#and wouldn't be likely to do something of that nature himself

[godineedtoread]

y'all I had THOUGHTS

So- we know Simon has like a really deep voice right ? and also the fact that he never shows his face. so-

can you imagine him being one of those nsfw audio creators ?? do you see what I see ?

His masked face as the profile picture, the sexy deep british accent. That gruff voice of his saying such explicitly suggestive things..

It'll probably take like- a month or something before his fame spreads like wildfire, thanks to his military soldier x nurse audio, driving people insane. comments section filled with varying degrees of horny comments on his deep gruff voice.

He quickly became the internet hot topic, paired with the fact that there's hardly any information about him given out except his alias- Ghost, it was only natural that people became more and more attracted towards him. (because when have we liked men showing their faces 😭)

His popularity only rose higher, and so he takes the financially beneficial step, he makes a patreon. Having these special steamy phone conversation lucky draw for his highest paying members each month. "You're so cute you know ?" "You're my pretty girl" "Fuck, you're mine you hear me ?"

It was work for Simon, nothing exciting most of the time. He gave them a good time and he got his money in return. And it PAID for sure, 100+ members for his highest tier alone.

But this time..it so happens to be you. He didn't much of it as usual, well, at least until he heard your pretty voice greet him through the phone. His heart skipped a little, hearing your sweet earnest voice talking into his ear. How, he could hear you blush. You were just too cute, too good.

So he offers to guide you through your orgasm, a special feature added only for this month (totally not because his own dick was getting hard thanks to you) and you of course eagerly agree, who wouldn't ? "Are you close baby ?"

He whispers in his signature sultry voice, holding the phone with one hand while the other languidly strokes his growing bulge. "y-yes, so close", you whimper into the phone rubbing yourself with increasing pace. "Yeah ? You're gonna be a good girl and cum for me ?" His says, breath hitching as he feels himself getting close. He hears you moan his alias, wishing he could just tell you- call me simon luvie. But he can't risk exposing himself. So he just settles for you sweet whispers "Ghost I'm cumming !"

As you finally get over from your high, you thank him profusely for his 'surprise' service, unaware of the fact that you just gave him a surprise service too. He regains his composure getting back to you with a, "I'm glad you enjoyed it", because he sure did. "So would you be interested in a special video call service lucky draw next time ?"

safe to say, the draw was rigged. ;)

[bratdotcom]

Confessions of an Insomniac

curly x coworker!reader ⋆ an au where you're his coworker, and he's head over heels for you

⋆ tags : slowburn, coworkers to lovers, jimmy is mentioned like 2 times but never shown

word count : 1k+ ( and proud!! ^^ ) ⋆

⋆ taglist : @likeadeadbattery

Curly never thought he'd find himself in such a compromising position. He took himself for being a professional man. Took pride in it, too.

He was the captain, after all - your captain. Worked with you long enough to know you on a first name basis. He never truly shook off the flush that appeared on his chest whenever he called you by your actual name. He preferred calling you by your title, Doctor (L/N). It was professional. It was propriety. It was what made sense to him.

In all his years of running the Tuplar, he's never felt this way about a coworker before. It made him feel sick with sweaty palms, unable to focus.

That would explain his frequent visits to your office. But you didn't need to know that.

Curly's senses were more hyper-aware than he usually was, more than he needed for his position on the ship as you check his heartbeat with your stethoscope. "Oh, change in pulse." You comment, chuckling to yourself as you scribble that information down.

You were close. So, so close.

Curly knew the procedure. Attentiveness was expected. The way your eyes softened on him wasn't. Checkups were the norm. The way your touch seemed to linger on him like static through the corridors wasn't. He fixes the neckline of his shirt after you pull away to keep himself distracted.

"Have you been working out recently?" You hold your clipboard in your hands. Curly found it hard to tell if you were asking that question casually or professionally. You were using your doctor's voice, but you were asking him something he'd hear you ask over lunch.

Curly straightens his posture at the question to appear more put together in front of you.

"Yes, I have." He replies, though the answer was obvious. His muscles almost jumped out of the fabric of his jumpsuit. He wonders if you asked that question just to hear him say it himself.

"Usually, I do warm-ups in the morning before starting my duties..." You listen to him and nod along as he rambles on about his workout routine, not minding the lax tone of his voice.

Knowing that Curly trusted you enough not to use his captain's voice on you had to be some form of an honor, right?

Both of your words held weight. Both of you had people who looked up to you. You were both similar, in a way. Curly had you and the crew. You had Anya and him.

Curly stops his little tangent when you pick up a different colored pen and scribble more doctor's jargon onto his sheet. "That's good." You respond, eyes focused on your clipboard.

"Good?" he echoes, his face, all the way up to his ears, goes red. Pink against his skin, but red nonetheless.

He was used to people praising his routine, but it felt different coming from you.

"Yes, despite our advancements in technology, we still experience muscle atrophy." You explain, using your doctor's voice. "What you're doing helps prevent the risk." You glance towards him. "You're aware of what that is, yes?”

Curly nods, silently hoping you wouldn't comment on his appearance. "Yes, I've read about it before." He says with a bit more confidence, his hands going from his knees to his thighs.

You chuckle as you speak. "Once we get back to Earth, you won't topple over like a Jenga tower.”

Still red in the face, Curly chuckles along.

"Maybe you should get Jimmy on your little workout regiment, too."

Curly knows he shouldn't laugh at the jab you just made at his second in command, but a little good-natured ribbing never hurt anybody, right? You were joking, weren't you?

“Don't tell him I said that."

You whisper, leaning in to add emphasis to your words.

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle of approval. He eases his tone, feeling less stuffy the longer you went on with your playful jabs at his best friend. "Don't worry, Doctor (L/N)." He reassures you, his hand on the table. "I promise you, I won't tell him a thing. It'll be our little secret." Curly adds an almost teasing tone in his voice.

