Oh my god!” Becky squeals with delight, grabbing the card, “Aw! Look! It says darlin’ on the envelope!”
Becky opens the card, reading it aloud:
“Figured a pretty lady like you should have some flowers to look at. Been havin’ the time of my life gettin’ to know ya and would love to take you out. He signed it off with a heart and J. Miller! How sweet is that?!”
Beside yourself on handling this, the only thing you could think of was finding the man himself. If this entire thing between you two was just for fun so be it, but you needed answers.
“Real sweet,” you mutter standing up, “I’m…  uh… I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” Becky hums dreamily, staring at the flowers on her desk.
You make your way to the front of the building, spotting Gus, one of the construction guys.
“Can you tell Joel I need to talk to him?”
“Sorry ma’am, he had to leave earlier, something about Tommy.” Gus shrugs. 
“Uhm… okay.” You nod, deciding to make your way to the breakroom, sitting at one of the tables trying to collect your thoughts. Maybe it’s for the best that he left. That way the entire building wouldn’t see you blow up. Are you even still supposed to see each other tonight? That had been the plan when he left this morning. What the actual fuck, you think to yourself, give annoying ass Becky flowers to ask her out, and then fuck you? That two-timing son of a bitch!
“So fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.
You make it through the workday, as best as you can, trying not to think of Joel and how mad you are all while Becky continues to talk about him all day. What should she wear, wondering where he’d take her, what they would do, should she sleep with him on the first date. Hopefully, the Excedrin will kick in soon to help with the teeth grinding headache you’ve had all day. Walking to your car Becky’s shrill voice rings out wishing you a good evening.
“Yeah, you too,” you grumble, pulling your car door open and throwing your purse inside. You’re still so mad, fuming, seeing red as you drive towards your place. Once getting home, you quickly change into comfy clothes, and see you have a text from Joel.
JMiller: Can’t wait to see you beautiful ;) Leavin’ Tommy’s
You scowl looking at the text. How do you even respond to that? Petty, that’s how.
You: K.
You see the text bubbles pop up, disappear then pop up again before his face shows on your screen with an incoming call.
“Hello,” you snap.
“Hey,” Joel says hesitatingly, “Bad day at work?”
“Well, Becky got some lovely flowers delivered at work.”
“Oh?”
“Yep,” you say with a harsh pop at the end.
“And?” Joel asks, “Is that it?”
“Delivery guy and card said they were from you.”
“Fuck me,” Joel groans “Those were not for goddamn Becky!”
“Sure about that?”
“I got them for you.” Joel argues.
“Yeah, okay.” You huff into the receiver, rolling your eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s fine if you didn’t want this going anywhere but you could’ve been honest with me about it.”
“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groans, “I do want this going somewhere! Like I said, the flowers were for you!”
“Sure,” you say, shaking your head, “Just be honest, Joel. This has just been fun, that’s it. You’re getting your dick wet, stringing me al—“
“God damn it! I am telling the truth!” Joel growls, cutting you off. “I even have proof!”
“What proof?!” You spit back, “The proof of the flowers you sent Becky? Yeah, I saw them, and the card too. Sweet touch signing it off with a heart and then your name.”
Suddenly there is a knock on your door. You cock your head to the side, hearing the knock sound through the phone as well. Of fucking course, Tommy’s is a five minute drive to your place, making your way to the door you swing it open to see Joel standing there. His nostrils flared, phone held up to his ear, dropping it and angrily stuffing it back into his pocket.
“Just give me five minutes, I swear, they were meant for you and I have fuckin’ proof,” Joel says, holding up a piece of paper.
“What the fuck, Joel?” You groan, smacking your phone onto the entry table.  “Why are you here?”
“I was on my way home from Tommy’s. Figure I’d come here first,” Joel says, holding the paper out to you, “Go on, look at it.”
You grab it, glancing it over. Farrah’s Flowers printed at the top, with your name listed as the order’s recipient, eyes bulging out of your head as you look at him.
“Told you.”
“Wait, then how the fuck did they get to Becky then?”
“Somebody fucked up, that’s all I know but that is my copy of the receipt for buyin’ them in the first place, and that is your name on it,” Joel smirks in triumph, crossing his arms across his broad chest.
Your shoulders relax as you open the door wider, motioning your head for him to come in. He gives a subtle nod, making his way into your home, you slump against the door once it’s closed.
“Joel,” you start, “What the fuck are we?”
He cages you against the door, pushing his lower half into you. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck, looking at those dark chocolate eyes.
“Well,” Joel says, kissing your cheek, “I want you,” placing a soft kiss against your lips, “More than just for sex,” he whispers, against your lips breathing in each other's air causing you to feel a dizzying arousal. Lips collide with him in a hungry kiss, tongues rolling against one another, gasping when his hands creep down to hook around your thighs lifting you, grabbing onto your ass before pulling you away from the door and carrying you to your bedroom.
Joel lays you down on your bed hovering over you, never breaking away from your lips, licking into your mouth with desperation like this might be his last chance. Arousal begins pool in your underwear. Hands gliding down his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him, lifting the bottom of his shirt until he finally lifts to fling it off.
“Don’t want anyone else,” Joel husks, lightly biting your neck, causing you to moan at the sensation of his teeth against your skin, “Just you.”
“Joel,” you whimper as his hand travels down the length of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your tits, ducking his head down. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before switching to give the other equal attention, kissing a trail down the soft flesh of your stomach until he reaches the top of your leggings.
“Can I?” He asks, looking at you, fingers hooking into your waistband. You give a firm nod and he pulls them off along with your underwear. He sighs once they are off, using his shoulders to spread your legs further apart, “So fucking pretty,” he hums, nipping and kissing along your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.
You can feel his breath against your folds, trembling with anticipation for his tongue and lips to make contact, letting out a soft moan Joel begins lapping at your folds, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Tongue massaging circles against your clit.
“Fuck,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging.
Joel’s hum reverberated into your core. His mouth opened and he began to fuck you with his tongue while firmly holding your gaze. You’re back arched at the sensation, letting out a gasp. You roll your hips against his face, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. He grunts, moving his thumbs to spread your lips, licking a stripe up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Your legs begin to shake at the sensation.
“Oh my god, Joel!” You whine, arching your back, feeling the band tightening within your core, begging for release. Joel sinks two of his thick fingers into you causing you to cry out, moving them to massage that sweet spot against your walls, “Yes! Oh my god, fuck!” You could feel the smug smirk on his face, knowing you’re about to come.
“Come on,” he coos, firmly licking your bundle of nerves “Let me have it baby.”
You cry his name out over and over as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing through you. He continues lapping at your folds, wanting to make sure he gets every last drop before you push his head away. He crawls up the length of your body, the denim of his jeans scratching against your skin.
“Good?” He asks, you nod giggling and he smirks, grabbing the nape of his neck you pull him closer to your face, looking into your eyes he whispers a hi. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, surging forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into your mouth, grinding his bulge against your center, the rough denim providing friction against your core. His hand moves to his belt, swiftly unhooking it and unbuttoning his jeans. Hands sliding down to help him push the denim off his hips, boxers following suit. You grip his hard length, stroking it from tip to base. Palm spreading the precome over his long thick length. Joel lets out a soft moan at the touch.
“Want you inside me,” you whimper, rubbing his cock against your slick heat. “Please.”
He bats your hand away, grabbing his cock to tease your folds more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You let out a moan when his tip catches against your entrance. Only for him to slide back up to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against you.
“Joel,” you begged, titling your pelvis, “Please, please fuck me.”
Joel smirks, sliding his cock back down to your entrance, feeding you his bulbous head. You writhe, feeling the stretch. He sinks into you slowly, filling you up until his tip kisses your cervix. Fingers gripping his back, each of you letting out a satisfied moan.
“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse point, letting you adjust to his size, “Best pussy ever,” placing gentle kisses along your jaw.
“Joel, move,” you plead, hitching your legs up on his waist, “Need you to move.”
He pulls out slowly before snapping his length into you again, letting out a shaky breath at the harshness of his thrust. Your grip on his back tightens, sinking your nails into his skin. He lets out a hiss as he rocks his hips into you, trying to find that spot that makes you see stars. 
“Fuck,” he grunted, “Don’t want anyone else, darlin’.”
Breathy moans shared between kisses, sweat slicked skin gliding against each other. He pushes your thighs back further into a mating press, finding that sweet spot inside your walls.
“Oh my god,” you whine, back beginning to arch, “Right there!”
His cock massages that spot with every stroke, causing your muscles to tighten. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening, walls beginning to flutter around his shaft as he drills into that spot over and over.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel growls, feeling the heat of his skin slapping against yours, “I need you to come, baby. Ain’t gonna last much longer.”
You moan wantonly as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. Joel holding out to make sure you come first. The coil in your belly finally snaps, sending you over the edge, white hot electricity flowing through every limb. He thrusts into you harshly half a dozen more times before his hips stutter.
“Only you, darlin’, only want you,” he grunts, as he empties himself inside you, painting your walls with his sticky release, “only want you.”
Joel collapses, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head, nuzzling his nose against yours, placing soft kisses against your lips.
“Only want you,” he sighs.
You spent the next hour, in each other's arms, talking, snuggling and kissing.
“I can’t believe you would think I’d want Becky,” Joel booms with laughter, eyes crinkling around the edges. You smirk playfully, slapping his arm.
“Look,” you giggle, “I didn’t know if her flirting finally wore you down!”
“Hi Joel!” He says in an exaggerated high pitch, batting his eyelashes, “My, you sure have been working hard!” he adds with a girly giggle, lifting his pecs to create some sort of cleavage.
“Oh shut up!”
“Did you see the flowers though? Like actually look at ‘em?”
“Not really,” you sigh, playing with a loose thread on your blanket.
“Purple tulips for new beginnings and love,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “Jasmine for devotion,” he continues, kissing your other cheek, “and pink roses for appreciation,” he smiles before kissing the tip of your nose.
“Really?”
“Yep, the florist helped me pick them out,” Joel says, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss, “Told ya they were for you.”
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beebfreeb · 2 days
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Imagine you are a robot I am disassembling for cleaning and maintenance, but when I finish reassembling you there are 3 extra screws neither of us can figure out where they were originally supposed to go.
Now imagine a soft boiled egg. Salted.
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charliesgoodboy · 2 days
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haiiiii sweetheart :3 how r u doin tonight??
I wanted to request a Tom x fem reader where readers all innocent and small and Tom tries to win her over by fucking her >:3 like imagine a small girl dressed all cutesy in all pastel and then this big strong man just shows up and tries to win her over >.<
it’s fine if you can’t :)
have a great rest of your day / night sweetheart <3
𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐤𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳
a female reader fic❤
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you were so cute.
he loved hanging around you, always looking down at you and taking in your attire and the way you carried about yourself he loved it..loved the way your frilly skirts would fit on your figure, loved the colorful hairclips in your hair, you make up sent him over the edge.
but for the love of all things you were so damn oblivious. how could you just prance around all willy nilly around him like that? bending over so easily, jumping up and down when you got excited..he loved when you were happy, and it made him happy! a little too much..
when you hugged him or hang onto him it was far too much, when you'd stop him in the middle of the street as your eyes beamed at the kittens you saw in the window. "tom! tom, can we get one? please, please, please?" your voice was high which he liked when it got higher when you were excited. your arms pulling him down, and his eyes would wonder to the way your breasts would smoosh together. "uh-huh.." he hadn't even registered he said yes before you were already pulling him into the shop. damn it
not only did he like your make up, but god he loved watching you do it..he didn't wear make up and had zero interest in it but now? now he did. the way your body leaned up on its tip toes to see closer into the mirror as you applied the eye liner, your fingers so smooth as they held the eye liner stick. he wanted nothing more than to fuck it all off of you, to let all the eye liner and pretty pink lip gloss to smear off your face.
he couldn't take it anymore! it was driving him nuts. 'oh he's my friend!' 'oh yeah this is my friend tom! i wanted you to meet him!' he was done with it. "hush babydoll and keep your ass up like i told you." his hips were causing the wet skin slapping, his dick pounding relentlessly into you. you were supposed to be going out with him but you had to choose an outfit you thought was adorable. it was a very pretty pair of shorts that rode up your ass when you did the simplest thing, a thin strap tank top in which made your chest pop out more, and multiple accessories littered across the outfit and your hair.
the spaghetti strap was falling off your shoulders, your fingers gripping on for dear life. your fingernails glistened with the cute soft colors painted with polish. "fuck..thought you could go out dressed like that with me?" what if someone was to try and steal you from him? someone trying to take you away, you were his no one else could just have you.
your cunt was hot and sticky as the feeling of his cock was all that imprented in your mind, you've never felt this before, no ones ever done this to you and it felt so weird! your body has never felt so tingly all over, he was so good with it. his hand would make way to the back of your throat, your eyes rolling back and you looked so lovely..like tom had wanted, your eye make up was running down your face, your lip gloss smeared and your cheeks puffy from tears, you were so cute.
you swore you could see stars and clouds, you felt tom pull out and you finally thought it was all over. but his hand would only reach over as your dumbfouned eyes followed and his hands would open the drawer pulling out a condom packet. "ah..wish you could see your face.." he chuckled as he tore open the top with his teeth. "you thought we were done, huh?"
