#after hearing with and interacting with others its like is it even worth it if ill still turn to my imagination...! like will it ever be
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8ft · 1 day ago
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THOUGHTS ON TOWER/ APOTHIOSIS?
tower they could never make me hate you. this got really long. it's going under a readmore. word of warning... this is kind of just about tower. i haven't gotten every apotheosis ending, so i don't feel like i'm ready to dissect her just yet. sorry!
tower was one of my original favorites when i picked the game up. a really fun fact is that i just... thought fury was her only chapter 3? i didn't clock how to get to apotheosis for a while and i had violence in my heart. she presses a lot of my The Character buttons, though. the ego. the ruthlessness. Big Woman.
her whole superiority thing makes her a bit hard to pick apart, but that's part of the appeal. we're the reason she's like this now. we're curious enough to listen to her, but apparently so intimidated by her that we roll over and cave the second she presents an actual threat. we've shown her that we'll follow. of course that's what she expects of us.
now, she's been given the power to actually force us to act against our will. and she's playing touys with it! (bffr if you were locked in a basement at the mercy of some giant bird with a knife and suddenly You were given the power in the situation would you not do the same) the first thing that comes to her mind to punish us for our defiance is to force us to slit our own throat. #girl. it's notable, though, the way she "eyes us with soft contemplation" beforehand. she really gave it a good ponder. made sure that it wasn't just a suitable punishment, but one that'd reinforce her position over us- dying by our own hand at her command. making us stab ourselves in the lungs after that is just overkill. barely even punishment anymore, moreso just a display of her own power. reinforcing to us- and to herself- that she is our god.
something i love to point out, though... the cabin and stairs being reflective of the princess' mental state isn't exactly the world's biggest revelation, but tower's accomplishes a few things. it dwarfs us, naturally, makes us feel Lesser... but it also establishes her viewpoint of Herself and Her destiny being the top priority. its size is built around Her comfort, everything else be damned.
her ability to get into our head and hear the voices / the narrator without actually needing to enter our body like the other vessels is also pretty fun! LOVE her dominating will. this appears to be unique to tower, too! apotheosis only remarks on the presence of the voices during a goddess unraveled, when you share your pain with her.
... actually going back into the scripts it's debatable whether or not she can hear the voices. she does kill the narrator and start piloting him, but the one interaction she has with any of the voices...
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i don't know. it could just be a lucky guess, sans style. i choose to believe the first option if only because it reinforces her divine image. anything for women!
ANOTHER fun thing... to get to the fury from her- (i pause for tomatoes to be thrown at me)- you, of course, have to try and slay her. that's not what gets her to break, though... it's the fact that she was brought to use her hands against you. THAT. is interesting. what's also worth noting is that, while she's admonishing us, she doesn't immediately start in the scary red text voice.
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she doesn't even have the echo.
the genuine disbelief is just... awesome. and hilarious. she's so utterly stunned by our insolence that she can't even put on the Scary Goddess Voice. so much of her is empty bluster. we've reminded her how small she actually is. she might be inches away from godhood, but she still exists in meatspace.
it was her own decision, after all. if she's so above it all, she could've easily, like, blown us up with her mind or whatever. cough. but she returned our violence. she not only smacked us so hard we bounced, but doubled down and ground us into the floor like an insect. twice in a row, she brings herself down to our level, and then blames us for forcing her hand.
the image tower presents is beautiful and overwhelming. that's what she needs to be to maintain her position. inside, she is childish and petty and cruel and i would not have her any other way.
uhhh... go listen to a few songs. THANKS FOR THE ASK!!!
night club - precious thing
cloudeater - hardly wait
night riots - nothing personal
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pseudowho · 10 months ago
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Behind the Wall
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Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?
A Nanami Kento glory hole story.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint
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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.
Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.
Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.
"About industry average, I think."
A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."
You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.
"Great pension plan, though."
"I somehow doubt that."
You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.
"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."
Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.
"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."
He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.
"Well, I can help with that."
Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.
The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.
"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"
A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.
"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"
Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.
You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.
"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.
"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"
You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.
"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."
When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.
"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."
You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.
"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."
"God, you really do need thi--"
Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.
"O-oh-- wow--"
Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.
His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.
"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."
"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"
A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."
You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.
"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.
"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."
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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.
You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.
"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."
You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.
"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."
"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"
You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.
"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"
A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."
You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."
Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.
Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"
Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"
"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"
You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.
Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.
"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"
"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."
You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.
You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.
"...you don't...don't have to--"
"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."
You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;
"Scarier monsters than them in the world."
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A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.
"...hey, you. I missed you last night."
He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.
"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"
"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."
"I'd talk to you for free."
A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.
"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"
Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.
"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."
A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."
You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.
"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."
"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."
You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.
"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."
He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"
"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."
A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.
"Alright...if you insist."
When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.
"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."
Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.
When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.
He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.
"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."
He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.
Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.
"And I'd do that for free, too."
It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.
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Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.
You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.
You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.
"Are you lonely, in there?"
You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.
"Not anymore."
There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.
"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."
You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"
"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."
You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.
"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."
Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...
"I...I've never done...that."
"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"
"Okay."
You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.
"Yes? You...are you sure?"
"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."
"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."
You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.
"This one is mine."
You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.
"Alright, here...here I come."
Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.
You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.
"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."
You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.
A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.
"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."
"Thank you."
"Do you trust me?"
"One hundred percent."
A pleased rumble. "Good girl."
Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.
By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.
"Does that feel good?"
"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.
This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.
He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.
You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.
"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"
At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.
"Tell me if you want me to stop."
"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."
His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.
Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.
"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."
Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.
Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.
"Come for me, my love."
As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.
"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"
"--don't you dare."
The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.
Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.
"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."
He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.
"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"
When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.
Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.
And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.
Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.
"Say...say my name..."
"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"
"Kento--"
"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"
The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.
"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."
Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.
"...Kento, huh?"
He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"
"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"
He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.
"I won't let you pay me for that--"
"--I absolutely fucking am--"
"--no you are not--"
After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.
"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"
You blinked, confused.
"Just...just the one. Right at the end."
Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.
Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.
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"I worried you wouldn't be here."
You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.
"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"
You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.
Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.
You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.
"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"
Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.
"Kento, you...see it too?"
"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"
You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.
"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."
"Kento, I can't just walk out--"
"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."
When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.
The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--
"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"
A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.
"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."
Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.
"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"
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thedemonsurfer · 2 months ago
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It's really not all that surprising that the Daycare Attendant ended up being so popular, to the point that there's a whole subsection of FNAF fandom that's p much just the DCA.
For starters, there's Security Breach itself. Security Breach is a vastly different FNAF game from its predecessors. Instead of being a jumpscare-driven task management simulator, it is a free-roam exploration and puzzle game, also with jumpscares. Instead of a security guard with their butt glued to their office chair, you're playing as a kid trapped in the mall. That difference in format and story setup attracted a whole new crowd of players to FNAF.
Next is character design. Unlike the majority of animatronics in the killer robot furry franchise, the DCA is a lanky, vaguely human shaped jester with a dinnerplate head and a creepy fixed smile. That appeals to folks who might not be as much into the robot furries, but like lanky creepy jesters (I am one of those people).
Security Breach also FINALLY develops the animatronics into actual characters, rather than interchangeable jumpscares. It's not a coincidence that prior to SB, the most popular animatronic was Springtrap-- an animatronic outright possessed by the defacto main antagonist of the series. I still remember the sheer fuzzy excitement upon hearing the first teaser trailer where we found out that we would be playing as a kid and that Freddy was our friend. That's still so cool! Freddy is our friend!
But character is where the Daycare Attendant really blows everyone else out of the water.
Sun is, after Freddy and Vanessa, the NPC with the most lines of dialogue (ten). Sun and Vanessa are the only antagonists that speak directly to Gregory, rather than just having vague hunting lines. For comparison, of the Glamrocks only Roxy has a single line of interaction with another animatronic ("Get out of my room, Freddy!") and her pep talk in the mirror at the start of the game. Monty and Chica might as well be interchangeable, both only having hunting lines.
Hell, out of Moon's nineteen voice lines, eight of them are laughs, blowing away Vanny's whopping two lines in the entire game.
Sun is the only* FNAF antagonist that does not have a jumpscare sting when he grabs Gregory, and is one of the few antagonists that does not kill the player upon jumpscaring them. Sun is outright non-hostile towards Gregory, coming off as overbearing but genuinely friendly. In a FNAF game.
Kellen Goff's phenomenal voice acting further fleshes out the DCA's character, giving us solid foundations for their personalities. Sun is anxious, friendly, and bossy. Moon is a downright giggle gremlin, sadistic and playful. Both of them are childish, and the contrast between their personalities and their job as child caretakers makes them stand out even more.
It's also worth mentioning that the Daycare is one of the earliest sections of the game, easily reached within the first thirty minutes of playtime. This makes it very likely to have been seen by people who either ended up not finishing the game itself, or any let's play series they were watching. It's also one of the most complete sections of the game, with clear, easy to understand mechanics and a decent challenge, making it more enjoyable to play than some of the later puzzles.
So, yeah. Why wouldn't there be a whole subsection of fandom built around some of the most well developed and interesting characters in the entire franchise, from an installment that attracted a new crowd of people who were probably already looking for something different from the traditional FNAF experience?
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*As far as I know there are no other FNAF animatronics that perform a jumpscare animation without an accompanying sound, but it's not impossible that there's someone in UCN that I've overlooked.
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hyunebunx · 5 months ago
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˖˙ ᰋ ──  our firsts (the one in which hyunjin can't wait to kiss you)
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i've had this one stare at me for months until i finally got around to finishing it recently. i feel kinda rusty but i hope you'll still enjoy it <3
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The thrill of a new relationship was exhilarating, full of euphoria and colorful, restless butterflies that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Your relationship with Hyunjin was fresh, in more ways than one. You’ve never experienced such intense feelings before, a bond so genuine and invigorating.