He relishes in the reaction you gave him. The subtle flush of your cheeks told him everything he needed to know.

You didn't mind breaking the lines between camaraderie and fraternity.

Maybe you did, maybe you didn't.

Maybe Curly was just too deep in his head, too caught up in the version he had of you.

Blinded by your smile and the way you laughed at his jokes. Curly wonders if you feel the same way as him. Saw the same version of him that he had of you.

Curly watches as you work in pure concentration, your eyes glued to your clipboard, pen cap pressed to your chin. He takes in the sight, secretly glad that you were distracted. He had the chance to do nothing but stare, admire you as you worked.

You break your concentration to speak.

"You don't have to keep calling me doctor, you know. You have the bragging rights to call me Doc."

Curly smiles ruefully at your words. He should tamp his feelings down now, shouldn't he? He had to prove that he still had control. That he was the one in charge.

Mostly for himself, not you.

"I suppose you're right." He shrugs, trying to keep his tone neutral as he gazes away to focus his eyes elsewhere. "Bragging rights, huh?" Curly says softly to himself, still smiling.

Luckily, you don't hear the way he fondly repeats your words.

"Are we still up for our little date, captain?" The way you lean in to speak makes him want to look anywhere but you. The phrasing you used made him feel all warm in the chest again.

You were going to be his downfall. All the hard work, the excruciating hours he put into getting where he was now, was just one word away from going completely down the drain.

All because of you.

"You really shouldn't call it that." Curly rubs the back of his neck like a nervous teen. Awkward and clammy. At least now he wasn't as pink as a baby mouse. "Wouldn't want the rest of the crew getting the wrong idea, would we?"

You lean back and let out a laugh, sounding as though you didn't have a care in the world.

"Yeah, you're right. Doing nails isn't much of a date anyway."

Your words sting Curly, just a bit. There was a wordless form of intimacy behind doing someone's nails of someone you loved. Carefully holding the other person's hand in yours. Trusting them enough for your hold to go limp in theirs.

You even get the right to tell others that you had the privilege of having someone else do your nails.

Bragging rights, as you playfully put it. Perhaps he was looking into it too much.

Curly mirrors your movements, his eyes temporarily flick to your hands as you speak. You had nice hands, compared to his. He'd never voice his opinions to your face, of course. Never. It'd be unprofessional of him. More than he was already. He felt guilty, thinking of you in such a way.

The thought of being alone with you strangled all competence out of him. The smell of your shampoo clouded his senses. You, you, you.

All he could think of was you.

"Trust me, Jimmy's not gonna crucify you for wearing some clear coat, Curly."

Your breath mingles with his as you do his nails, his knees were starting to hurt from sitting on the carpeted floor of the conversation pit, but he wasn't complaining at all. He appreciated the level of care you put in as you held his hand. It was endearing.

Curly looks down at his hand, his head tilted at an angle.

"What is a clear coat?" he asks, genuinely wondering what exactly you were applying to his nails. He probably should've asked that before allowing you to do this.

The small grin that appears on your lips when you hear his question makes him completely forget that what you were doing together wasn't a date. That what you were doing was just a favor between coworkers.

With a flick of your hand, you reply. "A clear coat keeps it all shiny and neat. Feels nice, huh?" Curly nods to your question, careful not to move too much as you hold his hand in yours.

"Keeps your nails from chipping, too. Wouldn't we want that, would we, Captain?"

The way your eyes flit up to him almost makes him turn red. He could've sworn he heard a teasing tone in your voice.

"No, not at all, Doc." He replies, looking down at his nails. The changes were subtle. But you were right. It felt nice.

He pretends to admire the way his nails look in the artificial moonlight, when in reality he's looking at you.

"Better waste of time than staring at those pixels, right?"

Curly remembers your words from earlier. Your promise to do his nails as the rest of the crew slept. Two insomniacs against the unrelenting pull of space. Just you and him.

He wonders if your promise was just some flimsy excuse to get him alone with you.

"Right." He repeats, voice softening.

"Captain." You scoot closer to him, your knees touching his.

Your arm brushes against his, just like it did whenever you crossed paths in the halls.

"When this is all over... I wouldn't mind seeing you outside of work."

It takes him a moment to catch on to your words. His own words catch in his throat. The walls of the ship felt more suffocating than they usually did.

"I'd like that." He responds.

Carefully, as if you'd break in his hands, he slots his fingers in between yours. He tests your reaction by squeezing your hand. When you squeeze back, he smiles.

He leans in but doesn't kiss you.

"I'd like that a lot." He adds, his other hand going to your shoulder.

Again, Curly looks at you. Deep in thought as he takes in the way you looked at him. Lost in your eyes, he almost doesn't hear what you're saying.

You looked happy, as if a weight was finally lifted off of your chest.

His eyes widen when you lean in to kiss him.

He tenses up, not expecting you to do the first move. As quickly as you pull in, you pull away. Short and sweet. That's all he needed to know you felt the same.

You were red in the face, just like him.

His thumb brushes over your skin. Curly always tried to see the bigger picture.

He never thought you'd be a part of it, too.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Unsurvivable ride - Fernando Alonso x reader

Summary: Old man loves his car, and you, once again, written on a train, author loves old men and old men know

Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of person who loved to boast. Sure, when he was young, he was cocky. Impressing female reporters with his card tricks or the fact that he could crack a walnut with his neck. A line that didn't make it to air was him saying, "So you don't need to worry about sitting on my face, I'm strong, I can take it, see?" right after. And even with "Fernando is faster than you," even with the "villain" comments in drive to survive, he wasn't prideful. He was just honest. You wouldn't see him flaunting his wealth or doing noveau rich stuff. Yacht aside, luxury cars aside. Yes, he had those things but didn't ever mention them or use them as props, the way some of the other drivers did. Fernando Alonso was the king of quiet luxury, old money. But, with every job came its little quirks. And in Nando's was the new car. 

