#THIS SPEECH MEANS TO MUCH TO ME!!! HER TIME STORY MEANS TO MUCH TO ME!!!! SHE MEANS!!! SO MUCH TO ME!!!

[melloollem]

Secrets in the family|| Bruce Wayne × Batmom reader × Batboys

Summary:Your children start an interrogation after noticing that you were hiding papers from them.

Warning: Comfort, silly story, Platonic relationship with the batboys.

(Dc masterlist)

"Aren't you old enough to leave home? What are you still doing here?" The shout from your youngest son caused your attention to wander for a moment from the papers in front of you, but not enough to stop you writing frantically.

"I lived here long before they knew you existed" Tim's reply was heard from an even closer distance, a sign that you would soon see them entering the kitchen, you began to collect the papers hoping that the heated discussion would be enough for them not to notice you.

"Yeah, you lived in my house as a favor, tell me something I don't know" Damian walked in front of Tim, being the first to enter the room. You tried to move slowly in retreat, deciding to head for the dining room, where you'd have a bit of silence.

"I didn't live on favor, I was adopted, they wanted me, you know what I mean?" Tim's cheeky reply came out quickly, taking Damian by surprise.

"Mom, did you hear that?" They both turned their heads in your direction, hindering your escape plan. Damian looked at you anxiously, waiting for you to scold his brother and Tim looked at you scared, like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Timothy, that's not something you say to your brother, say you're sorry" You said the sentence so quickly that it didn't even sound like a complaint, walking out of the room.

You heard a cynical laugh from Tim behind you followed by a "She doesn't care", drawing a tired sigh from you. "It's not that, I just don't have time for you acting like five-year-olds. Damian, my son, Tim doesn't live here as a favor, he's as much my son as you and Tim, darling, don't say those things to your brother, Damian was as wanted by me as you or any of your brothers. Boys, I'm busy" You made the whole speech without slowing down, heading towards the dining room. The sound of footsteps behind you made it certain that the boys were following you. You let out a tense sigh, anticipating the questioning session.

"What are you doing that's more important than us?" Damian asked in an authoritative tone unaccustomed to you involving yourself so little in their quarrel.

"What are those papers?" Tim asked from beside her, much quicker to catch up than Damian and his short frame. "Nothing important." "If it's nothing important, why did you say you were busy?" Timothy retorted quickly.

"Okay, go back to discussing it in another room and enough of this interrogation," you said at the end of your walk, ready to return to your previous activity, dropping the papers on the table. "Tell us what these papers are," Damian said, standing next to Tim in front of you.

"Are those the divorce papers?" Dick said with a humorous tone of voice, as he joined you in the room, leaving everyone confused by his sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here?" Damian was quick to ask. With all eyes glued to your eldest son, you saw the perfect opportunity to slip discreetly out of the dining room.

"I'm here to finalize some reports with - where are you going?" Dick said, drawing all attention back to you, a grunt of frustration escaping your lips, but you were determined to finish your notes, turning your back on your children, determined to find somewhere minimally quiet in the house.

"Are those Drake's and Todd's adoption papers? Are you going to burn them?" Damian asked, receiving a shove from Tim and a low laugh from Dick in response. The boys' pursuit hadn't stopped, only gained more momentum now that their eldest son was also part of it.

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked, she was heading in the opposite direction to you, possibly to the training room, based on her clothes.

"We're chasing Mom to find out what she's hiding" replied Damian "Cool" said Cassandra, joining the group. "Mom?" "Yes, dear" Now you were climbing the stairs, heading towards the second floor of the house, you already knew where you could finish your notes in peace, away from the children's questions.

"Give me the papers, please" You let out a small laugh at the girl's request "No, but you were very polite to ask, congratulations" Even without success, Cassandra gave a small smile in response to the compliment.

"Bye, kids" You smiled as you found the door you were looking for. Before the door was completely closed, you could hear your children sigh in frustration that the chase was over, you thanked Bruce for making the office a forbidden place, now you understood the reason for this rule.

"What are you doing?" Bruce's sudden voice didn't scare you, you were used to your husband's sudden appearances. "Running away from the children," you said, sitting down in the chair opposite Bruce's desk.

You started distributing your papers on the table in an organized way so that they wouldn't get mixed up with your husband's documents and for the first time since you entered the room he looked up from the documents he was reviewing.

"What's this?" He asked, picking up one of the papers on the table. "They're really your children," Bruce ignored his comment. "Letters? For what reason?" "Yeah, I'm planning to run away and leave you with the kids" Your joke was met by a serious look from Bruce. "You're not as funny as you think" Bruce said. "Sorry, should I leave the jokes with-?" "Don't even finish that one".

"Why letters?" Bruce said, looking at you like he was being interrogated. "Why not? They're just letters, no big deal." You knew that your anxious rambling had given you away, this was not only one of the best detectives in the world, but also your husband.

"You don't want to tell me?" He was being understanding, but you knew he'd rather know. You took a deep breath before saying, "I'm just afraid of the future." "And does writing letters help?"

"I hope it helps them in the future" Bruce frowned at your answer. "Has something happened, dear?" He asked worriedly. Noticing your husband's fear, you grabbed his hand that was resting on the table "No, not at all" Your tone came out as sweet as possible "I just... I want them to have something to fall back on in the future, that's all, nothing bad has happened, it's just-" Your speech was cut off by a few knocks on the door, followed by the entrance of Alfred the butler.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, the children want to see you, Mrs. Wayne" you thanked the butler for the announcement and turned towards your husband again "I have to go, I'll need a good excuse for them to stop asking questions" You got up and left the room, mentally preparing yourself for the bombardment of questions.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Speech & Language

Milestones Related to Speech and Language

Birth to 5 months

Coos

Vocalizes pleasure and displeasure sounds differently (laughs, giggles, cries, or fusses)

Makes noise when talked to

6 to 11 months

Understands "no-no"

Babbles (says "ba-ba-ba")

Says "ma-ma" or "da-da" without meaning

Tries to communicate by actions or gestures

Tries to repeat your sounds

Says first word

2 to 17 months

Answers simple questions nonverbally

Says 2-3 words to label a person/object (pronunciation may not be clear)

Tries to imitate simple words

Vocabulary of 4-6 words

18 to 23 months

Vocabulary of 50 words, pronunciation is often unclear

Asks for common foods by name

Makes animal sounds ("moo")

Starting to combine words ("more milk")

Begins to use pronouns ("mine")

Uses 2-word phrases

2 to 3 years

Knows some spatial concepts ("in" or "on")

Knows pronouns ("you," "me" or "her")

Knows descriptive words ("big" or "happy")

Uses 3-word sentences

Speech becomes more accurate, but may still leave off-ending sounds. Strangers may not understand much of what is said.

Answers simple questions

Begins to use more pronouns ("you" or "I")

Uses question inflection to ask for something ("my ball?")

Begins to use plurals ("shoes" or "socks"; regular past tense verbs, "jumped")

3 to 4 years

Groups objects, such as foods or clothes

Identifies colors

Uses most speech sounds, but may distort some of the more difficult sounds, such as l, r, s, sh, ch, y, v, z, th. These sounds may not be fully mastered until age 7 or 8.

Uses consonants in the beginning, middle, and ends of words.

Some of the more difficult consonants may be distorted, but attempts to say them

Strangers are able to understand much of what is said

Able to describe the use of objects ("fork" or "car")

Has fun with language; enjoys poems and recognizes language absurdities ("Is that an elephant on your head?")

Expresses ideas and feelings rather than just talking about the world around him or her

Uses verbs that end in "ing" ("walking" or "talking")

Answers simple questions ("What do you do when you are hungry?")

Repeats sentences

4 to 5 years

Understands spatial concepts ("behind" or "next to")

Understands complex questions

Speech is understandable, but makes mistakes pronouncing long, difficult, or complex words ("hippopotamus")

Uses some irregular past tense verbs ("ran" or "fell")

Describes how to do things (e.g., painting a picture)

Lists items that belong in a category (e.g., animals or vehicles)

Answers "why" questions

5 years

Understands time sequences (e.g., what happened first, second...)

Carries out a series of 3 directions

Understands rhyming

Engages in conversation

Sentences can be 8 or more words in length

Uses compound and complex sentences

Describes objects

Uses imagination to create stories

NOTE

The ability to hear is essential for proper speech and language development.

Hearing problems may be suspected in children who are not responding to sounds or who are not developing their language skills appropriately.

The above are some age-related guidelines that may help to decide if your child is experiencing hearing problems.

It's important to remember that not every child is the same.

Children reach milestones at different ages.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ On Children ⚜ Hearing ⚜ Children's Dialogue

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Manx Norton: going over the limit

Contents: 18+ mdni, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, blowjob, deepthroating, throat fucking, swallowing, marks the end of their pre-relationship story

“We need to talk,” you say. 

Geto looks up from his journal, slow and steady like he knew you would come here and at this time. He sets his pen down. His hair is tied up completely today and there are dark bags under his eyes that you can’t bear to look at, so you don’t. Instead, you settle into the seat, without being asked, and you cross your legs and your arms. 

You mean business. 

“Good afternoon, pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

Sighing, you ignore that fluttering in your stomach. There’s no point in getting carried away by his charm; it’s his instinct to be sweet, otherwise he wouldn’t have as many clients as he does. But you’re aware, faintly and right at the very back of your mind, that his words have a bite to them — they’re complimentary whilst also accusatory. 

“I need an explanation, Geto,” you state firmly. 

His left eye twitches. It’s not a flicker or a nervous tick, it’s a flinch. You have the power, just like your sister said, when you were throwing her shoes out of the window, and she was offering advice as a means to fight your murderous intent off. It didn’t work.

There’s always something shifting between you, something unstable, and it’s been difficult to manage — you’re new to relationships, so new to venturing outside your comfort zone that you’ve relied so much on him to guide you. But you’ve also had to step up and make decisions for yourself. 

Your friends weren’t very helpful; they insisted you quit or bring a new man to the studio to make him jealous, and as tempting as it is to be petty, you know they wouldn’t solve anything. It’ll just make you feel bad and icky. 

So, you’ve chosen the high road, providing him the opportunity to share his side, to explain why he let you down once again and why everything between you had been built on a lie.

Nodding, he opens a drawer and takes out a familiar sheet of paper. Then, in a conversational tone, he asks, “What do you see?”

“It’s my CV,” you answer. Truthfully, you have no clue what game he’s playing; there’s something in particular he’s looking for but all you see is the whites of the paper and the lines of ink. 

“Look at it from the perspective of an employer looking to fill a hole in their establishment,” is his reply. 

You’ve heard that tone often, every day, in fact. It’s the tone he uses on clients when he needs to go over payment plans, or on suppliers when he needs to negotiate a new contract. But he’s never used it on you. Distant and devoid of attachment, it makes you feel uneasy. 

Fiddling with a loose thread on your sweater, you furrow your brows as you read over the paper. Geto is leaning back on the chair, hands folded on his lap, the pinnacle of confidence. That used to be so attractive. Now, you’re just a little peeved off. You were supposed to be the confident one; you came here on your own volition, even prepared a speech you practised with your sister.

You should have known he’d sweep the rug from under you. 

Frustrated, you groan and smack the sheet. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to see! I have no time for this.”

Smiling reassuringly, Geto doesn’t bat an eye at your outburst and instead, begins a lecture, “What I saw was a CV lacking in relevant work experience. In fact, you had very little experience. Your most recent job was in high school, when you worked as a librarian’s assistant for a day. The other things on there were debate club and a certificate for being a neighbourhood ‘sweetheart’, and I’m not even sure what that means.”

“Oh.”

To your embarrassment, he laughs. A blush is growing on your face and suddenly you’re very aware of how some strands of hair are sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, how the sweater you’re wearing is a little scratchy and that maybe, just maybe, you’ve overreacted terribly.

Maybe you should have confronted him sooner. Perhaps just as soon as you overheard him tell Miguel that your sister owes him a favour for hiring you. However, in your defence, you were feeling a little hurt from having been left at the restaurant — you waited for an hour, watching people pass by and give you sympathetic looks as you sent text after text to a man too busy with a client to realise time passed by. 

A week has gone by since then, and you haven’t come to work at all, you dodged every text and call from Geto and ignored him when he showed up on campus and had the nerve to get upset that you’re hanging out with a classmate. Your sister tried to defend him, and herself, but you weren’t willing to hear her out. On many occasions, you’ve told her to butt out, to leave you to make mistakes and get hurt, because it’s your prerogative. 

She can’t protect you from everything and the more she tries, the harder you all learn that lesson. 

“Okay, fine. So, my CV sucks a little,” you huff, “but you should have never hired me under the pretence that I was good enough when the real reason was because my sister asked you. It’s unfair on me. I wanted to earn this job on my own and you two went behind my back to manipulate this whole situation!”

The man sighs and leans forward. You smell his cologne and it’s muddling your mind a little, so you lean back, away from him. He notices. “I understand you’re upset. And I’m sorry to have colluded with your meddling sister. But it really isn’t what you think, pretty girl.”

You hate how patient he sounds, like you’re the crazy one. And maybe you are. You don’t know anymore. In fact, you’re starting to think you know nothing at all. 

“Yes, it’s true she asked me to give you a job. But all I promised her was that I’ll give you a chance, like everyone else. And when you came for the interview, I thought a lot of things. One was that you are so different from your sister. Different from the people that tend to come through the door, from me. You’re much brighter, much warmer and lighter than everyone I’ve ever seen.”

There’s something in his eyes, a sincerity that makes you breathless. All the air has left the room and you’re leaning in without even realising it. Everything that he says is entrancing, he’s a pied piper playing a tune that fills your soul with a fire you can’t put out, and he’s leading you closer to him, away from everything you’ve ever known, away from safety and reason. 

You’re not afraid. 

“I had a look at your CV and thought, there’s no way I would hire you, not even if she begged or blackmailed me — I take great pride in my studio, I turned it from a little backroom space with flickering lights to what it is now. My clients trust me to provide quality service from beginning to end, and I will not let a woman, no matter how beautiful, get in the way of that.”

Geto reaches for your cheek, like he can’t help himself, and you let him. His hands are slightly calloused but otherwise smooth and soft. And that smile, the polite one he always wears, is gone. In its place is something that reflects how you feel, how you’ve both been feeling for a long time now. A frustration against the distance between you, the boundary that’s erected itself between employer and employee, boss and receptionist, and a man who’s seen it all versus a girl who knows so little. 

You aren’t meant to be. Everything about this relationship is wrong, it’s inadvisable, foolish, like Hades and Persephone, or Eros and Psyche. It’s a tragic love story doomed from the very beginning, the kind people talk about centuries later with a mix sense of awe and pity. You know all about it, have read so many variations of the same story with the same individuals who think they know everything, who believe they’re different, special and that the Fates will smile fondly on them. 

Except neither you nor Suguru are under the impression that you’re different, that this will turn out differently and that the cards you’ve been dealt are from a separate, fresh deck. You both know you’re playing a dangerous game. 

Neither of you care. 

“But then I talked to you. And you were so witty, so undeterred by my unrelenting questions, and so willing to learn as you go. You had the confidence of someone who’s worked a thousand jobs, who’s met a thousand people that, despite knowing better, I wanted to hire you on the spot.”

Carefully, with your eyes fluttering shut at the tentative touch of your skin, you breathe out, “Suguru, we shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

When your eyes open, you see his gorgeous, tortured eyes fall to your lips and you know what you want. 

Your lips meet his.

This kiss is so similar to the one you shared that night, but oh so new. It seems so long ago now, and when you feel his plush lips devour yours it feels like this is new to both of you and it urges you to push in further. His tongue touches yours and you don’t hesitate to intertwine it, to explore all that he’s laying out for you. 

Gasping for breath, you pull away with little success before he’s grasping the back of your neck and urging you over the desk, kneeing the papers there and hearing the pens and stapler fall to the floor with a dull clatter, you sit onto the desk and you hear his chair slam against the wall when he stands to press himself closer to you. He kisses you again. 

“Things work differently with me,” he says in between pecks to your lips. 

Whilst his mouth moves to your jaw, sucking at the skin by your ear, you giggle. “I know. My sister says you like control. Something about Christian Grey.”

Chuckling in your ear before nipping you there, he admits, “I’m not as insane as him. In truth, I don’t really know what I am, but I know it’s more intense than what most men ask for.”

“That’s okay, Suguru. We can work it out together, step by step.”

He kisses your pulse point. You moan. Goosebumps are rising along your arms; your back is arching to press as much of you closer to him. You’re barely capable of creating a single train of thought, you feel so lightheaded you don’t register how your legs are wrapping around his hips. 

“My smart girl,” Suguru muses against your skin. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hip, pulling him close until you can feel the bulge there push against your core. With a roll of your hips, the zipper of his jeans nudges your bundle of nerves. You gasp. And you seek out that pleasure again with slow, gradual grinds. 

Breathlessly, you say, “Suguru…”

He’s scraping his teeth against your pulse point, one hand kneading your thigh and the other holding himself up. Filling your senses, all you can think about is him and how there’s a growing pressure within that’s dying to be released. 