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!!this was a draft before i changed my blog theme guys!! i have another fic coming soon
@tokio-motel @cherry-rawr @itsmealaiah @evieskiesss @20doozers
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ninyard · 2 days
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Heyy! You said someone should ask you about Kevin under this post about Kevin's struggles from the nest of which we don't know enough... So I'm asking you about Kevin! Please tell us your Kevin thoughts! You always make very good points and I like reading your thoughts!!
cody my friend I am so glad you asked but you might regret it. i hope you're prepared from an unorganised huge convoluted MESS of a ramble
i've been thinking for a few days about this one like... what would a kevin POV look like? what is he hiding? how does he cope? WHO IS HE?
the kevin we ""know"" is a "coward", an insufferable bitch, an asshole and a hardass. other people's opinions and view of him makes up the entirety of our impression of who he is. but that's not who he is. that's just who we're supposed to believe he is.
kevin, born and bred to have this... borderline psychopathic lack of empathy, who can look his teammates in the eye after being told seth is dead or andrew is being committed and say, "what about the game?"
but when the raven's are switching districts; his sense of danger and fear is paralysing. he's three steps ahead trying to figure out how to please riko, how to keep himself safe, willing to put himself back into the centre of his abuse just to stop riko from finding him and killing him. he has to get blackout drunk to deal with any amount of riko. he's frozen with fear by being in the same room as him.
kevin knows where jean's mind and body goes to when hes panicking, knowing his worst place is right back in the nest being drowned by riko. kevin telling neil "do you know what he'll do to you?" and "he'll break you" when neil asks for his ticket. kevin's text to him before he goes into the nest, and staring at neil like he'd seen a ghost when neil returns after the nest (when he looks like the butcher). his comforting "i know what he's like" or "i know how he sees you, i know it means he did not hold back,".
kevin nervous breakdown panic attack day vs kevin smile for the cameras one track exy mind day
im so intrigued by him. how does he cope? his mother is dead, probably killed by the mafia family he was raised by. he grew up into a cult, he was only a child watching neil's father cut a man into pieces in front of him. how many other's had he seen?
how many other injuries cover his body, in places where the cameras can't see? how many rapes and assaults was he forced to watch in the nest? how many beatings was he forced to participate in? what did he have to say to jean in french that he didn't want riko to hear?
he needs someone with him all the time because of the nest. he's a "health freak" because of the nest. his sleep schedule, his anger, his anxiety.
did he say "what about the season?" re: andrew after drake because he doesn't care, or did he think "i've seen this happen too many times. and they've always kept playing,"? did he think "andrew is the strongest person i know. andrew is stronger than me. he would never let this destroy him," knowing that it has?
nobody has protected him in his life apart from the cameras and andrew.
he's scared. he doesn't know what love is supposed to look like.
he's only been a human for a year.
his scars are healing for the first time in his life and they're not being replaced by new ones, but every day he's afraid that that's going to get ripped out from underneath him. his entire life already got flipped upside down when he left the nest. of course exy is the only thing he "cares" about.
because it's the only thing that's been certain in his life, and even for those few weeks or months where he thought he would never play again, he trained and trained, and learned how to use his non-dominant hand because he can't lose this. he can't lose exy like he's lost everything else.
kevin has never had anything stable in his life except for violence and exy. now he has people he's supposed to care about, and he has to change his priorities. he has to learn how live a life that isn't fueled by self-preservation for the first time ever.
jean was only in the nest for five years; and look at him. look at what the nest has done to his social skills, his view of himself, his self esteem. look at what it's done to him, how he expects violence and contrition, coach and always waiting and waiting and waiting for the punishment to come.
kevin might not have had the same level of physical abuse that jean had, but he was there far longer. the ravens existed before him; their mindset and their abuse and their violence and their poison.
he's been drinking the raven poison since his childhood. the only difference between him and jean other than those things above is that kevin had more pressure to hide it, because he was half of the face of the ravens, half of the face of Exy; media trained or PR trained or a master at being a fraud and faking the way he speaks when he's being recorded.
kevin knows how to hide his abuse because he has always had to, and he's had quite a lot of practice at it.
kevin has only been a human for a year. kevin has only been kevin for a year.
so who is he? does he even know?
or is he just Kevin Day, Raven Fox starting striker, number two, six foot two, left handed right handed left handed, heavy racquet, stick size five? is that all he will ever see himself as?
anyways. or something like that. maybe he is just an insufferable bitch for no reason at all. who knows!
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lbcreations-blog · 3 days
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Husker, Charlie, and angel (seperate) with a teen reader who’s often found hanging around the hotel, not because they’re a sinner looking to rehabilitate (they’re hellborn) but just cuz they’re bored and want some entertainment. Overtime husker, Charlie and angel have become older familial figures and really close to reader. So what if reader comes to them one day and admits the real reason they’re always at the hotel is bc they’re being sexually abused at home? Sorry if you don’t feel comfortable with this, I’m honestly feeling a but uncomfortable requesting it but the comfort is much needed
If ya don’t wanna write this it’s ok just let me know pls
Auther note to requester: Of course, I'll write this, I also need comfort on this stuff, so yea. I had a bit of a writers block, and this is also not my best work, which I apologize for. Plus, I apologize for this coming out so late.
I have no idea why husks section is so short😭
All plotonic
Gn reader
The reader is shorter than Angel and Charlie and the same height as husk, btw
TW: slight descriptions of injuries and mentions of signs of struggle
Masterlist
No one should hurt someone like this
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You loved hanging around at the hotel. You enjoying the chaos of the residents
You were there basically every day
You got very close to the bartender at the hotel
Husk was like an acutel father to you
He would always talk to you. Sometimes, he would show you magic tricks, and you loved it
One day, you seemed so sad
So Husk decided to wait until everyone's out of the lobby and ask what's up
Once, you had the courage to tell him he got angry at the ones who were supposed to raise you and nurture you.
But before he would do anything to the ones at your so-called 'home' he would comfort you
It might be a bit awkward, but he would do his best
He might even ask Charlie to let you stay at the hotel as an official resident
After comforting you, he would wait for the day he beats the ones who hurt you assess
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Charlie was confused as to why you would hang around at the hotel for you being hellborn like her
But she let you stay thinking that even you, a hellborn, was supporting her hotel
After a while of being at the hotel, you and Charlie bonded quite nicely
She was like a super cool, bubbly, older sister to you
Compared to basically everyone in hell, you generally vibed with her, for some reason
Now, one day, you just weren't at the hotel
And then the next day
And the one after that
Now Charlie was worried, so she got the forms that tells where everybody lives and makes her way over to your adobe
Charlie walked up to your door and knocked the knocker three times.
No answer
After waiting for two minutes, she knocked three times once again.
Again no answer
She knocked with the knocker against the door one more time, but to no avail.
No answer
Charlie knew you were in your house she could sense your aroa, and your aroa felt hurt, so she knew she knew that had to do one thing and one thing only.
Go into your house without your permission.
She had to go in to make sure you were ok. So she tried to go into your house. But the door was locked. So she unlocked the door with her powers and stepped inside, and goodness, the place looks terrible. The couch was flipped in the lounge, and other signs off struggle was obvious.
Charlie walked around the house carefully in case someone else was lurking in the house. After a while, she found herself in front of a door with your name on it. This was definitely your room. She opened your door with caution, and...
There was you.
On the floor.
Sitting there with your hands covering your face.
There were bruises on your body, and you were quietly sobbing.
Charlie gasped upon the sight that was displayed in front of her. You looked up at her. You looked, so... terrified. And Charlie hated it so much. She quickly rushed to your side and softly hugged you so as not to hurt you more.
"Hey, hey," Charlie said in a soft voice. "Are you badly hurt? And do you know who hurt you?"
"I-" you sobbed softly.
"Hey. Hey, it's OK, it's OK, take your time," Charlie told you in the most comforting voice she could muster.
"The, ones I live with, did this to me" you told her in between sniffles.
Charlie was angered on this fact but stayed with you and tried to keep her calm. All she knew was that she would make sure those assholes would be dealt with, biological or not, no one hurts her younger sibling.
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Angel Dust, the porn star
A tricky fella per-say
How did you become friends? It's hard to say
But for me and everyone else, you are like 12 - 14 in his version, and since you are oh so young, he doesn't talk about that stuff around you, like he might cuse but that's cause everyone does that
Anyway, now you both are pretty close, maybe you both like to dress up to together or smthn
After a while, you kinda start feeling like Angel is your older brother like yall have so much fun together
So since you veiw him as such, you felt as if you should share something you think he'll know about, even though it's supposed to be a secret
You softly knocked on Angel's bedroom door. "Hey Angel, it's me, Y/N," the door opened to show Angel. "Oh Heya kid, how'ya been?" Angel asked you. "Oh, ok, I guess... hey, uhm, I wanna talk to you in your room." You told the sinner with an uncomfortable face.
"Uh, alright com'n in kid," he said, moving out of the way off the door. You both sat down on his couch. "So what's been troubling, you kid?" Angel asked you. "Uhm, well, I'll just show you." You said as you brought your turtleneck down. Once Angel realized what he was seeing, he was shocked, angry, and just sad.
There was a hikey on your neck. "Uhm, Angel, do you know what this is?" You asked him, but instead of getting a response back.
You got a hug.
A very nice and warm one.
Sooner or later, Angel was gonna kill those basstards that hurt you.
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Taglist: @fatherlesschild2 @whitewingsh @iheartpieck @i-yuki @ilovemyths2003 @im-so-tired52 @yuuandtheghost
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paradiseprincesss · 2 days
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Ooo I have been loving ALL your fics and your robert fischer one gave me an idea… the reader is a call girl who grew up poor, he hires us and after a while slowly falls in love with her and feels guilty and happy ending for both of my sad babies🥹
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pov - robert fischer x reader
hi anon! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but i love this - robert fischer will always be a soft character in my mind, i feel like he's just...like that. i just feel like he's a sad and lonely guy with the sweetest heart - i need a robert fischer in my life fr.
summary: as a call girl, your life was chaotic. ever since you were a little girl you had struggled with both self acceptance and self love, but you suddenly meet a client who changes your perspective of everything you thought you knew.
warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, kissing, swearing, mentions of toxic household, daddy issues, mentions of escorting/prostitution lol
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…to be loved is to be changed.
you never know when you'll meet the one that changes everything - fate is funny that way. you don't know when they'll show up in your life, maybe you already know them, maybe you don't.
"god, you have no idea what it's like for me! i was struggling to pay my tuition. i'm doing what i have to do to get by, mom!" you scream, tears streaming down your face.
"then go get a job," she yelled back at you, "being some old mans escort is not a real job!"
"i'm- jesus, i'm a call girl it's- it's just different, okay? and it pays well. i can't continue to pay for college if i don't do this. you know a regular job doesn't pay shit." you say, your hands trembling as you argued with your mom.
the one figure in your life that was supposed to show you unconditional love wasn't there for you; but you didn't hold any animosity towards her. she was struggling as much as you were. did.
not anymore.
you hated this - fighting and arguing with her. it hurt you deeply. but, you did what you had to do to get by. your father wasn't in the picture, and your mother worked two jobs but that was barely enough to make ends meet.
your whole childhood was tumultuous, you grew up in a home with a single parent, the other one gone without a trace. you didn't know love growing up, and honestly, it fucked up your perception of the world - of the word love.
you put your all into school; it was the only thing that distracted you from your home life, and you were good at it. you managed to get pretty good grades in high school, no less than an A- in any subject you took, and post-graduation, you got into a pretty good college in your area.
you had moved out the day you turned eighteen, eager and excited to go out and blossom in life; but reality hit you, hard.
rent was expensive, and paying for college? god, that was a struggle in itself. you worked the odd job here and there, whether it was a cashier job or waitressing job, but neither paid enough. you did a little online research and came across escorting. the only thing that really enticed you was the paycheque - and my goodness was it a hefty one.
you kept this life of yours a secret - but you told your mom the truth earlier when she came by to visit you. she was surprised to see the apartment you were living in; decked out and lavish. she'd asked you where you had gotten the money to pay for this from, and you told her what you were doing.
turns out your mother wasn't too happy about her daughter being a glorified escort, and after arguing with you, she slammed the door in your face, which left you a sobbing mess.
but at least you had money now, right?
after scoring a position with a lucrative company which you couldn't disclose for...certain reasons, you received your first job. then you booked another, and another, and soon, you were a top money maker there.
with a face like that and the body you had - you were not short on cash, let's just say that. you were getting paid thousands just to make appearances with rich men - and getting paid tens of thousands to sleep with them.
as much as you loved the cash, you were miserable on the inside. money got boring after a while, it was just another part of your unexciting, depressing, melancholy life.
diamonds and designer bags couldn't fix the hole in your heart, they couldn't fix the emptiness that lingered within you.
if there was someone who understood this feeling better than anyone else - it was robert fischer.
sure, he never grew up poor or struggled to have money, but he knew damn well that money couldn't solve all your problems. in fact, having a lot of money came with more problems, he thought.
robert didn't know love - it was unfamiliar to him. none of his ex-girlfriends loved him, they just loved his money. they didn't care about him, they just cared about cashing in.
and every time he broke it off with them, they would tell him "don't leave, i miss you" - but he knew better than that. they didn't miss shit but the money, designer bags, and the lavish lifestyle.
after a particularly agonizing day at work, robert came home to his penthouse; head clouded with stress. honestly, it had been months since he had sex - been forever since he just felt loved or had any form of intimacy.
he craved it real bad.
so, he sighed as he dialled the number on his phone, waiting as the line rung quietly. quickly, someone answered and he put in his request - "i'll give you fifteen grand to send over your best girl," was all he said over the phone, quickly giving his address over afterwards.
and that is the story of how you ended up as robert fischers personal call girl - but that was just the beginning.
when you first met robert, you were pleasantly surprised. usually, your clientele consisted of old, rich men who were (at least in your opinion) disgusting. however, robert on the other hand was handsome, young, kind and rich on top of all that.
he was your best client thus far, and you were his favourite girl - not that he had any other girls, anyway. he paid you way more than any other man did, and he tipped generously on top of that.
soon enough, you were only seeing robert - exclusively. for work reasons of course. and he tried to tell himself that, too. that this was just sex. it didn't mean anything, right?
wrong.
he pushed you down onto the bed gently, running his hands all over your body while his lips caught yours in a deep kiss. today, you were waiting for him in his penthouse wearing a baby pink, lacy babydoll with matching pink panties and some stockings.
robert damn near lost his mind when he saw you in your lingerie, his cock was straining against his pants the second he laid eyes on you - sprawled out on his bed, biting your lip teasingly.