Don't get him wrong he loved the Valkyrie. It was truly a beautiful car. Fast, too. Perfect for him. But having to prep your shared Monaco living room for it was not fun. Fernando loved having pictures of you two around, the framed memories were a must-have. Whether it was in the tax paradise where most F1 drivers lived, in Spain, to even his garage. Everyone was seeing that Fernando was with you. It was almost funny to see new people guess the nature of your relationship. With you being closer in age to your 20s than your thirties, people assumed you were his relative, a cousin, or perhaps a sister. Some even thought you were his daughter. Then he pulled out the vacation pictures of himself, taking down your swimsuit with his teeth. That cleared up the fact that you were his girlfriend. All the pictures were gone for the day. Any magazines or books that didn't seem like they fit him. Your clothes that hung on the hooks, everything. Truth be told, now the living room looked white and sterile and, thus, perfect for a video. Fernando had to film, and it was fun. Driving around the streets of Monaco in this custom beast didn't suit him still. But he had to do it again and again. That was in his contract. 

Despite him having to take it around all the time, you didn't get a chance to ride in it for a long time. Truth is, you avoided it. The two seater was way too fancy for your taste. You couldn't shake the sinking feeling that you'd scratch it just by opening the door or something. So you didn't even come near it. Took public transport or walked. Used the excuse of "I know it's Monaco, and people don't film you as much, but in this, they definitely will.". And that was literally the point. The Aston Martin marketing person called it a mere exposure theory. Show something to people enough, and they will remember it. Then something about the car creating organic word of mouth and this driving sales. Nando thought it was a little ridiculous that all he drove week in and week out was an Aston Martin. Especially after Brazil. 

But duty called. And the word of Lawrence Stroll and co was law. So Nando took the Valkyrie out, again and again. Finally, he managed to get you in it. Seeing you in the Valkyrie did something to him. Maybe it was the triple header. Maybe it was you in a mini dress pressed up against him. With the seat belt between your perfect tits, he was a goner. Lord knows how he made it to the restaurant without slipping his fingers inside of you while driving with his left hand. It was a miracle. The fancy restaurant he had picked out had no vallet. Only an exclusive underground parking. Fernando got out of the car with a plan in mind. By the end of the night, your first ride in the Valkyrie was going to be a memorable one. 

Everything went smoothly. Then it was time to go. Fernando put on an Oscar worthy performance of looking for his car keys. A pat down of his jeans, a scrunched up face, a low swear in Spanish. All the while, they sat snugley in his jacket pocket. 

"I must have left them on the dash. The car, it has this app that lets you do certain functions remotely. Can you look after I've rolled down the window, doll." He asks. Sometimes, he loves how serviceable you are. Others would call you ditzy, but he knew that all you ever wanted was to be a good girl for him. So you didn't question why the Valkyrie's windows could be opened remotely. You assumed it had something to do with its confusing butterfly doors. Fernando rolls it down, and you twist your body inside. At his plea to "really look, make sure the keys aren't somewhere on the floor," your entire upper body is pretzled in. Leaving your ass to stick out. And that's when Nando strikes like a viper. The window moves up. Not enough to hurt you, but it is definitely enough to make you stuck. He unlocks and locks the car again to taunt you, to show you that he wants you there. 

"Can I touch you, pretty girl?" He asks, but you can already feel his fingers near your bare legs. He's flipped up your skirt, completely exposing your underwear. As soon as you say yes, he traces the seams of it, enjoying how you get excited over that. 

"Look at you, already getting wet for me. We'll have to be quick here, princess. Is that okay with you?" He asks, and he's happy when you practically beg for that. Truth is, he can't stand to tease you right now. He needs you like a fish needs water. Fernando wasted no time in taking off your panties and putting two fingers inside of you. He curls them and tries to get them to hit that spot inside of you. When he uses his other hand to rub your clit, you're a goner, clenching against him. But he doesn't stop.

"You got yours, doll. It's time for me to get mine." He says. Fernando's belt clangs on the concrete, his pants pooled against his ankles. He takes his fingers out of you, and you can hear a loud suck as you guess he puts them in his mouth. The same fingers wrap around his shaft as he guides himself inside of you. The position is driving you both crazy. You can feel his deeper than usual, and you can't squirm away from him. You're at his mercy, and he has none. He thrusts inside of you, almost bottoming out and then slides almost all the way out. He squeezes your ass and hips. Watches himself wreck your pretty weeping pussy with his cock. Feels you get tighter against him. Sees you cum and then clench against nothing as he pulls out. Wonders whether his cum might somehow damage the paint as he watches it on your thighs. 

"There goes one incentive to keep driving this thing. Now I'll think of this every time I get in it." Fernando says, to see you squirm and tell him to shut up. Yep, he was gonna make you warm up to the Valkyrie, one way or another. 

[pranabefall]

✸ — MISC NOTICE. ; minors dni. sentinel ! jing yuan x guide reader. a silly blurb for the most part. follows guideverse au concepts and such. yandere warning, i plan on expanding this into a proper oneshot soon enough XD. not edited!!!

it's your boss who issues the final warning after the third turn down. he'd given you a stern talking to, another chance and that repeated statement wedged into your head with corporate manuals and the like.

he's important, he tells you furiously. you can't just turn away from him when he comes to you...and he asks for you specifically. specifically, because he plays games you can't quite understand and inlays his conversations with double meanings and jokes you catch him chuckling over.

you don't know if you want to laugh or cry at the ridicule, at his persistence. but you kept quiet and collected your dues, silently letting yourself into his home after he summons you again.

your coworkers tell you you're thinking too much. the general is a kind man. the twisted do not hand feed finches and let cats nap on their knee. and yet you doubt. you doubt, doubt, keep doubting like it's the air you breathe, like every flex to his arm and every shift of his body is a trap.

