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#one thing that tends to throw things off (and this is a problem i had in my last style challenge too) is the eyelashes
beatrixstonehill2 · 5 months
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"Is my punishment almost over?" Emily asked her boyfriend, Joey.
"No, not yet, baby girl..... I think you need to learn your lesson a bit longer."
"But....! The tournament is in a month. How can I perform like this?"
"Not my problem.... You should've thought of that before being such a naughty girl, Emily."
Joey wasn't wrong, in a way..... Almost a year ago he started dating an Olympic silver medalist gymnast, who was known the whole world over for her skill and dexterity. Shortly after dating her, though, he was sent something damning by a random person online.... At the time, Emily was basically flat chested, yet had a cute butt and tended to give the cameras sensual, flirty looks, often blowing kisses and winking at the camera, sometimes bending over unnecessarily to give the people filming her something to zoom in on.....
Turns out when pervy guys reblogged these clips and admitted to masturbating to her performance, she would reply, happily encouraging them. On her official account, zero shame, her with the silver medal as her avatar. She'd tell these random men to 'milk their cocks good' and 'cum real hard for her tight little ass', like some porn star. Joey saw this and was very amused..... So, he decided Emily had to be punished--badly. He told her she had to obey him and take breast growth pills, to give the next national gymnastics tournament before the Summer Olympics a good show.
"I'm sorry, Joey..... you know I can't help myself. I love to flirt."
"Which just tells me how badly you need to be punished. Look at this one I found! Some random married guy posted that he wants to throw you in his van, hogtie you, and put 'a pile of kids in your pretty gut'. Did you block him....?"
She shook her head. "No....."
"Oh wait, you went on an extended RP session in the public comments about how he was going to abduct and rape you. Damn, you're one messed up girl."
"Messed up as a guy that makes his girlfriend grow a pair of boobs that weigh 50lbs each? Knowing she's a gymnast!"
"Nah, not as bad. But hey, think of all the hot interactions you'll have on Instagram now! You're gonna step out, not in your leotard, but a bikini, these gigantic udders spilling out. And you'll do your routine.... as well as you can. Think of how many guys are gonna jerk off to that."
"Fuck.... that's so hot." Emily bit her lip, fondling her pussy and breasts. "They're so heavy.... I look like an idiot with these things....."
"Well, you are an idiot. A horny, drooling idiot, too obsessed with fondling that swollen pussy of yours to care whether or not millions see you flirt with married men and RP getting knocked up by them."
"I'm.... it's just a little addiction, is all. I could try therapy...."
"Nah, I think you deserve to be nothing but walking jerk-off fodder. You're done being a real athlete. They'll just have you on because your oversized, goofy looking udders will make so many desperate, horny men tune in. And a whole bunch of normies to make fun of you."
"Fuck you.... you find these tits sexy..... You just came so hard inside me!"
"Well, I find them less sexy than I do the fact that I made you grow them. Understand?"
She nodded obediently. "Yes, master."
"Good girl, now, isn't it going to be fun watching you balance those giant tits and a belly full of my kids at the next tournament? Damn, by the time the Olympics roll around, those tits will weigh 100lbs each. Won't that be so fitting? I can't wait to see you even try to perform..... Then your career will be sitting on OnlyFans, immobilized by those cartoonish udders, masturbating all day like the drooling, horny idiot you really are deep down. You'll be flirting with your desperate, gross fans, all of your regular fans won't want anything to do with you as you sit there ten hours a days fondling yourself, surrounded by a pair of tits too big for you to carry on your own....."
"Fuck you...."
"Don't act like you don't agree. You aren't an athlete Emily, you aspire to be nothing but walking jerk-off material. So you might as well go for gold, isn't that right?"
Emily bit her lip, rubbing her heavy breasts. "Then I better go for 200lbs each...... be totally trapped by these things...."
"Now that's the perverted little idiot I love."
"I aim to please, Master. ❤️"
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nobodyfamousposts · 5 months
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Do you think people cling on too much to Adrien's high road advice as a reason to salt on him?
Yes, especially when there are plenty of other reasons to salt him that have previously been ignored. But to that end, it DOES serve as the final straw for people after a SERIES of problems that had previously gone unaddressed.
Much like many aspects of the show, Adrien has displayed problematic behaviors that have been overlooked and waved off in the earlier seasons. This is likely or especially due to the way how in each and every incident, Adrien was narratively shown to be correct. In his stance. In his choices. In his behaviors. He was always right. It doesn't matter if he shouldn't be, because he is.
Now unless you're a hater or anti or salter or whatever negative name people tend to get for not liking a story as it's presented, readers and watchers tend to follow along with the narrative as it presents things and how it presents things. It's a common setup in any story. Protagonist Centered Morality, I feel framed best by Susan in the Discord series:
Susan: ...and then Jack chopped down the beanstalk, adding murder and ecological vandalism to the theft, enticement and trespass charges already mentioned, but he got away with it and lived happily ever after without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done. Which proves that you can be excused anything if you're a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.
Pretty much this. Most people will follow what the narrative says because it's the narrative. If the narrative wants you to focus on Marinette being embarrassed, you're going to focus on how much she's cringe. And if the narrative wants you to view Adrien as a perfect sunshine boy who never does anything wrong, anything he does is going to be framed through that lens and it's difficult to break from that view and call out the times when he is wrong. Not unless he does something particularly severe.
It should be noted that outside of Chameleon, Adrien had, among other things: lied to his partner, caused someone to get akumatized and had his partner take the blame, was messing around during life-threatening and city-threatening situations, did nothing as Chloe tormented people right in front of him, DEFENDED Chloe after she tormented people right in front of him, bailed on an event with friends to set up a date with someone who said she had other plans and then got mad at HER for it, tried to flirt or confess in the middle of an active crisis which took necessary attention away from said crisis, caused himself AND his partner to get hit by akuma powers and needlessly be taken out of commission.
And yet people could mostly overlook these instances. They weren't his fault. Chloe is his friend. Marinette is worse. He's just a kid. He has a tragic backstory. So on and so forth. Easy to overlook. Easy to ignore in favor of the Sunshine Boy setup people were given and want to believe in.
But there were three major instances that really grabbed people's attention and stayed:
His attitude in Frozer. It probably wouldn't have been so bad except this rejection already happened in Glaciator, where he was supposed to have learned a lesson and accepted just being Ladybug's friend and now apparently didn't, despite it happening earlier that very season. Then in response, he decides to date Kagami as a rebound, drags Marinette with him on his date (without realizing how he's asking his friend to be a third wheel on a DATE) and focuses on her when he's supposed to be with Kagami, throws another tantrum in the middle of an akuma fight and refuses to work with his partner when the city is literally frozen, and requires Ladybug to apologize to him for hurting his feelings before he finally working with her. Again. But okay, he's a teenage boy in love. Not used to rejection and got his feelings hurt. Lovesquare is endgame so of course it'll work out anyway, so it's not like this bump in the road is really going to matter long term so we shouldn't hold it against him. Fine. Dumb, but fine. We've forgiven it in other shows and other poorly done teen romances, we can forgive it here.
His behavior in Syren in which he demanded to know secrets from people when the secrets were not theirs to tell him, and went so far as to attempt to blackmail his kwami (which was funny) and threaten to quit and abandon the Ring that the big bad is after while the city is flooded and people were trying to not drown (which was decidedly less humorous). But it was played for wholesome when Plagg reassured him and he got what he wanted by Fu revealed himself even if Adrien did nothing to actually show he earned it, so all's well that ends well, I guess? And people could justify it because "they're partners" and "part of a team" and "she should trust him" and "it's not fair he's the only one left out of the loop" and "he has a right to know" and just general "Fu is an idiot" (which is admittedly hard to argue). So people were disgruntled, but most were willing to overlook it.
His holier than thou lecture to Marinette in Maledictator over everyone being happy Chloe was leaving. When all Marinette was doing at the time was watching everyone else have fun. When Adrien specifically guilted Marinette and not any of the other actual partiers involved who were literally throwing a party over his friend leaving and probably should have warranted a lecture more than the girl just standing there. When the girl in question was also Chloe's main target and out of everyone had valid reasons to be happy that her bully won't be around to bully her anymore. When Adrien himself has historically been present to witness Marinette being targeted including twice he witnessed Chloe attempt to steal from Marinette, once he witnessed her try to blackmail Marinette, and numerous other times when she actively caused harm to Marinette and others. When Adrien then proceeded to sit in a corner and pout rather than do anything else or just leave if the party really bothered him. When Adrien, if he really cared so damn much, could have gone after Chloe himself! Or y'know...have stood up for Chloe earlier when she got upset in the first place. But fine, okay, Chloe is his childhood friend. So maybe he's just being biased and oblivious to the fact that his "friend" is a horrible person. But people can excuse and justify it in that they are friends and friends support each other, and the longer someone is friends with someone else, the harder it is to break from them. And that Marinette was probably just the target of his lecture because she was the one there in the moment (and the only one who would listen without arguing). And her calling Chloe useless was "mean" despite it being quite frankly the least of what she could have said about her in the moment (coughcough theft cough blackmail cough punished the entire school cough TRIED TO CRASH A TRAIN AND NEARLY KILLED HER AND HER PARENTS COUGH-FREAKINGCOUGH). Fine. Childhood friend means Adrien supports her in all her horrible and even deadly actions. Frustrating, but again, able to be explained and you can see where he's coming from.
These are all things that definitely got Adrien some side eye at best and some detractors at worst.
BUT if you really think about it, all of these examples are objectively worse than his lecture to Marinette in Chameleon. Not accepting being told "no" and continuing to chase a girl who isn't that in to him (while leading on another). Putting lives at risk over personal wants that could quite honestly wait until AFTER the crisis is over. Defending someone who is harmful and guilt tripping the victims. Compared to those, telling someone to leave a liar to their lying seems relatively minor.
So why this? Why here? Why is it Chameleon that has people saying enough is enough? Why is it this episode that is causing the sunshine boy to be so tarnished and the subject of salt in fan fiction?
Because this is the time when it couldn't be rationalized. There wasn't even a valid sensible canon-based reason for his stance. The arguments that Adrien "knew confronting her wouldn't work" or that he "handled her like paparazzi" or that he "knew Marinette previously failed when she tried" (even though he wasn't there and didn't know) or that he "didn't think anyone would believe him" don't come from canon. Those were fan arguments made after the fact to justify him after the base was broken and the outcry became too much to ignore.
This case didn't have any of the ties or rationales of the previous incidents. Adrien wasn't defending himself or his place in a partnership. He wasn't fighting for his love or his dream or an outcome he wanted and that we all knew was coming—if anything, he was fighting against her. He wasn't defending a friend like he did with Chloe—I mean, it's pretty evident he doesn't even really know or like Lila at this point, and for all intents and purposes, this is apparently only the second day he actually had any interaction with her. There was no notable reason Adrien really had for why he essentially chose to protect Lila over literally anyone else as she wasn't a friend and it wasn't in his interests to protect her from a consequence that wouldn't hurt her short term as much as it would likely harm everyone else long term.
And yet, he still defended her and her freedom to lie. Over Marinette. Over Ladybug. Over his friends. Over any sense of right and wrong he seems to have no problem throwing around when it comes to Marinette/Ladybug. Which seems like he targets her 9 times out of 10 compared to pretty much anyone else by this point. So it's little wonder then that people who didn't already hate the lovesquare because of the cringe factor from Marinette started to hate it for being incredibly unhealthy given that their relatively limited interactions tend to involve him lecturing her for failing to live up to his double standards that only seem to apply to her in any given situation.
This incident by itself doesn't seem like much, but when looked at as part of the series as a whole, it's when people couldn't keep overlooking this trend. Where he seems to admonish the wrong person. Where he acts like a mouthpiece rather than a person. Talks like he’s wise in a situation he seems to have a childish and one-sided view of. Acts like a brat but is treated as though he has no accountability in the situation he causes. Where he is wrong but no one and certainly not the narrative acknowledges it (not until season five and two seasons too late when it doesn't matter and he's still not the one facing consequences for it).
And it's not like he actually follows the stances he himself promotes. In Chameleon, canon presents him with this idealistic stance that Lila could change if given a chance, except he doesn't give her a chance. He doesn't push her to be a better person. He doesn't support or in any way help her to be the better person he insisted to Marinette she could be. He also doesn't do anything or warn anyone when she keeps lying and actively harms the people he says he cares about. He doesn't do anything one way or the other other than some lackluster encouragement to stop lying and a warning that goes nowhere. It just further gives credit to the argument that Adrien either simply doesn't care about other people, or that he doesn't care for Marinette specifically. Neither is conducive to the lovesquare or the increasingly tarnished view of the "sunshine boy".
And it could have worked. Canonically and intrinsically to his character. His idealism and trust in the wrong person comes back to bite him. He learns and grows from it. Except that, much like with nearly everything he does in canon, Chameleon set it up that Adrien was the writers' mouthpiece and thus was not "wrong". I'll grant that they did have him admit it and apologize to Marinette for it two seasons later, but it is pretty evident that during Chameleon, they intended his lecture to be right, with no foreshadowing and no implication otherwise. And I'm fairly certain they only backtracked and had him do that much because of the amount of fan outrage over the episode.
So yes, I think his lecture in Chameleon was really a final straw since unlike Chloe, Adrien has NO relationship with Lila to justify his defense of her. Especially when the argument is in favor of letting her lie to the people he's supposed to care about. That combined with how jarring it was how most of the class just sided with Lila over the seat issue in the first place, and I think people were less inclined to just ignore the problems in the episode specifically and with the series as a whole as they were compared to the first and second seasons. Not just with Adrien, as we see that Alya also started getting more callout and salt since then as well as more retrospective scrutiny over her behavior in earlier seasons.
But yeah...Chameleon was where things seemed to take a 180, so it's bound to be the deciding episode and deciding incident that sticks out in people's minds with these characters. That's probably why it ends up the go-to for salt and complaints on the characters involved instead of any of the other incidents that would arguably warrant it more.
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xanasaurusrex · 4 months
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plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,
clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)
y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.
y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.
during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.
the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.
y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.
whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.
since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.
it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.
unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.
the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.
capture the flag.
one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.
a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.
clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.
it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.
a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.
y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.
clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.
she could barely takes her eyes off her.
thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.
that would've been awkward....
when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.
strange... how things pan out....
when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.
as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.
"so, what's our game plan?"
her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.
it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.
during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.
clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.
"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.
clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.
"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.
but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.
y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"
clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.
the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.
clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.
as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.
clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.
she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.
clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.
"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.
y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.
all the air left clarisse's lungs.
with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.
neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.
this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.
unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.
clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.
for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.
the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.
once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.
y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.
y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.
"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.
clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.
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torasplanet · 3 months
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❝𝙔𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙊𝙉𝙎.ᐟ❞
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K. RYUGUJI + F. READER + T. MITSUYA
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; its the year of the dragon and a celebration occurs for taka and kenny from their personal red envelope;)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, final timeline, kenny is ur bf (srry emma..), threesome, praise, dp(double penetration), anal, petnames(baby, babydoll), reader wears dress, unprotected sex (i really need to write protected damn😭), spit as lube, idk pretty vanilla and skin color not mentioned
marls notes 2 u(*´▽`*) ; ik this is so late from new years but i got this idea from a tiktok like five days after new yrs haha so this is a lunar new yr special since i celebrate !!
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It was a new year, new feelings, new resolutions, new everything! And of course, the entirety of your friend group just had to throw a big ass party with you being one of the many that planned it and of course, the one to make it actually look good and not just a bunch of non-matching decorations being thrown across the room like Mikey and Baji were going to.
Well, Mitsuya was a part of that too and you two worked together to decide the perfect color coordination for the party which is where these new feelings came in. See, Mitsuya has always been attractive; you could never deny that, no one could but something just changed.
He was looking better than usual but you couldn’t find anything about his appearance that physically changed to make him look better. It was like he started glowing for some unusual reason and the glow made him prettier. Of course, you felt bad for finding him so attractive recently because you were dating Draken, his best friend.
However, when thinking about it, you started to feel a little less awful for your feelings because you remembered that Draken had talked about wanting a threesome multiple times but never came up with someone to do it with. He thought Mikey wouldn’t do it and it’s not like he exactly wanted him to because Mikey tended to just sleep around instead of getting in relationships so…it’s self-explanatory. Takemichi obviously couldn't do it, he’s married and Chifuyu damn sure would not, he has too much respect for Draken and you to even be comfortable in that conversation.
Anyone else was off the table for him and for you but neither of you ever considered Mitsuya. Maybe if you brought him up or hinted toward that, Draken might say yes.
The third person in this threesome being Mitsuya made so much sense. You knew him so well and you guys were close, he and draken were extremely close even sharing a tattoo and he was such a gentleman meaning he’d treat you with the utmost respect which was a big thing Draken was worried about. He was also single so there was a chance he’d say yes.
The only problem was that…you just didn’t know how to approach your boyfriend about all of this. So you spent the whole party talking and not saying a word about this while also sneaking peeks at Mitsuya throughout the night and with the more you were around Senju (she kept passing her blunt to you and doing shots with you), the more you got sloppy with the looks.
When Izana suggested that they take this party to Ran and Rindou’s club, you were so quick to agree as you wanted to party but yet, you were at the bar staring at Mitsuya while babysitting a cup that Senju had given you to hold before running off which you were taking small sips at because she obviously wasn’t coming back being too busy throwing ass on some guy.
You stared at the lilac-haired male as he chatted with Baji, your thighs clutching close together at the sight of him but when you felt eyes on you causing you to shift your gaze, you got incredibly embarrassed making eye contact with Draken especially when he grinned at you.
Turning your head and instead focusing on the liquid in the cup. Your face heated up when you heard his loud footsteps even over the loud music hoping he didn’t see that but oh he did. Draken had seen all of the glances you gave to Mitsuya no matter if they were careless or an attempt at being secretive and he kind of knew what you were thinking. He hoped he knew and it wasn’t just a guess that happened to be wrong.