"fuck, i love you in pink." he groaned against your lips - but what he was really trying to tell you was "i love you."
he positioned you so that you were now sat up against the headboard of his bed, propped up against the plush pillows looking like a princess. slowly, he took his hand up to your thigh, blue eyes still locked with yours, and teasingly started to take your stockings off. he did it excruciatingly slow with the other one, too.
once your stockings were off, he looked at you with admiration. he truly thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. ethereal. "can i?" he asked softly, his hands now trailing down your inner thighs, dangerously close to your clothed heat.
"m-mhm." you hum with a small nod, trying not to lose your mind. keeping your composure around him was proving to become more and more difficult every time.
he hooked his finger into the waistband of the tiny, lacy, pink thong and pulled it down your legs, groaning softly at the sight of your cunt all soaked for him.
"you're soaked. i can see it." he said lowly, and it takes every fucking ounce of self restraint you have in your body not to moan at the way he says it.
"y-yeah. s'cause of you, robbie." you say softly as he spreads your legs open, his mouth watering at the sight. he peppered kisses onto the insides of your thighs, teasingly kissing everywhere except where you so desperately needed him to kiss you.
"please." you whisper, and that was all he needed to hear before he was lapping up your pretty pussy. he licked a stripe up your cunt and you let out a desperate moan at the feeling of his mouth on you.
he continued to eat you out as if it was the last thing he'd ever do, making your head spin. you were moaning his name over and over, begging him to let you cum on his face as he sucked on your clit.
he took one of his fingers and slowly started to pump it in and out of your soaking hole. "oh fuck, i-i need you inside of me." you pleaded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to release.
"only if you cum on my tongue, baby." he says between your legs, and you started to gasp and moan as you felt your orgasm approach you at full speed.
"i'm- gonna cum!" you desperately cry, feeling yourself cream all over his face as he took every last drop of it.
he sat up wiping his mouth and chin, glistening with your slick, and smiled at you dopily - he was in heaven.
“lay back on the bed for me, princess.” he commanded softly, and you oblige immediately. as you find comfort within the huge, king-sized bed and soft pillows, he unbuttoned his white dress shirt and undid his tie, taking it off while you watched like a predator stalking its prey.
next came his slacks, which he was rushing to get out of. as his cock sprung free from his boxers, your body felt like it was going into overdrive. robert got between your legs and took hold of your hips before lining his cock up with your drooling entrance.
slowly, he pushed in and the both of you let out sinful sounds. sex never had any meaning for you - it was just your profession, you didn’t know any different. but when he was inside you, when you let him into you - things felt...different.
robert was in way too deep to get out now (both figuratively and literally), and he slowly started to thrust himself in and out of you at a slow pace. one thing you noticed about robert, especially when you guys were fucking, was that he never broke eye contact.
nobody had ever fucked you so sensually before, let alone with such care. he fucked into you gently, the both of you moaning and breathing heavily, and he got lost in your pretty eyes.
he loved you - and he knew it was wrong.
it was the one thing you shouldn’t do when hiring a call girl - fall in love with her. he knew he shouldn’t fall in love with a woman who’s literal job was to pretend that she loved you and fuck you right, but he couldn’t help it.
robert - like you - didn’t know what love was until he felt you. until he knew you.
“f-fuck, faster robbie.” you whispered, breathless and feeling almost out of touch with reality with how good he felt inside you - it was like he was made for you.
“god, you’re so fucking tight. you- ugh, you feel so good, baby.” robert moaned, and you could almost hear the desperation in his voice. “i’m already about to cum, jesus-“ he stammered, voice strained.
“then cum, ah-.” you urged, wrapping your arms around him in a way that was a little too intimate for it to just be part of your job.
“how much extra do you want, ten grand?” he panted as he fucked your pretty pussy, feeling you tighten up around his hard cock.
“wha- robbie, what?” you try to talk properly through the pleasure he was bringing you; it was overwhelming. you weren’t sure why he was bringing up payments and money now of all times, this had been discussed already at the beginning of…whatever this agreement was.
“how much to make you mine? please - i love you.” he said, losing himself in the feeling of you.
you felt your mouth go dry as the words fell from his lips, and in a panic you struggle from underneath him, trying your hardest to push him away.
“wait- wait, stop-“ you say all flustered and panicked. this wasn’t supposed to happen - this should never happen between you and your clients.
he stops as soon as you say the word, and you backup into the the headboard of the bed anxiously, grabbing the blankets to cover yourself up as soon as he had pulled out.
you had never known love before, so when you heard those words, it sent you into an abysmal spiral.
“i-i’m sorry, i just-“ he stammered, the two of you looking each other awkwardly, and robert felt his heart break in two silently.
“don’t apologize, it’s my fault.” you sigh, looking down.
“no, cmon- i shouldn’t have said that.” he said back, and you glanced at him for a second - he looked like he was hurting. like it physically hurt him to tell hear you turn him down in a sense.
you felt a tear run down your cheek, and you wiped it away, already embarrassed enough. this had never happened in front of a client before.
was robert just a client, though?
before you had a chance to answer your own question, robert answered it for you. he took his hand out, gentle and soft, and wiped the tears away from your cheek.
“what’s going on?” he spoke softly, and you just shook your head, avoiding all eye contact.
“i- please, i’m so embarrassed. i’m sorry. you don’t need to pay me for today.” you whisper.
he shakes his head, and grabs a robe that he had draped over the ottoman in front of his bed, and quickly threw it on. you stayed with the covers pulled up over your chest and the rest of your body, watching him carefully.
he approaches you cautiously, and without another word he pulls you into his embrace - warm and inviting, just like him.
it felt like the missing piece in your chaotic, incomplete puzzle that you called your life.
words failed you in that moment, but it felt foreign. the feeling of being loved, being comforted, being vulnerable was new to you. you didn’t know such feelings could exist - at least, you grew up thinking that anyway.
"i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have said that." he said softly, petting your hair gently. "no, it's- fine. i-i don't know why i reacted like that." you reassured him, not quite knowing the reason behind your erratic behaviour.
"we don't have to continue, okay?" he reassures you in a soothing tone, and you let yourself fall into the feeling of his touch and embrace for a moment too long, before coming to your senses.
"t-thank you," you mumble, "i just don't think i'm in a good head space right now."
"and that's okay." he reassures you once again - he was really good at that. "why don't we just end todays session and i'll see you again next week, same time?"
"yeah, okay. i'm sorry, robbie." you murmur, and robert could feel his heart beating rapidly as you said his name like that - the name you called him.
after that, you had left in a rush (and felt super unprofessional about it), profusely apologizing for what had happened but he kept telling you that it was okay.
once you got back to your place, you ran a hot shower for yourself to collect your thoughts and calm yourself down. after that, you got into bed and fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day you had.
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the next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, and frankly - still super embarrassed from yesterday. cringing at your own actions, you felt like you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never show your face again.
why did you react like that? why did you have to make a scene? why did robert's confession throw you off so badly?
deep down, you knew the answers to these questions.
you reacted like that because you grew up around constant chaos and poverty, you didn't know what it was like to be cared for, to be loved. you made a scene because for someone who's never known love, facing the unknown was terrifying.
but why did robert's confession throw you off? why?
you sat there in bed, wondering. wondering to yourself why he would want you of all people - some call girl he ordered because he was bored. why wasn't he with some other girl who had come from money like him? come from class? why would he chose you?
in that moment, it went right over your head, but his confession threw you off because you didn't feel worthy. you didn't know how to trust - you couldn't see yourself the way robert saw you, after all.
suddenly, you heard your phone buzz beside you. looking a the notification, you found yourself shocked. you had received an e-transfer from robert of double the normal amount he was paying you.
your jaw dropped and you had to re-read the numbers in your account to really make sure this was real. in a state of shock, you look through your contacts and give him a call in the spur of the moment.
"hello?" his slightly raspy morning voice answered, and you felt your heart do a little flip at the sound of it - but you pushed it aside.
"hey, robert, it's me," you say, taking in a breath, "i...you didn't have to pay me, i told you."
he sighed on the other line, "no, i shouldn't have...told you what i did. i'm sorry, i...i've been thinking about it."
you stayed silent, unsure of what to say next, but he continued talking regardless. "can we talk? i'll pay you for your time."
"you don't have to do that, robert. and yes, yeah let's, um, talk." you say to him, and the two of you arrange to meet at his at three.
you get yourself ready, doing your hair in your favourite hair style and your makeup all glamorous, throwing on your favourite saint laurent heels with a matching satin mini dress.
you rush out the door, and hopped into your car, speeding off to his place. usually, he would send a driver out to yours, but you were off the clock. he insisted over the phone, but you urged him that you could drive and it was fine.
as soon as you got to the building of his penthouse, he buzzed you in and you made your way up the elevator. after knocking on the door, he opened it with a small smile on his face. he was wearing the usual - suit and tie, of course.
as he welcomed you in, he told you about the meeting he had at his office earlier that day - hence the whole suit and tie getup.
"anyways, i'm sure i'm boring you with the details about my work meeting." he says, laughing softly and you smile. "not at all, it's refreshing to hear you talk about other parts of your life besides...you know, the usual stuff we talk about."
he smiled back at you, but it seemed he was having trouble getting his words out - he didn't know how to tell you what he wanted to tell you.
"er, please know that, fuck- i just, i didn't mean to scare you away with what i said." he stammered, clearly flustered.
"...what did you mean, robert?" you ask meekly, avoiding eye contact. he slowly steps a little closer, closing the gap between the two of you.
"i have feelings for you." he says, voice strained out of sheer nervousness.
"don't say that," you sigh, "this- us, it isn't real. it's just like, playing pretend."
you so desperately wanted to say, "me too, i fell for you too," but your insecurities stopped you. even though you worked in a profession where you were paid to be pretty, paid to look good as arm candy, you felt inadequate all the time. you didn't feel pretty - you felt indifferent. sometimes, you didn't even know who you were.
there was a lot of baggage that came with you, but it was nothing that would ever scare robert off.
"i know what it's like to 'play pretend,'" he said, emphasizing his words with air quotations, "i've done that for the last ten years of my life - with every woman i've ever dated. they pretended to like me for me and not my money, and i pretended that i didn't see what they were really doing."
"you're literally paying me to sleep with you, robert. this is transactional." you say, trying to convince yourself into thinking that was the truth.
"god- it's not. it's not, you know it, i know it. we both know it." he exasperates, and you look away again as he continues. "i can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way you say my name, i can tell. and i know you can tell by the way i hold you, talk to you - the way i don't want anyone else but you."
as he confessed, you felt your cheeks go pink. you didn't realize that he was this much of a romantic - it was kinda cute. it was obvious that he was so serious about this, but you on the other hand...
you weren't too convinced. you had never received such attention, such care or such...love before.
"why are you lying to yourself?" his voice snapped you out of your anxious thoughts, and you finally found the courage to meet his gaze.
trying your hardest not to get lost in his ocean eyes, you manage to get a response out. "i-i don't know. i guess i just don't understand it. i don't understand how you could like, fall in love with someone who does...what i do."
he sighed softly, tilting your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. "let me help you understand, then."
one second you were trying to deny every lovey-dovey feeling you had for him - and the next his lips were on yours. it just happened so naturally.
in that moment, you could feel every insecurity, every anxious thought, every piece of pent up trauma and trust issues subside with him.
he wrapped his arms around your waist lovingly, holding you in his embrace as he kissed you softly.
you were off the clock, and so was he. neither of you were your personas anymore. you weren't just some call girl anymore (not that he ever saw you as just that), and he wasn't robert fischer of fischer morrow right now - he was just yours.
you were the first to pull away from the kiss, and you looked up at him with a small smile, which he returned.
"you have no idea how much i care about you." he whispered softly, "i wish you could see yourself in the way that i see you."
his words struck a chord for sure, and you felt yourself getting teary eyed again. "jesus, robert - stop making me cry." you laugh softly, trying to hold back the tears.
"i want to know who you are - not the usual work stuff. tell me about your life." he said softly, keeping you close.
and so you did - you did exactly that. that evening, you had spent the whole time getting to really know each other. from childhood memories to what you ate for breakfast that day - no parts left out. he told you about himself too, and finally, you felt safe.
you finally felt like the years of walls you had built up were gradually coming down, and all the baggage you accumulated over the years was slowly fading.
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you looked over the terrace of your suite in your lace slip, taking in the beauty of the eiffel tower which you could see from your luxurious hotel room.
"s'pretty, just like you." robert says, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss behind your ear. "good morning, mrs. fischer."
ah, that's right.
you were mrs. fischer now - newly married and happier than ever. after that fateful night in roberts penthouse, the two of you just clicked. it was fate, no - destiny. it was like something you had never known before, the pull between you two was on a metaphysical level, and for once, you didn't fight the fall.
now, nearly three years later, you were taking in the gorgeous view of paris in the early morning on your honeymoon.
your wedding was beautiful - private and intimate - but beautiful. it was just the way you imagined it would be; everything you dreamed of. robert had proposed to you a week after you graduated from your program in college, and the two of you were happily in love - still happily in love, and always would be happily in love.
you decided to quit your call girl job, as there was no longer a need to work anymore at all. robert covered all of your finances, never once did you ever pick up the bill with him. he supported you in everything that you did, always being there for you and showing up for you when you most needed him.
he never judged you, never belittled you, never made you doubt how much he loved you. it was like he had superpowers with the way he was able to permeate through all the past trauma you had. it didn't matter to him if you were working in the escort business before he came along; he simply didn't care.
your past is in the past for a reason, that wasn't you anymore. you were a different woman now. softer and no longer had her guard up constantly. sometimes, you felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.
because he loved you for you. he taught you how to be grateful for yourself, to show up for yourself, to love yourself the way he loved you.
"i love you so much, honey. god, i love everything about you." he said softly, kissing down your neck, making you giggle.
"mm, i'd love to see me from your point of view." you say, taking in the breathtaking view of paris, and your new life.
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042502 · 3 days
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☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The unwritten rule.
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about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.
word count. 2K
a/n. This is the Chapter 2, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English, you will read this under this warning. m.list.