You were taking it slow and steady, discovering more of each other with every interaction. How he smelled, how he smiled when he was truly happy, eyes turning into two crescent moons, how he hugged you in greeting, a little tighter each time.
Hyunjin was made of layers you had to contain yourself from peeling all at once, afraid your eagerness would scare him off for good. Kind, compassionate, and with a heart of gold, your new lover was everything you could ever ask for in a partner.
Every new side of him, you haven’t experienced before, was endearing. How his fingers held onto yours, leisurely, before intertwining them when he needed to feel you closer, palm to palm. How his touch lingered on your cheek, slowly trailing down your jaw and neck, almost like he was preparing to kiss you. Which hasn’t happened yet, unfortunately, almost a month into your relationship.
A part of you was disappointed, there was no denying it. But at the same time, you knew his affection was going to be worth the wait. After all, there was no rush, you had all the time in the world.
Tonight was another one of your firsts – the first movie night at your apartment. A comfortable date night spent by the TV, with some good food, a great show, and even better company. An amazing plan in both of your books, your introverted natures meshing together quite lovely.
“Hi, beautiful.” He greets the moment he’s let in, voice soft and tender, smiling brightly as he leans down to kiss the side of your head, spreading his warmth throughout your whole body.
You watch him remove his shoes, placing them neatly by the door before you pull him into a hug by his opened hoodie. Your arms go around his middle while your head rests on his chest. “Hi.”
Hyunjin relaxes in an instant, returning the embrace and squeezing you tighter, as expected. “I – “ You can hear the hesitation in his voice, mulling over his next words as if letting them out would somehow change everything. “I missed you.” He whispers, shy as his face finds solace in your hair.
Flowers bloom in your chest, heart pounding against its enclosure at an alarming pace he was sure to feel resonating through his body. But that was okay because his own was responding in kind. “I missed you too.”
“I’m glad.” Hyunjin says with a little more confidence, finally pulling away and allowing you to see his beautiful face.
You weren’t usually this straightforward, navigating this relationship with as much care as possible, so his boldness was a little surprising. But not unpleasant, if anything you couldn’t wait for him to open up more, to fully bloom into himself around you.
Taking his hand in yours, you then lead him into the living room that has been awaiting his arrival with bated breath, everything set up for your comfort.
You make small talk, asking about each other’s day and what the other has been up to since the last time you met, a week ago. It’s peaceful, the atmosphere light and comfortable as you drift toward one another without much thought, sides pressed together as you browse the selection of movies.
“What do you feel like watching?” You ask, facing him.
Hyunjin shrugs, leaning back into his seat, one of his arms thrown over the couch behind you. “Whatever your precious heart desires.”
Said heart flutters, thumping a little too loudly at being acknowledged in such a way. “The Notebook?”
He laughs, eyes crinkling into two crescents. “Do you want to see me cry? Is that why I was invited over?”
“We can cry together.” You offer, smiling. “I’ve been wanting to watch this one with you for a long time.”
“Why?” He tilts his head, eyes full of fondness as his ears gradually redden. You both knew what the movie was about and the passionate scenes that were sure to have you squirming in your seats, too shy for your own good.
“Because it’s the epitome of romance and true love!”
Hyunjin is beaming, chuckling lowly at the slight pout on your lips that has him give in instantly. “Alright then. Can’t wait to have my heart ripped out of my chest!”
You shake your head, passing him the remote before standing up to get the food you prepared in advance. “That won’t happen while I’m here.”
“Why? You’re going to put it back together?” He teases, neck craned to look after you like a man enthralled.
“Always.”
You don’t notice the surprise that takes over his features as he’s already sporting a smile when you return, handing him a plate before settling next to him, farther than before to ensure there’s enough space to make eating comfortable.
With the lights dimmed, your movie night starts uneventfully, with little to no talking since you’re both too focused on your food to multitask. But little by little, you’re scooting closer, wanting to feel each other’s warmth and hear the unspoken words of affection neither was brave enough to say out loud.
“I’ve drawn this scene before.” Hyunjin murmurs just as you move to snuggle into his chest, instantly accommodating you with one arm draped over your shoulders bringing you closer as if he’s been waiting for this moment. You settle into his embrace like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and not your actual first time cuddling with him like this. Another milestone in your new relationship leaving its mark, a welcomed guest whose sole purpose was to ensure neither strayed away from the path of true love.
“Really?” You tear your gaze from the television just as the characters begin playing around with their ice creams, laughing and being silly before it quiets down as their lips meet over and over again. “You’ve drawn them making out?”
Hyunjin is mesmerized by the faint sparkle in your eyes as he looks down at you, the light from the television caressing your side profile tenderly while not concealing any of your beauty. He’s silent for a few seconds more before his eyes drop to your glossy lips and he can’t help but lick his own, inhaling sharply. “No.” A laugh escapes him against his will, still distracted. “The scene right after.”
You quirk an eyebrow, bravely reaching out to trace his sharp jawline, just as distracted. “What’s so great about that scene? Wouldn’t you have rather captured the climax?”
He leans into your touch, eyelids suddenly heavy as they struggle to keep blinking and not give in to his desires. With great difficulty, Hyunjin feels around for the remote, subsequently pulling you closer as he fast-forwards the movie to the scene of interest, your chest brushing against his while both of your legs slip into the space between his.
Then, with the utmost gentleness, his fingers settle on your chin and move your head towards the screen, silver rings cold against your heated skin. Hyunjin paused the movie at the perfect time—the girl is smiling from ear to ear while her boyfriend nuzzles her cheek, smothering her with endless affection.
“I wanted to capture the genuine happiness on their faces. People are even more beautiful when they’re in love. Just look at them – they’re glowing.”
But by now, you’re back to looking at him, burning the image of his side profile with all of his beauty marks to memory for safekeeping. “So are you.”
Slowly, Hyunjin meets your eyes, releasing your chin. “What?”
“You also glow when you talk about something you’re passionate about. Something you love.”
He’s taken aback, you can tell by the way his eyes widen slightly, mouth parting as he searches for the right words to respond. You’re so close you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he shallows, memorize the way his chest moves up and down with every breath that hits your face.
In this moment, the only ones who matter are you and him.
“You think so?”
“I know so. After all, I’m always watching you when we’re together.”
Hyunjin stills, and so do you as the meaning behind your confession hits you both at the same time.
“That’s impossible.” He eventually shakes his head, tucking some hair behind your ear as his voice drops. “I can never seem to be able to look away when you’re nearby. I would have noticed.”
“Like I notice everything about you.”
His touch is tender, so featherlight that if you weren’t hyper-aware of everything involving him, you wouldn’t have felt it. Hyunjin leans closer, brushing his nose against yours and smiling once your breath hitches. “The way your whole face lights up when someone tells a joke.” Nimble fingers caress your face, eyes staring past your exterior in search of the heart you’ve already presented to him on the shiniest silver platter.
“How you hold my hand a little tighter whenever you’re really happy.” He continues, said hand moving to cradle the back of your head.
“I only get that happy when I’m with you.” You breathe out, allowing your hands to rest on his chest, not looking away in fear of missing the feelings showcased all over his face, ones he still hasn’t found the courage to speak out loud.
Hyunjin looks like he wants to continue, but his eyes keep dropping to your lips, his own inching closer but not close enough to meet yet, silently waiting for your next move. For your approval, your comfort above anything else in the world for him.
When you do the same, your arms wrapping around his neck, he finally caves in.
It’s soft, his plump lips enveloping yours in the sweetest kiss you’ve ever tasted. The ever-patient man takes his time, melting against you as his other hand gently grasps your chin to keep you in place, bringing you close almost like he wants to merge souls.
The only thing you can hear in the quiet apartment is your heart pounding – or maybe it's his? Nobody knows where you end and he starts anymore, intertwined as you get lost in each other. You’ve wanted this for so long, daydreamed about it for hours on end and you’re happy to realize it’s so much better than anything your mind could ever come up with.
A little too soon after, Hyunjin pulls away, blinking as if he just woke up from a daze. His hand drops from your chin, finding solace on your waist as your eyes engage in a silent conversation your mouths couldn’t keep up.
Unfortunately for him, you’re impatient, so after making sure his lungs are filled with the needed air, you make your move, kissing him again. A quiet gasp escapes him as he falls backwards on the couch, cushioning your fall with his strong body, the corners of his mouth curling into an uncontrollable smile against your lips.
Kissing Hyunjin isn’t like anything you’ve experienced before. It’s electric and warm, something out of a movie, like fireworks going off on new years or witnessing flowers bloom for the first time in spring. An out of body experience that transports you to cloud nine the moment you touch him, the moment his hands make contact with any part of your body and leave behind sparks meant to keep everyone else that isn’t him away.
On top of him, you try to hold yourself up with your hands on his chest but he refuses, his arm around your middle keeping you flush against him as his lips teach yours a new dance. You have two left feet but somehow, Hyunjin makes it all seem easy, comfortable, and right like kissing him is an activity you’ve been doing for as long as you can remember.
When you pull away to breathe, he comes back to peck your puffy lips, one, two, and then three times before he’s grinning from ear to ear, the sight blinding your eyes that have gotten used to the darkness around for all of these years.
“Sorry.” He giggles sheepishly when it dawns on him his arm is still preventing you from moving. “I’ve just been waiting a lifetime to do this. I didn’t want it to end so soon.”
By now, your poor heart is nothing more than a puddle, leaking through your whole body and painting your insides in the color of the love that always seemed to overwhelm you, the feelings you could only thank him for. The love that had his name written in every nook and cranny of your existence, the one that marked and has changed you for the better in such a short amount of time.
You could spend a lifetime loving Hwang Hyunjin. And that’s exactly what you planned on doing.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago
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Hiii how are you? Could i please request a jealousy fic with jason and dick, like how would they react? What would they do about it? I'm sorry its reallyyy cliche, but i love it anyway💕
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Hi anon! I’ve been fine, been taking lots of power naps whenever I can, especially after work, but I’ve fine.
