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#we talked about how. like. when they turn into humans- they really like to hold hands a lot! reminds em of coupling!!💖❤❤💞
anantaru ¡ 1 day
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡
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you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.
your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.
you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.
well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.
so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.
men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.
snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "
your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.
you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"
you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"
in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.
despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.
being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.
what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.
a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.
he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.
you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.
all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"
"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"
ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.
memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.
"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"
you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.
you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.
yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.
he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.
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rich boy aventurine masterlist
Š2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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sardonic-the-writer ¡ 2 days
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞'𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: luther, klaus, and number five
↳ warnings: canon type threats from five
↳ notes: written so both ftm, mtf, or gn folks can read it. basically was just be being really self indulgent. enjoy
↳ song: dancin - krono remix—aaron smith
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫
• We all saw how he reacted to Viktor’s coming out in season three. The human equivalent of ‘he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.’
• This time, he’s got a bit more experience understanding these things than the first time around. Might still ask Viktor a few things if he’s too embarrassed to question you directly, to which he is reminded that Viktor doesn’t speak for every trans person
• He eventually just ends up asking you what he wanted to know with a considerably more nervous tone
• Coming out party when?? Convinced that this guy just wants to have a party before the world ends at this point. Won’t have one if you’re not comfortable with it just like his brother, but he’d be so pumped if you did
• You’d think that walking around hand in hand with a big guy like Luther would stop people from yelling stuff at you, but you’d be surprised. In any case, he always makes sure to defend your honor, even if you don’t need it. He’s chivalrous like that
• Luther would be able to relate with any body dysmorphia you have on some sort of level—and in turn knows ways to combat it. It wasn’t easy to nearly die and wake up to the upper body of a monkey, so he had to adapt somehow, both mentally and physically
𝐊𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬
• Oh, he’s so happy that you feel comfortable around him
• Klaus has always experimented with his gender and sexuality, never sweating the small stuff, so finding someone that he can share his experiences with on more than just a friendly level really excites him
• No matter what time period the two of you end up in, Klaus is always supportive of you, even if it gets him in some hot water with the locals and their opinions (i.e, your time spent in the sixties.)
• Probably steals your hormone boosters if you ever run out of them. Or buys them off a dealer or two. You don’t take drugs for so long without knowing a few people
• Please let him do your hair. Whether you’re looking to lengthen it or shorten it, or even just dye the thing, Klaus will clamor at the opportunity to play hairdresser. Only if you promise to do his own in return, of course
• “Fabulous! You look amazing!” He croons one day, pretending to swoon at the sight of you. Or maybe it was authentic. You could never tell with him. Either way it made you fight the urge to crack a smile
• “Klaus you literally just brushed my hair.” You snort
• “My point still stands. Fabulous I say!”
• In a similar note to that, Klaus would let you rummage through his closet for any sort of spare clothes or fashion inspiration if you run out of outfits/ideas for how to dress. He’s got a wide array of strange garments anyways; from multicolored skirts and dresses, to suits with sequins and eye catching patterns
• Be warned. He will want to matching couples outfits. And they will be atrocious
• On any of your bad days, Klaus makes sure to remind you of how brilliant you are. Most times he just describes you how he sees you through his eyes in an attempt to cheer you up, but sometimes he’ll simply slot himself next to you and hold you until you’re ready to talk about it
• For someone that’s infamous for not being able to stand silence, Klaus sure knows how to utilize it
𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞
• Contrary to popular belief, Five does actually give two shits about you—and then some. You are his partner after all (How you managed that no one’s quite sure. The running theory between Diego and Allison is that he’s holding you hostage or blackmailing you somehow)
• His love for you means that he’s more than willing to try and understand your point of view on both the world and yourself. When he’s not trying to stop the apocalypse from ending the world and everyone in it, of course
• Often times brings Delores into the serious conversations you’ll have, claiming that out of the two of them she’s better at understanding these things
• Would burn down a building for you, and probably has already, so when you get misgendered or scrutinized Five won’t hesitate to threaten the person bothering you
• “Unless you have an aversion to keeping both of your eyes in their sockets, I suggest you back away from them.” He had hissed at a passerby on the street one day, clenching his fist with a deadly smile. And while he might not look threatening enough with his smaller frame in school boy shorts, the look in Five’s eyes had the other person scrambling away without a retort
• “Thanks.” You chuckle breathily at him after, shaking your head. “You don’t always have to do that, you know. Scare those guys off.”
• “Yeah, well, Lila would kill me if I didn’t. You’re one of the only people she actually likes.” Five rolls his eyes, doing a poor job at concealing the red tips of his ears. But you got the message
• “Sure thing Fivey.” You knocked his shoulder against your own, and held your hands up with a laugh when he sent a scathing glare your way
• He’s not the best at saying that he loves you, and that means everything about you, but he sure does try in his own little fucked up way
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tigergendermoved ¡ 6 months
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All the art and fics of Deltarune where Kris and Susie are like fuckin soulbonded together are wonderful and my favorite but I think they're a lot funnier when you think about the fact that they've been friends for less than 24 hours
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books-and-omens ¡ 8 months
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Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.
Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 
As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.
And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.
Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.
And just—
Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.
But the ball is still different.
We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)
I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?
In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).
And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 
In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.
There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.
GOD the ball is so dark.
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ms-demeanor ¡ 5 months
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Why reblog machine-generated art?
When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.
When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.
When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.
When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.
You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.
And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.
My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.
People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.
I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?
The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.
I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.
However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.
Also because it's just patently untrue.
But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.
It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.
I liked it.
I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.
Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)
Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?
My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.
What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.
And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).
There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.
I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.
Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.
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inkdrinkerworld ¡ 8 days
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post!prison Spencer realizing you’re not always sunshiny and happy when one day he spots you crying in the hall before wiping your eyes and walking into the bullpen with your usual megawatt smile like you hadn’t been balling your eyes out five minutes before
It’s a call with your brother that really gets you started.
Spencer watches you take the phone call that starts off pleasant, you’re all smiles and then you frown, dark and full of an anger Spencer hasn’t ever seen on you.
He knows humans are capable of all emotional spectrums but it’s so foreign on your face and in your body language that he’s shocked a little still.
You walk to a secluded part of the office, hushed, rushed, heated words that Spencer feels horrible for straining his ear to listen to but it’s a strange sight.
He’s never seen you like this.
“How is that my fault? I can’t drop everything and take a plane over there every time shit hits the fan. They’re big kids now.”
What’s worse is your voice cracks and he wants desperately to rush to you, comfort you but he forces himself to stay where he is.
He strains his ear and hears you whisper,
“I’m not doing this again. I can’t be that person anymore. They’re 20, I can’t move back home just to baby them again. I’m not going to be walked all over by them anymore.”
You’re not together, you’re just friends- not super close but closer than anyone else on the team. Spencer feels like he should be comforting you when he moves to the kitchen and watches the first tear tumble down your cheek.
“Hey have you seen, Y/N?” Emily asks and Spencer turns his body to block you from view.
“She went to the bathroom, do we have a case?” He asks, stirring a pound of sugar into his coffee.
“Yeah, when she comes out tell her meet us at the jet.” She hands off a file to him and Spencer glances through the pages quickly.
Spencer watches you compose yourself, swiping at your face, fixing your hair and rolling your shoulders back.
Then he watches almost sadly, as you plaster a smile back on your face.
“Hey, Spence. Where’s everybody?” You open the fridge like you usually do and reach for the canister of whipped cream you keep tucked away.
“We have a case,” Spencer watches you shake it and spray some into your palm, connecting the dots over the many times he’s seen you do that in the last couple of months.
You’d always said it was just a, ‘pick me up’ and Spencer hadn’t thought twice about. You all have little things you do to keep you going in the job, but he realises now it’s less to do with work and more to do with your upset.
“Oh shit,” you spray another heap of cream in your palm. “I’ll get my go bag, can you fill me in while we walk, Spence?” You’re already turning to your desk, fiddling about the last draw for your go bag.
Your eyes are still a little red, and he watches you switch your contacts for glasses as soon as you get hold of the bag. “They burn a little right now,” you supply when you catch him looking and he nods like he doesn’t know the truth.
“Alright, let’s go,” he opens the case file Emily handed to him and starts, “So the unsub seems to be a woman hater? I’m not sure how no one figured him out before this is his sixth victim.”
You frown as you tuck your go-bag over your shoulder, “And the geography is all the same? No crossing state lines?”
Spencer admires how easily you slip back into work mode, but as soon as the case is over he needs to find a way to have you talk to him.