“Go on, pretty girl. Take what you need.” Tightening your legs around his hips, you grind harder, frustrated that there are layers between you. Your arch your back, chest rubbing against his. Like he knows what you want, his hand finds your breast, squeezing and groping. “No bra? Are you sure you came here to talk, angel?”

When his thumb brushes over your nipple, you cry out, body tightening as that coil inside snaps. You spasm, grinding hastily to draw out your pleasure. It’s much better than you any could have given yourself and you’re addicted. Hand flying to his hair, you thread it through, brushing out his hair tie until his silky hair cascades down.

He groans. 

In a blink of an eye, you’re being pulled and pushed down onto your knees. You grip his thighs, blinking fast as you desperately try to regain your bearings. 

“You’re asking for trouble, sweet thing. Can you handle it?” Suguru asks, a challenge glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. 

You bite your lip, thighs squeezing to subdue the regrowing aching there. With a sudden bravery, your hands make their way up, revelling in the marble like strength in his muscles before they find his zip. 

Hesitating, you feel something holding you back, an instinct within awakening. Awkwardly, you question, “May I?”

His smile widens, surprise flickering in his eyes, and then he’s threading his hands through your hair. It’s a rewarding pat, one full of warmth, and it’s empowering. 

“Such a good girl. You’re a perfect little angel, aren’t you?” He coos. “Of course you may, my pretty girl. Go on, go at your own pace.”

Nodding, you unzip his jeans, tugging it down with his boxers. And what springs out leaves your mouth watering. It’s huge and intimidating. It’s bad enough that he’s well-endowed, but nothing about him is typical. He’s different to the average man in every way. 

Starting with the metal piercing the underside of his dick, emerging through the head. 

Seeing the horrified look on your face, he chuckles, the hair soothing your head delving down to pinch your chin. Unperturbed by your reaction, likely expecting it, he explains, “I got it done a year ago, mostly as a dare. It took around nine weeks to heal and yes, it did hurt.”

“B-but I-I can’t,” you stammer and shake your head, adding, “there’s just n-no way.”

Suguru sighs, thumb grazing your cheek. “You don’t need to. I understand this is too much too soon, but I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You’re more than capable.”

You don’t want to disappoint him. And you want to prove you can do whatever you set your mind to. Recalling one of your sister’s drunken admissions, you know the trick is to pinch your thumb, so you don’t gag, to breathe through your nose and take a little at a time. 

“Okay, okay. I can do it.”

He gathers your hair and keeps them out of the way. Slowly, you wrap your hand around the base, gasping at the way your fingers barely touch. With no particular method in mind, you explore his length, thumb following a vein from bottom to top. He’s hot in your hand, almost burning, and the tip is shining with what you know to be pre-cum. 

It’s pearly white and you can’t wait to know what it tastes like; you lean in and scoop up the drop with your tongue. You both groan. 

Salty, you mull the taste over. It isn’t bad. And suddenly, you no longer feel scared. Your tongue fiddles with the bent metal barbell, surprisingly not minding the cold sensation against your hot tongue. 

“That’s it,” he groans, grip on your hair tightening. 

You widen your jaw, suckling the head, tongue pressing against the slit before it circles around, grinding the barbell back and forth. He groans louder, deep breaths vibrating through the room. 

When you push in further, you make the mistake of doing it too fast. You gag, eyes tearing up. 

“Slowly, pretty. Slowly. There’s no rush, okay?”

Coughing, you nod weakly, feeling embarrassed. Recovering your breath, you go back in, slower. Eventually, you work up a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down, taking more and more of him but never quite making it further than halfway. 

Both hands on your head, he soothes your tears away with his thumb before he advises, “Relax your throat, sweet thing. I’ll guide you, is that alright?”

You tap his thighs twice in a yes. 

And then he’s pushing in, more and more until he’s filling your throat, muscles stretching to take him in. Tearing up once more, you mentally swallow that panic rising, the claustrophobia within forcing your nails into his bare thighs. 

“You’re doing so well, angel. So good -ngh- for me, hmm?”

Suguru pulls back, the piercing scraping your tongue. And then he pushes back in. Again and again, he builds up to a rhythm, allowing you to get used to it, before he gives you more of him. 

This is so overwhelming, the feeling of his piercing bumping at the back of your throat, the ache in your jaw at the stretch, and the salty taste filling your senses. All you can see and feel and hear and taste is Suguru. You can’t get enough of him. 

So, when he bottoms out, your lips tickling his skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head just as his do. 

“I’m going to cum, pretty. Do you want to pull out?” He asks, pleasure written all over his face, the veins in his arm bulging at his barely constrained urge to fuck your throat freely. Knowing that he’s so in control, so concerned over you, when he could use you how he pleased, could take what he wants makes you so wet. 

You blink rapidly. 

“No? Are you sure you -ha- can take it? I won’t let you spit it out,” he warns. 

Sucking your cheeks in, you suction him closer. His cock head is rubbing the back of your throat, piercing burning, and with a shallow thrust, he’s cumming down your throat. 

Hot liquid fills your mouth. 

Suguru pulls out and you swallow the thick cream he leaves in your mouth. Your head slumps against his thigh, gasping for breath, heaving like you’ve just ridden a rollercoaster. 

Hands tucking themselves under your arms, he lifts you onto his lap just as he sits back on his chair, boxers pulled up before you even realise what position you’re in now. 

He rubs your back, muttering encouraging words about how perfect you were, how amazing you did, and how he knew you’d do well for him. 

“Open,” he orders, bottom lip pulled down by his thumb. He inspects your mouth and smiles at what he sees. “Good girl.”

And then he’s kissing you, tasting both yours and his essence. 

“No wonder Miguel gave me a funny look when I asked how many piercings you have,” you whisper against his lips, a high pulsing through your veins. 

Suguru chuckles. “He’s a good guy, did all my piercings. Eased all my concerns every time and I knew I wanted him in my studio.”

You nod. 

Your eyes are heavy and you’re hiding your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, and pondering the change between you. You’ve accepted that you’re entering an unconventional relationship, that he’s going to introduce you to a world none of your friends had seen a glimpse of, but you won’t be navigating it by yourself. 

He’ll lead you just as he had when you first started working here. 

Softly, gently and with so much patience, you’ll be free to stumble as often as you need until you know who you are, what you want, and what you need to be.

“Get some sleep, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

Is the last thing you hear before you fall deeper into sleep in his arms.

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

[mymindisneverhere]

warnings: 18+, SMUT, dirty talk, unprotected sex, & more but don’t say I ain’t warn you.

Summary: Aaron is head of an architect firm who just hired a new assistant who is very nervous yet severely attracted to him.

(this is my first time writing one of these but I had to cause this man got me in a chokehold. enjoy!) 🩵

Assistance

She watched as his back muscles flexed with every rep. He had been exercising for the past 30 minutes and she didn’t want to interrupt but this was an emergency. Meagan had been Mr. Pierre’s assistant for 3 months now and she was enjoying her time with him. He was a kind yet stern gentleman who took his business endeavors very seriously. He needed her to send the final blueprints of a new building his architect firm would be preparing to build this coming fall. The deadline was in an hour and there were still bits and pieces of information missing. She knew how much this meant to her boss but she also knew how much his private workout routines meant to him as well.

She didn't mean to stare but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his glistening body. This man was sculpted by the creator themselves. Every muscle flexed perfectly and the veins in his arms went well with his masculine physique. She studied his movements as he brought both of his arms up and down above his head, doing what they called “Shoulder Press”. After a few more reps he slammed the dumbbells down and leaned forward to catch his breath. She had been in such a trance that she didn’t notice him looking up to see her staring in the mirror.

“Do you like your job?” He asked in a stern tone.

”Uh y-yes.” She stammered, shaking her head to bring herself back into the present moment, pushing her curly hair behind her ears.

”Then I suggest you get back to it then.” He stated, reaching for a towel and throwing it over his shoulder.

“Um, Mr. Pierre sir, th-there are a few details missing from the blueprints. We h-have an hour and uh, I-I didn’t want to send them t-to the contractors until-“ She stuttered. She hated when this happened. She’d get so nervous that her words would struggle to leave her mouth. She always struggled with her speech impediment since a child but it had gotten better over the years, that is until she met Mr. Pierre.

He walked over to her grabbing the papers from her hand reviewing the layouts of the new fine arts museum that would be built right in the center of downtown. As he looked over the paperwork the two sat in silence. Well he was silent but he could hear her struggling to breathe as he stood a few inches away from her. He made her nervous and he liked it. It wasn’t anything new to him though.

Being the man that he was with a million dollar business caused women to gawk at the sight of him. What he didn’t enjoy about these women were the ones who were obviously bothered by his presence but chose to put on a front. He knew that he could be intimidating and he hadn’t done it on purpose. But the women who tried so hard to match his aura always failed tremendously. The over talking, over sexualizing themselves, practically throwing themselves at him when they weren’t even prepared for the type of man he was, irritated him.

But his assistant, Meagan, was a different story. She’d get nervous from time to time when speaking with him but she’d never force herself to hide it. He’d notice that she’d take a few deep breaths, take a sip of water and then get right back to it like she never missed a beat. He liked that. He had to admit watching her struggle around him fed his ego a bit.

He looked to her and handed her the papers, giving her the corrections to make before sending it off to be finalized.

“Is that all?” He asked, staring down at her with a stern expression.

“Yes sir, thank you.” She grabbed the papers with a steady hand, slowly to be sure she didn’t drop them or make it obvious that he had her shook. She placed the folder with the paperwork under her arm and turned to leave his in-home gym.

He stood watching her walk away, admiring her natural body from her defined hips that slightly dipped into deep dimples to her voluptuous ass. No matter how many pairs of tights she’d wear, they would never stop the natural jiggle that happened when she’d walk. He felt his dick jump in his workout tights and he knew he had to have her. He immediately grabbed his phone and made his way to his bedroom to shower.

Meagan sat at the kitchen island, her fingers going a mile a minute as she sent email after email. They had done it, they had just secured the lot for the new Museum of Fine Arts and this meant Mr. Pierre would have a large check coming to him very soon. This was her first big win as his assistant and she couldn’t decide how she would celebrate. Although she couldn’t focus on celebrating because every time she did, images of him flashed in her mind. Images of him in the gym, images of him staring down at his sketches for the new buildings, images of him fucking her-

“Did you get it to them on time?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts. She silently thanked him before responding.

“Uh yes sir.” She replied. She turned the laptop toward him so he could see for himself. “Everything is confirmed, the deal is done!” She said looking up at him. Her eyes were so soft and pleading, almost childlike. It’s like she wanted to impress him badly. She wanted to finally get the approval she had been working for these past 3 months.

“Good job.” He said dryly.

She frowned a bit, somewhat in confusion and frustration. What was with this guy? She had just helped him secure one of the biggest deals for his firm and all he could say was “Good job”. She turned the laptop back toward her and went back to doing her daily emailing.

As she confirmed meetings and lunches for him she tried to sneak a peek at him but he was already staring at her. She didn’t know what this meant but she was afraid she’d be in the unemployment line real soon. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at her. When the silence went on for longer than she expected her mind went into overdrive. She couldn’t be getting fired, they had just closed a 7 figure deal, but she did overstep a boundary by going into his gym without his permission. But it was an emergency, hell it was for his business. He couldn’t have been that much of an asshole.

”Look Mr. Pierre, I-I’m sorry about coming into the g-gym without your permission. I just d-didnt want to mess up y-your b-big-“ She struggled to get out before he interrupted her.

”Breathe.” He suggested.

She stared down at her hands as she took a few deep breaths before mustering up the courage to meet his stern gaze again.

“You’re not in trouble.” He said, calming her mind first and her body second. He studied her as he watched her chest rise up and down slowly. Her jaw became unclenched and her shoulders more relaxed.

He looked down at his watch to see the time was nearly 11p.m., it was too late to send her on her way. He had enough bedrooms in this house, she could just pick one to rest for the night and be on her way in the morning.

“I don’t want you driving back home so late tonight.” He spoke.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s no prob-“

”That’s an order.” He interrupted. “I wouldn’t be a man if I let you leave so late, I know you have a far drive to make.”

She nodded, refusing to look him in the eye.

“You know your way around the house, you can stay in a guest suite tonight.” He said before leaving the kitchen. “Great job by the way.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“You’ll be around for a while so get comfortable.” He finished, leaving her in the kitchen alone.

Once she heard his footsteps become silent, indicating that he was no longer within ears reach, she jumped up in celebration. That is exactly what she wanted to hear.

”Yes!” She yelled, covering her mouth. She giggled to herself as she grabbed her laptop off of the island and made her way up to one of the guest suites.

After placing her things in the chair that sat near the window, she unbuttoned her dress shirt and kicked off her heels. She chose to stay in the guest suite on the far west wing of the house, it was in the opposite wing from his bedroom. She walked into the large bathroom that was attached to the suite and turned on the lights. She looked over to see a walk in shower and a large garden tub. She had chosen to take a shower instead, she was already a guest in his house, the last thing she needed to do was spend hours in his bathtub.

She turned on the faucet, pulling it all the way left to get the water as hot as possible. That was the only way she’d take showers. Closing the shower door, she walked over to the mirror to continue removing her clothes while the water warmed to her liking. She got down to her bra and panties, a matching set, as she admired her reflection. When she unbuttoned her bra, causing her natural 34 C’s to drop a bit, the images began to flash in her mind. Only this time she had imagined Mr. Pierre in the bathroom with her, staring at her with those icy blue eyes that sent chills down her spine.

This made her pussy tingle. The thought of her tall, broad shouldered, smooth skin, no nonsense boss staring at her with pure hunger and desire. Him touching all over her body, feeling her breasts in his big hands, feeling his soft lips on her neck. Her fantasies were making her wet but it was fine because she would hop right in the shower to wash her lustful thoughts away.

She stepped out of her panties and into the shower, letting the hot water run down her body. Her hands ran up and down her figure as she tried hard to stop the fantasies of her boss joining her in the shower. She had pictured what he’d look like naked a few times, she had already gotten half of the picture today when she saw him shirtless. His toned arms, each one covered in a single tattoo, his chiseled chest, his brown nipples, his defined abs and that V cut that she had stared down at while he reviewed the blueprints. She knew that V cut led to a heavy dick, carved with thick veins and a head that would feel soft against her lips.

She was so deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that her hands had been playing in her pussy. Her middle finger and ring finger toyed with her clit as her hands began to wrinkle from the wetness her boss had brought her and he didn’t even know. As she played with her pussy she imagined his tongue there.

“Fuck.” She had let out a moan, sure that she wouldn’t be heard. She was positive that the water would drown out her cries.

“You feel so good in my pussy Mr. Pierre.” She said aloud, not worried about being heard by him or the house keepers. “Eat this pussy Daddy.”

She moaned and groaned, begging and pleading for her boss to make her cum until she came all over his face in her mind, her fingers in reality. After a few breaths she opened her eyes to realize where she was and that she needed to get clean so she could get some sleep.

A few minutes passed and the water was turned off. She stepped out of the shower, one foot at a time before realizing she had no towel to dry off with. She searched through the drawers in the sink vanity and found nothing but toothbrushes and toothpaste. Not a towel in sight.

“Shit.” She said to herself. She needed to dry off but stepping outside of this bathroom uncovered was too much of a risk for her. She didn’t even want to think of being caught by the house keepers let alone her boss. She sat thinking for a few minutes, contemplating on whether or not she should just air dry and slip on the pajama sets he had stored in the nightstand next to the bed. She hated air drying in the bathroom though, it was so wet and humid, she needed to get out of there.

Once she remembered his beautiful mansion came with intercoms in each room she figured she'd just politely ask for some towels to be left outside of the door. Finally satisfied with her plan, she headed for the bathroom door. When she swung the door open her heart sank as she met his blue eyes first. Her boss, Mr. Pierre stood on the other side of the door staring down at her.

Panic was written all over her face as she remembered she had just orgasmed to the thought of him eating her. She had called out his name and many other things, confident that she wouldn’t be heard. But by the look on his face, she knew he had heard everything.

“I remembered the housekeepers didn’t stock this bathroom with towels, so I thought I’d bring you some.” He started, still staring down at her with those beautiful eyes, that seem to change to a light hazel color now. He walked into the bathroom causing her to step back until her back hit the wall near the shower.

“Did you need me for something?” He smirked, towering over her. Her 5’4 frame didn’t stand a chance under his 6’3 build.

She stood there speechless, she didn’t know what to say. She was too embarrassed to speak. No matter how hard he stared at her, she refused to meet his eyes. So she stood staring at his chest, his muscular and defined chest.

“I- um, I- was j-“ She struggled, this time understandably.

He bent down, burying his face into her neck, sucking on her vanilla scented skin. She was still so caught off guard, not coming to terms with the fact that her fantasies were coming true in real time. He dropped the towels and reached down to grab her legs, wrapping them around his waist. He sucked and licked on her neck, planting kisses all over her.

“Sir, I-I didn’t m-mean to-“ She stuttered, struggling to breathe correctly or at all.

“Don’t be nervous now.” He mumbled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “This what you wanted right?” He pulled her off of the wall and sat her on the bathroom sink.

“Um…” She managed.

“Right?” He asked, looking into her eyes, demanding a response.

