#pls the way i know they won’t sell them here

[freelancearsonist]

Parts and Labor

➔ Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - 5k

➔ Eddie’s van is practically falling apart, but he doesn’t have the heart to replace it. Luckily for him, you’re willing to put in the effort to fix it—as long as he helps.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (f receiving), heavy petting, creampie, fingering, cumplay, Eddie has scars and lies about where he got them, reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader is a mechanic [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

“SHIT, FUCK!”

Eddie slams down the hood of his van, kicks the front tire as hard as he can, then winces–both at the sudden pain in his foot and at the overreaction.

“Come on baby, please,” he pleads futilely to the unresponsive engine. “I’ll give you anything, just start.”

The engine, apparently, won’t be seduced.

Eddie digs through the pocket of his low-slung jeans, finds a dime somewhere in the pile of gum wrappers and old receipts, and runs to stick the coin into the nearest payphone booth.

The garage answers on the last ring, and Eddie doesn’t even have to identify himself. They’re almost as familiar with his junker van as he is himself. They’ve wrung more money out of him for repairs than the damned thing is worth, and Eddie knows it. He knows the vehicle is on its deathbed–repeatedly resuscitated at this point–and that he should just replace it. But he can’t. Beyond fear of hurting its feelings, he’s become attached to it. He’s made memories in that stupid van. To him, replacing his ride would be like wading a huge portion of his life up and throwing it in the trash. He just won’t do it.

The garage is merciful enough to give him a ride there along with towing his poor, lifeless van. He’s not eager to spend a day in the waiting room sipping lukewarm black coffee, but he needs to be there for her. His lady is dying–waiting for news from her doctors is the least he can do.

He forgets all about his lady when you walk through the door.

You’re the Porche 944 of women. He’s never seen anything or anyone quite as breathtaking as you–with the small grease smudge on your cheek, your hair pulled back so sloppily that half of it is already fallen down, and your denim overalls unclipped on one side to show off the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt you wear underneath. You’re wiping your hands on a grease rag as you approach him and Eddie just stands in dumbfounded silence. Who are you and where have you been his entire life?

“Munson,” you greet with a slight smile. 

He almost chokes. You know his name? He knows he’s never seen you before in his life–you’re the kind of girl he could never forget. Especially with how much time he’s had to spend here.

“Having trouble getting her to start?” you continue without missing a beat. Eddie doesn’t miss the way you refer to his van, and it makes him impossibly more hooked. “Seems to be a bad ignition coil. Easy enough to fix, except your crankshaft is rusted to shit and I’m honestly surprised the whole engine hasn’t fallen apart when you hit a bump or something. Seriously, it’s dangerous to drive at this point.”

Eddie hears you, but he doesn’t comprehend a single word you’re saying. He’s hyper-fixated on the way your lips form around your words, on how you’re speaking mechanics and you actually understand what you’re saying. He’s never met anyone like you.

“But you can fix her, right?”

You smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “Honestly? My professional advice is to just sell it for scrap and buy a new car.”

It’s like a smack to the face. He has to blink the shock out of his eyes while you stand there so simply, like you didn’t just tell him to kill his darling.

”What’s your unprofessional advice?”

You bite your lip, busy your hands with a grease cloth. “I could fix it. But it’ll take some time, and it’ll be expensive as hell. It would honestly be cheaper to buy new.”

”I’ll pay for the fix,” he says firmly before he can consider what he’s really agreeing to. “I can’t just replace her.”

Your smile is softer when you look back up at him. “I really admire that.”

Those words shouldn’t have as much of an effect on him as they do.

”I can do the job, but not here. There’s no way my boss would let me take up a lift for as long as I need to actually do a good job, and I don’t believe in doing mediocre work. But I’ve got enough equipment at my place if you trust me?”

You’re not only saving his lady, you’re promising not to screw him like so many people have before. He’s thinking about proposing, but he keeps his cool long enough to say, “yeah. Yeah, I trust you.”

”How much do you know about cars?”

He notices a strand of hair that’s fallen down into your face, and it takes all his restraint to keep himself from pushing it behind your ear for you.

”I know enough,” he says with a modest shrug.

Your eyes shine with something that he can’t identify as you gaze up at him. “Well, if you wanna help me, I’ll only charge you for parts.”

Eddie doesn’t even need to consider. A chance to spend more time with you, and a discount on repairs? “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

The first night he comes over, it’s the sticky hot of a midsummer Indiana evening. He’s in low-slung faded jeans and a baggy white tank top that shows more of his chest than should be legal. There’s so much lightly tanned skin on display that you can’t decide where to focus—much less consider the engine you’re supposed to be working on. You can’t help asking about each little spot of ink you see on his skin, curious to learn even the smallest nuisances of his personality.

He’s the most interesting person you’ve met in this podunk town since your move to Hawkins from Indianapolis. He’s goofy and aloof, charming yet awkward. He’s so gentle and sweet you can practically smell the saccharine of his words as he speaks. He’s an animated speaker—so passionate about everything he does that he puts his whole body into it. There’s a refreshing energy to him that recharges your social battery as he goes, rather than draining it like everyone else does.

By the second night of working on Eddie’s van with him, you’re close enough to call him a friend. You know what seems like every small detail about him—his favorite color, the story behind the small scar on his left knee.

By the third night, you’re fighting every instinct in your brain to keep from throwing him inside said van and having your way with him.

Especially when you deliver to him a cold glass of iced tea and he drinks it in the sluttiest possible way he can—big gulps that send the condensation on the outside of the glass spilling down his chin to leave little paths of wetness down his neck and chest. It’s like full-on torture.

On the fourth night, you’ve had the engine block completely disassembled and ready for the new crankshaft for a couple days. It’s hard for Eddie to see his baby gutted and torn apart this way, but he knows you’ve got the most capable hands of any mechanic he’s ever known. There’s a delicacy and attention to detail in your craft that he’s never seen before, and he’s enraptured with watching you work. He’s even more enraptured by the sticky glistening of your skin in the red-orange light of sunset every night.

There’s really no reason for him to keep meeting you every single evening—all you’re doing at this point is busywork cleaning various parts because the real work can’t be done until the new parts arrive. Both of you know it, too—but neither of you will admit it. You’ve both come to look forward to these few hours together, comfortable even though you’re both sweaty, sticky, and greasy. Suspending them at this point would be a crime.

There’s just the faintest peek of reddish light left over the horizon when the conversation lulls, but Eddie’s not ready to go quite yet. “You hear Megadeth’s touring in Indy this fall?”

”No shit?”

”No shit. Tickets are probably going fast.”

”We should get some,” you say with a cautious glance over at him. This is it—this is as grand of an invitation as you can work up the courage to make. If he can’t take the bait here, you’ll be forever casting lingering glances and praying he’ll make a more substantial move than just eyeing you up and down like you’re the finest, purest water in a parched desert.

Eddie’s heart rate skyrockets even as he’s willing himself not to read too far into your words. ”Yeah? You’d… wanna go with me?”

”Might be nice. To hang out and do something other than pretend to work on your car.”

”All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says with a look that’s far too smug for his own good on his face. 

Even though it’s a little ridiculous, his cockiness flusters you. ”Wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

”How could I not? I’ve got the girl of my dreams five feet away from me, I’d be crazy to not want to spend every second I can get with her.”

”Oh, is there someone else here?” You try to giggle and make it sound like a lighthearted joke, but it comes out far more flustered than you mean for it to.

”No. Just you.” It’s only three words, yet you’ve never heard anything more fraught with tension in your life. It’s in his dark eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands clench into fists at his side to keep from reaching for you.

All your eyes can manage to do is trace up the prominent veins in his forearms from his white-knuckled fists. If you meet his eyes, you know your resolve will disappear faster than a delicate snowflake on warm skin.

But he takes a step closer to you, and it’s too late before you can even consider stopping yourself.

His dark eyes are swirling with lust. There’s no mistaking it, no other label for it. It looks animalistic, almost dangerous. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, and you want nothing more than to find out if he will.

”You, umm… need a refill?” You gesture with your eyes to the now empty glass in his hand, then nod toward the house. It’s all the invitation he needs.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, Eddie’s hands are on you. They start on your waist, effectively pinning you against the closed door and using you as an anchor to press himself as close to you as he can.

It’s eager and rushed, even a little sloppy. He kisses wet, he kisses deep. It’s like he’s trying to suck the air straight from your lungs, and you let him. Nothing has ever felt so good before.

“Christ,” he mumbles as his hot lips work their way down your neck. “Been wanting to do this for days.”

There’s a slight tremble in your hands as your fingers work their way into his curls, already nearly overwhelmed with the sensation of his mouth on your overheated skin. “Why didn’t you?”

”Didn’t wanna scare you off,” he confesses. It’s so endearing it pulls a moan from your lips.

“There’s not a lot you could do to scare me off, Eddie.” You mean it; you try to prove it by tugging him closer and slotting him between your legs. You can feel his pent up desire, hard and thick, as it presses against your core through his jeans. The feeling alone makes you ache with desire. It’s like a wave sweeps through you, cascading from head to toe and making everything in its wake prickle with unbearable want. You are molten flame, and he is the only thing that can douse your heat.

No one’s ever had such an astronomical effect on you from doing so little.

Eddie isn’t faring much better. He walks in a fog, blinded by clouding desire—especially so when your leg hitches up and around his hip to tug him harder against you. It’s like his cruise control is set, speed regulating with every incline or downward tilt—adjusting every little movement and touch to draw more breathless moans and whimpers from your parted lips.

A slight tug to his hair snaps him back into his own body, drawing a sudden clarity on the situation. He’s no longer an outsider looking in, as if an astral projection watching and criticizing his every move. Eddie is fully present and hyper-focused on one thing: making sure no other person can ever properly satisfy you again.

”You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs over and over into your skin as he traces kisses over your exposed neck and shoulders. His fingers hook into the strap of your tank top and slide it out of place, making way for a series of open-mouthed kisses as he ensures that not an inch of your skin is neglected.

You keen at his praise and reward him with a gentle tug to his messy curls. “So are you.”

He prickles with affection at your compliment, his cheeks warming in a way that feels completely foreign to him. No one’s ever called him beautiful before—he’s really never thought it could even be applicable to him—but he feels like he could get used to it.

He asks so nicely to take your top off and you give him permission without hesitation. You can see the flash of want in his eyes as he takes in your mostly naked torso, gaze skirting around the boundary of your bra as if he’s too shy to ask again for permission to remove a garment.

You decide to put on a little show as you give him what he wants; you unhook your bra and slide the straps down your arms so achingly slowly he thinks he might combust. And then finally, gloriously, you let the fabric fall to the floor and Eddie gets his first look at your bare chest.

He gapes, open-mouthed, for longer than is frankly comfortable—to the point you’re almost about to cover yourself up again.

And then he says, “Permission to do something highly inappropriate and maybe even a little degrading?”

”Uhh… sure?”

In a flash he’s buried face first in your sternum, hands coming to cup your breasts and dramatically smother himself in your cleavage. He lets out a pleasured groan as you giggle, deft fingers lightly tugging and pinching the sensitive peaks of your nipples. He prickles with pride at the breathy gasp you emit when his mouth starts working—he turns his head to suck one hard mound between his lips and keeps up the pressure with his fingers on the other.

”Sh-shit…” you sigh and slump into his attention, arms hanging like limp ribbons by your sides. “Eddie…”

”Love the way you say my name,” he practically purrs. “So fucking pretty.”

He switches sides now, firmly dragging the flat of his tongue over your nipple before sealing his lips around it and sucking. The pure pressure of it makes you cry out, fingers tugging harshly at his curls.

”Jesus, that feels amazing,” you whine. It’s so good, but it’s not nearly enough at the same time. And it’s like he can sense it—like he’s got some kind of a psychic connection with your body. He adapts immediately to what you need, dropping to his knees to unbutton your jean shorts and deftly slip them down and off your legs. He smooths his palms against your bare thighs and lets you feel the cold kiss of his metal rings against the burning flesh there, all the while looking up at you with dark eyes that you can’t quite identify. There’s lust, sure, but something else in those chocolate orbs. Something akin to adoration—like he’s on his knees preparing to worship you.

”Can I?” Those long, thick fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and you’re nodding before he’s even finished asking.

You wish you could put the sound he lets out once he finally has you bare on vinyl to repeat over and over again. It’s somewhere between a growl and a whimper, completely heady with desire and want; need, even. The fact that he needs you like this is so overwhelming and flattering that you can barely process it. You don’t have time to, because in a moment his lips are wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking. He goes straight past gentle and into pure pressure just like he did with your nipples; as above, so below. And it’s bliss—thigh-quaking, breath-hitching, earth-shattering bliss.

All you can manage to do is scrabble for purchase against the wall his hands have you pinned to. You have to sound absolutely pathetic, but you can’t be bothered to care because you’re precariously close to coming and it’s only been a matter of minutes.

He moans, like he’s tasting the finest, most expensive and decadent cuisine he’s ever had. The sound vibrates against your pussy and travels up your spine all the way to your brain—it nests there and makes it’s home, drives you into a fuzzy state of ecstasy. And all the while that luxurious tongue is hard at work, alternating between lapping thirstily at your entrance and fluttering against your clit in a way that causes every muscle in your abdomen to contract.

Nothing should be able to feel this good—it’s so desperately close to overwhelming. Simultaneously, you would rather die than lose this feeling is it crescendos to a fever pitch.

”Let go,” he murmurs against you, and you know he’s not talking about your grip on his hair. “It’s okay. I gotcha, let go f’me.”

You’ve never fancied yourself to be the obedient type per se, but apparently your body is feeling particularly traitorous today. It takes all of three more seconds before you’re doing exactly what he said—legs trembling with the burden of your weight as you crash and burn on his tongue. You whine and beg and plead, all of it meaningless babble as he works you over and through your pleasure with that wonderful, amazing, perfect mouth of his.

You don’t even process you’re collapsing, but thankfully Eddie does and catches you with ease. There’s a cocky chuckle in his throat as he lays you down on the floor, and you would smack him for it if he hadn’t earned it. Instead, you grab him by the collar of his shirt a little rougher than mean to and drag him to your mouth, relishing in the high-pitched whine he admits at your light manhandling.

You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, and Eddie can’t help grinding himself hard against your thigh in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his untouched arousal. This kiss is nasty—wet, gnashing, desperate. There’s no control to it on either end.

”That good, huh?” He mutters into your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper—you can’t expect much more when you’re kissing him the way you are, grinding your thigh against his aching cock all the while. And even still, despite his obvious desperation, he manages to be cocky about how hard he made you come.

If you weren’t head over heels for this man before, you certainly are now.

You start tugging at his belt and he chuckles, only growing more sure of himself by the second.

”Wait, baby, lemme take you to bed,” he huffs over the feeling of your hand finally sliding into his jeans where he needs you most.

It makes you gasp when you finally have him in the palm of your hand. As big as he felt through his jeans, nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He’s heavy, achingly thick, and you can feel the way he positively throbs in your grip.

And just as you’re about to agree and show him to your bedroom, you shake your head firmly; because as uncomfortable as this floor is going to feel and as much as your back is going to hate you for it later, you need him now. There’s no time for relocating; if he doesn’t give it to you right now, here in the middle of your living room floor, you think you might perish.

”Right here?” He hums as if he’s not affected at all while he slots himself between your legs. “On the floor? Can’t even wait thirty seconds to let me have you the right way? Dirty girl.”

It’s such a shift in dynamic; not an unwelcome one at all, certainly. But he’s been so shy and timid up until this point—always following your lead, blushing when his hand brushes against yours. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone—if he feels some pressure to perform an act or role, to hide his true personality. 

The thought makes your chest ache a little bit, but you don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s breaking you in half. He’s so slow about it, too; barely pressing his tip into you, giving you time to adjust to every millimeter he gives you. Even still it punches the breath out of your lungs and makes your eyelids flutter at the intrusion.

”Shit.” It’s not spoken so much as whined, and suddenly you’re starkly aware of just how much you’re affecting him. You bite your lip to steady yourself so you can look up at him, and the sight alone is almost enough to unravel you. Unruly curls spill down over his shoulder and dangle in the air over you. His mouth hangs open—fast, shallow breaths make his bottom lip quiver. His pupils are so blown with desire you can barely see the warm chocolatey color of his irises.

You’re suddenly aware that in your desperation, you forgot a very important step. He’s still fully clothed—your legs rub against his t-shirt as his hands hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. You almost feel bad about it; in your haze of arousal his attention to your body has brought on, you’ve forgotten to be attentive to his. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands unconsciously come to tug at the fabric.

He chuckles but acquiesces—not before you see a flicker of hesitation pass over his face.

It takes a moment to process what you’re looking at as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side… and then your jaw drops. ”Shit, Eddie!”

He’s quick to quiet your exclamation with a heated kiss, unintentionally shoving himself that little bit deeper into your cunt. It distracts you, but only for a moment. Then you’re pushing yourself up onto your elbows, trying to wrap your mind around the myriad of deep, whitish-pink scars that litter his torso.

