#and yes granted he did just come from outside. but it's the fact that he felt like he had to wear the toupee outside in the first place oka
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gossippool · 5 months ago
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speaking of costume/makeup design i love that we go from wade wearing a toupee (at his own birthday party no less) as his way of trying to fit in in any way he can still control, to just him as himself!! which mirrors his character arc from needing to feel accepted or like he matters to other people to having self-acceptance and assurance in his own intrinsic worth <3
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also *eye twitch* the white shirt representing rebirth and renewal. the cardigan representing comfort and homeliness as compared to a windbreaker reminiscent of a shield to block out the elements. both worn to keep warm but in different ways
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cosmicpearlz · 8 months ago
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seeing green
summary: realistically, you have no right being jealous but you couldn't help it. he is yours whether anyone knew it or not.
pairing: jude bellingham x reader
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situationships were funny when it came down to being possessive over someone whose not yours officially. you and jude had been secretly seeing each other. calling each other at different times to meet each other's needs. it all started from a drunken kiss.
-the kiss-
"stop looking at me like that bellingham," you said, while slightly smirking at the boy sitting right next to you. you came over to jude's house because it was a stressful day. he suggested a couple drinks to unwind the day. leading you guys here.
"like what?"
"you know what I'm talking about," as you replied, jude slowly grew a grin on his face. he watched you with hooded eyes and licked his lips, taking in the sight of you.
"it's not my fault you're sitting here looking so fucking pretty."
"stop that."
"no. i'm really enjoying my view."
neither one of you realized how you guys shifted closer to each other on the couch. the soft sounds of the tv becoming background noise as you guys stared in each other's eyes.
"can i kiss you?"
"are you drunk?"
"nah, just tipsy. are you drunk love?"
"no sir, i'd say i'm just tipsy too."
"won't that ruin our friendship jude?" his hand inched up your thigh, caressing it. you looked down at his hand connected to your thigh and slightly smiled.
"just one kiss. then we'll be right back to the same y/n and jude that we've always been."
"just one kiss, right? it won't hurt us."
"it won't hurt us," jude echoed you. nose to nose now, jude seals the deal by kissing you.
the kiss starting off slow. his gentle touch paired with his soft lips, sent butterflies through your stomach. jude wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. once you settled in his lap, his fingers move under your shirt. brushing over the bare skin. you continued to explore each other as the kiss began to heat up. becoming more messy and eager. he licks your bottom lip and you were quick to grant him access. tongues fighting for dominance, causing you to grin into the kiss.
the kiss coming to end, jude lays a couple of pecks to your lips before you both pulled away. you shook your head with a smile and turned away from his gaze.
"that is the first and last time we kiss mr. bellingham," you hold up your pinky, to make a weak pinky promise.
"first and last time. scouts honor," he locks his pinky with yours and matches the grin you have. you giggled, making jude join into the laugher.
-
it wasn't the last time. in fact, you guys had share multiple kisses even without having drinks. which is why you held your drink tightly in your hand, as you watched him talk to another girl. seeing Jude smile and laugh with her, made your chest burn with jealousy.
"you alright mate?" you turn your head to find jobe standing next to you.
"of course, why wouldn't i be?"
"maybe because jude is standing there talking to another girl."
"we're best friends. definitely not together, so he can talk to who he wants."
"y'know i thought green would be your color. just maybe not this shade of green," you gasp and playfully slap the younger boy's shoulder. jobe chuckles and moves back, in hopes of not getting hit again.
"this is why jude's the better bellingham," you stick your tongue out and walk away from jobe with a small smile. jude takes this as a sign to excuse himself and follow you.
"fancy seeing you here."
"did you really follow me all the way outside?"
"well yes. did you really leave because you saw me with another girl?"
"maybe," you sip on your drink and turn your head away from him. jude moves closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist. bringing a hand to your chin, he turns your head to face him again.
"were you really jealous?"
"so what if I am?"
"ooo you wanna kiss me so bad, dontcha?" you laughed, pushing him away.
"shut up."
"c'mere, we're not done," he pulls you into him by your arm. you guys were chest to chest, as you looked up at him. brown eyes staring right back at you.
"i fear i ruined our friendship," you whispered to him, holding the intense eye contact.
"me too."
"what does this mean?"
"that i've been yours since we started hooking up."
"really?"
"yes darling. you literally have nothing to worry about."
"good, because i don't like to share."
"that's really funny because i don't either," jude pulls you into kiss. silently confirming that you guys are taking the steps to be exclusive. he was yours and you were his. although, he's really always been yours.
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henry7931 · 2 months ago
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Billy’s College Adventure Part 2
Samuel:
“Oh fuck!!!”
I scream out as Billy’s body pours out cum all over his slim chest. I stare down at cute dick I know have possession over.
That’s when the doorbell starts ringing. Well he’s quicker than I thought. I better get his body cleaned up. I quickly wipe off Billy’s chest and grab his shirt.
The doorbell rings over and over again.
“I’m coming! Just hold on a sec!”
I look through the peephole and my body waiting outside for me to open the door.
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“Who is it?,” I say just to mess with him.
“YOU KNOW WHO IT IS!”
“Hmmm… well I wasn’t expecting company. Not sure who you could be. Have we met before?”
“Dude! I’m in your body, you’re in mine. Can we just cut to the point and you let me in!”
“What’s the secret password?”
“Purple! Now let me in!”
“No… the password isn’t a ‘word.’ It’s a gesture…”
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“Hey it’s me! In your body, what’s up? Is this good enough?”
I bust out laughing, I thought he was going to flick me off.
I open up the door and Billy comes storming in.
“You know! It’s one thing for you to highjack my body! But it’s another for you to LITERALLY LOCK ME OUT,” says Billy who’s now in my (our I should say his) face.
“Oof! You got a spicy side! I like it!,” I say back with a big grin.
“Are got to be kidding me! You know what, I’ll fix this.”
I watch as Billy tries his hardest to switch us back. He tries for about a minute before giving up.
“Fuck! Why can’t I switch us back?”
“Oh Billy, you really don’t know the first thing about your powers do you? You’re a swapper. A swapper can’t un-swap somebody who’s also a swapper. Now you can swap others that I’ve swapped but you can’t swap us. Only I can now.”
I watch as Billy paced around the room struggling with the fact that I’m in control here.
“So I have a few questions,” he says to me.
“Sure!”
“First off, who the hell are you?!?”
“Well currently I’m you. But normally I’m Samuel, Sam for short.”
“Great. So you obviously are a—”
“Swapper.”
“Yes, you’re a swapper. Like me which I didn’t even know others existed outside of me.”
“Well other swappers are a little more quiet about their abilities. You just have yourself away earlier today.”
“I know, I figured that out pretty quick. This feels weird, normally it’s me hitting someone with the body swap surprise. Wait a minute, why did you swap that guy and that professor?”
“Great question! That Dufus really pissed me off. And I don’t really care for that professor so freaking him out too was just an added bonus.”
I watch as he tries his hardest to get a good read on me. It’s so refreshing to even talk about this someone who’s not my family. Granted the only other swapper in my family was my great uncle. He was kind enough to leave me a rule book.
“So you just did that to be petty?”
“Well yeah I guess, sounds terrible when you put it that way. But trust me that guy had it coming.”
“That seems pretty immature of you.”
“Oh so you’ve never just swapped with someone for the hell of it?”
“That’s not what I’m saying… I mean of course I have but it’s been years!”
“Geez Billy, didn’t know you set the roles for the swapper community.”
“Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying you really freaked those two out. Maybe like a simple prank could have worked.”
“Billy, I don’t think you understand how different the two of us are from the rest of the world. Most swapper do way worse things— sides I would have eventually swapped them back.”
Billy gets quiet for a second. I watch as he flops down on his couch. 
“So now that you kidnapped my body, what’s your plan here?,” says Billy.
“Finally! That was the question I’ve been waiting on. So I’ll be honest with you. I’ve personally never met another swapper outside of a family member who I really didn’t get to know. But he did leave me with a lot about our powers. And I want to start really using mine. But the kind of stuff I want to do is hard to do alone. So I guess in the nicest way I can say this… I’ll give you your body back as long as you join me in my exploration. Thoughts?”
“Ummm… is this going to be dangerous or potentially hurt someone?”
“Ahhhh no, at least not directly.”
“What do you mean by not directly?”
“Well I guess you can either find out and get your body back or just stay as me until I decide to swap us back. Which could be a very long time… years maybe.”
“Ugh fine! I’ll do whatever.”
“Cool!”
2 Hours Later…
Billy and I crashed out on his couch. It took him a bit to speak to me but once he got going he had so many questions about me. I let him ask me about my life, my family, etc. and he eventually started to open up about himself as well.
“So let me get this straight? You forced your babysitter to swap bodies with you like every time he came over??,” I ask him.
“Oh yeah! Honestly, I feel a little bad about it now because he’s so nice. Literally has no hard feelings. I was just a nightmare growing up. I could never stay in my body when I was young and trust me my dads tried hard! I even ran away a couple of times with his body. They of course found me every time. It sounds terrible but I really enjoyed being him.”
“That’s funny, I used to get really annoyed easy at family functions. I was a very emotional teen and my dad’s brother was a bit of a prick. Always thought he was jealous since he didn’t get the swapper trait and I did. I would literally swap everyone around just to piss all of them off. I’d even make sure everyone swapped with someone who I knew they would hate to be… oh this one time. I swapped my uncle and our dog for like a week. I got into sooo much trouble but it was so worth it.”
“Oh god not the dog!!”
“Yep! Even took my dog to the park. It was hilarious!”
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We went back and forth on our swap stories for hours. I door dashed us a bunch of food (on Billy’s card of course, I knew he would be cool with it the second I heard his parents are loaded lol).
“So do you have like any booze here?,” I asked him.
“Oh yeah! Want a glass of wine?”
“Sure!”
“Any preferences?”
“I mean I have your pallet so whatever you like lol.”
“Trueee, I guess I should asked for me haha.”
“Well I prefer red wines.”
“Gross!”
“You’re gonna like it I promise.”
We both crack open two bottles of wine and turn on a movie in the background. After a couple of glasses I started to feel a little frisky and maybe a little too open
“So I have a confession to make,” I say to him.
“Oh god, what is it?”
“It’s nothing bad! Oh god, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“Sit it out Sam!”
“Well before you got here, I um… I may have enjoyed your equipment.”
Billy sits up and for a second I thought he was going to be mad at me.
“Sam did you jerk off in my body?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t even explored your body, especially since I just rushed over here. And you explore all of mine huh?”
“Yeah I don’t know, it’s been a minute since I’ve swapped with a cute guy. I may have just lost control.”
“Ohhhh so you think I’m cute?” he gives me a cheeky grin.
“Ugh, don’t get too excited.”
“Well, I think it’s only fair for me to have my turn,” he says with a bigger more cynical grin.
“What?!?”
“You heard me! I’m forced to be you so it’s only fair for me to have my fun too!”
“Fine!,” I say back. I feel a rush hit me. I’ve never been around a guy that’s in my body talking about using my body that way. It’s kinda hot.
“So what you’re gonna go to your room or do it right here?,” I say to him sarcastically.
He takes a big swig from the bottle of wine and pulls my shirt off.
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“You wanna come watch the show?,” he says winking at me.
Before I can answer Billy grabs my hand and pulls me up. I follow him to his bedroom.
Billy pulls down my sweatpants and hops onto his bed.
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“What do you think? Do you look… sexy?”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Okay… here is the big reveal!,” he says to me slowly lowering my underwear.
“1..2..3…”
Billy pulls my underwear down and my dick flies out. It’s completely hard.
“Nice!! 10 out 10 dick right here,” he says holding my dick.
“You gonna…”
“Slow down cowboy! It’s my turn to explore.”