She looked up at him before taking a deep breath and responding “Yes.”

“Yes what?” He asked, still staring intensely at her.

“Yes sir.” She breathed.

He smirked. He enjoyed having women at his mercy but this woman was different. He didn’t expect her to be pleasuring herself to the thought of him. She appeared innocent and sweet but that was clearly a front. She craved him just as much as he craved her.

He looked down at her freshly waxed pussy still glistening as a result of her own pleasures. He licked his lips as he admired the sight of her body in front of him. He didn’t know where to start, he just knew he didn’t want to go wrong with this masterpiece that sat waiting to be devoured by him.

She looked down at his sweatpants and saw his print. She wanted so badly to find out what he felt like, what he tasted like, how his dick would feel hitting the back of her throat. Without hesitation she stood from the sink and dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers around his waist before pulling his pants down, coming face to face with his dick. It was exactly how she imagined, thick, brown and beautiful. She grabbed his length with her hand, noticing the precum that sat right at the head.

She licked the sweet cum off of him, locking eyes with her boss as she did so. He was taken aback at the sight of his once nervous and jittery assistant who was now bold and fearless. He was used to being the dominant in the situation, he would have his women responding to his touch and the feeling of his tongue in their pussy. But this night was a total 180, he found himself being the subject of a woman who had dreamed of devouring him months ago.

She licked the entirety of his dick before taking him into her mouth, wrapping her lips around his hardness. She jerked her neck back and forth, her tongue rubbing against the bottom of his dick so that he could feel only the wetness and warmth of her mouth. She sucked and slurped, moaning out of pure satisfaction and enjoyment. She watched as his face frowned in pure bliss. He had placed his hands on her head to help guide her but she didn’t need any guidance. She could tell by the look on his face he wanted something more, but he was in too much ecstasy to bring himself to say it.

“Fuck my face.” She said, rubbing the head of his penis against her full lips that were covered in spit. She liked the fact that she was watching her super tough super masculine boss fold at her touch, it was all because of her.

He tightened the grip on her head and forced himself into her mouth touching the back of her throat. She relaxed the muscles in her neck so that he could get better access, all the access he hoped for. He fucked her face, pumping in and out of her mouth pausing when he got all of himself into her. This caused her to gag slightly, building more saliva in her mouth which would make for an even better experience. He thrusted his hips back and forth, pausing between strokes to trigger her gag reflex. He loved the sound of her struggling to take all of him in. The more she gagged, the more tears built in her eyes. Before she knew it, the tears had fallen and the spit that built in her throat and ran down her neck onto her breasts.

This sight caused him to clench his jaw reluctantly. His assistant who he perceived as innocent had turned into a slut all because of him. The way she moaned as if she was the one being pleasured, the way her eyes would roll into her head and then focused back into his, hedidn’t want to cum just yet but the way she locked eyes with while he fucked her pretty face sent him over the edge. How she sat and took in every inch of him without tapping out made him let out a loud groan before sending his nut down her throat.

”Fuuuuuck!” He groaned, holding her head in place as he rode out his orgasm. She sat still as he struggled to catch his breath, her eyes still locked onto his. He pulled out of her and took a few breaths, still coming down from his climax. She swallowed every single drop of him.

“Stand up.” He demanded, his voice deep and impatient.

She stood with a slight smirk on her face, proud of her performance. In a swift motion she spun around facing the mirror as he kicked her legs open and slightly bent her over the sink. His hand was still wrapped tightly around her curls so this sudden change in position was all his doing. He pressed himself into her ass while he eyed her through the mirror. He could see that this had caught her off guard, the ball was now back in his court. He stared down at her ass, biting his lip in anticipation.

“Don't get nervous now.” She said, eyeing him through the mirror, a small smirk on her face again.

Without warning he pushed himself into her slowly until all of him was inside of her, every single inch. She let out a small wince from pain from the size of his dick. It had been a while since she’d had any, let alone one this size. With a hand full of curls in his left hand, he pulled her head back wrapping the other around her throat as he began to fuck her from behind. The sound of her ass slapping against him and the wetness from her pussy sent her into another realm. It was so good, better than she’d imagined.

He stroked her pussy, barely tightening the grip he had on her lower jaw. He pulled in and out of her, slamming himself into her with a quick thrust and then returning back to his steady pace. As he began to roll his hips into her, he saw her face twist in complete pleasure.

”Is this how you wanted it?” He said into her ear.

“Mhmm.” She replied, still so caught up in the pleasure she was getting from him.

“Use your words.” He said, tightening the hold he had on her hair.

“Yes sir.” She quickly responded.

“Good girl.” He spoke into her ear.

She felt him moving in and out of her, his dick hitting every spot with every stroke. She could feel the head of his dick rub against her spot over and over again. It was only a matter of time before she would cum all over him like she had imagined for months. The more he spoke into her ear, the crazier he was driving her. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it. His deep and calm tone right in her ear sent sensations to her clit, it was so swollen that it damn near stung from pleasure.

“You gone cum on this dick for me?” He asked, tightened the grip he had around her neck.

“Yes!” That was all she could manage at the moment.

“Cum on this dick baby.” He said into her ear, still hitting that spot that made her eyebrows wrinkle in pleasure.

She could feel her stomach tightening and pussy began to contract around him, she was cumming.

“Yes daddy, I’m cummin’” She yelled out in pleasure. He continued stroking her, feeling her creamy goodness run down his dick and onto his balls. He wanted all of her, he wouldn’t leave her until she was completely undone. He slowed his pace giving her time to come down from her orgasm before he made her cum again.

After a few long and slow strokes, he gradually picked up his pace aiming for another climax from her.

“Oh fuck yes!” She cried out. She had never cum multiple times in one day. For her orgasms to be back to back like this, there was no way she would ever meet anyone else who would top him.

”Give me that shit.” He spat, his lips brushing her earlobe. He needed his demands to send blood rushing right to her pussy.

”Yes!” She screamed, cumming all over him once again. Her clit jumped as her pussy throbbed naturally after her second orgasm. Even after that powerful flood that ran down her legs, he still hadn’t stopped stroking.

“I can’t.” She said, pleading for him to let her come down.

“Yes you can.” He said, now picking up the pace. His strokes became harder and faster, this time it was his turn to become undone and he wasn’t stopping until he did so. He fucked her like he was running a marathon and he could see the finish line a few feet away.

“Please.” She begged. Her hearing was starting to fade and breathing was becoming harder and harder by the second. On one hand she wanted a break, she needed a break from all of this back to back pleasure. But for some reason she didn’t want him to stop, she could feel his dick throb in her pussy. She knew he was about to cum and she wanted to have the last laugh.

“I’m almost there baby.” He said, his eyes closed as he felt the nut build in his lower abdomen. She watched in amazement as his face turned in pleasure. She took this opportunity to watch him fold yet again.

“Cum in my pussy daddy.” She moaned.

That was it. He leaned forward, placing his lips on her neck, closing his eyes even tighter than before. He grinded deeply into her until he felt his muscles in his stomach flex.

”Fuck!” He groaned into her neck as he shot his cum deep into her pussy. He stroked forcefully until he felt all of himself empty inside of her, before stopping and letting go of her hair.

There they rested against the bathroom counter struggling to catch their breath, holding onto each other for dear life. After a few minutes they both opened their eyes and stared at each other through the mirror.

“Sleep in my room tonight.” He began. “Or you’re fired.” He finished, pulling himself out of her and leaving the room.

She felt her knees buckle as she struggled to keep herself upright.

”I love my job.” She said to herself.

(I hope y’all liked it 😭 excuse any mistakes)

🩵

[nayaesworld]

Mafioso

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Warnings: Murder, manipulation, drugs and violence

Terry Richmond X OC!Marina

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The collective clink of champagne glasses filled the large venue as self-made millionaire and philanthropist Terry Richmond concluded his speech at the second annual charity event for Black women and children. Thunderous claps and cheers bounced off the walls as he exited the stage and came down to thank each and every single person that had come out to support and donate to the amazing cause. He was elated and proud of the turnout; truly grateful.

At 43 Terry felt at the height of his career. The comings and goings of life reflected well on his face and he carried all those trials and triumphs with him on his sleeve next to his heart. His story was a story of the people.

The night was a huge success. A large volume of high profile people had pledged and donated to this cause right along with him. Close family and friends came out in support and he circled around the room checking in on them and taking breaks to hit a shimmy or two on the dance floor.

He had also allowed some of his favorite black journalists and reporters to give interviews, but he was most interested in one in particular that had been very vocal and fierce about the safety of black children in spaces that society deemed not fit for them. How many times had a black child been harmed or put in a traumatic situation due to racism? Far too many times to count and they deserved a space to perfect their crafts without fear or judgement.

Marina Evans was a woman of poise, integrity, and culture, and at 25 she was at the top of her game. Not many could deny her journalistic credentials. She was the first person he wanted to give an interview to tonight and he sought her out quickly through the sea of people. The bold black gown had been a wondrous choice against her bronzed skin. Honey blond braids highlighting the warm undertones of her skin and dark expressive eyes styled with a natural set of wispy lashes. She was a show stopper. A true beauty.

She had just ended an interview with Weston Troy, a filthy rich middle aged man that owned a few hospitals in the area. Her eyes drifted over to him and she began to set up for his interview. A warm welcoming smile graced her face and he made sure to return it. Cameras and microphone ready, Terry adjusted his black suit and freed his mind.

“Tonight I am here speaking with local philanthropist and founder of ‘Hearts of Grace’ a charity founded to give aid and relief to underprivileged families…and without further ado I’d like to welcome Mr. Terry Richmond. How are you feeling about the turnout tonight… did you project the earnings for year two to surpass year one by so much?”

“ I’m feeling amazing tonight, the turnout was more than I could have ever imagined. When I initially started this charity I had no idea that anyone would ever give money to the cause at such a high volume, it's too often that things within the affiliation of the black community are not taken seriously or into consideration… I would like to change that, and with all the resources at my hand I'd be foolish not to invest it into people who look like me and sound like me.”

“I love that, what you did here tonight was jaw dropping. The kind of things I want to see more of, what does it mean for you to give back and support black families,businesses, and neighborhoods?” He pondered a bit before answering and pulled his lip from his teeth.

“It means that I have an opportunity to cater to and serve these underprivileged families, I too come from very humble beginnings. I grew up in a single parent household, it was just me and my mother so sharing this wealth with many people is top priority.”

“Terry, that is just amazing, I’m excited for more people to hear your story… for you it's been a long time coming, but for many of us this is our first time seeing someone who we relate to so much do as many great things as you have…and that brings me to my next question. How does being a role model to the younger generation speak to you?” Her questions were definitely living up to her reputation, she asked the real shit and he paused to gather his words, this was a passionate subject for him so finding the right words was essential.

“Being a role model for the younger generation entails a particular type of character and finesse… I want them to know that yes hard work and dedication can afford you the luxuries of life, but I also want them to understand that mental health is just as important um..if not more important than any career field or industry they choose.”

“I also saw that you named your charity after your mother Grace, how does it feel tonight to share this with her… I’m sure she is so proud of you.”

“My mother means the world to me…for any time I was ever in trouble or needed her she picked up the phone, she lifted me up, and she molded me into the man I am today. I don’t care how old I get or how many things I achieve, I'll always be her baby.”

“It was such a pleasure to interview you tonight, I thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to allow me to talk and pick your brain.” Marina had interviewed many men and women of different backgrounds and profiles, but none had ever struck her as truly genuine people quite as he did. He truly meant those words.

“Oh no anytime..you’ve had the best questions I thank you for that. And when I’m ready for another interview I know how to find you, thank you for coming out tonight Ms.Evans I truly appreciate it.” Terry left it plainly at that. He didn’t wanna seem weird by telling the young girl that he was an avid viewer of her podcast and hadn’t missed any episodes thus far.

The night carried on and people filled their bellies to the brim with liquor and a catered banquet of savory mouth watering food. Terry was on his second plate of food and had been cackling loudly in his mothers ear, all tipsy and giggly from the constant glasses of champagne.

“Boy you are just tickled to death ain’t you, what’s so funny son?” He rested his head onto her shoulder and squeezed her into a warm hug.

“I’m just happy ma..that’s it. Tonight turned out amazing and I get to honor you right along with it..I hope you’re proud.”

“Son is proud even the word for what I feel? You make me ecstatic, I hoped and prayed for so many long nights for you to have something…anything to call your own, and look at you now.” Grace pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before standing from her seat.

“Walk your mama to her car, I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Terry walked his mother to her car and watched her disappear into the distance before he walked back into the building. Standing with his hands in the pockets of his smooth slacks, he surveyed the area with calm eyes. He was looking for someone. Ahh there she is. Honey blond braids swaying gently behind her as she rocked in her chair to the music. Headed in her direction he grabbed a freshly poured glass of champagne from the table and handled the delicate glass in his hands carefully.

Cognac eyes met his as he finally made it into her line of vision. “Champagne? I wasn’t aware you were still here Ms.Evans.” Her pretty manicured hand accepted the drink from him and she sipped a little before answering him.

“Yeah I guess I’m a bit of a recluse…I prefer to fade into the background at events like these. Sometimes it’s better to just watch.” Terry hummed in his throat before taking a seat in front of her crossing his left leg over his right.

“And on that point we do agree…for causes such as these I can show up no questions asked, otherwise I’m home nose deep in a good podcast.” His deep rumbling laugh coaxed a cute chuckle from her mouth.

She sipped a little more of the sweet champagne before she answered him. ”Oh wow me too , so you have a favorite one you listen too?”

“Yes…yours. It’s the only one I can sit through and enjoy without a missed episode. You’re great at what you do Ms.Evans…very captivating topics.” Terry watched a hand press to her chest in shock as her mouth fell in shock.

“You watch lil ole’ me, wow Terry I really appreciate that. And I try to make things interesting as well as informative… I'm happy it reaches you well.”

“There’s nothing little about the work you do, remember that.” Maria shyly tilted her head to the side, peeking up into his face from under her lashes.

”Thank you so much Terry, you have the kindest eyes by the way…sorry if that was weird.” He dropped his head and let his eyes lock onto hers and watched her skin heat up under his gaze.

“No no, not weird at all. I receive that..thank you beautiful.”

Terry enjoyed picking her head for the reminder of their time together. By 9pm the event had wrapped and everyone filed out of the large double doors to head home. Terrys large hand graced the small of her back not wanting to lose her in the crowd of people, he hated that their time was cut short because he had really enjoyed chatting with the smart woman.

“Did you drive here?” He looked down at her once they’d made it outside, the middle of people around them creating the perfect bubble for tj to talk.

“Mhmh I did.. I’m right over there, the black Acura.” Her dainty finger pointed at the sleek Acura suv that was coincidentally parallel parked behind his Manhattan Green BMW X6.

“ I’ll walk you..we’re parked right by each other.” Her heels clicked against the dark asphalt and she let a yawn escape her pretty lips.

“Tired Ms.Evans? Sorry to keep you so late, I’m sure you have other obligations.”

“Mhm it’s all the food and champagne getting to me, and no please don’t apologize I had such a nice time tonight… thank you again for extending an invitation to me.” The two stopped in front of her suv and it had Terry wishing he could turn back time.

“And miss an opportunity to talk to the gorgeous and seriously intelligent Marina Evans… not a chance. Thank you for your support, and drive safe.” He helped her step into her vehicle before he closed her door and watched her leave before pulling out his phone to make a call.

“Yeah she just left..keep close to the plan and do exactly what I told y’all to do. I find out you niggas did anything other than what I asked…yall are finished.” He hung up the phone and hopped into his car heading to his house. He knew what he was doing was fucked up, but rarely did Terry ever not get what he wanted. Only this time he wanted Marina Evans and he was willing to stage whatever freak incident he could think of to appear as the white shining knight in her story.

The contemporary home was a perfect mix of neutral earth times and dark greys. Features within the home had donned it with eco friendly and smart house features putting it at a price point of a whopping 1.2 million dollars. A price point Terry would pay and then some for a house that was exclusive to him. The story he told the public about his upbringing was slightly altered and fabricated. The money was only halfway clean, but his appearance needed to be crystal. No past offenses or charges, no run-ins with the police, and no witnesses.

He put people in the dirt for a living and that was just the true facts. The true underground king with an empire spanning throughout the states.A dr. Jekyll and Hyde if you will. The boogeyman. An assassin with the precision to kil. Right now his cousins were ransacking the cute little craftsman style house that belonged to Marina Evans. A sick way of pushing her into his arms he knew but having her would make it all worth the risk.

A new obsession had squirmed its way into Terrys head one night during a masturbation session. The video practically screamed out at him and he had nutted enough that night to fill the Mississippi River; twice,his eyes were glued to the computer screen as he watched the younger woman be pumped full of grown mature dick. The idea had crossed his mind plenty of times, something young and hot to trick on and fuck whenever he wanted to. It seemed maybe he’d be getting his wish sooner or later.

__

Paranoia and fear gripped Marina in the coming days after the charity ball. When she had made it home and into her driveway that night she knew something was off. The linen curtains that lined her French doors to her kitchen blew in the night winds, signaling the doors had been smashed. Eyes wide with fear and shock she held her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She frantically dialed 911 to report a burglary. Her house was a mess, picture frames broken and everything rummaged through. The following nights she spent in the guest room at her moms house, too afraid to sleep in her own house.