“Eddie, what—“

“Car accident,” he lies before he can think better of it. It’s a story he’s told so many times that he’s almost starting to believe it himself. “Couple years back.”

“Jesus,” you whisper as your fingers trace over the poorly healed lines.

“I know. They’re not pretty.”

That one sentence tells you everything you need to know. “It’s not that,” he assure him. “Just… a miracle you survived something that bad.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I got lucky.”

He’s deflating a little bit, and the last thing you want him to do is lose that confidence he’s been exuding. You wrap your arms around your neck and pulls him flush against you, feeling every warm inch of his torso against yours as your tongue tangles with his.

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him again. And you mean it.

He draws a gasp from your lips when he presses even closer, every inch of his body covering yours and his length shoved all the way into your needy cunt. It’s almost too much for him—the combination of your tight, wet heat around him; the adoration in your eyes as you look up at him like he’s some kind of god; your hands pulling him closer like you might evaporate if you can’t feel every inch of his body at all times. It’s a heady feeling he’s never experienced before, being wanted this badly. It nearly unravels him—especially when you start bucking your hips up to him in search of the friction you so desperately need.

He sees your need, and it pulls him back into his dutiful role. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He starts with deep, slow thrusts that nearly make you drool—you feel the drag of every single inch against your walls, every vein and ridge and contour. It’s like you’re memorizing the shape of him from the inside out.

One ringed hand slides down your hip and along the length of your thigh to hook beneath your knee, hitching your leg up as high as he comfortably can to spread you wide open for the taking.

You get barely a moment's notice as he draws himself almost all the way out. And then he slams himself back into place—deep, hard, unrelenting. He revels in the sound it draws from you, something between a cry and a plea for more; he silently vows to himself that those little pleasures sounds are going to be all you’re capable of making by the time he’s done with you.

It’s borderline violent, the way he fucks you. His thrusts are relentless and expert in a way you didn’t expect him to be. His lips hardly leave your skin, muffling his moans into hickies and bruises on your neck and chest. His hands grip hard to your body, marks blossoming beneath his fingertips.

You’ve never fallen apart so easily.

“That’s it,” he purrs into your ear as he feels your walls fluttering around him. “Don’t hold back, lemme have it. Please, baby.”

And really, it would be rude to deny him after he’s asked so nicely.

Your orgasm comes like shattered glass. The sound is the first thing you process—your moans drowning out his steady grunts. And then it’s sharp. It drives its shards into your and makes you flinch away from the sensation, so pleasurable it’s almost painful.

You’ve never come just from being fucked before. Sweet, wonderful Eddie carries on working towards his own release like he doesn’t deserve a goddamned award.

“Can I…”

But you’re already nodding, wrapping your legs around his waist and coaxing him deeper—urging him to make a home in the deepest part of you.

He’s not a man who needs to be told twice. He rocks his hips as deep as he can and then presses even closer, the head of him bruising your cervix as he falls apart. And maybe it shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the sensation of him painting your walls with rope after rope or warm, sticky release; but you’re not in the mind to psychoanalyze yourself right now. Instead you do your best to help him through it, lightly ghosting the tips of your fingers in soothing patterns on his back as he pants and shudders.

“Holy…”

“Yeah,” you giggle.

It takes him a few minutes to summon the courage he needs to pull his softening length from your warmth, and he bites down on his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood when he sees the absolute mess that slides down the curve of your ass.

”Jesus H. Christ,” he murmurs. His fingers come to swipe up some of the combined cum before he can stop himself, pushing it back into where he’d spilled it to begin with and relishing in the moan you afford him at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your over-sensitive entrance.

He’s so thoroughly enraptured with the sight before him. Your cunt squeezing so tightly around his fingers, cum dripping, desperate to reject due to the overstimulation. And yet you take it without flinching, chest heaving, head falling back against the hardwood floor.

He swipes his thumb over your clit so lightly and yet it still makes you squeeze like a vice around him, and so he does it again. He curls his fingers in search of that spot that made you fall apart so prettily on his cock, and once he finds it he doesn’t relent. That, combined with the light pressure on your clit, is more than enough.

Your thighs tremble, caught indecisively between spreading further open for him and clamping shut on his cum-slicked hand. He watches in awe as your lips part in a silent scream, ass arching up off the floor; and then, as you come down, you have to push him away because it’s finally too much.

”Fuck,” you whimper—he coos so reassuringly as he leans down to gently kiss your lips, errant curls brushing and tickling against your cheeks.

”I know, baby,” he whispers. “God, you’re incredible. Did so good f’me.”

You have to stay still for a moment—let his sweet, gentle kisses bring you back down from the clouds. And then you’re aware of the ache in your back and the absolute puddle forming under your ass, and you push yourself up with a weak groan.

”M’sorry,” he winces in sympathy. “Bed next time, I promise.”

And really, the promise of there being a next time shouldn’t make your heart skip a beat the way it does.

You’re worried things’ll be awkward now, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Working with him now is so much more effortless. The tension isn’t as palpable—it’s a fluid thing that you move through confidently now that your feelings and his are known. He isn’t afraid to watch you anymore, awe and adoration in his eyes as you show him how to reassemble the engine block. He observes your skilled fingers at work, and he’s not afraid to tell you how fucking sexy it is to him. He’s not afraid to rest a hand on the small of your back as he stands beside you, even occasionally getting brave enough to let it slip down and cup your ass. He’s not afraid to be his goofy, adorable, manic self—it’s the best metamorphosis you’ve ever seen.

You finish working on his van finally, and he almost tears up at how well she runs now—although he definitely doesn’t let you see that.

And as worried as you were that finishing this job would feel like the end of whatever this is with Eddie, it doesn’t. You feel secure, somehow, that he’ll keep coming back—for more than just parts and labor.

THE END

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 ily lots

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #cece writes

[pettypiastri]

my boyfriend's boyfriend

jamie drysdale x fem reader ft. trevor zegras

requested by @corneliaskates: "okay in light of these photos… I’m making you write jamie for me what about like moving in with him but like moving in with him also means moving in with trevor and… chaos ensues"

wc: 2.3k

warnings: blood in the context of undercooked food and also minor injury, reference to Jamie's shoulder injury and doctors offices, swearing, mention of drugs in a medical context, chaos, buffoonary

a/n: just some fun casual writing for a collection of scenes that i think you’d likely see upon moving into the zegras/drysdale household, pls enjoy the chaos! lots of this unhinged behavior we already knew about the 2 of them but a few details came from the recent "The Players Lounge" podcast episodes with jamie and trevor so go listen! (also would the homies wanna see me write for mason mctavish cause i really would love to do so)

Jamie stares blankly at the doctor as he continues to come to. He doesn’t hear the inquisition the doctor made. The first thought on his mind is the only thought he's had since he skated off the ice, his left shoulder in a dead hang: his season is over, there’s no way around it. 

“Mr. Drysdale?” The physician tries to get Jamie’s attention. 

“Yes, umm I’ll be there to help him. I’ve taken time off work.” Jamie turns his head slowly to look at you. He barely registers what you’ve said. He almost wants to ask you to repeat it but he knows he heard you right. The doctor shifts toward you, flipping through the aftercare instructions and various medications Jamie will have to take. You’re collected, attentive, and receptive all the while Jamie’s eyes bore into your profile, trying to understand. He’s still drowning in self-wallowing and frustration and now is trying to parse through the funny sort of feeling in his heart watching you prepare yourself to be a part time caretaker for him. Not only are you here right now, you’ve just admitted out loud, without any previous discussion between the two of you that you are not just willing but going to help him during his recovery?? He feels an intensity to communicate his love and appreciation for you that he’s not used to but ends up manifesting as,

“Will you move in with me?” The door to the exam room has just barely clicked shut from the doctor’s exit. Your spine is rod straight now from where you were previously collecting your purse and coat. Jamie’s always been a fiddler, twitching and messing with loose skin on his finger or the belt loop of your jeans, but now he sits perfectly still as he stares at you. 

“Where’s the big red button, I think they gave you too much of something bud.” Humor always serves as a great deflection tactic for you but Jamie won’t let you off the hook.

“No no, I’m serious. Do you want to move in with me?” Your expression remains slightly standoffish as you draw closer to the bed. As you prop yourself on the hospital bed, you notice his eyes are inviting, stoic: a safe place to land. Lazy fingers reach to soothe Jamie’s uninjured arm. 

“Would you have asked me if you hadn’t torn your shoulder?” Jamie’s nod is emphatic. 

“Yes, it probably just would’ve taken me a bit longer to ask. You still make me nervous-- but like in a good way, in a good way.” Jamie stumbling over his words endears you like nothing else. “I kind of hate being without you, not in a weird codependent way, I just really like who I am when you’re around.” 

Your mind is already made up after Jamie’s unbridled honesty but you still have to ask,

“Shouldn’t you run this by Trev first maybe?” He is a member of the household, though not much of a contributing one. To sell his conviction, Jamie’s eyes don’t leave yours as he reaches for his phone in the back pocket of the jeans he thinks he’s wearing. He gets an awful fright meeting bare skin under the hospital gown. Creasing at the waist with laughter doesn’t hinder you too much as you dig for his phone in your purse. He takes it sheepishly from your grasp. As he dials Trevor’s number, you urge him to put it on speaker phone.

“Jimmy! How high are you, man??”

“Z, Y/N’s gonna move in with us.”

“I thought she already lived here?”

—

Since the moment of Jamie’s injury you’ve been practically inseparable. Surgeon consultations, post op, helping him dress, cooking for him, you’ve truly been there for it all for Jamie. Now that he’s several months post op and regained most all of his range of motion, he’s been eager to pick up some slack. 

“Are they closed?” 

“Jamie my love, yes. I’ve literally had them closed every time you’ve asked in the last 15 minutes.” You sigh, patience thinning at both the frequent reminders and… well… how goddamn slow Jamie’s being. To pass the time, you’ve taken to concocting a game with the yellow spots on the inside of your closed eyelids.

“Dude it’s been fucking hours would you hurry up already?” 

“Trevor, no one asked you.” Jamie snips at his childish best friend. It’s date night tonight and Jamie wanted to cook for you. Trevor decided, because he is cripplingly codependent, that he just had to sit on the living room couch to scroll Instagram. You’ve mentally taken the under on Trevor stealing some of your bread with olive oil within the first five minutes of it being in front of you because ‘Jimmy why didn’t you make any for me too?’

“Okay it's ready, you can open!” Slowly doing as you’re told to readjust to the well lit dining room, you catch Jamie scurrying around to his side of the table. His face holds an adorably pleased expression, you can tell he’s very proud of himself. The spread in front of you is barbequed steak, bread with olive oil, and a green salad; a shockingly balanced meal. A normally restless boy, Jamie vibrates with excitement even more now as he waits for your appraisal. 

“Jamie baby, it looks amazing! Thank you!” Crows' feet emerge to compensate for his smile becoming impossibly wider, yet he’s still a bit shy, bashful after your praise.

“I’d hope so, it took you long enough Jimbo,” the peanut gallery croons again. You don’t even acknowledge Trevor as you begin to saw through your steak… until red liquid begins to pour out… Stunned and surprised, your mouth gapes for a moment, finding the gentlest way to put things.

“Jamie,” drawing out the final vowel, your eyes flick to his. His expression is eager with eyebrows raised in question.

“How long was this steak on the barbeque for?” 

“Like 10 minutes I think? Why?” Jamie pales slightly at your question.

“I think the heat was too high babe.” Jamie observes his steak with a close eye and then oggles yours from across the table before reaching for his knife. 

“What do you mean? You said it looks amazing, I mean look at those char marks!” 

“Jamie baby, it's practically still moo’ing…” Trevor bursts out laughing, his stupid wheeze accompanying Jamie’s panic. As his knife breaches the admittedly lovely crust, bloody liquid pours out of Jamie’s steak as well. The color of his cheeks grows to match that of what's on his plate. Jamie starts to say something but it’s Trevor’s voice you both hear instead.

“Just put it in the microwave.” 

—

The team returned last night from the East coast road trip. You and Jamie have been in denial about Trevor’s return, trying to stretch out the silence with a lazy day on the couch. Trevor however has had other plans.

“Why do I have the least blanket right now? I’m literally the tallest of us three.” 

“Because no one invited you to join?” You shove at Trevor’s toes that are digging into your thigh from how you’re sardine-d on the couch. He whines as you do so, pushing at you back. Harder. “Ow Trevor stop!” 

“What I’m not fucking doing anything!” 

“Guys! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Jamie bursts, effectively shutting you both up. Trevor glares at you as you snuggle further into Jamie’s chest, Jamie's arm visibly tightening around you. The face you give Trevor is smug. 

“Fine, I’ll just go somewhere else then.” As he stands from the couch he makes an equally childish display of flipping the blanket up and over your head, messing up your hair and covering your eyes.

Jamie coos quietly at you not to say anything or react so you remain calm and settle in to watch the rest of the current episode of Yellowstone with your boyfriend.

A few minutes later when there is a distinct cacophony of falling caps, banging metal doors, and at least a liter container of liquid (hopefully closed) hitting the floor, it’s not hard to tell Trevor has decided to do his laundry. He comes back upstairs acting as if nothing was afoot. 

It’s not until an hour later when Trevor has made the switch to the dryer that you notice something actually might be off. Wafting up from downstairs is a distinct smell of burning. You pause to be sure your nose isn’t confusing something else before voicing your worry.

“Do you smell that?” Jamie sniffs violently enough to be audible. 

“What are you– oh shit!” Jamie moves from behind your back leaving you flopping onto yours from his quickness. “Trevor!!” He shouts while bounding down the stairs. “I told you, you have to clean the lint trap every single time you use the dryer!” His voice grows inaudible the farther downstairs he gets. Trevor peeks his head out from his room. 

“Was he talking to me?” You can’t help but laugh, hands covering your face in disbelief.

“Why are we friends with you?” 

“I’m fucking awesome, duh.”

—

“Okay don’t panic–” Is all you hear before you start to panic. “But umm Z might’ve slipped on the roof…” 

“Tell me you’re joking. Why are you calling me? Oh my god Jamie, call the trainer or something! Is he hurt?” It’s brisk in the shade where you stepped out of your office to answer the incessant calls from your boyfriend. You’re still not off for another hour. 

“I think he’s okay. Definitely tore open his leg but we put some stuff on it. He’s still complaining about it but you know him, he’s always complaining about something so I think he’s okay.” As Jamie finishes, your phone vibrates with a text. “I sent you a picture of it.” The picture reveals a shallow cut about 6 inches long down the front of Trevor’s calf. There’s still remnants of blood around the cut itself and more notably about 12 normal sized bandaids placed like a patchwork quilt over the area of interest. Idiots. “We didn’t wanna get in trouble with the team…” Jamie says softly, decidedly embarrassed.

“I see. Okay well great job with the band aids you guys. I’ll pick some more up on the way home and some other supplies. Why were you up there?” 

“I was playing guitar and Trevor came up to tell me he could do it better and then promptly took it from me.” There’s a pouty lilt to Jamie’s voice that makes you wonder if Trevor’s really the one that got hurt. 

“Did he damage your guitar Jim Jam?” A shiver rakes your body as you’re desperate to get back inside the office.

“No, thank god.” He’s quiet, waiting for your reply. 

“You’re doing great Jamie, it’s really coming along baby.” He chirps a thank you, easily excited by your dismissal of Trevor’s insult. The two of you say your goodbye’s over Trevor’s whining in the background. 

On your way home, as promised, you stop at a drugstore to grab some gauze and larger wraps for Trevor’s ‘injury.’ You send a snarky picture of two contending boxes of Band Aids side by side to Trevor. Your caption ‘Mandalorian or Tangled?’ Something tells you Trevor’s reply is completely serious when your phone lights up with ‘Flynn Rider.’

—

Jamie slips into your shared bathroom as you’re fanning gently at your face. He smiles kindly but doesn’t start a conversation. Instead he reaches for his toothbrush and sets to brushing his teeth. The two of you don’t normally get ready for bed together at the exact same time. Typically one of you is asleep on the couch and being prodded at by the other to come to bed. Well, you normally prod at Jamie while he normally gallantly carries you to bed without disturbing your sleep. As he brushes his teeth, Jamie observes you as his entertainment. He steadies himself with a hip popped against the counter and one foot crossed in front of the other. 

Jamie’s attention does not bother you. Being the type not to speak until prompted, Jamie’s stays silent, his watchful gaze comforting if anything. That is until his lips form a small smile around his toothbrush that begins to grow. Finally you flick your eyes over to him in the mirror and notice toothpaste beginning to trickle down his chin. A drop that was lingering ominously begins to fall so you lurch forward to catch it in the palm of your hand, not wanting to risk the white carpet square Jamie’s standing on. 

“If you keep smiling like that you’re gonna get toothpaste on yourself Jamie. Be careful.” The toothpaste in your palm is flicked into the sink before you promptly rinse your hand. Jamie heeds your warning, deciding it's time for him to rinse as well. After his hands are towel dried he moves to hug you from behind. The smile is still on his face.

“Seriously, what are you smiling about, mister?” A giggle escapes your chest. You feel Jamie’s shrug against your back as you dig for another product in the drawer next to you. 