His long arm draped around your shoulder and he pulled your body to his “Hey baby, you okay?” Draken asked. The strong smell of his signature cologne filled your nose while you avoided eye contact with him at all costs so he wouldn’t see the embarrassment and neediness in your eyes “Yeah…just waiting for Senju.” You muttered hoping he wouldn’t pick up on everything and just the weirdness.
Draken grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him with ease making your thighs quake. He stared at you for a second before grinning. He had discovered your thoughts.
“Looks like she’s gon’ be a while baby. Wanna come over there with me?” Draken asked laughing gesturing his head over to the spot in the club he was just at with Mikey and Baji but you just looked away from his eyes laughing a little with him while shaking your head but you didn’t say anything so the conversation went silent as soon as the laughter stopped.
Was this the time to ask Draken about it? Or were you just high and a little drunk? Well, you were definitely that but what if it was both? Nothing would happen…Draken would never judge you especially not about something like this that you’ve talked about before so what’s the harm? He already saw the want in your eyes.
You glanced back over at Mitsuya before looking back up at Draken “You and Takashi have the same tattoo, right?” Yeah, Draken definitely knew what you were thinking now that you had said that.
You knew the answer to that question and you were just asking that to bring up the topic of Mitsuya nonchalantly “Yeah, baby you know that.” Draken said with another chuckle coming from his mouth dropping his hand from your chin as you shuffled in place as if there were a fire in your pants. Your gaze was on your feet which were strained from the straps of your heels then you looked up at Draken through your eyelashes still keeping your head down.
“So, you guys doing anything special after this? I mean, it’s the year of the dragon now…” You said knowing that if Mitsuya had overheard it, he would’ve commented that the Chinese Lunar Year isn’t celebrated until February but it was basically the same. He would know what you mean. “No, you had an idea or somethin’?” The black-haired male asked leaning down to get closer to you as if he couldn’t hear you over the loud music but he could, he just wanted to hear whatever you said loud and clear. Shrugging your shoulders as you put your lips to the cup sipping at it minorly just to conceal your face from your boyfriend more “Maybe a party.” You muttered into the cup but Draken heard you and grinned. Draken understood not only what you were talking about but what your mindset was. Bringing up such a nasty topic as a gift for the Lunar New Year while wearing a red dress.
You were going to be the red envelope given to the two dragons. Whether you did it on purpose or not didn’t matter because it still meant the same and Draken liked it.
His hand went to the small of your back and began to rub over it gently “Gonna plan it for me, baby?” You nodded almost immediately putting the cup down so you could look at draken better to make sure he truly got what you were getting at. “Think Mitsuya would like that?” You nod. “Let’s ask him,” Draken said before leaning up and turning to where Mitsuya was talking with Izana. You leaned closer to your boyfriend watching Mitsuya as he did. Draken called him over and you nearly smiled at how Mitsuya’s head turned side to side like a deer before a smile crawled onto his pink lips once he spotted Draken.
Mitsuya walked over to the two of you after excusing himself from the conversation “Baby, why don’t you tell Mitsuya what you told me?” Draken said glancing down at you and then back at his best friend whose lavender gaze traveled to your form waiting for you to talk. “Well…I thought that since you and Kenny both have dragon tattoos, you both should have a party for the new lunar year.” You said as loud as you could manage without anyone out of the conversation hearing. Mitsuya’s eyes showed intrigue and a bit of confusion.
He picked up on your demeanor. How you looked at him, the way you leaned into Draken with your legs pressed against each other. Mitsuya couldn’t describe it at all but he just knew…something was going on with you but he wasn’t sure what it was just yet. You pushed yourself off Draken and then trodded over to the black and purple-haired male. You pressed your hand on his right temple, running your hands through his hair “Yours is on this side isn’t it?” You questioned blinking at Mitsuya who grinned at your actions. Mitsuya looked toward Draken as if asking if this was alright or not but when he saw the identical grin on his friend’s face, he knew that this was okay. More than okay.
“Yeah.” Mitsuya replied simply and you smiled at him before going to sip at your cup once more but Mitsuya’s hand went to the cup preventing you from drinking the liquid inside of the cup “Think you’ve had enough princess. We want you to at least stay standing.” The man said with a small chuckle and Draken laughed too but he was different. Mitsuyas was a laugh to lighten the mood despite that not being needed whilst Draken’s was malicious as if there was a hidden dirty joke in that sentence. There wasn’t but it could’ve been.
Draken’s hand snaked down to your bottom just letting his large palm rest there. “Well, we want you standing before the party.”
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You and the two guys wasted no time at all hoping in Draken’s car and going to your shared apartment. They didn’t want their girl to sit there being so needy all night, did they? “Ah, Kenny.” You moaned into Draken’s ear as his cock stretched you out but he wasn’t moving. It bothered you so much but you’d get what you wanted just as soon as Mitsuya did.
“Don’t forget about me, princess,” Mitsuya said coming up from behind you and placing his cold hands on your bare shoulders while his chest pressed against your back, you whimpered at his touch but nodded. One of Mitsuya’s hands wandered down to your cunt which was being split open by Draken’s fat cock and he began to draw circles onto your clit making your back arch away from Mitsuya and Draken’s large hands held onto your torso to stop you from collapsing onto him “Ever fucked her in here?” Mitsuya asked bringing his other hand down to gently grope at your ass.
“Nah, she’s too sensitive for that,” Draken said pecking your lips lightly as you moaned submissively in a low voice and Mitsuya beamed delivering a light slap to your clit before allowing Draken’s fingers to replace his “Yeah, you’ll probably split her in half. I’ll be gentle don’t worry.” Mitsuya cooed into your ear before pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear making a shiver run down your spine. You didn’t respond and just whined again pressing your butt against his pelvis.
Mitsuya’s hands went to your ass and he spread your cheeks revealing your untouched hole. He spat on his fingers before rubbing it all over your whole and dipping his fingers inside making your body jolt. The tip of his rock-hard cock then pressed against the hole, he didn’t push it in but it just sat there pressing against it lightly. When he gently began to push inside; your whimpers grew louder “Sh, sh, sh…I got you, princess.” He muttered soothingly as Draken moved his hips just a bit to try and distract you from the pain of being used in a different hole. Draken has always wanted to fuck you there but you could barely keep yourself together with him inside of your pussy; always complaining about how he was splitting you open when not even his whole cock was pushed inside of you. He knew that he couldn’t do anal with you because he didn’t want to see you cry but Mitsuya was just a bit smaller than him and less girthy so it’d hurt less if it were him. It’d also get you more comfortable with someone in there so then he could try.
Everyone’s winning with this night. It was…just going to take you a little pain for you to get your trophy.
Draken brought his other hand up to your face cupping your cheek as tears began to prick at your eyes “It’s okay, just relax.” He told you running his thumbprint over your cheek after brushing away the tears from your eyes “‘M trying…just so full.” You muttered feeling Mitsuya push in more and more until he couldn’t and bottomed out. He pressed gentle kisses behind your ear “Wanna adjust or want me to move?” He knew it’d be best for you to just sit there for a bit and get used to the feeling but he wanted to ask you first, it was your body after all. This is why Draken liked the idea of Mitsuya being the one to join the two of you. He was considerate of how other people felt whether or not he knew better than them. So kind…
“Mitsuya asked you a question baby,” Draken said as you tried to find your words, your brain already turning to mush. “I…I wanna move.” You muttered letting out a breath as Draken rubbed away the tears that were threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mitsuya’s chest pressed against your back as his hands moved to wander all over your body, gently brushing over your tits and his fingertips tickling your neck until they found their place on your pelvis. Mitsuya slowly began to move in and out of your ass that was getting extremely tight around him, he hissed as he rose from your skin making you shudder from the new angle. “Relax for me, baby,” Draken said continuing to circle your clit, going a bit faster so you could loosen up around Mitsuya.
“Ha…” You mewled as Mitsuya’s subtle movements made you grind against Draken who was moving his hips around. You sighed as you loosened around Mitsuya finally allowing him to take a breath, he swore you were going to end up cutting his dick off. Mitsuya’s pace slowly grew faster as his eyes fixated on your back and how it arched because of the penetration and he grinned, reaching his hand to run his fingers down your spine making your back curve into a deeper half-moon.
“Kenny…move please.” You mumbled to your black-haired boyfriend as your nails dug into his bare shoulders “Gimmie a kiss first.” Draken said with a playful smile on his face, you pouted at his demand letting out small whimpers because he wasn’t giving you what you wanted “Be a good girl, babydoll.” Mitsuya whispered into your ear and you let out small hopeless moans at that before pressing your lips to your boyfriends who swallowed your mewls and moans. As you and Draken kissed messily, he grabbed onto your torso, his hands were just above Mitsuya’s skinnier and smaller ones, and he began to thrust up into you hitting your cervix. Mitsuya’s hand that was once on your back snuck its way up to the front of your neck and he wrapped his fingers around it as you breathed heavily.
Mitsuya’s hips slapped into your ass as his pace sped up, his rhythm matched Draken’s but he was going faster. His pink lips put gentle smooches behind your ear to your cheek as you moaned in Draken’s mouth, unable to make your pathetic sounds audible. The kiss was incredibly sloppy. It was open-mouthed and drool was spilling from your mouths and running down your faces, suction noises and occasional moans were coming from the both of you which just made Mitsuya fuck into you harder enjoying how pretty you sounded. “You’re so filthy babydoll…so pretty too.” The purple-eyed male cooed to you, his eyes drifting over your shoulder to how Draken’s cock was easily disappearing and reappearing.
Draken’s cock stretched you out like it always did as he continued to fuck up into you, moving his hips once again to change the angle so he could hit your g-spot. You felt every vein rubbing against the ridges of your fleshy walls as his mushroom tip rammed into your sweet spot “Feel so good ‘round me baby.” The Ryuguji male said breaking the kiss and watching you with lidded eyes as you bounced up and down with your tongue lolling out, his eyes shifted to his friend who was losing himself in the deep depths of your and his own pleasure.
“Such a nice gift…” Draken said grabbing at one of your tits roughly and your body trembled at his additional touch of pleasure “Taka! Feels so good, want more!” You shouted grabbing hold of the other boob that was being neglected and squeezing it tightly. Mitsuya would never say this, especially not to your face, hell he was even feeling bad thinking about it but you were such a slutty girl…he loved it though. You wanted so much more of him despite having two dicks being shoved inside of both your holes.
Draken grinned at his friend “Give ‘er what she wants, huh? She ain’t gonna stop begging until you do.” He said pinching your nipple making you shout “Kenny! Bein’ mean…” Your complaints were ignored as Mitsuya had a matching grin to his dragon twin. His fingers tightened around your neck and he began to rapidly fuck into your recently deflowered hole, his bony pelvis and hips were probably going to be bruised at the end of this. “Ugh! S-So good…!” You moaned uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm coming extremely quickly.
It was gonna hit you like a fucking bus. Coming out of nowhere and coming quickly.
“Ah! Cumming! ‘M cummin! Cum with me please, please, want it so bad!” Your moans were quick and all in one breath as your mouth opened into a wide ‘O’ releasing whorish and high-pitched moans “Go ahead, we’re right behind you.” Draken said with a strained grunt as his pace quicked, his rhythm still matched with his friend’s despite this. You let your orgasm come over you as you breathed heavily and sharply as if it was your last breath on earth and it truly felt like it.
You came all over Draken as you yelped and just like he said, he was right behind you, releasing himself all in your warm hole painting the plush walls in a translucent white liquid “Shit…can I cum in?” Mitsuya asked putting his forehead on your shoulder while rutting into your ass and you nodded with a hum tiredly, Mitsuya didn’t waste a single millisecond to burst into your ass copying draken’s actions in dirting your hole and making an absolute mess of it “Wanna stay inside for a little bit…Can I?” The male behind you asked and your heart fluttered at how kind he sounded, you nodded as you collapsed onto Draken’s chest all sweaty and fucked out.
Mitsuya was really the perfect person to be with you and Draken…you guys should do this more.
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©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
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tanniefm · 1 year
Text
all to you | jjk (m)
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summary - why work on a boring school project when you could fuck your cute bestfriend?!
pairing - sub!jungkook x dom!reader (f)
genre - friends to lovers, pwp
word count - 2.6k
song inspo - all to you by sabrina claudio.
warnings - dry humping, dirty talk, praise, pet names, cumming in pants (EEEE), breast play, reader is described as squishy and squeezable so if you don’t like that my bad
a/n - i just desperately needed whiny koo. badly. also hey lol it’s been a while
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You're gonna fail this class. Who the fuck even needs calculus anyway? You huff and continue to throw a silent temper tantrum while writing down equations that don't even make sense to you. You look over at your friend, Jungkook to see if he thinks anything of what the professor was saying makes sense, only to see him diligently writing in his notebook and seeming to retain every bit of information the man bellows out to the class. You chuckle to yourself, your Kookie, always hard at work.
You and Jungkook have been friends since you were kids. He's always been a little meek and quiet, a complete juxtaposition from your talkative and loud manner. You had found him cute, even back in elementary school. His bunny smile and his big doe eyes made you melt every time you looked at him. Being neighbors, naturally, you both were constantly around each other. He was content with listening to you talk your head off while he listened intently and nodded along. You two complement each other. Anytime either of you had a problem, the other was always there to give support. Your favorite thing to do though was tease him. Seeing his pretty face burn scarlet and shyly bite his lip after complimenting him gave you a strange sense of satisfaction. It seemed as though no one could get him so flustered but you. Of course, you tried not to dwell on it, but it's not like it wasn't there.
You watched the clock obsessively, desperately waiting for it to strike 4. You smiled once it did and quickly gathered your stuff to meet Jungkook by the door where he always waited for you. Calculus is your last class of the day so he waits for you to pack up to walk back to the dorms together. As you start down the road to your building, you turn and finally ask him what the fuck you're supposed to be doing for class.
“Oh, we have a test next Monday. It's on Convergence and Divergence, remember?” he asks. No, you do not, but you're sure you wrote down some notes somewhere so maybe that'll count for something.
“I do not have the attention span for this shit I swear. Every time he speaks I automatically zone out,” you groan. He giggles and shakes his head.
“I’ll help you study, don't worry,” Your dorm building comes into view as you keep your pace on the sidewalk.
“Great! My roommate won't be home for another couple of hours so we can get started at mine.” you smile.
You take out your key and unlock the door and walk into the living room to set both of your bags on the kitchen table. Jungkook gets his laptop and notebook and sits on the couch. He found doing your work out here is more productive than in your bedroom since you tend to get a little lazy when you're in the comfort of your room. You've argued with him about this plenty of times before, even though you're very aware he's right.
“You want anything to drink? Eat? I think I might have some ramen in the pantry,” you yell from the kitchen.
“Nah I'm good, thanks!” he yells back. His face illuminates from his screen as he starts looking up the test review your professor sent out for the class.
You come back with a bottle of water and your sweatshirt in your hands. Oh. You took it off. Ok, that's fine - Jungkook thinks to himself - the tight tank top you're wearing that seems to accentuate your boobs and curves perfectly is completely fine. He's fine, just focus on the google doc, JK. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and stares wide-eyed at his screen.
“Oh shit, I still need to get the stuff for Tae’s party, hold on,” you whip out your phone and search for the text Taehyung sent you about all the different types of snacks and alcohol he wanted.
“Oh no you don't need to do that, I'll get them it's fine!” he rushes to grab his phone and open his notes app. Tae had sent the list of errands he wanted to the group chat and hadn't given anyone a specific job on who needed to buy what. You had said you’d get some of them, but it seems Jungkook had the same intention.
“Kook, I can get them, it's whatever. Just let me look for what he said he needed,” you argue. He attempts to disagree again but you snatch his phone from his hands before he can get a word out.
“Hey, give it back!” he yelps. You cackle mischievously and turn away from him as he tries to grab his phone from your hands. 
“____! Give me my phone!” he whines. He sets his computer on the coffee table and tries to wrestle it from your grasp again. Just as he lunges for his phone, you put your hand on his firm chest and push him back onto the couch. You climb on top of him and straddle his waist. 
“What are you gonna do about it? Why don't you just take it, hm?” you look down at him and freeze. His lips are in a soft pout and he gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster. 
“Please ____? Just give it back, please?” he whines softly. Your breath hitches as you realize the position you're in. Your best friend is under you begging for his phone while you are staring down at him and straddling his tiny waist. His hands had clasped onto your hips and he absentmindedly squeezed them. Fuck he looks so good like this. Jungkook doesn't know what to focus on. The view of you on top of him like this is something he'll be fisting his dick to for weeks. He bets if he leaned up right now he'd be at the perfect level to kiss you. Maybe even kiss your pretty tits that are seemingly calling for him to suck bruises into. He can feel his jeans tighten as his eyes dart everywhere but your eyes and his face starts to turn pink. You mistake his flustered look for being uncomfortable and immediately attempt to apologize and shift off of him. As you make your move, however, you hear him gasp loudly. His grip on your hips tightens further and his face darkens to a bright red. 
“Oh my god I'm so sorry did I hurt you?” you rush out. He looks like a deer in headlights. Maybe you went too far?
“N-no. M’ ok,” he says in a small voice. You furrow your brows in concern and take his face in your hands.
“Are you sure? You're burning up, babe.” you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones as he stares starry-eyed at you. He offhandedly thinks you might've been an angel in your past life. He smiles gently and nods in your hands. He musters the courage to start rubbing his hands up and down your waist slowly. You feel so soft. He wants to hold you like this forever. However, his dick is starting to strain in response to the worried tone you're taking on. He'll never admit it out loud, but he loves how concerned you get over him. It makes him feel needed and special.
“I'm fine, ____, promise.” He hopes you can see past his white lie for once. Unfortunately for him, it's just then that you start to feel something press against your leggings. 