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I've liked Chris for a long time. A shameful long time, and no one, not even Anna knows it. She thinks that in eighth grade, when he asked me to the dance and I said yes, he was just being nice, and when I said: "I like it a little, okay?” waiting for her to say she was.
She just said: "Come on, you can't really like me. It’s Chris.”
I could still remember her telling me how lucky I was because it turned out that he couldn't go because his grandmother had passed away and he had to fly to Boston for the funeral. At that point Chris wasn't worth Anna's time or interest, so he wasn't supposed to be worth it to me.
But I thought so. I wanted to go to that dance with him, I wanted to be his girlfriend, but we couldn't go to the dance, and when he came back from the funeral Anna had told everyone that I hadn't wanted to go out with him and was too kind to say no.
He listened, of course, and we didn't speak again until the end of our freshman year of high school, when we ended up standing next to each other waiting to leave the school during a fire drill. I can't be the only person who sees the problem with that, right?
We spoke only one day.
"Hello, what's happening?" And guessing how burned we'd be if there was a real fire, And after that, I admit that I thought, wait, maybe, someday...
And then, something from six weeks ago, I saw him at a party.
I saw it, but Anna had it.
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I see Anna waving at him as I get on the road. Chris raises a hand too, and I try not to think about that party. About what I thought at that moment.
About his hand touching mine.The party that Anna and Chris got together at was a thing where summer oh shit school is going to suck, and all the usual suspects were there. Anna ran into a bunch of people from the drama club, and everyone was talking about what work they wanted to do.
I was looking around the house, greeting everyone who passed by and talking about summer, We all agreed it was too short.
I wandered off to the studio, which was his usual study. A haven for dad complete with a comfy, stubby chair that they clearly didn't allow into any other space in the house, a collection of newspapers and magazines, all open in articles about sports, and two huge shelves, They ran from floor to ceiling and were filled with paperback books and what looked like old manuals, but there were also some books on the coffee table, of the kind that are all photographs. One of them was shoes.
And here's the thing about me: I like shoes. Good sneakers. I have twenty seven pairs, and twenty-five of them are ones that I decorated myself or bought already designed. Two pairs are in my room now, stark white and waiting for inspiration to strike.
Which leads me to what happened. There I was, flipping through the shoe book and wondering if I could get a copy and decorate a pair of sneakers with shoe cutouts. I saw heels around the edges, boot dancing across the top, and bright yellow lace with lovely tiny silver slippers on the ends. When I saw a painting on the wall.
I don't know much about art, but the painting was clearly valuable. It was nicely framed and had one of those little reflectors that say "Look! Look at this picture!" about her. I had also been waiting to see one of those little white cards screwed to the wall next to the painting with a little title like "the internal struggle of the human spirit", but there was nothing there, just the paint and the light.
The paint, well, it looked like shit.
I didn't mean it figuratively, I was serious, literal.
I moved a little closer, interested and horrified, and I practically had my nose against the glass frame when someone entered the room. I looked over there, and it was Chris. I smiled at him.
And then I felt my heart drop into my stomach because... Well, the summer had been very, very good with him.
Chris had always been three things: silly, joker and obsessed with music.
During the summer, had grown to the point that I had to look up to meet his eyes, and he had a pretty muscular body. Not the big, bulky kind you always picture when you hear those words, but long and toned ones.
He seemed... I wish I were a poet, but he looked beautiful in a strange, exotic way and when he said "Hi, Ada", I wanted to run up to him and trace the lines of his cheekbones with my fingers and then touch his hair.
And that's fine, the rest of it.
Although, I did not do it. I just said "Hi Chris, can you tell me what this is?, like he was normal old Chris, the one who had vomited just before giving an oral assignment in fifth grade and is not suddenly a wonderful creature whose face, that had all angles and was huge, with amazing blue eyes, It had come together in a way that worked and made me shiver.
"It's a painting” he mentions smiling at me. I had always liked Chris's smile, She was friendly and warm, but now in that face he had become, it was lethal.
“I, I kind of realized that.” I cleared my throat.
I knew from Anna that being beautiful wasn't all that great. Anna had changed in second and third grade. One day we were both first year girls, the next day, She was a supermodel who had an A-list girl as a best friend. Maybe it wasn't so dramatic, but it was quite sudden.
Anna had always been pretty, but she became beautiful quickly, and people had noticed it. She liked it at first, it was even all they noticed. And then she got used to it. That took a while though, and I remembered her screaming "I am more than breasts! You know?" to a boy we met at the shopping just after everything had changed for her, and then how I had cried that night in my room, hating that people looked at her and saw nothing more than her body and face.
“Looks like…" Chris remained silent, narrowing his eyes and looking at the painting.
"Shit?" I said, and then he smiled back at me. My stomach did a somersault with that smile and I swallowed hard. I told myself it was Chris, and that I had known and liked him forever.
The thing was, I had always liked him.
“That's what it looks like, but I don't think it is.” It still sounded the same, I still sounded like Chris, a voice that had been a little serious and deep for him before. Now he was laughing. “I think it's dust.” He pointed to the painting, careful not to touch the glass. “Look, do you see this?”
As soon as I saw Chris' reflection in the glass, I nodded anyway.
“Looks like a smudged handprint” I give it a short look, and then go back to see where it says. “Just like someone leaves a mark, time and nature wear it down. Maybe it's about what's left after you create something. The little you're not supposed to see, but that's what it has to be for a painting to exist.”
Now he actually sounded like the Chris I knew, the one who had greeted in the hallways every day last year, the one who was my friend.
“Or some boy just thought, hey, I have this gob of coffee, why don’t I smear it on a canvas?”
“Disgusting” we both laugh. “Where have you been all summer, anyway?”
"Me?" I'm ashamed to admit that I yelled at him.
“Yeah, I didn’t see you around.”
“That's because I was at home, helping out and all that.” explained. “My father paid me to paint the garage.”
Brilliant, now she sounded like a fourth grader. My dad paid me to paint the garage! I had no life!
“I painted too” speak. “Houses, I mean. Do not paint to paint. I did some of that, but most of it was at home, like I said.”
I relaxed a little more then, despite his appearance he was still Chris.
“So, that's how you got those muscles” I hit him on the arm. He shrugged, blushing a little. 
Imagine a boy, He is a little taller than you, with the perfect skin of those that scream "Touch me!" and long disheveled hair. He looks so sweet, and it is. Surely you can understand why I dropped the book I was still holding.
He bent down to take it at the same time as me, and for a moment we were so close that I could have leaned over and kissed him.
“Take” He extended the book to me. We were still so close, and he was looking at me, the smile in his eyes darkening into something deeper, more intense.
“Thank you” although I bet it sounded more like "garatyuhrh", and then I reached for the book and he handed it to me, his hands touching mine for a moment.
And then he said "Ada", and took my hand again. I looked down, my ears stained with the dark green my father wanted for the garage, and his hands were stained too, white and yellow, and the book slid to the floor as he did more than touch my hand. He held it, and slid his fingers into mine.
Our palms were pressed together, And all I could think of was a line I had read somewhere, about palms pressed together like a kiss, and he was still looking at me and then we were standing, still holding hands, and I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I could only watch and wait, waiting and breathless for him to move closer and closer and….
“Ada, You won't believe what I heard the game would be. It’s… Oh” 
It was Anna.
He looked straight at Chris, and smiled the smile she gave when she saw a boy she wanted to see.
"Hello you” she was splendid, tanned, Tall and beautiful, her black hair curled around her heart-shaped face, and I saw Chris smile back.
"Hello Anna” Chris greets her.
“What have you been doing this summer? “Come and tell me everything while I go to the store for some soda.” she smiled to me. “I have to go in a while. One more story about camping and I'll start screaming I swear, I wish I could have gone.”
"I know” Because he had been there when his mother said no, I tried not to notice that my hand was no longer touching Chris. “Don’t just bring Grape, okay?”
“I wouldn't just bring Grape , ok. I would, but I won't." He put his arm in Chris's as he led him out of the room, driving towards her as only she could, and by the time they returned with a few six-packs. Anna smiled at me, a pleasant, bright smile. “Chris likes Grape , too.” He throws me a can of Pepsi. "Your favorite."
“Mine too” Chris made that comment, but he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Anna, perplexed I would even say stunned, and I knew he wasn't going to turn around.
I looked at her, and she was smiling the smile she made when she saw a boy she wanted., and that's when I knew I was going to get it because that's who she was and what she did.
I saw that I had already achieved it.
I went to the kitchen to drink my Pepsi. I served it in a glass with ice. I waited for the effervescence to dissolve. Delay techniques, and by the time I took it and returned to where Anna was, she and Chris were sitting together, talking.
Anna was nodding attentively, like everything he was saying meant to her. Chris was still looking at her slightly dazed, but then he looked at me and started to say something, and then Anna touched his face and kissed him in front of everyone.
And there it was. He was hers.
He could have talked to me first. He might have even held my hand first. But that didn't matter.
Except for me.
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જ⁀➴ taglis. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess @sturnlova @inlovewithchriss @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsgirlsblog
a.n. If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^
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mrswarnerxo · 3 days
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❪ ★ ❫ safe space.
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: aaron warner x ADHD fem!reader
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: in where aaron warner helps his girlfriend with her ADHD.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slight burnout, pet names, stress, slight eating disorder, mental illnesses, anxiety(?), comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, fem reader, modern AU (this is totally a self insert but idc because I NEED TJIS RN OKAY DONT BLAME EM GUYS BLAME GOD)
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1343
𝐀/𝐍: i like totally needed this because i just got overwhelmed and had a breakdown yesterday and i dont feel motivated to do shit todsu (its glimg to go away tomorrow but let me be dramatic smh) ANYWAS THIS IS FOR ALL MY ADHD GIRLIES WHO ARE LIKE ME AND SUFFER WITH THIS <333 (also idk if this is realistic or just normal for yall, i just put the things that happen to me everyday that classifies as adhd😾)
𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐀/𝐍: ykw idk if tjis ks good or not i made this at like 1 am so im tirdx bfo but whayever ima post it and see what happens lol
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.
𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle @aaron-warner @reyreadersblog @urbanflorals @heqrtlcss (ask if you want to be added or removed from taglist! <3)
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1. executive dysfunction.
(ONE example: focusing too much on one thing, OR, hyperfixation.)
now, you know that you were supposed to be doing something else. it’s about 11:20, and that’s when you and aaron eat lunch together. but, you had to finish this.
plus, it’ll only take a little while, right? it isn’t like you’ll spend thirty more minutes writing a synopsis for a book you read for a friend who asked about it.
wrong.
ten minutes later, your shoulder gets gently pushed. your eyes immediately trail to the owner of the hands and find aaron.
“i know, i know, i’m almost finished,” you say, going back to quickly typing on the keyboard of your laptop. you could feel aaron frown, his eyes still on your head.
“love, it’s time for lunch. you know you have to eat, right?” he asks, putting his hands on the armrest of your chair. though, you barely pay attention to it. “i know. i’m almost finished, though.”
aaron sighs before you find yourself getting turned around in your chair, making your arms fling to the armrest. the blond leans down so he can meet your eyes, his face stern.
“y/n. you know i love you—so much—but it’s time to stop and eat lunch. you know that,” he says, sternly, his eyes focused on you.
you frown and glance back to your laptop before sighing and agreeing with him. “okay, okay,” you grumble, getting up from your chair.
aaron smiles as he follows behind you as you walk into the living room to eat lunch with him.
2. uncontrollable fidgeting.
(a physical reaction to stress or concentration.)
you couldn’t help it. you practically needed something to fidget with. this day was already stressful with you forgetting to set your alarm clock, causing both you and aaron to wake up late; not to mention work being stressful and hard for you.
it was an instinct to fidget whenever you were stressed.
you quickly put your keys down once you made it into your house and immediately looked around for aaron. sadly, you didn’t see him in the living room, or kitchen, so you went to your shared bedroom.
luckily, you find aaron on the bed, who, surprisingly, is wearing a grey hoodie and sweatpants. you don’t have time to gawk before you walk up to your boyfriend and practically lounge on top of his chest, making him grunt in shock.
“angel?” he asks, turning off the tv with the remote before his hands wrap around your hips.
you start to fidget with the strings of his hoodie, tugging on them and folding them up. normally you’d have one of those pop-its or a different kind of fidget toy, but this time, you don't.
aaron thankfully figures out what’s happening when you don’t respond and quickly leans over to his bedside counter, careful not to move you, and gets one of the fidget toys he got for you.
huh, you didn’t even realize that was there.
“here, angel,” he says softly, smiling whenever you look up at him take the toy from his hands and start to fidget with it on his chest.
you see him grab the remote and turn on the movie that he was watching before moving one of his hands behind his head, his other hand still resting on your hip.
3. choice paralysis.
(inability to choose choices or decisions.)
you bite your lip in stress, your fingers tapping against your thigh. you and your friends decided to hang out, and they wanted to meet up somewhere again.
it was going fine until one of your friends decided to let you choose since you’d never chosen before.
“so, where are we going, y/n?” your friend beside you asks, lifting an eyebrow at you. it isn't their fault that they don't know about your adhd. only your close friends do, but they’re not here right now. and that makes this 10x worse.
“uhm… i don’t know,” you say with a shrug. saying i don’t know to things was always easier than making decisions. choosing made you panic, stressed, even though you didn’t know why.
“come on, y/n. you can’t just say i don’t know about this,” your other friend sighs, looking up at you from the floor. you nervously bite your lip, moving your feet around.
“well—i don’t really know places y’know? why don’t one of you guys choose?” you asked hopefully, hoping that they would spare you.
they didn’t.
“nope. it’s your turn to choose. we all chose,” the friend beside you says, shrugging nonchalantly. you begin to wish that aaron was there right now.
good thing that apparently, he’s a genie.
“you could just go to that cafe that just opened.” your friends turn to the voice who butted in, revealing aaron, leaning against the kitchen counter with his phone in hand.