“Dunno, I’m just so happy you’re here.” Around you, Jamie’s never shied away from honesty and it’s something you’ve always appreciated. The last few months living with Jamie and Trevor has been chaos, hell at times, and insanely stressful but you’ve still found joy in every moment. So you meet Jamie’s honesty with some of your own when you say,

“There’s no place I’d rather be.” 

Later, when the two of you find yourselves curled around each other in bed, under an excessive number of blankets, it’s like Trevor has ESP for when he’s being left out of affections. A knock on the conjoining wall confirms this theory. His voice is muffled but you can still make it out.

“I love you guys.” Jamie chuckles and kisses your forehead, shaking with laughter of your own.

“We love you too Trevor.”

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #anaheim ducks #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #ducks hockey #my writing

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

Tell us about more size kink and Eddie pls 👀😁

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE AKSKDKDKD

okay so i really think his size kink is just with the size of his dick. i know some size kinks can be focused on height and all that in your partner, but p**n star!eddie’s is solely on his cock. i’m literally not even joking when i say that this man is fucking huge. even when you’re at your wettest, it’s gonna hurt at least a little every time he fucks you. the good thing, though, is that he knows how to use it well—he can figure out what depth you’re most comfortable with, what speed brings the least amount of discomfort, what positions work best for you, etc. if you don’t mind pain (a little or a lot), then good news! you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff, and shit is gonna get fucking wild during sex.

but back to the topic at hand. oh man, does he fucking love comparing his dick to the size of your pussy. he’s an adult film star, so obviously he’s seen a tremendous amount of it. he’s fucked them all—tightest, wettest, deep, shallow, you name it. and there’s a reason why his films with the tightest pussies sell the best, because he’s out here bringing the size kink into it. he has a stomach bulge kink to go along with it as well, meaning he loves it when he can see the tip of his dick inside of the woman’s lower stomach. the size kink, the stomach bulge, and the throat bulge from deep throating are some of his best moneymakers, with some of the others being the gay p**n he does, threesome stuff, bdsm (his heaviest bdsm films do better than his lighter ones), and there was even a film he did of him masturbating to a fantasy he had of a really hot woman that sold insanely well. i’m sure you can take a great guess as to why, with everything you know about ps!eddie.

and even in all of those, size kink was often brought up at least once. he would ask if it hurt having such a huge cock inside of them, if their throat hurt from how deep his massive dick was shoved into it, he would slap it against their lower belly and say he couldn’t wait to get into their guts with that thing, that he was excited to see his tip in their belly, the works. i’m sure he’s also going to mention the fact that he gets so swelled up over the fact that such a tiny pussy can hold such a big cock, too. but hell, even that doesn’t compare to the filthy shit he says to you when you guys start having sex.

let me just list a few examples of the shit he would say to you:

“i can see my dick inside of your throat, baby. fuck, i want you to swallow around me. i want to feel just how goddamn full you are.”

“your gorgeous little cunt is taking all of me so well. fucking christ, can you hear how wet she is right now? how goddamn filthy it sounds as i push inside of her, getting her nice and full?”

“your pussy’s hugging me tight as fuck, baby. i don’t think she’s used to having such a big dick, is she?”

“your hand looks so small wrapped around my cock. think you can fit it all in that pretty mouth of yours?”

“look at that bulge in your belly, princess. i’m so fucking deep inside of you right now that i can see it.”

he’s also going to hold his cock up to your pussy to compare the sizes. he’ll slap it against your cunt, reveling in how much you squirm & moan because of how heavy it feels. he’s going to enjoy anal with you, too (if that’s your thing; if not, he won’t pressure or force you to do it! he’s a respectful king, always & forever). but he’s very careful when it comes to that, and doesn’t go too deep because jesus, he doesn’t want to kill you or hurt you badly.

he will also get off so hard on super hardcore blowjobs, because of that damn size kink. he’s so thick that it’s hard for your mouth to accommodate him, so you’re drooling all over the damn place and making a mess that way. he’s fucking into your throat and feeling how tight it is, and will make comments on it the whole time, probably. he will love cumming in your mouth and down your throat, watching you choke on that & on his dick. he loves seeing the spit & his cum dribbling down your chin, some of it forming a thick bridge of saliva from your mouth to the tip of his erection when you pull off. fuck, does he love that sight: you on your knees, covered in so much spit and his cum, your lips shining with all of it, eyes gleaming with lust, desperation written all over your face. all because of his cock roughly fucking your pretty little throat.

and don’t get me started on titty fucking with that thing, either. the smaller your tits in that situation, the more he’s gonna be turned on by it. and if your boobs are too small to fuck, well, you’ve got nipples, right? he’s gonna rub that big dick of his all over them, loving how they harden underneath it. he’s gonna love it so much regardless, because even ps!eddie is one million percent a boob dude—of all shapes and sizes.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader

[imdoingsortagay]

Wanda’s Lazy Day

Summary- After weeks of non stop orders at the bakery, dealing with kids at home and trying to help her friends out with problem they had, Wanda finally has one day to herself where she can be lazy and watch countless baking shows in the comfort of her home 

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: anyways i love being lazy

Warnings: fluff

Happy reading besties 

After a couple of weeks of dealing with countless orders that were placed in the bakery, both of her kids needing help with some projects at school and whatnot, Wanda finally had some free time to enjoy one of her favorite pastimes, spending a majority of the morning in her comfy PJs, eating some Chinese food and binging seasons of some baking shows on Netflix. 

When she had first started the bakery and it was only her who was running it ( before she had hired people) she loved to spend countless hours binging shows like the great British baking off or whatever baking show that the cooking channel would seem to be airing when she was working. Getting inspiration for any new flavors or just for a way to make the time pass in the shop. 

So when the redhead had seen that she had 2 days that she didn’t have to be at the bakery or that nobody had placed any orders it meant that she could finally have a lazy day at home. It wouldn’t be a fully lazy day since she’d have to take the boys to school and pick them up but she’ll take what she can get at this point. 

All she was waiting to complete her lazy day was her regular Chinese order from her favorite restaurant in town, Wok this way. One of the only restaurants in this area that sells anything other than burgers which she has to thank Rose for her whole life recommending. 

 “ Where did you even find this place rose? “ Wanda asks her friend as they make their way to a small restaurant. It had only been a couple of months since she and the twins had moved to Westview but with her duties as a single mother, she never really got the time to herself and this is where her dear friends and neighbors step up to give her a day to relax. 

Even though you didn’t know Wanda much, you and Agatha had volunteered to babysit the kids for the evening while Rose was in charge of taking the young mom out for an evening to shop, eat and just have time to relax from her busy life. It took a while for her to leave the young babies with her friends but she was proud of herself that she did it. 

“ Aggie did when she was walking home one day, trust me honey when I say that their honey walnut shrimp is so fucking die for,” rose says to her, making it a point to emphasize the shrimp menu they have as they walk there. Before Wanda even chose to come here she didn’t have many options when it came to food because stark always chose the best because “ we have to be at our best and we can’t do that 

It was one of her favorite comfort foods when she was feeling sad along with all the recipes from her childhood in Sokovia. It never fails to bring her back from a bad mood or relax her on a day like today. 

The food came in 30 minutes as per usual by the son of the owners, always amazing the redhead at how quickly he can even deliver it to her house on a bike but she won’t question it.

Wanda checks her list to see everything and is ready to have a great British bake-off marathon when she gets a text from none other than Agatha. 

Agatha: help pls help 

Wanda: hi hello! How are you? what do you need help with? 

Agatha: Me and the little lady are going out of town to a concert and I want to surprise her with an outfit 

Wanda: And you need me to help with fashion choice? 

Agatha: See she doesn’t know about the concert 

Wanda: Oh you dummy 😂

After an hour of talking to Agatha between different outfits, Wanda finally can start to catch up on 2 episodes from 3 seasons when she hears her phone ringing. It couldn’t be you because Wanda had remembered you were gonna be out of town for some important work meeting, Agatha just text her about her problem so it was just about rules for everyone who would call her. 

Until she saw the caller ID and had to fight the urge not to throw her phone into the wall.

“ HI Jake this is Miss Maximoff, what did you need ?” she answers in the sweetest tone even tho all she wants to do right now is not have to deal with stuff from the bakery. It’s not like the dude could read her energy through the phone if he can’t do basic shit. 

“ So there’s a problem with the electricity, I was helping out a customer with the cake order you did when all of a sudden it just went out, was off for 5 minutes, and then came back on” He explains and she runs to her little home office to check something on her calendar. 

Seems to be paid so why would it do that? 

“ She was talking about how this was important and might have yelled at me a bit which made me cry but I don’t want to embarrass myself so i-” 

“ Jake sweetheart, i’m gonna call you back and see what’s the problem,” Wanda tells the poor boy and proceeds to do some investigating, deciding to move her laptop to the living room to try to catch up on at least another episode of the great British bake-off. 

It took the redhead 2 episodes of bake-off later to get ahold of the electric company in town and she was able to help a very tired-of-the-day Jake with his problem. He had apologized many times over the phone to his boss and made sure to thank her before hanging up the call and giving Wanda some well-needed self-care time. 

For the next two hours, Wanda is in bliss, in the comfiest of sweatpants, a cozy blanket, and a good-sized bowl of popcorn, not to forget the Chinese food too. 

Just as she was about to get into her third season of bake in the day, the door bursts open, Billy and Tommy running into the house at full speed excited to finally be home for the day to relax and be with their mom. 

“ Hi mom,” both of them say in unison as they make their way to the couch, carefully hugging Wanda to not spill the popcorn all over the place.

“ How are both my favorite boys ever? Did you both get along in school ?” she asks, paying very close attention to how their days went. 

She was always excited to hear about her son’s day, making it sort of a daily thing to have them tell each of their days went Wanda even telling them how her day went too even if they didn’t get the inner workings of the bakery or didn’t seem too interested in adult stuff.

The rest of Wanda’s “ lazy day “is spent helping out her sons with homework, talking to billy about how to do complicated math, and showing Tommy some of her fighting moves that she learned while during her many years as an avenger.

Once both boys were fast asleep in their room, Wanda prepares to start her nighttime ritual and hears her phone ring and sees that she has a text from you. 

y/n: 

Look at this kat I saw outside of the hotel Wanda, I named him Mr cat :3

She giggles at the cute picture of the black cat in your lap, happy to be able to conclude this fun “ lazy day” with a text from you. 

#Scarlet pastries 🥮 #scarlet pastries au #Baker!Wanda Au #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel imagine #wanda maximoff fluff

[ezrisdax-archive]

I completely forgot about "help desk support b'elanna dealing with ext 709 on the phone every day" so now you've gotta say more about this AU

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Harry asked B’Elanna as the phone rang again.

B’Elanna stared at the extension flashing on the screen.

709.

“No.” She said, half tempted to lift the phone up and drop it back on the receiver.

“B’Elanna.” Harry said in the tone that implied he wasn’t going to humor her usual antics today.

Tough luck to him because B’Elanna could out stubborn any one, any time.

The phone stopped ringing.

“There. It’s fine.” B’Elanna huffed.

And then the phone rang again.

“God dammit.” B’Elanna finally snatched the handset up. “What is it Seven?”

“You have taken considerably more time than usual to answer the phone. I take it to mean there must be a serious problem within the company that a call can be ignored so long.” Seven said without preamble.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “The only serious problem this company has is you.”

At the desk across from her Harry winced. She could have sworn she heard a muttered ‘here we go again’ from him but tuned it out.

~~

“My computer has ceased function.” Seven said when B’Elanna answered the phone again.

“Why can’t you just talk like a normal person and say it won’t turn on?” B’Elanna asked, sighing and trying to massage the incoming headache away already. “I’m surprised Seven, I thought you’d be able to fix a little computer issue.”

There was a pause over the line. “Janeway has informed me that it falls under your concern and as such I should allow you to do your job.”

“Allow me?!” B’Elanna sputtered. “Allow?!”

“However should you require the assistance I would provide it.”

“Oh how gracious of you.” B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “What would I ever do without you?”

“I theorize that you would be not be selling our software as well due to my continued cooperation with Borg.”

“Go back there already you drone.”

~~

it's funny I had to go back through our own conversation to find the roles I made for people but:

janeway: ceo chakotay: chief of operations tuvok: chief financial officer tom: salesman for the product they make b'elanna: tech support/product developer harry: tech support neelix: kitchen staff because they're fancy enough to have one idk emh: banker for the product kes: salesman seven: consultant for another product but janeway convinced her to join their team by poaching her

and no B'Elanna never learns Seven's name, just keeps calling her Seven like I have her do in every moden au.

I don't even know how I planned to end this one honestly that's where I mostly go stuck, I was just enjoying writing B'Elanna as tech support the way I was tech support, all the stupid calls I got included. And I had written Seven as doing her own tech support but fucking something up within the software because of it so Janeway makes her go through B'Elanna now. (people pls don't try to install your own software on work computers. it makes IT's life harder and believe me the auditing software will pick it up)

For a while the AU was just gonna have them be on the phone and keep missing each other in meetings due to something else happening so they don't meet face to face for a while and then???? yeah again I have no idea what I planned for this anymore.

#b7 #b'elanna torres #seven of nine #trek femslash #beej talks star trek #trillscienceofficer

[free-for-all-fics]

Squid Game prompts and thoughts. Yeah, I know this fandom may be dead, but these are old and have been sitting in my notes app for a long time so I figure I might as well share them here anyway. Maybe it’ll be revived at some point with season 2, who knows. If anyone is inspired by or uses these, pls tag me. I’d love to read it 💜

1. Since In-ho gave Jun-ho a kidney, what if you, In-ho’s spouse, have an unspecified life threatening disease but couldn’t afford treatment. You’re the motive for In-Ho becoming a dirty cop who takes bribes and later entering the games. After winning and becoming the Frontman, he secretly transfers you to his private quarters on the island while you’re cared for; mostly bedridden, closely monitored, hooked up to tubes and wires with all the medication you need, etc. Maybe you’re put in a medical coma or are otherwise in and out of consciousness/disoriented and lethargic. He spends years using his resources and power as Frontman to cure you. Even if he keeps you sedated to take that edge off reality and make things sort of a blur for you. So you’re in an almost constant stupor where you think you’re dreaming even when you’re awake, etc. He’d try to keep you in the dark about the games and what he does, but what if you know more than you let on? What if Jun-ho inadvertently found you while snooping in the Frontman’s private quarters during his investigation into the disappearances of both you and his brother? (Ep. 5 & 7)?

2. “Isn’t the idea supposed to be ‘you saved my life, now I owe you a debt’?”

“Nope. You saved my life, now I’m your problem.” With either Salesman or Frontman.

3. It’s been a few weeks since your (relative, friend, neighbor, you choose.) went missing. You hear a knock on the door. As you open it, you realize that the man in front of you is not a typical solicitor or salesman. Before you can say anything, he says, “They said you’ll pay the debt.”

4. He’s one of the best recruiters for the games. A mastermind of persuasion and manipulation. He could sell rocks to jewelers, woo any man or woman, and even get away with murder. Until he meets you, his match: The most obstinate, unyielding, stubborn person whom he’s ever encountered. Your personal records tell him you’re not in the best of situations, and yet you’re not falling for any of his tricks or games. There’s nothing you seem to want or need that he can offer you. You keep turning him down, declining everything he claims he can give you, totally uninterested and not falling for any of it. But that just makes you all the more intriguing to him. As frustrating as you are, you’re a challenge. And neither of you are ones to give up easily. Maybe he won’t recruit you to play in the games after all. Maybe your resolve to resist temptation shows him you have potential for something even greater.

5. You’re one of the most aggressive salespeople alive; you steal money from your “customers” but leave an item they want, of equivalent value, behind. You’re threatening the Salesman’s “business” by taking away his “customers”. He has to decide what to do about this. Would he try to get you out of the way? Or Perhaps you could be a useful “business” partner?

6. The world’s most arrogant salesman meets the world’s most ignorant customer.

7. In-ho and Salesman, or In-ho and Jun-ho prompt: After years of struggling to pay off your college tuitions, all your debts are taken care of. Relief grows into suspicion when you come home. An unfamiliar black vehicle is parked nearby. Two men in expensive suits stand up when you enter. How did they get inside? “You’re not an easy person to track down. You know that, right?”

8. You’re behind on payments. A salesman recruits you to do a “housekeeping” job to clear your debt, handing you a card. His “colleague” (The Frontman) will act as your benefactor if you accept. It isn’t until you’re kidnapped and wake up on an island that you find out your task is to act as a forensic cleaner. You’re expected to wash away, disinfect and sanitize every game’s messes, removing all traces of murder and death after bodies are disposed. Not a drop of blood in sight. No human matter or fingerprints left to be found. You haven’t officially met the Frontman, but from what guards have said, you don’t want to know what would happen if he found out you missed a spot. The pink guards and surviving players leave you alone to do your job at the end of each game. But something is wrong. It feels like someone is still there, watching you at all times. What’s also weird is you’re assigned a room close to the Frontman’s quarters and kept separate from the other guards. He doesn’t trust the other guards to leave you be. Basically, you’re the only masked guard who’s a woman during the games. In-ho and/or the Salesman is interested in you and purposely sought you out. What happens?