“Jungkook...are you...?” you say slowly. His eyes widen as his entire body stiffens. Fuck fuck you felt him. Oh god, now you're gonna think he's a fucking weirdo that can't control his hormones. He should've never come over. Now you're gonna hate him forever! You notice his eyes start to well up and immediately try to comfort him.
“No! No baby it's ok! I'm not mad or grossed out please no tears you know I don't like seeing my pretty boy sad.” Without thinking, you softly kiss his forehead. He stares at you in awe and sniffles. Your pretty boy. The words swirl through poor Jungkook’s head on repeat. Did you mean it? Is he really yours? Did you really think he was pretty? Do you think about him the way he thinks about you?
“Y-yours? I'm...yours?” he mumbled. His watery eyes are looking at you like you're the center of the universe. Although you didn't mean for the words to slip, you didn't want to watch doubt cloud his eyes if you were to take them back. So you lean down and smile softly. “Mhm, mine. Always mine,” you see him glance down at your lips the closer you get to him. He starts to close his eyes and you giggle quietly at how cute he looks awaiting your kiss. You brush your lips against his and lean back teasingly. He whines and chases after you. 
“You wanna kiss me, baby? Hm?” you smirk as you watch his eyes flutter open and give you a pleading look. “Yes, please. Wanna kiss,” he frowns. You notice his lisp is starting to show as you cause his brain to turn to mush. You like him like this. All whiny and pliant just for you. Your pretty boy. You guide his lips towards yours and caress your hands along his chest. All the sports he's been doing must be paying off since you swear you can feel every muscle in him tense. His tongue shyly comes out to twist against your own which causes you to sigh blissfully into his mouth. Your fingers brush over his nipples and you feel him gasp.
“Oh? Are your little nipples sensitive, baby? You want me to touch them?” he whimpers and nods. “Words, sweetie. You need to tell me you want me,” you say pointedly. For some reason, he feels like you're talking about more than just touching his nipples. 
“Yes ____. Please touch me…I want you,” he says bashfully. You smile and praise him for being so polite, which in turn rewards you with a toothy grin and a cute nose scrunch. You peck his nose before you resume your little make-out session. Your fingers brush over his nipples once more but this time start to circle them slowly. His hips buck as he lets out a small moan that you swallow. Your hands sneak under his shirt to touch them more directly. You slide your hands up his muscular plane and return them to his pebbled peaks. He starts to whine consistently which only makes you wetter. God, he sounds so fucking pretty. Why didn’t you think to do this sooner? You direct your kisses to his jaw and work your way down his neck. You gently suck on his pulse point and it sends him into a full-body shiver. You giggle and tug at the hem of his shirt. He quickly obliges, tugging it off and diving back into you to continue kissing. He thinks kissing you has got to be his favorite feeling in the entire world now. Your lips are so soft and plump, the vanilla-scented gloss you put on smears across his smaller lips, making him feel dizzy and uncomfortably hard. His hands start to squeeze your hips again. They feel so soft and cushy, he loves how squeezable you are. He wonders if your cunt feels just as soft. Fuck he needs you so bad. He starts to rub himself against your clothed center as you slowly take off your tank top. 
Seeing your boobs squeezed into your bra has him drooling. This has to be a dream come true. “Can I take that off too?” he says whilst completely honed in on your breasts. You laugh and nod, god could he get any cuter? He reaches around and clumsily fumbles with the hooks. He’s so horny he can’t even think straight. He already knows his boxers are drenched with how much precum his dick is producing. Once your breasts are freed, he takes a moment to fully take you in and the situation he’s found himself in. His favorite person in the world is grinding on his lap, half nude, and looking at him warmly. He’s definitely fucking dreaming.
He shyly dives his head into your neck and trails soft kisses down towards your chest. The closer he gets to your nipples, the harder he sucks. He wants to leave his mark, anything to prove that this is truly happening. Your weight on top of him and his hands feeling your soft skin is the only thing grounding him at the moment. You grab his ebony locks and guide him to where you want his mouth. As sweet as he’s being, you’re feeling just as needy for him. You grind a little faster which causes him to moan loudly against your nipple. His hand moves from your hips to play with the neglected one. His other hand encourages you to continue your pace on his swollen shaft. Back and forth, back and forth. This is pure bliss for Jungkook. 
Your living room is filled with the noises of pleasure. Anyone unlucky enough to be your neighbor will know that not a single studying tactic is being used right now. But you can’t find it in you to care. All you care about is hearing Jungkook moan as loud as he wants as he orgasms. You briefly consider giving him more than this. Maybe wrapping your lips around his pulsing tip, or even sitting on him directly with no fabric in between. The thought of getting him to ruin his pants is too good to pass up though. You can imagine how embarrassed he might become, but it’s ok, you’ll clean him up. At this you smirk and put your full weight on him, snapping your hips to gain speed.
 He gasps and his eyes widen. Why are you going so fast? At this rate, he’ll… “____ wait! I’m gonna-hngg-I’m not gonna last if you keep going!” You shush him gently and keep your pace. You need to see him crumble under you. He throws his head back as his hips can’t help but thrust into yours. His mouth opens and spills every sound he’s been trying to quiet down. He’s never felt this good in his life. His hand could never compare to this feeling. You lean down and whisper in his, “You gonna cum baby? Cmon Kookie, be a good boy and cum for me. Want you to ruin these pants.” He moans loudly and nods his head rapidly. He lifts his head to look at you as his eyes start to water. “I-I’m-fuck! I can’t! Please don’t stop,” he chokes out. Curses slip profusely from his lips as his moans rise in octave. Until finally, the dam breaks. He spills into his soiled boxers as tears stream down his face and confessions of his love for you leave his mouth. Your body shakes with your own climax and smile bigger than you ever have, you had a feeling he’d be the type to profess his love whilst cumming. He’s such a sweet boy. You tug at the back of his neck to slot your lips onto his.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he pants into the kiss. You both can’t stop smiling, this is everything you’ve ever wanted. You pull back with a line of spit still connecting you two. “I love you too, you know. So much,” you say as you gaze into his black orbs. He’s gorgeous, he has the same thought as he holds you close. His phone suddenly pings from your side. Damn, you had forgotten all about that thing. A message that makes you both simultaneously cackle and blush appears on the screen. 
Tae:
“Hey so I got the stuff for the party, let me know when ya’ll are done fucking or wtv and come over 😒”
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adventuringblind · 8 months
Text
Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Three
Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen
Summary: Jos overhear a conversation and the trio finds themselves in a confrontation
Warnings: Jos being Jos, Oscar throwing hands, implied homophobia and slurs
Notes: I definitely wasn’t listening to eye of the tiger while writing this…
Previous <-
Masterlist
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It’s was only a matter of time until someone noticed. Max had been more then smiley as of late and it wasn’t just because he was dominating the sport. He’d fallen head over heal and looked like a love sick puppy.
His smile tends to grow a little extra when someone brings up either of his partners. He just blamed on the fact he thought they were doing well and had become friends with both.
Christian didn’t fall for it. He wasn’t team principal for nothing. He’s an observant man and had seen it in the way Max moved, his he talked, even in his driving.
Max found himself being pulled aside by Christian into a space where the people either didn’t bother them or didn’t care what they were talking about.
“Care to tell me what has you so happy lately?”
Max panics and stutters, then ends up just shrugging his shoulders. “The weather.” He mentally face palms at the terrible lie.
Christian laughs at him and grabs his shoulders. “It’s a miracle you can make it through interviews sometimes.” He releases him again before continuing. “Are you going to tell me the truth now.”
“First promise me you won’t be mad and that you won’t judge.”
“Would you like me to pinky swear it?”
Max rolls his eyes but continues one. “I’m in a relationship.”
“Well I already knew that part.” A skirt tugs on Christian’s lips. “Who is the lucky lass? Or is it a lad?” The playful eyebrow raise puts Max oddly at ease.
“Both actually.” His hands get clams and he wants nothing more to disappear at the confession. The fear of judgement giving him nervous energy.
“… Like two partners or gender-fluid?” The genuine curiosity in the older males voice made him relax. He wanted to know and was supportive it seems.
“Two Partners. Y/N and Oscar, actually.” He is hopeless. He can’t even say their names without smiling.
Christian is also smiling widely. “I’m so happy for you! Remember this is a safe space and if anyone says anything please let me know. If not afraid to tell someone off.”
Max feels the tension leave his body. His initial panic evaporating into think air. “Thank you, it means a lot really.”
“Are you three going to go public? If so then please tell me sooner rather then later so the team is prepared.”
“No plans for that right now, just figuring things out. But I’ll make sure to let you know.”
Despite their plans to not go public or let more people into their secret, someone was ,siting just around the corner.
~
Max texted them immediately after the conversation. They still had a few hours before the race so he wasn’t to worried about time.
Max: Christian knows
Y/N: … is he upset?
Max: No, he’s actually really supportive
Oscar: interesting turn of events
Max: you two aren’t mad with me?
Y/N: why would we be mad? Christian is basically your dad!
Oscar: we made a decision that we are disowning Jos
Max: I don’t think that’s how that works
Y/N: don’t care. He’s disowned.
Max chuckles at their comments. They are both younger then him but neither would hesitate to protect him from anything. Including his aggressive father.
He didn’t notice a problem at first. He thought it was normal until he got up to formula 1 and Daniel told him that it’s not. Christian and Seb followed after him. Soon Max was in a position where he had to come to terms with his childhood.
He’d yet to do that because despite it all, Jos is still his father and he loves him.
All that to say he wouldn’t be surprised if the female in their trio ended up punching him one day.
~
It had been an absolutely shitty race for her. She’s on the verge of tears when she’s getting ready to leave until Yuki comes sliding around the corner. “They have more stuff to talk about.” She can hear the annoyance in her his voice.
“What if we just run away.”
“I may be fast, but my legs are short. We’d never make it.”
She groans and sends a quick text to the boys telling them she is going to be late and they can leave without her. Instead of the response she was expecting, they said they’d wait for her by the paddock entrance.
She smiled reading the text, then locked her phone again.
~
Her legs feel heavy as she walks through the dark and almost deserted paddock. Her brain has already shut off and she wants nothing more then to curl up with her lovers and sleep until next year.
A pair of heavy footsteps fall in line behind her. She assumes it’s just leftover staff and continues her journey. That is, until she hears the thick Dutch accent of Jos Verstappen. The last person on the planet she wants to see.
“Can we talk for a moment?” He yells out to her.
“I’m late for something, sorry.” She doesn’t look at him. She fears if she does she might not be able to hold her tongue or hands and the last thing she wants to do it get in trouble.
It doesn’t take long for him to catch up. She blames her uncooperative appendages.
“We need to talk.” He grabs her bicep and she yelps in surprise.
“I really am la-“
“You and the Australian keep away from my son.”
She panics. Her breathing gets labored faster then she would’ve liked. Questions fill her mind of how he knows. She tries to yank her arms away but he tightens his grip.
“Never.” She spits. He used his free hand to wipe his face. She can feel him heating with anger as his movements become jagged. She readies herself for the possibility of a swing. At least if he hits her first then she can hit him back.
“Hey! Leave her alone!” The much more soothing Dutch accent yells from behind her.
“Is it true? You’re really lumping yourself in with this nonsense?” Max had almost forgotten why he doesn’t tell his father things. He’d had to relearn everything when he was finally able to spend time with people who wanted him to understand that the internalized homophobia that he’d grown up with was not okay in any sense.
“Yeah, I am.” Max keeps his distance. His father is prone to aggression and Max fears for the girl currently in his hold.
The fear and simultaneous relief flood through him as he pushes her straight to the ground. The look of pain and exhaustion in her eyes is hard to look at.
She doesn’t move. She can’t find the energy to do so.
“Your no son of mine. My son would never be a fa-“ He does not get the chance to finish his sentence. Oscar had connected his fist to the Dutch’s face and sent him stumbling backwards.
She could feel Oscar seething. She’d never seen him lose his temper. Ever. Since she’d known him. He could be cold and calculated but this was a whole new level.
She looked at Max who was now gently hugging Oscar from behind and trying to calm the anger behind the Australians eyes. He also looked at her for some sort of understanding. Neither of them had any clue what to do.
“Say it again. I fucking dare you.” Oscar held his gaze on the older man. It felt as if time had frozen around them. “You have no right to say such things.”
Oh. It clicked for her then. He’d done this before with one of her exes. A few of them actually.
It’s not like she’d never been with a female before. She’d been called that F slur before and it definitely didn’t feel right. Oscar had also punched them. There was no hesitation behind his swing either.
Jos just stares back at them and Max had no other ideas except to get Oscar away before he gets himself in trouble. She watches as he starts tugging him back towards the entrance. Stopping to give you a hand up. Then she held Oscars hand in hers the entire way back to the hotel. Despite his earlier anger, he held her hand so gently and occasionally placed kisses on her knuckles. Reciprocating the action to Max when they came to a stop sign or red light.
He’d still not settled down when they got to the hotel room. His frantic pacing and angry rant seemed to help, but only so much.
“Love, pretty sure there are other ways to help you get some of this energy out.” She purrs. Had she noticed max is turned on? Yes. Is she also turned on? Yes. Have both of them been whispering about the rage fueled Aussie being turned on? Again, yes.
He freezes and eyes both of them with a rather lustful gaze.
Sometimes the best cure to pent up energy is really good sex.
~
Max wakes up to the awful sound of his phone buzzing. The blissful feeling of his lovers tangled in the sheets with him now ruined by the terrible sound.
Still he looks at the caller ID and almost chokes when he sees Christian’s name on his phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey Max… I was wondering if you could shed some light on why your father called to tell me not to let, and I quote, ‘the deranged McLaren Australian’ anywhere near out garage?”
Max laughs. It’s probably not the right time and the other two are now awake and trying to tug him down into the bed, but he can’t help it. “Oscar punched him last night because he used the F word.”
“The F word? Doesn’t Oscar say fuck? I’ve heard him before I think.”
“I should clarify: the F slur.”
Silence falls from the other end of the line. For a moment Max things he lost connection until he hears Christian grumbling. “Tell Oscar he’s allowed in anytime he wants and your father will be receiving a strongly worded letter about how he’s not welcome back.”
Again, Max can only laugh at the situation and how it’s unfolded. He’s not complaining though. It’s nice knowing that he doesn’t always have to fight for himself.
475 notes · View notes
mutable-manifestation · 4 months
Text
Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 4
Part 1 & 2
Part 3
Explaining The Papers (™) to Frostbite takes a While (also ™).
Though with no more imminent threat of “Vlad maybe finding out he’s the ghost king and becoming Insufferable (also also ™) about it” Danny was feeling a lot less stressed - Sam and Tucker, too, if the fact that they were actually drinking their tea now instead of just barely sipping at it was any indication - or they could’ve only just cooled enough to actually drink, the FF did tend to overestimate the level of heat they could tolerate just a tad.
Not to say that he wasn’t still stressed, given the whole “the Justice League is trying to summon ME” thing. But like. They were reaching out hoping for peace, not hoping to skin/dissect/exterminate him. 
Plus they don’t know how to summon him; he figures he has time. Hopefully enough to get Frostbite’s advice.
And mostly to cool his own nerves, because now that he knows they did try to help and are helping the Justice League is Cool again! And they want to meet him! 
Well, they want to meet the ghost king, but they already watched him! They thought he was a capable hero! 
Danny isn’t really used to getting positive feedback, so being called “good hands” by Superman - Superman! The hero! The Alien hero! (well, one of them. Martian Manhunter is also amazing but he hasn’t complimented Danny in person yet so he doesn’t have any expectations for Danny to live up to. Maybe. Hypothetically). 
The JL is so cool and they think he’s cool! Or at least capable! Except now he has to impress them not just as a hero but as a king?
Yeah.
Suffice to say, Danny is now a little nervous.
(And also maybe redirecting his nerves intentionally to be about the JL so he doesn’t have to breathe into a bag about being probably the only thing between the Zone and eventual total dimensional collapse because Frostbite was very ‘this is normal and okay’ about it but it’s eventual total dimensional collapse [ALL OF THEM] and it is Danny’s problem. But no, he’s just nervous about meeting the JL. Totally.)
Reciting pretty much his whole life story - well, the basics of his parents’ work and then pretty much everything from the portal onward - gives him time to untense, and honestly, getting it all out to a mostly uninvolved third party - one he likes and trusts - really is a weight off his shoulders.
He’ll never tell Jazz; the amount of I-told-you-so-energy she’d leech into the air would be unbearable.
Sam and Tucker tag in here and there too, and mostly take over when they get to the part where the GIW bought Fenton Works for a short while to try and destroy the zone. Danny winces at the memory of his behavior back then.
The explanation runs for longer than it could have, given the aside they make when they get to his parents’ theories. 
Frostbite is quick to confirm the combat-as-a-positive-social-behavior thing, and it turns out Sam is right about how to tell the difference.
Of course, Danny thinks they were all trying to kill him the rest of the way, but then that’s not a concern most ghosts have, so Frostbite offers his own perspective.
Skulker wants to hang his pelt on a wall: clearly unfriendly.
Technus is just having fun - enjoying playing with new technology in the living realm and throwing Danny around/being thrown around. He’s a friend. The whole world domination idea isn’t malicious as far as he’s concerned, because damage to the living realm doesn’t mean much to ghosts. What do they care about the living? What is the value of a single world as collateral when weighed against the games of ghosts? 
If Danny wants him to stop that, Frostbite tells him, he can just propose a new game.
Ember genuinely just wanted a powerboost from the Earth that first time, but her returns since are a gesture of friendship.
Spectra definitely hates him though. Which is good. He wouldn’t know how to feel if Frostbite had said that that whole mess was an attempt at friendship.
As for the thing with his parents, Frostbite compares it to winning a tournament only to find out the other participants lost intentionally. You haven’t really won a competition if the competitors were not competing. 
Like going in for a handshake only to get a “too slow” - even more insulting if it’s the first “too slow” you’ve ever gotten - Tucker suggests.