She had called into the local newspaper that she worked for letting them know of her unfortunate situation. Work would have to be put on the back burner for a few days right along with her podcast episode. She was still practically new to this neighborhood having only just closed on her home two months prior. It was a quiet safe neighborhood, and all her neighbors had kindly welcomed her into it. But now she wasn’t so sure about it being safe. What if she had been home When this happened, would she have lived to tell the tale?

She felt hopeless and the police had no leads yet. What was life without a curveball? She was currently wrapped up in her mothers guest room

sick with the flu. Coughs and sniffles were the soundtrack of life right now and the pungent smell of Lysol was in the air. She had no appetite and a slight migraine sat at her temples, and yet her phone began to ring excessively loud into her ear.

|“Hello?” She was sure she sounded as stuffy as she looked.

|”Marina..hey sweetheart it’s Terry. I called as soon as I heard the bad news, I’m so sorry.” His deep voice sounded apologetic over the phone and she had almost forgotten the exchanging of numbers almost a week ago at the charity event.

[-My uncle works at the police department..he mentioned your name and burglary in the same sentence and I just had to call and check in on you. I hope I’m not overstepping.

[-No not at all I appreciate you calling me..um yeah it hasn't been the best week for me so far it’d be better if I could find out who did this to my house…and now I’m sick with the flu.She heard shuffling and muffled talking on his end and she sat up further on the headboard of the bed.

[-Let me send you something Marina, a little get well soon basket…if that’s okay with you I can have my assistant drop it to you. Marina pondered a bit, and honestly what was the harm in accepting it?

[-I don’t know Terry, I couldn’t ask you to do that. One day you'll have to let me repay you back for your kindness.

[-I insist, and pay me back in good health.. and let me take you out some time when you’re feeling better. Some time had lapsed and he had seriously caught her off guard with the question.

[-Marina? You don’t have to give me an answer right now… my ego can handle it, trust me.

[-Sometime when I’m better definitely, I’m completely in the dumps right now..but I could definitely use that basket if it’s still on the table.

[-It is..I’ll get my assistant to contact you and get everything delivered to you. Get well Marina I’ll talk to you soon.

The call ended and she finally felt some strength in her to get up and tend to herself. Her braids had been in her bonnet for the last 48 hours and her face looked drained of all her color. She definitely wasn’t in any shape to look Terry’s handsome ass in his face. Her moms house was quiet, and she knew her mother wouldn’t be home from the hospital until 7 that evening so trying to get better was definitely the plan for the next few hours.

As he said, Terry had his assistant message her about her location to send the basket. It arrived well packaged with an aroma that was clearing her nasal passage. Two dozen crimson red roses and a large woven basket was on the front porch waiting for her in less than an hour. She hurriedly sat it on her mothers dining table and pulled the contents from the basket. Each item she was excited to use. Multiple face masks to bring back the color to her face, an expensive looking full body massager, a cozy pajama set, and a container of chicken noodle soup that was still piping hot from the deli uptown.

“How freaking sweet, now these are gifts worth having for sure.”

She sent a picture over to Terry letting him know that everything was revived with the highest appreciation. He hearted her message but didn’t send back a written reply.

__

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out my fucking city?!” Terry let his bloodied fist fly into the man’s face for a third time, he winced and shook his hand quickly before his phone vibrated in his pocket. A picture from Marina showing him the basket had made it to her and would be used gratefully. But she'd have to wait. Terry was in his mode. The kill a nigga and ask questions later mode, he had two run ins prior to this one with the same pesky ass excuse for a human being.

“Pass me my shit, I’m ending this. Motherfuckers need to know that I don’t speak twice.” The heavy gun was laid in his hand and he screwed on the silencer. The man in front of him cried and begged for his life, but time was out for him.

“Mario Brown…I’m sentencing you to death for not obeying the nigga that owns you.” A quick pull of the trigger put a silver bullet right through his head. His crew needed no words as they immediately rolled the body into a tarp to be burned.

Terry shrugged off his suit using it to wipe the blood from his face and neck. He had a warehouse stacked to the brim with cocaine that needed to make it to El Paso, Texas. Terry wasn’t a cliche in the world of drugs, he chose the mafia life willingly; it didn’t choose him. It was all he knew and it was all he’s ever done outside of his coverups, that consisted of real estate and stocks. All three things he needed to know the ins and outs of to keep up the facade. He was no good person and he was no angel. He maneuvered through this life cunning and forcefully, and yet he did so with grace.

Drugs had afforded him the type of access he wanted in life. A payroll full of law enforcement, cars and houses, and the baddest bitches on the continent. But he was getting older and more irritable with it all, and that was bad for business. A man that stayed irritated was a man bad for business, he had stacked and put so much money away his grandchildren’s grandchildren would be rich. And yet having all he had he still longed for a woman to call his, someone to marry and give his last name and kids too. Marina Evans was what he wanted-no needed, and he would pull out any stop to have her.

His clothes would be a pile of ash by the time he finished using the warehouse shower, black and purple bruises littering his back and side from a recent brawl with a new business partner who would ultimately be his way out. He didn’t believe the old heads that told him he only had one way out of this kinda life, he refused to put that shit on himself. Death was not the only way out, past men just didn’t have his sharp mindset and it showed because they all rested eternally in cemeteries.

His matte black Range Rover practically drove itself home. He was worn out and needed food and sleep. Public speakings to keep the wool over the public’s eye and the night time escapades that always ended in a dead body or two lying around, were getting the best of him. For the next month he planned to pull back from the public slowly but surely, only popping out to speak when absolutely necessary. The only person he cared to be around was her. What a fucking joke. Terry knew better about this situation and still refused to do better, he wanted what he wanted. Marina… Just the sound of her name rolling off his tongue enticed him and his dick had jumped multiple times in his pants when she complimented him at the ball.

A pretty lil thing with a good head on her shoulders and outside of wanting to put her through his mattress he was actually genuinely intrigued by her. And when he finally laid down it was her pictures and voice that invaded his privacy so badly he stalked all her socials. Her vibrant colorful pictures on her Instagram page pulled a smile from him, such an interesting girl.

__

The next morning came to Terry in peace. No nightmares and no tossing and turning, he felt well rested above all else and the pain he felt from his bruised body had subsided and drowned out without painkillers. His morning routine came effortlessly and he ended it all with a 30 minute meditation to thoroughly decompress his body to prepare for his day.

He scarfed down a savory bagel sandwich and washed it down with his herbal tea. His agenda for the day was light as planned, he was to be kept updated on the whereabouts of his drugs every hour on the hour and not a second late. A large sum of money was headed his way if shit went smoothly.

His fingers itched to message Marina; so he did. He wanted another try at seeing her. To his surprise she had responded quickly and said she was feeling well enough to meet at her house. She spoke of wanting to replace the broken glass on her French doors so he dressed casually and responded letting her know he’d see her shortly.

His Ford Raptor rounded the block into a cute quaint neighborhood. Children rode their bikes and sprayed each other with water hoses as their parents watched, and the background noise of barking dogs made it all full circle. He spotted Marina’s suv quickly and pulled in alongside it in her driveway. Getting out he noticed her still sitting inside and tapped on her window lightly.

“Hi Terry… I know I look weird still sitting in here. I’m just scared to go alone.” She gave him a bashful smile and opened her driver side door. Black biker shorts showing off her thick thighs and plush lower half, had him shaking his head. A Tupac graphic tee shirt and white sneakers completed her looks and her neat braids rested atop her head in a tight bun.

“Come on I’ll go with you, nobody will mess with you while I’m here I promise.” She obliged and walked side by side with him to the side of her house where the doors were. Terry measured where the glass was supposed to be and got the measurements for replacements and let the tape measure shoot back into itself before turning to Marina.

“I have a guy that does this kind of work. I'll get in contact with him for you. No cost to you, but for now I’d say invest in security cameras…they’ll bring you a good peace of mind.”

“Will do, that’s not even out of the question anymore… thank you for extending this kind of generosity to me.”

A smirk graced his face as he stared down at her, hands itching to touch her. “Let’s get lunch and you can thank me all you want afterwards.” He helped her up into his truck with a hand on her waist, green eyes going wide at her ass in his face, and on his way around the truck he was silently praying to god.

She was definitely chatty when she got comfortable, but he didn’t mind listening. They filled their bellies with Korean bbq and sushi and Terry was still ordering appetizers.

“Please no more, are you trying to stuff me?” In more ways than one he thought to himself, he just loved watching her eat. When she tried something new amongst the appetizers she hit a little happy dance if she liked it. They had ate their fill in food with plenty to bring home, Terry paid the bill and carried their Togo bags and she kept up beside him sipping quietly on her lychee tea. His phone buzzed in the console a few times and he ignored it knowing it was about his shipment, he would get to it when she was no longer around.

“Do you need to get that… am I intruding or something? You can let me know, I’m sure you’re practically booked and busy. Please don’t let me hold you up.”

“They can wait, you’re more important right now.” She turned slightly in her seat and her cognac eyes held his for what felt like hours. And she leaned closer into his space, holding that eye contact.

“You have the most beautiful eyes… they just seem never ending.” His stare intensified and he watched her smile dreamily at him, whatever effect he thought he had on her had been confirmed.

“You keep complimenting me like that and I’ll start to think you got a little crush on me Ms.Evans.”

“Would that be so bad…me liking you?” He shook his head and tucked a braid back into her bun fingers slowly grazing her neck. How bold of her,

“Only if I didn’t like you back.” He smirked and rubbed his fingers against her open palm watching her fingers twitch slightly. “You’re an amazing woman Marina… I’ve been interested in you for a while, but things just didn’t make sense then.” He thought back to a few months ago when he had initially intended on meeting her but he was busy trying to wipe a whole bloodline out at the time and that was time consuming.

Her eyes danced around his face as she listened to him intently, and his right hand rose to her chin to focus them, letting her lean into him to initiate a kiss. But she put her hands up pulled back slowly.

“But Terry what if-“

“Shh.. put your hands down and let it happen, let me in.”

His hands found her face and he pressed his lips to hers in a rush. Her tongue tasted sweet from her drink and the strawberry flavored lip gloss had him sucking her lips into his mouth like a savage. She gripped his shirt and he pulled her into him with a hand on her waist hand rubbing along her back soothingly, chest to chest heads turning left to right to increase the experience. He pulled away from her reluctantly and brought a hand to his lips to kiss.

“Give me a chance to court you and prove myself…if you don’t like what I offer you, then that’ll be it and I won’t bother you again, but if you do..I have so much to show you.”

“A deal is a deal Mr.Richmond..let the games begin.”

__

A/N: The girls called for Mafia!Terry??? HERE HE GO😗. Like and reblog if you enjoyed this🫶🏾

@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy @ovohanna24 @talkswithdesi @notc0rtez @becauseimswagman1 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @mysteryuz

#terry richmond #aaron pierre #terry richmond x blackoc #rebrl ridge

[another-goblin]

I've seen a lot of interesting opinions about Dr. Ratio. Some of them I disagree with. So I decided to compile a little list of why I disagree with them. The first part will be about things that seem factually incorrect, and the second part is about things that are rather a matter of interpretation and context.

As always, I might be wrong, so feel free to correct me.

1. Things that seem factually incorrect. 

"Ratio is an egoist and does everything for attention and recognition" - I don't remember him ever saying or doing anything that would indicate that. He saved these researchers secretly and made our TB take all the credit. He later even calls himself a "supporting character". He gets angry if we ask him for an autograph.

"He doesn't care about people" - yes, if you skipped his passionate speech to Screwllum about how much he cares about people. But also, everything he does in the game is helping people (saving these researchers on Herta station, offering us his help later in the express dialogues and messages - offering us to enroll in university, participate in devates, turn the express into a weapon, later helping Aventurine with his plan, helping him to find information, and so on).

"He hasn't achieved anything in science" - the list of his scientific achievements is easily available, I wouldn't say it's nothing. But I'll also leave this here:

Even his dedicated hater disagrees with this.

"Ratio's note did nothing to convince Aventurine to stay alive, it was all Acheron" - from how I see it, he was fully determined to end his life up until he read that note. Otherwise, why would they introduce the note at all? Why did Acheron feel the need to remind him of it?

"He never wanted to draw the gaze of Nous" and "He still wants it" - we can deduce that it isn't true from different parts of the game (he actually wanted it in the past but doesn't anymore), but that is a direct confirmation:

(I trust Screwllum's opinion.)

"Everybody hates him in-universe" - this is interesting because I even heard this from his fans. And it might sort of feel intuitive, but I don't remember any evidence of that. He literally has an in-universe fan club. People who knew him closely talk about him warmly in his character stories. The only person I remember ever expressing any negativity towards him was some shcolar in the Simulatred Universe, but I don't think it counts. I'll talk more about his students in particular later, but short version: I don't think they hate him either.

"I hate it when he tells me 'Zero points, get out' and throws chalk at me, that's mean" - that's so weirdly specific, but I've seen it a dozen times already. And, like, why??? He tells it to his enemies, not to us. I mean, nobody's angry at Serval for electrocuting her fans with her guitar just because that's what she does in her fighting animation.

Speaking of combat voice lines, if we wait too long, most characters get irritated and try to hurry us up. Meanwhile Ratio:

'That's okay, take your time, it's a turn-based game after all.'

"He's physically abusive to his students, he throws chalk at them" - similar to the previous point. I don't remember any mention of him doing that. The only case of him using physical force against a (potential) student was when, as a TA, he threw away a rich asshole who tried to buy a degree. And yes, in the boring real world, I wouldn't approve of that, but in the world of the game - well done, good ridance!

"He doesn't tolerate people disagreeing with him, he thinks he's always right"

"He's responsible for the crisis at Herta Station" - how though? I saw this opinion several times, and I'm really curious what people mean by that. Did he himself endanger these researchers by teleporting them who knows where, then faked the video from Duke Inferno, and so on? But why stop here while we're at it , maybe he also impersonated Ruan Mei, left the bug on the station, abandoned the poor cat-creatrures and drugged us with a cake?…

"He's worse than Dottore from Genshin" - technically it's a matter of opinion, but I think nobody will mind if I put it in the 'just wrong' category. But yeah, that's an opinion I've heard. I've got no idea what they meant, but it made me think, how many people did he help and save, both in the game and in his past? Probably more than most of the characters we've met so far. And he doesn't seem to discriminate, it's not 'I'll save my people'. He cured that disease for everybody's benefit, he saved Herta's researchers, he helped TB unravel the events on the station and then proceeded to pester them offering his help, he cosideres some troubled IPC executive 'his responsibility' and so on.

"He actually betrayed Aventurine" - no comments. Come on, play the game, read the dialogues.

1.5. A little intermission.

The thing that's hard to deny is that he definitely doesn't mince his words. Whether you see it as him being a rude asshole, being justifiably angry, brutally honest, sarcastic, or snarky, or showing tough love, or just being incapable of expressing himself in an adequate and socially acceptable way, it's up to you. I can understand how some people might be uncomfortable with that. I personally find it an interesting character trait. (I mean, he isn't even capable of expressing positive feelings in a normal way, what did you expect of him?):

There is also a very interesting (but rather confusing) thing that can be missed if you are unwilling to see further than the initial shallow impression, but it is impossible to unsee once you've noticed it. He sees himself as a teacher in two very different ways. It can be missed at first because both ways are described in very similar words. These ways are: 

a teacher in a traditional sense (let's call it 'academic teacher'); 

and as something akin to a 'life coach', just helping people and making them realize that they shloud (and can) rely on themselves.

The thing is, we never see him in his 'academic teacher' role. As far as we know, he only acts this way with his university students. We never see him teaching anybody any scientific stuff, or berating people for their lack of knowledge and education. Yet he says that he considers everybody his students. But what does he mean if it's not about knowledge? He means it in the second 'life coach' meaning. Therefore, he sees literally everybody as worthy of his help and support.

BTW, I feel like his main problem as a character is that people tend to settle on the first impression they get of him and are unwilling to see further than that. Meanwhile, the game continues to explore his personality, revealing that most things about him are actually the opposite of what they might seem at first. That's why so many people think that he calls everybody idiots for being less smart than him, that he's egoistic and unfeeling, that he values knowledge above all, and so on. So if you actually have interest in him as a character, I'd encourage you to look at him more closely.

2. Now to the things that are more open to interpretation.

"He uses mean words" -to be honest, I'm not a big fan of writers making him use these words (idiots, fools, stupidity, and so on) because, first, they are usually used as just empty insults. (I'm curious whether he uses similar words in Chinese or something more nuanced). So I can understand how it can put some people off. And the second problem is that it feels like he means different things every time he uses these words. It's quite confusing. Here is a post where people helped me find different cases of him using these words; you can check it out yourself.