Jason’s jealously more or less comes from a place of insecurity.
He fears that one interaction with the right guy/ girl/ whomever would be enough to make you see that there were better options out there than him.
He never doubts your loyalty to him, never. He wasn’t that pathetic. He just didn’t trust everyone else that even looked at you in the same light as he did on the daily, and it was extremely evident when Jason didn’t like the looks of someone; Furrowed brows over narrowed judging eyes, his form practically towering over you protectively as he stares down the person whom he believes might take you from him.
His protectiveness tends to spike up periodically the moment he see the person get a little too close for comfort and he would clench his jaw to prevent himself from saying something he might regret later on; Jason tries to restrain himself for your sake but it was blatantly obvious that he was on the brink of exploding.
So when you both got home Jason didn’t waste any time in letting you know how he felt during the entire interaction after having forced himself to hold his own tongue.
‘Did you find that person attractive?’ He’d ask.
‘No.’ you said. ‘were you jealous?’
‘I thought me staring down the poor bastard was evident enough.’ Jason scoffs and you hugged his waist all the while pressing reassuring kisses at the base of his neck, when his hands reached to hold yours and intertwine your fingers together.
‘I know that you know I love you very much, no one else catches my eye when I have you,’ you reassured as you pressed another kiss to his neck, ‘my beautiful boy, my beautiful jay birdie.’ You added in a whisper as Jason felt the last remnants of jealously fade away into the background with every kiss you gave him.
‘Are you sure you can see yourself being with me? long term I mean.’ He then says as he squeezed your hands in his search of comfort from you and it broke your heart when he didn’t see himself the way you did, but you were more then willing to kiss and cuddle away his troubles if it meant reminding him of his worth.
‘Without question.’ You confidently told him, squeezing his hands. ‘I don’t see myself with anyone else but you because even though you may not think it, you are more then enough and you are not broken, to me you are whole and you are perfect.’ You finished by pressing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and resting your head there as you focused on his breathing.
‘Can…can we just forget about all this and just cuddle like any other cliche couples do?’ Jason asked, finding himself feeling a lot better upon hearing you laugh against his back as a smile crossed his face.
‘Sure big guy.’ You replied. ‘We can go cuddle now.’
And with that Jason was quick to pick you up in his arms and carry you off towards the bedroom where you inevitably feel asleep in the other’s arms, happy and content.
Dick wasn’t one to speak up on his emotions much, which was something that he knew he could better work on for the sake of your relationship with him.
He’s seen himself in the mirror. He knows his own appeal very well but physical appearance were secondary to you as it was his personality that won you over in the end. However he knew that beauty was subjective and that one day you might come across someone more physically appealing than him.
He’d act as though nothing was wrong but if you could easily tell something was off by just his stance alone, crossed arms over chest and a look in his eyes, as though he was trying to deduce the person you were trying to have a civil conversation with.
He may stand close to you and put a hand on your waist or throw an arm over your shoulders, pull you into his side and press a kiss to your forehead with a smile plastered across his face, but he wouldn’t say a word in hopes that would be enough to get across to the person that you were very much taken.
Upon arriving home however, Dick acts he wasn’t even remotely jealous to begin with, despite the glaring fact that he very much was.
‘Me? Jealous?’ He asks incredulously but upon seeing your face, he knew that this act of his had long since stopped working the moment you grew the ability to read him.
‘Yes, you were and you weren’t even trying to make it discreet at all.’ You told him as you settled aside your things on the kitchen counter and sighed. ‘I just wish you would talk to me about these things so that we could get this together like couples should.’
Dick frowned as he moved next to you and gently took your hand in his own, caressing it. ‘I know and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more open and honest with you it’s just-‘
‘You find it difficult to do so I know.’ You cut him off, looking him in the eyes. ‘I don’t blame you for that and I never would, you know that but I just wished that you trust me more to speak to me about these things.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand. ‘I only want to help you.’
Dick kisses your forehead. ‘I know you do and I appreciate it very much.’ He whispered against your skin. ‘I just don’t know what you see in me sometimes, nor do I understand how you could have possibly put up with me as long as you have given how closed off I can be sometimes.’ He adds as he pulls away, his heart weighing heavily in his chest as he awaits your response.
‘I stay with you because I love you stupid.’ You said softly as you bumped his shoulder with your own. ‘And maybe because Hayley is too cute a pup to ever leave.’
‘I had a feeling Hayley was a major factor in you staying.’ Dick laughed. ‘Can’t say I blame you though, she is indeed very cute.’ He adds as he looks over at the staffy, who was very much fast asleep in her little bed in the living room before looking back to you with gentle eyes. ‘But I’m glad that you did stay. I love you too, dummy.’ He utters softly as he nudged you with his shoulder, vowing to himself to do better by you from this day forth.
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thydungeongal · 7 months ago
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Neoclassical Geek Revival is a really weird game. While the name would make one think it's some crusty OSR game that is mostly just remixing old ideas that could not be further from the truth. It's a strange game that is in many ways very old school but is more than a simple heartbreaker (mostly because in contrast to the archetypal heartbreakers this game is clearly written with an awareness of movements and games within the hobby besides just D&D).
First of all, it's a game that is particularly interested in its own weird dice and number tricks. Dice can explode. Sometimes you're specifically looking for the maximum of a given die (for an example: if a character is out of combat for maximum of d6 rounds, marked as ?d6, it means it's checked every round by rolling a d6 and on a 6 they are no longer out). There is a dice chain where dice can "increase" or "decrease" in strength, like a d10 becoming a d12 or a d8 becoming a d6. You can INVERT dice, so a d4 becomes a d12 or a d10 becomes a d6. Besides a normal linear progression, some rules utilize a cumulative progression of 1, 3, 6, 10, 15, etc.
Then you start getting into the specifics and things are once again weird: there are classes but instead of picking one class and sticking to it you basically build your character by allocating pieces into the different classes. Level 1 characters start with three pieces of pie. You COULD allocate all three into Warrior, to make a pretty straightforward fighty type, or you might want to mix it up by adding a single piece of Bard into two pieces of Warrior for something not unlike a warlord, kinda. The number of pieces you allocate to a class also ends up affecting a specific modifier, used in a wide variety of conflicts. Warrior adds to Combat, Rogue affects Stealth, Mystic affects Occult, Bard affects Presence, and any pieces allocated to Fool (basically the class that represents someone who survives adventures based on pure luck instead of skill) affect Faith.
This is where you get one of the things that sets the game apart from most OSR games: many old school games are often based around the idea of singleton mechanics and procedures to cover specific situations. NGR rejects this in favor of a single conflict system that then gets applied to situations besides combat! It is literally what some people think of when they hear mechanics for social interaction, i.e. dealing 1d6 rhetorical damage to an opponent's argument to get them to relent, but applied to multiple different situations.
Interestingly, the game does not have hit points: all damage accrues against stats. In an argument "social damage" (called Influence) accrues against a character's Will, and once it exceeds it the character has lost the argument. But characters have a pool called Luck (which you can increase by allocating pieces to Fool) which can be used 1:1 to mitigate damage of all kinds. The game even has tricks for FORCING opponents to spend Luck, as a means to chip at their defences before targeting them with something that REALLY hurts (like insulting an opponent in a physical conflict).
The game also has no list of spells, instead just giving players the systems for making their own spells. Same with monsters in fact.
And sometimes you just get hit with a rule that makes you think "why has no other game ever done this." Like the rule for giving experience in dungeon crawl focused campaigns where each new room explored after the first is worth 10 cumulative XP. So if characters end up exploring five new rooms they get 100 XP (after the first one, 1+2+3+4 times 10).
Anyway it's a neat game, worth looking at and mining ideas from imo.
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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago
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Can I request John Constantine fic where the reader is a eldritch or an angel that's known the league for a while or they capture them but John knows them.
I'm a literal whore for that man 👹
John Constantine x Angel male reader
Headcanons
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Reader’s bit of a black sheep amongst angels, cuz I feel like Constantine would go great with a bit of a rebel.
its honestly taken me too long to realize that lucifer from the show is the same lucifer as in the DC comics.
You had a bit of a past with John Constantine, with you being a bit of a rulebreaker amongst the angels and all. I mean, you still went to visit your brother Lucifer on the regular, even if you had been told not to.
Michael had scolded you more times than you could count, telling you not to pop in and out of hell as you please just because you want too, or to not just teleport to earth willy-nilly when Lucifer relocated there for a while.
It was at Lucifers club that you met Constantine for the first time. You didn’t really speak to him, but you did see how he seemed to truly get on your older brothers’ nerves, so you already liked him for that alone.
After the blonde Brit left, Lucifer would give you the whole spiel about him, complaining about how many times he had sold his soul, and all the trouble his actions caused in hell, and how much paperwork the blonde gave him.
After that you bump into him in other places. You like to party, you like to fight, you like to be a nuisance. And its not like anybody can stop an angel as powerful as yourself if they wanted. They’re lucky you just like to be annoying by nature and that you aren’t actually evil.
It ends up with you getting mixed up in some of the things Constantine get up too, even if its by accident because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You always just know that Michael is gonna be on your neck when you get back to heaven after each time, but hanging out with John is worth it.
Hes tried to get you drunk so many times, but it never works no matter what kind of stuff he pulls out of his coat. Being angelic doesn’t really allow you to be weakened by something as small as alcohol. But its fun to see him try anyways.
In the eyes of your siblings, even Lucifer, Constantine is a bad influence, and they’ll scold you for spending so much time with a mortal, especially someone as twisted on the ledgers as Constantine. You just always shrug, flutter your wings, and fly off to do whatever it is you do. Being the youngest has its perks, since it means you get away with quite a lot.