Or like asking a parent to a hug and only getting a wave. Not even a high-five.
They each go through another three cups of tea before the story winds down, Frostbite doing adding little more than the occasional nod or noise of acknowledgement - barring the social combat explanation, of course. 
It’s nice, Danny thinks, to have an adult that actually listens. Even if said adult is a dead yeti.
“You have given me much to think on Great One, Friends Sam and Tucker,” he says after the three of them finally run out of words, giving each of them a nod. “And soon, we shall have much more to discuss. First, however, it seems that I have a meeting to call. And you have living needs that require attending to yet. Eat, rest, and, if you would, return here… let’s say the day after tomorrow? Then we can begin to discuss the…issues. At hand.”
Back in the Specter Speeder, Tucker wonders aloud if “call a meeting” is code for yelling at the Observants.
Then he looks at his PDA and realizes how late it’s gotten - namely, past all of their curfews - and they promptly turn the conversation to getting their story straight (and three backups because they’re all feeling paranoid with how high-stakes everything suddenly became. Not that the occasional ghost looking to wreck earth wasn't already high-stakes, but the whole political aspect made it feel... different).
***
Danny is thankful it’s summer vacation at the moment, because the next morning is a Monday. 
He doesn’t know how he’d manage school with his mind miles away wondering about things like “how to king” and “how to maintain the fabric of reality” and other totally normal, non-stressful topics. 
Just normal high schooler things.
His parents are gone before he’s even up, leaving a note for him and Jazz on the kitchen table. 
They eat a quiet breakfast together.
The whole house is quiet. It’s unnatural, he thinks, and the small frown on Jazz’ face tells him she feels the same. 
They normally enjoy the brief lulls of quiet that their parents leave behind, but this is perhaps the first time they’ve ever missed breakfast - well, the first time they haven’t been in the house during breakfast at least. A welding torch, clanging metal, clinking glass, minor explosions, and excited shouting is the usual background noise of their morning meal - whether from the basement door or at the table itself.
This time, the silence is disquieting.
Even more so since it means that Danny could, at any time, be teleported somewhere. He really should have asked Frostbite about how that works before they left - they’d already missed curfew anyway.
After they’ve both finished eating, he takes the opportunity to fill Jazz in on the whole… everything.
She is, to put it lightly, Not Impressed.
“-s bad enough they let you fight Pariah Dark in the first place! You should never have been in that position! I know that you’re a capable fighter Danny, but you’re fourteen-”
“I’m almost fifteen,” he grumbles.
“You’re not yet fifteen,” she says, glaring into the distance, expression practically snarling. Danny thinks she might be imagining strangling an Observant, based on the… choice words she’d had for them earlier. “And they want you to be a king!”
Tucker chooses that moment to arrive, walking right into the path of where Jazz is glaring and freezing until Sam shoves him out of her way to close the door and drag him into the kitchen.
“Who spat in your cereal?” she asks, moving to sit and kicking the fourth chair out for Tucker.
“Whoever or whatever is responsible for deciding that a fourteen year old child should be king when there are no doubt numerous thousand-plus year old candidates who don’t have human lives they still need to attend to!” She bellows, throwing her hands up in frustration.
The trio exchange a glance while she takes a few calming breaths.
Danny kind of wants to point out that he isn’t a child, he’s a teenager. And she’s barely older than him.
But he does have some sense of self-preservation, even if there’s only so much self left to preserve. Heh.
Then she gasps.
“Danny! You’re still half alive!”
“Er, yes?”
“Maybe that’s why the Watching Wraiths didn’t say anything! Maybe you can’t be the Ghost King if you’re still partly alive!”
“But Frostbite said-” Tucker starts, only to be cut off by Jazz.
“Frostbite could be wrong.” She sniffs. “And even if he isn’t you there are millenia before it becomes a problem. The Zone can wait for you to graduate high school before it goes demanding things of you. Or longer.”
The words are decisive.
Still….
“The Justice League-”
“Can cope. They’ll be a little paranoid about retaliation, but a little paranoia won’t kill them. And maybe letting them stew a bit will teach them to be more active about taking down genocidal organizations before they hurt so many people.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sam says, tone saying the opposite, “except the part where they’re actively working on figuring out how to summon the ghost king - who is Danny - and are probably also going to try and make contact with Phantom at some point - who is also Danny.”
Jazz frowns.
“Well. You don’t have to be a king to talk to the Justice League. Just tell them you’re still too young - which is true - or that the coronation is going to take a long time to plan - which, according to Frostbite, would be a reasonable claim. And also true since you will not be taking the throne until you are at least 18 if the Fenton Peeler and I have anything to say about it.”
“Uh. I don’t know if the Peeler is the best idea. With your…aim.” Tucker cringes, shrinking back in his seat when her unhappy frown snaps to him.
Then she looks thoughtful.
“You know what. I’ll just use a specter deflector. You mentioned before how humans are ghosts in the ghosts zone; see if they still feel like making a child a king when they’ve got an unstrikable target punching their lights out about it.”
“Please don’t antagonize a bunch of ghosts who could try and attack you while you're sleeping,” Danny pleads.
“It’s bad enough that all this has impacted your sleep and grades and attendance records so much; I’m not going to let a bunch of ghost nobles - or whatever they’re called - mess things up for you even more. If they don’t like my proposals they can un-friendly fight me about it, and if you’re worried about retribution I can turn on the house defenses in my room when I sleep. But I am not letting this go.”
She stands.
“Since he didn’t give you a time, we’ll leave to visit Frostbite after breakfast tomorrow-”
“We?” the trio ask hesitantly.
“Of course. But for now, there’s something else we need to do, little brother.”
That said, she turns and heads for the basement.
Danny and Tucker blink at the abrupt departure, while Sam just frowns thoughtfully.
The three exchange one more meaningful glance, before sharing a shrug and moving to follow her.
They arrive in the basement to Fenton Fighting Ring rising out of the floor.
“Uh, Jazz?” Danny tries.
“We’re going to fight!”
In stark contrast to both her words and her furious demeanor upstairs, her tone and expression are bright and eager.
“Um. That’s. Nice, but you know that’s a ghost thing, right?” he offers hesitantly.
“I mean, I still fight with Dora,” Sam adds, the traitor.
“Thank you Sam,” Jazz starts. “But even without that example; you are part ghost, brother mine. That means fighting loved ones is a you thing. I love you, so of course I’m going to fight you.”
“Mom and Dad theorized - and Frostbite confirmed - that the fighting is a social behavior. Many social behaviors are also needs. Members of social species that are not allowed to socialize become stressed and their health worsens. Humans who don’t communicate with other humans for too long experience negative side effects, too little physical contact can lead to depressed mood and so forth,” she monologues as she moves into the ring.
“As you’re still half human, neglecting the social needs of your ghost half could negatively impact your wellbeing. Also. I’m your sister and I love you. If I could never hug you I’d be bummed. This is like the ghost equivalent of that. So. Square up, little brother.”
Danny is kind of touched, actually. 
Still.
“...Don’t you at least want an anti-creep stick?” he asks, gesturing at her general lack of ghost gear as he slips intangibly through the ropes around the ring.
“Nope!” She says cheerfully. “For this match we’ll be doing no powers and no weapons - just basic human strength and skill. We can try other kinds of fights later.”
Danny pales.
“No way! You’re a 4th degree black belt!”
“9th!” she corrects, still cheerfully - and she clearly means well, but for Danny that smile is beginning to look like an omen of ill fortune.
“That’s even worse!” he cries. “I’m only a blue belt! Barely!”
“I ~told~ you you should’ve stuck with mom’s training,” she sing-songs teasingly.
He cringes, but takes a stance.
“Now let's see how much you remember.”
That’s the only warning he gets before she’s in his face.
His strength, speed, stamina, endurance, and durability are all completely back to baseline in human form unless he actively uses his flight to compensate, but one thing he notes as the fight draws on is that his reaction speed is still the same.
Even so, it’s painfully obvious just how beyond him she is in terms of skill.
Without any powers to fall back on, Jazz runs circles around him like it’s nothing.
His reaction speed means that he sees everything she’s doing and that he has time to bring his arms up, but he keeps lagging trying to recall forms and getting shoved around for it, the defenses he manages too poor to be of any use. 
Other times he lags because he’s suppressing instinctual power usage.
And multiple times he accidentally, instinctively abandons proper stance all together, habitually falling into the stance of his usual “feral racoon” style of fighting - as Jazz had one called it - which isn’t much of a stance at all in a fight with no powers. Especially given how it's not made for someone fighting on the ground. She takes brutal advantage of every opening.
He’s on the back foot from the first second of the fight, and it’s obvious that it only lasted for longer than one because Jazz allowed it to, testing him.
It’s frustrating that he’s doing so poorly - he knows he’s doing poorly - but despite that, he really is having fun. 
It reminds him of the training spars at the Far Frozen - restrained skill set, fight with defined boundaries and win conditions-
Aaaaand evidently he let his mind wander too much. 
And Jazz noticed. 
And flipped him.
He’s thoroughly pinned in short order and he cannot for the life of him remember how to escape the hold short of cheating with intangibility.
“Uncle,” he calls.
Jazz pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair.
He squawks indignantly, but she just chuckles.
"Good fight little brother," she calls as she slips between the ropes out of the ring.
"Our hero," Sam drawls as he follows.
Danny just pouts.
"That was just sad, man," Tucker ribs. "And I thought your early ghost fights were bad."
"I'd like to you do better against the 9th degree blackbelt," he grumbles.
"Don't fret, little brother. You'll improve with time," Jazz says as she rejoins them. "Though we'll have to do refreshers of all the previous levels first, given the amount of skill degradation I just saw. But with regular practice you'll back to your previous level and more in no time!"
"Uh. Refreshers?"
"Of course!"
"That seems a bit overkill just for sparring. Couldn't you just...wear a specter deflector or something? Then I can just not use karate."
Jazz, for the first time in a long time, levels him with a very serious look.
"You said that the reason Frostbite can't be the king instead is because he can't beat you in an all out fight. You told me the alternative."
She grabs him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes.
"Danny, Vlad already made a way to shut you away from your ghost powers. Frostbite may be unwilling to end you, and I don't think Vlad would. But you and I both know there are ghosts out there who would destroy you in a heartbeat for that power. And if Vlad has that kind of device, someone else could get one too. Ecto-weapons can give you a leg up if you get sealed away from your ghost powers, but you'll also need the skill to use them successfuly."
She lets go and steps back, tilting her head thoughtfully.
"Even with the ghost powers it's probably a good idea; the crown and ring might power you up but so did the exoskeleton. Clearly they aren’t the only power-ups out there so you can’t rely on strength alone. Skill could be the determining factor one day. And you already said you had fun," she smiles. "Come on little brother, give in to the karate side."
He grimaces.
"Didn't you say you were gonna make the royalty thing a non-issue for like three more years at least," he whines, slumping dramatically.
She raises a brow.
"A blackbelt isn't made in a day."
"Ugh, fine."
He's actually looking forward to it, but Jazz doesn't need to know that. He's duty-bound as a brother to be as annoyingly contrary about sibling bonding as possible, after all.
When Sam asks if they'll teach her and Tucker as well, Jazz is all too happy to include them - best not to have only one sparring partner, avoid forming bad habits and all that.
Both girls dutifully ignore Tucker's protests while they hash out a schedule. Danny pats his shoulder consolingly.
291 notes · View notes
honeybleed · 2 months
Text
content & warnings: fem!reader, modern au, florist!reader, deliveryman!eren, mentions of ex bf reiner, eren is kinda ooc real cocky and annoying, smut (oral f. receiving, unprotected missionary) porn no plot mdni
author’s note: i hate y’all 😭 tagging @kingkonoha & @merakidoll since they were feigning for this real bad
word count: 1.8k
Thursdays had to be the slowest day of the week for the store. Quite frankly, even if you were being paid to man the tills, it was boring you out of your mind.
After graduation, you figured you’d return home for the summer then start looking for proper jobs in the fall as well as move out with your savings.
But for now, you’d settle on moving back in with your grandmother who lived in the apartment on top of the florists, that had been passed down from generation to generation.
You were slightly on the fence. You’d grown up with flowers your whole life but you didn’t want to take the store from her hands.
There was more to life than being in this sleepy old town, just watching philandering men buy crappy bouquets as if that was a balm to the ugly rash of infidelity.
You were drawn out of your train of thoughts as you swilled the caramel candy around your mouth, as the bell from the front door chimed.
But your nose wrinkled in disgust when you caught sight of who it was.
“Got a delivery for you.” The voice called out as he dumped the heavy boxes beside the door. “I’ll be on my way now.”
“Come back, you jackass!” You barked. “What the hell makes you think I can lift that shit to the storage room?”
“Beats me. It’s your problem now, I did my job.” He shrugged as he made his way out with a dismissive wave.
You slammed the magazine shut and trudged over to pick up the heavy boxes.
It was funny because the kids you grow up within the same neighborhood tend to be your best friends. Or even a crush.
That was the complete opposite with Eren Yeager.
His mother Carla worked as a florist in her twenties with your grandmother as her boss.
So much so that Carla went back to college to get a degree in business and started her service that provided transportation and delivery for florists all across the state.
Anyways, from the day you met Eren Yeager in kindergarten when he poured water on the clips on your hair causing them to rust, you hated him.
And he seemed to get off on pissing you off throughout your lives. Luckily, you caught a break when you moved out of state for college. But now it was impossible to avoid him since your jobs were intertwined.
“One last thing.” He piped up.
“What?” You grumbled.
“I heard you ended things with country boy.”
You squinted.
“Reiner?” Then a smile began to tug at the corners of your lips. “What Yeager, you been askin’ about me?”
Eren’s eyes immediately widened as a tint of pink dusted his cheeks.
“N-no! I just heard from Hisu! That’s all!”
Historia wouldn’t go and blab about your breakup unprovoked. Eren must’ve been sniffing around and she always had a soft spot for him, telling him anything he wanted to know.
“Well, yeah.”
Breakups hurt and you were close to throwing your dignity out the window to beg Reiner to stay. But he said you were just so distant and difficult ever since you came back from college.
That whatever he did wasn’t enough for you.
You felt terrible. You often thought Reiner would be the man you’d grow old with. You screwed up.
But what was done was done. And he meant no hard feelings. The two of you were in two stages of life.
“Shame. He musta lost his mind to let a girl like you go.”
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“Give me a minute…” You said as you rose from the seat to turn the open sign to closed, lowering the blinds as Eren leaned against the wall.
At this point, he wasn’t delivering shit from work. Just dropping off dick. But to be frank you didn’t care. He showed interest and you needed a distraction.
You hopped onto the granite counter as Eren sunk to his knees almost immediately, his emerald eyes glinting as he looked up at you through his lashes in such reverence and awe.
You drew a sharp intake of breath as you felt his soft and plump lips press trace the sensitive skin.
Biting the inside of your cheek as you watched him. His gentleness and hushed voice were making goosebumps rise across your skin.
He continued to nuzzle and kiss your inner thigh, veering closer and closer to your core.
He couldn’t help but smile internally at the fact he was this close. And he knew he was going to make sure you would never forget his touch. Ensure that this was going to linger in your mind for the next few days.
His large hands climbed up to caress your hips as he leaned forward again.
“Why aren’t you wearing panties?” He said with a smug tone.
“Just didn’t feel like it.” You shrugged, but the way he murmured it, barely an octave caused a deep heat to pool in your gut.
It was usually a reflex of yours to cross your legs when a throbbing feeling overcame you however Eren seemed to keep your legs pried open.
“You like goin’ commando?" He teased, making you jolt and hiss when his teeth grazed the skin.
“Sometimes…” You chuckled.
His lips twitch into a small smile at your response, feeling a sense of amusement and excitement.
"I can see why," He muttered, trailing his fingers up your thighs. "It's much easier to play with you this way."
A stifled moan fell from your lips, knuckles paling from how harshly you were gripping the counter as you felt Eren’s fingers delve into your wet heat, gathering the slick juices from your glistening folds.
"I've been craving the taste of you since you came back.” He said with a sly smile on his face as he withdrew them to suck obnoxiously.
You knew Eren was annoying but you had no idea he was a tease like this. The mere sight and sound of him sucking his fingers loudly was making your heart race.
Without warning, the man downright delved between your legs, underneath your skirt.
Involuntarily causing you to grind your heat onto his tongue when he gave a long, languid stripe on your core. Your fingers having a death grip on his brown tresses.
You shivered, your nerves set alight as you felt his tongue twirl around and suck the folds.
Almost with abandon, he wrapped his lips around your hardened clit, alternating to run the back of his tongue across your flesh.
“Eren…!” You gasped out, eyes squinting shut as your thighs quivered.
Eren felt a wave of satisfaction when he heard your breathy moans and felt you shake and shudder when the tip of his tongue drug across your soaked slit.
He moved his hands to your hips, gripping them in place in an attempt to stop you from moving.
"Does that feel good, baby?" He spoke, voice muffled and causing vibrations against your core which nearly made you fall out.
“S’good…!” You whined, practically yanking the roots of his locks which only spurred him on.
He didn’t need to ask if you were close, what with the way your thighs suffocated him and the way you writhed.
“That’s it…” He said darkly as your juices gushed into his mouth. He pulled away, not wanting to push you over the edge.
Though you were satisfied, there was still a primal urge within you craving more. Maybe it was the culmination of the tension you all had.
Eren let out a gasp when you shoved him with force onto the tiled floors.
“Easy there…!” He chuckled but he couldn’t lie that your eagerness made his already hard cock throb.
He slapped your bare ass cheek under the wrinkled skirt as he grinned.
“You know just how to get me goin’, don’t you?-“
The wisecrack died on the tip of his tongue the moment you fisted his shaft, freeing it from his jeans and designer boxers.
He arched his back as he let out a hiss at the grip around his cock, feeling a surge of pleasure and desire shoot through him as you rubbed his tip against your folds, gasping.