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jyoongim ¡ 2 months
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Hey I love your work so much! Could you please write about alastor with a wife who’s just like Jessica rabbit and ended up in heaven because she didn’t know about him killing but came down to visit him after meeting Charlie when she went up there. I just think I’d be wild for someone like Al to have a wife like that
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AAAAOOOOGGGGAAAAA!!!! I could have written this in soooo many ways but i think its a bit like one i already wrote but I hope you enjoy nevertheless!!! @alientee
I highly recommend you listen to The Night We Met, Copacabana, and Why don’t You Do Right!!!! That’s what I envisioned for this one request!!!!
The meeting between the Princess of Hell and the Angelic council was a mess.
The Princess had a look of defeat, so you took it upon yourself to let her show you her hotel.
You prompted that you will be the one to go down and see if it were possible that demons could be redeemed.
I mean everyone deserves a second chance right?
You were talk even the worst sinner still possessed some sort of decency.
So you followed the Princess to her hotel to show you around.
Charlie was elated that you didn’t think her dream was just some fluck.
She asked you all sorts of questions. How you ended up in heaven and how was your life before you died.
”Believe it or not I was a singer at a gentlemen’s lounge. Oh darlin you should have seen me in my prime! Jazz, booze, and oh I had the sweetest husband.”
Charlie was shocked. I mean, yes you were breathtaking, but you really didn’t seem like the type to be tied down to some guy.
You giggled at her expression.  It was often the look men gave you when you refused their advances, happily boasting you were a taken woman and not some hussy that could warm their beds.
”Oh you’ll really find that the hotel has character. Our hotel manager might be a little…hmmm creepy but don’t pay him any mind” she said opening the door to the hotel to lead you through the lobby.
And character it did.
The interior was old-fashion but it had charm. A bit masculine for a young woman to run it,  but if the manager was a man, you could see why it looked the way it did.
You took a seat on a couch and waited as Charlie went to gather the residents so you would meet them.
You were slightly nervous. You were in Hell and hadn’t the slightest clue what demons even looked like.
You fiddled with your ring, how you wished to see your husband.
”Everyone we have a special guest so pleeeeaasssee be on your best behavior” you heard Charlie say.
You caught sight of a gnarly bar and the bartender, you smiled
”shot of whiskey on the rock love” Husker turned around and his eyes widened, yours did too “Why i never thought…Husker?!” You squealed happily, lunging across the bar to hug the demon. He smiled and patted your back, pulling away “Husker what ya doing down here?” He gave you a deadpan look, making you laugh. You then thought about it..
If Husker was down here then that…
”Charlie you should have said such beauty in our circle i would have cleaned up a lot better” a voice purred, making your head turn.
A tall spider smiled at you, giving you a flirtatious wink, which you sent back with a wave.
A little cyclone, a snake, and a seemingly human woman entered the room.
Charlie smiled “This lovely angel has decided to have a look around to prove Heaven wrong”
You introduced yourself.
”Now i know you’re not here long so Ill give you a quick-”
Charlie was interrupted by a radio-like voice.
”Don’t tell me you’re going to give a tour without me Charlie? You know we work as a team-” his words trailed off as he caught sight of you.
You stood, a happy smile on your face “Alastor baby!” You practically ran into his arms.
”Ain’t no way…”
”Noooo”
”oh welll that do make ssssennssseee”
”Pretty lady!”
everyone watched in shock as Alastor twirled you around, peppering your face in kisses.
”oooohhh my dear what a surprise this is!” He said hugging you. You heard a throat clear and broke your hold on him, turning to see everyone confused.
You gave a sheepish smile. Alastor beamed and hooked a arm around your waist
”Everyone this doll here is my wife! The prettiest thing that ever graced the earth!” You playfully slapped his chest.
Everyone's mouths dropped.
”WHAT!?”
You sat in Alastor’s lap as you told how you knew the red demon. Rambling on about how you two met and how your lives were like.
They just couldn’t process it.
YOU were married to Alastor. 
Married to the most feared Overlord in Hell. 
Wife to the Radio Demon.
How the fuck?
You were an angel? Literally and figuratively!
”How the hell did Mr. Creepy face fancy talk here get a broad like you?” Angel asked.
Alastor’s chest puffed with pride. His smile almost broke his face “with charm and wit my deluded friend” He said as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.
You giggled, it was always entertaining to see people's reactions to who your husband was.
You turned to Alastor,  lips pouty with a feigned upset look
”Now i been dead forever and not once have I seen you. Why? Why weren’t you in Heaven?”
Alastor stiffened, how was he to tell you that during your time alive he had killed many people just for the fun of it?
“Weeelll my dear I might have killed a few people” 
You blinked and then thought about it.
It kind of made sense, he used to be out ‘hunting’ at weird times of day, be gone at night saying he was working.
 You had a hard time getting stains out of his clothing.
That do explains some things.
”So do you regret anything?” He let out a laugh
nope. Not a single thing.
You shook your head “well since I’m heeeerrrrreee…why don’t we swing by juke joint, if you’re here, I’m sure Mimzy is here. I could use a good time. Its stuffy up there in Heaven. No fun at all”
Charlie perked “Ahh yes you must see how the sinners here are really like and what better than enagaging with them?”
Angel smirked “I know a place waaaayy better than some old booze lounge”
A club. You were at a club.
Your eyes honed in on a mic on the stage and it just happened to be open night.
You batted your eyes and just like that you were on stage.
The lights dimmed and you flipped through some songs to pick.
You might have been a bit old-fashioned but you were caught up on some of the modern singers that came through heaven.
The band nodded at your choice and you took hold of the mic.
With a twirl of your hand, you dawned on a 1920s theme look.
The gang mouths were jaw dropped as you started to sing, the audience was captivated. Catcalls and whistles filled the air.
Alastor felt static run through him as he sighed lovingly as you came down the stage and sat on his lap, mock fixing his bow tie as you sang. You teasingly nipped at his lips, causing his ears to twitch as you smiled going back to waltzing around the stage.
You smiled as bowed as the crowd exploded with cheers and applause as the lights came back on.
Ain’t no way Alastor had a bad broad like you, but the way you happily giggled as he whispered in your ear, pulling you into his chest…
There wasn’t denying it.
You held the Radio Demon’s dark heart.
His sweet, alluring wife
who would have thought?
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DPXDC prompt. Adult!Danny x Sleep-deprived!Constantine: We seem to have a misunderstanding.
Warlock was willing to admit that the Phantom’s company was mostly useful and not unpleasant. Because of the specifics of his work they had to meet quite often. It was nice to be at least a little sure that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the back. The new ghost king seemed to be amused by the World of the Living and that was quite useful. In addition, the Infinite Realms had a history of endless conflicts with Hell, so when demons was messing with him, Phantom was happy to put sticks in their wheels.
However, the current enemy of the League was another alien. Both John and Phantom happened to be nearby. But it seems ghost had no reason to help Hellblazer now, as this fight had nothing to do with his kingdom. Given that Batman had explicitly instructed John to stay on the battlefield, it seemed that if John Constantine wanted to count on a weekend, he would have to use his trump card now.
Constantine: In view of the urgency of the situation, I would like to make a proposal. Life offers many challenges. I know I can meet them if you're willing to face them with me. In the spirit of saving time..[holding up a ring] This is for you. You in?
Phantom: I..I don’t know, John. I mean i want to say yes but It’s all so sudden. Please gimme some time to think, okay? And let me help to deal with these invaders first and then we’ll talk about it.
John: ..Sure?
~~~~~
Tucker: Whoa crazy battle dude. John: Civilians are not allowed here. Danny: It's all right. We were going to meet at a cafe, but now, well, there is no cafe. I mean, he's with me and not so civilian, okay?Ehem..John, meet my best friend Tucker. Tucker, meet my..Em, this is John, and he's kinda my John. It's new for us.
Damn. He was in a hurry and offered more than he should have. It turns out the ghost had an interest in protecting the city. It is unlikely that he would allow the destruction of the place where one of his humans lives.
And worst of all, Phantom did not accept the ring (for which John had to hunt for several months) as payment. Constantine got it specially in case he needed a favor or a way to calm the anger of the spirit he was starting to get along with. Like, really, John spent a fair amount to own the artifact which would have neutralized the consequences of wearing a ring of rage. But Ghost didn’t want it? Why? And yet he helped. So John was in debt.
And how it's all at a bad time. The peace treaty and the treaty of cooperation between the States and the Infinite Realms was concluded only recently. Of course John didn't even have time to discuss the terms of their deal because the blushing ghost flew away to fight but to say that he won't pay for the service is like admitting that you want to start a new conflict. Constantine was starting to have a headache. He'll think about it when he gets at least a couple of hours of sleep. Whatever payment the ghost needs, it can wait a couple of hours.
~~~~~
But as it turned out, the ghost couldn’t make up his mind and decide what he wanted from him. He started showing up at John’s place and looking at him thoughtfully, also recently dragged him to pick out a suit. How he could be mistaken for a stylist John did not understand but preferred not to unnerve a potential ally.