( the general is a kind man. yet he does not feel any safer.

most sentinels, to you do not. )

one of his retainers points you to the gardens, and you find him seated beneath tree-cover, mulling over an unfinished chess game and the lack of an opponent. you don't think you could slip away at this point. you don't think you should.

his shoulders are hunched and his cheeks sallow, but he still holds that cheeky light in his eyes. annoyingly handsome. cloyingly so, in ways that make your stomach turn. and those eyes meet yours, and that smile filters through. you freeze and tell yourself not to run.

( that's not hunger you see there, you tell yourself. it's not. )

"good morning." he greets, patting the space beside him. "it's been quite some time, yes?"

you swallow. "yes." you nod, taking your seat just a little ways off. jing yuan looks amused. "it's best we get this session over with. i hope you don't mind general."

his eyelids droop and a languid tremor starts up in the depth of his chest. "mh. you're in that much of a hurry?" he half teases, holding his hand out. "i'd hoped you'd stay for some tea. it's a new brew master du has taken a liking to."

"i'm afraid i cannot linger." you repeat, a little firmer this time. you reach into that plunging darkness, tugging away the corruption that clings to his being with the finesse of threading a needle. guiding was almost second nature at this point, a mindless thing, a near instinct. and jing yuan had much to undo and unravel and pull out.

jing yuan exhales. it's long, deep, relieved almost, scraping to the borders of euphoric. you keep tugging. he lets himself pull into you, his warmth grazing against the apple of your cheek.

"it's taking longer than it should." you choke.

"is it?"

you try not to let the fear in. "sorry." you whisper. it's always like this. jing yuan's unsaid insistence, the desperation buzzing beneath his skin, the almost touches.

it's taking longer to unwind the wringing tendril, nick away at the emptiness and fill it up with something.

he has your left hand press up into his cheek. you want to snatch it back. the corruption comes undone easier though, so you let it stay there, let him touch you a little more than he should. jing yuan seems satisfied with this.

"much better, right?" he chuckles. the pads of his fingers press just above your pulse, taking in the quick paced beat. jing yuan stares long and hard at you.

you still want to run.

"you could say that..." you shove that urge back, lock it away, tell it it's not welcome. better this than feeling those hands elsewhere. the crawling terror may persist, but jing yuan wouldn't hurt you that way.

( "stay a little longer." he mumbles into your palm. "you seem so tired. did you have another long day?" )

...you hope he won't.

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part thirteen

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 2.9k (2996)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part fourteen!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

The black jacket, elegantly finished with silver stitching, seems to be so tight right now. It's a paradox for you to be anxious about being the center of attention, given that for a good part of your life you've always been on a catwalk; but tonight, with an audience in front of you for the first time since the very first scandal, and the evidence that Gabriel has lied, it's a whole different situation. Since you came home last night, nervous but happy, you haven't had a second to rest: obviously Micheal had heard the audios he found on his chat, and had no qualms about picking you up from work earlier than necessary. It was evidence so important and incriminating that not even he knew if it was true or not, but seeing you so happy after so long was the confirmation that finally the nightmare was in its final stages. And that evidence had to be heard

And so now you're in the dressing room of the most watched and important television network in the country, ready to go on air. You had called some local TV stations saying that, if they wanted, you would make your first TV appearance after the scandal with them. Many had accepted, but you had chosen the biggest and most important one. And so now, agitated, you were about to tell the world the real truth after weeks of suffering, the real Gabriel

"You don't usually wear lipstick. Did they force you?" Kaiser says chuckling, leaning against the wall. You nod rolling your eyes, while you check yourself in the mirror once more "Sort of. They told me if I didn't let them put it on, they'd give me 25 seconds less time" you say, and his laughter gets louder "I don't understand the logic of this, but as long as I can see you with lipstick on, I like it" he says, running a hand through his hair. You raise an eyebrow at his comment, surprised "Does it look good on me or bad?" you ask. With a gentle push he pushes himself away from the wall, walking towards you “You could put dirty rugs on you and I’d be as in love as I am in my letters. Be thankful they put too much makeup on you or I would have kissed you” he says, taking your face in his hands, and you rest your cheek against his palm, a small smile appearing on your red lips "Too bad. Although I don't think they mind that much if I ask the makeup artists to put my lipstick back on" you ask in a suggestive tone, and he nods "You could. But what would you say as an excuse? That you drank too much water and everything was ruined?" he asks, closing the distance between you a bit "I could say that, yes"

It doesn't take much to have his lips on yours, a gesture you've become accustomed to since you returned to Germany. His hands leave your face to rest on your hips, holding you tight without letting you the chance to escape, something you wouldn't do even in your worst dreams. Squeezed between the wall and his body, you end up clinging to him while tightening your arms around his neck, not giving him the chance to move away. Aggressive as he is on the field, his natural habitat, Kaiser seems to go heavy as the kiss becomes more and more needy, his hands move to your lower back. You know what he has in mind when he does that, you know him all too well by now, but doing that here is definitely not an option, at least not before the interview. You regretfully break the kiss, noticing that the lipstick is now all over his lips; you giggle slightly at him in this state, looking down as he looks confused "You don't want to?" he asks, even though he knows the answer would always be yes, but right now it's no "Not now, at least. You've got lipstick on your lips" you say, still giggling "Imagine if Ness or your teammates saw you in this state" you say, and he lets out a sigh "Ness would be simping like usual and the others would be afraid to comment" he says, then runs his thumb over your bottom lip "But if this is the reward for getting dirty, I don't care. We could try on all the lipsticks you have at home, once we're done here" he says, and you nod, looking into his eyes "If you mean it that much, Mihya" you say amused

He holds you tight, but at the same time you can't be completely calm. You're about to do something extremely important for yourself, but who gives you the certainty that everything will go as you think? How do you know if Gabriel hasn't already predicted this step of yours too?