It was also this carefree attitude that got you caught and locked up by the league. They hadn’t dealt with many angels before, so in the beginning they think you are something else. Be It a mutant or a spirit.
You could easily escape if you wanted too. Something as weak as a man-made structure wasn’t gonna hold you, but you had been bored for weeks now, so why not see what happens. You do get pretty annoyed when they talk about you like you cant hear them. They don’t know you can hear them, but still.
Zatanna easily spots that you are of divine descent, but just how far up in the hierarchy you are is a bit lost to her, since they still believe you can be captured by human means. This is why they’re forced to call in Constantine, since hes the only one they know who regularly interacts with an angel.
The Brit has a good laugh when he sees you sitting on the floor in a cell pouting, your wings wrapped around you like a cocoon. At this point you just phase out of the cell to flick Constantine in the temple for laughing at you.
John is the one that has to explain that you could have escaped the entire time if you wanted, you were just a dick that got bored easily. The dick comment makes you huff and smack him with your wing.
After all that is cleared up, the two of you go out to drink like usual. I could imagine the league trying to figure out if you’d be willing to help them when times are tough, but to their dismay you just shrug and give a “if I feel like it”.
Constantine will later explain to them in passing, mainly to roast you, that you are the youngest, which means that you aren’t used to real work and can just do whatever you want, cuz all your older siblings baby you.
His chair disappears from right under him for that comment, so the league takes it with a grain of salt. In the end you help out if there really is no other way, since angels shouldn’t interfere with minor issues.
Most of the time on earth you spend with John though, since he matches your wavelength and isn’t freaked out by the whole angel thing.
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mikakuna · 11 days ago
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babygirl jason anon here again!💖
I also completely agree that jason's type is older people. (Sladejay and Constantine x Jason are my fav ships, jason absolutely endears himself to older men who hate everyone else and treat him like a princess that could kill them, very fiona from shrek vibes if you catch me).
But ppl talk about jason looking like bruce alot, but i think one day he's staring at himself in the mirror and realizes its willis staring back at him, and that warms his heart so he grows his hair out, just to the base of his neck so he can embrace his curls. He gets piercings he always wanted, 2 in each lobe, an industrial maybe. And i think distancing himself from the bats a bit gives him back a healthy glow in his eyes, because he's not fighting to prove his worth to people who keep moving the goal post.
And maybe the bats see him again, with roy and kori at some big world ending fiasco, helmet off, laughing and smiling and looking happy and they realize that they have not seen him happy in a long time.
I'm obsessed with the idea of the JLA and another heroes meeting jason after having only heard news of his actions or the bats biased perception of things. but meeting jason completely changes things because he's magnetic, just so charming and intelligent and unfairly fucking gorgeous. Especially when they get him started on things he loves. Gotham, books, cooking, kids.
Roy has his hand around Jason's waist, looking at him fondly. Kori fondly runs a hand through his curls. Jason being loved and accepted for just being who he is without having to shape and distort himself of his morals.
I have many thoughts about jason and the wider hero community, of him finally pushing off the isolation that Batman forced on him both as Robin and now as Red Hood by controlling the narrative around him.
But when i get more babygirl jason thoughts i will send then your way!!
HIIIIIII i love you so much♥️ im sorry for getting to this late but i hope my reply, long reply, makes up for it!!
jason is SOOO fiona from shrek coded omg wait he deserves that kind of princess treatment. he's not afraid to be himself and if that means being flawed or being disapproved by society (other heroes + bats) then fuck it. he's still gonna be himself and not let other people, especially those who have let him down, change him. very fiona of him to get with people everyone else would disapprove of.
ofc i love sladejay but i've never actually read any constantine x jason content!! this is probably my first time hearing about it in a romantic context and not platonic. I WANNA HEAR MOREEE
yes yes yes to jason specifically going after older men. it's not even that he's doing it consciously. they just always happen to be older than him and they're usually the ones seeking him out. he has that mistreated puppy look that attracts older dudes and makes them wanna spoil him with love and that gruff affection. very healing for his daddy issues to be treated with unconditional love for once by an older man who could very well be his dad. it's a dangerous game to play considering his age and theirs but it always works out (to the absolute appall of bruce)
your description of his new, healthy look is everything. i also love the hc that he looks like willis since i don't really fw the one that he looks like bruce specifically. anyways he should look like his papa who thought of him as his prince of gotham :( jason with longer hair and piercings is so pretty he deserves it. if that red hood webcomic wasn't so ass i would've liked his character design
i too am a firm believer that jason becomes ten times more beautiful when he's happy and not constantly emotionally drained from his interactions with the bats who only ever expect the worst from him. the glow!!! the sound of his unrestrained laughter!!! the twinkle in his eyes!!!!!!! you truly never look better than when there isn't an ugly bitch constantly thinking the worst of you
OMG dude i was just thinking about that justice league hc <3 most heroes knew jason as robin and still fell for bruce/the bats' propaganda 🥀 but hey at least it makes for great content of them meeting red hood jason for the first time and becoming instantly enamoured. i need it shoved in every hero's face that jason is smart as hell and not the stone cold killer he's rumoured to be.
and yes you're so right about jason having been isolated. he deserves to break free from that isolation since it very clearly still exists in his red hood days.
can't lie because i enjoyed his teamup with kori and roy but i love art and biz sooo much more because they're just for jason rather than having been dick's people first. need the bats seeing how happy he is with other people </3
thank you for this anon i loved hearing your thoughts!! (sorry this got long) and YES PLEASEE i will always want to hear more baby girl jason thoughts ♥️
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libraryraccoon · 1 year ago
Note
So I got this idea of an Idia Reader who is an overlord (making some high tech prosthetic or another things that Vox himself can’t make easily) and forced to go attend an overlord meeting and imagine the panic attack he would have if Alastor or worse Valentino interacted with them.
Probably locks themselves in a their room for three months after the meeting.
Gender : GN
Pronouns : None
Message of Raccoon : I can just imagine Vox and Idia!Reader being two bestfriends that have rivalry for fun.
Info : Idia!Reader being an overlord in the Vees.
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General Headcanon
You were one of the Overlords of the Vees.
But compared to the others, you didn't like the attention.
The recluse of the Vees, that's who you were.
You hated leaving your room, preferring to use your tablet to see/talk with others.
But one day, you were forced to show up at one of the Overlords meetings. Irl.
When you entered the room, all the overlords asked you who you were.
"Who are you ?" -Carmilla.
"The one who almost doxxed all of you. Idia!Reader." -you, already wanting to go back to your room.
It was the first time they saw you, like really saw you. Not through a tablet, but irl.
You sat between Rosie and Alastor, a mistake.
The two kept talking and adding you into the conversation. You wanted to die again.
They were nice and polite, yes, but you didn't like socializing. You preferred solitude and calm to having to socialize.
You regretted having taken this place instead of putting yourself next to Zestial, who is calm and silent.
"Oh ! Did you hear about what Jack did ?" -Rosie.
“No, what did he do ?”-Alastor.
"He fucked his wife's sister, then ate the said sister. His wife found him and then ate Jack." -Idia!Reader.
If there was tea, it would have been perfect.
Carmilla give you a look that can be translated as "Good luck, we're not together."
You will doxx her later as punishment for not helping you.
The meeting was pretty good, except for the moment you had to talk and socialize.
Your social anxiety suffered greatly during this meeting.
When you entered the Vees tower, you wanted to go to your room but the others Vees stopped you.
Valentino and Velvette congratulated you for coming out of your shithole room.
But you know what was the worst ? When Vox saw you, he asked why you had placed yourself next to his enemy, Alastor.
Vox gave you an hour-long lecture on why what you did was wrong.
You just wanted to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of the eternity.
But you couldn't.
Why ? Because Rosie and Alastor have come for you.
Apparently you have become their friends, without your consent.
Once a week you had to go out and spend time with Alastor and/or Rosie.
And you couldn't even run away because the two always know where to find you.
You are gossip friends. I will not accept otherwise.
You have the pass to touch Alastor. You use it to touch his ears because DEER EAR !!
You do the same with his tail, because DEER TAIL !!! (He tries to hide his tail from you)
I headcanon that you have a picture with you, Rosie and Alastor on it.
Let's pretend you were there during the meeting about the angel.
Carmilla paid you $3000 (or whatever the money is in hell) for not talking about her killing an angel.
You took the money before telling to Rosie and Alastor everything.
If she ever finds out, you're dead, but don't worry, it was worth it.
I headcanon that your hair (or at least a part of your hair) is made of fire, and that the Vees, Alastor and Rosie want to touch it.
Alastor and Rosie love seeing your hair changing its colors depending on your emotions, it always betrays you and they find it amusing.
Alastor using the Aromantic charm on you to see you get frustrated and see your hair changing its color is canon.
Alastor has already brought you to the Hazbin Hotel..
When I say that you said what you thought out loud and you were brutal with your words, I don't think you realize how much that was-
You were banned from the hotel by Vaggie while Alastor was just watching and laughing.
You felt hurt, betrayed by your friend.
“Oh yeah, that’s how it is now, every man for himself.”
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rinkkuma · 1 year ago
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୨୧ SOUR GRAPES
don't get me wrong, i've never exactly liked you.
ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro
tags. a tiny bit ooc satoru, very light angst, gn!reader, mostly fluff ! / author's note. inspired by the song, sour grapes by lesserafim :3 (also its insane that theyve literally almost debuted two years ago) essentially just feelings in denial kinda!
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SATORU is naturally a smooth talker, so he personally believes that he has never actually had a crush on anyone. sometimes he unintentionally flirts with people. one time, a waitress seemed to be super flustered, but all he did was order. (it was his tone of voice, but he's super unaware.. and maybe his stupid, handsome face) so, when suguru and shoko asked him one day if he had a crush on you, he was confused why they would think so. in their perspectives, satoru's tone of voice was softer around you, he wasn't just mindlessly “flirting” with you, his compliments seemed genuine. and to top it off, you are always the first person he looks at when he cracks a joke. satoru himself noticed this but had no idea why he had done this. he also felt his heart race around you. and his face felt hot around you. despite being flirty, he had never actually dated anyone, so the feeling was new to him. maybe a little more convincing from suguru and shoko was all it took for him to realize that he did like you.