Let's look closer at some of these cases: 

-'While geniuses wander among the stars, the ordinary can't even trace their footsteps. Those less gifted have no choice but to walk alone, enduring a lifetime of tumbles and triumphs. But even a life marked by failure is a life worth living — it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up' He seems to contrast geniuses with fools here, so fools are everybody who's not a genius. So if you are inclined to see him this way, if you squint, you can technically see it as him insulting people based on their intellectual abilities, right?… Except, he includes himself among these fools, so no:

So it's basically 'all who are not geniuses are fools, including me'. Which is an interesting way to put it, but it definitely doesn't mean ''you are all fools for not being as smart as me''.

But he mostly uses these words when he talks about his fellow scholars:

-'First, with the headpiece on, isolated from my five senses, I can think without interference. And second, I don't have to set eyes on stupid people' - we only see him wearing the plaster head on Herta's Station, a place full of the most brilliant minds in the universe. We never see him using it again with normal people, so the word 'stupid' here can't be about people's intelligence.

There is also an interesting little detail:

He admires her intelligence (although in a sarcastic manner) in his 'about Herta' voiceline. He doesn't wear his 'anti-stupid' mask when he's with TB or Aventurine, but he always wears it with Herta. Which is very telling, and indicates again what he means by 'stupid'.

Some other examples:

-'(…)the fools from the Guild with ambitions beyond stars should be banished from my sight and thereby mind' -'Don't invert priorities like these dolts from the guild' -'I cannot stand fools, idiots, or imbeciles. Seeing them fills me with dread. Regrettably, this space station is just like the Intelligentsia Guild — devoid of geniuses and filled with mediocrity' -'Ah, the Technology Department. Charming little place, isn't it? Madam Yabuli does possess some semblance of competence, but her subordinates? Oh, they're a riot — brimming with enthusiasm yet utterly devoid of intellect. It's as if evolution halted prematurely for them'

He is absolutely RUTHLESS when he talks about scientists, because he expects a lot from them.

So no, I don't think he'd call you an idiot for not being an A student, or having learning difficulties, or just lacking an interest in learning. He absolutely would though if you were a brilliant scientist, priveledged with great education, resources, and a personal lab, squandering your talents and funds on a useless vanity project, or hoarding potentially life-saving knowledge for yourself, to use as a commodity.

"But he does call people idiots!" - I've noticed that most of the time he uses these 'insults' he talks about some groups of people.

I could only think of 3 times when he called an individual an idiot. He calls Aventurine an idiot because he 'lost' the stones (but it doesn't count because he plays a role and pretends that he hates Aven). A scholar in an event in SU complains of Ratio calling him an idiot (I'm not sure it actually happened, it's just a story in SU).

But there is one case of him calling somebody an idiot and actually meaning it. And who is this poor victim of his terrible verbal abuse? It's himself. Whoops. (speaking of how he's supposedly full of himself and thinks that he's better than the others.)

"He would call me an idiot because of my supposed lack of knowledge/education/intelligence" - I showed in the previous point why I think he wouldn't (he never seems to use these words to mean that).

But also consider this. During his interactions with Aventurine on Penacony Ratio mostly plays a role for Sunday, pretending that he despises Aventurine. That's why we can't draw any conclusions about his personality from most of their dialogues. But the moments when he breaks the role are extremely telling.

Let's look at one of them from the beginning. They argue; Ratio calls Aventurine an idiot for 'ruining their plan'. And then Aventurine mentions that he didn't go to school and lacks formal education. If there ever was a good time to call someone an idiot for being uneducated, that's it! That's what Sunday expects to hear (because his plan hinges on Ratio valuing knowledge above all else).

And what does he do? He fucking apologizes! Even for the role and for the sake of their plan, he can't bring himself to insult someone for being uneducated.

"He's mean to TB" - it's a matter of interpretation, but his behavior with us didn't strike me as mean or demeaning. He was just being sarcastic and snarky as always (and I understand that it's not everybody's cup of tea).

The situation was time-sensitive and precarious. We don't know how much control he had over it. He tried to make us realize what's going on as fast as possible, pretending that he himself is clueless. Because his goal was to show the recearchers that despite the presence of 2-3 geniuses on board, none of them were able to save them. If he just publicly saved everybody, it would be just another genius appearing out of nowhere and saving the day, which would go against his goals and his philosophy.

And later, our TB seems to regard him with a mix of respect and amusement (calling him Professor, asking for an autograph), no resentment here. So TB didn't think he was mean either.

"He values knowledge above all, he's obsessed with teaching people stuff, and he doesn't understand/accept that other people might have other priorities" - I'd argue that literally the opposite is true. He doesn't impose his knowledge on anybody against their will, and we never see him berate anybody for their lack of knowledge or education.

Sunday isn't the first person to misunderstand him that badly, and he's not having it. Even though at this point in the story, his and Aventurine's plan hinges on Sunday's misunderstanding. But I think his position is very clear: pursuit of knowledge above all is a matter of petty pride.

He says it when we ask him why he doesn't nag us about getting our act together, before a party. So basically "if learning makes you feel bad (doesn't enhance your living) then you are doing it wrong, go and have fun".

This probably isn't considered canon, but it illustrates how he sees knowledge. Here is an analogy. If I had an apple orchard, and I thought my apples were awesome and they'd make a great gift, and you should feel free to ask me if you want some. It doesn't mean that I shove my apples into people's mouths against their will and then call them idiots and spit on them when they don't like it.

"He's a bad person because he didn't help us fight the big bug" - he knew who we are. It's not in his habit to directly involve himself where he's not needed, it would go against his philosophy ('you should count on yourself; you can do it'). It's not like he left us to die; he must have known how capable our TB is. BTW, he was still looking after us, seemingly ready to come to our help:

Besides, currently nothing indicates that (outside of the turn-based gameplay) he's anything more than a normal human being. He would be a hindrance in a fight. 

"He's a bad teacher" - (first, here is an interesting post about this from the point of view of an actual teacher)

So yeah, it's about the 3% passing rate. Yes, it can mean that only 3% of his students end up learning something. It's possible that he's such a bumbling idiot of a teacher that he doesn't even understand how bad he is. It's possible that he's somehow still allowed to teach despite being THAT bad.

But I think it's much more possible (and consistent with his philosophy) that he just has very high standards. A 3% rate doesn't mean that only 3% know anything. Students might benefit enormously from his classes, even without passing. They still have all their valuable skills and knowledge.

But also, let's not forget that he doesn't teach children. He teaches at the university. And I don't think it's some 101 basics; it's likely something related to his research and discoveries, some extremely advanced cutting-edge stuff. So his students are already extremely well educated adults, who want to achieve more. He would probably see lowering his standards as a betrayal of his students.

"His students hate him" - I didn't get that impression. On the contrary, they seem quite interested in him (some times in really creepy ways):

The only indication that they might have something against him is this:

It's either a literal roll-call of actual adults who shed literal tears during his classes, or it's just students being their normal cheeky selves, being overdramatic about a strict teacher. 

An example that came to mind: I can whine about how ruthless my gym trainer is and how I couldn't walk for a week after the last leg day. And his other clients would agree. But everybody understands that it's an expression of approval, not contempt. And maybe a bit of a humble brag.

Besides, if we decide to take that post at face value, then we'll have to take this literally too, meaning that his students consider him an actual God. And I don't think it's true:

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

There are still a lot of hot takes I disagree with that I haven't mentioned, but I'm too tired. This took WAY too long. Other cases are mostly quote-mining and deliberatly taking what he says out of context, which isn't very interesting to argue against (just read the full dialogue and consider the context). And also different variations on 'he's an asshole, he hates people, he thinks he's better than others, he'd call you an idiot for this or that, he's elitist, he only values knowledge and intelligence' and so on, but I think I addressed it sufficiently.

So yeah, that was my little character research. This wasn't written for his haters (I dislike some characters myself, and I wouldn't probably read 3K words about how I should change my mind). It was rather for the people who kind of like him, but who feel sad thinking how he'd probably call them idiots or something. I hope I was able to help you see him in a different way. He wouldn't call you an idiot, he'd support you.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

I Talk Telly Awards 2023 were won by Good Omens, Staged, David and Michael and David! 🥳🥳🥳❤❤❤

Acceptance Speech for BEST COMEDY PARTNERSHIP - DAVID TENNANT & MICHAEL SHEEN - STAGED

David: Hello, everybody. David Tennant here from TV's Staged. Just dropping by to the I Talk Telly Awards to say... thank you because we are very thrilled to have won an award for Staged.

Georgia: Oh, that's nice.

David: Yeah.

Georgia: What's it for?

David: Best Comedy partnership.

Georgia: Oh, right. For erm.

David: For me and...

Georgia: You and Michael.

David: Me and Michael.

Georgia: Ok. That's... That's nice.

David: You know what that means, Georgia.

Georgia: No, I'm not doing it again.

David: Yeah, it's time.

Georgia: No, I'm not doing it again.

David: You've got to.

Georgia: David, I'm not doing it again.

David: You've got to.

Georgia: Everyone else has moved on and you need to too.

David: It's impolite. We've got to say thank you properly for the award to the lovely people who voted. We love them very much. Go on...

Georgia: I don't wanna do it.

David: Do it.

[Georgia holds big cardboard head of Michael Sheen in front of herself]

David: Heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy! Michaeeeeel! Michael Sheen and David Tennant here saying thank you for recognizing us as Best Comedy Partnership. Very kind. We're thrilled, aren't we, Michael?

[The cardboard head of Michael nods]

David: Anything else you want to say, Michael?

[The cardboard head of Michael shakes as no]

David: Anything at all?

[The cardboard head of Michael shakes as no]

David: Say something in Welsh.

Georgia behind the head: I don't want to say anything in Welsh.

David: Must be something you could say in Welsh.

Georgia behind the head: I don't want to say anything in Welsh.

David: Thanks everybody! Iechyd da! [= Cheers in Welsh]

Acceptance Speech for BEST RETURNING COMEDY - STAGED

[There is Anna and Lyra, with Cardboard Georgia and Cardboard David]

Lyra: Thank you everyone for voting for Staged!

Anna whispers: For Best Returning Comedy.

Lyra: For Best Returning Comedy.

Acceptance Speech for BEST DRAMATIC PERFORMANCE - DAVID TENNANT - LITVINENKO

David: Hello. Welcome to backstage at the Domar Warehouse. I just stepped out of rehearsals for a second because I want to say thank you so much for this award. Litvinenko was such a very special project to be part of. It meant so much to all of us who were involved in telling Sasha Litvinenko's story. It wasn't just another job. We were telling the story of an extraordinary man and his extraordinary family. It was an honour to portray him. And it means so much to have it recognized in this way. Marina Litvinenko and Anatoly, her son, were extraordinary human beings to get to know. And to be entrusted with their story is something that I will be forever proud of. So this means a great deal. So thank you to everyone who voted and thank you to I Talk Telly. I really appreciate it. Thank you so much.

We don't have an acceptance speech but Good Omens won in the BEST RETURNING DRAMA category! :)

[thecharacterchronicler]

The Bitter Taste Of My Fury (Part 4) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut

GIF is not mine, credits to the creator/owner ❤️

Outline: After a vicious attack from the rebels, Coriolanus lets some of his true feelings for you show.

Word count: 5’133

Warnings: death, murder, PTSD and explicit smut.

Author’s note: I wrote this forever ago and can’t seem to be 100% satisfied with it for some reason, I’m feeling awfully self conscious putting this out so please have mercy on me.

I made a few changes to the original story so that it would fit with my fanfic. (Making the quarter quell for which they sent two boys and two girls the 25th one instead of the 50th so that Coriolanus and his wife’s ages would fit into my plot.) I tried to make it readable as a one shot but keep in mind that it’s actually part of a multi-part series if you need/want more context.

It would help me out a lot with my next WIPs if you could answer the poll down below 🖤

((Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler)) - ((Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top)) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable)) - (( Part 5 - Craving ))

Coriolanus risked a glance from behind the black curtain to survey the large amphitheater quickly - and noisily - filling up. It was his last speech before the day of the election, his last opportunity to convince the people of Panem that he would be a good president. He had been working on his text for weeks, the last few days he had even stayed up all night to practice and memorize it to the point that the words were constantly turning in his head. He was nervous and, even if he usually was pretty good at hiding it - he felt like all the citizens taking place in the room to listen to him would notice how much he was afraid of messing up.

“You’re supposed to go on stage in five minutes.” Minerva said, Coriolanus’s young assistant was stressed out, as per usual. “Excuse me Sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that your wife isn’t here… Yet ?”

The last time Coriolanus had seen you, you both got into an argument which ended with him, fucking you rougher than what he ever allowed himself to until then. Once he was done with you, you still seemed upset with him and the reason of the dispute still grated on his nerves. For the three following days, he had spent his nights at his office. He had been mulling over what your strong feelings about such a futile matter might mean. He had expected you to be unhappy with his decision to fire Marius, your driver, but he hadn’t thought you’d be so vocal about it, even daring to demand that he be rehired. He had fired a lot of his employees in the past and you had never complained about it once, but your personal driver seemed more important to you than all the others… Was it because you had an affair with him ? Was he the one to provide you with comfort and attention whenever Coriolanus worked late ? And what if he was the one who ended up getting you pregnant ? Surely he couldn’t accept that. His heir needed to be his.

“I sent Alastair to get her an hour ago, they should arrive any minute now.” He replied, his tone unexpectedly soft in contrast to his growing irritation. But he had faith that his own driver would drag you out of the manor himself if you refused to attend such an important event for your husband.

Coriolanus glanced in the amphitheater once again, scanning the crowd in search of your familiar face but still didn’t find it. He tugged on his collar, feeling more stressed than ever before. He knew every word to his speech, he knew exactly how to behave, how to move, how to smile to win this once and for all and yet, beads of nervous sweat were forming on his forehead, his tie suddenly too constricting for his rapid breathing.

When Minerva waved a hand at him, he had no choice but to take his place at the center of the stage, even if he still hadn’t spotted you among the crowd. It was unlikely of you to be late. And even less likely that his driver would be late… The applause and cheers from his audience as he walked out from behind the black curtain almost made him forget about it all though. For a brief moment, he felt the adrenaline buzzing in his body, making him believe that he was capable of anything and proving yet again that his place was there, on stage, at the center of everyone’s admirative attention.

He smiled, waved, spotted a few influential people seating in the first rows and made sure to make eye contact with each of them as he started his speech. His best one.

But no matter how perfect his tone was, how carefully chosen his words were, the crowd slowly began to grow agitated. A few heads turned to take a look at the doors, some noise coming from behind them and before he could even fathom what had happened, an intense blow pushed him back, making his ears ring.

The loud explosion made the foundations of the ampitheater tremble, windows shattered, pieces of the ceiling came crushing to the ground but the chaos that followed was by far the scariest part. People screamed in terror, rushing in every direction to get out, pushing and stepping over each other with no decorum left, the crowd had turned into a bunch of frightened animals and they all were individually fighting for their lives.

A door was opened and a thick dark smoke rapidly filled the room, making everyone cough and scream louder. Coriolanus pulled his collar over his mouth and nose, trying to filter the smoke he’d inhale and retreated behind the black curtain, knowing there would be a door for him to escape much more easily there, out of the frenzy and chaos of the crowd.

He rushed to the back, fleeing by the concealed door while his people kept fighting to escape the suffocating smoke. He looked around, trying to get his thoughts back in order to come up with a plan, he needed to find a way to warn your driver about what had happened, so that he could avoid bringing you straight into danger. Better yet, he could drive you far away from it.

He walked in hurried steps while the people who had managed to escape ran away, the magnificent and imposing capitol building menacing to completely shatter and tumble down into dust. Leaving and reaching the street outside was the best course of action to ensure his safety, but a part of him with visibly no instinct of survival, remained determined to look around in search of a phone or whatever device he could use to warn you. To make sure you’d be safe.

He reached the front desk of the town hall, searching among the fallen bricks and thick layers of rubble with the hope to find something that would work to contact your driver…

Alastair ?

Coriolanus blinked a few times, stopping his frenetic search of the desk to stare at the silhouette running to the doors, recognizing the bald head and small frame of his driver.

“Alastair ?!” He called, as loud as he could to be heard above the distant screams and cries. The man turned around to look at him, fear appearing in his eyes when he recognized his boss… So he kept running.

Coriolanus took off after him, his tall legs giving him a clear advantage to catch up on the older man. He pushed him aside, grabbing him by his collar and slammed him against a dangerously unstable pillar.

“Where is my wife ?” He asked, leveling his face with his so that he could stare at him with his most menacing look.

“The rebels, they attacked… It was an explosion.” Alastair mumbled, inconherently. Coriolanus purposely slammed him against the hard surface again, hoping the shock it caused to his head would bring him back to his senses.

“WHERE IS MY WIFE ?!” He shouted, making it clear that if he had to ask again he might knock him unconscious instead.

“I don’t know, it exploded… The smoke… I ran.”

“You left her ?!” Your husband asked him, rage dangerously starting to take over at the realization that the one he had trusted with your security had so easily left you behind to save his own life.

“I have a family.” Alastair justified, his voice weakening and his breathing coming out raucous and labored. What was that supposed to mean ? That he was more important than you because he had children ? Was he implying that you didn’t deserve to live as much as he did because you hadn’t gave him a heir yet ?

Coriolanus’s gaze fell to his hands, the ones he was holding tightly around his driver’s neck, squeezing with all the strength of his rage. The older man started choking, tried to fight his employer off but he wasn’t strong enough and the shock of the whole situation didn’t help him think rationally enough to hope win this fight for his life.