“oh, yeah! i heard that it’s really good!” another friend butts in, smiling. the friend beside you frowns, looking at you. “are you sure you don’t want to choose this time? i mean we could let you choose—“
“no, no! it’s fine!”
4. trouble recalling commonly used words.
(you don’t remember the word you need to use, even though you’ve used it a hundred times before.)
you were pacing around your room with aaron sitting on your bed, watching you with a smile as you use your hands to exclaim your excitement about a new book you’ve read.
he always knew that books were one of your hyperfixations, and he never said no to you asking to buy piles of books.
“and then—oh my god—he literally smiled. like, he knew! he literally knew that he was going to win the case even though she worked so hard to collect—“ you cut off, trying to remember the word that you were going to use.
“uhm.. wait, what was the word—“
“proof?”
“yes! proof that he was a bastard and deserved to go to jail, but no! they just had to believe him over poor becca and nat who literally are in the fucking right! like, can you believe that?!” you rant, hitting your hand with your other hand in a chopping motion.
aaron lifts an eyebrow. “that sounds like the trial was flawed,” he says. words like that always came easy for him, which you never understood. you always had to think about easy words for some reason.
“it is! like, he’s literally so stupid and annoying—and—wait—and—irritating!” you groan, running a hand down your face.
aaron can’t help but chuckle at your aggression, hiding his smile with his hand. “shut up, aaron,” you deadpan.
5. poor sense of time.
(forgetting what time or day it is.)
oh shit, oh shit. you forgot all about this project. you quickly rush on the paper, your handwriting messy but you’re too stressed to care about that now.
you thought that it was wednesday. not thursday. how could it be thursday? you literally checked the time before and it was thursday. or was it?—you don’t remember anymore.
“angel?” aaron asks curiously, looking at your rushed state. “wait.” you continue to write down on the paper quickly, knowing that the deadline is in five minutes.
“shit, i thought it was wednesday,” you rant to aaron, continuing to scribble down words. “did you forget again?” aaron asks, though it isn’t judgmental.
“yes,” you groan, sticking your hand in your hair so you can lay the side of your face on your palm. “literally, how is it thursday?”
aaron just signs before walking closer to you, putting a hand on your back, and beginning to rub it gently in a form of comfort.
“well, now you know it’s thursday. and, you’re almost finished. even if it’s past the deadline, you’ll be finished with it quickly. don’t worry, love,” he says softly.
you glance up at him before swallowing, nodding your head softly. “yeah, yeah. thank you, darling,” you mumble, calming down. though, you still slightly rush to get through the paper so it doesn’t get late.
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queer-n-here · 2 days
Text
Fucking Sangwoo dumb because why not.
Also, I got the idea to write this fic from this piece by @karmasadistic69 Lemme know if y'all want a part 2.
Also, fair warning, this one is not gonna be romantic. At all.
Contents: Reader kidnapping and fucking Sangwoo.
Warnings: Rape, kidnapping, mature themes, mentions of murder, mentions of suicide. Like I've said before, this is gonna be darker than what I usually write, you have been warned.
Oh Sangwoo.
The one behind all those serial murders.
The public didn't know yet; the cops were running around like headless chickens trying to find him.
But you knew.
You knew everything. About his mother, about his fist murder, about every single one that had followed ever since. Even about Yoon Bum, you knew.
And you hated him for it.
Yet here he was, tied to a metal bed frame and slowly regaining his consciousness as you watched his profile.
Sangwoo lifted his head slowly, eyes blinking open as his brows furrowed in confusion. The moment he realised he wasn't anywhere he knew, his eyes widened, and he whipped his head around, trying to figure out just where he was. And that's when his eyes fell on you.
You hadn't bothered to cover your face. For one, you knew Sangwoo would never manage to get past the measures you'd taken to keep him locked in your basement. For two, you wanted him to know who was going to ruin him.
"[Name]," Sangwoo said, and you saw fear in his eyes at being at the other side of this situation. He was supposed to be the one sitting in that chair, smirking; not the other way around. "What the fuck?"
You chuckled. "Surprised, are we?"
You got up from the chair, walked over closer to him and sat down at the edge of the bed. Sangwoo tried to scuttle away, to shift back, but the chains you had put around his legs and wrists would only let him get so far.
"Let's see..." You tilted your head at him. "How does it feel to be at the receiving end of this situation? Does it excite you? Does it help you understand your victims better? Or..."
You looked down at his sweaty hands, and then at his pale face. "Does it scare you?"
Sangwoo grit his teeth. He knew what you were thinking. That's what he thought every time he dealt with a victim.
Ah, he's trying to struggle away. How fun.
But he wasn't gonna let you have that satisfaction.
"How did I get here?" Sangwoo's voice was barely stable.
"Hmm," You debated internally whether or not to be like those typical movie villains that explain their plans before failing horribly to kill the hero. And then you realised, no one's a hero here. You were both deranged.
And so you said, "D'you remember me handing you that bottle of water after your match?"
You watched as Sangwoo remembered, and his eyes grew dark with hatred, but his expression remained casual. "So that's how I blacked out... Not bad."
You chuckled at his attempt to look aloof. "Oh, please, I learned from the best."
The implication of your words hit Sangwoo in the face. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
You got up from the bed, walking over to the only barred window in the room. "It's funny, really, how the cops could never figure out it was you when you left behind all the evidence you did."
You didn't look back at him, but even in the silence you could hear the cogs of his brain turning. Should he admit to it? Or should he act like he didn't know what you were talking about?
Fuck it, if you had blackmail material on him, he had some on you, too.
"So you knew." Was the only thing he said.
"Of course I did." You turned around now, slightly excited to see his reaction. "I know everything, Sangwoo. From the body in your walls to the boy locked in your basement. Or should I say... Corpse?"
Sangwoo's face paled further, and finally, finally, a fraction of the fear he felt showed on his face.
Silence.
Then, "You killed Yoon Bum."
You laughed. "Oh, did you get attached to him?"
Sangwoo shook his head, a lie. He was attached to that boy. That's why he made him murder that bitch, so Yoon Bum could never leave him without the fear of cops. Yoon Bum was the only one he had.
He didn't love Bum, fuck no. He needed him to stay alive.
But now, he was gone, and standing in front of Sangwoo was you instead, just as insane as him, if not more.
He didn't say anything after that, and you left him to his thoughts.
The next day, you put your hands on him for the first time.
You'd thought about it many times, fuck, dreamt about it, even. And now he was here, in your hands and all yours to ruin.
When you first stripped him of his clothes, he tried to struggle. It was amusing how scared he was to have the sort of things done to him that he'd been doing to people for years now. Maybe it was because he could tell what thoughts were running through your brain, having had them himself.
You freed Sangwoo's legs, keeping his hands bound still. The next few hours were hell for Sangwoo, and heaven for you.
He gave up on struggling half-way through, using his bound wrists to hide his face instead, as if he could somehow forget you existed if he couldn't see you. His chest was heaving with each breath. As you fucked into him nice and fast, he bit down on his lips, hard, not willing to allow a single sound escape his lips to give you satisfaction.
The humiliation, the shame, the hatred he felt in those hours was so, so much more intense than anything else Sangwoo had ever experienced in his life. He wanted to kill himself, wanted to cut off each inch of his skin that you had touched. Anything, anything, if only it meant this would stop, if it meant you would stop. If it meant that he would wake up in his house again, with Bum locked up in his basement and the freedom to move his arms.
But you wouldn't let him struggle away, wouldn't even let him look away. You slapped his hands away when he tried to cover his face, and roughly grabbed his jaw to make him look at you.
"The second you break eye contact, Sangwoo," You muttered, your hips bludgeoning into his. "I won't hesitate to use these chains to choke you out of your miserable life, do you understand?"
And as much as Sangwoo wanted to die already, as much as he wanted this to end, he gulped and obeyed, lips and lashes trembling with fear.
There was no doubt that you'd do it. No doubt that you'd kill him if you got sick of him.
And so he lay there, letting you fuck him again and again and again.
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cb97percent · 1 day
Text
「Screw It」 · Chapter 2
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HIS SECOND THOUGHTS ➥ Chris is supposed to 'let loose' at the biannual depravity festival a.k.a the Sigma Kappa mixer.
➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.
➥ Installment of The Red Lights Chronicles
⚠ — Discussions of virginity (see masterlist for more)
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“How the fuck is everyone so natural at this?” Chris quickly scanned the large room, his face contorted in mild shock.
The entire place was buzzing with laughter and varying levels of sleaziness. People talking to one another way too closely, dancing a bit too intimately, licking salt off each other’s necks and what have you…
Then you had the Holmes-Watson duo at the secluded corner of the bar, looking way too serious like they were discussing politics over brandy in the late 1800s.
“Did you notice how the guys are exchanging their dick game testimonials?”
“WHAT?! No?”
“That’s because they don’t!” Jisung slid another shot glass towards his friend and raised his for a toast, “Everyone’s just following their instincts, my man. It’s called thinking with your dick.”
It was frustratingly easy to tell someone (not) to do something, wasn’t it? Oh, don’t worry about it. Change your perspective. Don’t let it get to you. Turn a blind eye. Don’t be depressed. 
Actually doing it, though? Goddamn monk patience right there.
It wasn’t like Chris was incapable of assigning the driver’s seat to his reproductive parts. If anything, his mind was way too preoccupied with it, but strictly when he was alone rather than in public functions like this. A force of habit to be ‘proper’. Every time he was about to get physical with someone, that same footage installed itself in his jumbotron inner-mind theater like a cruel foreshadowing of what was about to go down. 
Getting scarred once isn’t enough? Try the latest Christopheresque methods of self-torture for a chance to win a gift card!
In conclusion, no, he couldn’t figure out a way to ‘not let it get to him’.
He was trying, and god fucking knows he wanted to remove that bothersome splinter buried six feet under his façade, but something always seemed to conveniently get in the way.
This one’s too chatty. That one’s on TikTok. This one thinks it’s okay to say ‘irregardless’. That one wears too much lime green.
As if any of that was fundamentally important for sexual chemistry. But he couldn’t help it. 
The more time passed by, the bigger his inadequacy complex grew since he wasn’t able to, quote, ‘stack up those XP points when he could.’ Now it seemed too late like he missed some important deadline, and the whole thing was a piece of gum stuck to his shoes, continuously faltering him and making cringeworthy noises when he walked.
You. Suck. You. Suck. You. Suck.
Maybe pursuing doctoral education was just a massive overcompensation on his part, who knows? 
“It’s not rocket science, man, just…” Jisung mimed something that was supposed to be his soul leaving his body, “Let loose.”
“Let… loose,” Chris echoed his words while zoning out, but his mind was simply not cooperating with him to be present, “Shit! I needed to revise my syllabus.”
“My god you’re a nerd,” Jisung looked at him in utter disbelief, then sought help from Minho behind the bar, “Ares package. Make it two.”
While ten shots of Wet Pussies were being prepared, he examined Chris’ distracted face. Channie boy was like this for as long as Jisung knew the guy. Stubborn. Headstrong. Latching onto everything he could find to repair his pride. Of course it didn’t mean shit to be a virgin regardless of where you were in the adult timeline, but instead of admitting how much it was bothering him, Chris was pretending to be at peace with it. That was the frustrating part. And if he weren’t spectacularly failing at it, Jisung wouldn’t even consider dragging his ass to every social gathering he could find, but simply talking to the man did not seem to be working anymore. This bootleg immersion therapy was his last resort before he brought up the alternative of escorts again and risked getting punched in the face.
Or worse, another seminar on the ethics of sex work.
“Stop sabotaging yourself,” Jisung slapped him on the shoulder, “Just enjoy the moment for once.”
Why, I’d love to see a step-by-step demonstration of that, Chris wanted to loudly roll his eyes but pumped the brakes at the last second. He wasn’t even mad at Jisung. He wasn’t mad at anyone actually. The only person he loathed with a burning passion was himself for making a huge deal out of something that was supposed to be so damn trivial. He raised his shot for a silent toast and downed all five back to back to take all the residual edge off.
He didn’t want to fucking think anymore.
“She seems cool,” Jisung nodded towards a girl surrounded by what looked like the distant cousins of the Kardashians.
“I don’t think so,” Chris immediately protested, “Looks like she would livetweet it.”
“How about her?”
“GOD no. Too much Slytherin energy.”
“How is that even—?”
“Not the Lestrange kind. Pass,” Chris leveraged Jisung’s one weakness, “You know what, I thi—”
“Fucking stop overthinking this, or I’m gonna risk it all and slap the shit out of you,” he held onto Chris’ broad as fuck shoulders and harshly shook him, “Tonight we’re letting loose. Say it, what are we gonna do?”
“Let–Let loose.”
“With feeling.”
“Let loose.”
“DIG DEEP!”
“LET LOOSE!”
“Can I be a part of that?”
The duo was startled to death when they heard an unfamiliar voice next to them, not to mention right in the middle of a mortifying pep talk. The commandments of Wingmanism dictated doing the preliminary eliminations on behalf of your bro, immediately prompting Jisung to turn on his radar.
Looks? Check. Locked phone? Check. Lack of lime green? Check. 
Without giving Chris the chance to make a dumbass argument, he approved of this candidate and nudged the prospective coupling of the night towards the couch. When he turned to the bar again, he heaved a huge sigh as if he had just put the kids to bed.
“Still trying to get him laid?” Minho asked with a faded sneer.
“I’m gonna die with my eyes open if I depart this world without seeing it,” Jisung hyperbolically gestured, but one look at the gorgeous cheekbones in front of him, and his whole entire personality changed, “But more importantly, whatchu doing later tonight?”
“Damn, they don’t do pleasantries where you’re from?”
“Come on, you like me,” he leaned forward, the smile on his face impossible not to reciprocate, “Why do you drag me around so much? I’m obviously simping for you.”
“You realize I’m holding a sharp object.”
“That’s your version of batting eyelashes. Everybody knows that.”