Moreover, for some reason the chaotic creature decided that he had the right to condemn John for always forgetting to have dinner or take a bath. This scoundrel dared to lock him in a bathroom with strange scented candles and colored water. Whatever these bath bombs were, dumb spirit failed to poison him but now John smelled like peaches. Disgusting.
After breaking down the door he found the same mess with candles on the kitchen table. Phantom fought a fierce battle with the green goo in the pot that he brought to John's house, but eventually gave up and they ordered delivery. All in all, it was a pleasant evening. Of course John didn't admit it but for some reason Danny decided that he could make such a mess every Friday.
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~~~~~
Danny: So..me and Morningstar are friends now. Do you mind? I know you don’t get along very well. John: Why should I care? Your friends are your business. Considering you’re crazy about the stars I’m surprised you’re not sleeping with their maker.
Danny: Hell no, Lightbringer is great. And I’m glad he’s sharing with me what I wouldn’t find in books but I would never cheat on my partner. John: Good to know. (Wow, who knew the Phantom has a lover.)
~~~~~
Morningstar: I have no idea what you see in this arrogant man, stardust.
Phantom: I don’t know. It’s interesting to be around him. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And his determination and sarcastic nature are really charming.
Morningstar: Well, I’ll get rid of some of his contracts for your wedding but only because I like you and not because I’m willing to deal with this liar.
Phantom: Thanks, Luci,  you’re the best.
Morningstar:That’s true. But it's not free. I need you as a babysitter to keep Spawn busy while, well, Detective and I are busy.
Phantom: No problem :)
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darkbluekies ¡ 3 months
Text
Make things right? Or make them worse?
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Yandere!doctor (platonic to his children) x twin daughters ocs x female!reader
Summary: Dr Kry’s children finds out their fathers dark secret, and he's determined to silence them.
Warnings: toxic household, yandere, favoritism, guilt, poison, mentions of murder (things along this way)
A/N: I have created my own poison for this story, so I choose the effects. Lol.
Word count: 6.2k
“Bye, dad”, Lydia says and closes the car door.
Her twin follows out of the car, almost hides behind her like a shadow. Lydia frowns confusedly. She’s been more silent than usual this morning. They turn to walk into school.
“Girls”, Dr Kry says through the open car window, catching their attention. “I want you here at three sharp, okay? I’m not in the mood for waiting.”
“Yes, sir”, Lydia answers. 
“Good. Have a good day, girls, I’ll see you later.”
With that said, he drives off. Lydia turns to Nadia who finally raises her gaze from her feet. 
“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks and fixes her backpack. “You’ve been acting off all morning.”
“I have to talk to you about something”, Nadia says hesitantly and looks at her with uneasy eyes. 
Lydia blinked and frowned. “What?”
“I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want to do it when dad was around.” Nadia glanced at the other students swarming around the school grounds. “It’s about mom … and her sickness.”
For as long as they can remember, their mother has been bound to her bed by a rare disease. Thankfully, their father is a remarkable doctor and has been caring for her ever since the twins' birth. He works at a hospital in the city and travels forty minutes back and forth every day, dropping the twins off at school on the way there, and picking them up on the wayback. When they were young, they were put in a private school carefully chosen by their father — who has been very active in the administration.
Their father is a complex person. Although they’ve been by him their entire life, they still feel like they don’t know him. He rarely talks about himself, and seem to have a human side for their mother only. Very rarely, there’s a soft side for the girls … often they’re met by a doctor, rather than a parent. Despite that, Lydia has always been a daddy’s girl, while Nadia has clung to their mom for love and comfort. 
“What about it?” Lydia asks carefully. 
“I heard something …”, Nadia starts and licks her lips nervously. “I heard these noises, from mom and dad’s room-”
“Don’t tell me you heard them have sex”, Lydia grimaces. 
“No …” Nadia shakes her head, eyes shaking. “They were talking. Mom was crying and daad was standing by the bed, holding her cheeks in his hands like this …” She cups her sisters cheeks in demonstration, “...while saying: ‘you’re never going back there, I’ll never share you like that again’.” She shivers. “I-I don’t know what that was, but it made me feel really weird.”
Lydia frowns, trying to picture the scene in front of her. 
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just dad’s weird love language?” she asks carefully. 
“I don’t know”, Nadia sighs defeatedly. “Mom seemed … scared. She looked up at him with eyes full of terror. She could have had a nightmare or something, but dad’s voice- … it was awful. I don’t know how to describe it, but it sounded extremely dark.”
“We could try to ask her.”
“What if dad hears?”
“I could distract him while you ask, if that helps you ease your worry.”
Nadia smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Lyd.”
Lydia gives her an unsure smile and grabs her hand and they walk into school. 
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Like Dr Kry had asked them to, they stand by the gates at three sharp. His white car rolls over and the two of them jumps in, Lydia in the front seat and Nadia in the backseat.
“How has your day been?” he asks and drives off. 
He always asks about their classes, teachers and friends. If there’s a small detail he doesn’t like, he makes sure to contact the school and let them know his thoughts. More than one friendship has ended thanks to his overprotectiveness and the twins has learned to dilute the truth enough for him to be able to swallow it. So once again, they answer in the way he wants to hear it. 
The car drives from the city, gets off the highway and enters a countryside road. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car to roll forward. Here, nothing can be heard except the sounds of distant birds. Their white, edwardian villa is surrounded by a deep, dark forest, close to a gigantic sparkly lake with the closest neighbor being a kilometer away. Despite the isolating upbringing the twins have had, getting away from the noisy, stressful city to the empty forest always cleanse their brains. 
The white, Scandinavian, edwardian aged, wooden villa appears behind the trees like a castle. The house has two floors with a green atticroof, and a bushy, blooming garden in the same color, two glass verandahs on either side of the house and a white fence around the garden.
The twins get out of the car. Nadia gives her a look and Lydia nods. 
“Dad”, she says. “I’ve been feeling a bit weird these last days … I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Really?” Dr Kry asks and frowns. He closes the trunk of the car. “Who have you been around? Are any of the other students sick?”
“A few.”
“Nadia, are you feeling bad too?”
“No”, Nadia replies.
“Could you please give me a check up?” Lydia asks. 
“Alright, come with me”, Dr Kry says and nods at her to follow him. 
While they walk inside, their father and Lydia walks to the living room and Nadia sneaks off upstairs. She moves carefully to their parents’ room and knock gently on the door before entering. Their mother, you, is lying in bed with a book in her hand. You look as weak as ever. Nadia shivers. 
“Hi, sweetheart”, you smile and puts down your book on your chest. “Did you have a good day in school?”
“Yes …”, Nadia mumbles and sits down on the side of the bed, unsure on how to start this absurd conversation. 
“What’s wrong, Nadia?”
“What happened yesterday? WIth you and dad?”
You flinch. Your smile disappears for a moment for it to appear quickly again, but this time in a fake manner. 
“Why did he say that?” Nadia asks carefully. “Why did he say that he wasn’t going to share you again?”
“O-Oh, that …”, you mumble with an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. It was just some adult stuff that me and your dad were talking about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, honey. Why? Did it make you worry?”
Nadia nods slightly. Y/N gives her a smile and takes her hand. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of”, you reassure Nadia. “Whatever happens between me and your dad is nothing you have to be afraid of. We will always put you and your sister first, okay? There’s nothing you have to be worried about. I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, mom …”
You hug her, and Nadia hugs back, but she can’t help but feel that her heart sinks. Something isn’t right. 
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The very next day when they’re left off at school, Nadia grabs Lydia’s arm. 
“Let’s go to the hospital”, she says the second their father’s car disappears behind the corner. She holds up a metallic key. “I have the key to mom’s old room.”
“What?” Lydia asks in confusion. “Why?”
“I have a feeling that mom isn’t really sick and I have to take a look around in her old hospital room. Something isn’t right!” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “Mom and dad met at the hospital and that he was her doctor, that much we know, right?”
Lydia nods, trying to follow along. 
“Isn’t it weird that a doctor as professional as our dad decided to start a relationship with a patient like that?” Nadia asks, sounding unsure. “And wouldn’t he have done everything he could to make mom feel better? Shouldn’t she be better now? I just … I want to know if he has done something.”
“Do you really think he has?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But something isn’t right, and I feel that. Mom seemed to be put on the spot when I asked her about the interaction I had overheard. She seemed scared.” Nadia grabbed her hand in hers. “Please, Lyd, can we go there and just take a look?”
Lydia hesitates and glances at the private school behind them, contemplating the consequences. 
“Please”, Nadia repeats. “If mom is getting hurt, I want to help her.”
“Okay”, Lydia nods. 