Tighter.

Alastair’s face became alarmingly pale.

Tighter.

Alastair’s lips turned blue.

Tighter.

Alastair’s body dropped down on the floor.

Dead.

Coriolanus took a step back, watching the limp figure on the ground with clear disgust but he wasn’t sure if he felt it because Alastair had abandoned you or for himself, for adding someone else’s blood to his already stained hands.

There was no time to ponder his actions anyway. The judgment of his morals would have to wait until he found you and got you to safety. It was all that mattered. So, while people were still running out of the falling apart building, he ran back in, straight towards the thick smoke.

He called your name, so desperate to hear your voice answering him but the fleeing crowd was way too loud and agitated for him to hope hearing it and let it lead him to you. But he kept shouting anyway.

Some of his employees found him, tried to convince him to turn around and leave before the ceiling would collapse on him but he refused, determined to find you, even with the smoke burning his lungs and irritating his eyes.

His head was spinning, if the first people he had ran into were wearing their formal attire, slowly he started recognizing the red academy uniforms he used to wear every day. Then, he noticed the colors of a rainbow dress, fading in the thick smoke in front of him. A long time ago, the person wearing it had ran to him to save him from a similar situation, now she seemed to be running away, impossible for him to catch.

Was she the one who had led this violent attack against him ? And now she was here, running around the debris like an untouchable wild animal just to taunt him ? Of course she did. All she ever wanted was to end him. Ruin his life. Ruin everything.

Real or not, he followed her path, desperate to see where she would lead him. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him though, the feeling of being an eighteen years old boy who knew nothing about anything anymore. A naive man, who thought his survival depended on other people rather than on himself.

“Coryo…” Your voice called, answering his calls.

He perked up with a renewed determination to make his way through the smoke and find you. Rainbow colors and blood red uniforms faded from his vision. You were close, so he kept shouting your name, frantically searching around him until he collided against you.

He knew your body well enough by now to instantly recognize you, no one fitted in his arms the way you did. He looked down at you, trying to decipher wether you were injured or not but the dust covering your skin and hair made it hard to spot any trace of blood. He turned around, wanting to go back on his footsteps now that your hand was secured in his but he stopped when he noticed you could barely keep up, limping and coughing after each wince of pain that deformed your face.

Without a word, he came back to you and picked you up, carrying you in his arms even if his lungs were about to give up too. If he was going to die today, so be it but not before he got you out of there.

A plea for help resounded next to you, the barely visible shape of a woman stuck under a heavy pillar outstretching an arm in your direction, begging for her life. Coriolanus looked at her but kept walking, collateral damages were inevitable.

Finally, the smoke started dissipating, replaced by fresh air that burned your lungs in an entirely different way. A large crowd had formed in the street, kept at good distance from the collapsing building by peacekeepers. Many pairs of curious eyes turned to you, recognizing the presidential candidate heroically carrying his wife away from a vicious rebel attack. Some peacekeepers approached, freeing your husband’s arms to carry you to safety. They brought you to a medical tent that had been set up, where professionals and volunteers were running around, trying to care for the many injured and wounded victims.

An oxygen mask was placed on your face, providing you with the air you so desperately needed while a young woman tried to make you as comfortable as possible despite her apparent overwhelm.

“I’ll find some oxygen for you too, Sir.” She promised Coriolanus but he shook his head, refusing.

“Take care of my wife first.” He asked, and the woman nodded before scurrying away.

Time seemed to slow down as Coriolanus spent countless hours in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching over you, making sure you were taken well care of and mulling over his thirst for revenge. The rebels had crossed a line with this attack, they were clearly targeting him - and you - with it and that was simply unacceptable. His desire to become the new president of Panem was consuming him more than ever, thinking about the possibilities such a position would offer him to retaliate in kind against the districts. He could order the troops to bomb them, erase them from the map and the surface of the earth. He could decide of the fate of the very ones who committed the crime to try and kill him, he could set an example of what doom would be brought upon anyone who ever tried to hurt a Snow again… But he wasn’t president, yet.

However, his position as head gamemaker of the Hunger Games gave him quite a unique chance to keep the districts in check and remind them who truly held the power, after all, he had learned all the tricks from Doctor Gaul during the few years he had been working for her. He knew the only way to get his message to the rebels would be to answer in kind and make sure they’d know the fear of potentially loosing someone precious to them too…

A few days later, the doctors cleared you to go home so he decided to go back to his office and put his plan in motion.

As soon as he sat behind his desk, Minerva entered his office, holding a large file against her chest.

“I received the official report of the incident.” She announced, handing him the paper. He flipped the pages, brows furrowed and eyes rapidly darting across each paragraph.

“Twenty four deaths… And counting.” He read out loud.

“And I’m very sorry to tell you that I was informed that Alastair is among the victims.” She told him, which caused him to look at her, gravity etched on his face.

He had the perfect reaction. Not too emotional. Still professional. Believable.

“Do we know what happened to him exactly ?”

“The coroner said he died of asphyxiation from the smoke, like many others unfortunately.”

“It’s unfortunate indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, with a forced frown. “Make sure to send our condolences to his family.”

“Of course, Sir.” His assistant said, taking notes. “Anything else i can do ?”

“Yes… Call the press, I have an important announcement to make.” He stated, still more determined than ever to make everyone involved pay for what they did.

“And now, a message from Coriolanus Snow, head gamemaker of the Hunger Games and candidate for presidency.” The news anchor announced, as the camera zoomed in on your husband’s tired face, his brow furrowed and severity marking his traits.

“On Friday, people of the Capitol were the target of a terrible attack from an outlawed and violent group of radical people. We’ve lost precious lives and many of our citizens were gravely wounded during the attack.” Coriolanus spoke, solemnly, as the cameras shifted between different point of views of him. His voice was calm despite the rage displayed on his face. “Therefor, in retaliation, as head gamemaker, I have decided to make the 25th edition of the Hunger Games one that will remind everyone of the Capitol’s power… For this first quarter quell, each district will be required to send two boys and two girls into the arena.”

You watched your husband’s press conference on the television in the quiet and lonely living room of the manor, jaw dropping at his announcement. Was he taking advantage of the attack to give a lesson to the district, show his almighty power and advance his presidential campaign by gaining the Capitol’s support ? Or was he seeking out revenge for you ? Your chest tightened at the thought, could he care about you enough to be doing this for you ? Imagining you could be one of the reasons - among a thousand more important ones - for the punishment he decided to impose on the districts made your heart beat faster. With a husband so shy for words, a gesture like this one would speak volumes about how he truly felt.

You reached for the remote with a wince and turned the TV off, plunging the living room in darkness apart from the faint light coming from the crackling fire in the chimney. You stood with another wince, silently cursing at the doctors for sending you home without any meds to manage the pain you still felt so vividly in your body. If you had been a simple citizen, surely they would have kept you there longer, made sure that you were fully healed before letting you leave the private sector of the Capitol’s hospital but since the crowd of reporters, cameras and photographers was increasing with each passing day by the entrance of the hospital, they took the decision to send you home. Officially, it was meant to reassure Panem about the health of their potential future First Lady, show them you were as strong and courageous as your husband. But really, they just wanted to get rid of the public disturbing their other patients‘ peace.

You climbed the stairs leading to your bedroom slowly, and then sat at your vanity with a sigh. The reflection in front of you didn’t do justice to how you really felt. As soon as you had been discharged, a team invaded your room to make you look as flawless as you were always supposed to be, taking care of your hair, your makeup, your clothes, hiding any trace of the attack so that you could walk out, dazzling and smiling for the cameras. And of course you did just that. You managed to answer a few questions shouted at you with elegance and respect , offering sympathy to the ones who had suffered more than you did , smiling as some children handed you flowers and holding your head high just to let the rebels know that it would take more than this to bring Mrs Snow down.

But deep inside, you were a wreck. Images of the attack kept popping in your mind, you could still smell the smoke, feel it filling your lungs, suffocating you. You could still hear the screams, the cries, the shouts and the explosions. You could still feel the sharp pain in your shoulder when the column behind you collapsed and a heavy piece of marble hit you. You still had the bruises and the scratches on your skin from all the debris that flew in your face, even if they currently were hidden under a thick layer of makeup.

You slowly took it all off with a wipe, feeling almost relieved at the sight of the purple mark on your cheek and the other one on your neck, like a validation that you weren’t feeling so bad for nothing. You reached up to untie the sophisticated hairdo your beauty team had insisted on doing, but the sharp pain in your shoulder combined to the stiffness of your neck made it impossible to take more than two pins out before having to bring your arms down and take a deep breath to try and soothe the pain.

You had always considered yourself lucky to have such a big team of talented people to prepare you for every event you had to attend, sometimes they even got you ready and looking your best for simple shopping trips or private dinners if they expected you to be followed by reporters and photographers. But then, once the lights were out, the crowd long gone and the cameras pointed somewhere else, once you were back in the privacy and loneliness of your own home, then there wasn’t anyone to help you take off all this attire and help you be yourself again.

You were about to give up. At the moment, sleeping with twenty pins stabbing your scalp didn’t seem merely as painful as lifting your arm again did. But a movement in your mirror caught your attention. You lifted your eyes to the reflection, noticing a white silhouette, almost glowing in contrast to the darkness of your room, standing by the door, big blue eyes set on you.

You observed him quietly for a moment, unsure if he was really there or if it was yet another trick your mind was playing on you. Because you had a lot of visions of him lately. His face appearing in thick smoke. His voice shouting your name. His arms carrying you out of the chaos. His hand holding yours in the cold hospital room… You weren’t sure which memories were real or not. You couldn’t tell if he really had been by your side at the hospital this whole time or if you had just imagined his presence to reassure yourself. Were you imagining him there again so you wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely ?

“Let me help you with that.” He said, his tone softer than usual. He took the few steps in your direction, stopping behind you. You watched in the mirror as his fingers wandered in your hair in search of pins to take off, letting locks of hair fall down on your shoulders each time he removed one.

His touch was real. The heat you felt coming from his chest and radiating on your back was real. The expression of worry on his face every time he met your gaze in the reflection was real. He was real.

And instead of reassuring you like you thought it would, you suddenly felt invaded in your privacy to have him here, in your bedroom for the very first time. He shouldn’t see you like this, with your makeup off and your hair down, the bruises and the sorrow all too visible on your face. This wasn’t the image of the wife he had asked for. The wife who he wanted to impregnate. It was a pathetic reflection of a wounded and scared girl, wondering if she’ll ever be able to recover from such an horrific incident.

“I didn’t leave the hospital looking like this.” You felt compelled to say to justify how you looked in front of him, uncomfortable at the thought that it was the very first time he’d see you as you really were.

“I know, I watched the news from my office.” He simply said, focusing on finding the few last pins still tugging at your hair.

“And I watched your press conference.”

“What do you think about my idea for the quarter quell ?” His pale eyes found yours, silently gauging your reaction.

“I think a lot of people will love it, it’ll probably gain you many votes for the next round…”

“Probably but I meant what do you think about it ? Will it be a clear enough message to the districts that there will be hell to pay if they ever even think about hurting us again ?” He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Do you think all of Panem will now know that nobody hurts my wife without meeting the consequences ?”

You left out a breath, shocked by the rage you saw burning in his usually charming eyes. Either he was masterfully manipulative, wanting to make you believe that the decision he took to hold special games in retaliation was to avenge you, while it was, in fact, all about his career first. Either he really had done it for you, and the implications of such a revelation in regards to his true feelings for you were as terrifying to you as the first hypothesis was.

He remained quiet, removing his hands from your hair once he had pulled out the last pin and reached down to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down with his pale eyes fixed to yours in the mirror.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he trying to help you ? The zipper being in your back, you probably would have struggled to reach it, but the way he was taking care of it, so torturously slow, the tip of his fingers grazing the soft skin he revealed on his path made you question his true motives.

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your neck, exactly where your heart started pulsing wildly in reaction. He pulled the fabric of your dress down, until it pooled around your hips. You saw him take a look at your reflection in front of him, the sight of the bruise on your chest and the other one over your clavicle setting his fury ablaze. He balled his fists tightly, as if he was trying to contain himself so you turned around to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

You didn’t dare consider that the reason for his anger was because he cared about you enough… But the way he relaxed into your touch made you wonder if you should.

He kissed your lips. Softly. Gently. Almost reverently, as if he was taking the full measure of what he could have been deprived of for the rest of his life with a different outcome of the events of that night.

“I will kill them.” He declared, a cold determination in his tone you had never heard from him before. “I’ll kill every single person responsible for this.”

He moved his fingers over the purple bruise on your chest, a featherlight touch that still caused you a sting of pain, to mark his words.

You remembered a quote you had studied in school, it said something like “pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.” And, since it was written in your book and taught by your professor, you had always considered it to be true… Until now. Now you knew that there wasn’t anything else on earth that could possibly make you feel more alive than Coriolanus Snow and the way he kissed you, touched you and filled you up. And no pain would be able to stop your determination of feeling alive tonight. Maybe his way to cope from the attack was to hunger for violence and blood, but yours was to live.

You leaned towards him and kissed him with more fervor than he did. He returned the kiss but kept some restraint from the usually hungry and rough way you were used to having him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, against your lips. “Not when you’re hurt and still recovering.”

“I’m not made of sugar.” You assured him, with a soft smile but he didn’t return it, moving away to look at you like he had seen a ghost. Did he have flashbacks of the attack too ? Or something else ? He’d probably never tell you anyway, because he shook it off before you could open your mouth and ask him if he was alright, worry leaving its place to resolve on his face.

He walked to your bed, stopping at the edge and scanning your nightstand carefully as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he looked around, his eyes taking a moment to consider each object, each piece of decoration in your bedroom. It was the first time he entered it and although the way he threw his shirt on the floor and began unfastening his belt suggested he had other plans than simply asking you for a tour, he still took in most of the details of the only place where you could find privacy in your own home.

You stood up, removing your dress too and feeling suddenly very exposed to him. Your room, your face without makeup, your hair undone, your bruised skin, everything you usually kept hidden from your husband was now on display for him to see and you felt self conscious about it.

“Lie down.” Coriolanus demanded, kicking his pants off, leaving him with nothing on but his bare body for you to stare at, his skin almost as white as the suits he liked to wear.

You obeyed, climbing on the bed from the opposite side from where he stood. You let your head fall down on your fluffy pillow, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed how the many aches in your body were appeased by the comfortable mattress under you.

He climbed on the bed next to you and it felt somewhat strange to see him there, in your room, on your sheets, naked. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and gently pulled them down your legs, the lace fabric sending shiver down your spine on its way down your body.

He spread your legs open for him, and placed himself between them, sitting back on his knees. He looked at your bruises again so, instinctively, you tried to hide them with your arms and hands in fear that he might change his mind and leave you wanting. Thankfully, he had mercy for you and, even though he didnt seem quite sure about how to proceed this time - as if he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to tame his usual roughness - he slowly stroked the tip of his cock between your folds.

He guided it in circles, teasing your entrance every once in a while, pressing over your bud, spreading your growing wetness all over in its wake and you noticed how it made him harden too, his cock increasing in length and girth in his hand with each movement.

It didn’t take long for either of you to be ready for more. After all, it had been a whole week during which the only physical contacts you had shared was him holding your hand at the hospital or placing a chaste kiss on your forehead each time he had to leave you for a while, and that was if you hadn’t dreamed or imagined it.

No longer able to tease you, he ended up pushing his erected member inside you, finding its way in so easily it felt like you were made to fit him by now. He noticed it too, how easy it was for him to bury himself all the way in you until his balls were squeezed between your bodies and he sighed with contempt as your warm and wet pussy engulfed him fully.

You said his name in a panted breath, loving the way he filled you up with his hard cock and his eyes darted to yours, his gaze shining with lust. He moved, starting with short slides back and forth to make sure you could take it then, once he saw you close your eyes and bite your lip to conceal a moan, he got a bit rougher and faster, shoving himself back in with enough force to make the bed crack loudly.

“Yes!” You cried, as you felt his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot so deep inside you, sending such pleasure through your entire body that you already felt close to coming undone. If there was any pain in your bruised body, you didn’t feel it anymore. All your mind could focus on was the intensity of his thrusts inside of you and the ecstasy building in your core in reaction.

He moved to hover over you, the change of angle making his strong movements even more intense. A moan fell from your lips but he silenced it with a hungry kiss, his taut chest pressing against yours.

He gathered you in his arms, holding your body tightly against his as he kept relentlessly thrusting inside you, swallowing all the moans that escaped from your lips with his desperate kisses.

You closed your legs around his hips, holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to you. His thrusts lost their speed and intensity, but he still hit exactly where you needed him, making you whimper and moan with pleasure. His grip tightened and so did yours, both of you determined to never let each other go, him holding you like you might vanish at any moment and you holding him like your life depended on it.

He groaned, spilling his seed inside you with one powerful push. You dug your nails in his back, as his movements slowed down and your body contracted, your mind swimming in bliss.