You're afraid. You can't not admit it, it would be lying to yourself. You're afraid of simply seeing all the effort go to pieces, without having a third chance to put everything back together, because if this time it goes badly, the pain will probably be too much. But you have to do it now, in less than twenty minutes you will be on TV in front of the whole Germany. So, other than taking courage on your own and finding comfort in your boyfriend, you can't do anything else. Just wait and see

"Anxious?" Kaiser asks, running his hand up and down your back. You nod, leaning against his chest. "It would be stupid of me to lie. I am and I just want to go home right now" you admit, and he seems to understand. "I know. It's a big thing, but you have to do it. You finally have the chance to send that monster packing for good, and you have to make the most of it. You finally have to show the world that you were never a traitor in the first place" he says, and you can't help but nod again "It's just that it's so important that I'm scared. No one gives me the security that people will believe me, once I tell the truth about the past. I could go back to how I was before I went back to Germany" you admit, then feel his hand stop halfway up your back "It won't all go wrong, you literally have everything to win this time. And then, even if it goes wrong, who cares? This time you don't just have a hotel room to comfort you, you have me in full. And if comforting you means I have to take you with me on my next soccer tour, I'll be more than happy. And if they find out we're in love, I'll be even happier" he says, and you look up at him "If it goes bad, I'm here. If it goes well, I'm here anyway. Stop worrying about sinking if you finally have someone who wants to grab you"

If you could cry now, you would, since it happened the last time you no longer feel ashamed if you do it in front of your boyfriend, but now there is no time to do it. Smile because it is the only thing you can do, because in fact you do not know how to express in words how much you really love this boy. It's not a given to be there for someone, especially when they're at their lowest point of life. But Kaiser wouldn't leave if you were the one at the lowest, and you wouldn't leave if he ever needed help, even if you've had the opportunity to comfort him in the past about his family situation. If this isn't love, the one what you dreamed of as a child, you don't know what it is. And if you had to do it all over again to get the same result, suffer and fall, you would do it without even thinking twice

"Will you watch me?" you say, while he has one hand on the doorknob. He has to go, you'll be on the air soon, it's finally time, your time

"You'll find me in the front row, Schatz"

Sitting on the sofa in the study, the anxiety you had before has completely gone away, leaving you only with a sense of boldness that you have rarely had in your life. You've been on the air for about minutes now, and beyond the usual questions, you still haven't talked about the reason why you're here tonight. The interviewer is polite, nice, quite friendly, and Kaiser is in the studio audience

"So... it's time to get a little more personal. We all know it wasn't an easy time and you even had a break from work before you entered the TraumLaufsteg. What happened, Y/n? Tell us" the woman says, as the camera pans solely towards you. You take a deep breath as you smile nervously, but it's time, finally. It's your time

"You know Ingrid, I think the whole world has a different idea of what happened to me. I don't blame them, I have to be honest, I would also have an opinion on such an interesting situation that was handled so badly by the media" you say, convinced "But it was a really bad time for me, I think everyone knows that. I changed house, country, fashion agency and above all I no longer have the same person by my side who remained by my side for three consecutive years. But now I only have to say that I should have made these changes a long time ago, a very long time ago" you say smiling, and the interviewer is surprised "What do you mean? Can you tell us better? You know, the whole world now sees you as the woman who betrayed the genius of Italian fashion" she says, and you nod "For many, if not for all, I am as you described me. But there is a small difference that only Gabriel and I know the truth, that now we are no longer a couple, as he continues to make people believe. I left Gabriel after three years because enduring yet another of dozens of betrayals had led me to a situation of continuous discomfort that forced me, fortunately I would say, to leave him" you say, and the studio audience and the interviewer burst into a surprised murmur. Kaiser smiles satisfied, while everyone doesn't seem to believe the words they just heard from you, the one who actually betrayed him in the man's story

"Cheating? Y/n, can you tell us more?" the woman says, and you nod happily "Of course. As you know, this is my first TV appearance, at least wanted and not forced, that I'm doing after the scandal. I've kept many things inside, things that have destroyed me to the point of exhaustion, things that I wouldn't wish even at my worst enemy. But now I want to tell everything and show the truth, because unlike Gabriel, I don't just talk, I also demonstrate. Please pay attention" you say, and your phone comes out of your pocket

"Gabriel started cheating on me two years ago. The first was the beginning of a long list of women who work in the same field as me, others who aren't in the fashion world and others whose names I don't even know, but I know they exist. I've always kept quiet about this subject, because I always thought that if he came home to me he didn't really love these women. It hurt me to think about it, but he kept me going" you say, and show some photos of the women Gabriel has cheated on you with over the years "I also suffered psychological violence. I was manipulated to the point of not even being able to see my best friend, Michael Kaiser, who has always been a point of reference for me. Gabriel also forced me many times to do things I didn't want to, like fashion shows with clothes I didn't feel comfortable in. After all, I was his star model, right?" you say

"I never had the courage to say anything against Gabriel, because I seriously loved him. So, how could I ever cheat on him? Think about it. He painted me as a monster because he knew he had the power to do it. But maybe I have to thank him, it's thanks to him that I understood that I couldn't continue to go on like this. So I took everything and came back here to Germany, a place that has had my heart for years. I thought I could start something different here, something that would finally bring me back to being well, but I didn't know that the second part of my nightmare was about to begin. When I thought about starting over, I just realized that my past was coming with me. I discovered things about Gabriel that I didn't even think were humanly possible, and yet I saw them before my eyes. Can I have a microphone? I have to play some audios" you say, and before you finish the sentence you already have your microphone in your hands. The recordings begin and slowly everyone becomes aware of what you have heard, of Gabriel and of Ursula. After eight minutes of recording, the studio is completely silent, while you clear your throat "This is why I asked to finally speak in front of everyone. I've had this thought for a long time, but I never had the courage to do it. And yet here I am, serving you the truth on a silver platter, and I should thank someone who is here, since it was he who gave me the courage to do so. Believe what you want, it is not my goal to change your opinion, but I ask you only to think about it, and not to make accusations that are hard to handle. I only speak when I have proof, unlike someone"