With that said, they hurry past the school gates before a teacher has the time to catch them. They take the first bus to the state hospital their father works at and hope that he’s with a patient while they sneak around. 
They hurry inside the hospital and keep their heads down to make sure that none of the working receptionists would recognise them and report to their father right away. They stay silent until they get into the elevator. 
Once out, they sneak over to the door. Lydia stands guard as Nadia presses the key into its lock. The click from the key opening echoes in the empty corridor. Nadia’s hand hovers above the door handle. Her heart twirls around uncomfortably. In a moment, she will be in the room where their parents met, where something happened that made their dad take the decision of stepping over the professional line. If that was good or bad is yet to be known, but she can’t help but feel worried. 
The room is empty, in more than one way. The spirits of old memories haunt the room and they leave a sour taste in the twins’ mouths. Lydia looks towards the bed. Their mother has been lying here for months with a sickness that has kept her bed bound for years. But what happened while she was here?
“What are we looking for?” Lydia wonders. 
“Anything”, Nadia shrugs and looks around. “Whatever that can help us is fine. Journals, reports, notes — anything.”
They start to rummage through drawers, in binders and notepads. Lydia finds herself holding a yellow paper binder with their mother’s name written on it, in their father’s handwriting. 
“Nad, look at this”, Lydia says and holds up the binder. 
They put the binder on the desk and start to pull out papers. Every paper is written from the top to the bottom in ink.
“He has documented her every day …”, Lydia says, perplexed. She shakes her head in denial. “Every single day, every single hour. Obsessively. Look, every little detail is written down. ‘12:35, eaten an apple’, ‘16:52, took a shower’, ‘22:30, called for me on the telephone’. What is this?”
Nadia picks up another paper, a smaller, clearly supposed to be hidden between the other sides. She puts her hand over her mouth as her eyes widens. 
“Oh no”, she gasps and drops the paper. “No, no, no, no …”
Lydia frowns, bends down and picks up the paper. Her heart sinks as she reads the note. It’s a single word, but they’re familiar with it. They’ve found bottles of it in the cellar and the attic multiple times, and when they asked Dr Kry about it, he answered that it was a substance to kill vermin.
“He’s poisoning mom”, Nadia whispers in horror and looks at her twin with wide, terrified eyes. 
Lydia feels the air disappear from her lungs. Suddenly, she feels nauseous. She sits down on the rolling stool and tries to control her breathing. Nadia sinks down on the bed with her head in her hands. 
“What the fuck do we do?” Lydia breathes out with her eyes staring dimly in front of her. She has never felt this empty before, this helpless. “What the fuck do we do now, Nadia?”
“W-We have to call the cops”, Nadia gulps. 
“The cops? Nad, he’s our dad!”
“But if he hurts mom …” Her voice dies out. “We can’t let him take more years from her.”
Lydia nods and wipes the few tears that have begun to run down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she unzips her backpack and shoves the binder down. They will need evidence if they have to prove to the cops. 
The door behind them opens. Both girls fly up from their positions and scurry over to each other. Dr Kry walks in and stops abruptly in the door. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly. 
He’s trying to force a smile, but the red eyes of his daughters and the trembling bodies of theirs are all he needs to see, to know that they know. 
“How fucking could you?!” Nadia screams. 
Dr Kry hurries to close the door as she continues to shout through sobs. 
“What’s your deal with mom?!” she screams. “How can you keep her like this?! Where’s your fucking conscience?!”
She thinks that she’s going to explode in pure fear, anger and sorrow. Dr Kry clenches his jaw and sighs heavily. 
“Your mother is a very, very special person”, he says slowly, as if he is talking to a ticking bomb. “It is all a misunderstanding, girls, I will tell you everything at home. Come, we’re going home now.”
“We’re not going anywhere with you”, Nadia spits and stands in front of her frozen sister. 
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Dr Kry rolls his eyes when they don’t answer. “You’re my daughters, and you are not yet of age, you have to come with me.”
Nadia wants to refuse again, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone with him, not when he knows that they know. 
“Now”, Dr Kry decides. 
Nadia picks up Lydia’s bag and gives it to her sister. It looks like Lydia is going to throw up any second now. Nadia takes her hand and they follow their father out of the room, and out through a back door. For the first time, Lydia sits down in the backseat together with her twin. They hold each others hands tightly and keep silent the entire car ride home. 
“Girls, I never wanted you to see that”, Dr Kry sighs and tries to meet their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I- … It’s hard to explain. Your mother is a very special person who I’m very lucky to have met.”
Lydia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t keep him out of her head. 
When they come home, Nadia drags her sister into the house. 
“Girls, don’t go upstairs”, Dr Kry says in that same dark voice Nadia had heard him talk in a few days ago. “I want you to stay down here.”
They halt, suddenly too scared to move. 
“I want you to help me with dinner”, Dr Kry says. “Come on.”
The twins glance at each other. Lydia starts to drag her sister to the kitchen. They help in complete silence. Lydia’s hands are trembling while she cuts cucumber and it slips, cutting a slit in her finger. She yelps and drops the knife. 
“Oh, honey”, Dr Kry breathes out and grabs her hand. “You have to be careful.”
She doesn’t look at him as he washes her hand under the kitchen sink and puts on a bandaid. Her entire body is in fight or flight mode. 
When Dr Kry takes care of the final touches, the twins scurry up to their mother. Your face drops when you see them. 
“Why is he doing this to you?” Nadia asks thickly as she tries not to cry. “We found out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, girls”, you say sorrowfully. “I wish that you never had to know.”
“Why do you let it happen?” Lydia asks quietly. 
“I have no choice … I can’t do anything.” You lower your gaze and voice to an ashamed whisper. “I don’t have the energy to run away, and if I managed to, you’d be in danger and I’d be dead. Your father has the only antidote to his self made poison. It’s safer for everyone if I stay here.”
“But mom …”, Nadia whimpers, “... he’s hurting you.”
“I … I know, dear.” 
The door opens behind them. 
“Girls, dinner”, Dr Kry says shortly and nods towards the corridor. “Go downstairs.”
The twins turn to you, wanting you to make their decision. You give them a reassuring smile and they leave. You look at the man who has become your husband, much to your dismay. 
“Why did you let them find out?” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “You promised that they would never know!”
“I didn't think that they would.” He wipes the tears that roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fix this mess. Don’t worry, darling.”
With that said, he tucks you in and leaves to go downstairs. The twins have sat down by the dining table with their blank, staring eyes turned down into the table. Dr Kry sits down and start to eat, without seeming to care at all about the incidents that happened earlier. Nadia stares down into her plate with disgust roaring in her stomach. If she eats, she’s going to throw it all up in a matter of thirty minutes. She closes her eyes and sighs sadly. Lydia tries to eat a bite, forcing it down her throat. 
“Nadia, eat a little”, Dr Kry says. 
“I’m not hungry”, she mumbles. 
“You need to eat a bit. I won’t allow you to leave the table before you have eaten. Look at Lydia, she’s eating.”
Lydia feels her cheeks heat up as the attention turns to her. She’s suddenly embarrassed over obeying. Feeling exposed and naked under Nadia’s look of disbelief, as if she’s just broken a silent pact. But instead of saying anything, Nadia picks up her fork and takes a bite of the white rice. The twins can agree that this might have been the worst dinner they have ever experienced. 
Nadia puts her hand over her heart and clears her throat. There's a heavy feeling over her chest, something almost suffocating. She looks to the side, seeing how Lydia is frowning as well, trying to clear her throat. Nadia think that she looks like she’s going to faint. She wants to ask her how she’s feeling, but doesn’t dare talk in front of their father, afraid to start a conversation. 
After dinner, the twins decide to go upstairs, but their legs suddenly feel weak enough to break apart. 
“What’s going on?” Lydia whispers and grips the staircase railing. 
“I think that he put something in the food”, Nadia whispers back. 
“I feel really sick …”
She falls down on her knees in the middle of the staircase, still holding onto the railing. Nadia hurries to pull her up again and drags her over to her bedroom, lazily tucking her in. 
“Don’t leave me”, Lydia whimpers and grabs her hand before she can leave the room. “Stay … please. Don’t go. I'm scared.”
Nadia agrees, not wanting to leave. She climbs down under the covers of Lydia’s bed. They lay in silence and look up at the tilted, wooden ceiling. For every minute passes by, they’re growing more and more sick. Every muscle in their bodies seem to ache, twist and turn. 
“He’s doing it to us too”, Nadia whispers. 
They hear the lock on the door click and give each other terrified looks. Nadia stumbles out of the bed and feel the handle. She gulps in horror and turns back to the bed. 
“It’s locked!” she says and breathes out in shock. “He actually locked it …”
“Come back …”, Lydia begs and reaches for her. 