As much as he wanted to keep the psychotically stoic mask, something about the quokka dude was just plain irresistible. Careful not to give a hundred percent of what he wanted, Minho let out a snort and darted his eyes away.
“Ask me again in two hours and we’ll see.”
Jisung triumphantly slammed his hand on the bar top, scaring the shit out of his porcelain prince, then disappeared into the crowd to mingle with some of his friends.
Meanwhile on the blue corner, Chris was midway through one of the most intense mental statistics of his life.
The girl in front of him was a total ten. He knew a couple of guys who would murder him in cold blood just to get with someone like her. One needed to have inoperable astigmatism not to notice she was encouraging him to… well, let loose. Her body language was clearly indicative of willingness. Touching his arm, playing with her hair, laughing at a genuinely unfunny joke—if he made a move now, she would leave with him. 
Ergo, p < 0.05. Possibility of score: 97%.
“Do you think we can take this somewhere… more private?” the nameless girl finally brought it up herself when Chris failed to mention anything remotely evocative of sex. It was a simple yes or no question, but he was choking harder than B-Rabbit in 8 Mile.
She was objectively so damn hot with the kind of body you would brag about in locker rooms. That was supposed to be his focal point, but he was having trouble focusing on her words, let alone being turned on. All he could think about was how this conversation couldn’t be any more boring, and he had endured a finance lecture once. Nothing was ever going to come out of bedding this girl tonight. Even her perfume smelled like the looming regret of the morning after. 
There had to be something fundamentally wrong with him at this point.
Uh oh, do something. She’s getting closer, DO SOMETHING!
“OKAY, I’m gonna go,” he jumped to his feet, giving no fucks about providing a reasonable explanation, and almost booked it towards the front door.
“Chris?” Jisung called out after him with slight concern, but Chris had half a mind to set fire to this place. Everything, everyone, all of it was suddenly too much.
“Later, bro.”
Only when he reached the safe bubble of his home did his heartbeat slow down to a normal rhythm, letting him heave a half-relieved half-disappointed sigh behind that closed door. Shower was the least of his priorities at that moment—he went straight to his room, got naked, threw himself to his bed, and started scrolling through his phone to find something to jerk off and sleep.
Art, art, gif, gif, art, text post, incorrect quote, gif, gif, art…
Then…
bassboostedjiscake reblogged: Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. Creaming guaranteed 🍦
Jisung was the horniest guy he knew, so if he dropped this on Chris’ dashboard, it must have been at least worth taking a look. He clicked on the profile thinking he was going to be greeted by Jisung’s newest favorite ‘adult content creator’ posting semi-nudes, however—
🌶️Oni @scovillescale I like pizza. And creating sexy universes.
Sexy… universes? 
The fuck did that even mean?
After scrolling through a bunch of Q&A posts, he got to the cream of the crop. Technically, yes, this was an adult content creator, but not in the format he was used to. Finally noticing what he was looking at, Chris couldn’t contain the scream bubbling up in his throat.
“This is goddamn 2D porn!”
If it weren’t for the fact that he was bored and horny that one night, he probably wouldn’t have been at this exact part of the Internet, but he was, and for a man who thought animated porn was high art, this blog was a fucking gold mine. 
His worlds had collided.
Shortly after, he found himself deep into the rabbit hole of this Oni person’s body of work. Artwork being pretty was one thing, but the story? So captivating that he couldn’t put his phone down.
“BUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!”
The last time he startled himself with his own voice was probably when he was reading one of those original choose your own adventure books. He stayed up till 3 a.m. binging one story, completely forgetting to jerk off until the very last sex scene, which depicted the female lead riding her love interest at the back of a car while choking him. The orgasm he had to that?
Fucking sublime.
Once sufficient blood started flowing to his brain again, he immediately hit follow, then fervently typed a message.
Anonymous asked: HOLY SHIT I mean it as the highest compliment possible, but I came so hard reading this. Your style is awesome and you got an instant fan. Can I be your 🍍 anon?
He didn’t even think twice before hitting Ask with the orgasm high, but all of a sudden, he remembered Jisung’s wording in that godforsaken reblog.
Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. 
My girl.
So he had just told a woman at three in the morning that he masturbated to a story she created and that he came so harfwnekjfnwfnw THAT WAS SO FUCKING INAPPROPRIATE!
Chris wanted his bed to swallow him whole, beside himself with how mortified he was. He only meant to convey his admiration, completely skipping over the fact that he wasn’t talking to one of his online bros. God, the disrespect… There was no way to edit this goddamn digital owl, let alone delete it before this turning-sex-into-art goddess saw that.
His fast-forwarded panic monologue was cut short barely a minute later. He saw the reply post on his dashboard, and it made his heart jump in his chest for no reason. 
Someone was online. At this hour.
Thank you for being so awesome! Also you got taste. Pineapple pizza slaps! #🍍 anon
The amount of relief he felt for not being called an uber creep was enough to knock him to sleep. He reread the message at least five times before putting his phone down.
“She likes pineapple pizza?” he chuckled to himself stupidly in his bed.
What a goddamn scandal.
He clasped his hands under his nape and replayed the night in his head one more time. His talk with Jisung, the encounter with the nameless girl… Some things did come naturally to some people, and Chris always found himself panicking when he tried doing the same.
Maybe he just wasn’t meant to experience some things in this life.
“Why couldn’t you be at the party tonight?” his smile trailed off into a disappointed sigh while looking at the dark screen of his phone.
⥊ TO BE CONTINUED ⥋
« PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⁞ NEXT CHAPTER »
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
For every Minho with a pudding, there is a corresponding Chris with a pineapple. I don't make the rules.
Oh, wait, I actually do.
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「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」
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✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.
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hllywdwhre · 1 day
Text
It’s Time To Go
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Pairing: Robert Fischer x fem!reader
Summary: You wait in the booth you and Robert spent your first date sitting in, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
Warnings: Uhm… angst. I don’t know how to give warnings to this without spoiling it. A lot of angst. I cried writing this. The characters don’t stop crying. Uhm. Grief, kidnapping, and death. Yeah.
Word Count: 1.5K
Notes: Seriously. Don’t read this if you’re in a bad headspace or don’t want to cry.
Robert’s face paled the first time he saw you since that fateful day.
There you were, in the booth on the opposite side of the restaurant from where he sat. You looked the same as you had that day; you were even wearing the same dress and your hair was styled the same way.
“Hun, are you okay?” The woman asked that sat opposite him.
Robert cleared his throat and tore his eyes from you before nodding his head,
“Y-yeah, just thought I saw someone,” he replied then went back to their previous conversation.
You felt your eyes burn with tears and you looked away from him, also. You had come here because you knew the restaurant was one of his favorites and you wanted to check in on him. You knew he frequented here and hoped to spot him, but now that you had, you weren’t sure why you were so concerned.
There were better things waiting for you, but you were terrified. You didn’t know what was supposed to come next now that he was with another woman and had seemingly moved on from you.
You didn’t know why you came back again. It was as if it was out of your control. There you sat again, though.
In the corner booth where you and Robert had your first date.
You spotted him when he walked in. He was alone this time and you felt your heart flutter in your chest despite the way you knew you shouldn’t.
Robert seemed to be looking for someone, and his face paled again when he saw you.
To your surprise, he walked towards you this time, sliding into the booth across from you.
Neither of you seemed to be able to look away from each other or know what to say. Eventually, he broke the silence though.
“I thought I had lost my mind the first time I saw you,” he said with a crack in his voice.
“I think I’ve lost mine… I can’t seem to stop coming back here,” you revealed with your own shaky voice.
“You haven’t aged a day,” he commented, but the tone in his voice told you that you were missing something and that this was to be expected.
“You look good. You look happy.” Some selfish part of you wished he wasn’t happy. The wedding band on his finger wasn’t one you had placed there and the selfish part of you wished that he wasn’t happy because of that.
“It took a long time, but I am,” Robert answered honestly. “After the kidnapping, I thought I’d never be happy again.”
There was a hesitancy in his voice at the mentioning of the kidnapping that you figured was normal. It was enough to traumatize anyone.
“I’m glad,” you said with a smile. Despite your jealousy, you were glad that he had found happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.
He paused for a moment. You recognized when he was struggling to say something and you could tell now that he was holding back. You resisted the urge to reach across the table and take his hand to comfort him.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he finally said.
His words sent a bolt of pain through you and you felt your eyes water again.
“W-what?” You asked, confused.
“You’re supposed to have moved on. It’s been years,” he said.
Your mouth opened, a million responses coming to your mind but none of them seeming to fit.
“I love you, Rob,” was the only thing you could manage to force out.
His eyes watered as you said the words and he looked away from you for a long moment before looking up at you again.
“I love you, too. I’ve never stopped loving you, but you’re not supposed to be here, darling.”
“What do you mean I’m not supposed to be here? You just confessed your love to me even though you’re married!” You protested, your voice rising in indignation.
“I’m here to help you move on,” he replied gently, despite your anger at him.
“How is you confessing that you love me and telling me that I’m not supposed to be here going to help me move on?” You questioned, your voice still laced with anger.
“What do you remember about the kidnapping?” He asked in response.
Your brows furrowed in confusion but you answered him anyway.
“I remember when you were taken, getting the call you were missing and feeling my heart stop in the middle of that coffee shop. I remember that I was worried sick the entire time you were gone… I remember finding you and pulling the gag out of your mouth.”
“And what after that?” He asked again.
You scoured your memory for what came after it… but you remembered nothing. You knew nothing. You remembered finding him and then you remembered walking through the door of this damned restaurant to try and find him.
“I don’t remember anything,” you said with a shake of your head.
“What day is it?” He asked this time.
Another shake of your head. You had no idea.
“It’s been seven years since I was kidnapped. Seven years since you found me,” he told you.
Seven years? There’s no way.
He read the confusion on your face and spoke before you could question him.
“I remember kissing you the moment the gag was pulled from my mouth,” he told you, pausing for a moment as he fought with himself to say the next words, “I remember kissing you and then I remember hearing a gunshot.”
You froze. You didn’t remember a gunshot. All you remembered was the relief that washed over you when you saw him and the tears streaming down your face when you got to hold him in your arms again.
“Darling… I made it out, but you didn’t. You took a bullet meant for me and you died before they could get you to the hospital.”
Spotting the way Robert now had tears streaming down his cheeks was what made you notice your own. It’s also what made you notice the pain in your chest. You went to look down and Robert’s hand was under your chin in a moment, keeping you from looking down.
“Don’t,” he warned.
You nodded your head against his hand and watched as he stood up then came and sat next to you.
“Focus on me,” he told you as he wrapped you under one of his arms and held eye contact with you.
“I-I’m,” you stuttered out, hiccuping a bit as your crying only intensified.
He seemed to know what you were trying to say and he nodded,
“Yes,” he confirmed, “and you need to move on. I want to help you through it, but you have to let go.”
“I’m scared,” you told him.
“It’s okay to be scared. Just focus on me,” he coached and his hand went to your hair. When you nodded, he continued talking.
He recounted your first date, the first time he realized he loved you, the first time he told you those words. He told you about how nervous he was to ask you to move in with him. He told you about every little detail he remembered about the life you two had begun to create together.
He told you how he met his new wife at a group to help people with their grief. He told you how she helped him through the nightmares and never seemed to be jealous that there were days where all he did was mourn you. He told you he named his daughter after you.
Neither of you could stop crying.
“It’s okay to let go, darling. You deserve better than to sit here waiting for me, and I promise that I’ll be okay,” he reassured, after a ragged deep breath.
You didn’t have the strength left in you to speak and you simply nodded your head from where it now laid on your shoulder.
“I’ll still remember you every time I say my daughter’s name. I’ll still remember you every time I see the flowerbed out front filled with your favorite flowers. I’ll still remember you in the little details that remind me of you every day,” he said as you began fading away. “I’ll always love you and I’ll never forget you.”
You could still see him sitting in the booth alone. It was from a distance now. You weren’t sure what was next, but you watched as he sat there for a long time after you disappeared until he had calmed down and eventually checked his phone. He held it to his cheek for a moment and you caught him saying something about ‘having to visit her’ and a reassurance he would be home soon.
You would always love him, the same way he would always love you, but you felt a sense of peace now.
He would be okay, and you would, too.
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tobiasdrake · 1 day
Note
Something has always bothered me about the Planet Trade Organizations that Ive always just attributed to Shounen Bad Writing, and it's that if Frieza and his ilk are so stupid powerful that they can literally destroy planets and entire species at will, what possible use could they have for money? And WHO is buying them?? Is there something I missed by never reading the manga?
I've also never liked the Saiyan culture getting conflated with the PTO in the Namek arc, I think it cheapens the world building. But my head canon is that Saiyans were employed by Frieza for long long time, to the extent that the distinction became negligible before he realized he had become dependent on Saiyan labor. Kind of like German auxiliaries for ancient Rome
Nope, you're not missing much. That's something that's rarely been touched on. It's mentioned briefly when Raditz first explains the concept to Goku.
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Frieza's customers are "other races looking for living space". What that means never got elaborated on.
The existence of the PTO implies a vast, interconnected galactic civilization and economy that we never get to see or touch on, just... out there offscreen somewhere. It's kind of disappointing that this was never built on in any way. In fact, the only time we see a planet post-gentrification, it's being used for Frieza Planet.
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The blurb calls this "Frieza Planet #79" but dialogue always just refers to Frieza Planet or Planet Frieza as a singular location.
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Vegeta, during his brief stay at 79, hints at a possible explanation for this discrepancy.
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Upon finding out that Frieza's not presently on his planet, Vegeta immediately, with visible irritation, assumes he's off to go pick out a different world in a tone that suggests this is a regular behavior of Frieza's. This implies a habit of every now and then deciding "I like this one; I'm going to make this Planet Frieza from now on" and forcing all of his men to pack up and move.
But that's the most we get of any worldbuilding about the galactic society or economy surrounding the PTO. And even that much is extrapolation off of a single line where Vegeta gets grumpy that Frieza isn't home.