Silence. Pure silence. The studio audience stares at you in shock, and you think that more or less the same is true for those watching from their homes. Then a round of applause, another, until everyone ends up applauding for you, including the interviewer. And it is from this gesture that you understand that now it is seriously all over, that now you can really start to be happy. People believe you. People who were previously confused or against you finally know the truth. The truth, so hidden by Gabriel, is finally given to the public

"Wow. Just wow" the woman says, still paralyzed "That's really something to show. You must be so scared, and yet you did it. You have courage, you really have a lot of it" he says "And yet, in your speech you mentioned someone. Would you like to tell us about it?" he says, and you smile spontaneously "I would love to"

For a few seconds you turn to Micheal, looking at each other with a look that only the two of you can understand "This someone is the boy I've known since I was 16, famous as well as unpleasant, but he has a heart of gold if you know how to handle it. He's the point of reference I've had as a girl and that I will have for a long time, at least until the day I die. Everyone knows who I'm talking about, our relationship has been talked about since we were still two teenangers. He is someone who gave me so much courage in moments when I didn't know what else to do but let myself sink, and in other moments when I just needed support he was there. Micheal Kaiser, the pearl of Bastard Munchen, the one everyone loves and hates at the same time, the one many would kill themselves for to spend an hour with, is my point of reference. Kaiser Micheal is my... he's my best friend. Forever" you say, even if the last sentence leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth: you are much more than best friends, he is your soulmate, he is your lovely boyfriend. But the world, you believe, is not ready for this yet

The audience erupts into yet another round of applause, louder and more vigorous. Kaiser applauds, and you know he's thinking the same thing you're thinking. You would seriously like to tell the truth, you know he would too, but it's not the right time yet, at least not now and here

"It's nice to know that someone helped you. It's also nice to know what he means to you, since you just confirmed that you are best friends, practically the same status for ten years now. By doing so, you confirmed that the speculation of a possible romantic relationship between the two of you is not ongoing, right?" says the woman, and you are seriously in trouble

You want to say it, but not now

Kaiser wants to say it, but he'll wait for you

"Think of us as you like. Best friends? Couple? Whatever you want, we accept everything" you say, and for the umpteenth time the audience erupts in a scream of amazement. Michael, amused, glances at you, and you can't help but smile at him as if nothing had happened. You want to compromise, and something like this seemed like the perfect option for both

In the immense room of the television studio, you finally feel seriously free. Free to speak, to no longer be afraid, to go back to being the same person you have always been. Free to finally love Kaiser in a way he deserves. For the first time in your life, you seriously believe you've passed Gabriel, passed by kilometers ahead

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan ; @sabrina-senpai ; @vannilaa16 ; @kaz-0e ; @tamashithe2nd ; @x3nafix (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

[soniclozdplove]

Wukong came in shortly after the demon monkey left, confused at the utterly terrified expressions on his old friends' faces.

"What happened!?"

"Demon... shadows..." Was all a pale faced Tang could choke out, shaking as he cluched his shakujō tightly. Wukong blinked in confusion before realization struck, his eyes lighting up in recognition before shifting to annoyance.

"Oh! You met him, huh? Figures he wouldn't leave well enough alone."

"Who is that scary guy anyways!?" Baije asks, looking somewhere between pissed and terrified, "That freak just came in and threatened us, I thought you said this place would be safe!"

"Watch it!" Wukong growled at him, low and angry as he glared at Baije, "Macaque is many things, but I will not tolerate anyone but me insulting him!"

Tang Sanzang's most lazy disciple promptly shut his mouth with an audible click of teeth. Tang was quickly learning that this strange, mature version of Wukong was someone who is very protective of those he cares for, and will not allow any perceived threat or insult to them to exist. Considering the boastful nature of the monkey he knows, he has to wonder. Was this change caused by age and many centuries of change? Or was this something his own Wukong was capable of? It's something to consider for when they return to their own time. If they return.

How quickly he went from being annoyed at the presence of the other monkey to defending him speaks leagues about the two as well, especially considering the threats Macaque had spoken of before he'd left. The two had to have a close bond, to defend each other in the same breath they'd insult each other. Tang cleared his throat, prepared to mediate.

"I would like to know more about this Macaque, character. Zu Baije was not wrong when he said he spoke to up in a threatening manner in regards to how he sees us and your safety only to leave when he sensed your approach."

Wukong frowned, grumbling something to himself that almost sounded like "overprotective, jealous bastard" before heaving a heavy sigh and looking him in the eye,

"Macaque is just jealous. He's worried that your presence in our... in my life again will cause a rift."

"How would we cause some sort of rift between you!?" Ao Lie asked, wringing his hands worriedly, "When you, uh... the younger you, told me about him, you seemed like you were close!"

"It's... complicated." Wukong looked down, a conflicted expression on his face as he sank into the couch next to them, hands clenched together as he stared at them, "Not something I'd like to get into. Let's just say, me and Macaque had a falling out of sorts during the Journey, and Macaque has gotten it into his head that you are to blame. You appearing here and now, as you are, is very ill timing."