YUTA and you are childhood friends, and people often mistake you for a couple. even your friends ship you. yuta nervously laughs and says, “we're practically siblings! we've known each other since we were little.” you on the other hand, feel dejected when he says this, because you maybe kind of had a fat crush on him. truthfully, yuta himself feels that he may have been developing feelings for you over the past few years, but has been terrified to say something because he didn't want to ruin your years worth of friendship over his stupid feelings. he had a nightmare one night that he had confessed to you, and you looked at him with a puzzled face and told him you thought of him more as a brother than anything. he comically woke up sweating and sat right up, thankful that it was just a dream. that whole day, yuta seemed off. seemingly avoiding you, and if he couldn't, it was minimal interaction. after a few days of yuta's odd behavior, you decide to confront him. yuta mindlessly mumbles some random things that you couldn't understand, but towards the end, he suddenly confesses. yuta himself looks surprised at what he said, and he awkwardly says, “oh.. just, uh.. pretend you didn't hear anything if you don't feel the same. it was.. an accident.” you laugh and tell him you have felt the same all these years, and he breathes a sigh of relief. you and yuta went on a date the next day.
SUGURU is typically kind, calm, and gentle with everyone, but with you? he seems to be slightly more snappy and has a cold tone of voice. it's not like he's being rude or mean to you; he just seems irritated. whenever you laugh at one of satoru's jokes, you swear his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and he is loudly sighing. maybe it's because you're annoyingly pretty and your laugh is so cute that he's annoyed. or maybe the fact that he's not the one making you laugh. and don't even get me started when it's just the two of you. awkward silence. you could hear crickets chirping, a pin drop, and the subtle breathing. you have tried multiple times to start a conversation and maybe break this romantic tension, but he has always just dryly responded and kept the conversation one-sided. and this wasn't just a few times; it was daily. every single day, satoru and shoko randomly leave, and you've tried tagging along before to avoid the awkwardness with suguru, but they quickly run off before you get the chance to ask. it was painfully obvious to satoru and shoko that you two had liked each other and hey, maybe if they keep leaving the two of you alone like this, one of you will crack and confess. (spoiler: it was suguru first.)
YUUJI has always thought you were an amazing person. romantically though? he thought otherwise. but, oh boy, one day when he saw you with a guy he had never seen in his life, his mind changed immediately. he quickly thinks to himself, “you're not even dating in the first place. don't get jealous. dontgetjealousdontgetjealous.” yuuji nearly loses it when he sees the guy hug you. he uses every cell in his body to resist running up to the guy and maybe or maybe not swinging at him. after a few eye twitches deep breaths, he starts to walk in your direction as if he were casually passing by and coincidentally ran into you. when he makes eye contact with you, he smiles before saying, “oh, hey y/n! watcha doing here?” while his smile seemed a little forced, you brushed it off. you wave back to him and tell him that you saw a cousin of yours after not seeing him for a few years. relief immediately washed over yuuji, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.
MEGUMI is oblivious. his face is clearly flushed, and his words are slightly jumbled whenever he's around you. this became even more clear when one day, yuuji and nobara had interrogated him about why his face is always red around you. which of course, he denied. he simply says, “it was hot out, that's all.” they see right through megumi's “lie.” yuuji and nobara both look at each other before bursting out laughing. “it's literally winter, fushiguro.” megumi rolled his eyes and moved on with his day. (he was secretly praying they didn't make a big deal about it, but he knows damn well they probably did) yuuji and nobara on the other hand, ran to tell you that it was quite literally confirmed that megumi liked you too! after they told you about what they had just witnessed, (mind you, they were speaking fast as hell so it was hard to understand, but you got the general idea) they started dragging you towards megumi's location. they didn't even give you a chance to oblige against it because they couldn't let this chance go to waste! they've been watching the tension between you and megumi for the past few months, and they were sick of it! and oh boy, when you were finally face-to-face with megumi.. it was awkward. like 3 minutes of awkward silence. but, it ended with megumi asking you out, so hey!
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inspired by this prompt list <3
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eveningepiphany · 2 years ago
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welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot
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my masterlist!
summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.
warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!
a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.
also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig
———
There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.
That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.
You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.
You’d waited years just to get here in general.
When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.
But you’re here. At the front.
You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.
A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.
Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.
But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.
Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.
You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.
Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.
“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.
You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.
“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.
Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”
Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.
“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.
“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.
You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”
You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.
“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.
“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.
You could stay in this moment forever.
As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.
You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.
Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.
Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.
Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.
And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”
“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.
Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.
The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.
You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.
You were enamoured by him.
Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.
His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.
“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.
“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.
He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”
You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.
But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.
From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.
But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.
This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.
And then he reads the sign.
‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’
His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.
You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.
“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.
As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.
However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.
He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.
“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”
“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.
You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.
Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.
‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.
A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.
“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.
He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.
“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.
“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”
A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”
Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.
You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.
“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.
He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”
You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.
The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.
Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.
“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.
“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.
“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”
And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.
You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.
And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.
But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.
You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.
It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.
To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.
Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”
You blow a kiss back.
And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.
Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.
You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.
Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.
———
Post love on tour depression is a real thing.
There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.
But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.
The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.
And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.
The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.
You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.
You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.
It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”
It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.
That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.
Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.
“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.
He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.
He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.
“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.
You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.
But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.
You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.
“Hi…” You flush profusely.
“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.
Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.
The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.
That are very intensely locked onto yours…
“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”
He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”
“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.
“Y/N.” He tuts gently.
“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.
“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.
“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.
“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.
Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?
You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.
“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”
“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.
“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.
You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.
He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.
Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.
You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.
Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.
Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.
You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.
You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.
You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”
He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.
“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.
“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.
“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,
“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”
Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”
He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.
In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.
“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.
The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.
“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.
“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.
“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.
“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”
He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”
“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.
“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.
“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.
“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”
“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.
“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.
“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”
He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.
You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.
Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.
The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.
He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.
Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.
You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.
But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.
You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”
He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”
A friend of his?
“Alright, bye, I love you.”
And just like that the phone hung up.
“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.
“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.
You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.
“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.
It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.
“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”
“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”
As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.
Your brain stalls at his comment.
“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.
“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”
“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.
“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.
You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”
He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”
“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”
You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”
He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.
You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.
“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”
You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”
He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.
You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.
“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.
“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.
He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.
“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.
Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.
You check your phone to see the time.
1:53pm
1 new notification
Unknown Number | :)
So that actually did just happen.
———
To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,
so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?
And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.
———
part two!!
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in1-nutshell · 11 months ago
Note
Hello, A request of TF RID 2015 or Rescue Bots,
I kinda had this thought in this, Bot Buddy who's an very old Dinobot (and has an alt mode like a Plesiosaur or aquatic dino)
Bot has been on earth and probably been raised by Earth inhibitants ever since (probably in Dino era?), they didn't know anything about cybertron and still loves/cares, including having knowledge/intellect about Earth, including the changes, wars, etc.
Bot known as a gentle giant, has grandmother vibes, yet curious and somewhat child-like personality and dislike violence of any sort yet can be passive-aggressive and sometimes protective/aggressive for their friends/family
Bot always on her Dino mode (they don't know they can transform or not?). They kinda famous(?) to inhibitants, human (and creatures), on earth that they know about Bot's existence
How would the Autobots react/interact with this Buddy the Old Dinobot.
New Buddy!
Hope you enjoy!
Old Dinobot Buddy
SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader
RB
Buddy didn’t remember much about her life before arriving to Earth.
She did remember the war, but the details were blurry.
Did she even have a mission on this planet or was the crash an accident?
It seemed like millennia ago (probably was).
She had grown used to the organic life on this new planet, even adopting an alt mode after one of the first families she had.
They were long gone as were many of their other friends, but she did grow fond of the humans that resided on the island.
Curious little things.
A couple of years ago a couple of them had spotted her sunbathing and became some sort of urban legend.
Being a legend sounded fun and decided to keep the gag running.
Life was relatively peaceful on Griffin Rock.
She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t have favorites.
It was a family of humans.
The Burns
She was particularly fond of the youngest one, Cody.
On the rare occasion that she did leave her lagoon, she often visited the Burns home.
Buddy watching from the wooded area at the family playing basketball. Cody was nearing the basket. Buddy: “Yes, yes, yes, ye—” Kade comes out and snatches the ball from the smaller boys’ hands and dunks the ball himself. The ball also bounces off the boy’s head. Kade: “Who’s the champ? I’M THE CHAM—” BONK! Kade rubbed the back of his head seeing a large branch on the ground. The family was snickering. Kade waving the stick angerly. Kade: “Who threw that?!” Dani: “Maybe that was Karma Kade.” Kade: “I don’t believe in—” BONK! Kade: “WHO KEEPS DOING THAT?!” Buddy with a small pile of branches by her side. Buddy: “That one was for Cody.” She picks up another branch ready to launch it: “And this one is for trying to give Graham that swirly.”
Buddy wasn’t aware of the Rescue bots until she saw them in the backyard during one of her walks.
She recognized the Autobot insignia from a mile away.
Buddy now has an optic out for the bots, wondering why they were doing on Earth.
What were they doing here?
Buddy did see the bots helping the community and even bond with the Burns, which puts her at ease.
Their meeting happened under… less than optimal circumstances.