Nadia returns to the bed, crawls down under the covers and hugs her. She wraps her arms around her sister and rests Lydia’s head on her shoulder. 
“I’m scared”, Lydia whispers. 
“It’s going to be okay”, Nadia replies, although she doesn’t believe it herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
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Dr Kry removes his tie, about to go to sleep. 
“I can’t believe you …”, you whisper from the bed, with her eyes down at her trembling hands. 
“Darling …”, Dr Kry sighs and turns around. 
You raise your tone, but keep it hushed enough not to exceed the bedroom walls. “You promised that they would never get hurt! You promised that they would never get exposed to this fucking substance!”
“They haven’t … yet.”
“Yet?! Don’t fucking tell me-”
“They figured it out, okay? They heard our conversation and decided to check out the hospital for themselves. I underestimated their intelligence … and their love for you.” He sighs annoyedly. “I’m not going to let their lack of understanding break apart our family — that I have fought so hard for. I put something in their food to keep them still for a while. It’s nothing dangerous, little one. I promise you that.”
“If I knew that you were going to break your promise-”
“I had to.”
He is about to caress your cheek, but hears sounds coming from next door. One of the girls is banging on the locked bedroom door, and calling for him. Dr Kry excuses himself and gets out of the room. He walks over to Lydia’s room, where the noise is coming from. Quickly, he unlocks, finding Nadia leaning on the wall right next to the door. Her eyes are full with tears. 
“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks. 
“Lydia isn’t waking up!” Nadia cries.
Dr Kry feels his body turn cold. He runs over to the bed where his other daughter is lying on her side, and he soon finds out that Nadia is right — she isn’t waking up. He shakes her, gives her gentle taps on her cheeks and lifts her up. Nothing wakes her. He has to take her to the hospital. 
“Wait, where are you going?!” Nadia screams after him as Dr Kry carries her sister down the stairs. “She doesn’t want to be alone!”
“You have to stay here with mom”, Dr Kry says over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of Lydia.”
He hurries out of the house and quickly places her down in the back seat. Dr Kry’s usual forty minute drive to the hospital took only twenty five minutes this time. He picked her up in her arms and ran inside through the backdoor, and didn’t stop until their reach the room you have spent many, many months in. Dr Kry places his daughter down on the very same bed you have laid in. He placed an oxygen over Lydia’s mouth and nose, turning on the machine. He hasn’t felt this scared in a long time. 
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Finally, after an hour, Lydia opens her eyes with a small moan. Dr Kry hurries over to the bed and removes the mask. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks her and brushes the hair out of her face. 
“I feel really sick”, she whimpers. 
“Do you need to throw up?” 
Lydia nods. Dr Kry picks her up again and moves her into the bathroom where she hovers over the toilet for ten minutes. Dr Kry holds her hair back and grimaces sadly. He does feel bad for putting her through this, but he has to. 
“There you go”, he says and puts her down on the bed again. 
“Why am I here?” Lydia asks weakly.
“You weren’t responding when anyone tried to wake you up. I got worried, so I decided to take you here.”
“Am I going to die?”
Dr Kry scoffs out a smile in a weird sensation of deja-vu. He has heard that question a lot, in the exact same tone and manner, but from the generation before her.  
“You’re not”, he reassures her and strokes her hair. “You know that I would never let anything happen to you.”
“Why am I feeling like this?”
“I put something in your food to make you and Nadia calm down, but you seem to have reacted badly to the substance … weirdly enough. Since you’re identical twins, i thought you’d react the same, but it seems like you are a bit more sensitive than your sister.”
“Nadia ate less than me.”
“Yeah, you might have gotten more substance in your body, which is why you feel worse. It’s going to be okay, I will not let anything happen to you.”
“But you hurt me.”
His smile drops and his hand stops stroking her hair. He knows that Lydia shares half of her mothers genetics, but he didn’t know that she would sound exactly like you. She has never heard you use these phrases, and yet Lydia has chosen the exact same wording that you have tortured Dr Kry with years ago. 
“I didn’t mean for you to end up here”, Dr Kry sighs and continues to stroke her hair. “That was my fault, I admit that. However, I had to keep you and Nadia a bit sedated because of how scared you were.”
“Why did you use so much?” she whimpers. 
“I was a bit shaky myself, I wasn’t meant to hurt you, Lydia.”
Lydia sighs shakily and sinks down in the mattress. She wants nothing more than to go back home, to Nadia, but at the same time she knows that if she goes back home, she will be locked in her room again. Continuing with life now that they know their father’s secret will be difficult. 
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asks quietly. 
“Until you’re feeling better”, Dr Kry replies and stands up. “For now, I think that you need to sleep. It’s late.”
That’s the last thing she wants to do. She has always been Dr Kry’s (not so subtle) favorite, and she has always had a preference for her father … but for the very first time, she’s afraid of him. She can’t trust him anymore, especially about her health. Being unconscious is the last thing she wants to do. 
“I don’t want to”, Lydia says pleadingly. “I’m not tired … please don’t make me sleep, dad.”
Please don’t make me sleep. Your voice echoes in his head, in the exact same tone. Dr Kry knows that he did a million things wrong when he kept you here, and now he has a second chance to fix things. 
“Okay”, he breathes out and sits down on his stool. “You don’t have to sleep, darling.”
Lydia gulps and looks around in the room, trying to imagine how you had felt while being here. She feels a heavy sensation over her chest, like a heavy stone. She couldn’t see the poisoned air purifier that was mentioned in the journal. 
“Did mom lay here?” Lydia whispers. 
“Yes”, he answers quietly. 
“How long?”
Dr Kry looks down at his nails, eyes faltering. “A, uh … very long time. Many, many months.”
She starts to look around again. “Where is the air purifier?”
“It’s not here … it broke, a long time ago. I had to throw it away.”
“Do you still use that kind of thing on mom?”
“No, I don’t. Not often.”
But he has his new way to make sure you stay.
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Nadia runs her hand through her hair. Her poor sister. What should she do? Dr Kry left the rooms unlocked, which means that she can move around. She drags herself into your bedroom. You look at her with wide, nervous eyes. 
“Is she okay?” you ask and take Nadia in your arms. 
“I-I don’t know”, Nadia responds shakily while shaking her head desperately. “She wasn’t waking up and …”
“She’s going to be okay. I know your father can all of those medical stuff … maybe a little too well.” You sigh and caress the seventeen-year old girl’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Nadia shakes her head. “No fucking way things are going to be okay! He’s a madman, mom.”
“I … I know.”
“We can’t stay here.”
“Where are we supposed to go, Nad? We have no car, nearest neighbor is a kilometer away and we have poison in our blood. Sweetheart, we can’t walk far.”
“Mom, we have to leave. We can’t stay here with this psychopath!”
“Nadia …”
Nadia sighs frustratedly and hides her face in her hands. Something has to work. The farthest she has seen you walk is out to the garden when they’ve had picnic evenings. You take her hand, removing it.
“Sweetheart … you know dad loves you, right?” you ask carefully. You don’t want her to hate her him, after all he is her father … but you have to let her know the truth, no more living in the shadow.
“Fucking doubt it”, Nadia mutters. 
“He does. In his … own little way. But I need you to understand that he has sides that he hasn’t shown you … a-and I don’t want you to see those sides.”
Nadia’s face goes blank. You’re trying your best not to get swindled back into old memories, but thinking about that murderous side of Dr Kry brings you back to a time you much rather would want to forget. 
“Mom?” Nadia asks blankly and almost shouts in panic. “Mom! What sides?”
“He … He is a very patient man, but he can't take as much as possible, so please, whatever you do … cooperate.”
“What does that mean? Mom?”
Nadia goes cold. That’s it, she thinks, they have to leave. 
“Mom, get up”, she says and grabs the blanket before ripping it off. “Now. Before he returns.”
“Nad-”
“We have to try, at least. Please.”
You hesitate before getting out of bed. Nadia grabs your hand and try to pull you out of the bedroom, but everything around you seem to spin. Your entire body is heavy and aching in all the wrong places. 
“Nadia, wait”, you groan. “If I’m going to move, I have to move slowly.”
“Alright”, Nadia agrees. “I’ll go get some stuff and then meet you by the stairs.”
Nadia runs to her room to collect her wallet and hoodies for herself and her sister, then runs to get your jacket. She meets you by the stairs, helps you put your jacker on and then start to lead you down. You’re terrified of falling. 
“Nadia, I don’t think that this is a good idea”, you mumble and think back of your numerous escape attempts, all ending with someone losing their life. 
“We have to, mom”, Nadia pleads. “I can’t leave you here.”
“What about Lydia?”
“I’ll figure something out afterwards.”
Nadia unlocks the front door and leads you out on the glass verandah. You’re filled with fear. What if you can’t walk? What if you hurt yourself? What if Dr Kry finds out? Your body won’t be able to take his anger. Besides, you have barely left the house in eighteen years — apart from a few car rides here and there — what if the world has changed to something you don’t like?
“Mom”, Nadia says slowly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m terrified”, you admit. 
“We will be okay.”
They start to walk along the dark countryside road. There are no streetlight this far out in the forest, but the moon lights up enough for them to see where the road is heading. 
“It’s been years since I was outside last”, you say. “I think the last time I was out walking was in the garden, last summer when we had that picnic.”
“Have you ever tried to run away from dad before?” Nadia asks. 
“I have”, you answer quietly. “A few times.”
“Did you ever succeed?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘succeeding’, because I’m still here, aren’t I? But I got away a few times … the only problem was that he found me again.” You sigh, realizing that perhaps you shouldn’t have this conversation with your underage daughter. “Forget that. Where are we going?”
“We need to go to our neighbors. They have to help us.”
Nadia has only spoken to the neighbors a few times, because of how rarely they run into each other. 
They only manage to walk a hundred meters before bright, beaming headlights light up in front of them. Nadia wants to flee into the forest — in case it happens to be her father behind the wheel — but can’t seem to pull you with her. The car stops and to Nadia’s horror, her father gets out. 
“What the Hell are you doing?!” he shouts, sounding both angry and terrified. “Y/N!”
You freeze in your spot and seem to crawl together like a hurt dog, sounding like one too. Dr Kry runs over to you. Nadia watches in horror and starts to panic, wondering what she should do. Stay here with you and get caught in Dr Kry’s claws … or make a run for it to try to get help. 
“I’m sorry”, you shriek in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Dr Kry hugs your shaking body in his arms and strokes your back, hushing softly.
“I know you didn’t come up with this stupid idea”, he reassures you. “Don’t cry, my dear, I'm here now. I know this wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you. I’ll get you back home and I'll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”
He helps you into the front seat. You don’t fight back in the slightest. Nadia looks back at the dark forest and gulps. Her eyes glues onto something in the backseat and realizes that he has come back with her sister! 
“Nadia, get in, we've had enough of these childish outbursts”, her father tells her. “Get in. Now.”
“Is she okay?” Nadia almost stutters and points at her sleeping sister. 
“She’s okay. If you don’t get in now, Nadia, I’m taking them both with me and you’ll never see them again.”
His favoritism has never been clearer, Nadia thinks. She can’t leave her sister … so she gets into the backseat. Nadia wakes her sister up and caresses her cheek. 
“Are you okay?” she whispers quickly. “Did he hurt you?”
“I feel okay”, Lydia whispers back. “Just … tired. I had tro throw up a lot and I think that he gave me some sleeping pills or something. I insisted on going home … so he let me.”
Nadia breathes out. She glances over at the front seat. Their father holds the steering wheel with one hand and yours with the other. 
“Please don’t cry”, he wishes. 
Nadia watches on in disgust. 
When they get back to the white villah, Nadia pulls her sister up to her own room and lays her down on the bed while Dr Kry takes you into the master bedroom. 
“Here you go”, Nadia says and tucks her in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Some water”, Lydia says quietly. 
Nadia disappears downstairs to get a glass of water. She meets her father in the stairs. 
“Nadia, I’m not sure your sister will be able to leave her bed for a while”, he says warningly. “I wouldn’t try to leave, if i were you. If you do, I will take both of them with me, and you’ll never see them again.”
“Do you like to hurt your family?” she spits back. “What kind of sadist are you?”
“One to make sure my family stays with me. If you don’t want to end up in the same physical state as your sister and mother, you’re going to continue living as if everything is normal, got that? Go to school, come home, study, continue everything. No talking to anyone about this. Is that clear?”
“So everything as normal … but without Lydia?”
“Exactly.”
“Why aren’t you healing her?”
“Because I’m not going to let you, or anyone, take my family from me. Be glad that I’m still letting you live normally.”
Nadia glares at him and continues up the stairs. She holds the glass to Lydia’s mouth, watching her sip. 
“What now?” she whispers. 
“I’m allowed to continue living like normally … and you don’t”, Nadia says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“But … but I don’t want to live like mom!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Lyd.”
The girl in the bed sighs sadly. Naida takes her hand and gulps. 
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The coming weeks seem normal. Nadia goes to school, studies, returns to the villah, but nothing is the same. Without Lydia, there’s no use in being on top. She has no one to impress anymore. Her father is dead to her, and sucking up to him makes her sick. She barely talks to her friends anymore. They’re always asking her about Lydia, and why she’s not in school anymore. Nadia can’t come up with countless excuses … it’s easier to distance herself. 
Life doesn’t seem that bright and colorful anymore. Nadia can’t bring herself to be excited about things that used to interest her badly. Now, every day is a chore, something she wants to get done, until something happens … but she doesn’t know what it is. A death in the family? Someone saving them? Someone killing someone? 
Nadia walks out of school, seeing her fathers white car parked outside the gates, and him inside … waiting for her. 
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audrey-emeralds ¡ 4 months
Text
Smashing Diamonds
Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader
Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex
A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!
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Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.
However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.
" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.
~~~time skip~~~
After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.
" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.
" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.
" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.
" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "
You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.
Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.
You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.
" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.
" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "
You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.
" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.
" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.
" In that case, drink the fuck up! "
Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.
You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.
Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.
" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.
" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.
" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.
" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.
" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "
" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.
" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.
The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.
Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.
Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.
As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.
The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.
Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "
Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.
His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.
You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "
" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.
" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.
" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.
" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "
He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.
You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.
You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.
" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "
" Is this what you came for? "
You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "
Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.
As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.
" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.
" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.
" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.
" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.
" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.
" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.
He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.
You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.
" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.
" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.
" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.
Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.
" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.
" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "
" We will see if you will. "
1K notes ¡ View notes
inkskinned ¡ 1 year
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there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo
and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".
it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.
and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.
there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society
at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this
and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".
hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.
the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy
and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.
and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?
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river-of-wine ¡ 6 months
Text
I know I’ve mentioned this plenty of times before but I’m still kind of annoyed by how the fanbase just kind of completely declawed the four lords and placed the entirety of the responsibility for their wrongdoings on Mother Miranda.
The Baker family are great, I love them, they’re an incredible unit of antagonists who are intended to be very sympathetic, at least for the most part. Jack and Marguerite in particular have lost all control over their minds and their bodies, turning into extremely violent murderers and cannibals who threaten and attack their own family, kill anyone unfortunate enough to come across them and, especially in Marguerite’s case, lose complete autonomy over their own bodies. Marguerite turns into a walking bug hive who’s only purpose is to feed her family and birth her new children. Jack is an unstoppable murderous force of patriarchal violence who has so much fun chasing down and harming his victims, which in the Daughters DLC includes even his own daughter. The exception to this is obviously Lucas, who has been cured of his infection and his acting of his own free will. All of this is caused by Eveline, everything Jack and Marguerite do controlled by her, and yet Eveline is just as sympathetic as the rest of them. She’s a ten year old girl. Even Jack, who has watched his family and their victims suffer because of her infection, doesn’t seem to hold any of it against her. She just wants a family of her own, after all. It’s a complex and tragic situation.
The four lords, while I suppose being similar in structure, are not the Baker family. Not in dynamic, not in character, not in the kind of tragedy that they embody. I could talk for a while about just how completely different they are, but I don’t know if I really need to.
The Baker family are so tragic because they were just innocent bystanders trying to help a woman and a little girl they found in a shipwreck out in a storm. That’s the only reason they ended up in the situation that they were in. While the lords have similar origins, being victims of Mother Miranda’s experiments to bring her daughter Eva back, an important distinction between them is that in the case of the lords, all four of them are still acting of their own free will. Yes, Mother Miranda has undeniable power over them. She leads the cult they are part of, she has control over the village, she is their superior. However, I really dislike when every negative action by the lords is pushed onto her, as if the lords are not all grown adults who are for the most part acting independently of her.
With Alcina, she is the head of her own extremely brutal crimes. I think a lot of people have forgotten quite how horrifying the situations of the maidens are, possibly due to the prevalence shipping between Alcina and the maidens, and though we have minimal information what we do know is very frightening. Alcina uses her work force like livestock, draining them for their blood in a cellar full of horrific torture devices, and leaves their corpses to shamble around, armed and ready to attack any unwanted guests that have slipped out of the daughter’s clutches so that Alcina still doesn’t have to do her own dirty work, given how highly above everyone but Mother Miranda she appears to view herself as. While yes, Alcina does need human blood to survive, her methods are brutal, and none of this has been enforced upon her by Mother Miranda. Similarly to Jack on occasion, she takes a great deal of pleasure in hurting and attacking Ethan as he runs from her. Additionally, everything she does to Ethan is against Mother Miranda’s request. While yes, it is retaliation after he killed Bela, the part I often see people leave out is that Alcina is equally as upset that he entered her property and was attempting to steal from her, and she isn’t just after him to kill him.
Alcina has also been an active participant in aiding Mother Miranda with at least one experiment, considering that I’d how she got her daughters. While I’m sure her strong admiration for Mother Miranda and Mother Miranda’s power over her has absolutely had an affect in this, that’s not something I’ll deny, Alcina is still a grown woman and in her written entries about this shows no qualms about her participation in this. Her general attitude towards others, using young women as a good source and turning men into scarecrows, also leads me to believe that she does not exactly care who gets hurt or taken advantage of when it comes to her and Mother Miranda’s personal endeavours.
Donna and Moreau are the two more sympathetic people within the four lords, but they are not innocent. To start with Moreau, he’s desperate for Mother Miranda’s approval, as well as the other lords. He’s insecure and lonely, and he’s doing what he has been instructed by Mother Miranda when it comes to protecting the flask. However, he does also take quite a bit of joy in trapping Ethan in the reservoir and swimming after him with the intention to eat and kill him. Moreau though, given his conditions and circumstances, is the one I think is the least to blame for what he does.
Donna is hard to discuss because we know so little about her. Her parents are dead, as well as whoever Claudia was to her, she communicates through Angie and she can cause those who enter her house to hallucinate. According to Mother Miranda, Donna is severely mentally ill and that is what has made her an unfit vessel. I think a lot of people took this to mean that Donna is unaware of what she is doing, that the hallucinations she is showing Ethan are frightening, but after having been a fan of this game for years I just can’t agree with that anymore. Donna intentionally lures Ethan into her house with visions of his supposedly dead wife. Donna is going after fears she likely knows Ethan has, making him relive Mia’s death, take apart a mannequin of her, listen to her voice panic over something being horribly wrong with Rose, all building towards the horrifying baby that chases him through the house. There is no way Donna doesn’t understand how what she is showing Ethan is distressing, especially when you consider that, given how she can make herself appear and disappear at will within Ethan’s vision and that Angie is sitting in the hallways stationary and unspeaking, Donna was likely close by Ethan at all times and could see and hear his frightened reactions to what she was intentionally showing him.
Donna’s death is upsetting, but Ethan was not just chasing her down and killing her. Donna was attacking him, or at least she was controlling her dolls to do so. It’s still a hallucination, but Ethan doesn’t know that. When faced with a threat that is keeping you trapped and trying to end your life, you will likely try to get away or try to fight back, as Donna is doing to Ethan after he starts to attack her and Ethan is doing to Donna when he thinks his life is still in danger. I would also like to remind everybody that Donna communicates through Angie. What Angie is saying, that’s Donna. Angie doesn’t talk or move once she’s dead, it is Donna who controls her.
Lastly, Heisenberg. I think Heisenberg is the one of the four most entrenched in headcanons. Headcanons are fine, I am never in this post trying to suggest they aren’t, but my issue comes in when people use them to try and change the canon of the game. For example, it’s fine to believe that Heisenberg was experimented on by Mother Miranda as a child, but that isn’t canon. It’s fine to believe that Heisenberg mourned the deaths of his siblings, but that isn’t canon. The opposite is, with Heisenberg not viewing the cult as an actual family and being very openly mean to all three other lords, even Donna and Moreau who seemingly haven’t done anything to slight him. While his goal of killing another Miranda is a very understandable and sympathetic one given what she has done to him, using a six month old baby as a weapon and trying to bring her father into the mix only to try to get him killed when he denies him is not. I cannot overstate quite how little Heisenberg actually cared for Ethan and Rose’s safety when it came to his goal, and given that we are playing as Ethan, Rose is the priority.
Heisenberg has built an army of corpses he has presumably stolen and desecrated. This is kind of fucked up actually, and done completely independently of Mother Miranda. He also puts Ethan through a very dangerous lycan gauntlet before he even reaches the factory, which makes it even stranger to me that people seem to interpret Heisenberg’s deal as something that would have benefitted both him and Ethan and as if he ever had Ethan’s safety in mind.
All four of the lords have tragic aspects to them and there are definitely reasons to sympathise with all four. They’re victims of Mother Miranda, who knows they will all be killed. She wants them to be, giving her less to deal with by the time she has Eva back. They never meant anything to her. Not Alcina or Moreau, who were desperate for her attention. Not Donna, suffering from her unspecified but apparently severe mental illness. Not Heisenberg, who was seemingly her favourite creation. However, all of them are grown adults who do their own bad things independently of her.
And it’s fine to still like them. It’s fine for them to be your favourite character. It’s fine to have happy or nice headcanons about them or want to kiss them or be their friend or to want them to have survived. It’s fine to like characters who do shitty things. It’s to be expected in a game series like Resident Evil. It’s a horror game series. People are going to do bad things.
I just find it so boring when people take away all their bite. What makes a character like Lady Dimitrescu so fun it’s that she’s completely over the top. She’s campy and ridiculous, her castle layout makes no sense, she’s got three kids made of swarms of flies dressed like a set of goth triplets, she’s a lesbian who’s castle is full of naked statues of women, she turns into a big dragon and laughs maniacally while flying around and trying to eat you. She’s evil and it’s fun. It’s the same with Heisenberg. He’s a campy show off with a fun voice and a massive hammer he never actually uses. He can control metal. He looks like a cowboy. He pronounced Miranda in a funny way. He talks to you over an intercom while trying to get you killed. They’re fun and evil and they fight over who gets to kill Ethan like they’re two little kids. It’s absurd.
What makes a character like Donna so scary is that she’s silently working in the shadows, unassuming at a first glance and unseen for most of the time in her house. She is the least threatening of the four upon first glance, and yet she has undeniably the most frightening part of the game. Pretending as if Donna is completely unaware of what she is doing and babying her like she is an incapable child waters her down completely and takes away from the effectiveness of her character.
Villain characters are great! They’re very often the highlight of the story they are in, and they aren’t real! The four lords especially are often so completely exaggerated in what they do as well. It’s fine to like villains! It doesn’t make you bad! Characters can be bad people and you can still like them!
It’s just frustrating seeing a group of very fun and exciting villains, all designed with different aspects of horror, all over the top and campy and stupid and fun, all doing their own set of fucked up things, watered down to a set of poor innocent victims who have never done any wrong ever. If you want Jack and Marguerite, take Jack and Marguerite. Lady Dimitrescu loves killing and eating women and Karl Heisenberg turns corpses into soldiers. They’re bad people and they do comically exaggerated bad things. If you can’t stomach liking a character like that, horror is probably not the genre for you. Unless it’s Resident Evil 7, I suppose, but apparently tall women aren’t hot when it’s Marguerite Baker crawling on the walls.
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deadghosy ¡ 2 months
Note
Hazbin Hotel x Jeff the killer or BEN drowned reader.
Please?
SURE! I’ll do Jeff the killer as someone had requested I do BEN drowned! 🦆💗💗
HAZBIN HOTEL X JEFF THE KILLER! READER
prompt: after fighting with BEN drowned, Ben decided to send you into a show….
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You were asleep snoring as Ben snickered holding up a tv that was playing a title card saying “HAZBIN HOTEL” and with that. He smacked you having you go inside the tv with a devilish smirk. You hit the ground as your body did a whole fucking Peter griffen pose 😭
*metal sound* DAYUM!
You were screaming curses under your breath at Ben who just smirks at the tv and leaves whistling like a damn cartoon character. You dusted yourself off looking around this place.
“The fuck is this?….” You said with a scowl looking around…there’s a bunch of ruined buildings and fire everywhere. You walked around confused as some demons whistle at you. Literally catcalling you as one tried to grab you, when they tried to grab you. You stabbed their fucking hand smiling with that extended smile to your cheek.
“Fuck you think you trying to do huh?” You said with a crazed smile as they fall holding their hand to see you aren’t really a “girl” “YOU’RE A GUY??!” You rolled your eyes wanting to be sarcastic “No. Ima killer..Now. Go. To. Sleep.” You said lastly stabbing the demon in its head. You kept walking as the bystanders move out of your way.
AND YEES WE ARE GOING WITH FANON LOOK INSTEAD OF THE CANNON LOOK😨 CANNON JEFF IS SO…..
Let’s just skip ahead, so you went to the hotel as you seen an advertisement about redeeming….tbh you didn’t give a fuck about redemption, you only needed a room.
Vaggie was definitely judging you by your looks as you had shaggy [idk if I wanna give you black hair or just your own color hair but you can imagine yourself as Jeff or nahh] hair and blood stained clothes. But soon later you turned out to be a chill person who helps their peers but also jokes around.