9. You’re deep in student debt with no hope to pay it off in your lifetime, so you do the logical thing: Fake your death and move to South Korea to live an inconspicuous life under a new identity. The bank can’t really do anything since you’re “dead”. All your paper/online trails have been expertly wiped. So you thought. Some years later, door-to-door salesmen in your area start asking to be let inside. You know that’s not how salesmen do things. Something’s up. This prompts you to move around the country, never staying still too long. Seoul, Busan, etc. you’re on the move the second you feel they’re onto you. Until a man in a gray suit enters your train compartment and slides the door shut behind him. He sits next to you despite there being empty seats. His polite demeanor becomes unnerving. Small talk becomes invasive. He asks rhetorical questions - already knowing everything about you. He’s backing you into a corner. He opens his briefcase to display damning evidence detailing your “past life”, a sly smile on his face. Well, shit. Can’t run or hide on a moving train. And it’s a non-stop trip that will take a few hours. What do you do now?

10. Being In-ho and Jun-ho’s younger sister would include, before and after In-ho’s entered the games? Or maybe a fic where you’re their younger sister and unknowingly in a relationship with the Salesman (as in, you don’t know what exactly he does for work and are in the dark about your eldest brother’s involvement with the games. Your other brother doesn’t tell you much, if anything, about his investigations into In-ho’s disappearance, claiming the less you know the safer you’ll be. To you, your eldest brother is still missing after so many years and Jun-ho is still trying to find him. You haven’t heard from either of them in so long. Recently, Jun-ho has stopped responding to your messages. Now you’re getting worried. You may have to go out there and find your brothers yourself, to hell with the risks.)

#squid game x reader #squid game imagines #squid game imagine #salesman x reader #the frontman x reader #gong yoo x reader #random fic ideas #fic ideas #these are old but I didn’t have the heart to delete them

[onyourhyuck]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚. | Season 2

synopsis; park areum is a journalist who happens to get her life involved with the mafia leader war and havoc, lee jeno. areum’s brother was kidnapped by the japanese mafia na yuta and areum was able to successfully get jisung back— however with a price that she betrays lee jeno by selling out important information of his base whereabouts. it’s been a year ever since that day and areum happens to get involved in the mafia world again.

warning: mafia au/theme, thriller, action, romance, smut!!, lots of fighting here and mentions of blood, park areum is a bad bitch ykyk, dreamies are here for plot, love triangle!!!!, angst.. massive angst, death mentions of characters, alcohol mention, guns mention, switch!areum, switch Jeno!, rough kissing, gripping, degrading, praising, love scenes, unprotected seggs [wrap your willys sons pls, use it 😃], slowburn romance, prepare for a long ass ride.JEALOUSY, Exhibitionist scenes (almost caught etc) semi public scenes with sexual tension. PLOT TWISTS AND CLIFFHANGERS <3 THIS IS SEASON 2, CHECK SEASON 1 OUT BEFORE READING THIS SEASON PLSSSS.

PART 3 / 25 PART 4 LINK

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the very next day, areum was late to work. she woke up after thirty minutes being late, arriving at work fifty minutes after. it was quite embarrassing already knowing that the coworkers knew why she were late. due to the alcohol yesterday she consumed it wasn’t hard to guess why she was late in the first place.

on the way to work areum parked in front of a shop where she saw jeno walking into. she technically is working if she is watching jeno, so she won’t get into trouble this way right?

a hand reaching to knock on the window caught areum’s attention, she’d flinch in process of realisation who it was in front of her. the man mouths ‘roll the window down’ to the woman who tried her best to ignore; areum curses under her breathe, pressing the button, automatically pulling down the windows.

jeno had a smug expression knowing the woman was caught just know. she really can’t beat the mafia at hiding. he leans forward leaning to the car window frame, head tilted inside. “were you watching me?”

the accusation was absolutely correct, but was areum going to admit it? no. areum scoffing out a forced nervous laughter, “no, i am a very busy woman.” jeno found it surprisingly endearing to see this embarrassed side. especially with how raw areum looks; not much makeup on, hair in a messy bun, oversized shirt and loose jeans, hoodie and a hangover expression. not to mention the very light love bites on the collarbone underneath the hoodie his eyes could perfectly eye on. he still found her absolutely beautiful inside and out though.

“i can see that with the way you look so hungover,” jeno points out. he saw the woman cautiously falter eyes, moving them nervously side to side. she gently rubs the back of her head, last night was engraved deep in her brain and it was replaying itself like a movie. she suddenly felt so exposed when jeno told her this. “give me a ride.” jeno suddenly calls, walking to the other side and getting in the car without a warning.

areum’s lips part in confusion, “i didn’t consent to this.” jeno looks over when his seatbelt was finally out on. “but i did, you owe me one after last night.”

she bit the side cheek, annoyed. “fine, where to?” she grumbled starting the car once again. “city central pharmacy.” he said.

areum had no idea why jeno went inside the pharmacy. in boredom areum was looking out, soon noticing jeno coming with a white bag in his hand swinging back forth. she looks over, rolling the window down again. “what did you buy?”

handing the bag to areum, her hands folded it as her face would peak inside. it was a bunch of hangover pills and a few contraceptive pills . the woman looks up furrowing eyebrows together, “why did you buy hungover pills?” Jeno leans down to decrease the height difference, so he could look areum into the eyes more. “take care of yourself more, don’t drink so much and come home early. stay out of trouble.” he said in a caring tone that was also a bit of nagging areum to be more responsible.

areum looks away sighing, she doesn’t really know how to respond to him. “i appreciate your thoughtfulness, jeno, but do you think this is appropriate..?”

he looks away, “think of it as an apology for last night, which is why I’m going to say this next.” he turns back to areum with a serious expression now, she felt the tension rise. “stay off the case and drop it. i don’t want you back into the mafia world again.”

“why, do you think i’ll betray you again?” areum was quick to shot fire at jeno. his lips falling in a straight angle. “if that were to happen again, I’d have no choice but to kill you.”

the sight of areum locked in the dark office room, looking at the biography of lee jeno, studying anything down, useful facts, anything literally. she sighs out thinking back on jeno’s words. would he really kill her?

“you don’t control me lee jeno…” areum mutters yo no one but herself. scrolling down on the biography, the legacy of nct was written down. sitting up, areum went to the first generation.

jeno’s great grandmother starting the group back fifty years ago, the original rules are the same as it is today— protect the innocent, kill the mafia groups that mess with you. later jeno’s father gained it when his grandma passed suddenly.

and the rest is unknown what happened to jeno’s father; however areum already knows the rest. she glances down to the website again, seemingly having some useful information.

a location caught the corner of the focused eyes. areum tilting her head. the address is nearby this town part of area, why is it called underground though? turning the laptop upside down, the picture all came together. a handle shape tucked behind the wall was seen on the thin edge of the photo she zoomed in on. she sits up recognising the hidden trap door, “there is no way.” she hurriedly puts on the sweater, rushing out the door this late out of the company.

she has to see it for herself. there is no way it’s true, if it is— she got lucky by looking at the photo.

areum couldn’t really believe it but when she braced herself towards the underground subway to a specific wall, the way her palm pressed the hidden trap door by a carried ‘click’ to set notice, the hidden wall started opening with a slit halfway. she was right, somehow her gut’s intuition brought this up. areum had no choice but to carry on, body entering fully the darkness stairway underneath the secret passage leading somewhere unknown.

she wasn’t sure if it even was theirs, maybe it was yuta’s base and she immediately fucked herself over.

the heavy smell of gunpowder ticking the very thin tip of the nose, a dusky scent evolving the more areum has pushed through deeply. a silent gasp was heard the moment areum felt a suffocating duffle bag embrace tightly. hands struggling on the fabric latched on the neck with impactful power.

‘shit not again.’ areum would think, somehow this felt like a nostalgic walk down the memory lane.

the duffle bag flies off the head leaving areum to finally able to start breathing again. sight of haechan, jaemin, and kun on the side staring areum down. the tan boy glaring in slight annoyance of the sight of his ex best friend.

areum looking at the front seeing jeno with crossed arms under his chest.

yup, this was definitely a run down the memory lane, not a walk, a run.

“this is some awful deja vu shit.” areum softly murmurs, hyuck next to the girl scoffing. “how did you find a way in here, and why are you sneaking around somewhere you shouldn’t be?” the boy was acting defensive and at this point aruem does not blame the boy.

areum rolls her eyes. “i was lost.” she lied forward, haechan opening his mouth not believing that. “that’s some bad lying skills you got there.” he’d jerk backwards.

jeno stood up walking forward. “quiet everyone.” their leader spoke with irritation. Haechan going quiet the moment jeno was coming forward. areum looks up to the man with white open shirt, a loose black tie laying down with black trousers and shoes. his hair lightly ruffled on the side.

when the silence were established, jeno leans down to where areum was sitting on the chair at front, his mouth inches away from the ear. “why do you always go against whatever i say, areum? do you think i’m joking around here?” he wasn’t having this whatsoever, truly not understanding areum’s intentions. it was as if proscrianation were a person in real life.

“why do you do everything in your power to stop me?” the woman asks forward, she was truly wondering this for a long time. the kind gestures, the way he told her not to go verbally. she doesn’t get it. they way her words folded from the tongue left jeno in a motion of thoughts. ‘because I don’t want you in danger,’ he slips a deep thought in his brain, instantly shrugging it away, he can’t be feeling this way.

“i need to speak to you.” jeno quickly said, turning towards the others who were watching their leader with observing eyes. “leave the room, i want us to be alone.” jeno demands.

“i have nothing to say to you.” areum was quick to reply, jeno not acknowledging her words whatsoever.

haechan turns to areum before soaring a glance to jeno; leaving first. kun following after, while jaemin spares an affection yet sad expression down to her. areum watching jaemin back, he was first to break the eye contact as he left jeno and areum alone.

the room fell into a tight crazy tension that areum has not felt for a while, the suffocating chest coming back to her, the way jeno was sitting in front of her with legs crossed leaning forward with power through eyes raging— he knows the effect he has on areum by now. the way she feels cornered even by the slightest movement from him. the way the silence bothers areum, the matter of fact that it’s just two of them alone sets areum on edge.

jeno speaks out first, leading the conversation knowing exactly he has the control over here and areum has no choice but to oblige and listen. “what’s the case about?” his eyebrow raise, he was now finally interrogating areum instead— not the other way around. he was questioning her, not her asking him.

she replies quickly, with observant eyes gliding on to jeno’s face; trying the very best to read him, but nothing coming out of the emotionless face, “the war with the japanese and korean mafia.”

“do you know who caused this war?” jeno suddenly asks. areum shaking her head.

temporary silence born between them, until his striking voice spoke piercing areum’s ears right through; not able to process what he meant.

“you did. you caused it.” he’d say. areum’s lips puckering out a soft ‘what?’

areum stops watching jeno stand up now walking around the wooden themed vintage room, a giant map of Seoul on the wall behind him, a computer and laptop both laying to the wooden desk. he slips about the area with hands tucking front trouser pockets, before speaking again to explain the situation.

“you were the key to this war in the very first place. the information you provided to the japanese mafia was the original secrets of our base. our large base is now destroyed, so is half of our power and men along with it. all thanks to that tiny amount of information being shared to the enemies.”

“which is why we are at the old base my great grandmother used. we have limited men and space. do you now see what you’ve done?” jeno points forward.

the man in front saw the guilt on areum’s face, the expression of she now knew how actually big her choices caused others to be effected by this. areum trembling lips stammer front, not sure how to find the correct words except for the fact that she is sorry.

“i’m sorry,” areum slowly starts. jeno softening the gaze at the disheartened woman in his eyes. “my men died meaningless deaths that day, last year ago.” he softly told. areum’s final strike when hearing those words, she looks on the ground shifting about with her hands on her knees.

she shifts to the ground going on the knees. “i’m sorry, I’m so- sorry. I’m sorry. i had no idea.” the woman bowed face front towards jeno’s legs. she held tight on the loose trousers, clenching them in the fists. her words broke up and all she could say were stuttering sounds. Hot tears streamed down the face, and she squeezed her eyelids shut in the hope her tears would stop. choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time, and she stayed in bow there unmoving. areum couldn’t find the courage to bring up jisung in the moment, that she had no choice but to do this; she didn’t want to lower any dead man’s responsibility, because it is her fault. she felt responsible.

the man saw the woman lower front guard now truly showing how she felt, the guilt eating up every bit of happiness areum held within her heart. hearing those choked up emotions that escaped past those red lips, he starts to feel sorry for areum, nevertheless the feelings he held for her were still there; but the scene of seeing his loved one begging for forgives as if he were god itself judging down the sins that areum had committed to many of his people in harm.

jeno bends forward now crouching on the ground, lifting areum’s face, flood of tears streaming down the cheeks. he brought the woman in a warm embrace, patting his hands down the back. areum wrapping the hands around the shirt from, face buried first into the shoulder, wet tears sobbing in the body scented fabric that she missed over the year.

“i know it wasn’t your intention of doing that, areum.” jeno softly trails. “i figured that out a long time ago..” he murmurs, stroking areum’s hair from behind gently. The embrace squeezing when the girl starting to hiccup by how hard she was breaking down.

he pulls away, wiping her eyes with the soft thumb running across the face. “i need you to do something to help us though..” jeno told.

“i’ll do anything to help out…” areum response, biting the bottom lip. “okay, first you need to calm down.” he said back, areum shaking head. “i’m fine, just tell me what you need to know.”

jeno paused admiring the strong side of areum once again, he can’t help but think she is brave for admiting to mistakes. mistakes that took jeno to admit to for years whereas she was able to confront them in a minute.

“we need to know his identity. without it, we’ll be tracking a ghost in this city.” jeno states, areum softly going to speak.

“the rival gang leader is…”

“na yuta.”

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MASTERLIST FOR HIS KARMA

@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and translating my work! REBLOG THIS, SHARE, COMMENT, LIKE AND FOLLOW ME TO SEE MORE OF MY CONTENT <3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #his karma #jeno smut #jeno hard hours #lee jeno #nct dream fanfic #nct series

[surrealsuriel]

Bound with Fire, Forged in Flames (Elucien Fic)

Summary // Masterlist // Next Chapter

Disclaimer: Girl, I know nothing about the regency era and I am so sorry for how obvious it is that everything I learned is from the Bridgerton show. Pls have mercy on me. 

Chapter 1 -- Purple Columbines

Elain

Word Count: 2201

Elain first heard his name while simultaneously feeling a sharp, stabbing sensation in her right index finger. She hissed at the pain, curling her hand towards herself to hide the drop of blood that sought after its attacker– the ever menacing rose. Her father hardly took notice, nervously adjusting his shirt as he relayed the news to her. 

“--and he’s a good man... From what I’ve heard. But your sister speaks highly of him and I trust–”

“Which sister?” Elain cut in, internally cringing at the show of disrespect. He gets enough of this from Nesta and Feyre. He doesn’t need it from me. 

… He deserves it from me right now. 

Her father’s sharp look at the disruption cut over her, assessing if he was about to answer her or correct her. “Feyre…” he said uneasily. 

“Lucien Vanserra… ,” Elain rolled the name off of her lips, biting back the burn she felt at the odd emotion of knowing this was the man her father deemed good enough to sell her off to. Like a whore, a wretched voice whispered right back to her. 

“And you said he arrives…?”

“Tomorrow, yes,” her father cringed. God, he has had to have known about this for at least a month, maybe more. Elain felt that burn again, but this time she swallowed down bile, rather than the name of some Lord a town over. “But as I said, he will be staying at our estate for a month before any wedding. We will have plenty of time to vet him and make sure he isn’t just some rogue off the street.”

He tried to add this sentence with a wink but she heard what he wasn’t saying. I won’t let him near you like the last one, not until I am sure. Elain appreciated the sentiment but she felt the sting far more. “I won’t be letting him out of my sight while he is here– that way we will be plenty introduced long before he can even think to say ‘I do’”. 

Once again, what her father wasn’t saying felt much louder than what he was. I will not let him out of my sight. 

Despite her perfectly modest and ladylike attire that covered her chest to toes, Elain felt wholly exposed by the new horizon that was rising before her. She felt the dim soul of innocence within her dance through the breeze of hope that passed. Hope for a new day with a new knight in shining armor. Elain stifled the extra beat of her heart before it could gain any new encouragement. 

She straightened her back with a resolve as she made a promise to herself. 

She would marry this man for her father and for her duty. She would not trust him and under no circumstance would she allow him to have her heart, or what remained of the tattered shreds of it. Those shreds were shards she protected herself with now. Even as they made her palms bleed and tears trickle from her eyes, she would hold onto them. Her heart was no one else’s. Especially Lucien Vanserra’s. 

“Go on Elain,” her father said, trying to avoid eye contact with her. Good, he should feel guilty.

“Go get washed up for supper. You’ll head straight to sleep after to ensure you are ready for Lord Vanserra’s arrival tomorrow. Come.” 