Cody and Frankie walking on the old bridge leading to the lagoon. The bots were watching vigilantly from the side. Cody wincing at the creaking noise: “This paper better be worth it. The bridge looks like its going to break with a sneeze.” Frankie was trying to get a sample of the water in a mason jar: “Just you wait Cody! Our presentation is going to get us the best grades!” CRRREEAAAAKKKK! Blades: “Okay guys! Off the bridge!” The pair tried walking back but froze hearing the bridge snapping. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! The bridge was starting to break. Now all the bots were on the opposite side of the bridge. Heatwave: “Don’t move! We’ll find a different way to—” CRASH! As if made of tissue paper, the old wood underneath the kids suddenly gave out plunging them into the mossy green water. Rescue bots: “CODY! FRANKIE!” Heatwave was about to dive in after them when the kids’ heads broke the surface… as well as a pair of large metal servos. The large bot raised the humans above the water before getting on land themselves. Buddy: “Cody Burns. Francine Greene. Are you both all right?” The soaked and algae covered kids looked at the new bot with wide eyes. Boulder: “I guess this was the Monster of the Green Lagoon everyone was talking about.” Chase: “Indeed.” Heatwave getting close to the bot. Heatwave: “Put them down!” Blade: “Gently!” The bot laughed. Buddy: “At ease Heatwave.” She gently places the kids in his servos before wiping some of the algae off her Autobot insignia. The bots visibly relax. Heatwave passes the kids to Chase, who has the blankets ready. Cody: “Thanks for saving us…” Buddy: “My designation is Buddy, and it is a pleasure to finally introduce myself to you and Francine.” Frankie: “Frankie, so you’re really the legend? Daddy said you lived in that pond ever since the Founding of Griffin Rock.” Buddy: “Oh no, I’ve been here longer than that.” Boulder: “How long have you been here?” Buddy: “Hold on.” She reenters the water and transforms into her Plesiosaurus alt mode. Buddy: “Since they gave me a home on Earth.” Cody and Frankie’s eyes went wide. Cody: “You were around since the dinosaurs!?” Frankie: “That’s so cool!” Chase: “Pardon the interruption, but if I recall correctly, you said ‘finally introduce’ yourself. How did you know of the Burn’s and Greene family as well as our designation?” Buddy: “Chase, I have been on this island for a long time. I know the best hiding places to observe the humans.” Buddy winks at Cody: “I believe Kade was wondering if those gremlins were throwing those branches after the game.” Cody smiled: “That was you?!”
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comicbookgirl2 · 5 months ago
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My cringy re-write for Dr Sawyer storyline for Chapter 4
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Disclaimer: I’m not saying I dislike chapter 4! I actually like it quite a lot! This is just what I would’ve done for the doctors side of things!
Dr Sawyer is still helping the prototype like he is in the original only this time he is secretly trying to undermine him as well. With the power of the Omni hand/chip He has a small faction of his own- but unlike either Poppy’s (sensible toys) or the prototype (toys that toe the line of insanity) his are completely feral, lacking any remnants of the humans they once were, save for the loyalty that he’d forcefully implanted into them before he’d been betrayed by Playtime co.
But this is where we diverge from cannon. You see a bit after the hour of joy - he catches wind of Poppy’s displeasure of the prototype, and being in the position he is - he can’t help but agree with her. So he makes a proposition with her- and using his database informs her of possible survivors. Perphaps one of them could give her the assistance they need and put an end to the prototypes reign of terror.
Of course she and the rest of safe haven wisely don’t trust him but what option do they have? So little by little poppy plans with the doctor but when she leaves to finally send the letter she’s intercepted by the prototype who surprise, surprise had been informed by Sawyer of the entire scheme. (Yeah he’s double crossing people lol)
The prototype locks Poppy up, and now Sawyer (wanting to buy himself some time via providing more proof of his ‘usefulness’) sends his minion bodies to descend upon the safe haven residents, capturing some and killing others.
It’s a huge blow to safe haven especially when coupled with the loss of Poppy. But for the doctor it’s a flawless victory as he reveals the plan to the prototype who allows the letter to be sent out to the player.
Cut to the time when our player is there, you still run into his minions like yarnaby and pianosaurus (who’s Sawyer’s guard dog in this world as well) and his henchmen (other computer bodies) attack safe haven as well.
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but you also see that sawyer has been doing some experimentation of his own- gathering parts to build something. What you may ask?
Simple- he’s rebuilding a body for himself- one without meat that won’t rot and age.
His interactions with you are somewhat similiar- malevolent and cold (almost coming off more like a computer than human during the initial interactions) until he asks you to betray Poppy and join him. He tries to use his feral toys to make you see how frivolous it is to help them but ultimately you refuse.
So he puts you in the same room as the trapped critter giving you a choice between your life or its own. This time you can hear the critter talking- it even remembers you, and pleads with you to save it. This is one of the critters Sawyer took from the safe haven and broke to prove a point that all the toys are the same regardless of how ‘sane’ they appear to be, all the while the critter asks for help.
And this time. You do.
Both to the critter’s amazement and the doctor’s disgust you save it. The critter initially follows you for a bit before scampering off asthe boss battle proceeds as originally save for a different part where you battle Harley in his new body- this one is far stronger and more dangerous than the others and corners you about to deliver the killing blow when the critter you save from before reappears and saves you almost at the cost of its life. But it works and you defeat Harley.
I know, I know it sounds cringe but hear me out!
Harley has always looked down on things like altruism, and empathy. He yelled at Ludwig for it. So him being defeated by it would be ironic wouldn’t it? Almost bringing things to a full circle while making you once again think about Doey/Poppy’s conundrum! That maybe there is things- people in the factory that aren’t worth throwing away.
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kisessei · 4 months ago
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Ok, so, after a little bit of mulling, I've found that I'd love to see your take on Akashi dealing with an unruly reader with a strong personality who others struggle to challenge in general? Not necessarily someone who's really mean, just someone who enjoys rough housing and playful banter a lot?
If that would work for you, you'd make my day if the reader could be a bit taller than Akashi and have a small crush on him!
Thanks so much for your time and replies- and cheers to a bright future for your blog! >:D
A/N: I present to you the disappointment of the week, but I hope it'd be worth the reading. Anyway, I might have gone overboard with the bullying, but that's one of my love languages and he is my favorite lol. Enjoy and thank you so much. Sorry for any mistakes.
Akashi Seijuro x Reader
You were used to things going your way. Always. If you wanted to do something, you did it. If any rules were inconvenient for you, you bent them, bypassed them, or simply ignored them. You knew what you did was right and acted how you wanted. Not many people had the guts to object to you; they preferred to stay peaceful, not wanting to get on your bad side, and the unfortunate ones who tried usually failed miserably. Well, you didn't have problems until your eyes landed on the student council president. Was this short, annoyingly polite, expressionless person the guy everyone was talking about?
The first encounter with Akashi Seijuro was a disaster the whole school recalls to this day. How were you supposed to know that the guy who was allegedly one of the smartest and most athletic people at school was also incredibly stuck-up and insecure? When he gave you a task to complete that was your responsibility as a student council member, along with strict deadlines and instructions, your initial reaction was to raise an eyebrow at his audacity. Did he think you were his assistant or something? With a raised eyebrow and the most condescending tone, your response was.
"Sorry, I can't quite hear you from here," you lowered yourself to be face-to-face with him, "Can you repeat that?"
You swore if a look could kill, he'd be in jail for homicide. The way his whole face dropped immediately; his sharp red eyes pierced through yours. For a moment, you experienced the excitement of being challenged. As you studied his features, your heart pounded as though it was on the verge of going into cardiac arrest. His demeanor remained mostly the same, even though his once polite smile now appeared forced, and his face lost its color. Most likely, he was trying to keep his composure so he wouldn't tear you to pieces.
To ease some tension, you attempted to explain yourself, "Come on, it was just a joke about your height."
Oh god. He let out a small sigh, then coughed, and before you could insult him again, the other council members, who cared enough to save your life, stepped in to stop the interaction.
That day, you went home and told your friend about the interesting encounter. Your friend quickly caught up the excitement in your voice, and in response to her comment to be careful not to fall in love, you laughed.
But was it pretty funny when you found yourself scrolling through his social media in an attempt to find pictures of him? Why did you do that? Because you solely wanted to understand what others saw in him that you failed to observe. As simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less. As expected, he didn't have many pictures, but there were some outdated pictures of him winning different competitions in several fields and you grew increasingly annoyed at how good he looked in those. After more research, you discovered he was an absolute menace on the basketball court. You found countless videos of him playing against people who were far taller than him and far taller than you. You figured it must have hurt his ego rather badly. Then you found another video that was taken not during the game, but before it started; you saw how he dropped someone to their knees. Effortlessly. The guy was much bigger than he was, and you began to wonder just how lucky you were not to share the same fate as the poor guy in the video.
It was also funny when you, for the first time in a while, tried to do something nice for him and complete the task he had given you. Because it was the only way to get him to look at you after the 'incident.' He had chosen to gracefully ignore you after you dared to insult his precious height. He was pretty surprised when you dropped the papers onto his desk.
"I am going to say this once and never repeat it. I'm not your assistant; I'm not going to worship you. I'm only doing this because I offended you, although if you ask me, it's not my fault some people don't grow."
He smirked and replied, "Sorry, I can't quite hear you from here, but this is your next task."
There was the thrill again, as you looked down at him. Turned out he was not as insecure as you imagined him to be, his sense of humor was as sarcastic as yours.
As more time has passed you’ve learned to be more and more creative with the teasing and jokes. Starting with how he should quit everything and become a hairdresser judging from the haircut that he had given himself. Ending with questioning his age every time he dared to mention one of his hobbies outside of basketball. At first, he was visibly irritated, but soon enough he adapted to your ‘difficult’ personality. He found his way of dealing with your jokes and teasing. He was a pretty serious person, so having someone who did not obey him immediately and did not try to please him, was an interesting change. You were out of his control and he had to put effort into analyzing your behavior in hopes of getting you to do what he wanted. Everyone was surprised you two hadn’t killed each other yet. But with changes from both sides, your cooperation was rather successful.