He was panting, from his efforts and from the feverish kisses he kept giving you through it all. And yet he captured your lips with his again, in a much softer - almost loving - kiss. Then he set you free from his embrace, rolling on his side next to you and you istantly felt cold without the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.

You shivered and he noticed, pulling the sheet over your numb body. You looked at him, wondering if he’ll stay the night. It would be the very first time you’d get to sleep with your husband. If the idea would have been dreadful to you just a year ago, now you wanted nothing more than to press your spent body against his and feel his presence as you drift off to sleep, knowing that you are safe with him by your side.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Every Part of Me

"Th-that was amazing," Buck murmured, nuzzling into Tommy's shoulder. His voice was soft, still slightly breathless. "Thank you for...for taking such good c-care of me."

Tommy smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Buck's temple. "Always, sweetheart," he replied, his tone warm and affectionate. "And your stutter? Absolutely adorable."

Buck froze for a moment, insecurity seeping into his veins. "O-oh," he said, tensing slightly in Tommy's arms. "Is it that...that noticeable?"

Tommy looked at Buck curiously, observing the shift in his demeanor. "I mean, it's definitely something I notice, but I think it's charming. Are you okay?"

Buck's next words came out slowly and deliberately. Tommy could tell he was doing everything in his power not to stutter. "I'm fine. I just didn't realize it was so pronounced."

Sensing Buck's discomfort, Tommy's voice softened. "Baby, relax and talk to me."

Buck met Tommy's eyes, and his walls came tumbling down. "I-I've never...never really talked about th-this before," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I've had the st-stutter my whole...my whole life. My parents p-put me in speech th-therapy starting at three. I tried, so h-hard to do well. My-my parents hated... hated it, but it never really got b-better."

"Oh Ev-" Tommy began, but Buck continued, his words coming faster now as if a dam had broken.

"I remember my parents getting so...so frustrated with...with me. 'Just sp-spit it out, Evan, we haven't...haven't got all day,'" Buck mimicked, his voice taking on a bitter edge.

Tommy once again felt intense anger towards Buck's parents, fighting the urge to voice exactly what he thought of them. Instead, he listened intently as Buck continued.

"Dr. C-copeland said strong emotions...emotions seem to tr-trigger it," Buck explained, his stutter more pronounced as he delved deeper into his painful past. "And that it w-was probably w-worse around my parents because...because of how they make me feel."

"I was so...so lucky to have M-maddie," Buck said, a hint of warmth entering his voice for the first time since he began his story. "I n-never really...really got p-picked on about it because... because of her."

His lips quirked in a small, fond smile. "A kid c-called me Blabbering...Blabbering Buckley once, and she g-got so angry about...about it that it n-never happened again."

"Just... just recently I've r-realized that strong e-emotions doesn't n-necessarily mean negative...negative ones," Buck said, his eyes meeting Tommy's with a mix of vulnerability and affection.

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I feel...feel strong emotions w-with you all...all the time, Tommy."

"Oh baby, I feel strong emotions with you too," Tommy said, his voice filled with warmth. "I am so glad you shared all of this with me. I never, ever want you to feel bad about your stutter. It's something so endearing and so uniquely Evan. I love it, and..." Tommy paused briefly, his eyes locked on Buck's. "And I love you, Evan."

Buck beamed, hearing those beautiful words for the first time. "I love...love you too, T-Tommy. So...so much."

Tommy pulled him in for a heated kiss, pouring all his emotions into it. When they finally parted, Buck's eyes were shining.

"Thank you for loving all of me," Buck said softly. "Even the parts I don't love about myself."

[ellastone-olsen]

can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3

Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request

★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff

★Word count: 1.8k

★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.

The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”

A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.

The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.

Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.

She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.

The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.

Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.

When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.

You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.

After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."

She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.

The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”

Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.

Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.

“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.

Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.

[ennn]

Jac Schaeffer on Agathario, Rio as Nicky's dad, Rio' scar speech

Some highlights from the Jeff Goldsmith Podcast.

Jeff: That brings us obviously speaking of relationships to Agatha and Rio, you have a very interesting foundation and I know if stuff was cut, you wouldn't be able to speak exactly on some of it, but I'm curious, was there more there? It's good to leave your audience wanting more. And people have speculated as to whether or not there was more of a flashback between them and more of their history.

Jac: There was more in the writer's room. There was never any more on the page. We sort of, it was our story instinct, I would say, that getting too far into their backstory would sort of be too much of a counterweight to the Nicky material. And so we really included what we felt was vital to this chapter. But we, we certainly talked about it at great length of how they met and what their relationship was and what it looked like in happier times and all of that.

And I didn't anticipate that the shippers would be so fervent that there would be, you know– and I–it feels foolish for not – you never know how anything is gonna land and you never know if people are gonna care.

And the amount that people care is staggering to me. And it's my hope that in the MCU there's more unpacking of the Agatha and Rio backstory.

Jeff: You were talking about the shipping group, like was there ever anything about Nicholas's father or is there any credence to the concept that it could have been born as the love child between these two?

Jac: Yes. I mean, we talked about a lot of different versions of who is the father of Nikki. And we ultimately decided that for Agatha's story, it wasn't relevant to the story we were trying to tell and we didn't really wanna get into the weeds of if it was magical or, y'know – that's again – it's sort of more rules.

We certainly considered the idea that Rio is the father. I wonder if I should ask the writers if they sort of still hold that in their hearts. It's something that I certainly thought about a lot and, and like to sort of contemplate. I enjoy that it is left to fan interpretation.

I also feel that I know how the MCU works and I don't think it serves anybody to sort of for me as the creator to emphatically tell you something that isn't on screen. Because, you know, like I said, it's my hope that these stories continue.

So, so perhaps there is a later chapter that will address this, but I, but I will say that, that when we were casting, sometimes we were like, "Does that kid look like Rio? Does that kid look like Aubrey Plaza?"

Jeff: So it's a path that, that is...

Jac: Fans and viewers, yes, are– I think they're picking up on our brainwaves for sure.

Jac: [on the toughest scenes to do] And then Rio's like little speech by the campfire was really hard.

So Giovanna Sarkees wrote a beautiful monologue that was quite long. And then it was one of those things that on the day Aubrey was doing it, and it wasn't Aubrey's fault, but it just wasn't clicking. It didn't feel right for what Aubrey had brought to the role. There's so much economy in what Aubrey does, you know, like she accomplishes so much with her physicality and her very being, that this long speech just felt wrong to me.

And I changed it on the day –which is always a risk – I changed it in the moment and the "she is my scar" I came up with, watching her do that.

[prettybean]

TEASING COD BOYS (+18)

prompt: you like to tease them

* probably I will continue the konig one 🫥

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

He has an angry expression on his face and appears prepared to kill anyone who crosses his path. Your panties were revealed by your dress riding up slightly. He knew you were doing it on purpose. With his hands, he grasps your hips, adjusts your clothing, and pushes you towards him. “You better behave, you don't want me to fuck you in front of everyone, do you want it?”

Soap

He's too sweet to get mad at you, but as soon as he sees how you're trying to show him your breasts, you see the bulge in his pants. Bite his lips, before looking around, making sure no one was watching. He brings his hands together and squeezes your tits together. A moan leaves your lips and someone turns in your direction, making you blush. “See love? better not to tease."

Price

During a business meeting, you came up with the idea to gently massage his thigh from behind the table. He glanced at you with a slight blush on his face, and continued to give her soldiers a detailed explanation of the next mission. Your hand moved upwards, touching his bulge, causing the captain to gasp.

He will ensure that everyone hears your moans from his room at the end of the meeting, fucking you hard to release his tension.

Gaz

He can't sit still. Your legs opening slightly while you were talking to his friends made him go crazy. Immediately after your hands caressed your own thighs, he quickly stomped his foot on the floor. Kyle's almost threatening look is immediately noticed by your friend, leading them to decide that it's best to leave. “You were doing it on purpose huh?” You look at him with a teasing smile. “You can only open those legs if my face is between them”.

Graves

He was completing his paperwork and conversing with his colleagues about upcoming enemy actions. Your hands rubbed over his shoulders while he sat. Your weak grinding against Philip was unnoticed by him due to his attentiveness. Or at least you thought so.

He grabbed your wrist and made you sit on him, holding onto your hip with his other hand and causing you to ride his leg in front of everyone. “Do you enjoy playing, huh? I want to have fun too then."

Alejandro

You were just a rookie and he helped you with your weekly training, along with all the other freshmen. “You should go down with your back”.

You followed his advice by arching your back and raising your ass in the air. “Oh Dios mío” you heard him say softly, as you continued to show your ambiguous position. “Okay, let's take a break,” Alejandro said, trying to hide his bulge.

König

He don’t talk to you much, well, he don’t talk at all, which was why you loved teasing him in every possible way. Every time you walked up to him and whispered something dirty to him, you were delighted to see his immediate reaction: he awkwardly walked away and insulted you in German.

Today was one of those days, you leaned close to his ear “I bet you have a huge cock, I mean, I hope so” This was too much for him, he grabbed your wrists with one hand, pushing you against the wall. “Why don't you find out?”

Keegan

You go out for a drink together, order two cold beers and start talking about your day. Keegan seemed focused on his story, but all you could think about was how handsome he was. you poured more beer into the glass, before bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on the top of the bottle, running your tongue against it.

Keegan's speech suddenly stops.

“Fuck, next time you do this I'll make sure my cock is in your mouth.”

[internetskiff]

I've sometimes seen this sentiment, especially among reviewers, that SOMA's WAU ""monster plot"" contributes nothing to the main game's story, and that the storyline would infact benefit from the WAU's removal. If you ask me, that couldn't be further from the truth. The WAU is at the root of everything. Frankly, it's the main reason the game's moral dilemmas are.. well, dilemmas at all. If the WAU wasn't making monsters, wasn't there to warp the life around Pathos-II as it saw fit, the game wouldn't have even started. Pathos-II would've just remained dormant forever. Simon wouldn't be there, and neither would any of the obstacles he faces on his journey to preserve humanity. The main reason the WAU isn't directly beneficial to Earth is exactly because its understanding of "life" is so skewed. Its not just bringing things back - its bringing them back incorrectly. Every single "monster" we meet builds a case both against and for the WAU's continued existence.

The Construct shows the WAU's failure to understand humanity in the physical sense, shoving a Human brain scan into a misshapen robot body and calling it a day, leaving it to babble to itself as it aimlessly wanders the halls of Upsilon.

The same could be said for Carl Semken and the other Mockingbirds, though to a lesser degree - though capable of speech, they're still very delusional and oftentimes end up going insane. Still, in some ways you see the WAU's understanding of human psychology progress with each new mockingbird - they become increasingly coherent and increasingly sane, Catherine and Robin Bass being great examples. While the Construct has lost so much of itself you can no longer tell who it used to be, the other Mockingbirds have their sense of self intact. With the WAU's unreliable nature cemented, we move on to its attempts at preserving humans physically, with Amy Azarro being the first proper example Simon gets to witness.

She's kept alive in what seems to be a perpetual state of discomfort, and judging by the structure gel slowly overtaking her I believe the WAU may be slowly converting her into one of the Fleshers. Its keeping her alive, yes, but its doing so at any cost necessary - it doesn't matter if she's in constant pain as long as she doesn't flatline. Its treatment of actual organisms is practically an inversion of its treatment of the Mockingbirds - instead of prioritizing the mental wellbeing of the subject, the WAU prioritizes their physical wellbeing with little to no care for the mental state its "patient" is in the entire time.

Fleshers live and breathe, but they seemingly aren't "all there" at all. The lights are on, but no one's home anymore. All they do is wander the ruins of the CURIE and lash out at anyone who enters their territory - the WAU has basically reduced them to animals.

Terry's been driven insane from all the structure gel infesting his insides, and though his goal was "technically" benevolent (putting everyone into a permanent dream state where the WAU could make them live the best possible versions of their lives), he achieved it through incredibly violent means, conducting what was basically an attack on Theta and causing its downfall. So far, its attempts at preserving humans physically have simply resulted in increasingly grotesque and violent monstrosities - but I would argue you see that begin to change when Simon reaches Omicron.

When you reach it, you see the aftermath of a particularly gruesome procedure WAU had carried out - everyone's blackboxes have exploded, turning their heads to mush. We find out that one of the employees, with the help of someone particularly close to the WAU, had figured out how to poison it. They have been receiving "visions" and "messages" from a comatose Johan Ross - the WAU's "AI psychologist", someone it desperately tried to restore from a comatose state by manipulating structure gel with electromagnetic fields. Either the WAU deliberately retaliated when it figured out the poisoning plot, or it had simply overdone it when restoring Johan Ross - sacrificing an entire station's worth of lives to bring someone back. Either way this shows a tremendous amount of intelligence on the WAU's part - and also paints it as either exceptionally cruel or exceptionally empathetic depending on the perspective you view it from. Either it considered Johan so important to it that it was willing to sacrifice most Omicron staff, or it was willing to violently retaliate in order to preserve itself. Either way, Omicron houses what I believe to be a sign of the WAU's steadily improving understanding of humanity - Dr. Johan Ross.

He has been restored with both his physical health and mental faculties (relatively) intact. He isn't violent, and he perfectly understands what condition he is currently in - but despite that he doesn't seem to be physically suffering. He is still driven to eliminate the WAU, but it seems to be less out of personal suffering and more out of fear in regards to the suffering its other creations may go through. I believe he's an example of a semi-perfectly restored human - both him and Simon himself. They're both cases of, as Catherine puts it, "a sound mind in a sound body". But although the signs are there, there is no outright definitive proof that the WAU's creations will only continue to get better.

And that's what makes the game's final moral dilemma so compelling to me. The whole game has been providing us with both evidence and counterevidence towards the WAU's idea of restoring humanity. Now, it's up to you to act as its jury and executioner. By killing it you either stop it from torturing the memory of humanity, or you doom humanity to extinction in all senses of the word. By keeping it alive, you either doom the remnants of humanity to an eternal torturous existence, or you give the WAU a chance at creating something new. There is no way of knowing what choice is correct - because you don't know what the WAU is thinking. You never get to. You don't know its plans, you don't know if it even has the capacity to actually learn from its mistakes, hell, you don't even know if its capable of thought - but here it is. Making things. Terrible things, but there's a chance that it'll only get better with time. Simon himself is evidence of that chance. It has already managed to make what could be classified as a "complete" person. And if you kill it, Simon's going to be the last "complete" person it managed to bring back.

[kaledya]

Constantine's character introduction:

Description: Constantine is the first child of Lilith and Lucifer, 6 years older than Charlie and the crown prince of Hell

-Constantine is rational as a person, he doesn't approach anything with emotions, he sees everything as a plus or minus or as moves on a chessboard.

-Constantine would probably tell you the perfect way out of your problems if you went crying to him for advice, but he wouldn't try to console you emotionally.

-Constantine has the philosophy that everything is fair game for victory, if victory is the result it doesn't matter how much of a monster he is on the road, for example if it means protecting Charlie he will gladly do things to make Charlie hate him and not regret it, after all his sister will be safe even if she hates him.

-He's calm and patient and proud and egoistic, and his pride and ego comes from the intelligence and power that he has in general. 

-Constantine is one of hell's foremost intellectually and is seen as having great potential even by his family. Even as a child he was able to grasp very difficult spells with ease and never had a problem memorizing spells due to his photographic memory.

-But this intelligence has a side effect Constantine can't feel emotions very well, he can't comprehend them very well, he can't empathize with someone, sometimes he even thought that Charlie inherited the angelic and humanoid parts of his parents (it could be said that Charlie has enough empathy for both of them). 

-And since he knew what hell was like, he knew that if he was powerless he would not be able to protect his sister or himself in the future, so for a period after his 20s he devoted himself only to his education and self-development. 

-As Constantine became more interested in politics, he taught himself how to be a snake with snakes, which again began to corrupt his own personality.

-It is really hard to get him angry, even when he is angry he keeps his poker face and never shows his emotions.

-He doesn't tolerate disrespect in any form and doesn't hesitate to punish anyone (except his family members and the people at the hotel (he knows that if he hurts Charlie's friends, it won't end well).

-As genius and calm as Constantine is, there's a mad genius underneath, sometimes spending weeks in his workshop and library researching and Charlie has to drag him out of there, or he can be brilliant at the hardest things and terrible at the simplest.

-Constantine is a really great wizard, often inventing his own spells and combining what he has (he may have blown up parts of the palace a couple of times, but on the bright side he created a repair spell).

----

Constantine is heterosexual, but he has never been in love, nor has he ever had a lover (he has the same capacity to understand love as a tree. He doesn't have) Lust has never been something that attracts him. For Constantine, it doesn't matter how attractive someone is, if that person can surprise him with her intelligence and see her as his equal, he will consider having a relationship with her, but lust is just salt on the dish.

in fact when Asmodeus asked him if he ever planned to make a lover he said "Lust is not something that interests me, my dear uncle, if one day I meet a woman who can surprise me with her intelligence and who I can consider my equal, I may love her. end of story''

-----

After the disappearance of lilith, Lucifer didn't want to be so involved in royal affairs anymore, he needed a break, so Constantine started to take care of most of the royal affairs and this increased his authority a lot over the years and now all the nobles look at the prince as a king instead of a prince.