For their part, I think even Toei was confused on this point; The anime seemed uncertain sometimes about whether Frieza's supposed to be the CEO of the real estate industry or the buyer that all these planets are sold to. But by the time of DBS, that Frieza is a captain of industry seems to have been figured out by all involved parties.
Overall, though some kind of galactic society is indicated by Dragon Ball's worldbuilding, the series seems disinterested in exploring it to any real degree. After Goku defeated the Strongest in the Universe, the series washed its hands of space. And that happened on a disconnected backwater planet still recovering from apocalyptic drought.
Which is honestly hilarious if you think about it. Out of nowhere, Frieza dashed off to some backwood little hick planet in the middle of nowhere and then he and every last one of his elite special forces fucking died and then the planet exploded. And nobody knows why or what the hell happened down there.
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Text
The Truth of the Matter
A Four Part Miniseries
@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Steve lay in bed, staring up at his ceiling. He had driven in silence the whole way home as he thought about Bob and still remained quiet after they all walked through the door. There had been a couple of times that he had gone into Radioshack for something, and he had thought there was something familiar about the man. Had that been the connection he had sensed? Did Bob know it, too, or was he blind to what the rune had been hiding? Did his father die not knowing that his son had been within his grasp? Steve wanted to kill the Harringtons. What was he supposed to do with his last name? How could he prove that he was a Newby? How could anyone understand that? The question was. . .was he ready to let go of a part of himself he lived with his entire life even if it wasn't real?
"I can hear you thinking over there," Eddie mumbled sleepily.
It was decided by the kids that they would just spend the night since it was so late. Steve had spent 10 minutes watching from the stairs as Eddie had spun around like a cartoon character as he tried to figure out where to sleep. He was clearly struggling to stay with the kids or to follow Steve into his room. Robin eventually joined Steve on the stairs to watch, and they giggled for a while to whisper about Eddie. Finally, Steve took pity on him and dragged him upstairs. Now, here he was, lying shirtless in bed with Steve with his cheek pressed into the other pillow and his hand placed on Steve’s chest.
"I'm just thinking about Bob. . . He never. . .he never knew I was here. Right here. . .all this time," Steve whispered.
"I'm sorry, baby," Eddie whispered.
"I don't know how to process it," Steve said, tears coming to his eyes. "I'm sorry, you can go back to sleep."
"I'm not going to sleep until you do," he said softly.
"I just keep picturing Joyce looking for Will. . .did he go through all that. . .only to come up with nothing?" Steve sobbed.
Eddie scooted across the bed and laid on his chest, holding him tightly. Steve cried into his hair and quickly cried himself to sleep. When he woke up, Eddie was gone, and he heard the sound of clattering pans downstairs. Steve rubbed his eyes and threw on a shirt he found on his floor before stumbling downstairs and into the kitchen. Eddie was sitting on the counter, sipping coffee, and wearing Steve’s yellow sweater. He handed Steve a cup and welcomed his kiss.
"I tried to cook for you, but Dustin wouldn't let me," Eddie said.
"Can you cook?" Steve asked.
"Well, no, but I wanted to do something nice for you," Eddie said.
"Poisoning him isn't the nicest thing to do, especially since he's your boyfriend!" Dustin exclaimed.
"I'm not that bad," Eddie pouted.
Steve laughed and stepped between his legs, leaning back against his chest.
"He loves cooking," Steve said. "He learned from his mom, and he loves to do it for other people."
"I know we joke, but I love that shithead like a brother," Eddie whispered in Steve's ear.
"Yeah, me too," Steve grinned.
"I heard that!" Dustin smiled.
"The others still asleep?" Steve asked, sighing.
"Very much so," Eddie said.
Suddenly, Robin wandered in, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Half of her hair was sticking up wildly.
"Coooofffffeeeee!" Robin moaned.
"And so the coffee zombie enters the room. Watch out, she's a biter!" Steve exclaimed with a laugh.
Robin glared at him and swiped his coffee. She hopped up on the island, sitting across from them.
"This is all very domestic, you know," Robin said, wiggling her eyebrows at Steve.
"I know," Steve grinned.
Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. Steve giggled.
"I hope you know that this dingus is my best friend in the whole world. He means a lot to me," Robin said to Eddie.
"You threatening me, Buckley?" Eddie asked.
"No, I just wanted you to know that it would break my heart to see him cry because of you especially since I actually fucking like you," Robin said.
"I actually fucking like you, too," Eddie grinned. "You know, you'd get along with Ronnie."
"Ronnie?" Robin asked.
"My best friend in the whole world," Eddie said. "She's in NYU right now studying to become a lawyer."
"So, you have a platonic soulmate too?" Robin grinned.
"Yeah, and I'm so fucking proud of her," Eddie said.
After breakfast was done, Steve dropped the kids off at their house. They had complained the whole way.
"But Steve, what about the address in Indianapolis?!" Dustin asked.
"Yeah, we can help," Mike said.
"As much as I appreciate it, you guys need to do your homework, and I think your parents want you back home," Steve said with a sigh. "I don't want them to think I kidnapped you."
"Too soon, Steve," Lucas said.
"What? Even though I said it, and it happened to me?" Steve asked.
"Definitely," Mike said.
Dustin was the first one to be dropped off, and then it was Lucas. Mike was the last one. He paused before getting out of the car.
"I'm sorry about Bob. . .I hope you find your mom," he said softly.
After he stormed inside, Nancy came out with. . .Chrissy Cunningham? They were talking and giggling on their way to Steve’s car. Eddie grinned and rolled down Steve’s window.
"How's it going, Big Wheels?" Eddie asked.
"I told you not to call me that," Nancy laughed as she leaned against the car.
"Oh, did you?" He asked innocently.
"What have you guys been up to?" Nancy asked. "I didn't think you liked Steve very much."
"Uh, turns out I do, very much," Eddie said, blushing. "Very friendly. Just a couple of dudes hanging out."
Steve smiled and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Eddie giggled before nodding his head.
"Eddie is now my boyfriend," Steve replied.
"That's great!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"Thanks, Chrissy, it's good to see you again," Steve said.
He stared at her, feeling a sense of familiarity that he had never felt from her before. He didn't feel like he was related to her, but. . .they were the same. Chrissy tilted her head to the side, and she looked at him in surprise before grinning, her eyes turning an inhuman shade of green. Steve felt his eyes glow, too. She was a fairy, not a relative but a fairy like him.
"How did you remove your rune?!" Chrissy asked excitedly.
"Oh, uh, a witch," Steve said. "You?"
"Same, I accidentally ran into one when I went on vacation with my parents over the summer. Although they're not really my parents, they killed my birth parents," Chrissy sighed.
"Jesus! That fucking sucks. My dad died, but I'm still trying to find my mom," Steve said.
"You're a fairy, too?" Nancy asked in surprise.
"You know about Chrissy?" Eddie asked. "How do you know about Chrissy?"
"How do you know about Steve?" Nancy asked.
"I'm the witch who removed his rune," Eddie smirked.
"Chrissy told me about herself," Nancy said.
"I didn't even know you were friends with Chrissy," Steve said.
"Well, we were friends when I was on the squad, but we recently reconnected," Nancy said, blushing.
"Nancy Wheeler was a cheerleader?" Robin asked.
"Very briefly. And I was horrible," she said.
"You were not!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"I was very distracted," Nancy said and looked meaningfully at her.
"Oh!" Steve exclaimed in surprise.
"Am I missing something?" Robin asked.
Chrissy shared a look with Nancy, and she smiled, nodding.
"Nancy and I dated when she was on the squad," Chrissy revealed.
"Oh! There's a lot more queer people in this town than I thought," Robin said with a grin. "Then again, I didn't think there were fairies or witches or an alternate dimension underneath Hawkins. I don't know which ones I'm more surprised about. I'm a lesbian, by the way."
Chrissy giggled.
"What are you guys doing now?" Nancy asked.
"Going to follow up on an address in Indianapolis that might lead to Steve’s mother," Robin said. "But first, Steve needs to drop me off so I can change my clothes."
"Me too!" Eddie yelled.
"You guys want some help?" Nancy asked.
"She can't resist an investigation," Chrissy teased.
"No, I really want to help!" Nancy exclaimed.
"Babe, I was teasing you. I know how big that heart of yours is," Chrissy said. "But you also can't resist searching for clues."
"Come along," Steve said with a grin.
Nancy grinned before rushing off towards the house. Chrissy's eyes never left her, watching as she disappeared through the front door. Chrissy smiled fondly.
"You guys are cute," Robin said.
"Thanks," Chrissy said.
A moment later, Nancy came out of the house arguing with Mike. He huffed loudly, flipped her the bird, and stormed into the house. Nancy slid into the back seat of Steve’s car with Chrissy.
"Having a little brother looks like a lot of fun," Robin said.
"Oh, yeah, you should try it," Nancy said sarcastically. "By the way, Chrissy, I was looking in my purse when I found this."
She pulled out a large magnifying glass out of her purse.
"I found that, and I thought of you," Chrissy said sweetly. "And I thought it would be funny."
Nancy smiled and leaned over to kiss her before quickly moving back again. Chrissy bit her lip.
"I can't believe I'm the only one not in a queer relationship," Robin sighed dramatically.
"You would be if you just told Vickie," Steve said.
"We don't know if she likes women!" Robin exclaimed.
"We didn't know that Nancy liked women until today!" Steve yelled as he drove off. "We didn't know I was a fairy until yesterday!"
"That's all very fair points," Robin said.
"My dad died without ever knowing what happened to me. The question you have to ask yourself. . .Is Vickie worth taking the risk?" Steve asked.
"Fine! Fine! After this, I'll make a move," Robin said.
"You know, Cunningham, this isn't the first time we've hung out," Eddie said.
"It's not?" Chrissy frowned and then paused. "You know, you do look familiar."
"It's going to come to you," Eddie replied with a smile.
"Oh! You look like the witch who took the rune off of me!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"Wait. . .what?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah, his name was. . . Oh, it was Allan!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"Oh, fuck!" Eddie cursed. "That's my dad, which means. . . My dad was the one who placed the rune on you."
"Small world," Steve said.
"Yeah, I had to pay a pretty penny to get him to do it," Chrissy said.
"Of course, you did," Eddie sighed. "My dad doesn't do anything for free, nor does he do anything out of the goodness of his heart."
"Do you think your dad's the one kidnapping the fae children?" Nancy asked.
"I wouldn't put it past him," Eddie muttered. "Fucking piece of shit that he is. Anything to earn a profit."
"Sorry," Nancy said softly and squeezed his shoulder.
Steve squeezed his hand and held it all the way to Robin's house. Robin hurried to go into her house to change and then talk with her parents. She came out with a bag of cookies.
"Mombie's famous cookies!" Robin exclaimed as she slid back into the car. "Oh, she said this is for you and to wish you good luck. She would have come out, but she tripped over the dog again."
Robin leaned over the seat and gave Steve a slobbery kiss on the cheek. When it was Eddie's turn, he was in the trailer with his uncle Wayne for the longest time. When he came out, he was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt, and his uncle was leaning against the doorway. Eddie stopped, spun around, and hugged his uncle tightly before running back to the car. He slid back into the passenger's seat with a grin and held up a baggie of sandwiches.
"He insisted when I told him Robin's mom made cookies. He can't cook for shit but he can make some pretty good sandwiches," Eddie grinned.
"Hey, how annoyed would you be if I set my mom up with your uncle?" Robin asked.
"Not very," Eddie cackled. "I LOVE your mom's cookies. Let's parent trap them."
"Done," Robin said and shook hands with him.
Steve smiled and waved at Wayne before driving out of the trailer park, heading towards Indianapolis.
"Oh, Corroded Coffin! How could I forget?!" Chrissy exclaimed, pointing at Eddie's shirt.
"I don't know, you're a freak," Eddie said, and she giggled. "My head was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet tatties so. . .easy mistake to make, especially since I didn't tell you my last name."
The older teens fell into an easy discussion on the way to Indianapolis. Nancy talked about how she thought she was a lesbian for the longest time and how when things ended with Chrissy, Nancy had been surprised to find herself attracted to Steve, to the kindness she witnessed him give to another student when he was without Tommy by his side. Nancy had discovered a new part of herself, but she didn't deny the other part either. Chrissy had talked about her crush on Eddie before knowing that he was the same Eddie from her talent show. Nancy had pretended to be jealous, but there was this understanding between them that in another life, Nancy would have been with Steve or Jonathan while Chrissy would have ended up with Eddie or perhaps even Steve. The discussions quickly turned into which celebrity they each had a crush on. Nancy also talked about her break up with Jonathan and how it went better than Chrissy's break up with Jason, how they were both there for each other afterward. . .
"We're here," Steve said.
Robin unstuck her drool covered cheek from the window. She blinked rapidly.
"Shit. . .when did I fall asleep?" Robin asked.
"Right when I was talking about heavy metal," Eddie snorted. "I'll try not to be offended."
They climbed out of the car and walked up to a small, boring looking gray house. No one would look twice at it. It was perfect for anyone trying to blend in. Steve stood in front of the door and took a deep breath before knocking. They all waited with baited breath, but no one answered. Steve knocked again, and this time, the door seemed to open on its own. It hadn't been locked or closed at all, though. They stepped into a one room, open space house with a door in the back corner leading to a bathroom, right next to the kitchen. A layer of dust indicated that a bed had been there once, as well as a couch and a desk.
"No fairy markings," Chrissy frowned, her eyes glowing green.
"Fairy markings?" Steve asked.
"Markings only fairies can see, a way for the fae to pass secrets to each other or messages to leave for their lost children," Chrissy said. "It's how I found my parents."
"You seem to know more than me," Steve said softly.
"A little more but not much," Chrissy said. "I still have so many questions."
"Yeah," Steve said softly.
They looked around the house and found nothing. Nancy took out her magnifying glass when she saw Chrissy glance her way, and she winked.
"If I'm going to investigate, I'm going to do it the right way," she said. "Thank you again for the wonderful gift, baby."
Chrissy kissed her before moving onto look for clues as well.