So successful that you found yourself thinking about him way more than you anticipated. You did start to see in him so much more that was never seen by others. You noticed his small dimple when he smiled, his long eyelashes, his nose bump, his small habits, his kindness and selflessness and instead of feeling hatred towards him, you found him endearing. But the newfound feelings never stopped you from dropping different yogurts on his desk that were advertised to be helpful for growth.
“Are you taunting me this much because you do not have any other method to express your interest in me? Is this an attempt to conceal your emotions?”
He asked you one day, to which he got a very disrespectful, absolutely not refined “fuck you” in response. But he managed to catch the slight pink in your cheeks. He was right. Moreover, he absolutely predicted the defensive reaction from you, however, what he could never predict was what words you would use each time.
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jsprnt · 1 year ago
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Americano PT. 11 | Jude Bellingham x Reader
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What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?
A/N: Hi babes!!!! I’m so happy to be back, I missed writing and interacting with yall 😭 enjoy reading my loves <3
W/C: 3.447
part ten
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Jude was everywhere.
Every-fucking-where.
At home, at work, sometimes even at the clubs or bars I visited..
Every corner I turned, every morning I woke up- he had to be standing or sitting closer to my vicinity than I would have ever wanted.
I rub my eyes roughly, trying to get some food into my system before we had to start packing for the Union Berlin game in Germany. The last to secure our spot in the last 16 of the Champions League.
"Can you pass the water?"
I look up, my grumpy state worsened after hearing the annoying pest's voice.
"No.." I reply, deciding to be petty, pushing the water bottle over anyway.
We don't speak for the rest of breakfast, tensions high after having to endure each other's presence for more than a week.
I had never missed my dad's presence this much before, and my patience was running so thin- if I snapped, I wouldn't even be surprised.
I get off my chair when the doorbell rings, getting up quickly to open the door, knowing it would be my package.
I smile at the delivery driver, signing his tablet quickly, before accepting the huge package.
I slam the door closed with my leg, not being able to see where I'm going while I carry the heavy machine inside.
"Let me help.." I hear Jude perk up. I hear the paddling of his house slippers come closer, a sudden warmth grazing against my fingers.
I almost drop the heavy package in surprise, hand slipping away from the cardboard box. Eyes wide when I realize Jude's holding the package with a stable grip and ease. His face hidden behind the box.
"On the counter?" He questions, already turning and walking towards the kitchen island before I can reply.
I hurry behind him, eyes shifting over his form. Muscles protruding due to the work he's putting into placing the box on the counter.
"Thank you.."
The words feel foreign falling from my lips, only because they are directed at someone I never thought I'd simply thank.
He only replies with a small grunt, motioning to the huge box with his head, his hands going up to roll his T-shirt sleeves up.
I avert my gaze from his arms, to the package, quickly grabbing a butter knife from the kitchen cabinet.
I slide the knife through the transparent tape, directing the knife away from myself.
Standing on my tiptoes, a small noise of irritation leaves my mouth when I pull the coffee machine out of its box.
"Really? A coffee machine?" I hear Jude say, his hand reaching over to pull out the folded invoice included in the package.
"A thousand euros?!" He exclaims, looking like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.
I grumble, snatching the papers out of his hands.
"I didn't pay, don't you worry.."
I wouldn't be the brightest to buy such an expensive machine with my own money, my salary wasn't exactly that much to splurge like this.
"Oh, daddy's money- got it.." He smirks, folding his arms on his chest. The white T-shirt pressing closer to his torso.
"Last night you came home with those ugly ass sneakers worth five thousand euros- don't even try it.."
I scoff, trying to glaze over the fact that I indirectly called my house, his home.
I grab the instructions of the machine, carrying it over to plug in the socket.
"Do you even know how that thing works?"
"Obviously, I'm not someone who buys seven euro lattes every damn day.."
I fill the water reservoir, inspecting the compartments carefully, then turn the machine on.
"Oh, you're so much better than me for making coffee at home.." He mocks, making me turn around, hand resting on the base of the machine absentmindedly as it warms up.
"How difficult is it for you to- fuck.."
I whip my head around, fingers stinging as hot water pours from the coffee machine. I gasp loudly, pulling my wet hand away from it rapidly.
"What did you do?" I hear Jude exclaim, he snatches my wrist, pulling me towards the sink with haste. He pulls my hand towards the faucet, allowing water to soothe my burning hand.
"Are you ever careful?!" He hisses, gripping my wrist tightly. I look up from the streaming water, confused by how frustrated he looks.
"It's fine, it wasn't that hot.." I mumble, feeling his hold tighten. I begin wiggling my hand out of his, giving him a quizzical look.
"Let go, Jude.." I add, finally getting my hand free from his iron grip.
I hear him sigh as he runs a hand down his face. He stares at me for a moment, then I watch him disappear for a moment, into the bathroom.
I take a deep breath, inspecting any changes in the skin of my fingers. Not noticing anything, I pull my hand away from the faucet. The stinging not as bad as earlier. I turn the water off, ready to walk away and grab a kitchen towel to dry my hand.
"Come here." I hear Jude say, I look up immediately, seeing him sitting at the dining table with a first aid kit. One he'd probably found while snooping around in the bathroom.
I walk over without protest, sitting next to him awkwardly. I hold my hand out, watching him treat my hand.
"It's literally not even that bad-"
"Stop talking." He deadpans, making me raise my brows. He coats my burnt skin with soothing cream, making me wince a couple times.
"Thank you.."
Again, I said it again.
I clear my throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up to my cheeks, embarrassed by our proximity.
"We should get to packing. We have to leave in a couple hours.”
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"Congratulations guys! You’ve all worked so hard.." I praise, hugging each individual player when they walk into the changing room. Patting them on the shoulder proudly.
"Rough game, wasn't it?" I ask Joselu, chuckling at his expression. The man had put his entire heart and soul into the game, giving us two goals- making his POTM title well-deserved.
"I'm so exhausted. You sure you want me for the interview?" He asks, pulling his jacket on.
I nod, motioning to Luis.
"We're ready, when you're ready.."
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The interview doesn't take long, and before I knew it, we had all arrived back at our hotel. It had become a small tradition for some of the players and staff to chill in the hotel restaurant after matches, and this night was no exception.
Due to how close our team is, most of us didn't really get dressed up. We had some tea or coffee with small desserts or plates of cut-up fruit.
It was insanely cold in Berlin, obviously due to the season, and the rain wouldn't stop pouring from the sky. The heating was on in the restaurant, accompanied by the cosy fireplace right behind our table.
I check the time in the midst of listening to Federico's story about what he did during his last break. Seems like the rest of the table thinks it's hilarious, because they all burst out in laughter while I'm distracted by my phone.
My eyes water in exhaustion, and I clench my jaw in order to hold a yawn back, not trying to look annoyed or bored.
Waiting for the right timing, I get up, bidding farewell to the team, then I quickly walk into the elevator, pressing the button to my floor.
Arriving in my hotelroom, I jump onto the fluffy, soft bed, sighing in pleasure.
Though, my peace is short-lived when there is a harsh knock on my door.
I grumble, getting up annoyed- stupid enough to open the door without checking or verifying who it is.
It's no one else than Jude, a familiar-looking piece of jewelry in his palm.
"You dropped this earlier." He mutters, holding the gold bracelet out.
I hum, holding my hand out, so he can attach it back to my wrist.
I hear him scoff, smug look on his face as he looks at me, placing the bracelet on my wrist. I don't give him the satisfaction of having my attention- instead I scroll on my phone, refreshing the browser to see if my most recent test results will show up.
"No way!"
I scream, eyes going wide, as I realize I had passed all of my exams, even the one I cried about on the way home.
"What?" Jude asks, confused by the excitement in my eyes and form.
"I passed!" I shove the phone into his face, not even letting him see for a split-second until I pull my phone away and place it on the vanity.
"I passed, Jude!" I squeal again, unconsciously grabbing onto the puzzled guy’s hands. I squeeze his hand, soft skin caressing mine, while I beam with joy. Widest smile on my face as I jump up and down.
"You passed? Even though you were crying at the kitchen table all night long?"
I freeze, stopping myself from jumping again, looking up at him, surprised.
"You saw that?"
"You were making it a little too obvious.."
I scoff, looking down at our intertwined hands, immediately pulling my hand back in embarrassment. Confused about why I let my vulnerability slip so easily.
"Okay, well, you can leave if there is nothing else.." I mutter, unable to ignore the huge, smug smile on his face.
"Goodnight, y/n.." He speaks, stepping back, and I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.
Maybe even a punch…
"Goodnight, or whatever.." I blurt, slamming the door closed in his face.
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"No- don't come in.." y/n slurs, collecting her bag from the dashboard. Vision blurred and disoriented as she fidgets with the car door.
"Are you sure? You're absolutely hammered.." Luis asks, leaning over to open the door for the frazzled girl.
"Yup! All good." She replies, heels killing her feet when she steps out of the car.
"Bye!" She adds, slamming the door a little too hard, earning a yell from her best friend, before she stumbles to the front door of her house.
Nights like these are why she's happy there is a keypad on the door as well, fishing for her keys in this state would be a disaster.
She punches the numbers in quickly, hearing Luis's car drive away when she opens the door and stumbles inside.
It's not as dark inside as she'd imagined, instead, the living room lights are on. The TV blaring with a show she's unfamiliar with.
Throwing her heels off, she makes a beeline towards the couch, slumping against the soft cushions.
"y/n?" She hears a voice say, not bothering to open her eyes, she hums in response.
"You okay?" The Brum accent asks, and instantly a warm hand makes contact with her forehead.
"You're drunk." He says, stating it as a fact, rather than a question.
"I'm not drunk, let me sleep." She replies, shifting on the couch.
"You need to get cleaned up. You reek of alcohol." He urges, hand going to pull her arm up. 
"No!" She replies, gasping when she's lifted up from the couch. Opening her eyes, she clutches onto his shirt, confused by where he's bringing her.