It occurred to Tang, as he watched his eldest student seem to go through a form of heartbreak as he spoke of his friend, that this is the first time he'd ever seen Sun Wukong be vulnerable and open about his feelings. He seemed... small. A strange thing to consider for him, when just a few days earlier he had seen a much younger Wukong bludgeoning several demons to death. Just as quickly the moment passed, Wukong perking up as he seemed to remember something.

"Oh! Right. MK wanted to do some training earlier. He wanted to know if you wanted to watch, it's just some small sparring between the two of us, maybe a bit of meditation, nothing special."

"Sparring?" Tang blinked, feeling apprehensive. Sparring implies violence. Does Wukong teach his student violent lessons?

"I mean, yeah." Wukong shrugged, "Mercy is a virtue, but one can not simply just go through life without learning to defend themselves. Especially when you're a demon! Even now, there are those who would attack a demon simply for existing in peace. Never mind back in the Tang era where they'd be forced to hide in caves, rivers, and forests to escape persecution. You all should know this!"

[malk1ns]

january 7 vs blue jackets, 4-3 S/O loss

geno misses his first game in over two seasons. cue a five-alarm meltdown on tumblr and twitter lmao.

this fic contains mpreg. i wouldn't call it a dystopia exactly, but it's also not not a dystopia. it's not a breeding program, but it's not not a breeding program. you get it.

When Jarry lets in the second goal on the shootout and the Blue Jackets pour off the bench to celebrate, Zhenya slams his hand on the arm of the couch he and Tommer are watching from in the lounge and curses.

Tommer frowns at him. “Take it easy,” he says, glancing at the door. “We just barely got them to leave. If they hear you freaking out, they’ll make you go back to the exam room.”

Zhenya grumbles, but subsides. Tommer’s right. The medical staff had been loath to let Zhenya leave their sight, even though all he wanted to do was sit on a couch and watch the Penguins play. It had taken Tommer popping up from his meeting with the trainers and promising to stay with him before they left him alone.

Zhenya’s been taking pregnancy tests on a daily basis for the last two weeks, Sid hovering over his shoulder as they waited out the 15-minute timer. And every day, they’d both let out a breath when no second line showed up—Sid in disappointment, and Zhenya in…also disappointment, but not entirely.

Until this afternoon. Zhenya went to morning skate like normal, then came home and let Sid fuss at him before their nap. His alarm went off, he groaned and stumbled into the bathroom, he peed on a stick.

This time, though, as the countdown on his phone ticked over to five minutes left, a second faint line appeared.

“Holy shit,” Sid had said, hand sneaking around Zhenya’s torso to rest low on his belly. “Baby, look.”

They were later than normal to the arena for the game. Zhenya insisted on taking three more tests, watching each one pop positive as he swallowed back nausea.

He’s pregnant. The doctors confirmed it when they got to the rink; Sid must have called ahead, because they were waiting for them just inside the doors, whisking Zhenya away and shooing Sid off when he tried to follow. The blood test was conclusive, and Zhenya stared down at the printout in stunned silence.

He managed to avoid that particular clause in his contract for almost twenty years. He’d played his hardest, given this team and this city everything he had, and when his agent broached the topic in the off-season he put it off, changing the subject and dedicating himself to training so the team wouldn’t push the issue. If he’s playing well, after all, they’d rather keep him on the ice.

That changed with his last extension. Expectations were made clear, and even a regime change hadn’t altered them.

Zhenya hasn’t exactly made his case for anything different this year, he knows that. He’s been distracted, worn down by the extra media and public scrutiny once it leaked that he and Sid were trying. Everywhere he goes, he gets stopped by people asking how it’s going, if he has good news to share.

And there’s Sid.

In years past, Sid helped Zhenya track his cycle so they could avoid his most fertile days and extend Zhenya’s playing time. This year, though, he’d come back from the offseason, taken Zhenya to bed, and essentially not let him leave.

The attention is nice. What started back in 2006 as an arranged thing for the future of the organization turned quickly into something real, something permanent, and Zhenya will never be upset about being on the receiving end of Sidney Crosby’s considerable focus. It’s the why that’s making him uneasy.

Sid had always been different. Circumstances outside their control brought them together, but he made an effort to get to know Zhenya as a person, and the feelings that developed grew naturally, like a regular relationship. This season, though, he’s been different, fixated on the idea of getting Zhenya pregnant with an alarming level of enthusiasm. It’s infiltrated his dirty talk even, and while Zhenya won’t pretend it’s not hot in the moment, it’s been making him feel a little off, a little claustrophobic.

Technically, Zhenya can still play, for a few more weeks at least. He could probably force the issue, kick up a fuss and threaten to tell the union that the Penguins are violating his right to play while he’s still eligible. He thinks about Sid, though, the way Sid handed him into the car this afternoon like he was made of glass, and his stomach twists.

He’s a hockey player. His whole life has been structured around playing games, and getting ready to play games, and rehabbing from injuries so he can get ready to play games again. He doesn’t know how to take an extended break with no defined date of return.

But Sid’s been on overdrive all season, protective and overbearing. He’s only going to get worse now that it’s caught and Zhenya’s finally carrying his child. 

It’s probably easier if Zhenya just goes along with it, lets himself get put on IR and focuses on growing this baby.

After all, if he does a good job with this one, if it’s strong and healthy, they might not push him into trying for a second one right away. He and Sid can focus on being parents and Zhenya can get back into game shape, maybe even get one more crack at the postseason before he retires.

Sid fell in love with Zhenya’s hockey first, after all. He’ll want Zhenya to be able to play again.

Zhenya catches himself rubbing fretfully at his lower stomach, and his mouth twists.

[crumbleclub]

Mike trying to rationalize why Henry is okay with his dad hurting him, even when Michael isn't okay with him hurting his siblings. Even when nobody is okay with Michael hurting his siblings.

It wasn't as bad, right? He never laid a finger on them. They were only words.