And like always, Elain dutifully followed. 

Lucien

Lucien was pissed and rightfully so. He was expected to meet his betrothed today but instead he was standing off beside his carriage while his team of idiots scuttled around trying to get it to unstick from the mud. 

Gods… betrothed. He scoffed. Even in his mind the word spat out and splattered against his skull, ricocheting through the worst parts of him. 

He had heard of Elain and her beauty, of course. A woman does not look like that and not get talked about, especially a Lady. But he wasn’t the first to go after her, and knowing he was going to be the last dulled any excitement or pride he may have felt about wedding the Elain Archeron.

He barely knew the girl, so they weren’t going to be a love match by any means. As if I’d ever have one, he internally sneered.

Another one, a quieter, darker part of him reminded. 

He shook his mind loose of those thoughts, thinking instead on the tedious month ahead. All he had heard about Elain was that she was pretty and liked to garden. Classic. Gods, he just hoped she didn’t throw herself at him the second she saw him. 

Lucien knew he was good looking and he knew he was cocky about it, but such should be expected from a notorious rake. Unfortunately, he was cursed with enjoying the chase, although women never seemed to run too far from him. He hoped Elain would be interesting, as once he married he did not intend to stray from his marriage bed. He was a rake, sure, but not a rake without honor. 

Here’s hoping she doesn’t try and shorten my last month of freedom by asking to wed early, Lucien’s mind supplied bitterly. Maybe it was a bit cliche to consider Elain some sort of prison, but Lucien had no interest in marriage, a fact he had made clear plenty of times to his father. The cruel man probably just wanted to get rid of him and gave him to the most convenient match– a match rich enough to advance their own name but near enough geographically that Lucien still remained under his father’s thumb.

His driver signaled the cart was unstuck and ready to get a move on. 

“About an hour till we reach the estate, my Lord,” the yell muffled by the walls of the carriage rang in his head. 

One hour till the rest of my life, Lucien thought with no excitement. 

Elain

Elain wrung her hands out nervously in front of her as the clopping and jangling gave away the approaching carriage to her position on the front law of her home. Have carriages always moved that fast? This one seemed REALLY fast. It does not need to be going THAT fast. 

She took a steadying breath and glanced towards her father who looked just as nervous as her for the approaching carriage. Elain was suddenly reminded that he had never done this before either. Both her sisters had met their now husbands on their own and fallen in love with little arranging or meddling. 

Although Feyre had faced her fair share of nightmares with her first love who had tried to steal her away from the family before being married(long story), Rhysand had been a sort of savior to both Feyre and their family after they fell in love. 

Sure, Elain’s father was a duke with land and resources, but when Feyre had her first season out as a lady of society, the family had been secretly struggling with debt and the weight of their own lifestyle. They didn’t have enough money to keep pretending they were wealthy, but if they stopped acting they could have been rejected from society, a worse fate than starvation for them. 

Rhysand and his crown had saved their family from poverty, and Feyre got to be disgustingly in love so win-win-win. Shortly after Feyre and Rhys celebrated their union, Cassian, Rhys’ brother, and Nesta had been found in a spare closet in a compromising position to say the least. To maintain his honor, Cassian proposed and Nesta didn’t have much of a choice but to say yes which pissed her off to no end. She had despised their predicament for months before finally admitting that yes, maybe she kind of liked Cassian.

To the shock of the ton, Nesta and Cassian were now even more in love than their siblings. Despite Elain’s constant blush and horror, they were always all over each other. Elain simply did not understand. Whatever happened between a man and his wife could not possibly be that good or warrant that much noise. 

Even throughout the backwards ways her sisters had ended up with love matches, she knew her father was secretly pleased that two of his three daughters married well-off and to men they loved and who loved them. It was quite the shock when Elain had been the last sister left amongst the three. It wasn’t her fault that man after man had come knocking and all ran for the hills when they discovered she wasn’t as docile as their ideal inanimate doll of a woman was supposed to be. 

But here she was–anxious and awaiting an arranged marriage that she had no say in. This wasn’t supposed to be her fate, but she supposed that 3 out of 3 daughters finding their own love matches was a bit too lucky to hope for. 

The sound of crunching gravel beneath boots shook Elain from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Lucien Vanserra in all his glory. He towered over the men beside him both in stature and in looks. His red hair blazed under the afternoon sun, and Elain swore to herself that the fire of his hair was all that was causing her to heat up. His forest green attire did wonders for his tan complexion and his deep gaze penetrated every pore of her body as he glanced over her. 

Elain couldn’t help but think, This is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. 

And that pissed her the fuck off. 

Lucien 

Lucien would be a fool to deny the fact that talk amongst the ton did not do Elain Archeron justice. The woman was ethereal. She had the essence of a spring breeze dipped in honey and sprinkled with gold. It was an effort to only graze his appreciative stare over her once. 

When he did finally bring his gaze up to meet hers, he was startled to find a fire behind her eyes. What on Earth could I have possibly done in the past 10 seconds to already piss her off? He inwardly groaned. 

He tentatively stepped forward and, who he presumed to be Lord Archeron, met his step. 

“Lucien, it is an honor to have you as a guest in my home and as a future son-in-law. I look forward to getting to know you and you getting to know our family, although as I have heard, you are already familiar with my youngest… ?” he asked.

Lucien’s years as an emissary kicked in as he charged up his charm. Best to avoid the silly little fact that he actually met Feyre while still best friends with the man who tried to literally steal her from the father standing before him. His friendship with Tamlin had long ended since he saw his true colors, but it was still probably not the best introduction. 

“Yes, yes! Feyre and I met a while back when she first started her courtship with Rhysand. They have been all too kind to me over the years, and I am lucky to consider them both friends,” Lucien lied easily. This seemed to set Elain’s father at ease as he slowly stepped aside to present his daughter. 

She looked at him and making eye contact with her nearly had him on his knees. 

Gods what is this woman doing to me? He cursed internally. 

Lord Archeron spoke, “It is my privilege to present you my daughter, Lady Elain Archeron, your betrothed.” 

She curtsied, leaning down before him and it took every bit of self-control in Lucien’s body to quell his inner-rake that yelled at him to look slightly south, but he kept eye contact with her as she held out her hand. 

Lucien swears he meant to innocently kiss the back of her hand, but as her hand approached him and his head dipped, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was as immediately intoxicated by him as he was by her. A millimeter from his lips hitting her hand, Lucien flipped it over, placing a delicate kiss against the pulse point on her wrist. He let his lips settle against her for a moment, feeling for her heartbeat.

Beat. Beat. Beat Beat. Beat. Lucien felt her heart sing for him and he couldn’t suppress the smirk that rose on his face at the thought that he was affecting her as much as she was affecting him.

By gods, please let her feel this, too, so I am not crazy and pathetic. 

Before he could make his home on her pulse point, she snapped her hand away, a slight frown above those same, blazing eyes as she set her mouth into a hard line. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Lord Vanserra,” Lucien felt his own traitorous heart lean in towards her as he finally heard her voice, melodic underneath her clipped words that held absolutely no pleasure for meeting him. 

His euphoria was quickly severed as she turned, rushing out that she must be going before disappearing into the gardens beside them. What to make of this. 

So there would be a chase after all… he thought gleefully. 

#elucien fic #pro elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien #elucien au #sarah j. maas #elain archeron #elain #lucien vanserra #lucien is a simp #regency au #exposition is boring i’m sorry #no beta we die like papa archeron

[rylekayner]

pls tell me more abt jets punk au 👂👁️👁️👂

Wooo yes let’s go.

Ok so i’ve got a bunch of vague unconnected thoughts hence why I’ve been making my little drawing series instead of an actual fic so this is going to be very disjointed. I don’t know how long this may end up being so I’ll put it all bellow the cut :))

Mark and Connor meet at work, Mark is a tattoo apprentice and Connor is a piercer. Initially there’s a lot of tension between them, they’re opposite sides of the same coin.

Connor is an agitator and Mark’s uptight.

Half of Mark’s personality is that he’s completely straight edge and Connor used to sell drugs in high school.

Connor is a crowd killer, Mark is Mr pit etiquette.

It comes to a head when they both end up at a house show, Connor elbows Mark right in the face (genuinely by accident but to this day Mark doesn’t full believe him) and Adam drags them out side and tells them they need to get their shit together and either fuck or fight but just get it over with. Given Connor’s reputation Mark assumes he’s about to have to start throwing punches when he’s grabbed by his collar until he realised he’s being pulled in for a kiss.

They end up actually talking things out a realise they actually do a good job of rounding out each others harsher edges. Connor aggressiveness, and Marks elitist tendencies.

They still fight even 4 years into their relationship but they understand each other now much better than pretty much anyone else.

-

The band starts with Mark on guitar and vocals, Connor on drums with back up vocals and Troubs on bass. They end up adding Josh as lead guitar after his old band breaks up (not sure of the details with this one but I want Draisaitl in there somewhere cause I like the history between Jmo and Drai).

Troubs ends up leaving the band when he gets a “real job” in New York but he introduces the rest of the guys of Kyle as their new bassist.

Kyle would never admit it but he was terrified of Helle for the first couple of months, Connor has been in Winnipeg for years at this point but his reputation from the Michigan scene still haunts him and Kyle and heard stories. It’s almost hard to reconcile this version of Connor as the same one who’d allegedly set someone backyard on fire back in Michigan.

They end up bonding over making fun of Mark and Connor’s happy to have someone to smoke with again. Mark is still straight edge just less pretentious about it and Josh will do edibles but doesn’t like smoking so it’s been a while since Connor’s hand someone who will physically smoke with him. Once Kyle gets over his fear he has a little bit of hero worship going on which makes it very easy for Connor to convince him to get up to mischief.

This is going to end with mark/Connor/Kyle if I can help it.

-

Josh is a musical prodigy, he was in a metal band previously and has a crazy amount of skill with a guitar, mark thought he was being replaced when Troubs suggested recruiting him until Josh opened his mouth and they heard his excuse for singing (even for a punk band it was shocking) but he’s got a natural inclination to music in a way none of the other quite do. Together with Connor they write a majority of the bands songs.

He had a messy break up with Drai which caused his last band to fall apart and after that he mostly just focused on music and collage (he’s getting a masters in anthropology, they all thought it was a joke when he told them) but then there’s this new bouncer at Adams bar (Adam owns a dive bar sorry this is all very disjointed) and Josh is enamoured. Spoiler alert it’s Morgan who is not at all involved in the punk scene, he’s just new to Winnipeg and needed a job and now he’s at all of the gigs the play at Adam’s and Josh won’t talk to him because “he barely looks old enough to be in here”

Uhhh I think that’s it for the moment I’m on a lot of pain meds but if you wanna know anythjng in particular please ask I’m so excited to talk about this au the more I talk about it the easier it is for me when I eventually do write it

TL;DR

Mark: Straight Edge, Sings and Plays guitar, in a long term relationship with Helle

Connor: Shit stirer, plays drums, sometimes sings, writes a lot of the songs, in a long term relationship with Mark

Kyle: Newest member of the band, plays bass primarily but can play several other instruments, has something suspiciously flirty going on with Helle and Scheif

Josh: the most traditionally talented, plays guitar, is not allowed to sing under any circumstances, helps Helle with writing, had a nasty break up with Drai a few years back is now busy making heart eyes a Bear.

Morgan: Not really involved in the scene, just works as a bouncer for a lot of the gigs the boys play. Spends a lot of time day dreaming about Josh serenading him (only because he’s never hear josh sing)

#jets punk au #hockey rpf #asks

[ikeromantic]

Hey there!

I ABSOLUTELY LOVED your HC with the suitors w/ an chubby!s/o!!

I was wondering if you could do some of the other characters?I really don't mind which obvi bc i don't really wanna pressure you

Have a nice day!and pls hydrate urself and get a good amount of sleep 😊😊

These three scenes have been bouncing around my head for awhile. Thanks for giving me an excuse to write them anon! Approx. 2100 words of body-positive love from Vincent, Napoleon, and Charles. TW for self esteem and body image issues!

You can find other suitor scenarios with a chubby s/o here and here.

Vincent

Vincent woke early to get the perfect morning light for the portrait. He already had his sketch, his lover etched in delicate penciled lines. Reduced to the most basic shapes, a collection of circles and ovals, triangles and squares. He traced a finger over them lovingly. 

“Is that . . . how I look?” Her voice came from behind him, sounding tired and a little disappointed.

He turned and smiled, the world brighter already for her presence. “It’s just the sketch. It helps me place you in space and perspective.” 

She nodded but didn’t smile. “Should I sit then? Or do you need me this morning?”

“I always need you.” Vincent stroked a finger along her jaw and down her neck. Painting her took such restraint, he thought. 

This, at least, brought a smile to her lips and a flush to her cheeks. “Hey! I mean for painting!”

He laughed. “I know. I know. I am sorry mijn schatje. Yes, go set up on the couch there.” 

She did as he asked, draping herself in a close approximation of the sketched posture. “Good?”

“Mmm, but you’re still in your robe.” Vincent tilted his head, his wide blue eyes taking in how covered she was, the tension in her shoulders and back.

“I didn’t need to be nude for the sketch.” Her fingers tightened on the robe, clearly nervous.

Vincent nodded. “I just needed the shape of you. But now I need to see the light on your skin. The way your shadow falls. The colors the morning sun brings out of you.” He smiled slowly, warmly. “And I just want to see you.” 

“What if - what if someone comes in?” Her eyes flitted to the door and back. “Or - or sees the portrait!”

“I am not going to share this one. It’s mine.” His eyes lit with a possessive flame, the expression somehow more intimidating on his gentle features than the scowls his brother managed. “And the door is locked.”

Out of reasons not to shrug out of the robe, she reached for the ties. She undid the one at her waist but still held the robe shut. Without looking up, she asked, “Are you sure about this? Do you really want a nude portrait of me?”

Vincent felt a sudden pang of guilt. Had he pressured her into this? What if she didn’t want to pose for him? Was he being selfish or unkind? To her of all people? He set down his paint prep and went to her, kneeling beside the couch so that he could meet her eyes. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

She sighed. “No. It’s not you, Vincent.” She shrugged. “I just don’t feel like I’m model material. You could be painting anyone. Girls with slim bellies and long legs and, I don’t know . . . pretty girls.”

He blinked, processing the unexpected reply. “But I want to paint you. Just you.”

“You don’t have to say that. It wouldn’t bother me if you painted someone else.” She tried to smile. “And that would be a painting you could share. Theo could display it, sell it. Not one you have to hide.”

Vincent took her hands, gently rubbing circles on the backs of them to release the tension in her grip. “Mijn liefje, I want to paint you. You are my beauty. My joy. I want to capture some of that on canvas. It is selfish of me . . . but I love you so much. Do you really not want this? I won’t make you if it will leave you sad.”

She held his gaze, searching their depths. “I . . . I do want you to paint me.” Her breath caught. “I just don’t feel like a good subject.” She patted her thighs. “I have stretch marks and cellulite. I’m not very photogenic.” 

He smiled and kissed the spot she’d touched. “Is that what you call those pale lines?” He drew a finger down her side. “I like the way they feel when I kiss them. Smooth. Like satin.” His fingers drifted lower, to the outer edge of her leg. “And this,” he pinched her lightly. “Soft. Dimpled and precious. I like the way it moves when your legs are on my shoulders and I’m -”

“Ah, Vincent!” She flushed red, her skin warm to the touch. “Can you not . . . talk about that right now?”

“But I was just telling you how beautiful you are. Every part. How much I love looking at you. Feeling you.” He laid his head on her lap. “Will you let me paint what I see?”

She laughed softly. “I feel so ridiculous agreeing to this, but alright.”

Vincent helped her shrug out of the robe. He couldn’t stop himself from taking advantage of the moment to run his hands along her back. He felt such hunger for her, insatiable. His eyes devoured her as she turned, trying to cover her breasts and the swell of her mound with her hands.

When he didn’t move back to his canvas, she nudged him. “Ummm . . . I thought you were going to paint me? While we had the morning light?” 

“There will be morning light tomorrow.” Vincent stepped close, his fingers tracing her hip.

“I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to strip for you again tomorrow,” she warned. 

Vincent smiled, not an innocent look, but a happy one. “Then I will paint you now. And when the light is too harsh, I will put my brushes away and I will paint your skin with my lips.”

Napoleon

“Le Comte has a stable?” The girl looked around at the stalls, the hay bales, and grain barrels with an expression of stunned surprise.

Napoleon grinned. “Of course, nunuche. Where do you think the carriage horses come from?” 

“And you have a horse.” 

He chuckled. “I do. Though Vizier is no French Trotter.” The horse snorted and stuck its head over the stall door. “That’s right. Much too fancy to pull a cart, aren’t you?” Napoleon patted its nose and pulled a sugar cube from his pocket.

She approached, staying a little behind Napoleon. “What kind of horse is he then?”

“A Moroccan Barb. Good natured, fast.” Napoleon sounded affectionate. “Isn’t scared when Jupiter lands on the saddle horn.” He glanced back at her. “Want to feed him?”

“Umm, sure?” 

He handed her a carrot. “Just hold that out and keep your fingers clear.” 