Without another word, he wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you over, positioning himself between your legs. He ground his hips against yours, sliding his cock up and down your slick folds before finally plunging into you, feeling the tight heat of your sex enveloping him.
“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me.” He said with a strained voice, the sound of bare skin slapping bouncing across the walls of the dim store.
Eren grunted in satisfaction as you whimpered and whined, feeling his pleasure build as he thrust into your velvet walls with increasing intensity.
He set a rough and relentless pace, driving into you again and again, his hips snapping against yours.
"Moan for me, angel," He breathed out, gripping your hips tightly as he continued to relentlessly pound into you. "Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."
Your eyes wrenched open slightly and you looked up at Eren, his hair was slightly mussed, probably from burying himself between your legs earlier, and sweat was trickling down his temple as his chest heaved.
His nose and cheeks were slightly flushed red, he was nearing his peak.
But you’d never seen Eren like this before. It almost felt like this was a forbidden sight to you. His eyes glazed over as his eyes raked over your bunched-up shirt, exposing your breasts.
You reached out a hand to cup his face, and you traced the pad of your thumb along his lower lip. The simple action had Eren’s cock throbbing as he let out a whine.
“Shit, you’re sucking me in like crazy…” He said with a strained laugh, his hand gripping your wrist. “Want me to go harder? Like it when I fuck you like this?”
You nodded vigorously, gasping as your head felt hazy with arousal.
His thumb brushed down to circle your clit lazily which teetered you off the edge.
Eren let out a guttural growl from deep within his chest, as you cried out his name, feeling your walls clamping and fluttering wildly around his length.
His fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, his pace becoming more frenzied as he drove into you with increasing intensity. He felt his release building.
"Let go for me baby," He said lowly, as he pinched your nipple as continued to pound into you. "Cum for me now."
With one final thrust, he felt your walls spasm around him as you reached your high. Moments later, he exploded within you, spilling into you and painting your walls white.
He choked out as he buried his face into the crook of your neck and you simply draped an arm over his shoulder.
After a moment, he lifted his head to meet your eyes with a cheeky grin.
“I wanna do it in the bed next.” He chuckled.
“Earn it, Yeager.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle slap on his back as you leaned in to brush your lips against his, him leaning into it.
authors note: 👨🏽‍🦯 i’m a sellout but we move, reblog if u enjoyed 😭
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jupitercomet · 8 months
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The Trial Run: Chapter Eight
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summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.
warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley (Bradley’s frat is completely fictional and in no way meant to reference any existing frats), language, descriptions of a panic attack, brief mention of throwing up, talks of parental death, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
word counts - 3.3k
the trial run masterlist
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Makayla: what are you doing now?
Bradley feels his phone buzz against the shiny, faux wood table at the casual sports bar he and the guys had chosen to watch the Phillies game. Normally Bradley would have been just fine watching the game at home, his mom had a pretty big television and she never tried to trick herself into thinking that her son wasn’t drinking while he was away at college so she didn’t care too much when the boys pulled out a beer or two.
But Admiral Simpson absolutely hated the mess, and didn’t care much for sports either, and with his return looming over Bradley’s head, he just didn’t want to deal with it. So he, Jake, and Javy decided to find a sports bar that was close by and watch the game there. His mom tried to assure him that it wouldn’t matter, but Bradley Bradshaw isn’t 15 years old anymore and he knows enough to know that just because his mom wants something to be true doesn't mean that it is. 
But the buzz of his phone pulls him from these thoughts and Bradley looks down to see Makayla’s name lighting up his screen. He types out a quick reply to her message, moving his thumb to press the send button before he hesitates. You always like when he sends pictures. Opening the camera quickly, Bradley shoots a somewhat awkward smile, angling to get some of the bar in the background before sending it off with a text.
Watching the Phillies game
Bradley watches the three gray dots appear as Makayla takes several seconds to respond. He’s almost anxious for her response, which he doesn’t fully understand because he knows he shouldn’t be. Something about talking to her always put him a bit on edge.
Makayla is a very particular girl. She has strong opinions on things and tends to make sure everybody knows them. Bradley isn’t blind to how sometimes unnecessarily cruel she can be—this whole date requirement being a prime example of it—but Bradley thinks that girls like her are allowed to be.
He lets out a breath when she still hasn’t responded, dropping his phone screen side down and letting the conversation die as Jake and Javy come back with their drinks.
“Has the score changed?” Jake glances at one of the many televisions pointed in their direction while Bradley shakes his head. All three boys have their eyes trained on the TV and Bradley lets out a small mumble of thanks when Javy passes him his beer. The only thing that draws them away from the Phillies game is Bradley’s phone buzzing on the table again. Jake grins when he sees Bradley scramble for it. “That the girlfriend?”
Makayla: right
Bradley clears his throat, looking up from his phone. “Yeah.”
“I gotta say, dude,” Jake continued to rib him playfully. “Your sister’s best friend? I did not see that coming.”
“Honestly, I’m just happy to see him move on from Makayla,” Javy joins in the teasing, but Bradley can see how sincere his words are.
His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Taking in Bradley’s expression, Jake scoffs in disbelief. “Come on, man. Sometimes I’m not convinced you even like her.” 
“What?” Bradley’s fingers clench defensively against his beer.
His eyes flit between Jake and Javy and, to his surprise, both boys seem to be in agreement, having noticed something Bradley wasn’t even aware of. What do they mean he doesn’t like Makayla? Of course he likes Makayla. It’s the whole reason he’s doing any of this.
“I can’t be the only one who realizes that she’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of.”
Jake’s words dump over Bradley like ice water, so chilling that, for a moment, he genuinely thinks someone’s poured beer on him. She’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of. In some capacity, Bradley guesses that’s true. Makayla comes from a wealthy, established family, she was raised with the gender values Admiral Simpson wishes his mom had. Now that he thinks about it, Makayla’s probably the only person he knows who would not only survive, but enjoy a dinner with his stepdad.
Before Bradley can say anything to argue that of course he likes Makayla, a resounding crack rings out through the sports bar and the patrons jump up in excitement at the home run playing on the large TVs. Jake and Javy join them quickly, not nearly as affected as Bradley as he sits on his vinyl seat dumbly. He takes a long sip of his beer before shaking the feeling off and trying to forget everything long enough to enjoy the game.
Again, his phone buzzes on the table.
Makayla: also you should shave that mustache before you get back
Bradley purses his lips, the comment striking a cord in a way that has him locking his phone instead of responding to Makayla. Bradley doesn’t consider himself to be insecure—not in the slightest—but he’s finding it harder and harder to focus on the game, something nagging in the back of his head that he’s doing something wrong.
He uses the feeling of his cool beer bottle against his palm to ground himself, but he still finds himself shifting in his seat every few seconds, an uncomfortable itch overtaking him. From his peripheral, he catches his phone resting on the table. He can suddenly feel his keys inside his back pocket.
“I have to go.”
Javy and Jake turn away from the game in confusion—and truthfully Bradley also can’t believe those words just left his mouth. “What?”
“I just—” Bradley clears his throat, getting up almost frantically as he grabs his phone from the table. “I remembered I have to do something. Just— Tell me how it ends.”
With that, he’s leaving the table before Jake and Javy can even respond. He lets out a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He’s barely had a sip of alcohol and feels confident to drive, but he stays sitting in his Bronco for several minutes anyway. Keeping his gaze trained on the steering wheel, Bradley tries to feel like he’s not swallowing rocks. 
He looks down to find his hands shaking and he bites down on his lip, squeezing his eyes closed. “Shit.”
He knows what’s coming. He can feel it, like that feeling when you’re about to vomit. Bradley shoves his palms into his eye sockets, leaning back in his seat until his head is touching the headrest. Tears prick at his waterline, even though his eyes are closed tight, and each one feels almost painful as his throat gets smaller and smaller.
Bradley all but throws himself forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. He keeps reminding himself that this will pass—it always does. But the waiting is the worst part and Bradley just can’t believe he’s trapped himself in the parking lot of a sports bar, hiding under the view of the windows as he waits to calm down.
His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth and he pulls at his hair as his breaths get sharper and quicker. The pain stings against his scalp, but it does little to distract him. Truthfully, Bradley should have known this was coming. It’s been looming over him since he stepped foot in San Diego and, if anything, he’s just grateful it happened when he was alone.
His fingers are still shaking, worse now, and his breathing pattern is entirely erratic. He tries to slow it down, but deep breaths feel like cement in his chest, and he just can’t. Bradley feels like a kid again, hiding in a stall in the boys bathroom until he was strong enough to come out. It’s the same quivering breath against his palms, the same stubborn tears rolling down his cheeks, he’s still that same kid. And he hates it.
Bradley hates that he’s not over this. Because he should be. A few words from his friends and a text shouldn’t be able to do this to him. But it does. And it is. And now he’s sitting in his car trying not to hyperventilate in the parking lot of a sports bar while his friends sit inside, none the wiser.
Bradley really hates coming home.
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“Are you okay?”
Bradley needs you to stop asking him that every time you see him. Because you shouldn’t be able to tell that he’s not okay. The two of you only somewhat know each other and if you can tell that something’s going on, then he’s not hiding it as well as he thought.
“Fine,” he says simple, actively trying to ignore the worry in your eyes as you look at him.
He thought he waited long enough before coming inside to make it look like he hadn’t just been crying, but under your attentive gaze he keeps purposefully avoiding your eye so you don’t notice.
“Did something happen?” You try again gently. “I thought you were supposed to be watching the game with Javy and Jake.”
“I missed you.” The words come out before Bradley can process them, his own voice almost unrecognizable to him as he spits the words out instinctively.
Your lips part slowly and then he watches them curl up in a small smile. “It hasn’t even been an hour, Bradley.” You tease him, but it’s soft, as you take a step closer to him.
Bradley relaxes just slightly, allowing you into his space as some of his anxiety washes off of him. He nods. “Exactly. Too long.”
You smile again, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders while Bradley’s finds purchase on your hips. And then, just because he felt like it, he dips down to catch your lips, kissing you slowly. He tries to focus on the feeling of you, the softness of your lips, the way your nails scratch at the base of his curls every so often. Sighing against your lips, Bradley pulls you closer, his shoulders finally sagging.
“Okay, ew.” Giselle’s voice cuts the room and you pull away from Bradley quickly. Bradley honestly couldn’t give less of a shit about what his sister saw the two of you doing together, but you’re clearly embarrassed, looking down bashfully to hide your fluster.
Bradley shoots his sister a deadpanned glare. “Can we help you?”
“Oh, I was just looking for my best friend,” Giselle plops a grape in her mouth from where they’re sitting on the kitchen counter. “Making sure she hadn’t died or anything.”
Bradley grunts, the hand he still has on you squeezing your hip. “Well, she hasn’t.”
“Yeah, but she’s kissing you. That’s a fate worse than death.”
“Giselle,” you cut in before Bradley can respond. You and Giselle share a look, seemingly communicating to each other without words. Whatever your trying to tell her gets across because his sister sighs, holding her hands up in surrender.
“Fine,” Giselle nods and Bradley watches as she grabs another grape. Then she shoots you another look—equally unreadable to him—and you nod. “I’ll leave you to your sucking face then.”
Bradley waits for her to leave the kitchen before he looks down at you. “Sucking face?”
You smile slightly. “It’s a long story.” Turning back into his hold, you place your hands on his chest, smoothing down the fabric of his t-shirt. For a second, Bradley thinks you’re going to kiss him again, but instead you ask, “Is the Phillies game still on?”
“Should be,” Bradley glances at the stove clock. It’s only been an hour and a half, there was still a significant chunk of the game left.
Though, at this point, Bradley had no intention of watching it, he doesn’t say anything as you lead him around the house, grabbing your laptop from Giselle’s room and then heading into his. He’s still quiet as you manage to find—what may be an illegal—site to watch the game on, setting it up on the foot of his bed.
“Come on,” you pat the spot next to you and briefly Bradley thinks that you don’t look at all out of place in his bedroom.
He moves wordlessly to sit beside you, your thighs brushing only just as you both get comfortable on his bed. He doesn’t really know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, and you seem to show no signs of wanting to tell him, so all he can do is sit somewhat awkwardly next to you as he watches the small screen of your computer. 
You lean a bit closer to him. “You’re gonna have to explain to me what’s going on though.” There’s a small smile on your face and Bradley’s grateful that you finally seem to be picking up on the fact that he just wants to pretend that everything's okay.
“Sure, sunshine.”
Bradley finds himself getting more invested in the game as the minutes tick by, his episode in the parking lot slowly forgotten as he explains terms and players to you in quiet mumbles. By his third commercial break, Bradley’s starting to feel more like himself, his grip on his emotions tightening and his mood rising.
He glances at you next to him. You hardly notice, now drawn into the Phillies game with a concentration Bradley can’t help but find adorable. He looks at the way your biceps are pressed against each other and lifts his arm just slightly. It’s when he tries to raise his arm again that you turn to look at him.
“No way.” A large grin overtakes your face as you look between him and his arm.
Bradley furrows his brows. “What?”
“Oh my god,” you laugh. “You’re about to do the thing. You’re so about to do the thing.”
Bradley can only look confused. “What thing?” When you only laugh harder, he makes a face. “What thing, sunshine?”
“The thing,” you hardly elaborate. “You were about to do the yawn thing where you put your arm around me.”
“What?” Bradley pulls back slightly in defense. “No, I—” When you just shoot him a look, Bradley purses his lips. You laugh again.
“I cannot believe the Bradley Bradshaw pulls moves that cliche.”
“Shut up,” Bradley shoulders you good-naturedly. “Don’t girls like that shit?”
You snort. “Just admit you’re losing your touch, Bradshaw.”
“I’m losing my—” Bradley laughs incredulously. “Alright, fine,” he gets up, holding out his hand to help you off his bed.
Confusion flashes across your features as he helps you up, leading you out of his room, the Phillies game now forgotten. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you that Bradley Bradshaw can be very,” Bradley turns around to shoot you a teasing smile. “Very smooth.”
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Bradley can firmly live in the truth that he is smooth, the expression on your face proof enough when he pulls up to an empty part of the beach. In the late afternoon, the ocean sparkles, crashing and ebbing against the shore and the breeze is just cool enough to make the beating sun bearable.
You hop out of the car quickly and Bradley takes his time grabbing both your bags as you lay out towels on the abandoned sand. For whatever reason—even after all these years, Bradley still doesn’t know—every time he’s visited this part of the beach, there hasn’t been another soul on it. In the back of his mind, there’s a thought that this might be because it’s private property, but Bradley hasn’t been caught yet, so he figures it’s fine.
He sets your bags down next to you, sitting on the towel next to yours as he looks out on the ocean. Taking a deep breath, Bradley lets the ocean air fill his lungs, finally letting the events of the day wash off him. Makayla’s text comes back to him though, nagging at his brain, and he lets out a small sigh.
He knew it was stupid to be that thrown about a comment about his mustache. Even thinking the words felt stupid. But to him, it didn’t feel stupid. There was very little that Bradley has left of his dad. He doesn’t have the house, or the garage, or that vintage popcorn machine. He doesn’t even have all the memories, a lot of them he was too young to remember.
But when Bradley first started growing facial hair, it felt like he had something else of his dad’s. It was an embarrassing mustache at first sure, Giselle and his friends teased him to no end, but it grew and he’ll never forget the day his mom looked at him and sucked in a breath. Because Bradley looked just like his dad.
And yes, obviously Bradley took pride in his mustache when most of his frat brothers could only grow patchy beards at best. But he liked looking in the mirror and seeing his dad—or the reminder of his dad. He liked knowing that no matter what, no matter the choices his mom made, or people like Admiral Simpson, he will always be Nick Bradshaw’s son. 
Bradley didn’t expect Makayla to understand that. How could she when he’s never said anything? But there’s something that stings about it, like she doesn’t get it. Bradley sucks in a sudden breath, a thought hitting him. Maybe no one gets it.
You shift next to him and Bradley’s so in his own head that, in a moment of insecurity, he turns to you. “Do you think I should shave my mustache?”
You look at him quietly for several seconds, the question hanging in the air as you cock your head slightly like you’re deep in thought. Bradley tries not to seem nervous as you examine him.
“Well, you should do whatever makes you happy, but I like your mustache.” You say finally, climbing into his lap and smoothing your thumbs along the hairs. “Feel like you wouldn’t really be you without it.”
“You think?” Bradley’s hands fall to your hips as you straddle his thighs.
“Yeah, it’s very Bradley Bradshaw.” You trace your thumbs along his mustache again and Bradley’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “And I happen to like Bradley Bradshaw.” You press a quick peck to his lips. “Very much.”
Bradley grins, relief flooding his veins, and he moves one of his hands to grab your chin so that he can kiss you again. “Well, I like you too, sunshine. Very much.” He rolls you down on one of your towels, being mindful of the sand, before deepening the kiss. 
This is not the first time Bradley Bradshaw has made out on a beach, but even Bradley can admit that this time is different. It’s not that rushed, sort of “teenagers hooking up before they get caught” kiss that causes Bradley to fumble with bra clasps and get sand everywhere. His hands aren’t rushing over your body, grabbing and squeezing like he doesn’t have enough time. With you, Bradley can’t help but go slow. Slow enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off your body. Slow enough that he can hear every sound he pulls from your lips. Slow enough that the thought of going any faster doesn’t even cross his mind.
Bradley pulls away from you suddenly, watching as your dazed eyes blink away to confusion. Still hovering over you, he looks down. “What was that? Oh—” Bradley meets your eye again with a cheeky grin. “My mustache says it likes you too.”
You blink at him as you process his words and then throw your head back with a cackle. “Oh my god. That was worse than the yawn thing!”
“Oh, you want worse than the yawn thing?” Bradley traps you under him, a smirk forming on his lips. “I can make it dance for you, is that what you want?”
“Do not— Bradley!”
Somewhere in his bag, under a spare t-shirt and extra towel, Bradley’s phone lights up with a text notification that remains unnoticed as he goes back to kissing you through peals of laughter.