Maybe it's because Mike is older. This bleeds into his protests, his haphazard attempts to protect. "Please, he's only six." Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him the way that you hurt me.

William finds this entertaining. He makes note of these things, wonders if he'd respond differently if William tried something else.

Maybe it's because William is an adult. He learns not to trust anyone older than him, but to let them do whatever they want. He learns to freeze; to shut down.

This makes him an easy target later on.

Is it because Michael deserves it? After Evan dies, he's sure that must be it. Willian knew what he was, and he only gave him what he already had coming. Michael was a murderer, after all. He deserved everything anyone might do to him.

It was his own fault.

[fisheito]

dante can swim, right? theres' no wauy the Royal Solarian Staff would let their king go his whole life not knowing such a lifesaving skill JUst cuz it's a desert doesn't mean there aren't pools!!! he has to know they HAD to have taught him there's no way he's stepping on a cruise ship surrounded by water while UNable to swim what if he falls in?!? he's not gonna float that's furr sure look at his muscle density and lack of fat the man's gonna sink like cement

[nomlioart]

i was supposed to do it earlier but i was really lazy lol, but here you go

my pepstavo hcs in a nutshell

a lil more in the tags 👁️ 

[roan-wayland]

The spirit seemed nervous, but Roan wondered if that wasn't just for show. Out of the two of them, the witch should have been the nervous one. If it hadn't been for his barrier magic he would most likely not have been a match for a spirit set out to harm him, but she would not know that. Her nervousness could of course be due to something else entirely, unrelated to her powers. Maybe she was just self-conscious by nature. "Of course, show me what you've got," he said with an encouraging nod.

He steeled himself as the spirit made herself immaterial. He was ready for the usual scary tricks that spirits pulled, and was utterly surprised by what he was shown. The little dancing rabbits cracked him up and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Wonderful," he commented, still laughing, and gave Naz a round of applause. "Your abilities are powerful. I'm pretty sure you could be an illusion yourself and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. And once you set your mind to it, there's literally nothing that can stop you. So, tell me, Naz, why do you think you need me?"

"Phew, you definitely want to be safe," she replied, a small smirk on her lips. It would be up to the witch if he believed her or not. The raven didn't seem to mind her so much and she waved to the bird when Roan glanced away, winking as she did. Hopefully the familiar wouldn't give up all her secrets so soon. It wasn't in Naz's nature to hurt someone so hopefully the raven perceived no threat.

"Thank goodness. I guess I should try and get my scout badges to earn that trust. Does self defence get me a badge?" she asked, playing into the joke. She was grateful he didn't point out her nerves or rambling. It was a bad habit but it had been slipping out more recently while her nerves were frayed. It was easy for him to say. Naz needed to learn not to rely on her magic, knowing she could easily die without it.

After the attack, Naz hadn't been sure that her powers would return but slowly they had. They didn't feel quite as strong but another witch had promised she would recover with time. "Are you sure?" she asked, glancing up at him. A spirit could be terrifying but he seemed to trust her. "Alright then, let's see," Naz hummed, tapping her chin as she became immaterial. It was one of the more simpler tricks, making it easy for her to pass through walls and people if she desired. She re-materialised with a smile as bright pink rabbits came bounding out around her, circling the witch and the raven. While she could manipulate the illusions into something terrifying, she made them do the charleston instead. "How's that?" she asked.

[danieyells]

I feel like Haku would like to laugh during sex. Like he fully embraces that, if you think about it, what you're doing is weird and funny. Sex is full of funny sounds and feelings and smells and movements and it is not that serious and he can't take it that seriously.

On top of that he's happy to be there with you. Why wouldn't he smile and laugh about it?

Obviously he'd try and reel it in if it made you feel uncomfortable or worried that you were being insulted--or he would try and turn those feelings around. What do you think he's laughing at in a negative way? He'll start to praise that instead. He'll practically start to worship it. Try and make you feel appreciated instead.

[shadystranger]

I watched the man I love die

[macabre-cross]

after realizing his feelings towards ken are romantic+sexual the first thing farfarello would do is consider the pros and cons of committing murder-suicide so he wouldn't have to deal with all that

[isekyaaa]

There's this really funny part in this study that has been done about suicide methods between males and females (which is not funny), but basically they go to say how men commit more suicides while women attempt more suicides. Men commit to the bit while women just don't. Hence while men will have more "violent" suicides like a gunshot to the head or hanging while women have more drug overdose and whatnot. But that's not the funny part. The funny part is that they say that women choose not to commit suicide via gunshot to the head due to the possibility of facial disfigurement LOL Like you really think that if someone is that in pain and despair to the point of wanting to die that they'll worry about failing and being ugly for the rest of their life?

I remember someone implying at one point that women don't want to be "ugly" when they die, hence why they choose methods like overdose. Granted, the study I mentioned did say that it's likely women choose these methods because they don't truly want to die. But still. The thought of beauty defining suicide method is so sexist it makes me laugh.

But it does get me wondering why women are less likely to commit to suicide. Why are men less likely to attempt but more likely to commit? I get that on some level people that choose these less... 100% mortality rate methods do want to be noticed and saved, but why? Tbh I don't think it's fear of death that's the factor. Is the suffering of a female less than a male? Or is it more the endurance of an male is less than a female?

I know no one is going to believe me, but I did suffer from very very bad anxiety and depression at one point in my life. It was very bad. Like not the kind of depression kids get nowadays, but the kind I'd cry for hours on end. I'd go days without eating. I could not function outside of going to work and coming home. I wouldn't shower or brush my teeth. I couldn't see myself living a year into the future. I wanted to die so badly. But despite all of that, I never was suicidal. I never ever considered killing myself. I fantasized about dying but I never fantasized about killing myself. I never fell into the habit of self-harm. So suicide ideation and suicidal desires is so weird for me to consider.

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody