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#I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything
georgianadarcies · 2 months
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I sure have gotten myself into a situation!
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megah3rz · 11 days
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i'm always between the chairs and everyone around me will be saying wow you're doing so great not everyone could sit like that, fit in between there so well! and i'll be like idk.. i kinda actually want to sit on a chair because this is getting uncomfortable and then they respond i don't understand your problem, you should be happy you're so skillful! so I silently bear my cross hahaha ha
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one-winged-dreams · 3 months
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I'm just so fucking tired of it all
#vent#abuse mention#it IS the blow motor that's fucked and dad says it'd be a super hard day long job to do it yourself#i'm just so fucking pissed because 'oh we couldn't help you with your electric bill* because we had to drop 1000 for your sister's new car'#*last week#and i don't want to sound like an ungrateful bitch but 'oh your ac's broken? let me point you at a guy who can do it for like 300'#hello???#i'm not asking my parents to shell out for me or anything but every fucking time i call them it's like#'oh we had to buy your sister a new car battery'#'oh we had to get your sister's bumper replaced'#'oh we had to pay your sister's rent'#this is the sister that's just the meanest rudest bitch you'll ever meet by the way#the one who was my OTHER abuser (physically and psychologically)#the one that claims that i was the favorite child and she was the poor little sole abuse victim#yeah i was the favorite. the favorite to get the shit beat out of me and told i was the oldest so i had to be The Most Perfect™ or else#i'm not saying you didn't get abused but don't you dare fucking come at me saying that you had it worse than me#abuse is abuse but boy howdy if there isn't some favoritism at play going on NOW#fuck out of here with that shit i see how it is#what fucking ever#also i had to just disassociate through an entire paranoid psychosis rant from my mother talking about how my dad's ex's husband#is going to fly down from Illinois to kill them both specifically because my dad talked to a guy who knows them and asked how they were#so i'm feeling great
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gender-luster · 2 years
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superheroes be like "i know a place" and then just take you to the top of a really tall building
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rollercoasterwords · 2 years
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i am once again asking people not to share my writing if u aren't going to credit me!
this is gonna be a bit of a rant i think. sorry but also i'm just fed up at this point lol
i've already. mentioned this or talked about it a few times on my blog but like. here's the ~official post~ i guess because over the past year i have lost count of the amount of times i have come across a post--usually on twitter or tiktok--that is quite literally just a direct quote from one of my stories copied and pasted without a single reference to where it came from or who wrote it.
so like, quick reminder:
this is not a quote.
"adding quotation marks to it does not make a quote."
"a quote is only a quote if you QUOTE THE PERSON WHO IT CAME FROM." - rae, @rollercoasterwords tumblr blog
does that make sense???? PLEASE tell me that makes sense. to make it even clearer:
if you are going to quote my writing in a tweet, please include AT LEAST my ao3 username (rollercoasterwords) and also, ideally, the fic title that you are quoting from. if you want to throw a link to whatever ur quoting from, great! but like. at the very least, all i am asking is that you add "quote" - @rollercoasterwords on ao3
if you are going to quote my writing in a tiktok, please include AT LEAST my ao3 username either clearly in the video itself or clearly at the very beginning of the caption, where anyone looking at the video will be able to see it immediately. please don't just put credit in a tag at the very end of a long caption where it isn't clear which tag is the fic title the quote is coming from; please don't just put it in a comment that not everyone will open and find; please don't just put it in a response to someone else's comment asking you what fic the quote is from. and please don't put no credit at all--i've seen tiktoks of my own writing without even quotation marks to let people know that it's a quote! like...at that point you're just plagiarizing my writing for...what? tiktok views? like. ok.
other writers might feel differently about how you credit them when quoting them, but for me--this is what i'm asking. just. at the very least, clearly include my ao3 username, so that people know who wrote the thing that you're sharing.
and like. i think there's this idea that you're doing me a favor by sharing my writing, in any capacity, on the internet. and at the risk of sounding harsh, i want to be very clear: that isn't true. if you are sharing my writing without any indication that it is even mine, then you are not doing me a favor. you are taking something that i worked very hard on and using it to get a few likes for yourself. i know that it's fanfiction, and i know that once i post something on the internet it is, to a certain extent, outside of my control. but like...this isn't something i'm profiting off of. it's not something i'm trying to get the most views possible on. the only reason i'm sharing it on ao3 is so that people who appreciate it can find it, and so that i can connect with those people who take the time out of their day to leave a comment or send a message saying "hey, i loved this, thanks for sharing it!" i would rather have only 5 people see my writing and like it and genuinely connect with me over it than have 5000 people see my writing and like it and never have a single one of them know who actually wrote it.
anyway. i'm not trying to sound ungrateful, y'know? i do truly, sincerely appreciate that there are people out there who have been moved enough by my writing to want to share it with others. but this isn't a numbers thing for me, ok? the amount of people looking at a thing i wrote is not what makes writing worth it to me, and i would truly, genuinely, just rather not have a single person share my writing on twitter or tiktok than have like. fifty people share it without crediting me.
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globodamorte · 11 months
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like. my cat might have died if we didn't medicate him in time. and my dad didn't want to he was grabbing the carrier I was literally on the floor crying while my sibling said they would pay for it and he still was like "you guys need to have PATIENCE ..... let's go find a cheaper place" like my cat can't breathe bitch I don't have the luxury to think this calmly !!!!! I don't know if we have TIME to search for another place !!!!!!!! and if the cat did end up dying he'd be like "well there was nothing we could've done that's a part of life why are you sobbing and throwing up control yourself"
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.
He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.
(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)
He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.
He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.
He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.
Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.
Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.
Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.
He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.
So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.
He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.
What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?
He flirts with Death.
Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.
Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.
Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.
"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.
He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.
Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.
"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."
Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."
"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.
"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.
"Please don't call him that."
Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."
Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."
"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.
Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.
He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!
"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"
"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."
"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.
"I'm older than you"
There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."
"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.
While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.
"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"
"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"
Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.
"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.
The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.
"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"
Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.
It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?
Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.
Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.
Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.
Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.
Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.
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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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Astarion x f!reader. We Shall Meet Again
Read on AO3
Astarion and Tav are talking about life and death and end up talking about children tags: fluff, comfort, conversation about death and mortality Astarion mentions he wants to step into the sunlight once Tav dies so consider it a trigger warning Read on AO3
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Headcanons
"Please, Astarion, I can walk on my own!" You try to free yourself, but the vampire drags you on his shoulders like a lifeless sack.
"No, you can't," he replies.
You let out a sigh of frustration. If only Astarion could see your expression, he would witness your disappointment.
The task seemed simple enough. The villagers promised a reward for getting rid of a troublesome troll. It should have been a routine quest for a pair of seasoned adventurers like you. And it had been until the troll hurled you against a tree. Astarion swiftly dealt with the monster, then hoisted you onto his shoulders, and now the two of you were making your way back to the village to get the reward.
"Please, just put me down," you implore.
"Your leg is broken," Astarion insists.
"No, it's not!" You let out a cry of pain as he touches the injured limb. "Fine, you win!"
Astarion chuckles softly as you continue to observe the grass and flowers below. Eventually, the fatigue overtakes you, causing you to black out. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself back in the village.
"We've agreed on five golden coins! Take your reward and go!"
"Yes, but my wife broke her leg, and now I must pay the healer," Astarion argues with a rogue smile. "Eight golden coins."
"Six! We haven't paid the tithe yet!"
"Seven. And your village healer cures her for free."
"Fine! But I don't want to see either of you ever again!"
"It can be arranged!"
The village chief throws a sack of gold to Astarion, and the vampire performs a theatrical bow as if on a stage. Then, he approaches you and gently kisses your forehead, his lips curving into a grin, though a hint of concern lingers in his crimson eyes.
"Don't worry, I'm too young to die just yet," you say as you caress his left cheek, and he closes his eyes, savoring the touch like a content cat.
"I know, but when that thing threw you at the tree, I thought for a second," he stumbles, his voice tinged with worry. "I thought you wouldn't get up."
You remember the wave of pain, the buzz in your ears, and Astarion kneeling beside you, carefully letting you drink a healing potion. He held you gently, his worry palpable as he waited for the potion to mend at least some damage.
He worries sick every time you get hurt. So do you - Astarion doesn't take physical damage easily.
The healer finally arrives, visibly annoyed that he was woken up in the middle of the night. He casts a spell on your leg, and you hear a gruesome sound as the bones fuse back together.
"You could at least be grateful for slaying that troll," you mutter.
The healer lets out a string of curses and leaves.
"Well, I think it's best if we find a spot to make camp before the sunrise," Astarion says.
"I don't think it would be safe to stay in the village anyway. They might start suspecting you're a vampire," you reply as the houses fade into the distance.
"Ungrateful lot," he chuckles.
You take his hand, and you together go into the night. It's been five years since you met at the shipwreck, five years since your unlikely union evolved into something deeper. You haven't grown tired of each other; if anything, you've grown closer, and you can't imagine spending a single night without Astarion by your side.
You are not even sure if you can fall asleep without him cuddling you.
You affectionately refer to each other as "wife" and "husband," even though there was no formal ceremony. One day, Astarion slipped a ring he'd found in a dungeon onto your finger, and you did the same after obtaining a similar one. It was as simple as that.
… The two of you stop and set up a tent as the skies lighten. The tent is crafted from thick, black material and reinforced with a darkness spell - a perfect daylight shelter for a vampire.
You've grown accustomed to the routine. At sunrise, you both go to sleep. When you wake up well past noon, Astarion stays inside, engrossed in the books you've collected on your adventures, while you head out to hunt. But sometimes, you keep the vampire company as he reads aloud.
And once the sun sets, you hit the road again. Both of you share the desire to see the world, and you want to see it together.
Exhausted from a long day of walking and the battle with the troll, you immediately fall asleep. When you wake up, you see Astarion sitting beside you, reading one of his books. The rain is pounding the tent and you feel the cold.
"Good morning," you whisper, and he runs his gentle fingers through your hair. His crimson eyes are brimming with love, but you detect an underlying unease in him.
You've always respected his privacy, but you can't help but notice his recent unease.
"Is everything all right? Do you want to talk?" You sit up, peering at the small entrance tent, shivering.
"It seems I can't keep any secrets from you," he sighs in relief. "I just… got scared yesterday. When that thing threw you. When you fell. Damn, you looked like a ragdoll! Then the troll tried to pick you up to smash you again. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to save you. That you would die."
You say nothing, resting your head on his shoulder and listening to his steady breathing.
"That's stupid. You're here. Everything is great," he says.
You sense that he doesn't honestly believe it. Mortality. Your mortality is what's troubling him. He's undead, immortal. He can only die if someone kills him or if he steps into the sun. But you will grow old and eventually pass away if you're not killed earlier.
A sudden urge to leave the tent and return at sunset washes over you, but you suppress it. You both need to address this, no matter how uncomfortable it is.
"What do you think you will do when I die?" you ask him gently.
He stares at you in horror and disbelief, as if he can't believe you've broached this topic.
"I - I don't want to have this conversation," he mutters.
"Astarion, please. We have to talk about this. My love, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but we must discuss it."
He clenches his teeth. "You can't even comprehend how much."
"I actually can because you don't seem to care about your safety, and there's a very high chance I could end up a vampire widow."
You sit before him, taking his hands and gently tracing the knuckles.
He remains silent, and the only sound is that of raindrops outside. The comfort of the warm tent makes you decide not to venture into the rain.
"I will step into the sun once you die. It's not up for discussion," he says resolutely. "I'll bid you farewell, go outside, and see the sunshine one last time. Don't worry. I'll be with you till the end."
A knot forms in your stomach as you suddenly envision Astarion cradling your lifeless body, waiting for the sun to rise.
"Don't," you abruptly say. "Don't do this."
"Well, it won't be up to you to decide," he says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Astarion turns his head away, a signal that he wants to be alone with his thoughts.
"Okay, I'll go for a walk," you suggest, wanting some fresh air, but he grabs your hand.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to catch a cold," he insists, pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest and you sit together in silence, lost in your thoughts.
"Astarion," you whisper. "Let me tell you something."
"If it's about death again, I'm not interested."
You hug him tightly. "No, it's about… the opposite, actually."
You carefully choose your words. "My people… My people believe in rebirth. We believe that we don't stay dead forever."
You pause, studying Astarion's face, but his pale features remain unreadable.
"When I was little, I was told that our souls come back. In a century, in a millennium. Memories return, and an old personality reawakens. It only happens to some; some are forgotten and never return. That's why we tell stories about our deceased ancestors – to help them find their way back home. Their souls must feel loved to get back."
You hug him even tighter, fearing his reaction.
"Astarion, my love, please, don't step into the sun when I die. Live. I want you to live, see the lands we won't see together, and experience things we won't experience together."
He sobs, and you look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You gently stroke his white curls.
"I want you to talk about me, to tell people stories about my adventures, about who I was. You love me deeply, and if my people are right about souls and resurrection, your memories will be the most powerful beacon in the darkest sea of death."
You release Astarion, who still avoids looking at you directly, seemingly embarrassed about his tears.
"And when that time comes, I will find you. I will embark on a quest to seek my vampire husband, and we shall meet again. You will tell me everything about the places you've visited and your adventures. People you've met, quests you've completed. Everything."
You cup Astarion's face, making him meet your gaze.
"Promise me that, my love. Promise me you will keep living." You kiss his forehead, and your heart swells when you see his smile.
"I promise," he says. "I promise I will keep going."
He lets his tears go and you are proud of him for not concealing the emotions. Then he cocks his heads and grins.
"I'll take your word for that because if I'm reincarnated and never find you, I'll be truly upset," you playfully remark.
"So will I if I keep my promise and you never return," he chuckles.
You plant kisses on his cheeks and share a lighthearted laugh.
"Are you going outside?" he asks. "It seems like it's not raining anymore."
He returns to the book he was reading.
"Go, I don't want you to stay locked in here," he insists.
"Nah, it's too cold. I'd better stay inside with you. What are you even reading there?" You try to snatch the book from his hands, but he closes it and attempts to put it away. "Since when are you embarrassed about your reading preferences?"
You try to grab the heavy black volume, but Astarion catches you and playfully puts you on your back, causing uncontrollable giggles. Now, you can't get up but still manage to stretch your hand toward the book.
"What is this?" You open it. "Dhampirs share many qualities with vampires. They walk the line between living and dead, gain heightened abilities, and have a life-draining bite. Children of vampires and mortals, they are few in number…"
You stumble. Children of vampires and mortals…
Astarion blushes. "I found this book in the troll lair. I never knew that vampires could have children. Like, real children, not cursed spawns."
You open another page with pictures depicting a young human woman with vampire fangs.
"It's written that dhampirs aren't hurt by the sun" he continues. "And they don't need blood to survive. They can easily blend with mortals, but at the same time, they are strong as the undead," he pauses. "It's like being a vampire without downsides."
Half-vampires. Dhampirs. You vaguely remember hearing about them many years ago. Is it possible for you and Astarion to have a child? And would it be right to bring a dhampir into this world?
"Now you're thinking about it too," Astarion observes.
"Guilty," you admit, still lying beneath him. You touch his back, feeling the scars through his shirt. He smiles, enjoying the sensation.
"Speaking of mortality and my promise," he continues, "I think I'll find it easier not to step into the sunlight if I have someone to care for. It would be cruel," he kisses you. "To leave a child without both parents."
You giggle.
"Am I getting this correct? You want me to give birth to a silver-curled dhampir so you won't be lonely?" you tease, pressing Astarion tighter. He doesn't answer, too occupied with undressing you.
A child. Your mind pictures a little girl who resembles both you and Astarion. A progeny. Someone to carry a piece of you both into the future.
"I don't mind," you finally say. "I actually really want this."
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edenesth · 7 months
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[12:58 PM]
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"Well, how does it taste?"
Peering through the doorway, you tried not to make a sound as your boyfriend's mother asked, her eyes gleaming with affection, watching as her son, who was finally back home after a lengthy absence, enthusiastically savoured the homemade delicacies before him.
"It's good, as always!" San answered between bites, "Though, I must admit, it's got a slightly different flavour today. Not bad, just different," His mother bit back a grin as she sent a wink in your direction before he continued, "It's got that strong taste of the herb my girlfriend always adds to her dishes."
With a light chuckle, Mrs. Choi inquired, "So, whose version do you prefer then? Mine or your girlfriend's?" He glanced up at her with a puzzled expression, "What do you mean? Didn't you prepare this?"
She shook her head, a cheeky smile on her lips, "Nope, I was lucky to have a very helpful apprentice who volunteered to cook today while your lazy ass slept in."
His chewing halted momentarily as he blinked, straightening up in his seat, "W-wait, you mean—"
Before he could finish, you interpreted his mother's nod as your cue to make your entrance, "Surprise!" You exclaimed, swinging open the door to his parents' room and skipping toward them.
Mrs. Choi cooed as she enveloped you in a hug, "This is my lovely assistant for the day. How did you enjoy her cooking?"
As he took in your presence and processed the fact that you were really here, he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, "Babe, did you lie to me? I thought you said you were too busy to come to Namhae with me."
"You ungrateful brat!" He yelped when his mother smacked him on the shoulder, "Is that all you have to say to your girlfriend after she took an emergency leave from work just to rush over here so she could surprise you and spend some time with us?"
His eyes widened in realisation, guilt flooding over him for immediately accusing you of lying to him. Jumping up from his seat, he hurried over to you, ready to beg for forgiveness if necessary, "Oh my gosh, you did? I'm so sorry, babe!"
While he tried to embrace you, Mrs. Choi shot him a stern glare, "You better be! Otherwise, I'll take her with me today to meet my friends, and you can spend the rest of the day alone at home!"
You snickered as he cowered behind you, attempting to use you as a shield, "I was wrong, eomma! I'll treat her well, please don't take her away from me!"
With a scoff, she nodded at the food, signalling for him to finish his meal, "You can start by polishing off what she made." Seeing her preparing to leave home, intending to grant you two some alone time before the family dinner scheduled for later in the evening, you moved to help her gather her belongings.
"Bye, eomma! Have fun with your friends! We'll see you, appa, and noona tonight!" He called out from the dining table, bowing his head in shame when she responded with a hand gesture indicating she would be keeping an eye on him.
"Don't worry about us, aunty. I'll keep him in line," You whispered to her as she slipped on her shoes. She giggled, giving your arm a squeeze, "Good, let me know if he does anything to upset you. I'll straighten him out."
You couldn't contain your laughter when you came back to find him sulking while doing the dishes. Snaking your arms around his waist from behind, you nestled your cheek against his broad shoulder, "What's wrong, Sannie? Aren't you glad I'm here?"
He pouted as he set the clean utensils aside to dry, "Seems like you've already had my mother wrapped around your little finger, huh? I swear, she loves you more than she loves me now."
"If you want her undivided attention, I can leave." You teased.
Before you could pull away, he panicked and spun around to hold you tightly, "N-no, please don't go!" He pleaded, burying his face in your neck, "I was just playing with you, babe. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad you're here, and seeing you bond with my family means the world to me."
You melted at his words, tightening your embrace, "I know, Sannie. I was just playing with you too."
He couldn't resist moving in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back just as fervently. Pulling back slightly, he murmured against your lips, "Well, instead of playing with my feelings, why don't you play with something else?"
Gasping loudly, your cheeks flushed red at the implication, "Wh-what are you suggesting, Choi San?! This is your family's house, it wouldn't be appropriate—"
He burst into laughter, pecking you on the head, "What were you thinking, babe? I was just talking about Byeol. We haven't been here in so long, I'm sure she misses us. Don't you want to play with her?"
Only then did you recall the presence of his cat, and you turned over your shoulder to find her staring curiously at you and her owner, "R-right, of course. I missed her too."
He cupped your face, urging you to meet his gaze, and grinned slyly, "But you know, if you have other ideas, I'm sure we can—"
"No, stop it, we won't!" You squealed, flustered, pushing him away and rushing over to cover the cat's innocent ears from whatever suggestive remark your boyfriend was about to make.
Gently stroking Byeol's black fur, you cooed down at her, "Don't pay attention to your oppa and his filthy mouth, hm? Unnie will shield you from him," When the adorable creature affectionately mewed and nestled into your hands, you turned to playfully tease him, "See, she already loves me more than she loves you."
Rather than feeling envious, your boyfriend's heart swelled with warmth and love at the sight. It was at this moment that he realised you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
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ATEEZ Masterlist | My Pookie's Version
Y'all, the way my hand itched the second I saw San's IG update asdfghjkl I just had to write this! My bestie and I both decided to write our own versions of scenarios inspired by these photos. Do check out her version!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @cereal-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months
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oooh 70 on the prompts list with shane would be so angstyyyyy plz i need to see ur thoughts on this -galaxy
This one's got a little kick to it ough
70) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"
......
"Honey..wh..what is this?"
"Can't you read? God, and I thought Alex was the only illiterate man in town-"
"I know what it says! But..I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"
"Besides being a leech on my income for the past year and not doing a damn thing to make up for it....no."
"..are you crazy? I HAVE been doing my part! Just..take these back to Lewis and tell him you changed your mind. I'm not signing them."
"I don't need your signature. Just mine is enough to finalize it. I've already gotten everything packed for you..since you're too goddamn lazy to do it yourself."
"....what?" Tears stung Shane's eyes as he shakily set the stack of papers on the table, his vision blurring. He stared at you, seeing not an ounce of remorse on your face..but instead pure hatred. "Why would you do this behind my back? I-I thought...you-"
"What? You thought I loved you? Hah." The brief laugh that left your lips was cold. "Who could love a messed-up lowlife like you, Shane? I have a farm to take care of, a community center to restore..I can't have you slowing me down. It was a fun little fling, but now you bore me. I gotta get serious about my work."
"That's...all I was to you? A "fling"?!" A hurtful scowl formed on his face, hands shaking. "What about everything we've-?!"
"I only pitied you. And y'know, if I didn't care about Jas growing up without a father figure..I would've left you in the forest that night. I only stayed and married you to make them happy. But you blew your chance to get your act together..they're gonna be so disappointed in you."
As much as he wanted to respond with a snarky "I didn't know there was a time limit"...he was frozen on the spot, unable to say anything.
What could he say?
This was all so sudden...and just when he thought you two were doing so well and he was starting to have a genuinely positive outlook on life..
He made the horrid mistake of checking the mailbox and finding the dreaded papers.
"I'll say this was 50,000 gold well-spent." You grabbed the papers off the table, looking at the broken man before holding out your hand. "Give me that necklace. I'm gonna sell it."
"No..." Shane shook his head and clutched the mermaid pendant, tears streaking his face as he backed into the corner. "I...I-I'm so sorry, I'll try to be better! Just tell me what I can fix, a-and I'll-!!"
Suddenly you pulled out a dagger and swiped at him, causing him to flinch and shield himself, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation-
Yet he wasn't injured, but when he saw his pendant in your hands now...he felt as though you actually twisted that dagger deep into his heart.
He collapsed to his knees, devastated as you sheathed your weapon and pocketed the amulet you once tied around his neck at your wedding.
By your hands, you two were bonded in matrimony...
And by your hands, that bond was severed.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sick of pretending that I care for some lazy ungrateful fuck. Goodbye, Shane."
And with that, you stormed out of the house..and he was left there on the floor, his sobs filling the silence in the now empty cabin.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It was already late when you returned from your mining trip, and once you finished putting the spoils of your expedition into the shipping bin, you yawned and stretched.
The time was 1:10 AM...and your energy was super drained.
You figured Shane was already sound asleep. The idea of crawling into that cozy bed and cuddling with the man you loved had you eager to take off your boots and put your tools away.
However upon opening the door..you immediately caught a faint whiff of beer, and it left a sinking pit in your stomach.
He did bring home a six-pack case today, and he promised to have it in moderation.
But the kitchen trash showed clear evidence of recently-opened cans.
Four out of the six, in fact.
'Oh man..it happened again..'
You knew that he wasn't gonna be able to quit cold turkey just like that. It wasn't a habit he could flip off like a lightswitch, and that's a fact you've come to accept.
Although he had a few beers from time to time, it was nothing like before. And he would always let you know if he was having some....so to realize he drank over half the case tonight alone was alarming.
Why? You were only gone for a few hours..
You entered the bedroom, finding Shane still awake, hunched over on the bed's edge with his face in his hands. He looked completely torn up, and you've never seen him this bad since..
"Shane, sweetheart?"
Startled, he looked up at you, revealing his eyes to be puffy and red from crying. "O-Oh..hi. You..y-you came back?" He hoarsely asked.
"Of course I did..without having to visit Harvey, thank god." You walked over and sat beside him, frowning. "But more importantly are you okay? What's wrong?"
He tried to respond, but the memories of that nightmare made him physically incapable of doing so...and fresh tears welled in his eyes.
A choked sob came out, and as quickly as he tried covering it up--it failed as similar heartbreaking noises followed.
You didn't waste any time pulling him into a hug.
Leaning against you, he sobbed into your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt in tears. But you just hushed him and rubbed his back. He didn't smell too heavily of beer, although it made you wonder what happened tonight that was bad enough to make him relapse.
Was it...you?
Was you being away stressing him out?
Did he think you wouldn't come back-
"[Y/n]...you sure you..really love me? And all of this isn't...a-a joke?" He hiccupped softly.
Those questions made your heart sink, and you briefly pulled away to gaze at him in sadness. You knew he was still struggling with his self-confidence and self-image, often comparing himself to a "squishy bag of flesh" and feeling "too old", but for him to doubt your love?
Even after talking him off a cliff?
Even after going to the gridball game where you shared that first kiss?
Even after giving him the bouquet and mermaid pendant?
"After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" You asked softly, not with anger, but with worry.
"Just look at me, and look at every other guy in this town. You could'a had a doctor, someone who can still play gridball, a writer who lives by the sea...even that emo guy seems cool. But you chose me..."
With a sniffle, he clutched the mermaid pendant with trembling fingers. "...this pathetic..l-lowlife who doesn't do shit on this farm. I swear I'd change and get my act together, but I'm letting you down again...j-just like everyone else. And I'm so sorry...I'm such a failure." He sobbed harder.
"Wha..that's nonsense. You do more for me and this farm than you could possibly know." You cupped his face, feeling his cheeks grow wet with fresh tears. "You feed the animals, you water any crops my sprinklers could've missed...and those pepper poppers you give me help keep my energy up in the mines so I can come home safely."
"But..I can't even microwave them right." He whined. "I wanna have the energy to cook like you do-"
"What do you mean?" You frowned. "Last week, you made me a killer omelet when I went to bed angry over a Pepper Rex burning my favorite cardigan."
Shane blinked, searching his foggy brain for that memory, before it dawned on him that he actually DID wake up extra early to surprise you with an omelet he cooked on the stove. Made from Charlie's eggs, of course.
"Ah, that's right..well...I guess I'm good at some things.." He sniffled, slowly calming down.
You chuckled softly, thumbing away the rest of his tears, your fingers brushing over his scruff. He recently shaved it, but it grew back rather quickly--like a crop infused with deluxe growth fertilizer.
"You're good at being my partner, and keeping me company after a long day." You kissed him in the lips. "I love you, Shane. Nothing will change that, even if you have relapses."
"I love you, too..and 'm sorry. I just had this really bad nightmare, and I couldn't fight the urge tonight."
"I understand, I'm not angry." Bringing him back into a hug, you sighed as he squeezed you tightly. "Did you wanna talk about it? I know it's late but..I'm sure it'll help us both."
"...you promise not to laugh?"
"I promise."
"I..had a nightmare you divorced me."
"Huh..really?"
"Yeah, you filed the papers behind my back and said some...pretty hurtful stuff, like how it's "the best 50,000 gold you've ever spent", how what we had was just "a fling", and...how I'm leeching off of you." The longer he went on, the more he struggled to swallow back further tears. "And..you took the pendant back by force. With that dagger you always keep on you."
"....."
"I-It's stupid, but it...just felt so real. And when I woke up and you didn't come back from the mines yet, I thought maybe..it actually happened."
"Shane." You shook your head, leaning back again to bring his face into your hands. "No way would I EVER put that much gold towards something that stupid. This farmwork..it's so much to one person to handle, and I'm forever grateful you're here to help me. You're doing your best, and that's all I could ever ask for."
"Thank you.." He nodded, finally realizing that what he dreamed was nothing more than a ridiculous nightmare.
You smiled and kissed him again, making this one last a bit longer before you pulled away. "I'll get you some water, okay? I don't want my baby to have a hangover in the morning."
Shane sheepishly returned the smile, allowing you to get up and go to the kitchen, while he got comfortable in bed and patiently waited for your return. His hand went to the pendant on his chest, relieved it was still there.
Even though you were probably dead-tired from the mines..you still took the time to care for him when he hit another low. You didn't see him as a chore or a leech on your life.
You saw him as your husband, your soulmate..someone you were willing to love through thick and thin even when some days were harder than others.
Of course, his depression might tell him otherwise, and manifest those insecurities into nightmares.
But you'll still be here for him no matter what.
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heartfullofleeches · 1 month
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Been debating on if Bugman is infertile because of the bug god within their body or if Bug could have children - would they have some sort of fucked up bug characteristics. I'm just gonna say that literally nobody knows one way or the other- The cult, the bug god, Bugman themselves. Once again, this would be funny in the context of Childhood Bestie Reader because the cult might not want any kids with wings sticking out their back or extra eyes/limbs running about before the bug god awakens so as Bug and Friend Reader become adults the elders make them leave Bug's bedroom door open whenever Reader's over because they don't want to risk anything.
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Cultist Aunt: How are you crazy kids doing?- Need anything? More snacks? Blankets?
Bugman: We're fine. Aunt, I do not mean to sound ungrateful after all you've done for me over the years, but if I am permitted to ask - why must I wear this sunglasses in doors when Y/n is present? I can hardly see them.
Aunt: Haha, and it should stay that way! Have fun you two!
-
Childhood Best Friend Reader: Would your kids hatch from little eggs or have wings?
Bugman - picturing them and Reader holding a child with butterfly wings: We are not having this discussion, Y/n.
Childhood Best Friend Reader: Why do you sound so sad, Bug? Did I make you uncomfortable?
Bugman: The opposite, I'd say.
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ziggyzolch · 6 months
Text
Queen Bee-atch Ⅳ (Regina George x Reader)
Warnings: underage drinking, cursing, attempted assault
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Grass tickles your bare feet as you run around the field, picking pretty flowers and humming random tunes. Falling to the ground, you stare up at the sky. You turn your head to the sound of little footsteps approaching. A little kitten appears next to you on the ground and paws at your cheek, pressing harder and harder with each poke. How can something so tiny press so hard? The kitten opens its mouth, but instead of a meow, it lets out a, "Dude, wake up!"
You jump up in your bed, falling off and landing on your ass. Two voices laughing at you catch your attention. You look up and find Janis and Damien laughing their asses off, Cady standing behind them with her hands joined at her front, smiling. "What the hell, guys!" You stand up, rubbing your palm into your eyes, "What're you guys doing here?"
Janis adjusts your blanket as she takes a seat on your bed, "Cady told us what happened, we came to check on you." She says while pulling you down to sit next to her. "It's nothing, seriously." You roll your eyes at her. Cady joins in, "Look, there's a Halloween party tonight, you should come with!" Your groan is interrupted by Damien, "Girl, you look horrible. It'd be good for you to go out and get your mind off of things. If anything happens, me and Janis are waiting for you at her house."
Never in a million years would you be caught dead at a high school house party, but you don't think they're going to take no for an answer. "You need a distraction, some fun! You do know what fun is, right?" You shove her lightly with a smile on your face. Cady celebrates at your reluctant nod, "It'll be so fun!"
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Spoiler alert, it was not fun. The crowding and loud sounds were starting to become overstimulating, and Cady had ditched you to look for Aaron the second you reached. You were clad in a short black dress with fake blood smeared on the bottom half of your face. In the 15 minutes since you reached, you've been pushed, cursed at, and almost thrown up on. You were now leaning against the kitchen counter, nursing your 5th cup of mystery alcohol. There was no way you'd stay sober at a party like this. You thank whatever god is out there that your tolerance was low. The familiar buzz had made itself known 4 drinks ago, and you were now borderline drunk, watching Shane Oman approaching you.
Regina had been watching you take shot after shot from the other side of the room. Her plan was to drag Aaron away from Cady and guilt-trip him into getting back with her, but she couldn't bring herself to take her eyes off of you. The memory of you running out of her room crying was still fresh in her mind. God! Why is she being like this? Who even invited you!? Pushing you to the back of her mind, she stomps towards Aaron, dragging him away with the intention of carrying out her plan, when she notices Oman attempting to get with you.
You were frozen up, your feeble attempts to push him away weren't working. "Come on, you want this. Think of this as your apology for being an ungrateful bitch-" A punch lands on his jaw before he could continue. Using all your strength, you lift your head up and see a familiar senior readjusting his stance. "Thank you, Aaron, I'll take it from here," Regina smiles gratefully at him as he drags a barely conscious Shane out of the party.
Her attempts to wrap your shoulder around her were stopped by you weakly shoving her away. "F-fuck you, b-bitch," You slur out while swaying on your feet. Regina sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Do you have a ride? Do you know how you're getting back home?" You squint your eyes at her, about to reply, when you fall into her arms, mumbling incoherent insults. "That's what I thought." She grunts, placing her hands under your armpits and lifting you upright. "I'm good, I'm good-" Regina's eyes widen as you turn, throw up, then fall to the ground. "Gross, gross, gross, gross..." Regina gags as she picks you up from where you were lying in your own vomit.
"Move!" Regina bumps into Cady on her way to the front door, ignoring her calling after her.
"Hey! What the hell happened?" Cady yells over the loud music.
"Maybe you'd know if you didn't ditch her for a boy!" Regina snaps, adjusting her hold on you.
"Oh fuck you! I saw you about to chat it up with Aaron, and she was fine by herself!"
"No she wasn't! She's like an antisocial puppy, why would she be fine at a party?"
A groan coming from you stops Cady from retorting.
Sighing, she looks at Aaron then back to Regina, "Now's not the time. Please take her back to yours. I'll call her mother and tell her she'll be staying at mine."
As much as Regina wanted to argue that Cady brought you here, so she should be taking care of you, she takes a deep breath and walks away, shoulder bumping Cady for good measure. Being the bigger person really suits her.
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You were being insufferable. Throughout the whole car ride back to her house, you kept making lame angel jokes, which she assumed were meant to be insulting. She was now wrestling you into her bathroom.  Your whine bounces around the bathroom walls as Regina finally manages to place you on the edge of her bathtub. "Sit still and lift your arms up, puppy" Regina doesn't let her eyes linger on your body as she peals your dress off of you. 
After pointing out where the body wash and shampoo was and making sure you were good to wash up on your own, she exits the bathroom and takes out clothes for both of you. She rushes into the bathroom after hearing you call out her name. "I'm done" you say, avoiding eye contact.  The shower had sobered you up enough to feel embarrassed about how you were acting.  She smirks at your sudden shyness.
After handing you a towel and waiting for you to cover up, she leads you to her bed. "I'll be back, okay? Gotta wash your vomit off of me." She laughs at your glare and walks away.
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It's been 10 minutes since you woke up and you haven't moved from your spot, staring at the ceiling, mortified. God! You can't face Regina after yesterday. Sneaking out without letting her know was your only option. You put on the first pair of shoes you find as quietly as possible. 'I should become a spy' You thought immediately before bumping straight into her bedroom door.
 Regina jumps up, now awake, and finds you at her door rubbing your head. The second you notice that she's up, you move to open her door, but are stopped by her hand on your shoulder.
"How are you so fast-"
"You're leaving already?" Regina interrupts.
You roll your eyes, "What do you want, Regina?"
"Seriously? You're being a bitch after I took care of your drunk ass?"
You could feel heat creeping up your neck. "Sorry. Thank you, really, but I have to go."
"No, fuck! Can we please talk?"
You really didn't want to talk about her making fun of your weight after she saw you naked, but you knew she wouldn't stop, so you compromised, "Look, I am really busy this whole weekend. I give you full permission to drag me away if you find me at school, though."
 "Okay." She really wanted to talk to you now, but this was better than nothing. You bid her a goodbye, making sure to avoid her mother on the way out. You truly had no idea why she even cares about your opinion of her, but you figure she felt bad for you after realizing who you were and was trying to make up for it.
Moving to lay back down on her bed, her eyes widen in realization. She never gave you a change of clothes, and you were now unknowingly walking home in booty shorts with 'SLUT' plastered on the back.
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A/N : not proofread, so tired. sorry for any mistakes or awkward wording. thank you for reading!
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atimeofyourlife · 10 months
Text
Sharing a night in a shitty apartment
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: only one bed | rating: t | wc: 756 | tags: pre-steddie Steve offered to let Eddie stay at his place in the aftermath of Vecna. But forgets to mention its a shitty apartment with only one bed.
For the first time since moving, Steve was thankful that the communal areas of the apartment block were poorly lit. It was something that he, and his neighbors, had raised to the landlord multiple times, but it never got fixed. But now, the darkness gave the perfect cover for him to smuggle Eddie into his apartment, for a place to lay low until Dr Owens and his band of government goons swept into town to clean up the mess caused by the Upside Down. Something that didn't help, was that they were both injured and he had a fourth floor walk up.
He fumbled for his keys to unlock the door, and they both made their way in to collapse on the couch, not even caring that they hadn't changed since coming out of the Upside Down. When Steve could think a little more clearly, he would be happy that he had an old and ugly couch that he kept covered with a blanket.
"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, it's really cool of you to let me stay with you. But when you said I could hide out at your place, I thought you meant Loch Nora. Not this... cozy set up you have with far too many fucking stairs." Eddie said after he'd had a chance to catch his breath.
"My parents sold up the place in Loch Nora, five, six months ago. And didn't extend an offer for me to move with them. This is what I could get on short notice, and on my Family Video salary." Steve explained.
"Shit, your parents suck." Eddie replied, stretching out. "Any chance of a shower, I feel gross after a week on the run."
"Yeah. Bathroom's over there, the door on the left. Just try not to take too long, the hot water is temperamental, and I need to shower off the Upside Down too."
"I get it, dude. I live in a trailer. Sometimes we're lucky if we get five minutes before the hot water shuts off." Eddie said, pulling himself to his feet. "At least the bats didn't get me as much as they could have."
"Let me just wash the dirt off my hands, and I'll find you a towel and some clothes." Steve went into the bathroom first, spending much longer than usual scrubbing his hands clean. Once he was done, he pulled a towel out of the closet. "Feel free to use any of the soap and shampoo and conditioner. I'll leave some clothes outside for you. Just don't lock the door, it sticks."
Steve went into his bedroom, pulling out sweatpants, t-shirts, and underwear for each of them. He knocked on the bathroom door as the shower cut out. "Eddie, I've got some clothes for you."
A few seconds later, the door opened and Eddie stuck his hand out. "Thanks Harrington."
Once Eddie was done with the bathroom, Steve took his chance to shower off the Upside Down. He then gathered their clothes, towels, and the blanket off the couch into a pile, ready to take to the laundromat. Or burn, maybe.
He found Eddie in the bedroom, trying to look like he hadn't just been snooping.
"I think I'm going to turn in. The most sleep I've got this week was in an armchair in the Wheeler's basement. I doubt you feel much better." Steve said as he pulled back the covers on his bed.
"Yeah. Um, do you have a spare pillow and blanket or something? I can go set up on the couch." Eddie offered, looking uncomfortable.
"Oh, shit. No, you're not sleeping on the couch. It's way too small and uncomfortable. We can share the bed, as long as you don't steal the covers." Steve replied, patting the space next to him.
Eddie looked at him hesitantly for a long moment, before climbing in next to Steve.
The next morning, Steve woke to Eddie practically on top of him. Something about the weight was calming to him, holding off the state of panic he usually found himself in for weeks after an encounter with the Upside Down. And he'd slept much better too, the nightmares that he always got in the aftermath not making their appearance yet. He knew they should get up, to be ready to regroup and face whatever happened next. But he felt too at peace to let the world bother him in the moment. So, instead, he snuggled deeper into Eddie's embrace, and allowed himself to doze back off.
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arieswritez · 9 months
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Just thinking about pervy Mark rn…. Giggles
I think he should be nasty.. a lil gross,, That would be hawt
mark should allowed to be nasty & gross as a treat!!
cw; MDNI! DARK CONTENT! yan!mark grayson x gn!reader, abusive relationships, manipulation, food tampering, drugging, somnophilia, blackmail, scent kink, rape & sexual harassment, mentions of body size (weight fluctuations, implied chub!reader, mark teases reader about it)
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he should be allowed to taint your food with his spit and his cum and get hard while he watches you eat it! he should be allowed to put trackers in your car or on your phone! why can't you understand he's just wants to keep you safe?! stop being so ungrateful >:[ !!!!
how do you think it'd make mark feel if something happened to you? or are you that fucking self absorbed that you don't stop to think about how your actions affect those around you? specifically him. your boyfriend who does so much for you.
what if someone got their hands on your cute little body? is that what you want? because mark obviously doesn't want anything happening to you. . but if that's what you really want: he can make that happen.
he won't like it. but if it means teaching you a lesson, he can always hire a few low lives to scare you straight. and it's not like it's hard to find them and reason with them. mark gets a favor and, in return, they don't have to worry about mark - or invincible, as they know him - lurking on their turf.
despite their reputation, they don't do anything too bad. nothing big enough to cause any permanent, physical damage. although he's sure - and hoping - your psyche will take a hit. he specifically advised they not rape you but they do enough to leave you shaking with fear once it's over.
when you come home to him, clothes torn, sobbing about being cornered and groped, he'll be there, soothing and cooing at you,
"babe~ i told you! this is what happens when you wear that while i'm not around! you have to tell me where you are at all times! it wouldn't have happened if i was there!"
mark should be allowed to make you absolutely, completely, A HUNDRED PERCENT!!!! dependent on him!!! he should be allowed to slip things into your drinks that make you drowsy and force you to stay the night. he should be allowed to set up a cute little camera in the corner of the room, facing his bed, and film himself slipping his hand into your underwear while you sleep! you wouldn't believe the sounds you make while you're passed out <3
he should be allowed to give you medication that causes your weight to fluctuate! & he's allowed to be a little mean about it, too ;( to pinch your chubby cheeks or your softening belly, grab your rolls and say, "you're lucky i love you so much ~"
he should be allowed to use your throat as leverage when he fucks you from behind!!! he should be allowed to stick his thumb/stuff his fingers into your hole while he strokes you or eats you from the back!! he should be allowed to paint your back and/or belly with sticky white cum while you're throbbing for him. he should be allowed to make excuses !!! oh, i hafta go. cecil needs me. im tired. get yourself off, you can do that, can't you?
or just a blatant, "no. you don't deserve to."
mark should be allowed to throat fuck you until your face is covered with tears and snot and he should be allowed to laugh at you and plug your nose while you choke around him!
he should be allowed to force you to your knees & tongue at his balls the second he steps into the house despite the fact that he hasn't showered the day's worth of sweat and grime off of him! you should BE GRATEFUL HIS DICK IS IN YOUR MOUTH!!!
mark is a good bf! and you shouldn't complain!! no one will love you the same way he does!!
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bluebellhairpin · 1 year
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Woke up in the middle of the night with the realization that the reason people like AI so much is because they're addicted to instant gratification, and don't have any patience to wait on real creators since they're all spoilt entitled brats.
They can't wait a few hours for a human rp partner to reply so they use an AI Chat bot.
They can't comment what they liked about a fanfic and wait a few days for a author to write the next part so they use a AI generator.
They won't let real artist put in the time required to create something breathtaking and talented so they use a AI generator.
They can't wait a few years for a trully good show or movie to be produced or paid for properly so they go to AI.
All for what? Because they can't wait. Because they have no patience. Because they're greedy and ungrateful. And you want to know what will happen then? AI will stop working. Real creators will get stick of being called obsolete and suddenly the water to power the mill will stop flowing. AI can't make anything new if it isn't being fed. All this art and music and writing that your giving it will run out, and AI will start repeating stuff.
All your AI Bots will sound the same.
All your fics will read the same.
All your art will look the same.
And all your shows and movies will play the same old blockbuster plots until it's bled dry.
You will destroy it yourself and all we have to do is wait. And you know what? It will work. It will eat itself alive. And I will point and laugh because unlike you I AM patient. I can wait. Instant gratification isn't important to me because in the long run, it means shit. The satisfaction of seeing you all burn fandoms alive with your greed - the same greed the WGA and SAG is striking against - will bring me more satisfaction than what any AI can 'remake'.
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