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I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold​​ if you want to be notified when I post
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sickuma · 10 months
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ORPHIC (2) — A Simon Riley fic.
❱ This is the last part of HIRAETH ! I don't want to drag it any longer than this. It's so much fun writing this and exploring more words to add to my vocab! Everyone's been nice (except when they give me their therapy bills) I love you guys srsly, You make writing so much more fun <3
I should have gotten this done HOURS ago, but I had to do stuff and just finished working out T-T but hey, writing block isn't killing me rn.
ꜝ?This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!
➴ SYNOPSIS — Ghost mourns of what's lost; reminiscing of the memories, apologizing, begging for you to hear his desperation for your presence as he sat Infront of your tombstone.
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QUERENCIA — (n.) A place from which a one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.
“Relationships in the military,”
He spoke, pausing to stare at your eyes. Searching for hesitance,
“They tend to be tragic.”
“But we’ll be together, no?”
“look , kid, it's not as easy as it sounds—”
“Do you feel the same way?”
You cut him off, not giving him the chance to speak. Catching ‘the’ simon ghost riley off guard, “Yes.” he breathes out.
“Then I don't see the problem, lieutenant, I love you, you love me. That's what barney said.”
He stares at the void, remembering yet again another memory he kept special in his heart. He wondered if you had not pursued him at that exact moment. Would he still feel the raw pain that plagued his heart now? Would it still hurt all the same?
If you hadn't stubbornly shown him how determined and real your love for him was, would he still be in this position, dreading every day that comes knowing the person he needs the most was taken from him.
throwing his gear onto the side. Making his way back to his quarters without giving anyone a second glance,
Ever since you've been gone, the base has been awfully tense. The rest understood his situation, trying their best to be there for him, all while attending to their own duties. The past few weeks had been the hardest, They could tell Ghost had been on edge.
He’d only speak to them if it's necessary, otherwise he’d be kept to himself. As if the past had repeated itself, there appeared a gap between his friends and him. He was mourning, and he plans to keep mourning,
If that means having you on his mind,
Then he’ll mourn forever.
“Ghost?”
Price’s eyes widened at the sight of Ghost, 
It’s the first month since you've passed away and the rest of the team planned to pay you a visit to show respect and also let you know how missed you are, not just by them, but also by Ghost who seemed to have shut his whole world out.
He saw how Ghost shown a tough facade when he would hear him call for her,
At night, when everyone slept, Ghost cried and wept for you to come back. Begging aimlessly for your return,
Begging endlessly to feel your arms around him again.
Price didn't expect him to be joining them. He hadn't been. The team visited your resting place a couple of times before, he’d invite him but he’ll make up reasons not to go. Price figured he still hasn't accepted that's where your body lays,
The ride to their destination felt almost eerie, the tension leading the hour long drive. Nobody dared to speak, not a single word.
Ghost’s mind resides elsewhere, watching the scenery they drove past. Chest heaving up and down as he struggles to fathom that he’d finally visit you, 
No—he was more occupied with thinking about how it’s only been a month.
It felt longer than that. It felt longer than his training days. He felt more exhausted, more agitated, and more angry. He resents every breathing thing he comes across to,
He knew it sounded cruel, but why do they deserve to live and you don't? You have been the kindest, and yet you were taken first. He couldn't understand,
As a soldier he’d lost multiple comrades, having to face funerals—visit the cemetery, and deal with death itself. Though yours felt unreal,
It felt as if his bones were crushed. He knew how pathetic it seemed, clinging onto someone who's never coming back, but he'd rather cling onto the past if it means having to hold you close to his heart forever, where you belonged.
、 
Everyone got out of the car,
Everyone but him.
Price sighed, not planning to pry. If his breath felt shallow just by being here, he could only imagine what Ghost felt at this moment, considering it was his first time to ever be here.
A few minutes passed, and the three sat quietly at first until soap had cracked a dad joke, lifting the atmosphere just a little bit. They spoke as if you were there, sitting with them, price would constantly glace at Ghost, who sat quietly in the car. He wondered what ran through his mind.
“We should give him his own time to talk to [name].” Price groaned as he stretched when he stood up, the two following closely behind him. “He needs this.”
Ghosts' eyes caught them approaching. He felt his stomach sink. He knew he planned to wait until they finished before he took his turn as he expected himself to break down and shed tears. He didn't want them to see that. And yet he still felt his heart beat faster when they came back,
Price threw him a small smile, a smile of empathy.
As if that's his cue, he jumped out of the car. Taking slow strides towards ‘your’ direction. He never thought he could ever despise a cemetery so much in his life,
The only thing he could think of was the way you laid down there, away from his grasp.
No matter how slow he walks, he soon finds himself in front of ‘you’, oh well—a stone that only proved to him that you're gone. “Have you been waiting?”
He couldn't believe it,
He was talking to a mere stone.
But he’ll take what he can get.
“Wake up.” he stared down with an expressionless face, “enough laziness, [name]. Get up from there.”
“You can have all of the shirts you want from me, you can pluck my eyebrows, do it, you can get a puppy. Anything you want just— just wake up.”
His voice betrayed him the more he spoke, 
The longer he looked at the stone, the way he kept reading the credentials written on it, the more it felt real. Every passing second is just another evidence of your disappearance,
“You always call me mean,”
He swallowed,
“Yet you're the one who left first.” his cold gaze softened, the more he looked at the ground. Under the ground where your body laid.
Where the body of his lover slept eternally.
“How do I find you now? Now that I'm stuck here?”
He recollects his promise, the promise to reunite in your next life. It all pierced through him. He’s a soldier, yet he finds himself worrying about the most ridiculous thing. What if you'd reincarnate before he passed?
What if you leave him behind again,
What if this time you find someone else to love?
What will he be then?
“Remember when you'd go on tangents about how fascinating reincarnation and universes are? I believe you now, okay? So— so wait for me.”
He sat down, quietly enjoying the breeze. He couldn't deny the pain of the piercing ache that developed in his chest. It never really went away. He would simply distract himself.
“I find it hard to sleep again, love.”
“The bed feels colder without you in it. Do i sound cheesy? Do not make fun of me. I want to be honest. Maybe doing that would lessen the overbearing hurt in my chest. It’s just—it’s only been a month since youre gone and im already a fucking mess. I mean, look at me,”
He chuckled,
“I look rough, dont i?” he sighed, “would you still find my eyes pretty even when i tire them out by crying?”
He looked away, observing the serenity of the cemetery. He wondered how many souls wandered around, and if yours were one, and if you stood close to him.
“I feel—just terrible. When I woke up, I thought I'd finally lose it, well I did. I caused price trouble, you'd have scolded me. I really did it this time, pushing everyone away as if you'd come back to tell me off. That's not ever happening, and that's what hurts the most.” 
He spoke slowly, yet he felt out of breath.
“It feels suffocating—you know? To live without you.”
“I don't know why I woke up, I wished I didn't. Maybe then I'd be with you.”
“It’s scary, [name], so scary.” he whispered, the rasp of his voice sounding more evident. “I have no certainty if we’ll see each other again; and I need nothing more than to hold—to feel you again. To hear your voice, to take in your scent. If I have to give everything up for that, I will.”
“Anything just to have you back to me.”
He stared at the words engraved on the tomb,
“but if i have to wait decades or centuries—i will—without hesitance, without a blink, i will. For you, I'll keep being patient.”
“That's how worthy you are [name]. So wait for me please, no matter how long it takes for me to find you again, please wait.”
He spoke lowly, but certainly, no matter where you are, he hoped you'd recognize him, hoping you’d recognize his eyes you loved so much,
“Even if it means i'll have to die again and again, i’ll keep searching for you until we’re back home until i can hear your voice call my name again.”
“Wait for me, [name].”
Hoping you’d recognize your Simon.
、 
Somewhere along the memories,
、 
Somewhere along the universe,
、 
Somewhere along life and death,
、 
Somewhere along—
、 
“Simon.”
“Pardon?” he looked at you, puzzled expression written all over his face. “Whatd you just say?”
“My simon.”
We're home.
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breakandbuildfiction · 2 months
Text
My rant about Danny Phantom and DPxDC tropes
This is just going to be a listing and rant about some of the Danny Phantom and DPxDC story and prompt trends I tend to see around Tumblr. I want to make it clear that I don’t care if you like the things I don’t like or dislike the things I do. Everyone is entitled to their own tastes so long as they don’t harm others and that includes headcannons and fanfics. So don’t be a dick.
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Danny is the Ghost King: I admit I really like this one, but I also admit it doesn’t make a ton of sense.
I like OP Danny, I think it’s fun and it fits how several of his enemies can easily be called gods or have global-level powers— Vortex with his storms and Ember with her mind control/power siphoning being key examples— and having him basically be the leader of an entire infinite dimension filled with several godlike beings makes him come off as super badass.
On the other hand, this headcanon typically leans into Danny getting the job via Right Of Conquest against Pariah Dark. The thing is, Pariah wasn’t a recognized ruler. He was a tyrant and conqueror that few if any actually wanted to follow. He didn’t have ‘divine right’ or the willing submission of his subjects. He was the Ghost King because he had the power and desire to force his will against the rest of the Realms. Hell, he was so hated that a cabal of super-powerful/ancient spirits deposed him and locked him away for hundreds/thousands/millions of years and NO ONE other than Vlad tried to free him! So Danny beating him shouldn’t suddenly make him a legitimate ruler.
That all said if you go with the less used reasoning that the Ghost Zone NEEDS to have a single ruler for whatever reason and Danny beating the previous singular ruler/being one of the few ghosts/spirits who have the power and fame required for the position I have no problem with the idea.
Danny is Dani’s dad: Another thing I like, but also another thing that gets messy when you think about it.
Cloning as I understand it basically gives you a genetic twin, not a genetic child. So even with Dani’s genes being modified somehow she’d read more like Danny’s sister than his daughter. So unless you want to throw in that Vlad used some third party’s genes to help stabilize her, Dani is not genetically Danny’s kid.
Ignoring genetics and sticking to emotions and such, emotionally and mentally Danny is a teenager and Dani is somewhere between 8 and 12, way too close of an age difference for Danny to really take on a paternal role for Dani. And even if you say that Dani is mentally younger due to her being force grown it would still leave Danny as a very young teenage parent of a preteen and Dani in a very weird state as her physical and mental development would be at gross odds with how she can filter information.
If you deage Dani to a toddler however and have Danny be AT LEAST 16, things could make more sense as far as them seeing each other as parent and child go.
Danny gives off Uncanny Valley vibes: This has no basis in canon, be it for full ghosts or Halfas or anything else. That said, I love this idea and have no further notes.
Danny is an engineering genius: This is one that comes up pretty sporadically, and I guess it MIGHT have some basis in canon if you stretch some things, but it’s not something that was ever explicitly stated or even heavily implied. I still like it though and think it’s really fun when used for things other than just saying Danny is smart.
Tucker is a master hacker: I get where this is coming from and I understand the vibes, plus it has more of a basis than Danny being an engineering genius, but this also doesn’t really have any real basis in canon. The only ‘hacking’ that he really does is against Skulker and that involves the ghost first assimilating Tucker’s PDA, giving him a back door into Skulker’s systems to do one specific thing. So while fun in some cases, I don’t like it when it gets blown out of proportion and having Tucker being on par with the likes of Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, or Cyborg as a computer genius. He is smart and he is a programmer, but he’s not a super genius.
Everyone is Liminal: I don’t know who popularized this idea, but I don’t like it. The idea that just being around ectoplasm makes someone liminal sounds like something that the Fenton parents would have been at least vaguely aware of if they were already smart enough to wear hazmat suits for protection when working with ectoplasm, so if they knew it would make people basically proto ghosts/ensure they would become ghosts, they sure as hell wouldn’t have set up shop in a city.
Not only that but we already know that the GIW is willing to use heavy artillery and lethal force on people they think MIGHT be under the influence of a ghost or could be ghostly themselves. So if a whole town was showing up as being so ‘ecto-contaminated’ that they are not even registering as fully human anymore you KNOW they’d start coming in to commit genocide.
The GIW isn’t a legal government body/their actions have violated their purview: Admittedly this one isn’t very common, but I HAVE seen it used a few times, so I’m going to talk about it.
First, I really like this because it avoids the trap of just saying ‘Oh the government is inherently evil and wants nothing more than to commit war crimes and genocide’, so big points there. Beyond that though I also just think it makes sense. I mean the US Government has a LOT of departments and I can see them having a small agency dedicated to keeping track of ‘supposedly’ paranormal shit for one reason or another, but I can’t see them getting a lot of funding— like the amount of discretionary funds needed to buy out all of Fentonworks— without them having to bring up the evidence before Congress and the Senate. From there there would definitely be ethical concerns regarding their actions, legislation would be introduced en-mass, and it would cause a national if not international uproar.
So for the GIW to work they’d either need to be a whole sale corrupt and rouge agency taking money from third parties— like Vlad— and going way beyond whatever authority they might have been legitimately granted to do most of the shit they end up doing, or they were never a government body to begin with but a special interest group funded and staffed by fanatics from around the world and are committing several additional crimes in addition to war crimes by impersinating a government agency.
The Anti-Ecto Acts: I honestly can’t remember if these are canon in some form or not, but I see them brought up a lot so I’m talking about them either way.
These make NO SENSE.
Getting something like this through Congress and the Senate would be INSANELY difficult even if you had evidence of an immediate threat. You can say ‘they hid it in another bill’ all you like but that kind of thing is way harder than you think. Even minor bills about laws and regulations that are just being put through for renewal get read over to make sure things aren’t slipped into them. And bigger, more complex laws take months if not YEARS to get passed and end up getting combed over with a fine comb. There would be no way these Acts could be passed without it being a major event that would be dragged out and debated for ages seeing as it’s literally about declaring a complex species non-sentient and opening them for no-holds-barred scientific experimentation and termination. Religious concerns would be brought up, ethical bodies would be formed and disbanded every day, calls would be made for third-party research, and more than a few people would demand that diplomacy be tried.
And if you tie this into DPxDC it makes even LESS sense as it would be against several laws, acts, and clauses that are meant to protect metahumans– please note that metahuman does not just mean having the metagene in DC, it means having extra-human abilities and powers including magic or alien blood.
Sam and Tucker have powers: I mean, there were entire episodes dedicated to Tucker being jealous about Danny having power and Sam pushing Danny to use his powers for social and/or political causes, but I can get behind the idea of the trio all having powers. So long as Sam and Tucker’s powers aren’t based around ghosts at least.
A big point of Danny Phantom’s story is that ghosts were super rare and believed to not exist before the start of the show and that Danny and Vlad’s powers are unheard-of anomalies caused by the Doctors Fentons’ experiments and creations so having other people get ghost powers in more ‘natural’ ways really undermines that and isn’t supported by canon at all. Yes Tucker was being used to resurrect a Pharaoh or something and Sam was the favored puppet of Undergrowth, but that doesn’t mean they would KEEP their powers after the ghosts giving them to them were removed from play. We see this in the episode where a bunch of Casper students get infected by ghost bugs, they got powers while infected and they lost them when the ghosts were removed. Beyond that we also have the time Jazz was almost sacrificed by Johnny to get Kitty back into the living world, she never got any powers from that despite being infused with Kitty’s power and essence and when said essence was removed she returned to a fully mortal human teenager with no powers.
Make Sam a witch or give Tucker nanite implants or something and I have no problem with this idea.
Danny becomes the Ancient of Space: I’ve already said that I like OP Danny, but I don’t think this title makes sense.
Yes I like giving Danny space powers and/or an eldritch space form, but I don’t like calling Danny the Ancient of Space because we don’t know how a ghost gets that title. Giving him this title seems to stem heavily from Space being the equal of Time which is Clockwork’s domain, but the thing is Clockwork isn’t called the Ancient of Time, he’s called the Master of Time. So I just generally feel like calling Danny the Master of Space fits better even if Ancient of Space sounds cooler.
Now onto more DPxDC exclusive stuff–
Jason is a Halfa/a developing Halfa: This is another one of those things where I just think goes too hard against the lore of Danny Phantom to make sense. Just dying and coming back to life does not make someone a Halfa, even if they don’t come back as fully alive. Not only that but it takes a LOT of ectoplasm and power to make a Halfa with Vlad and Danny being blasted with an opening portal and Dani being specifically grown from the DNA and ectoplasm of an existing Halfa. It just feels like its cheapening the existence of Hafas if they could have been created at any point in history using natural resources or general necromancy magic.
The Lazarus Pits are just rancid Ectoplasm: This just doesn’t work in my mind. Yes they are both green and are connected to death, but they don’t function or act anything like each other. Ectoplasm has shown no indication that it can be used to heal wounds or that it can be used to resurrect the dead outside of the creation of Hafas. The Lazarus pits have showcased no ability to be used as an energy source or for the waters to be in any state other than liquid, though it is a highly flammable substance in some interpretations while Ectoplasm can apparently be volatile enough to explode if not properly treated and filtered.
This idea also just cheapens both the Pits and Ectoplasm in different ways, with the Pits making it so Ectoplasm isn’t nearly as rare or tied to ghostly phenomena in the mortal world as we were lead to believe and Ectoplasm being readily available post-Fenton Portal activation making the constant search and hoarding of the Pits kind of useless. That and the Fentons apparently have Ectoplasm filters that I’m guessing could at least partially purify the Pits.
Backtracking a bit to the Jason is a Hafa/developing Halfa thing, a common way for that to be implemented is by saying the Pits are rancid Ectoplasm and he’s got a stunted Core. Well if that was the case than Ra’s Al Ghul would be just as far along as a Halfa as Jason if not being a fully fledged one himself at this point because while he might not have stayed dead as long as Jason in a single stretch– depending on how you look at the timeline of Jason’s revival– he did definitely spend more communicative time being dead over the centuries he’s been alive.