She did as he instructed, giggling when Vizier’s velvet muzzle brushed her hand. The horse crunched the carrot happily and she petted his nose. 

“We should go for a ride,” Napoleon decided. “Come along.”

“What? But I don’t know how to ride! And I don’t have a horse.”

“You can ride with me.” He put an arm around her. 

She pulled back and looked at him anxiously. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Napoleon tilted his head, his jade green eyes missing none of her trepidation. “Are you afraid to ride? I promise, he is a very good horse. Gentle. And I will be with you.”

“I -” She wanted to ride with him but she looked down, hand knotted in her skirt. “I’m scared I will be too heavy.”

“Heavy?” 

“‘Leon, don’t make me say it. You know I’m not a - a small girl.” 

 He watched her quietly for a moment more, taking in her insecurity and nervousness. Then Napoleon sighed and pulled her close, into a hug. He kissed the top of her head. “You are so sweet sometimes, mon ange. Worrying for Vizier.” He tilted her chin up with his fingertips to meet his gaze. 

Her eyes were wide and full of a fear of rejection, as if he could find fault in her.

“Vizier has carried full grown men and tack and weaponry. Carrying you? It is not a problem. But do you know what is?” 

She shook her head.

“You believing you are less, that you cannot do things, all because you are soft and round.” Napoleon’s gaze was heated, intense. 

“‘Leon, I . . . there are some things . . . and people look at me so . . .” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “I know you say I am beautiful but people are cruel and this world is not built for big girls.”

Napoleon pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You are beautiful. I do not just say it. Cruel people are stupid, crass, and without courtesy. Ignore them. And if the world is not built for you, then let us build that together. There is no shame in asking for better. In trying and doing everything you want to do, and making a place for yourself.”

She laughed and kissed him back. “You make it sound like it’s so easy.”

“I never said it would be simple, nunuche. Only that we can do it. I don’t want to see you deny yourself out of fear or embarrassment.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “Are you ready to go riding with me? Or must I shower you with more compliments and kisses?”

Charles

Charles snuck an arm around his lover’s waist as if she might not notice his fingertips stroking her side. She blushed and pulled away a bit, straightening her shirt. 

“What is it? Can’t I snuggle?” 

His pouting lips and pleading eyes were almost impossible to resist. “Charles . . .”

He took her hand and pulled it to his chest. “I thought you like it when I touch you. We held hands yesterday in the park.”

They had held hands. And kissed. And she did like it when he touched her but she hadn’t worn a corset today and if he was touching her like that, on her side . . . she swallowed. “I did like it.”

Charles’ frown disappeared like fog at midday, replaced by the sunshine of his smile. “Oh! Good!” He pulled her close with the ease of vampiric strength and settled his arms around her.

She couldn’t help but notice how his fingers didn’t quite meet at the back. There was no way he wouldn’t notice but - she gave a small, sad laugh.

Seafoam green eyes searched her face, anxious. “What is it?” Charles was quixotic in his emotions, but always so very aware of hers. 

“I just . . . I’m feeling a little self conscious right now.”

He glanced around the empty room, trying to find an external cause for her discomfort. Finding nothing, his gaze settled back on her. “No one is watching. Not even le Docteur. We are alone, I promise. We have the whole castle to ourselves today.”

He’d said the same thing when he brought her here and gave her a small tour of his home. Well, le Voivode’s home in which he stayed. Everyone else was out for the day, selling flowers. 

“I didn’t even think about being spied on,” she grinned despite herself. 

“Then you don’t feel self-conscious anymore?”

She looked down. “I kind of still do, but it’s alright.”

Charles bent down and turned his head so that he could look up at her and meet her eyes. “It’s not. Anything that bothers you, bothers me. Please tell me what it is. I can fix it!”

He was so sweet, she thought. Silly, but sweet. “I am sure you’ve already noticed?��

Charles shook his head. 

“Ahhh . . . well . . . I’m not a small girl, yes?”

His brow creased as he thought this over. “Yes?” 

“And sometimes I get embarrassed about it. People say things. Or act differently because I’m not pretty - like other girls are. I’m not slim. You can’t wrap your arms around me or pick me up.”

Charles smiled brightly, concentration evaporating. “Oh but I can!” He gripped her waist at each side and picked her up. They spun around and then he set her down, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

Her lips curled up in a smile at his enthusiasm, only slightly dampened by the fact that his vampiric strength didn’t change how she looked. “Ok, yes,” she laughed, “you can pick me up. But a - a normal guy couldn’t. Because I’m -” the word fat stuck in her throat. Chubby. Rotund. Stocky. Husky. There was no way to say it that didn’t sound bad. 

“Beautiful? Is that what you mean to say? Because I don’t think a normal guy would deserve you.” His gaze turned melancholic. “I don’t deserve you either. But . . . I want to keep you anyway. Is that alright?”

She bit her lip. “You - you don’t mind that I’m like this? Overweight? That I have rolls and curves and -”

Charles looked confused for a moment, but despite his playful nature, he wasn’t a fool. He brushed a kiss across her lips before she could continue. “It’s not that I don’t mind. There isn’t anything about you that I disregard. That I overlook. I am not . . . how would you say . . . in love with you despite your shape.”

He paused to kiss her again. “I am in love with all of you. Exactly like this.” His smile returned as bright and sweet as ever. “Let me love you? Please? I promise I will show you how beautiful you are. How perfect I find you.”

And really, what answer could she give to that, but yes?

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp charles #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff #body positivity

[pensbridgertons]

Now that Taylor has released her new album, I need you to tell me which songs are perfect for swanfire 👀

OF COURSE 🫡🫡 the best part of getting a new taylor album is getting to add songs to the swanfire playlist

i’ll say that idk if this is a complete list yet bc im not super familiar w the album yet so there might be more i would add later but after a couple listens these are the ones i got (and also some of the lyrics i like/think fit them best):

loml

we embroidered the memories of the time i was away / stitching “we were just kids babe”

i said “i dont mind, it takes time” / i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed / i felt aglow like this / never before and never since

and all at once, the ink bleeds / a conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme / but i’ve felt a hole like this / never before and ever since

if you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary / what we thought was for all time was momentary

i wish i could recall how we almost had it all

our field of dreams engulfed in fire / your arsons match, your somber eyes / and i’ll still see it until i die / you’re the loss of my life

so long, london

i didnt opt in to be your odd man out / i founded the club she’s heard great things about / i left all i knew, you left me at the house by the heath

and i’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

two graves, one gun

you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? / i died at the alter waitin’ for the proof

just in general the vibes of this one fit them so well

the smallest man who ever lived

was any of it true? / gazing at me starry eyed

and i dont even want you back i just want to know / if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal

the whole bridge fits emmas perspective after neal left sooooo well

imgonnagetyouback

whether im gonna be your wife or / gonna smash up your bike / I haven’t decided yet / but im gonna get you back / whether im gonna curse you out or / take you back to my house / i haven’t decided yet / but im gonna get you back

i hear the whispers in your eyes / i’ll make you wanna think twice / you’ll find that you were never not mine

small talk, big love, act like i don’t care what you did / im an aston martin that you steered straight into the ditch / then ran and hid

even if it’s handcuffed im leaving here with you

told my friends i hate you, but i love you just the same

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

if you wanna break my cold, cold heart / just say “i loved you the way that you were” / if you wanna tear my world apart / just say you’ve always wondered

if the glint in my eye traced the depths of your sigh / down that passage in time back to the moment / i crashed into you, like so many wrecks do / too impaired by my youth to know what to do

so if i sell my apartment / and you have some kids with an internet starlet / will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? / like it never happened

cause i wonder / will i always / will i always wonder?

peter

honestly this whole song just fits them soooo well esp w the peter pan/lost boy imagery?????

preserved from when we were just kids??? I thought it was just goodbye for now??? you said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me??? promises oceans deep but never to keep??? and i won’t confess that i waited but i let the lamp burn as the men masqueraded i hoped you’d return??? lost to the lost boys chapter of your life??? please know that i tried to hold onto the days when you were mine???

PLS let me know ur thoughts also!!!! <3

#teresa answers #asks #mysteryandnonstopfun

[logicallyphan]

I need to ask you guys something and I need to know if I’m being dramatic or not. Sorry advance for the super long post RE my job life atm! Also please do not reply to the post. Just anon or message pls!!

I’ve been at my job for four and a half years now and its taking a toll on me,mentally. My boss is telling me that while im doing good, im not doing enough, leadership wise. the younger staff I work with don’t listen to me, let alone him. I work at a store that is mainly for 15-25 year olds so our younger staff is made up of that age group… which I do fall into but more towards the latter end.

There is little to no respect in that place. I have tried everything to get them to listen to me as I’m a shift lead and they just don’t care and im stuck doing their job PLUS my own. And on top of that it’s a consignment like shop, meaning for 4 and a half years I’ve had to decide if something is good enough for us to sell and if it’s not I basically have to tell them it’s not good enough. It’s awful. People get so upset over things that I have little to no control over.

But back to my point. My boss has been picking on me for the littlest of things lately. Him misreading my handwriting when my math was 100% accurate and he’s read it for years at this point. Him telling me I need to tell the girls to do more when I can only put out so much stock or clean so much before the job is done. Like all this little stuff that I can’t control.

And with the younger staff not listening to me, I’ve had to lie to them and told them the boss made a check list to follow when actuality I made it because they don’t want to listen. I ask them to do stuff and half the time they won’t do it! So guess who ends up doing it… me. And then my boss tells me to stop doing everyone’s job bc they’re standing around but it’s like I asked them and they just ignored me.

Idk I just feel like all my complaints and respect is ignored. And if I’m honest with you guys… this is the worst my mental health has been in a long ass time. I know for a fact it’s bc of this damn job. I fought to get this job for years and now that I’ve had for 4 and half years? I fucking hate it now.

I mean yeah sure it gave me great work experiences and I’ve made some friends and paid me great (doesn’t anymore lmao my vacation was paid for last year but not this year for no reason), it’s not worth it anymore. I feel like it went from the best job to the worst.

I should’ve left last year but I quit my second job after two weeks of working there bc I fucking hated it even more bc it was just fixing shoe displays for FOUR HOURS A DAY!???? I thought it would be more but nope. Anyways, here I am legit a month a way from vacation trying to find a new job asap and pray to god they give me the time off for it.

And lmao I kinda feel bad for my boss for doing this to him but like at the same time I don’t care. The only reason I feel bad is bc all staff but legit one person will be gone by September. Other than that, I’m over his bullshit. Depending on me to open the store, five days a week for two straight years but then not give me full time hours (I’m only 30 hours a week, most full time where I am is 40 hours and I am not aloud to go past 36 per week at this job) and no options for benefits??? The fuck? It’s bullshit. I’m scared he’s not gonna let me finish up once I give my two weeks bc he’s petty like that.

I’ve given my all to something that I can’t even love anymore bc it’s worn me down to the point where I cry coming home once a week or more. Am I dramatic?? Or is it really that bad? I look back at a year ago and even then I don’t remember it being as bad as it is now. I remember just needing a second job for the money, not bc I hated my job. Something has shifted in six months to make me just hate it so much. And yes, I am aware that everyone hates their job at some point, but like, I shouldn’t come home crying after work all the time.

Pls note, it isn’t simple as reporting my boss to HR… he’s the owner and manages every aspect of our store down to accounting lol. I have nobody to report him to.

Thank you for coming to my life story. Pls like, comment and subscribe and don’t forget to click that follow button.

(I’m sorry for that… I just had to make myself giggle after writing all this)

#rant #sorry for the rant

[feuqueerfire]

Midnight Motel Live Blogging

GMMTV really crammed some of my most anticipated 2022 shows to run at this time (Never Let Me Go, Midnight Motel, The Warp Effect), as well as My School President which I was keeping my eyes on. Think I’ll have to watch these the week they end or I’ll never catch up.

Playlist

Ep 1: Welcome to the Business (Jan 9 11)

1-1

ooh cool start

okay actually fuck idkkk maybe i’ll start this later? bc i’m in the middle of the Trials of Apollo series and also Never Let Me Go (ep 5 tmrw), which is 2 different stories already. maybe i’ll watch this on Wednesday and finish before next Tuesday so that i’m not weaving this and NLMG and trials of apollo.

aw the fact that Mote’s always out of luck and “missed the admission quota out of a top uni even though he passed the exam” sucks so fucking bad

oh Mond’s the pimp?

oh fuck Mond’s character is so scary D: I know people said so but rip

pls Mote standing and thinking of the shit possibilities of what could happen if he barges into Mond and Jan’s characters’ rooms 

Oh yeah I forgot that Mote and Kat are love interests right

Aw Kat T.T 

Kat’s so fun and funny

Sun’s making Kat pay her debts to him 

oh, interesting in a good way about Kat mentioning working so hard

1-2

oh it’s Kat’s mom’s debt that she’s paying off 

Sun kys

Mote researching the websites where customers and sellers buy-sell sex work and identifying the pain points to make their app is wholesome

pls Kat’s funny with tryna sell her services to Mote (+ his friend) and also they’re cute

pls Doy being like whyyyy tf did you bring this app to my doorstep again after we met the police and mafia last time

the dynamic between Doy and Kat not really believing Mote vs Mote being a sweet talker and knowing how to appeal to people

ooh a design for the app first this is just like my uni class

girl not pay by crypto 

does Sun have photos?!?! 

oh videos?!?!? is Kat and the client aware that these exist?!?!?!?! gross gross gross die die die

1-3

oof Mote and Kat are so cute. him being like “hmph, your pics on the app are catfishing for sure” and then when she elbows him, he exaggeratedly falls back ah >.<

yes Kat, come to Canada and we can kiss

Linguistics: Mote and Kat use gu-meung with each other. I think Kat and Sun also used gu-meung earlier, which surprised me a bit bc I expected Kat to use Khun w Sun or something but ig the rude pronouns make sense also

Kat saying she wouldn’t do this job if she could choose. the way they’ve been talking about sex work and prostitution is interesting in a casual way where’s a job that’s hard work and like Mote, she’s doing it bc of debt and wouldn’t do it otherwise. it’s not glamorized but the existence of it or sex workers aren’t made to be evil even though the situation sucks here

hope that Mote or Doy know what to do if things go wrong whether it be the guys are dicks like when Sun had to step in or if they refuse to give money or something

oh i see we’re getting to see them handle things like the short hair and wig, and now police are coming in. also i’ve just remembered that someone maybe dies

1-4

I don’t quite get the Big Boong thing. I know Mote pretended that Big Boong’s someone else, some big shot to make the police nervous and let it but who? why’d the cops leave?

wtf was that Kat being shot in the head scene? umm I’m hoping it’s just one of Mote’s fears and not something that comes to pass

I hope they all earn the money and pay off their debts ah

Ep 2: The Investor (Jan 12)

Ep 6 came out and I saw one person write that it’s a satisfying ending, so I’m glad

2-1

ooh they’re talking about how it’d be good if they could just legalize sex work but the police are gonna lose so much money from the bribes to leave prostitution alone that they won’t let it be legal

Mote and Kat are cute, aw

oof Mote and Kat are so non-flirtily flirty ma gudness

agh Kat’s mom was dead I thought but nope, she’s just letting her daughter pay back her loans and also coming for more money

oh noooo Kat’s flashback to how her mom disappeared from their home and so the guys who were looking for her came for Kat instead T.T

oh, this was the very first time Kat saw her mom since that incident? 

hmm Sun telling Kat’s mom to never see her again. I’d assume that Sun’s romantically interested in her in any other show but he treats her like crap, so maybe he just doesn’t want them to plan and run away or smth? 

wait Pom from Gifted, what are you doing here heh. Victor’s name is Pat here 

is Pat gonna be the man she kills? 

damn he really put a collar on her oh I hate this bc he seems so earnest and this could’ve been cute if Kat didn’t fucking hate it and Sun didn’t force here T.T 

2-2

damn, not us getting the backstory on why Pat wants to have power during sex because he has no power in his personal life

oh Pat’s a billionaire, possible investor? also, that unicorn ad thing kinda maybe reminds me of whatever investing ad Mote saw in ep 1 that made him make the other app or something

oh yeah, the camera in the room that Sun has so that he can fucking watch Kat and her clients agh but now catching Kat doing work that he hasn’t assigned her

ahhh that camera was hidden by Kat? it’s for blackmailing Pat?

i love the classical music choices and also Mote thinking of possibilities and them actually showing it as if it’s happening, like Kat getting shot in the head

2-3

“I just wanna tell your you’re definitely worth more than you think?” ah so cute

Mote really is just too good with words, Kat’s right that these sorts of people just aren’t trustworthy bc they know the right things to say “How am I going to trust you, you shard-tongued jerk of a CEO?”

oh Tawi/Jay looks really different when talking with Pat’s wife than when he’s tryna get money out of Mote. Are they different people?

who’s the person that Pat’s wife talked about? Is it Mote?

okay the guy who’s terrorizing Mote isn’t actually Tawi

ah this guy is so annoying either Mote gives him money to keep the business a secret and then can’t pay back his debt in time and gets the hotel taken away OR Mote doesn’t give him money and so he tells the police about the illegal prostitution