"Now all we need is a talking dog," Eddie said.
Steve stood in the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets as well as the drawers. He came to the last drawer and let out a holler.
"Guys!"
"What did you find?" Nancy asked.
"Part of an envelope," Steve said. "It's torn. . .no letter in it, but there is an address for a house. . . In Lenora Hills?"
Nancy hurried over and looked over Steve’s shoulder.
"Well, it's not Jonathan's house. . .so you're not related to them," Nancy said.
"I fucking hope not, I once had a sex dream about you and Jonathan," Steve said.
"What?!" Nancy exclaimed.
"Focus, baby," Chrissy giggled.
"Well, I guess we're going to Lenora Hills. . ." Eddie grinned.
"All of us are going?" Steve asked.
"Yes!" Nancy, Chrissy, and Eddie exclaimed.
"Lenora Hills, it is then. . . How the fuck are we going to get there?" Steve asked. "Not all of us can afford a plane ticket."
"Magic, sweetheart, magic," Eddie whispered in his ear.
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gunilslaugh · 22 hours
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Need Some Help Darling Pt.3
Kwak Jiseok Summary: You found yourself in trouble and needed to call Jiseok. (non-idol au) WC:~1.6k Warning:none 
part 1 part 2
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photo not mine credits to owner.
Ring! Ring! Ring! Your phone rang, it was a call from your dad. He told you that he would be working late tonight, so you figured he was probably calling to check in. 
“Hello,” you said, answering the call. 
“Your dad is drunk and needs to be picked up. Can you come get him?” An unfamiliar voice spoke. Drunk? He was supposed to be at work. Why would he lie about going out to drink?
“Uh…yeah I can come get him. Where is he at?” The guy on the other side of the phone told you the location. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you arrived at the location you began to feel uneasy. It seemed like a really sketchy place. You thought about leaving, but your dad was supposed to be here, so you took a calming breath and kept walking. You arrived in front of a neon sign that read the name of the location. Despite your gut telling you not too, you entered the building. 
“I was called to pick up my dad. He’s drunk,” you said upon entering the place. You didn’t walk too far inside the place, opting to stay close to the door. 
“Ah yes, we’ve been expecting you. Your dad is resting in the back. You can go get him.” A guy behind the counter tells you, guesting to a curtain that leads to the back. You looked at the curtain with an untrusting look. The guy behind the counter chuckles. “Or I could go get him if you don’t want to go back there,” he says. 
“Please,” you ask. The guy gives you a nod then makes his way to walk through the curtain. 
“Come on get up. Your kid’s here to pick you up.” The guy's tone makes your stomach twist in knots. It sounded condescending. You found yourself pulling out your phone and opening up Jiseok’s contact. “Here he is.” The man returns with two other guys who are dragging your father out,  your stomach drops. Your dad is badly beaten. “Dad! What’s going on?” you asked, going to your dad’s side. Your dad tries to shove you away.
“Go, run,” he says weakly. 
“They can run, but I don’t think they’ll make it far. This is your fault anyway. You signed the deal remember, if you fail to pay back your debts your child is collateral.” The guy smiles at you sinisterly. 
“Dad, what did you do?” you question. 
“Run, I’m sorry, but please go. Get out of here,” he tells you.
“Your dad had been partaking in illegal gambling. He’s not very good at it. Seems like it’s time to pay the consequences.” The man looks at you with foe sympathy. 
“Run,” your dad repeats. 
“Go on go. Listen to your father. I'll give you a head start.” The guy smirks at you. You take one last look at your dad and rush out of the building. 
You’re quick to hit the call button on Jiseok’s contact. The ringing feels like it lasts forever as you round a corner looking for a place to hide. Then you hear the line pick up. 
“Jiseok?” You say with a quivering voice. 
“What is it darling?” Jiseok asked.
“I need help,” you sniffed.
“What happened? Where are you? Are you hurt?” Jiseok’s questions followed each other rapidly. 
“I’m scared. Someone called asking me to pick my dad up-” you hiccup. “B-because he was drunk, but when I got there my dad was beaten up and they said I was collateral for him not paying his debts. Jiseok I really need you,” you say. You can hear rustling on the other side of the phone. 
“Where are you darling?” he asked you. 
“I’m hiding. I ran and now I’m in some alley way hiding between a brick wall and a dumpster,” you tell him. 
“Send me your location. I’ll come get you darling. It’ll be ok,” he tried to calm you. 
“I’m scared,” you repeated as you sent your current location to Jiseok.
“It’s ok darling. I’m coming right now. I’ll be there soon. Stay on the phone with me ok?” he tells you. 
“Ok,” you say. You pulled your knees into your chest. You feel hyper aware of everything. The brickwall that’s poking into your back. The pebbles digging into your bottom. The cool metal of the dumpster pressing against your shoulder. You can hear footsteps getting closer. “Jiseok I can hear footsteps,” you panicked. 
“I’m almost there, it's ok. I need you to be really quiet darling.” You nodded your head even though he couldn’t see it. You put your hand over your mouth and nose to muffle your labored breathing. The footsteps slowly started to fade away. Allowing you to relax a little.
“They're gone,” you informed. 
“Good. I’m really close. Just stay where you are,” he told you. Jiseok will be here soon. Jiseok will be here soon. You kept repeating to yourself in an effort to calm down. Suddenly you heard footsteps again and they were getting closer. 
“Jiseok’s someone’s coming.” Once again panic filled your veins. “Jiseok!” you repeated his name again when he didn’t answer. 
“It’s me darling.” You lifted your head up to see Jiseok standing in front of you.
“That’s not funny. I told you I was scared!” you let out a cry. Jiseok crouches down and helps you stand up. 
“I know. I’m sorry. You’re ok now darling, I got you.” You fell against him. Your tears soaking his shirt. Jiseok’s arms come around your waist, holding you tight. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He holds you close to his side as he guides you out of the alley way.
“Now what brings you to my part of town Jiseok?” You heard the sound of that guy's voice again. Jiseok tightens his grip around you. 
“I’m picking my darling,” Jiseok speaks casually. 
“Your darling? Hate to break it to you, but they belong to me now,” the guy states. Jiseok laughs. 
“The only person they belong to is me. You want to collect them as collateral, but how do you think I got them? Their father failed to pay me back, so I took them,” Jiseok bluffed. “They already belonged to me when their father signed that contract with you, so hate to break it to you, they’re mine,” Jiseok mocked them. 
“How about we share them then? We used to be partners. For old times sake?” the guy suggested. 
Partner? Jiseok used to work with this guy? He worked or works in illegal gambling?
Jiseok scoffed, “You know I’m possessive over what’s mine. That’s why we went our separate ways isn’t it? Cause you were spending my money, taking my profit,” Jiseok glared at the guy. “I won’t let you anywhere near them.” Jiseok took a step in front of you, hiding you behind him. “You clearly have some business to figure out. I’m leaving with my darling now.” Jiseok wraps his other arm around you just for good measure as he continues to lead you to his car.  
Once you two are at his car he opens the door for you and helps you in before running around to the other side to get in himself. 
“Are you ok?” He turned to look at you. 
“What about my dad?” you looked at him. Jiseok reached to take one of your hands. 
“I’ll send some of my men to take care of it ok?” he told you.
“Thank you,” you say. 
“You don’t need to thank me darling. As long as you’re ok. That’s what I care about,” he states. He starts the car and begins to drive.
“Can you take me back to your place?” you asked, stunning Jiseok. 
“You don’t want to go home?” he asked. 
“I do, but I also don’t want to see my dad just yet. I’m worried about him, but I’m also mad at him,” you explained. 
“Well I’m not gonna complain about being with my darling,” he states happily. He turned to smile at you and you smiled back. “I was scared too,” he admits, squeezing your hand that he was still holding. 
“You were, why?” you questioned. 
“I was scared you would get hurt,” he said. 
“Why do you care about me Jiseok?” you asked another question. 
“Cause you’re my darling,” he answered simply. You laughed. 
“But why am I your darling?” 
“Cause I love you,” he confessed. Your hand went slack in his. 
“Huh?” you let out. Jiseok laughs brightly. 
“I love you. It’s a bit surprising right? I fell in love with you when you called me an asshole. I felt the need to protect you ever since I kidnapped you, ironically enough,” he chuckled. 
“I always feel safe with you,” you revealed, squeezing his hand. Jiseok smiled. 
“Good, cause you’re always safe with me.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your delicate knuckles. It makes your heart flutter. 
“You may be a bad guy to a lot of people, but you’re not one to me,” you tell him. 
“What am I to you then?” he asked playfully. 
“My asshole,” you joked. 
“Hey!” Jiseok complained, making you laugh. 
“Ok, ok, ironically enough you’re my hero. You always come when I’m in trouble,” you say. 
“You're a knight in shining armor?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded. “My knight in shining armor who makes me heart swoon,” you disclose. 
“If I wasn’t driving right now, I’d kiss you,” he said. Succeeding in making your heart race. 
“Then pull over,” you say feeling brave. You didn’t have to tell Jiseok twice as he wasted no time in pulling over to the side of the road. Before you knew it his lips were on yours. 
Jiseok may be a bad guy, but he’s definitely not the bad guy of your story.
A/N: And with that this little series has come to an end. Writing villain xdianry heroes is so fun.
part 1 part 2
Taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143
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she-walked-away · 1 day
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Do you have any theories to share with the class? I remember the Huntington's theory you had came true!
I have A LOT OF THOUGHTS and thankfully @thisbuildinghasfeelings indulges them and helps me map them out.
I think the biggest theory I have is Carlos has a new job- but I have like 2-3 theories on what it is and why. They've been hinting at a career change for him for like 3 seasons at this point. Do I think it will stick? idk
I think my main theory is that Carlos is working dispatch or something along the lines of that. I know it seems kind of random, but if Carlos isn't going to be police anymore- he will most likely still be in a first responding position because that's just how the 911 verse works. The thing that kind of helps me with this theory is that Rafa talked about it being something different than he has ever done before and I think anything Texas Ranger-y is too similar to what he's done before with police and the detective stuff.
Also the angst hoe in me wants Carlos to be on dispatch and hear TK get injured (as told he gets injured at the Chicago con) and be able to do nothing about it because he's not there. Also- more grace and carlos scenes PLEASE!
Second theory is that he's working undercover on Gabriel's murder case- which ALSO fits being different than anything Rafa's done before. We do know that figuring out what happened to him is supposed to be apart of the season, as told by a cameo from earlier this year and that Carlos has a five episode arc- which I'm assuming and i know you're not supposed to, is about that. My supporting theory about that is kind of what Jen's ( @strandnreyes) V-day fic was about. Like Carlos is living somewhere away from TK- but I'm kind of theorizing that they meet up every episode or 2 to check in with each other and have *steamy* scenes. Kind of fits with Brian talking about how relationships kind of turn on a head and imagine they act like they're apart through the first episode and we see them reunite at the end happily in love but carlos undercover!
This also culminates to Carlos either seeing or hearing about TK getting hurt and he cannot react. I want the ANGST. The evidence for this one other than just speculating is I have a theory that the party at the loft where they were all nice and fancy in the Cameo vid is a "welcome back" Carlos party and TK makes a spectacle of putting Carlos' wedding ring back on him because they're THAT cheesy in love. (the easy answer was that he wasn't wearing it yet before they film but i'm taking it a step further).
I think these are the main ones I have now just for carlos and tarlos, so I'll be curious if they pan out! Basically if they're making TK get injured again- they better indulge my angst whore ways and have Carlos be unable to do anything about it and see him internally or externally freak out because Rafa is so good at that and it's just *different* now that they're husbands.
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AI Bracket — Round 2
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Propaganda
Imogen (Stellar Firma):
#IMOGEN 💥💥💥💥💥 #she invented a guy to just put them in situations that she couldnt do herself bcs she is . an ai . #she gave this guy to the most horrific man known to anyone and the only help she gave him was . giving him almost the same rights as humans #not according to anyone else but to her yeah #shes an ai who didn't want to work for big evil human corp so she made a guy who could let her not do that #i love her sm #i cannot hear the words ' watch it buster ' without thinking of her #shes soooooo <33333 #man i should relisten to stellar firma i miss her
The Audio Tour Guide AKA Mistholme (The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality):
The ATG is a sentient museum audio tour guide for a museum full of spooky artifacts. It is both completely lovely and kind of bitchy
Sentient AI who is a real sweetie. Got pulled into too many adventures after the museum went on lockdown. Gives tours most of the time but is also the museum now and oversees daily goings on
A magic/tech hybrid AI exploring its own personhood and sentience as it grows. Could easily take over the museum it has become a part of but is a very kind soul. Most demanding it has ever been was convincing its friend to pat a cat for it.
It's a tour guide in an alternatural museum. After facing some challenges and dealing with huge problems, guide learns new things about itself and the world around it and makes new friends. Its woe is trusting people (or not only people), forgetting that they might have bad intentions. Guide is the bestest friend ever.
Where do I even begin? The Guide literally exists on those audio tour devices, go look it up its so cute. It had to deal with its growing sentience and new emotions basically on its own. Was treated terribly by the human museum staff and it had to basically debate them until they accepted its new-found personhood (but it still uses it/its yayy)(the staff have since apologized for their actions and treat it equally now). At some point it was hooked up to the museum mainframe which was supposed to be temporary, but as it turns out The Guide is actually great at running the museum and would like to stay this way. This eventually leads to a small identity crisis since it now sees itself as the museum itself, and its consciousness and responsibilities are a lot grander than when it was just a tiny little tour device. But it's figuring that out, and it still likes being the museum, thus The Guide also counts as a sapient location! It becomes besties with a creepy bloodthirsty creature because they share the struggle of being constantly dehumanized. It fucked around with the fae and found out. It has to deal with time travel bullshit. It loves cats! It got to hang out with the embodiment of knowledge itself. And did I mentioned that throughout all of this it still gives museum tours to guests?!! what a cool guy!
Guide my beloved <3 (platonic)
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