Speaking style: 

Constantine's voice is cold, he speaks like an British aristocrat from the 1800s, he chooses his words very well, he is a sweet-tongued snake, and he likes to analyze the other party and reveal their weaknesses in his speech.

Fun facts:

Since his eating habits have been transferred to his own palace, he usually eats cereal, fried chicken and dessert-like things, except for royal gatherings (I mean, he's half Angel, so he knows his health won't be affected by his diet, so he doesn't care)

Constantine has owl features, walks very quietly and can easily turn his head in the opposite direction. He has feathers on some parts of his body. His hands are like bird claws and he has great vision.

Since he and Charlie are half Angel, 4 hours of sleep is equivalent to 8 hours of sleep for them, but despite this, Constantine sometimes stays awake for days and tries to fulfill his need for sleep by sleeping for 2 days in a row (this does not exist at the moment, Charlie disturbed him and helped him to establish his sleep pattern)

Relationships:

Lucifer: Constantine had a close relationship with his father as a child, he saw him as a role model and loved spending time with him, constantly following him around the palace like a duckling. And he did his best to make his father proud, asking him to teach him new spells and enjoying their time together. But as the years went by, they started to have differences of opinion and so on. Now, especially after what happened between Lucifer and Charlie, they had a fight and never spoke again. Lucifer is upset about this, but Constantine doesn't feel much because he thinks it's the right thing to do, even though he loves his father to the core.

Later in the series, when Lucifer overcomes his pride and apologizes to Charlie, Constantine forgives him and the ice between them slowly begins to melt.

Lilith: Constantine was always closer to his mother and developed many of his personality traits after her example, and Lilith was very interested in her son's upbringing, taking care to raise him in a strict manner, teaching him everything she knew and showing him what kind of king he should be in the future.

Charlie: Constantine loves his little sister so much that he would burn every ring of hell seven times for her. And although he doesn't have much empathy etc., when Charlie is sad he is always there to support her as much as he can, he always treats his sister with respect.

When they were little the two of them were mischievous enough to do things to destroy the palace, so Constantine's most fun memories are the times she spends with her sister and as much as they love each other, like all siblings they sometimes fight or bicker, when they were little it was normal sibling bickering, when they grew up it was usually about Constantine's inability to take care of himself properly, but now, even though they don't see each other much, they often call each other and they have a really healthy relationship and even though their opinions may be divided at times, they both respect and value each other.

Serenity: Constantine describes Serenity as an interesting case. As an overlord, Serenity was the only one Constantine noticed because she was someone who tried to gain power through sweet talk and knowledge, not brutality, a woman who built her empire through mind games, and she did something surprising for a sinner: she spread her power not only to the guru ring but also to other rings, which is why Constantine found her intriguing.

When they first met at the hotel, they naturally got along well, but as time went on and they were both in the same areas because of Charlie, Constantine got to know Serenity better and realized that he liked spending time with this sinner, even though even he was surprised by it. Serenity was smart and cunning, Constantine rarely found someone who could keep up with him in conversation, and he and Serenity shared many hobbies, so over time their enmity turned into friendship and even months after they met Constantine invited Serenity to his palace. He really liked listening to Serenity's comments on his books or projects and they both really enjoyed those days but of course there is no real trust between them, one is a prince of hell and the other is an overlord but they still like each other's presence. 

Hotel residents: Constantine is neutral towards them.

Alastor: Constantine and Alastor have a relationship of respect, as long as Alastor respects Constantine, Constantine is neutral around him, he doesn't get into dogfights with Alastor like Lucifer did. And Alastor knows Constantine's authority, so he doesn't do anything out of line, but Constantine doesn't like Alastor, he knows he's not in the hotel for fun, and he finds it annoying that he's trying to get close to Charlie, but he doesn't see him as a threat, he just sees him as a fly that makes a noise, and he's waiting for him to do something out of line. But of course they have a lot in common in terms of personality and hobbies, if you don't include their positions etc, they could get along well in that way.

The relationship with sins:

Bee: Constantine loves his Aunt Bee very much, even when he was little he remembers like it was yesterday when he used to stay with Charlie and his Aunt Bee always did her best to keep them both happy and she was always kind to them and when they are with her he likes to forget all the royal stuff and have fun. Now Bee is one of the few people who can run up and hug Constantine at royal meetings.

Satan: Constantine grew up closest to Satan, who saw the potential for destruction in Constantine from the time he was young and wanted to guide him, and succeeded. Constantine's perception of power often comes from Satan.

Belphegor: Constantine likes to spend time with her. Belphegor is a women who studies medicine and science, so Constantine really likes to discuss these things with her.

Mammon: he doesn't like him, he thinks he's a clown.

Asmodeus: Constantine is not very close to Asmodeus, but he likes his uncle.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Leap of faith - Lewis Hamilton

It can be read as a separate one-shot. But with the story it just makes it so much better

Sequence: Not just a pretty face / I need you to let me go / Fly on my own / Leap of faith (bonus)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: couple who went through a lot finally getting their happily ever after 🥹❤️

wordcount: +2k

a/n: Their story has my whole heart and I thought they deserved this closure❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, the glow of fairy lights casting a warm light across the open Californian sky. Guests were scattered around tables, their faces glowing with joy and a bit of alcohol.

In the midst of it all, the newlyweds stood at the center of attention, surrounded by family and friends who had gathered to witness this moment.

Lewis stood there, his fingers lightly gripping the mic as he looked around the room.

His eyes landed on Y/n, and his usual confidence softened into something more tender. He took a breath, the kind that spoke volumes without saying a word, then began to speak with that familiar, easygoing tone.

"I've been thinking a lot about what I wanted to say today. You all know I’m not really one for speeches—well, at least not ones that don’t involve a podium anyway. But today, standing here, looking at Y/n, I realize that there are some things that need to be said. Things that have been in my heart for a long time, but that maybe I haven’t always found the right words for."

He glanced down at his new wedding band for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before looking back up at her.

"When I first met Y/n, I was... let’s just say I was a little too sure of myself. I thought I knew what I wanted out of life, what it meant to be successful, to be happy. But Y/n... she changed all of that."

He paused, his eyes softening as he took in her face, the way she looked at him with that mix of affection and amusement that only she could pull off.

"I won’t pretend that our journey has been easy. It hasn’t. There have been times when I wondered if we’d ever get here, if we’d ever figure out how to make it work. But through it all, there was this pull—something that kept drawing me back to you. It felt inevitable."

There was a brief silence, the kind that came when words just didn’t seem enough, but he pressed on, his voice a little softer now.

"Over the years, I’ve felt so many things for you, Y/n. Admiration, frustration, pride, fear... love. So much love.

“But more than anything, I’ve felt lucky. Lucky to have met someone who sees me—not the driver, not the celebrity. The real me. And even luckier that, despite everything, you’ve chosen to stand by my side."

He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if he was still a bit in awe of it all.

"You’ve taught me that love isn’t about finding someone who’s perfect—God knows neither of us are that. It’s about finding someone who’s willing to grow with you, to fight with you and for you, to laugh with you when things are good and hold you when they’re not.”

“It’s about finding that person who challenges you, who pushes you to be better, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."

His voice caught slightly, just for a moment, and he cleared his throat before continuing.

"There were times when the distance, the pressures, the lives we lead seemed like too much. But every time I doubted, you showed up. You were always there, with your strength, your sarcasm, your endless belief in me. And slowly, I started to believe too. Believe that we were worth the fight, worth all the doubts."

He stopped, letting those words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, his tone more thoughtful now.

"I’ve thought a lot about what it means to commit to someone, to truly give yourself over to another person. It’s not something I’ve ever taken lightly. But then I remember when you asked me if I'd catch you. And how I just knew, somehow, that I could never let you fall. That I would always be there, arms wide open, ready to catch you."

He paused again, his eyes never leaving hers, and there was a rawness in his voice.

"You’ve been my biggest challenge and my greatest adventure. And through all the ups and downs, all the doubts and fears, one thing has remained constant: my love for you. It’s been tested, pushed to its limits, but it’s also grown stronger because of it. Stronger because of you."

There was a brief silence as he let those words sink in, both for himself and for everyone listening.

"I’ve come to realize that loving you, Y/n, isn’t trying to fit into some perfect mold, some idea of what we’re supposed to be. It’s embracing who we are, flaws and all. You make me want to be a better man, not because you ask me to, but because you deserve nothing less."

He took a deep breath, the emotion in his voice becoming more apparent as he neared the end of his vows.

"I’ve been in some pretty high-pressure situations in my life. But standing here today, committing my life to you, is by far the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

He smiled, a little wistful but also full of hope and love.

"You’ve always been the one, Y/n. Even when I didn’t know it, even when I tried to deny it, you were always the one. And, standing here, I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to. Because I’ve found home."

Lewis’s voice dropped to a near whisper, the words meant only for her, even as the room listened intently.

"I’m all in, Y/n. I’ve always been all in, even when I didn’t realize it. And I can’t wait to see where this leap takes us next. Because whatever happens, wherever we go, I know one thing for sure—I’ll always catch you."

He let out a small, almost relieved sigh, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Then, with a soft smile, he added,

"And I promise, for as long as I’m breathing, I’ll never let you fall alone."

As the last word left his lips and he smiled at his wife, Y/n stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly, as if to anchor herself in that moment.

He embraced her, his lips brushing softly against her hair, leaving a tender kiss there as he breathed in her familiar scent for a minute, before she let go and nodded at him.

Y/n took a deep breath as she took the microphone from Lewis, her fingers lightly brushing over his fingers as she gazed at him.

His vows had been everything she expected and more, and now it was her turn.

She could feel the weight of the moment, the anticipation in the air, but as she turned away from him, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—mischief, affection, and a hint of that vulnerability she rarely let anyone see.

She glanced at the guests, her smile widening as she began to speak, her tone warm but laced with the familiar sarcasm that everyone knew.

“Well, that was something, wasn’t it?” Y/n’s voice carried through the room, earning a ripple of laughter. She turned her gaze back to Lewis, playfully narrowing her eyes.

 “Leave it to you to set the bar so damn high. Now I’m standing here, realizing that I should’ve probably gone first. But hey, that’s always been our dynamic, right? You go ahead, and I’ll catch up when I’m not that scared anymore.”

The guests chuckled, and Y/n took a moment to collect her thoughts. The teasing edge in her voice softened into something more genuine as she shifted her gaze back to Lewis.

“First off, let’s get this out of the way— you guys have no idea how much I’ve been trying to keep my cool all day.” She winked at the crowd, earning a few more chuckles.

“The fact that I’m standing here, in front of all of you, without a single escape plan in my back pocket is... growth.”

Her gaze shifted to her mother, who was sitting with tears already glistening in her eyes.

“I see you, Mom. I know what you’re thinking: ‘Finally, she’s not running.’ But, you know, there’s a story there.”

Y/n’s voice softened; her smile more tender as she addressed her mother.

“I get it now. All those times you tried to guide me, protect me from the world, from heartbreak—I know you were just trying to give me the best. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn’t listening, or worse, like I didn’t care. I did. I always have. I just... I had to figure it out in my own stubborn way”

She paused, letting her words sink in. Her mother nodded, lips trembling with a smile that spoke volumes more than any words could.

“And Dad,” Y/n continued, her eyes finding her father’s across the room.

“You always knew, didn’t you? You saw something in Lewis long before I did. And me, being me, I just rolled my eyes, thinking you were too eager to hand me off.” She laughed, shaking her head.

“But you were right. As always. And you never pushed, never pressured. You let me come to my own conclusions, and for that, I’m so grateful. You knew I needed time to figure out that Lewis was my away to learn how to fly.”

A wave of emotion caught in her throat, but Y/n swallowed it down, keeping her tone light as she turned to address Lewis’s parents. Her smile softened as she met their eyes.

“And to my future in-laws—Carmen, Anthony and Linda – God, I can’t believe I’m saying that out loud—thank you for raising a man who is patient enough to deal with all of this.”

She gestured to herself with a grin, drawing laughter from the guests.

“I know you probably didn’t sign up for a daughter-in-law who has a habit of running. I know it hasn’t always been easy, watching us go through everything, but I hope you know how much I love him. Thank you for welcoming me, quirks and all, into your family with open arms. I promise to take care of him, to be the partner he deserves.”

She turned then, her gaze locking onto Lewis. The room seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

“And you” she began, her voice softer, more intimate. “Lewis... where do I even start? You’ve been my constant when I was chaos, my anchor when I was drifting.”

Another pause, her voice almost choking as she took one of Lewis’s outstretched hands.

“I begged you to let me go. I was so scared—of us, of what we were becoming, of what I was feeling. I thought if I ran far enough, fast enough, I could escape it.”

She took a breath, her eyes glistening.

“But you—God, you just wouldn’t let me go, even when I didn’t deserve you. You stood there, you saw right through all my bravado, and you told me you weren’t going anywhere. That you’d wait. And you did.”

She said the last part almost to herself, nodding incredulously.

“You waited while I sorted through my mess, while I ran from something I didn’t fully understand.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and she let it fall freely.

“I’ve been thinking about this day for a long time—Feels like I’ve been calling you my partner, my best friend, my everything for so long, but now… Husband. That’s a whole new level. I mean, look at you, sitting there all smug, knowing you got me to sign my life away."

She let out a small laugh, lightening the mood for a moment as everyone else felt the tension ease, only for her expression to turn more reflective again.

"Seriously though … when I first met you, I wasn’t looking for forever. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was looking for tomorrow. I was stuck, scared, trying to navigate my own storm, and you—you were like this ridiculous beacon of light, just… shining. And I couldn’t ignore you, even though I really wanted to."

She paused, smiling as she recalled those early days.

"I kept telling myself, ‘Don’t get involved, don’t fall for the guy with the world at his feet.’ But then you’d do something… something so small, like remembering how I take my coffee or noticing when I was having a bad day without me saying a word. You were patient when I needed time, persistent when I pushed you away, and through all my doubts and fears, you became the person I couldn’t imagine my life without."

Y/n looked down for a moment, taking a breath before continuing.

“You lit something up in me that I didn’t even know was there, something that made me feel like I was enough. Like maybe, just maybe, I could be more than the sum of my fears and insecurities.”

She paused, her eyes softening again as she looked at Lewis.

"We’ve been through it, haven’t we? And I don’t just mean the glamorous stuff. I’m talking about the hard nights, the distance, the moments where I didn’t know if we’d make it through.”

There was a soft murmur among the guests as Y/n’s voice lowered, the raw emotion in her words unmistakable.

“We’re standing here today because you never let go, even when I wasn’t sure I could hold on."

Then the room was silent once again, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

“You’ve taught me that love it’s something you choose, every single day. That it resides in the little things—the way you pull me closer when I need it, the way you let me push you away for a bit when I’m too scared to let you in. It’s about the quiet moments, when you’ve stayed by me even when I didn’t ask, because you knew I needed you. The times when you’ve held me together when I felt like falling apart.”

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly before she regained her composure.

“I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to love. I’ve put up walls, kept you at arm’s length because I was scared of what it might mean to really let you in. But you never gave up on me. You never walked away, even when I gave you every reason to.”

Y/n’s voice trembled, but she steadied herself with a deep breath.

“Falling for you felt like coming home. Like finding the place I was always meant to be, the place where all the chaos was worth it”

She looked back at Lewis, her eyes shining with and her voice thick.

"Lewis, you were my leap of faith. And trust me, I’ve never been a fan of heights. But with you, it’s all about rising. Rising above my fears, my insecurities, all the things that used to hold me back."

She paused, blinking back tears as she smiled at the guests.

“You’ve been my rock, my safe place, the one who’s seen me at my worst and still loved me through it all.”

She wiped her cheek with a shaky laugh.

“There’s something terrifying about that, isn’t there? The idea that someone could know you so completely, so intimately, and still choose to stay. You’ve chosen me, even when I wasn’t sure if I could choose myself.”

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling with emotion as she continued.

“I always think back to that night – you know the one – when I asked you if you’d catch me or if I’d have to learn to fly on my own. You didn’t hesitate. You just opened your arms and let me fall… fall into you.”

Y/n’s breathing trembled again.

“And that’s when I knew. No matter what happened, no matter where life took us, I’d never be alone. Because I had you. I had this incredible man who was willing to catch me, over and over again, no matter how many times I stumbled.”

Y/n’s voice broke slightly as she spoke her next words, her tears flowing freely now.

“I’ve always been scared of letting go, of giving myself over to someone completely. But with you, it doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like flying. Like coming home.”

Y/n took a moment to steady herself before she added, with a smile through her tears.

“Lewis, I’m all in. My husband, my partner, my leap of faith, you’re the one I choose, every day and in every way.”

Y/n wiped at the corner of her eye as she finished, giving Lewis’s hands that extra squeeze.

“So here’s to us, to our forever. I can’t promise I won’t drive you crazy, or that I’ll ever stop being a little bit of a mess, but I can promise to love you fiercely, endlessly, and with everything I have. Thank you for being my anchor, my safe place, and most importantly, for being you.

There was a pause as she took a last breath, her eyes never leaving his, her smile bright on her features.

"Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. Cheers—to love, to learning how to fly, to taking the leap."

______________________________________________________________

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