And finally, we know what rancid/corrupted Ectoplasm does to a person. It gives them Ecto-Acne. Which at best puts you in the hospital for years before giving you superpowers and usually would just slowly and painfully kill you.
Danny goes to Gotham: This one really just depends on WHY he goes to Gotham. Like, there’s nothing wrong with having a character go to a new city as the basis for a crossover, but I feel like it should make sense at least you know? And to be fair, most of the posts I’ve seen that talk about Danny going to Gotham do in fact make sense. So yeah, solid trope.
Danny and Damien are Twins: I have no problem with this in a vacuum, but I think people take it too far and ignore things like basic logic. Namely, the fact that for them to be secret twins then you have to acknowledge their looks. If they are fraternal twins then there is no real issue here, but if they are supposed to look super alike or even be capable of being mistaken for each other then there is the minor issue of their ethnicities.
No one ever suspects that Danny isn’t Jack Fenton’s son, and since both Jack and Maddie Fenton are caucasian, that means that Danny looks fully caucasian. Meanwhile, Damien is at very least one-quarter Arabic through his mother– I can’t recall if Talia is one hundred percent Arabic or not but I know Ra’s is– and is often depicted as having at least a dusky skin tone. So if you want them to be identical twins you’d have to say that both Damien and Danny appear to be completely white ethnically.
Maddie Fenton is a former member of the League of Assassins: Two issues with this: One, the League isn’t exactly big on letting people walk away from it, and Maddie isn’t exactly trying to hide from them. And two, we have seen Maddie’s canonical biological sister so unless both of them got away– which is even less likely than one person being allowed to leave– and only Alicia is smart enough to stay low-key, this one doesn’t make much sense.
Danny is dating Jason Todd: I get it, Jason is the second hottest Batfam member and he has some surface level similarities with their temporary white streaks and dead guy themes. But outside of that this one just doesn’t make sense. At least not to me.
For hobbies/civilian life, Jason is semi-canonically and very heavily fan-canonly a literature nerd. Danny hates his English class. Danny is often depicted as liking rock music and video games in his downtime, Jason… I don’t know his music taste is, but he is a neat and tidy book nerd.
For vigilante/hero life, Jason is extremely violent and open to using lethal options to the point where he has attempted to kill at least one of his brothers in nearly every timeline and is a mass murderer/serial killer with a higher body count than some of Batman’s rogues. Danny won’t even keep his worst enemies like Skulker trapped in the Fenton Thermos long-term and never even tries to injure potentially dangerous humans like the Guys In White.
These two personalities aren’t a case of being mix and matched, they are very strongly opposed to each other on a philosophical level and a moral level.
Danny is dating Tim Drake: Again, I get where this comes from, and to be fair it makes a bit more sense than Danny X Jason in so far as Tim not being a violent bipolar and him actually seeming to share some hobbies with Danny, but it still doesn’t work in my mind. That stuff that Vlad did to cause Danny to call him a fruitloop? Tim has done almost all of it. He’s a stalker, he clones people when he can’t have the real version, he has used his resources to fuck with people– though Tim’s actions in that sense aren’t nearly as bad as Vlad’s–, he has gone batshit crazy in grief before… need I go on?
So yeah, as much as I like the idea of neurotic sleep-deprived heroes falling into each other’s arms, this doesn’t work. Tim is too fucked up for Danny to want to get involved with. It would be too much like Maddie deciding to give Vlad a shot.
Danny is dating Cassandra Cain: Not as popular as Danny X Jason or Danny X Tim, but I’ve seen a couple of these.
This has some of the same problems as Danny X Jason in that they don’t seem to have any real hobbies in common, but it has the advantage in that their temperaments and personalities are at least somewhat more in line with each other. They both really like and really don’t like fighting, they both have issues with their parents who want them to follow in their footsteps while also being open to killing them, they latch onto friend groups as family, are both anti-killing despite being super lethal living weapons, they tend to be pretty chill out of combat situations to the point where they can even be blase about pretty crazy shit, et cetera. But they don’t have many if any overlapping interests… then again, most people tend to say that Cass and Stephanie are pretty close friends, and I think that is canon in some timelines, and as I will be talking about soon Danny and Steph have a fair bit in common so… yeah.
This one has some really good fanfics running for it though, such as ‘lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood’ by Halfgone over on AO3. A fic that I highly recommend.
Danny is dating Stephanie Brown: Even rarer than Danny X Cass as far as I have been able to see, but it’s also the one that makes the most sense in my eyes. The same snarky attitude, love of puns and messing with the people they are fight, they both have issues with their parents, they fight for things that their fathers’ are completely opposed to, and depending on the DC timeline and your stance on Danny being Dani’s father both are teenaged parents.
They also don’t, as far as I can tell, have anything that makes them opposed to each other. So while this one doesn’t have a ton of civilian weight behind it, it also doesn’t have anything against it. A solid choice despite not being very popular.
I still prefer Danny X Cass or Danny X Raven though.
Danny is gay/bi: I have no problem with this. Let me say that again, I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH THIS. I think that as a fictional character being used in fanfiction things like sexuality can be altered in whatever way the writer desires– it’s different when it’s a canon continuation of an existing work, but fanfiction is anything goes– but dear gods people PLEASE pick better dating options for Danny. I know that people think Jason Todd and Tim Drake are hot and fun characters, and they are, but as I already ranted about they are NOT good dating options for Danny.
Personally, I think Cyborg works better, or some incarnations of Conner Kent.
Danny has been to Krypton: For most timelines used this requires some time travel along with the intergalactic travel, but I find this one to be very fun. Be it just Danny having visited Krypton and having some stories about the place, maybe some souvenirs, or Danny accidentally/on purpose being revered as a god of the planet. It’s a fun addition or starting point to a story.
Kryptonite is Ecto-Candy: This makes no sense and I don’t like it enough to ignore that. Krypton blew up in the mortal universe within the last fifty years according to most canon timelines and even if the ENTIRE planet became Kryptonite– which it might have to be honest, I’m not sure about that– and 50% of it fell into the Infinite Realms– which makes no sense statistically even with natural portals being a thing– that still isn’t a lot of mass for an INFINITE dimension, plus the timeline would make it a relatively very recent thing to ghosts. And that’s ignoring the fact that Kryptonite is not in any way, shape, or form the same thing as Ectoplasm no matter how you split it outside of that one issue that says Kryptonite is the crystalized screams of horror and pain of everyone who died on Krypton.
Danny is a Martian Manhunter Fanboy: No real notes here. It fits, makes sense, and is often used in a fun way. 
Danny hates rich people: This one is funny sure, but it doesn’t make sense. Sam is rich. Danny was rich for a bit. Ghost King Danny is beyond rich. Danny is often written in fanfics to be friends with the likes of Pandora and Dorthea who are both rich. Really he just doesn’t like Vlad because of who he is, it has nothing to do with him being rich.
The Justice League abandoned Amity Park: I don’t like this one. It just doesn’t seem like something the Justice League would do. They have too many heroes that specialize in the paranormal and Batman sure as hell wouldn’t let something like an interdimensional portal remain open without being super on top of it and studying it in case of a worst-case scenario like what happened in Reign Storm.
I’ve seen variants of this where the reasoning is that John Constantine labeled it a no go zone to avoid the possibility of a superhero getting possessed and used as a meat suit to cause mass destruction and chaos, which does make more sense, but if that were the case then the JLD would be aware of the situation and would at the very least check in on some of the bigger events like when Undergrowth attacked, Vortex’s whole deal– particularly when his storm covered the entire world except for Amity park– Pariah Dark’s invasion/abduction, when Fright Knight attacked, and when Clockwork showed up and Dark Danny followed suit.
So really this idea just seems like a way to include shallow drama where Danny hates the Justice League or other heroes in general and feels upset that he, as an untrained teenager, was left to defend his town all by himself… just like Static Shock tends to do.
The Justice League thinks Danny is Immortal and hundreds/thousands of years old: No real notes here either. Danny has time traveled in canon, there are a lot of fanon things involving him doing it even more, and I can definitely see him playing into the bit to avoid being treated like a kid who needs to listen to his elders ala Billy Batson as Shazam.
Clockwork is Chronos: This requires a LOT of hoops being jumped through and a lot of ignoring of the mythology of Chronos himself, but they are both super powerful time deities so… I see where it comes from at least. And it allows for stuff like saying Danny and Wonder Woman are family.
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There are a lot more tropes and such that I’ve seen here and on dedicated fanfic sites in the Danny Phantom and DPxDC fandoms, but this is already an incredibly long post so I’m going to end things here. If anyone has anything they want to add or comments they want to give, feel free to leave them! Just don’t be a dick and don’t PM me anonymously with insults and threats. I’ll just report and block you.
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jellieland · 6 months
Text
It's just like them, thinks Martyn, miserably, To want to make these things stick.
He's always been an "act first, weasel your way out of any potential consequences later," kind of guy, so immediate, painful and permanent consequences to his recklessness strike him as unfair, unwarranted, and quite possibly a personal attack.
But, well. Here he still is anyway. What's he going to do about it?
His ankle burns where the baby zombie clawed at it. His legs ache from the dripstone, and the dripstone, and, yes, the dripstone again, and also walking off Mumbo's house and perhaps slightly misjudging his landing.
His ear keeps ringing and most of his right side stings from the creeper that decided, quite rudely, to sneak up on him and then blow up directly in his face about half a second before he could raise his shield. And the gravel later on, that he'd seen falling but still not managed to avoid, hadn't helped with any of that either.
He can feel blood dripping down his back in no less then five separate places, along with his arm, his shoulder, and the side of his head—that last one bled a lot and got onto his bandanna which was pretty annoying, actually—all from his many encounters with what he thinks were probably, at a conservative estimate, about a billion skeletons.
He doesn't quite glare up at the Secret Keeper. The healing they'd given him had been too much of a relief for that; his vision had stopped swimming, that head wound had stopped bleeding so much, and it was significantly less painful to walk. But the look he gives them is certainly glare-adjacent.
"You do know injuries aren't supposed to stick around like this, don't you?" he mutters, bitterly. "I know you like twisting stuff, but this is ridiculous. It's unnatural, is what it is!"
Someone snorts behind him.
He turns, and he sees Cleo. Neat, meticulous stitches are visible across their skin. Martyn hasn't met many people with scars before, but she's one of them.
The only new one is what looks, ironically enough, like a zombie bite on their arm, entirely healed over.
"It's really not that hard to deal with if you're just patient," she says.
"Ah," he says. "Well. That's my problem right there, then, isn't it?"
"It certainly looks like it," they say, amused. They're laughing at him again. He can't even be mad, since all in all, he totally deserves it.
"Yeah, alright," he says, a bit indignant just for the sake of what remains of his pride. "No need to rub it in! I hope you realize that if healing just worked normally, I'd be doing really well, actually."
"Hmm. Right, you do tend to throw yourself off of cliffs, and then try and work out how you'll save yourself on the way down, don't you?" She gives him a knowing look. "But look on the bright side—when you do die, you'll get to be perfectly healthy again for... I give it ten seconds. After that, you'll start making decisions."
"Hey, I'll have you know I went to the Nether for ages, and got out without a scratch on me that I didn't have when I arrived!" he retorts.
"Oh, so you can be careful, you just choose not to be?" They raise a judgemental eyebrow.
"Well... I mean." He half-shrugs, then winces. "I mean. Yeah. Yes. You know this about me."
There is a brief pause. She gives him an unreadable look, eyes catching on the blood seeping through his shirt. "...Yeah. I guess I do."
He glances over at the Secret Keeper again, bold and unmoving against the unnaturally darkened sky.
When he looks back, Cleo is still watching him. "You didn't even bandage those, did you?" they ask, with a touch of what most people would think was disdain. "Let alone stitch them up."
"I mean, no? It's not like it'll do anything, is it?" he asks, taken aback. "The good old 'Powers That Be' want us to bleed, and they want us to keep bleeding! Who am I to argue?"
She narrows her eyes as though she doesn't quite understand his point. "I'm not saying that would fix it. I don't think any of us are going to live long enough for that method of healing to work." They shrug. "Would make it hurt less, though."
Now it's his turn to narrow his eyes. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," she says. "At least, so I've heard. For me, it's mostly about making sure I don't start physically falling apart, because it's really inconvenient when that does start happening."
He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, maybe I'll give it a go if I have the time." It all sounds a bit far-fetched to him. Much better to spend time working towards completing the next secret task he gets, or persuading people to give him the healing they have to spare, rather than losing hours on something that wouldn't actually help him in the long run.
(Maybe it's an echo, maybe it's just who he is, but Martyn's time is precious, and he is not giving it up for something so monotonous. Who would find that interesting?)
"Alright," they say. "If you're sure. But no one else is going to do it for you, you know."
He snorts. "Cleo," he says. "You're funny." She, of all people, should know he's already well aware of that.
"Right," they say, dryly. "Well, unless you want anything else I think I'm done here."
"Nah, not really." he says, then pauses. Frowns.
As unconvinced as he is, she really didn't have to say that to him. She deserves at least something in return.
"I will say," he says delicately, "if that advice really does help. You should probably keep it to yourself. You know. Death game, and all that."
All at once, their expression turns cold. "I think it's my business what I choose to give up, actually," she snaps.
Martyn's eyes briefly flick over to the Secret Keeper. "I mean..."
"No. I meant what I said." They cross their arms. "It's up to other people what they choose to do with it. But what I give them is up to me." She glances at the Secret Keeper, and then back to him. "No one's ever been able to tell me what I owe, or don't owe, to anyone." They smirk, and give him a piercing look. "You know this about me."
"...Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."
There is a short silence.
"Well!" He claps abruptly. "I won't keep you!"
"No, you won't," she says. "I'd best be off. This might come as a surprise, but I do actually have better things to do than hang out around Grian's creepy rock all day."
"Fair, fair." He chuckles, and raises a hand in farewell as they leave. "See you around."
Once she's out of sight, he goes back to staring at the Secret Keeper.
It's quiet.
"They're doing pretty well this time, huh?" he says. "If she keeps going like this, she probably won't get another happy ending, will she."
The air is very still, here. It's as though the place is trapped in night, even when he can see the sun in the sky.
The Secret Keeper does not answer him.
"I know you, though," he says. "You won't let it be all about being careful. That would be boring."
The thought nags at him that Cleo hasn't sounded as though they'd found any of this boring. Surely there had to be more to it than what she'd said? There had to be.
If there wasn't, then what was the point of all this pain?
He shifts, and his shoulder twinges, and he hisses quietly with frustration.
"Things already stuck," he says, unhappily. "They already stayed. I thought that was obvious."
The rock just stands there.
Judgemental. Impartial. It's impressive how it can manage to be both.
Martyn sighs heavily, and winces, and turns away. He looks towards his extremely small, entirely copied base, and a place where the sky is capable of letting in the light.
He pokes gingerly at his head wound. It's shallow, but painful.
"Maybe just this one," he mutters. "Could repurpose my bandanna. Although I guess I should probably wash it first. That would be smart." He wipes at his face. "If I don't then blood's going to start getting in my eyes. But not in a cool way, just in a way where I'll fall in a ravine by accident or something."
Nobody responds. That's ok. He hasn't exactly endeared himself to anyone, recently.
In a game that's even more about trust than usual, there's a part of him that doesn't mind being a lone wolf, as it were. At least for now. Harder to stab someone in the back if you don't let them get behind you, right?
He can make this work. He'll just have to adapt. He's good at that, usually! He just has to find the angle.
After all, he may not be patient, but he is persistent.
And he suspects being a liar will come in handy, for this one.
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staar5384 · 7 months
Text
champange problems
neuvillette x gn!reader
hurt/no comfort, they/them pronouns, light cursing
this is slightly based off of the song champagne problems by taylor swift🫶🏼
might consider a pt. 2 if people are interested:)
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The Opera Epiclese was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. Assortments of Rainbow Roses adorned the hallways, Lumidose Bells hung like vines from the pillars. Stunning satin and silk tapestries dressed the walls in different shades of blue and purple.
Everyone there could tell something was going to happen, though no one knew what. 
When the people of Fontaine received their invitations to the event, it did not state the reasoning for it. It was presented as a formal ball. People were expected to dress and act appropriately, and it was not a place for children.
As the guests arrived, they could see Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon Furina were sitting in the front row of the courthouse. They were chatting, glancing out at the crowd periodically, as if looking for someone.
Then you walked in. 
Neuvillette arose from his seat and walked down to greet you. You smiled at your boyfriend, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” He said, grasping your hand as he brought you toward the seats he and Furina were sat in.
“I’m glad I could make it too! Everything here looks absolutely gorgeous,” You replied, following him.
Furina greeted you with a smile and a wave before moving from her seat to somewhere backstage.
“So what is this grand party for, hmm?”.
“Oh you’ll see soon enough my love,” He kissed your hand. “Just enjoy the atmosphere and the music. The Melusines should come around soon with refreshments, and the band is about to play.”
You nodded, leaning back into your chair and taking a deep breath. It was nice to have a moment to relax and enjoy yourself. You very rarely got that anymore thanks to your constant traveling, but the work was so fulfilling.
Just as Neuvillette said, the Melusines came out carrying trays of various drinks. One of them stopped in front of you two, two glasses of sparkling champagne was presented. “Just as you requested, Monsieur!” She said excitedly.
Neuvillette grabbed both the glasses, handing one over to you, “Thank you very much,” He smiled as she skipped away.
“This is different from the other drinks,” You gave him a smirk. “Was this requested specifically for me?” You had always been a fan of champagne, more than wine which tended to be the people’s preferred drink of choice.
“How could we throw a party without having everything my beautiful partner desires?” He kissed your temple with a gentle smile on his face.
You returned his smile and sipped the drink, “You also opted for champagne I see.”
“Ahh, I figured I could try to enjoy your favorite drink for a change.”
Neuvillette had never cared for champagne, he made that abundantly clear when you two began dating, but when he saw your face light up at the thought of him sharing your drink of choice, he knew it would all be worth it.
The two of you chatted for a while, catching up on how things have been on both your ends. You had recently returned from a trip to Inazuma, a country you had longed to visit for a while. You were given a commission there, and left about a month ago. You had only returned the day prior.
Neuvillette recounted many trials to you, one in particular standing out. He talked about Fatui Harbinger, Childe, a man you had met once before in Liyue when you were there for the Rite of Descension.
“Ahh I know Childe,” You commented. “We crossed paths briefly a few months ago. He almost sank the entirety of Liyue Harbor.”
“Oh?” Neuvillette raised his brow. “And how have I not heard about this?”
You giggled, “I forgot to be honest. It was so insignificant for me at the time. I left the Harbor only a few hours before to visit some of the ruins. Who would have thought that someone would try to wipe out the nation’s biggest city?”
Neuvillette chuckled, his eyes sparkling, “You tell me the most fascinating stories. I hope someday I can give you a memory as fun and beautiful as the ones you make.” 
You felt your face heat up, “You’re such a flirt, Neuvillette.”
“Only for you darling.”
The band on stage began their show, the audience around them silencing. You glanced over and realized Furina had not returned to her seat.
Neuvillette placed his glass aside and rose from his seat. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, “Excuse me a moment.”
“But the music just started. You’ll miss it.”
“No worries dear, I’ll be back,” He took his leave, walking out the back doors.
You sighed, focusing your attention on the orchestral display in front of you. Just as you expected, the music was beautiful, as was everything else in the Opera Epliclese. If only you knew what the true reasoning behind this was.
Moments passed and both Neuvillette and Furina had yet to return. You contemplated searching for them both, but stopped when Furina walked up on stage.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen! It is quite the honor to be here tonight as we have such a lovely occasion to be celebrating!”
Whispers and murmurs flooded over the crowd. What could they possibly be trying to celebrate?
“Now, I know you all must be very confused. ‘Oh great Hydro Archon Focalors.’” You rolled your eyes. “What could we possibly be celebrating!’ I can hear your gears turning, and I can promise you this is an occasion none shall forget!”
From stage left, Neuvillette walked on. He almost looked nervous as he approached the front of the stage. Furina handed him the microphone and winked before hopping off to the side.
“Umm,” He spoke softly. “This isn’t really quite my thing, speaking about emotions and feelings and such, especially in front of a crowded room like this, but I believe this is something that should be shared,” His throat bobbed, his eyes flicking across the audience. “Emotions are not, and never have been, my strong suit. They are complicated, hard to understand, and feeling them is confusing,” He said. “But there is one person who has made these emotions less confusing. When I am around them, I don’t need to try to understand what I’m feeling.”
You knew instantly he was talking about you. The two of you had discussed his inability to comprehend human emotions a few times. You had helped him understand his initial feelings towards you, helped him learn to accept his love and care for you. All of these things he has accomplished was through your help, so he says.
His eyes locked with yours, and he gestured for you to join him on the stage. Hesitantly, you stood and made your way to him. The spotlight was bright and hot, making you sweat almost instantly.
Neuvillette took your hand in his, “I can’t think of anyone I would rather spend my life with.”
Your eyes widened. He was going to propose
He got down onto one knee, pulling out a velvet blue box. He opened it, and the ring inside was stunning. A sparkling blue crystal with a silver band. “My love, will you marry me?”
All eyes were on you at that moment as the audience eagerly awaited your response. You were at a loss for words. You loved Neuvillette, you truly did, but marriage? The thought had never crossed your mind, nor were you even truly ready to get married. You had so many more adventures to go on, so much more to see and do. Marriage would only tie you down and prevent you from experiencing those things. 
Your heart throbbed, an ache filling you that you had never felt before. You stepped away from him, shaking your head with tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry, Neuvillette,” You watched his face drop. “But I can’t accept,” As you finished the sentence you rushed off of the stage and out of the room.
Neuvillette watched you leave, the ring box slipping from his hand, and landing onto the stage with a thud. The crowd began to whisper, a mix of emotion swirling throughout the room.
Furina, despite her love for the drama, immediately jumped in at seeing the distress on Neuvillette’s face, “Alright everyone, I believe that is all for this evening. Feel free to get some refreshments outside! Guards, if you could escort our guests out.”
One by one, each person began to leave until the only people inside were Furina and Neuvillette.
She glanced down at him, he hadn’t moved a single inch. His eyes were glued to the floor as he replayed the event in his head, over and over again. You said no.
“Neuvillette?” Furina approached him, gently tapping his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
He snapped out of his trance, picking his head up, “I- I do not know.”
“Well, why don’t we get you back home, yeah?”
The two left in silence, Furina remaining close beside him. People watched the two leave the Opera Epiclese and they wouldn’t stop talking. This news would spread like wildfire, Neuvillette would become the talk of Fontaine.
Outside it was downpouring. The rain was the worst it had been in a very long time. Furina knew why. 
“Even the weather is matching the mood,” Someone said from afar, noticing the Archon and Chief Justice.
“What a shame,” Another person spoke. “Losing out on a good lover such as the Monsieur.”
“They even rejected him in front of a crowd. The embarrassment he must feel… How cruel.”
“I do hope he finds someone better. He deserves someone less… fucked in the head.”
Each voice he heard was a nasty reminder, each word spoken made his heart twist and ache in an uncomfortable way. He tried to drown it out, but it was almost impossible.
“Thank you, Lady Furina,” He pulled away from her. “But I think I’ll go alone.”
“A-Are you sure?” She was hesitant to leave him alone in such a state.
“Quite sure. I’ll see you soon,” He left without another word.
Neuvillette decided to spend the rest of his evening alone, sulking in his hurt, wondering if maybe he could have done something to make you stay.
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ghostswithoutokday · 15 days
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Lucifer X reader| Vox x reader| they are Jealous!??
(btw this is not a poly relationship. These are two different scenarios and two different relationships. Also, if used please credit me. 😀).
(scenario one Lucifer)
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Lucifer isn’t the type to get jealous easily a lot usually you’re the one who gets jealous if somebody even calls him by your nicknames or when they get a little too… Touchy with him your blood boil, but when Lucifer does get jealous, it tends to be a bit dramatic though nothing a little bit of cuddling and kisses will help. I’ll be back to golden retriever. self one day you were just walking around the palace, admiring The red decor until a servant kept up to you. He was just asking normal questions, but he seemed to be a bit touchy when Lucifer saw this he was not happy. But not mad as the conversation continue on he saw how more touchy the server was getting. “ DARLING. Uh ham- I mean Darling I need you to see some thing I made for you” Lucifer as he brings your hand to his looking at the servant as you both made his way to his office he slammed the door, kinda hard, but not as as if he wasn’t mad, but annoyed “ y/ n who is that fellow?” Lucifer, an angry tone. “ Servants.” You said. “ but he was touching you.” Lucifer said getting a little close to you. “ it’s fine Lu I mean you touch me all the time and it’s fine”
“ yeah because I’m your boyfriend that’s another story love you shouldn’t let people just randomly touch you” Lucifer said pounding you walk up a bit close to him “ Lucifer are you… Jealous?” I said, giving him a little smirk Lucifer blushes of it. “ what?! No no hehe Nono no NO” he said panicking a bit “ I mean I do but like not as if-“ you cut him off by giving him a kiss on his lips Lucifer was done for a bit, but soon kissed back “ Lucy why would you think I would let some else have me. I love you for you.” Lucifer looks a bit sad. “ I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s just after Lilith and everything. I..” held his chin, making him look at you. “ everything’s fine now I’m here. No one to hurt you no more…”
“you have me…”
. -. -. -. .- .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.—.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- . (scenario two Vox)
Vox had quite the temper he never get he never got mad at you don’t worry, but he still sometimes through tantrums like he was five years old and when you throw that in with jealousy problems start to well notice something even a glimpse of someone even touching you or accidentally popping into you he get all angry and protective because he doesn’t wanna lose you and how you’re his pride and joy one day you were talking to Val discussing about who knows when Vox came from behind you and put his arms around you as he was hugging you from the back staring at Val with cold eyes “ oh it looks like your little boy over here isn’t happy that I’m talking to you?” Val said in a teasing way later that day after everything happened, you stepped into Vox’s office “ it’s time for lunch Vox need to take a break. You’ve been here all. Morning “ he stepped in his office and saw nothing not even his computers were on that was odd soon the door slam shut you turn around quickly seeing your boyfriend who was a bit angry “ y/n why the fuck were you talking Val?” he said an angry tone. “ He was just asking for a project for designing clothes”
“ I get that, but he was a bit too… Clingy and touchy with you” you gave a small grin “ you were the one who was cling on me” “ that’s because I’m your boyfriend. I have a right to do that.” Vox said in an angry tone. “ I’m supposed to be the one who is you touching all over you I’m supposed to be the one to give you kisses and stuff not Val “ baby, it was just one touch that’s it and plus you have me actually and you do all those things what are you jealous or something?” Was a bit shocked by what you said a light blue blush. Appeared on his face. He cleared his throat. “ still though… you’re my partner, my lover.. not his “ I came close to vox giving him a kiss on the cheek “ don’t worry voxxy I’m not leaving you I would never leave you now now come on. Let’s go eat lunch.” I said, taking his hand soon leaving with him
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( thank you for reading my lovely’s I will be making a Adam, and Alastor one also later today so stay tune 😀😎⭐️)
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spiderlyla · 7 months
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Day 3 of Flufftober
pairing: miguel o'hara × gn!reader (no pronouns used)
lumi's note: re-wrote this twice, lost the drafts and almost lost this too! so sorry for the delay.
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The car ride to the park was in complete silence, mainly because you had no idea where Miguel was taking you, partially, because of what had unfurled just 30 minutes ago.
A lazy, slow afternoon at the diner you worked at was interrupted by your boyfriend walking in at about 1:30. it was unusual to see him at such an hour, and at your workplace. Nevertheless, you couldn’t complain, just seeing him made your boring shift worth it. He sat down by the counter, and you approached him like you would any other customer, trying to avoid the gaze of your boss. He asked for a medium American coffee, and then for a bit, he pretended not to know you, asking if he could have your number with that too.
“Oh, I'm sorry; sir, but I have a boyfriend.”
“Mm, Bastardo Suertudo.” He grinned, as you served him the bitter drink he-oh-so loved. “Why are you here, Mig?” He brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip. “Was wondering if you can get off early. I have something planned for us.” [Lucky Bastard]
When asked, your boss said it was fine, they’d had no problem since business wasn’t exactly booming, but told you to take at least a few orders before leaving. Miguel said he’d wait for you by the counter, insisting that he was ‘very’ interested in watching you work. He’d throw a flirtatious comment here and there each time you passed by him, gaze lingering on you as you made a milkshake or steamed some milk. It was not often you had a good shift, but you could easily say this was your best yet.
That was until your very last customer walked in.
The car came to a halt, realization dawning on you that Miguel had parked after driving for almost half an hour. He unbuckled his seat belt, your eyes stuck on the sight of his red, bruised knuckles and the small cut by his eyebrow. He ran a hand into his hair, pushing a few strands that had gone astray back. “Mig,” You pouted, grabbing his hands with one of yours, the other lightly checking the cut by his brow. “We should bandage it before it gets swollen, or worse, infected.” He shook his head, always too stubborn to listen. “It won’t, amor, just don’t worry about it. We should--” With a few minutes of bickering and a pointed glare his way, Miguel sighed, saying he’ll go reserve a spot for the two of you while you make a quick trip to a nearby pharmacy.
You had a general knowledge of tending to bruised knuckles and wounds, being Miguel’s partner required that. God knows how many nights you spent patching him up. Compared to the super-villains he fights on the daily, a lousy man throwing punch at him, grazing his ring against his eyebrow was by far the least worrying thing you’ve been subjected to handling.
The walk back to the park was not long, and the park itself was not crowded. For a moment, you enjoyed the chilly breeze, the crunch of withered leaves under the soles of your shoes. You were unsure where your boyfriend might've headed, but he'd be by the lake. After a few turns here and there, you finally spotted him.
On both his knees, Miguel struggled with laying down a red and blue picnic mat underneath the shade of an oak tree, the wind blowing it from every way. From beside him, he grabbed a picnic basket, and set it on one of the corners, securing it in place.A blush spread across your face as you came closer and closer to him. He quickly noticed your arrival, looking up with his brows still furrowed tight. "I was trying to put everything in place, but the damn mat keeps—"
The giggles you erupted at his visible frustration managed to make him loosen up a little. You sat by him, finally getting the corner that kept being blown upwards by the breeze. Silently, Miguel sat beside you, putting his hands in your lap while you pulled out some compression bandages.
Silence fell upon the two of you as you wrapped the material around his knuckles. Miguel cleared his throat, and when you looked up, his eyebrows were still very much furrowed, his mouth pursed just in the slightest. "You don't look happy, if it's about what happened—"
"No, no, honey it's—" You paused, then continued bandaging him up. "I'm just upset you got hurt. Usually, we just ignore whatever a customer like that says—"
"He was disrespecting you." He frowned, muscles tensing up at the memory. "And he grabbed your shirt—mierda, he's lucky I didn't break his wrists. How do you handel people like that?" His exclamation made you chuckle, as you let go off his hand and took out a little bandage for the cut by his brow. "We don't really get violent ones all that much, honey." He grumbled something inaudible under his breath, his hands finding your waist to hold you down while you leaned towards him.
You spent a moment cleaning up the cut, before finally applying the little white band-aid to it. You tried to move, but Miguel held you still, the frown never leaving his handsome face. "Oh, come on, mig, loosen up." Your hands wrapped around his cheeks, thumbs running along his skin. "I don't want to spend the rest of our little picnic date sulking." He chuckled, pulling you a little closer to leave a peck on your lips. Instead of pulling back, you kissed him again, and again, the two of you toppling over one another in the grass. You could feel his smile widen with every kiss, and when you pulled back, he had a full on grin, his pearly white fangs visible.
"Come back here." He demanded, trying to grab onto your ankle when you got off of him. With a swift move, you dodged, going back to the mat where your picnic laid. "Mm, maybe after this. I did not have lunch after all."
"You'll be happy to know I packed your favourites, then."
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raccoonsrummagerostrum · 11 months
Note
Okay hear me out
Yautja with an s/o who has adhd
Yautja Vs ADHD
Yautja x GN! ADHD! Reader
Word count: 838
Warnings: Fuff, depictions of ADHD, depictions of social rejection
Summary: Your lover thinks you are strange for your species, but loves you regardless. 
A/N: OMG! I have ADHD too! Why did I not think of this!?
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When your lover started dating you they had a lot of biases about ooman that they had to unlearn. They had been taught that oomans were fragile yet intelligent creatures, they knew that oomans were primitive but creative, and that they were highly social and very dangerous in groups. But after spending time with you a lot of their preconceived notions were challenged.
You were not fragile. You would regularly trip, fall, and bump into just about everything. Your lover was very concerned about this at first, but whenever it happened you would just walk it off like it was nothing. You would even laugh about it. Much to their unending confusion. Occasionally they would find cuts, scrapes, and bruises in random places on your body and ask how that happened. All you could do was shrug.
Your lover had hunted oomans before, so they knew just how intelligent they could be. So when you repeatedly forgot important items, or tasks they began to question if you were just one of the less intelligent ones. Every species has them. But as time went on and they grew to understand you more, they came to know that you were not stupid, you just struggled with some things. You seemed to have a brilliant mind for problem solving, even exceeding other examples of your species. Not to mention how long you could go on talking about your favorite topics. They adore the way you lit up as you talked. They do still often need to remind you about items and tasks, but they understand that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Every day they understand yours more and more.
Your lover did tend to look down on ooman technology. To you, your phone was the most advanced device in the universe. It helps you keep track of important things, such as events and chores, and it can access the sum of all ooman knowledge in just seconds. But to your lover it was nothing more than a light up brick. But they did admire the creativity with which you used your primitive tools. Such as throwing on some music and suddenly being able to conjure the ability to do the dishes. You also used your creativity in other fascinating ways. Any and all artistic pursuits are revered by your lover. Art is not common in yautja culture, the art they do have though is highly symbolic and ceremonial. They love listening to you talk about the choices you made while making any given piece and find the concept of art for art's sake fascinating . 
One of the things that confused your lover the most was how you socialized. You seemed to really struggle talking to other oomans. You would start with your usual high energy, but the other ooman would quickly show their disinterest, causing you to get very discouraged and end the conversation very quickly. You also had a tendency to do, what you called, ‘overshare’. Your lover treasured any time when you would tell them everything on a given topic, whether that was how your day was or about the documentary you had just watched. The ooman on the receiving end of the oversharing however, would usually make their ‘discomfort’ known. Your lover would quickly get angry at whoever was icing you out, because they knew that you were just sociable and wanted to talk. Sometimes though you would avoid talking to people all together for all the above reasons. But in other, seemingly similar interactions, you could easily talk to another person like they were already your best friend. For some reason they would match your energy perfectly and the two of you would create a tight bond, only to go your separate ways and never talk again. 
There was one simple explanation for all of this that your lover was completely unaware of. Unaware of, until one day. The two of you were having dinner and having a conversation when they said something that caught you a little bit off guard. 
“You are a strange example of your species.”
“What do you mean by that?” You asked. 
“Well…” They thought for a moment, choosing their next words carefully. “You are constantly getting injured, but somehow end up fine. You are fiercely intelligent, but still manage to forget small things. You are incredibly creative, and industrious, but struggle with interpersonal communication, until you do not? It is just… you act strange for a ooman.” You blinked a few times, trying to figure out if you should be offended or not. Then you laughed.
“Have I not told you I have ADHD?”
“What?”
“ADHD, it stands for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, although it's really more of an attention regulation disorder rather than a deficit. Basically it affects how my brain works and, yeah it affects everything you mentioned.”
“So you are not a normal ooman!”
“No,” you giggled again. 
“That is all right though,” they said before you could continue. “I like the way you are, strange ooman.”
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