2-4

Sun is so fucking scary, threatening June with killing her son if she doesn’t tell him what she and Kat are doing aghhh

omg so stressful. on the one hand Sun’s tryna get Doy to get him into the app by pretending he’s a client, Kat’s with Pat who’s waiting for the pitch + she saw Sun in the lobby, and Mote’s fucking phone somehow fell under the bed

ahh cliffhanger ending rip

Ep 3: Ain’t Them Bodies Cents (Jan 12)

anyway, I know Pat dies for sure because someone on a discord sent a screenshot. that’s as expected bc i’ve barely seen him in gifs or anything

3-1

oof Doy fucked up and gave Sun the invitation and whole time Mote’s like yep I trust Doy to take care of it rip

pls the chaos of Doy talking to Sun and Mote presenting to Pat while Doy and Mote are also communicating via bluetooth

pls Mond is so scary as Sun. girl “I’m the owner of their breath” kalsdj okay

Mote is much smarter than Sean is all I can say lmfao he can lie p well, even though Sun has a suspicion that Mote’s lying

3-2

is Pat drunk or what? Why is he all woozy and falling? Did he take his medication too late or something? Did his wife drug his meds because there was a point made about him taking his med case before leaving

lmfao is Mote and Kat’s kiss gonna be interrupted by Pat dying

oh kinda. i thought we’d hear a gun shot sound but what happened? did he fall and hit his head and die since Pat was so off-balance?

so did Pat succeed in giving the money or no

lol the Kat butchering the body scene

3-3

pls the way Doy had to say he’s not sitting in the back w the corpse

is Sun at Kat’s home? oh fuck he’s throwing a fit

wait omg I kinda knew that Sun knew Kat when he was a child bc I’ve seen a caption bout smth like that with a clip of Sun sitting on that bench but I didn’t know she was close friends with him :0 that sucks so bad

ah shit so Sun wasn’t the one who brought her into sex work but someone else did and he was there and he seemed young

oh Sun’s terrible idk how he transformed into this hardened pimp quickly but then he said he’d pay off Kat’s debt if she transfers to his club

3-4

ofc Pat’s car has a GPS oof and ofc Pat’s wife’s cheating on him with Jay but we could guess that from last ep

not Sun waiting in room 211 with his suitcase of weapons 

so Pat did start the transaction of 20 million?

ooh Kat’s tryna get away to diff city but also she stole Pat’s phone. wonder if there’s tracking on that too 

Ep 4: Disappear Body (Jan 13)

4-1

Joy’s tryna get Kat to fess up or something bc of her threatened child, right?

k the current things at play is that Kat wants to access Pat’s crypto and leave for Canada, Joy wants to trick Kat possibly, Sun has come to find Kat and is threatening Mote, Jay is tracking Pat’s car and has been lead to the motel, also the debt collector mans that’s been bothering Mote wants his money as well for protection of Takkrub

oh Jay’s seeing Sun being weird with Mote in the hallway on the CCTV lmfao he can just walk in there all willy nilly. is the room Mote and Sun are in also viewable with cctv

lol I wonder if Jay will view Sun as the thread instead of Mote now and have his suspicion on him as a possible reason for Pat going missing? who knows. also i wanna know if Jay knows that Pat’s dead or not? has he searched the inside of the car? seems like no

4-2

bruv, Mote really got Sun, Jay, and the debt collector guy all in the same room wanting something from him gbye and gl “shit, this is like a fan meeting. Wait no they’re all after me.”

plsss the three of them all being like eyeee should be the one talking to Mote first, yall get out

pls the way Sun smiled and gestured and moved away as soon as the knife appeared

oh Jay killed the debt collector mans lmfao Mote’s gulping and now Jay has a gun

oh debt collected mans was called Big Off

lmfao Mote being like “he’s not my friend” and Jay being like “oh? he didn’t come to save you?”

pls it’s killing me the way Jay has to explain like “this is not an empty thread na krub. If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll kill both of you. Na?”

plssssss the arguments between Sun and Mote are so funny and Jay telling them to shut up each time like now Mote realizing Sun has a camera in Kat’s usual room

wait if the footage is there, why didn’t they show Pat falling and hitting his head agh

oh damn okay so the body wasn’t in the car even though that was the original plan. did Kat do something with it?

4-3

fuckk i’m so mad I had so many thoughts for parts 3 and 4 but it refreshed and all of it got deleted kms

I thought it was fun when in part 4 Mote started acting clever and threatening again after seeming to be bumbling and foolish in the first 3 parts. 

I liked the chips and card game fantasy scene. The crew in MDL seems fairly inexperienced but they’re doing well so far

Ep 5: Blast From The Past (Jan 14)

5-1

Sun how’d you turn out like this agh

byeee they dismembered Big Off

 neo appearance !

Police officer Jay sued an elite man who attacked a bus driver but the elite man got him fired?

sdlkfhj the neolouis sex noises

oof, Kat’s found out that Sun’s getting money from Kat’s mom, which is money that Kat earned from Sun

oh my fucking god, I need to kill Sun. I hope Kat kills Sun

Sun remembering Kat saving him from those guys and so finally kinda snapping out of (sexually, physically) assaulting her

5-2

this young kids Kat and Sun backstory is making me so fucking sad because they used to be friends

noooo the promise :< “when we grow up, we won’t become the kind of adults we hate”

Sun realizing he’s become the kind of adult he hated

pls Doy and texting is just aldskfj as soon as Jay gets the orders to kill/deal with the trio, he texts Mote’s phone (which Jay has currently and also doesn’t it have a password) that he can’t find it (the body) anywhere in the hotel lmfao. prev it was the thing with Sun coming while they were tryna show Pat the pitch

Kat’s a whole lot, she really is confessing? playing with Mote? in that bathroom and kissing him instead of admitting she ran away for a brief period and also stole the phone hoping for the crypto money

I wonder if Mote believes her after seeing her pretend with Pat bc I don’t think I believe her actions in that bathroom

5-3 and 5-4

Sun really tryna just make a deal with everyone huh? giving the bullet to Jay and saying to kill only Mote (also the ice cooler thing Jay’s getting the ice from is freaking me out bc at first I don’t think I registered that they hid him in the ice cooler but now that I know... hm is he in there). Telling Mote that he wants to invest in Takkrub

What did the uncle and aunt wanna tell Mote before Jay came in? Were they the ones who his the body? Like if it isn’t any of the captured trio, Doy was a possibility but then he didn’t show up for like 2 eps in the middle so I started thinking he’s less of a possibility? Or is he more of one because why did he also disappear for a bit? And it could also be uncle and aunt who someone calmly and quietly discovered and hit the body

pls I love the fantasy situations Mote goes through so much, like the convo with dead ghost Pat

naurrr flashing back to young Kat and Sun saying they’d protect each other as adult Kat tells Sun to get out of her life

oh Pat’s in the ice cooler the way they made it seem. so the one that they hit the body in had the :) sticker and then that got carted out and had more ice put in it and put out front and the new ice cooler that’s in the place of the old ice cooler doesn’t have that sticker

So would his uncle and aunt do that? The mover also deleted the CCTV footage, would they be able to do that? Doy was the one who deleted the previous CCTV footage, so would it be him? Why?

also Mote and Sun and stuff getting ice from the cooler while underneath was Pat’s body reminds me of To Sir, With Love where the maids were all having fun collecting that mushroom, whole time there’s Don’s dead body underneath

Ep 6: All Or Nothing (Jan 14)

6-1

So I guess it really was his aunt and uncle who moved the body

they let Sun walk out of the room?

6-2

did Sun take one pill and poison the fish? or what?

or is Sun stealing the meds pill box from Kat?

Sun you backstabbing bitch, him being like “we have our bullets for that” and whole time he doesn’t even have the bullet. he has me on edge fr bc I can’t tell if he’s just double-crossing Mote and Kat or double double-crossing Jay

lol the meds box is filled with stone, flashbacks to Squid Game Ep 6

oh so Sun did give Jay a defect bullet? but Jay told June to bring another gun my dudes

everyone’s got stuff under their sleeve, like Kat with Pat’s phone and Mote with the Takkrub upload of the evidence

also i don’t think their evidence is actually enough for much (like lol they themselves could’ve filled the box with poisoned pills afterwards to frame June) but I’m ignoring that

6-3

I don’t get the [A gift from Big Off] and “say hello to my little friend

oh Jay fr shot the uncle on the shoulder 

bruv, I was thinking of Jay falling off the roof maybe but I didn’t think they’d do it like that lmfao

the villains really do wait to shoot until the uncle’s there or until Sun’s covering Kat huh lmfao

oh Sun is so psychologically fucked. he really is like if I die then Kat dies with me

oh the friendship bracelets were from the promise of not becoming like the adults they hated

okayyy Kat didn’t know that Sun was the same kid as before. At first I thought she did but then it was like hm but yeah she’s asked him “Are you Arthit?”

please Mond’s doing so good as Sun. the way he’s like sorry for breaking my promise and handing back the bracelet and telling her live and be better for him as he lays there dying. It goes with his character arc that he dies here because he’s too irredeemable to continue with the gang or to continue inflicting pain with his pimping but because of his backstory and helping the gang thus far, he’s also not someone who we see as an one-note evil man anymore. too evil to not die but the audience doesn’t wanna see him go down in a horrifying grotesque way either

6-4

plssss Kat using Pat’s corpse for the face ID of his crypto wallet (the reason she came back p much)

girl shut up who is Yudo, we have Tony for Doy. actually Doy can be polyam, I’d like that. or a cheater, I’ll forgive that in preperation for Moonlight Chicken

Very pretty wrapped bow for the ending.

The last ep was good but not great, I don’t think they were super clever with their action or wrap-up, although it was still pretty fun. Also no like great twist in the final ep, which is fine but nothing about the final ep really makes it stand out. 

The acting was great, the script was comprehensible and well-paced, the production is good, featured sex work without villainizing the workers or the work itself. I loved Mote’s little fantasies of possible scenarios or of imagining an interaction in a different way (the card game with June, convo with dead Pat). I’m impressed by the creative team behind it. 

I won’t think about this much after today I don’t think but I liked this little show.

Rating: 6.5/10

Mock Trailer

The actual show ended up being pretty much the same as that mock trailer, guess they’ve had the script done for a while. It was snappy but gave away a lot, so I’m glad I hadn’t watched most of it before watching the show (or if I had, it must’ve been like 10 months ago and I completely forgot it because only the first like 15 seconds seemed familiar and I knew the concept before going in).

Official Trailer

Once again, reveals a lot but is slightly better created than the OG, which is expected.

#ep by ep commentary #midnight motel

[leejungchans]

Sol Sol! I run here 🧎🏻 I’m super shy but I saw you share some svt dreams awhile ago so I wanted to share too if it’s ok 😭 bc it’s been in my mind for a week or so now and I dunno who to share it with 👉🏻👈🏻 so I hope it’s ok to share some svt thoughts with you (also I saw some of the svt thought asks and they seem so fun 😭 bad boy!Jeonghan abt to leave me in shambles!!) — also this a long ask pls forgive me 😭

so like this dream is 1 out of 4 svt dreams I had in one day, let’s just say I took too many naps and dreamt of them each time my head hits the pillow 🤡

in this dream I was classmates with all of them (though it was like— svt and I were all in the same year or we all took the same art/PE hybrid elective class) but they’re still idols just not as well known globally, like you have fans screaming crying and stopping them from moving 2 feet from the door. they’re like your cool popular classmates who are known as a group who makes really cool songs 💕 anyways, we went on a class trip with other classes who had the same teacher for that hybrid elective to check out this art meets playhouse museum and my twin loves them lots so she was like ‘ :O why u no tell me ur classmates?!?! get me their autograph?’ so it became a mission to like introduce her to them 😂

anyways, the fun part was when we bump into Joshua bc everyone kind of separated into their own cliques and I was kinda sad I couldn’t get a moment with Seokmin, Mingyu, and Seungkwan 😭 I’d often pass by them but they always seemed busy. we took a break at the concession stand that was selling popcorn and managed to find Joshua there (he was with Cheol and Jeonghan 😂 but they were busy buying popcorn)

and lmaooo my Shua loving heart couldn’t take it! bc we’re pretty friendly like between him and the rest of svt, we’re actually friends. not close but like close enough to be casual like heyooo dude wassup? the clouds! kinda deal 😂 so I called him over so introduce my twin bc she’s a carat and he was so sweet then I said in tiny ‘I’m a big fan too 😭😭😭 you’re my bias!’ and he was like 👀👀👀

then he teased me about it he was laughing bc he didn’t know I was a carat 😭 then he said he found it adorable but I was like ‘hmmmph! 👹 nvm bc you teased me!’ so he hugged me and was like ‘lmaoo sorry sorry! I won’t tease you again!’ idk what happened but I started to cry and sob into his shirt bc I was moved by his kindness idk and he cried also but in like a lowkey teasing/‘will cry with you so you won’t feel awkward or embarrassed’ kind of crying😭 then I woke up before anything else could happen 🤡

and that’s the end of my dream episode 💕 idk how I got lucky with having a Shua dream but he was just as sweet!

— chia 💕

hi chia 💗💗 of course it’s okay to share :’)))) sebong dreams and thoughts are always welcome hehe 🫶🏻

okay but this is such a cute dream?????? field trip with student-idols!svt??????????? 🤧🤧🤧 they’re so cute BWHSBAJSN not cheolhan being more occupied with buying popcorn though tbh that’s me on field trips too so i don’t blame them 😭 but joshua is soooo sweet here the way he hugged you and kinda teased you by saying he’ll cry with you is so joshua 😭😭😭 an affectionate tease that also wants to make you feel better :’))))))

#badboy!jeonghan 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ #chia 🐏💕 #dalkyeom #moots <3 #sol answers

[good4olivia]

Olivia has a sour patch kid box!!!

#pls the way i know they won’t sell them here #olivia rodrigo

[cinnamonest]

OMG I WAITED MONTHS TO SEND YOU AN ASK I LOVE YOUR BLOG 💕🛐🛐 an anon mentioned like an end of the world scenario where women were a very very scarce percentage of the population and I really wanted you to expand on that 😭🙏 there could be a girl dressed as a boy who joins a camp full of men (Childe + Scara the fatui) but they figure out her disguise pretty quickly— or another lone traveller like Xiao, Razor, Albedo, Kazuha or Diluc snatches her up on the road like a precious treasure. Maybe women sell for a lot or they are just like 😳 free wife. Diluc especially thinks you won’t survive out here on your own so you should be grateful he “saved” you :)

YESSSSS I love that concept!! I mentioned Fallout there but I'm sticking to a more general idea here... although one day I should make HCs for an actual Fallout AU

Also I went way overboard with this pls enjoy my fellow sexism kink degens

//obvious heavily gendered themes, not just like misogyny (although there's a lot) but also some generalizations about gender both ways for the sake of the scenario.

//Mentions of things like feminine body shapes/voices/hips/breasts, physical strength differences, and other physical markers/indicators as determiners of sex! Please make note of that as I know this can be really uncomfortable for some! Also general fetishization of sexual dimorphism (physical/behavioral differences between binary sexes)!

//also human trafficking, slavery, all the good stuff

But yes SEXIST WORLDBUILDING?? My favorite it's been a while since I got to do this bless

I actually watched a video on something like this once if the sexes experienced like a major population imbalance of like 5-10% : 90-95%... it mentioned that like, given the obvious physical strength difference, disposition tendencies, AND simply being so outnumbered, it might not be such a bad deal for the dudes -- they could likely retain power and essentially market themselves very little violent altercations, not so much violent competition either.

The girls in the alternate universe would be... a lot less fortunate. Not to mention, things would get a lot more violent thanks to the power of Testosterone™. Ultimately, they're sold as sort of a resource, like a luxury good, or an expensive pet. And, of course, reduced to property status. If we're going with the idea that girls simply have a very low birth ratio (as in like only 1 out of 10 births are girls), a lot of times families, especially non-elites, would try to hide them to prevent anything bad from happening, which would inevitably lead to some form of legislation or mandate that they have to be surrendered to higher powers, both for their own safety and the stability and wellbeing of the population as a whole. So that they can be properly utilized, of course.

You would have things like markets, both officially and licensed and underground. The former is more elite -- you have to be licensed to sell, have to have permits and paperwork and all that, and it would inevitably become one of those things that elite circles manage to exclude others from by ensuring only people within their upper circles can buy or sell. The latter is thus created, sort of black markets, which exist to be able to sell them at cheaper prices to people who otherwise couldn't afford them, this way small-time traffickers that manage to get their hands on a few can still make a good deal of money. You can choose by a wide variety of things, such as background, body shape, disposition, etc. It's a better fate, most say, to end up sold to one person, so long as they're not awful. At least it's better than ending up one of the unfortunate ones that ends up public property, either in government-sanctioned brothels or set to operate glory holes for the general public to fill men's needs. To keep society running, you know.

And on that note for most guys, just getting their dick wet ever is a dream they know they'll likely never obtain, or one they have to pay just to obtain for a precious few minutes depending on the legality of brothels in their nation. Actual private sessions cost way more than glory holes, but even then, it's not like the girl will remember his face or care about him in any way, and they're way too busy to allow any after-time -- as soon as you cum, you gotta be out the door so the next one can come in. Sure, some establishments offer sessions where you can actually have a full night with them, talk to them, have some vague imitation of intimacy, but the prices are astronomical. It's not realistically obtainable. And sex is one thing, but to actually get to impregnate a girl is even more unimaginable. So while options exist, it's just not... fulfilling.

The desperation of the situation is what makes everything so much more tense and dangerous -- every bastard wants some for himself, so protectiveness is through the roof for the guys fortunate enough to have wives. A lot more men out there are willing to risk the consequences just to get a spare crumb, and much more brutal about the extents to entrap a girl, should a very lucky bastard manage to find one unprotected out in the world.

But this also increases cheating paranoias as well, which in and of itself is a mate guarding practice. There's so many men out there and so few of you, so every man becomes much more suspicious of any behaviors, since you have so many more men that would have all their attention directed towards you at a given moment. They have to ensure you have no opportunities to cheat, trust isn't enough anymore, they have to ensure you can't even if you wanted to. Even boys who would have already been highly possessive and jealous become even more so. Also the whole concept of war trophies becomes an even bigger deal than it ever was, too. In any sort of wartime (which occurs more often given individual unresolved frustrations), there's much motivation and incentive for it. I mean, instead of paying years' worth of money for a wife you can go get one, just walk right into an enemy village or something and kinda pick one up and go (I mean, it's not that easy when they're kicking and screaming, but you get the jist).

------------

Now... as for our boys, well we have obvious candidates for little rich boys that would get their own little slavewife. Xingqiu's family buys him one for a birthday, it's sort of a tradition, that's how his mom came along too. Officially, of course, a real licensed auction. His dad lets him pick one out, he bribes them at the door to let him browse a bit so he has a good idea of which one he wants before auctioning even starts. His eyes meet yours, in that tiny little crate they shove each of you into, and he smiles. You try to smile back, twitching a bit -- he's young and cute, and you know the alternative is being sold to some gross rich old man, so you might as well shoot for the best you can get. He only gets to talk to you a little bit, asking you questions that you try to give answers to that you think he'd like, try to make yourself sound cute, and he promises he'll get you -- pats you on the head through the bars. He's been around females a little bit, such as his mom of course, his brother has a wife too, and having grown up in rich circles, he's seen more wives than the average young man, although they're always quiet and clinging to their masters, are generally told to look at the ground if they're going out, and really are more often than not kept inside, away from where someone might see them and want to steal them. Still, considering the average young man doesn't even see a human female except their own mother (who of course stays locked inside all the time), that makes him more used to the presence than most young boys.

His dad does end up haggling for you, some other dude keeps trying to outbid him, but he would only have the best for his son, you know? So in the end he pays a larger sum than expected, but it's worth it, he thinks. Thankfully, they took two separate carriages, that way he can leave the two of you alone on your own, he knows his son isn't patient enough to wait all the way until you're home to at least play around a little bit.

------------

Mondstadt has similar markets, but thankfully some places allow you to just pay up-front without any back-and-forth bids. Crepus would definitely seek that sort of establishment out, it's much favorable to bidding. He knows his son well enough to pick one out for him, though. It's a very awkward ride back, he doesn't take the ties off your wrists just yet, lays out the house rules and your responsibilities and all that.

Unfortunately, given the aforementioned desperation of the average man, the house staff present a bit of a problem, Diluc doesn't want any of them getting any ideas about laying hands on you. Thus, whenever he can't be around you himself, you're given one or two servants to accompany you at all times... eunuchs, of course, which is a thing society has returned to having solely for the purpose of being guards. You have absolutely no privacy. You're taught the very strict rules from day 1 about how you can't talk to anyone who isn't him, too.

Alternatively, yes he absolutely would be one to find a stray or a runaway to fulfill a savior complex. You poor, poor thing. Some bastards out there are so ungrateful for the rare gift that is having a wife, mistreat and abuse them, surely this is the background you come from. You don't hate being owned by a man in general, even if that's what you say, you're just lashing out because you're traumatized and used to being treated poorly, you need to get used to having a good master. Of course, he still needs to know exactly what the past ones were like. In detail, along with how many masters you've had, if you were ever public property of any kind... usually, ones who have ever served as public property are treated as being unfit to be wives (too addicted to cock and all that), but he is kind and understanding, not like the others. Still, he wants to know... he becomes much more paranoid of you searching for alternative sources of sex when he's gone, no matter what you tell him. Maybe it's best to keep you locked in a room by yourself when he's busy.

------------

But of course, there are some that try to flee, often by attempting to disguise themselves. This is a challenge, considering feminine boys are already often rounded up and sold like girls too (desperate times desperate measures, you know how it is), but if people see you walking around they might just assume you narrowly passed the test. Not that it all won't go to hell the moment you get found out, of course. When legislating these matters, they thought of all sorts of possible scenarios, and so those who manage to evade subjugation and are caught doing so are treated with a "finders keepers" sort of policy.

Thus, should you try to evade and live life in disguise, you are accepting the potential consequences of that. Joining an organization of any kind, especially one like the Fatui or the Knights of Favonius, is beyond "playing with fire," it's practically playing with a lit stick of dynamite. Among lower ranks, you tend to operate in group formations -- meaning group showers, changing rooms, and the like. You have to try your best to sneak off when changing, or come after dark to shower. You find yourself falling behind in training, unable to perform the same physical feats to the same degree as even the scrawnier dudes...

The Knights handle it somewhat well. The Captain is good at motivating people, tries to help you with your burdens, hoping you just need to bulk up a bit. He tries to get close... a little too close... maybe starts noticing a few things that are off. Sometimes when you speak, he kinda furrows his eyebrows at your voice, he seems to sometimes scan your body up and down in confusion when you notice your posture is a little too feminine, and quickly correct it. At one point, your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when he put his hands on your sides, ran them over your hips, and laughed, making a comment about how you have girly hips. Well, based on the interactions he's had, which isn't too many, he didn't really have a mother growing up or anything.

He's a perceptive man. He gets it, eventually, although at first he's so shocked he thinks he's imagining things, there's no way, right? Once he becomes certain, he wastes no time calling you in for a private meeting, you know something's wrong when he locks the door and stands between you and it. Still, he goes about calmly exposing you, but chastising you for being so dumb. Don't you realize the kind of danger you were in? Tsk tsk, so naive, thinking you could go on like that forever, you're lucky he's intent on saving you from a much worse fate. He realizes you're probably reluctant to be owned, since you were clearly avoiding it to begin with, but he's convinced that you just have the wrong impression of it. You'll love it, you'll be happier, because he'll be good to you. You'll see. Now, you just have to come over here, let him get your thumbprint stamp (even if he has to hold you down kicking and screaming) so he can sign over the legal ownership forms.

------------

The Fatui have their own means of handling the imbalance, though, managing to keep troops from so much sexual frustration that they get into fights or just kill each other. They keep their own group slaves, with one girl assigned to a unit to serve all the men's needs and keep them happy. It's a really effective system! The ratio depends on your ranking. The lowest of grunts usually have to share a slave with 30 or so others, higher rankings share a girl with maybe 10 others. Of course, it only makes sense, then, that harbingers get one to themselves. It's a special mark of their status.

The only catch is that they have to go get one. They don't get assigned one or have it handed to them. It's kinda considered a mark of their competency/qualification to be able to get one within a certain amount of time after being appointed. Be that stealing one during an unpleasant 'housecall' (read: hit) to some rich old bastard's house, fucking her in front of him before slinging the poor thing over his shoulder to leave, or finding one hiding out somewhere, or... finding one hiding in plain sight.

Childe would really get a kick out of sniffing out some stupidly brave little thing, thought she could disguise herself as a regular Fatui soldier... he's perceptive enough to notice how you lag behind in terms of athletic performance, picks up on even the slightest indicators in voice, facial structure, posture, etc. He doesn't immediately lunge in, though, he likes to psychologically torture the poor thing. Drops little hints, makes comments about how "y'know, you have girly (insert trait)" or pointing out how sometimes there's something off about you, watches the blood drain from your face and how you stiffen before laughing it off and pretending it was nothing. All up to a certain point, before he goes out of his way to arrange and set up an "accident" of some kind. "Oh, what's this...?" He says something to the effect of who would have thought, but the mocking tone makes it rather obvious he guessed pretty early on. Rather brave of you, really... every day you undoubtedly walked right by those poor communal fucktoys, knowing you could have just as easily been in their place with just one wrong move. But don't worry... you must have had it rough, but now you can rest easy, not having to bear the hardships of being property to multiple people, nor having to try and push yourself past your physical limits, but instead being able to relax and spend the rest of your life in luxury as a little lap-toy to breed.

------------

Scaramouche is a little more immediate, though, and it's a genuine accident. He thinks himself too good for such needs, or so he says... Really he just hasn't had the opportunity yet, so he leaps onto the first chance he gets. Stumbles into one on the road who was looking at the ground and runs into him, all wide eyed and tries to run the moment she lays eyes on him. You're evading international law, huh. Well, the Fatui isn't exactly law enforcement, but... He can think of it as fulfilling his title and finally having some status. He's slow, doesn't run after you, just manages to hunt you down once you finally think you're safe and try to sleep while hiding.

He reminds you what should happen to runaways -- they should be returned to their proper owners and given the punishing they deserve, which, by the way, he makes sure you know if you ever even think about running from him, he'll make sure to give you one you'll remember for the rest of your life. So you should be grateful that instead, you're being given a much better life than what you could have possibly had before, given that he's such a kind master that you will undoubtedly soon understand is better than anything you've ever had before. Provided you keep your manners and know when to bow your head and say yes sir. If necessary, though, you can be taught.

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Kazuha also randomly encounters one on the road, one of the girls trying to hide by staying in the wilderness -- at a distance out by a wilderness path, poor girl thought no one was around and decided to bathe in the river. He's shocked at first, blinks and wipes his eyes to be sure he's seeing correctly, but is instantly hard when he makes out the shape and parts -- he's seen girls before, but never naked ones up close. Hormones override any empathy he might have had.

He knows you don't want to be owned but... It's only the natural order, right? That's what all boys across Teyvat are taught from the time they're young, it's ingrained in his mind. Besides, he's nice, so, she'll like him when she gets used to him, he thinks.

He's so sweet though, for real. Much like Diluc, if it's a runaway, he thinks surely you just had bad owners. Or maybe were public property, how cruel, he understands that must be so hard. He'll be good to you, he promises! He'll keep you safe from the others that would harm you, with time you'll understand he's one of the good ones, even if he has to keep you by his side with force at first.

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Mondstadt offers a special option, being a place of "freedom" and all that, for young girls, should they request it... if you don't want to end up a wife or a breeder or risk becoming public property, you can become a nun. It's limited spaces, first come first serve, only a few dozen spaces available to the luckiest trying to avoid spending the rest of their lives getting their holes wrecked on a daily if not hourly basis.

How did it ever come to be? Who knows, especially given that the archon disapproves of that system. That's what he gets for giving the land the reputation of freedom, sigh. Venti laments such a thing, it really is such a waste that such perfectly breedable girls go their whole lives sexless, and he doesn't even get any benefit, despite it being dedicated to worshipping him. How can he allow such an atrocity to go on? Well, simple, he doesn't. All it would take is one quick 'divine descension' and an appearance in godly form to relay the very important message that Barbatos wants a sacrifice -- no no not like kill someone, he just wants his pick of those cute nuns! After all they are supposed to devote their lives to him right?? Obviously it is a priority. Sure like 90% of the Mondstadt population will never know the touch of a female but obviously that shouldn't apply to the archon right? So he can just have one, y'know, to set a hopeful example for people to live up to.

But hey, it's great really. You get godhood status and become sort of a goddess of legend. Even statues of you and folk songs about you. Not for any accomplishments or anything, but being the model example of wifeliness, one that just accepted the honor of being chosen by a god and acted in complete subservience (even if that's not exactly what you did, that's what gets recorded anyway).

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And speaking of gods, some just... demand it. Morax was certainly that way, back in his day. I mean, obviously he deserves it, gets to take the one unfortunate enough to be chosen by the people as a sort of sacrifice. He expects you to have already been properly trained in the customs of being a spouse in this universe's Liyue culture, but even if you don't know how to properly greet him and address him, keep your posture, hide your face in front of others, and all that, he just sighs. Well, he should have expected they wouldn't do it properly, so he'll have to do it himself... Can't have the wife of a god behaving in any other way than complete obedience. Gods forbid they sacrificed a defiant little thing... That's what happens, he supposes, when there's so few of you, you become spoiled and think just because you're valuable and coveted means you can behave as you wish... An attitude he'll have to get rid of, one way or another.

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Xiao already doesn't interact much with or see a lot of women even in a normal setting, so it's made a lot worse when they're very rare. He knows even less, and he certainly wouldn't have the experience of living at an inn owned by a woman (poor Verr is just like all the other wives, nice and tucked away out of sight). Occasionally, incoming inn guests will bring wives with them, usually wealthy and heavily-guarded, but he can catch a glimpse here or there... he ends up only seeing one really close by pure coincidence. A random human on the road at night being attacked by something... even right at the start he's a bit caught off-guard by the high pitch of the screams, how unusual. And usually humans are so grateful after being saved, but this one is hiding their face with their arms or a hood over their head and bowing their head in thanks... you're just trying to run off as quickly as possible before he notices anything... even he isn't that dense, though, grabs you by the wrist before you can bolt away. So weak, it barely feels like anything even though you look like you're pulling back with all your might.

It's not as if he can just let you go (which was, of course, your primary reason for trying to bolt), but you quickly begin to question if you were better off wherever you were before, having run away from one situation only to end up in another, since he quickly seems intent on keeping you. It's... awkward, even in a slightly cute way, were you not terrified. At least he seems considerate enough to inform you -- most captors, in your experience, just kinda assume you're smart enough to understand, but he feels the need to announce that he's come to the realization that you're female and that you need to not fight back, just come with him. He also makes sure to tell you that he's not taking you to the Millelith or back to your old owner, and instead, being smart as he is, thinks it's instead the best idea to tell you exact what he has in mind. So stop squirming so much, why are you still squirming even though he clearly told you he's just going to lock you away with him forever where you'll be safe? Hmph. No wonder the human men put these things on leashes. Truly, these creatures as just as complicated and difficult to understand as he's heard it said.

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However, Razor doesn't really grasp the whole imbalance thing. Wolves have a perfectly even ratio as always. He's heard humans tell him before that the females are rarer, but doesn't really get why that's a big deal. All that means is the strong ones get to reproduce, just like wolves. He does worry a bit that it might be hard to find one, though.

So when he finds some poor girl in hiding in the middle of the woods, he doesn't actually act mesmerized or in shock... just pleased. He has gone a while and never seen one, so he was beginning to wonder if he ever would. He is, however, smart enough to realize that he can't just let this opportunity go. But there are problems. One, he's not very good at tying knots. Two, what if humans come and find his mate and take her away? Both of these present issues, but luckily he has a friend with some insight. He also realizes that Bennett will probably want to share... hmph, well, he can do that if it's for a good friend.

Poor Bennett, normally so morally upstanding, but in this universe the poor thing is a bit more desperate, so he's willing to... maybe do some not so great things... people notice he makes a lot more trips to the woods now. He apologizes all the time when he fucks you, constantly asks if the ropes are too tight or if you need anything, even convinces Razor to let you stay with him every now and then in a nice, real bed. The transports are hard, he has to kinda cover you up and bring you into Mondstadt through the side entrances to the city and hope to not be seen taking you back to his place. It's a nice change from the woods, although you have to go back in a few days to being stuck in caves all the time.

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So, it's hard to find females, right? Not a lot of them naturally exist, so, if you can't find one... make one. That's the strategy Albedo ends up taking. Rhinedottir made him (and then promptly fucked off after realizing making a male creation in this universe was probably not the best idea, Albedo gets abandoned in every universe sigh), so he decides he can make a humanoid too. Just with some... specifications. Biologically programmed to be unable to speak to anyone but himself, and to be afraid of others, so that way she'll only love him. It's a flawless plan, really. Except, of course, he decides that for the general purpose of keeping her to himself, and ah, ethical concerns the Knights may have (or rather, fear that they'd demand he make one for all of them too), he tries to keep her existence hidden. Doesn't last forever, of course, unfortunately he's pressured into making at least a few more for some higher-ranks.

Some people implore him to start a business off of it -- he could make a fortune making synthetic girls for poor lonely bastards -- but he refuses, after all, how could he ever keep up with the demand of such a market? That would give him so much less time to spend with his own little customized wifey! That would be unthinkable. So, no, he's content with just keeping his own, sweet little thing he tailored to be nice and sweet and obedient, to keep with him day in and day out.

#i actually loaded up fallout 4 for an hour or so after making that thing the other day bc i missed it #eventually ill ramble on about fallout AU #.miso #reminder thats the new tag #lena's asks #scheduled post #.mmau