"What are you doing?"
"You wanted to sleep, no?" He mutters cockily, slowly walking up the stairs, strong arms wrapped around her back and thighs.
She makes a small noise in exhaustion, unconsciously placing her head on his broad shoulder. Undeniably, her makeup smudges against the gray fabric of his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much, not even realizing the small grin on his own face as he places her in her bed.
He switches her bedside lamp on, happy he's not missed the bed when placing her on it in the dark.
Stepping back, he pulls the covers over her body, looking around for some specific thing. He steps closer to her vanity, looking for something similar to what his mother used to remove her own makeup.
Jude makes a small noise of satisfaction when he sees a pack of wipes, the English text on it enough to confirm it's the item he's looking for.
He turns around with the pack of wipes, stepping closer to the sleeping girl. He carefully sits on the empty side of her bed, careful not to touch her unnecessarily, grabbing a wipe, and clumsily rubbing the white towel along her face.
His face inches closer to her sleeping one, trying to remove the makeup enough so it won't stain her white pillows. He watches her eyelids and face twitch, causing a soft, fuzzy feeling to creep up into his chest.
His breath hitches when he realizes their proximity. He pulls the makeup-stained wipe away from her face, grabbing a clean one and caressing it on her soft cheek.
When her face is wiped clean, he pulls back, chest thumping with an unwelcome feeling. A soft sigh leaves his plump lips, he runs a hand down his face. Grabbing the edge of her warm blanket, placing it on her, causing her to shift a little in her slumber.
A familiar feeling of déjà vu passes through his senses, a soft grunt coming from the sleeping girl next to him. 
He pauses his movements, eyes roaming on her sleeping face, before he gets up from her bed. Leaving the lamp on as he hurriedly walks out of her room. Accidentally taking the pack of wipes with him, and forgetting to close her door in his sudden hurry.
December in Madrid was something Jude was slowly getting used to. Although nothing could compare to the weather in Birmingham and Dortmund he'd gotten familiar with over the years. 
It’s only hours later, past three in the morning, when he's awoken by pain in his shoulder. It had been bothering him for weeks now, but he was insisting on playing.
Even if it meant that he had to wear a personalized shoulder brace and had to take injections to combat the pain during important games. 
His move to Madrid was no doubt a big one, with the entirety of the football world looking at how the 100 million-euro transfer would start his first season at Real Madrid.
To Jude, even a dislocated shoulder could not hold him back from delivering his best performance. 
Sitting up from the bed he had been calling his own, for the past few weeks, he looks around the dark room. Rain trickling out of the dark clouds and harshly hitting the huge windows of his room. 
Jude gets up from the comfort of the warm bed, pulling his shirt off to check his shoulder. He had been wearing his brace regularly, but sometimes it would be so uncomfortable that he had to take it off in the middle of the night. 
He unbuckles the belt that’s secure on his chest, expensive material soft to the touch as he slides the black brace off carefully. A soft grunt of pain leaves his mouth as he throws it to the other side of the bed. 
Pulling his slippers on and opening the door of his room, he can only see light emitting from y/n's room. Her bedroom door open since he had forgotten to close it earlier. 
He averts his gaze from her room, ready to go downstairs to grab a cup of water. Though, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears noise coming from her room. A soft whimper, accompanied by the rustle of her movements. 
Not another thought runs through his head before he makes a beeline into her room. He walks past her door, her body visibly restless underneath her blanket. He stands next to her bed awkwardly, moving his face closer to inspect the scrunch of her brows, displaying the distress on her face. 
"y/n.." He begins, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He lifts his hand, moving his hand to her cheek, touching it tenderly with his thumb. Trying to rouse her from her sleep. Though, seems like it doesn’t work, especially since her face twitches again. 
"Hey! Wake up.." Jude whisper-shouts, not even realizing or asking himself what he is trying to accomplish. 
"Fucking hell. What am I even trying to do." He curses to himself, moving his hand to her shoulder again. She’s still dressed in her clubbing outfit from last night, causing his hand to make immediate contact with her bare shoulder. 
"Mom.." A sudden whisper leaves her lips, full of raw emotion and sadness. A ragged breath follows, the tremble of her lip visible in the dim light next to them. 
Jude immediately halts all of his movements, his breath hitches in surprise. He had never heard her or others around her utter a single word about her mother. It was always about her father or one of her aunts. 
Jude was never curious about it for some reason. He had many friends whose parents weren’t together or single. Her only having her father in her life, or to the extent he’d seen- wasn’t all that surprising until this very moment. 
"Don't go..." Another whimper, followed by an audible, strangled sob, tears glistening in the corners of her closed eyes. 
He had never felt this confused and helpless before. Feeling his chest tighten, he leans over her body, moving to sit next to her on the bed. With one last shake of her shoulders, he tries to wake her up from her horror-filled dream. 
"y/n!" He shouts this time, voice echoing along with the rainfall outside, his brows furrowed in worry. 
y/n's eyes snap open in shock, mouth falling open, only for her lips to tremble.
Tears fill her eyes, the only thing visible to her: Jude's concerned face. 
Picking up on her sudden shock, his arms snake around her back, allowing her to sit up and breathe. 
"You’re fine, it was just a dream.." He says softly, eyes focused on her face. Instead of his words soothing her, tears start falling down her cheeks, breath unsteady as sobs fall from her lips. 
His eyes widen, her state blind-siding him.
Yes, he had seen her cry once or twice before, but this- this was different. The girl's face was absolutely clad in pain and sadness.
It made his heart and soul shatter, blood running cold at the sight. 
"Hey.. Look at me.." He mutters, hand reaching up to her chin. His fingers graze her skin, gently but firmly lifting her head to make eye contact with her wet eyes. 
She faces him, cheeks and lashes wet from tears. Eyes bloodshot, as her lips tremble uncontrollably. Jude's eyes soften, brows scrunching in more concern. 
"y/n-" He tries to call out to her to further ground her, though a soft gasp leaves his mouth when she practically launches herself into his hold.
Her trembling body pressed against his naked chest, shaky arms wrapped around his back. 
Her forehead collides with his collarbone, to his luck, not against his injured shoulder. His arms fall against his side in bewilderment, mouth falling open for a moment. Only her soft sobs audible next to the raging storm outside. 
Her nails claw against his bare back, not realizing the slight pain she’s causing him through her sheer desperation of wanting to feel safe and grounded. 
Jude can feel his skin burning up. Of course, he had his fair share of subtle or intimate touches with other women. A hug, a kiss- whatever it had been- his body had never gone this rigid before.
He's pulled out of his thoughts by her nonstop sobbing. Getting his courage and shit together, and pushing his shock away- he lifts his hand from his side, sliding his arms around her back, pulling her body flush against his. 
"You're okay. You’re safe..." He mumbles, fingers rubbing her nape soothingly, other hand pressing her face closer against his chest. 
"I'm here, y/n.." The unfamiliar sentence leaves his mouth with a shaky breath, her sobbing continuing all through his sweet words. 
He's absolutely certain, that if she were fully conscious and not crying her heart out- she'd be able to hear the stupid thundering of his heart, maybe it would be even louder than the storm outside. 
He also knows that this feeling has been brewing in his chest like a damn F5 tornado for the past few weeks.
Causing incredible damage to his heartstrings and confusion to his feelings and thoughts...
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chirpingchorus · 5 months ago
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I’ve been thinking about similarities between Shiki and Joshua. During the events of TWEWY, both of them are deceiving others with their appearances and personalities, and they both know it. Joshua has more control over this than Shiki, but regardless…
Neither of them want to be themselves. I’d say they both loathe themselves, really. Shiki envies everything Eri is and does, and is glad at first to be someone else. Joshua’s disillusionment and dissatisfaction with the city is closely tied to his understanding of himself; he is its Composer, as well as someone quite similar to Neku, the proxy he’s chosen to represent the city.
After their time with Neku, they value themselves more as individuals. To Neku, it doesn’t matter what Shiki looks like or what Joshua’s done. (Well, that last one matters a little, but not as much as it probably should.) He cares for them and trusts them all the same.
And it’s all so beautifully connected, because it’s Joshua’s fault that Neku’s in the game and met Shiki, and Shiki’s why Neku learned to open up, rendering him able to connect with Joshua. Neku passed from one pretender to another, and they never interacted, but they did, in a way.
What really gets me about this comparison, though, is how they differ in the ending. Shiki’s at Hachiko with Neku and everyone else. Neku invites Joshua, but he doesn’t come. From Shiki’s perspective, Neku hasn’t seen the worst of her until he’s seen the real her. Joshua? I can’t imagine there’s anything worse Neku could learn about Joshua… But he doesn’t show. Maybe he’s not able to, and maybe he doesn’t want to. If the wiki is to be believed, Mr. H’s “Some people can’t take no for an answer” in the secret ending was originally about Joshua needing to be honest with how he feels. I like to think about what that localization could have meant, though; try and connect the two ideas.
Some people can’t believe it when someone says, “No, I don’t want you dead, not even after everything you’ve done. No, I couldn’t kill you to save the city, even if you killed me and you’d do it again. No, I can’t forgive you for what you put me through, but I do trust you. And despite it all, I’d like to see you again.” Whether he looks “down” (ENG) or “lonely” (JP), something about the Hachiko reunion’s made Joshua sad. But he won’t do anything about it. He can’t be honest with himself and do what (I imagine) he wants to do. Shiki’s able to move past her self-hatred if it means doing what she wants to and reaching out to Neku. Joshua isn’t. He’s much better now in terms of self-worth than he was three weeks before, but there are some things you have to settle on your own. Some people can’t take no for an answer, even when that’s the answer they want to hear more than anything else.
IN CONCLUSION: I think Shiki and Joshua should be bestest friends and go to the mall and make fun of Neku’s clothing forever and ever and give each other advice of varying quality. PLEASE.
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