Alastor and you just stare at each other “smiling” at each other just waiting for the other to talk.
“…..so like..are you always this ugly or were you born that way…” “my smiley fellow, I was born for radio…” “no you were born to be ugly-”
Alastor immediately hates you after that but your boldness is entertaining. He might just take you as a guest for his broadcast.
Angel would love to play with your hair and braid it…as you relax at the touch of Angel’s hands in your hair. It reminded you of how Sally braided your hair when she was bored.
Angel had put pink bows in your hair saying “this is so coquette💗” and you just stood there looking at the hand mirror he gave you. “Angel wtf. >:/”
You woke up to get your laundry to see your white jacket IN FUCKIN PINK?!
“ANGELLLL! IMA CHOP OFF YOUR DI-” yeah angel hid in the bathroom as your anger was no match for any demon….
Lucifer will feel concern about your face as you don’t look…normal I suppose. He’ll be probably have a clear weirded out face
I feel like you and Lucifer would have a weird friend dynamic as you just roll with his hyperactive activities.
“How in the hell do you eat?” He says poking your open slit by your mouth. “I just eat. Simple as that.” You said at the king of hell.
Yeah I imagine Lucifer had put duck stickers on your jacket one time.
I imagine husk and JTK! Reader doing a drinking competition….you owed husk 20 hellbucks. 🥲
Husk will actually tolerate JTK! Reader as they don’t whine and don’t complain much until something actually bothers him.
Sir Pentious would be scared of you…I mean if a normal person saw you. They would be horrified.
You give off a depressed Starbucks worker vibes who don’t get paid for shit…..literally a sinner would test you as Charlie or someone will have to hold you back as you swing your knife. “LET ME AT THEM YOU LIL SHI-”
The crew had always noticed you seemed to look more like a human other than a sinner or hell born. But they never really asked. I mean shit Alastor wanted to ask but Charlie had to tell him to stop it.
The egg boiz were scared of you until you saved Frank from cracking as he tried to reach the damn cookie jar.
You used your body to soften his fall as you hit your head on the ground. “GAH DAMN-” *crash* and then minutes later it was found out sir Pentious was watching over your knocked out body as Frank was telling how cool you saved him.
You sometimes try to call Ben to pick you up and this is how it goes: “Ben…YOU SHORT STACK MOTHERFUCKA! YOU BETTA GET ME OUT OF HERE OR I WILL CUT YOUR LINK LOOKIN ASS-” he had you on voice mail as Ben was just chilling playing video games.
I headcannon you having to wear a fucking smiley mask to not scare off residents😭
“Hi welcome to the hazbin hotel….” You said in a dead tone flat. The sinner looked at you confused asking questions. “ Why are you wearing a mask? Is your nose too big? Do you have bad breath? Are you sick? Are you ugly under the mask?”
You had enough as your eye twitched grabbing the sinner by their collar. “How about I shove my foot up your-” “OKAYYY!” Charlie says seeing you about to give the sinner a piece of your mind as she grabs the sinner from your grasp. “How about we show you around the hotel…”
Yeah you don’t do the greeter job no more….
At least you get to give out food as husk serves drinks. That was at least a cool job as husk helped you serve out small little portions of the trays you used.
I headcannon niffty to make you a bug “flower” crown to show how she admires you.
I imagine Charlie would get you a metal shirt and you would be like. “oh thanks.” You smiled and took it.
You had a knife stash just incase you had to defend yourself. You love collecting knives when bored….
Keyword was HAD. Charlie found your knives and hid them from yourself as you had a sad puppy face at seeing your stash gone.
Imagine you just standin there and a Charlie had put stickers on your jacket saying, “good job for not killing!”
You’re such a good kid😄
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haikyuuhoo ¡ 6 months
Text
if i could bring you anything, i swear to god i'd bring you peace
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pairing: suguru x reader
wc: 811
a/n: had a sad girl moment yesterday, so enjoy this fluff i dredged up from the depths of my drafts <3
listen
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The muffled sound of your music goes quiet, and you wait a few beats before pushing yourself up to check what’s wrong. You take a deep breath as you breach the surface of the water, lungs burning at the intake of air, and your eyebrows pinch together almost immediately in annoyance at the sight in front of you.
“What are you doing?” Suguru isn’t even trying to hide the amused, albeit slightly concerned, look on his face. He’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, spinning your phone between his fingers.
“Having a sad girl bathtub moment, what does it look like?” you huff, leaning forward to grab the device—he really had the nerve to stop the music in the middle of such a good song—but he holds it above his head and out of your reach.
“Like you’re trying to see how long you can hold your breath. Like you dropped your ring but it fell down the drain when you were trying to get it and you don't know how to tell me so now you’ve given up. Like maybe I should be more worried. Should I be more worried?” He raises an eyebrow and you let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly with the motion, and the sight makes it feel like a weight has settled on his chest.
“No, I’m fine, can I please just have my music back?” You stick your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes you know usually make him fold.
But Suguru still doesn’t hand over your phone and instead sets it on the counter. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Rough day?”
His voice is so soft it threatens to break down the walls you’ve been holding up since you got out of bed that morning.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I just didn’t know when you’d be home, and—”
“You could have texted me.” Suguru frowns, but you wave him off.
“It’s not that big of a deal, I wasn’t gonna bother you.”
Suguru lets out an almost exasperated laugh, and the sound makes your belly warm. “Anything that makes you want to do this is a big enough deal to me.” He grabs your phone off the counter. “Tell you what. You have until I’m done making dinner to finish sad girl bathtub hours. You can still be sad, and we can talk about your day if you want to, or we can do something else. But what I’m not going to let you do is turn into a human-sized prune in our bathtub.” He sets your phone on the edge of the tub and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”
You nod slowly, relaxing at the lingering feeling of his lips on your skin before tilting your head up to urge him into a kiss.
Suguru hums into your mouth, pulling back for a fleeting moment to nudge his nose against your cheek. “Say okay,” he whispers.
 “Okay,” you breathe, and you lean closer to capture his lips again and deepen the kiss. You pull one hand out from under the water and cup his jaw before pushing your fingers into his hair, your teeth flashing in the briefest glimpse of a grin at the way he jumps when water trickles down his neck.
He pulls away and you have to fight off a laugh as he wipes at the back of his head and noticeably shivers. “I’ll call for you when dinner’s ready.”
“Or…” You tilt your head to the side and give him a sweet smile. “You could join me?”
Suguru huffs out a ‘no-fucking-way’ laugh and shakes his head. “Absolutely not. That water is way too cold.” You pout, but he’s already standing up and turning toward the door. “I mean it. We can have sad girl blanket burrito hours or sad girl movie marathon hours, but we’re not going to have sad-girl-getting-hypothermia-in-the-bath hours.”
And this time you do laugh, and in that moment you both know he’s made the breakthrough you needed from him. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He nods, and he begins making his way back out of the bathroom when you call for him.
“Suguru?”
He turns back around and raises an eyebrow in a silent question.
“I love you,” you murmur with a voice so soft it makes his heart swell. “And thank you.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “I love you too.”
You watch him leave the bathroom and then close your eyes, letting yourself take what feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to manage all day. And then you look at where your phone is still resting on the side of the tub, waiting for you to press play, and you reach forward and pull the drain.
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fun fact i felt like i needed to title this some phoebe bridgers lyric but i'm sadly not a phoebe girlie and i couldn't lie to y'all like that
reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
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averywiseanimatedcat ¡ 3 months
Text
6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.
The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.
Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.
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Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.
As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.
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But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like
The wall push (which was aggressive)
The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal
The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)
Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up
Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, Neil said they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?
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And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’
Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. He reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. And I think he has been holding back (we can see that on his face) but there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm
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When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out
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And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. But Crowley just gets out of the way like he does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.
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And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.
So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.
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reiderwriter ¡ 7 months
Text
Elevator Pitch
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: 2k!!
Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI
Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.
A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀
Check out my masterlist here!
You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either. 
"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen. 
"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut. 
"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely." 
"And I'm supposed to trust you?" 
"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you. 
"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes. 
"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation. 
"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech. 
"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”
“Like what?” 
“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart. 
Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.
“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex. 
“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it. 
“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question. 
“Of course I have.” 
“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?” 
Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths. 
“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering. 
“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?” 
“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours. 
He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him. 
You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs. 
“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..” 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.
“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?” 
“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.
“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief. 
“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak. 
“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.” 
His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.
“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his. 
“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” 
“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word. 
“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side. 
“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it. 
You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances. 
In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.  
“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days. 
When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall. 
“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.  
“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer. 
“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you. 
“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat. 
“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again. 
“I look forward to working with you.” 
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