I watch Billy gently fondle my goods. I can feel his dick pulsating— I can barely hide the fact that I’m just as turned on.
“So Sam, now it’s my turn to give you two options. You can hop into bed with me and we can full around or you can stand right in that exact spot with my hard on all night. Which one will it be?”
“Bed.”
“Good, now get over here!”
Billy nearly rips the clothes off of his body.
“Is it weird that I want to kiss you right now,” he says to me.
“Nah, just a little self love,” I say back.
We start making out and he’s such a great kisser. I feel him reach down and he starts fondling his dick.
“You’re so sexy,” I say to him.
He kiss my neck and says, “your body or me?”
“Your presence, your body. But you all around.”
“So are you, even though you’re a bit of a dick.”
“What turns you on the most Billy?,” I ask him.
He lifts up his head, “you really want to know?”
“Yeah I do.”
“Feet.”
Somehow, someway, I got even harder from the words that came out of his mouth.
“Is that weird?”
“Fuck no because that’s what turns me on too.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope! Your feet are so sexy…,” I say to him.
He looks at mine and grins.
“You have cute feet too.”
“Would it be weird if we…,” I say gesturing to his toes.
“Nope!”
I use Billys feet and wrap them around my dick. I start stroking back and forth. He lets out grunts in between.
I maneuver back and forth using his toes to grip.
“Don’t stop Sam! Fuckkkk,” he yells out.
I go faster and faster…
Billy is moaning sooo loud…
And then he screams out, “IM CUMMING!!!”
Cum squirts out on to his feet covering them.
He grabs his foot and does something so hot. I watch as he licks foot clean with my mouth.
“Shit… that was amazing…”
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deathbxnny · 6 months ago
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So, this is another addition to our Arlecchino x Wife!Fem!Reader series, and I had to make a separate post from the ask due to formatting issues. You can see the inspo of said post HERE, tho!
Thank you otherwise to our dear X Anon for another great request, and I hope this is to your liking!!<33
(Also, sorry this took 5 years to make X Anon... life hates me-)
(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part five)
Content: Female reader, fluff, slight angst, established relationship, actually wholesome for once!
Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns
((Not proofread))
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Sweet strawberry cakes and stitched together teddy bears. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)
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You only vividly remember the last time you celebrated your birthday. You had just turned sixteen, and whilst no one usually ever put much importance on this day for you, Peruere and Clervie always did. You recall the pink haired girl approaching you in the darkness of your room as she crawled into bed with you carefully. Peruere stood at the door, unmoving and still, but she was there. Just for you.
Placing a clumsily made cake onto your lap, Clervie leaned her head against yours, her voice quiet and hushed in fear of being heard. "Happy birthday." She whispered into your ear, and it meant the world to you. Peruere delicately held a small gift in her clawed hands, her emotionless face partially illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window. It was a teddy bear they had made themselves, or maybe Clervie stitched it together whilst your wife found it's pieces. Either way, it was lost to time eventually, just like your dearest friend was.
Now, many years later and far away from the past that still haunts you, you forbade Arlecchino to ever mention that day again. Or, well, you never had to say anything. Both of your birthdays meant nothing to you after your previous "mother's" fall and so, you took your rebirths into your own hands.
Your past life wasn't a part of you here.
But on this day, in which you are forever reminded of your mere mortality and the fact that many of your companions never got older than the last birthday you remembered, you find yourself rather somber, even more than usual at that. And despite your wish to forget about it, your wife still acknowledged it with a kiss on your wrist in the morning. You felt bitter every time she did so, even of you knew she meant well.
Thankfully, however, this day would usually pass every year without anyone even thinking about it being your birthday. You often forget it yourself, too, anyway.
But today felt... different.
Perhaps it was the way Arlecchino's gaze seemed sharper and more focused even in the home, or the way Freminet was practically sweating buckets as he asked you to come along with him and his other two siblings for a "short" outing. But you could tell something was off.
"... You want to go run errands with me?" The question was asked carefully, yet the three siblings could immideatly tell that you were suspicious. It wasn't often that you left the home and everyone knew that you would rather not if you could help it. You were always worried about everyone's well-being, considering your past and its hardships. So your son's request was definitely quite odd. They usually never bothered to ask unless the errand runs were absolutely necessary. And you couldn't necessarily remember anything out of the ordinary happening this week either.
Lyney gave you a sly smile as he pressed a hand against your back and practically pushed you towards the front door with a tip of his hat. "Yes indeed, mother! Now let's get going before the bread at the baker sells out for the day!" He chimed as happily as always, yet that just earned him a raise of a brow from both you and Lynette for similar reasons. It was 12 pm... the bread had most definitely run out by now.
Deciding not to question it, you concluded that they may have just wanted to spend time with you outside. Fair enough, you supposed that you could grant them a small outing. Surely everyone will be fine for an hour or two. Arlecchino just gave you and the three siblings a silent nod in approval from her seat in the kitchen as she flipped through her paperwork with mild interest. The Father of the Hearth house being home certainly quelled your worries as you finally allowed Lyney to drag you out with no further complaints.
--
The streets were rather busy at this time of the day. You usually stayed clear around these hours and preferred to go out at night if there was ever the need for it. But Lyney was ever so determined to complete this errand run and if it was the last thing he did. Lynette had yet to say a word about it, whilst Freminet clinged to your side, often glancing at his pocket watch in near worry for a reason you couldn't figure out.
"Lyney, child... are you sure this is absolutely necessary?" You asked just as you were about to reach the bakery. "Ofcourse! We just ran out of bread after all... and you know how the younger kids get about that, mother." That was a flat-out lie, you noted swiftly. You were pretty sure that you had more than enough at home. But once again, you didn't say anything more. Perhaps they really did want to just spend time with you... but why couldn't they just say that outright?
As expected, however, the baker not only had no bread left but had closed shop early too. Lynette gave her sweating brother a deadpan, as he clearly was trying to come up with an excuse. One glance at Freminet, who was quickly shaking his head behind you whilst holding up his watch, made it clear that they couldn't turn around yet. They doubted that everyone was done setting everything up and needed to buy time. But you were always so hard-headed when it came to spending too much time away from the house. So what should they do now?
Clearing his throat, Lyney turned to you with a strained smile. "Ah! My, my... quite the bad luck, right? No matter, we still have other things on the list we can get for todays dinner!" Your brows furrowed at that. You don't recall even mentioning what you'd make today to anyone yet. Lynette swiftly elbowed her brother in the ribs knowingly whilst you were deep in thought, which made the man quickly straighten up and take off his hat. "Oh ah! Because we wanted to cook today! Together!" "... You've never done that before." "Ahahaha... you're so funny, mother! Now let's get going before the other shops close too!" He quickly grabbed onto your arm and pulled you along, his head turning to give his other two siblings a silent nod to proceed with their plans.
Since the two were trailing after the both of you, they were quick to pick up any small gifts when you weren't looking. They already had plenty for you at home, but with you watching everyone intensely every day, hiding anything from you was near impossible. It was a blessing and curse alike, yet you taught them well as they began practically hoarding anything they found under their clothes or making them disappear through some little magic tricks. Freminet was shaking like a leaf throughout all of this, yet hoped you didn't notice it too much.
Thankfully, you were more preoccupied with your oldest son dragging you around for his imaginary ingredient list that you were by now convinced didn't even exist. The more time went by, the more anxious and irritated you became. Sure, you appreciated that they wanted to go out with you, but unfortunately, your excellent perception was beginning to make you restless. You just wanted to get home already and resume your schedule with the other children.
"Okay, next up is-" "-Lyney, enough of this boy. Let's head home." You said as the setting sun bathed the world around you in its last sun rays. Freminet hid behind Lynette at the finality in your voice, which made it clear that you were very much done with their games. They knew that you were catching on and that hiding everything from you was impossible. It was truly impressive yet expected from the Mother of the House of Hearth.
Said young man gave you his usual smile, yet you could tell how nervous he was. "But Mother-" "-I'm unsure of what you're doing, all three of you." You began as you crossed your arms with a frown. "And I appreciate it if all you want is to just spend time with me. I really do. But you can also just say that, children. I know how busy your father and I can get, so I can understand... but you also have to also understand, that I have alot to do at home and can't stay out for long." You gently scolded the three, who just glanced at eachother in response. Well, this was not necessarily their goal... but it did hold you up for longer anyway!
After your lecture, you dragged the three back home. You were very tired from the outing, and whilst you found it nice to leave the house for a bit, today just felt so awfully wrong for you. Stepping into the dark and silent house, however, you couldn't help but freeze. The house of Hearth was never silent. It was always moving one way or another, even into the late hours of the night. It never laid still, never truly slept. Your anxiety shot through the roof, as many possibilities ran through your mind at once. Years and years of loss, torture, and pain always made you fear for the worst in moments like these.
Yet when you quickly rounded the corner to the grand living room in absolute terror and worry, the lights suddenly came on and a deafening yell of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOTHER!" rang through the vast house. Confetti flew into the air, and you blinked in surprise, as the three siblings, including the rest of the children and even your wife, stood in front of you around a large table filled with a beautiful cake and plenty of endless gifts. You opened your mouth in surprise, yet were left speechless in shock, as the fear melted away in relief.
Suddenly, everything made sense, and you nearly felt proud that your children were able to sneak past you and organize such a grand party... but only nearly. A sob suddenly shook your body as you pressed a hand against your mouth. That was definitely too much for your heart to handle. Everyone stopped for a moment, realising that they maybe had gone too far, yet Arlecchino approaching you made them all relax again.
She took hold of your hands and wiped away your tears with her claws so delicately. "My apologies. We may have gone overboard." The party wasn't necessarily her idea, nor did she truly understand its purpose, but she had hoped that it would bring you some joy on a day that had been soured forever. And thankfully, when you gave her a weak smile, she was glad to learn that it indeed had done exactly that. "No, I... am just very happy. That's all." It was a partial lie. But it melted into the truth when you looked at all of your happy children in your home. You had made it so far in life. Who would've ever thought that you would ever find yourself happy on this accursed day? "However, give me another heart attack like this one, and I am kicking you all out for a day." You huffed, making everyone giggle before dragging you over to the table to celebrate.
Arlecchino calmly watched you from afar, her gaze calm and gentle. Especially when you opened your wife's gift to find a certain teddy bear in it that instantly moved you to tears once more. You met her eye, an expression on your face she understood well.
You both hoped Clervie was celebrating with you from above, just like she always would.
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elizakai · 1 year ago
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I like thinking about their more canon adjacent dynamic (character wise)
MINI ANALYSIS TIME
Because while I love the soft interpretations, even WITH those let’s be real; that’s not how they’d act off the bat
Horror would be extremely judgmental (fair) and hate Dust for what he did. He’d despise him and probably be very passive aggressive. Making jabs and making his disdain apparent when they have to interact. I think getting a read on Dust is also difficult and would piss Horror off. Horror is unpredictable and has a sadistic streak, if he was mad or manic and had Dust in a corner he’d have no qualms about manhandling the guy. (And Dust probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.)
Meanwhile, Dusttale’s creator was asked once how Dust may feel if he met Horror, to which they said he feels bad for Horror. He likes him, sees him as someone who went through something horribly undeserved. In my mind Dust is somewhat protective of Horror.
I interpret these clashing of dynamics as Horror’s just utter disdain for this guy, and Dust’s resigned acceptance of Horror’s judgment. He’d agree with him if he were to judge himself, but I think a part of him wants Horror’s approval. He doesn’t EVER expect to get it, but Horror is….
While he’s seen hell, he’s almost a less tormented version of Dust himself. Deep down they are the same. Horror has suffered greatly, but even still hasn’t hit the deep end dust has, and I think he’d want to protect that sort of innocence he’s granted. One could think of it as him protecting a piece of himself he himself has already sacrificed. And wanting APPROVAL from him, wishing to be forgiven, craving that small piece of validation or understanding as he tries to reconcile with himself.
Horror’s formed opinion makes sense, he agrees with it, and simply wishes he disagreed, that he could have proof of himself being a FRACTION worthy of forgiveness or understanding.
The judge in both of them has both formed an opinion of the other, and they happen to differ greatly. Horror sees Dust as an abuser and Dust sees Horror as a victim.
I like to imagine that, while reluctantly thrown into the same general vicinity, Horror would grow to be more understanding (again if we are going with a PROGRESSIVE plot line) and come to understand that, yes, he wasn’t WRONG, but there is nuance to the situation. They both have a very grim understanding of what it’s like to be trapped. I think he has the capacity to understand Dust better if he was given time. His hands aren’t clean after all, and he knows what it’s like to be forced into a situation and to feel backed into a drastic decision. He knows what it’s like to lose your autonomy and to feel your mind break itself under pressure.
I think the simple fact that Dust wouldn’t TRY to change his mind or justify himself would be part of why Horror could come to understand him. He’s devestated by his actions, he is by no means a sadist.
Horror coming to understand Dust and sort of reconcile/forgive him I think would be rather BIG for Horror, especially if you factor in other situations he now has to consider. (For example, his Undyne and her drastic attempt at freeing the undergroud…) reconciling his OWN arguably cruel decisions he has made with pure intentions, when he feels there’s no other choice (like his Papyrus and tricking him into doing something so outside of his beliefs, to protect him)
It would also be healing for Dust to get that reconciliation with Horror because again…Horror’s opinion actually may MATTER.
And in the same way that Dust may see Horror as a sort of person to be protected from further harm, Horror would probably pick up on all of the VERY bad habits Dust has that (in my observation at least) are EXTREMELY similar to his own habits/past habits (isolation, obsession, deprivation, paranoia, bringing harm to self etc) and I could see him being sensitive towards those and trying to prevent it worsening (it’s a sore subject💔) Horror is shown to prioritize taking care of those he cares about, even when he’s a bit mad, and he has the capacity to grow an understanding for someone he doesn’t like initially :))
I think they have potential to be VERY good for one another, Horror (while being fucked up) encourages (and maybe forces) better habits and actually has an opinion that matters to Dust, and Dust is inclined to be VERY loyal (Horror needs someone to show him loyalty.) to anyone who cares to give him the time of day, as it’s far beyond what he’d expect, and he’s got the sympathy/protective streak towards Horror as an actual in character detail.
And from there it would be wonderful to explore their dynamic in whatever way you like to interpret it🤫💥
I could go on but I’ll stop here, if you read this all CONGRATS!!!
Share your thoughts I love it
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years ago
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REPLACED.
YANDERE! ROCKSTAR (FEROZE KHAN) x GN! MANAGER / PA ! READER x YANDERE! POP IDOL (JISOO HAN [EVE] )
FEROZE BELONGS TO MANAGER READER AND @moyazaika !! Just wanted to make a lil gift for my lovely moot 💋
[ Part 2 : REHEARSAL ]
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You were absolutely terrified.
Lord knows how you were able to get the Feroze Khan to agree with collaborating, with a “goody two shoes” pop idol who flirted to hell and back with you, no less. But you just knew someone was going to get hurt by the end of this.
Eve used to be your client before you were dumped into the depths of hell. Aside from the flirtations and clinginess, he was a dream to work with as a manager. He never got into scandals, and he worked day and night to be the best in his craft. You never had to worry when it came to his career. You however, took that for granted and left him the moment you got a better deal. Getting to work with a junior idol vs a seasoned rockstar, the choice was obvious was it not?
Nope.
Eve making tons of songs about heartbreak only poured salt into the wound. You saw him as your little brother almost, it was hard seeing him grieve for your presence. You felt heartless. Guilt ate you up from the inside out. You were lucky he didn’t try contacting you after it all.
Until now.
heeeyyy there! beena while. you workin with Feroze at the moment right???
You squinted at the DM you received. As a manager you were used to dealing with all sorts of texts. Thirsty ones, death threats, collaboration requests. But none of them made your heart beat this quickly. Was it out of excitement, nervousness, or terror? You didn’t know.
I am.
short and straight to the point as always!! i’ve always loved that about you
∧,,,∧
(  ̳• · • ̳)
/    づ♡
take my love, wontchu?
You covered your mouth and squealed.
“The fuck?” Feroze looked up from his guitar at the noise you made. He had to admit it was cute but it did ruin a recording of his.
“Sorry, I’ll go outside.”
“No, stay. I need you here.”
You simply nodded, already used to his obsession with you at this point.
annyyyywaysss i just wanted to ask if you could secure a collab with me n mr. khan?
been tryin to get ahold of him but all i got back was radio silence 🥶
but i know if it’s you, the bestest manager ever, i’ll be able to collab with the bestest rockstar in the world!!
i’ll be a good boy i promise!! pretty please with a cherry and me on top?
Somehow you doubted that. But as your own self appointed protocol states, you must report the matter to your client.
“Feroze, you’ve got another collab request.”
“Was it the person that got you squealing?”
Oh no, you did not like his tone. Jealous Feroze was a monster to deal with. “. . . Yes ? “
“Go for it.”
“What? D-don’t you want to hear about their music style and what not before you—“
“I just have one condition. They have to come to me.”
And, you were doomed.
“Right. I’ll schedule a meeting.”
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You stand corrected. They got along well. A bit too well for your liking. You didn’t have to stand awkwardly there while Feroze glared (as he usually does) at his collaborator. In fact they were even conversating! And it wasn’t small talk…
“Mr. Khan! You’re even dreamier up close.”
Your employer even seemed to be amused by Eve’s personality. “I could say the same for you, Eve right? Like the biblical Eve? And please, call me Feroze.”
“Yeah! They thought it’d be a nice call back to my more . . . type of music.“
“Type of music you say. . .”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Oh, you bet I am.”
Why do you have a feeling you were being replaced?
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YOU RECEIVED A SPECIAL POSTER!
Check it out?
[ ✅ YES ]
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[ PART 2: REHEARSAL ]
tempted to make a bl/mlm spin off of these two fr fr
©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | moyazaika | 2023
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twiishaa · 2 months ago
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twisha’s merry christmas event! meeting santa with akito shinonome
akito x fem!reader, fluff! you take your little sister to meet santa at the 'santa's grotto' nearby. except.. santa looks a bit familliar....
you had been standing in the line for santa’s grotto for a little longer than 10 minutes now. for some reason, from the moment your sister had woken up, all she had wanted to do was meet santa at the christmas fair, so being the dependable older sister you were, you took her to santa's grotto. honestly, it was the christmas holidays and you’d rather be doing anything else right now, but it was a good distraction from the fact all your friends were on holiday, and your boyfriend, shinonome akito was working at his part-time today.
a few minutes later, you and your sister were the next in line. now that you were closer, the santa this year was a bit… younger than they usually are? like sure, the santas are never actually old people, but this santa seemed, like, your age… maybe they were just short staffed. who were you to judge?
finally, it was your sister’s turn. as she sat down on his leg, his hazel eyes looked awfully familiar, like a face you saw every day. and.. why did they hire a ginger to play santa? you could see a strand of hair sticking out from under his comically large hat and wig.
wait… hazel eyes? ginger hair?
oh my god. you may have forgotten the miniscule fact that your boyfriend’s part time was at a christmas fair—this one, to be exact.
they could’ve asked anyone to dress up as santa, but no—they chose the tired teenager with striking ginger hair. who also happened to be—
your boyfriend, shinonome akito.
when you connected the dots, you were trying not to burst out in laughter or ruin it for your dear sister. it seemed akito noticed already and was staring daggers at you; unable to hold it, you let out a few giggles, which made your sister glared you.
“is there anything funny about me asking for sylvanian families? hmm?” she asked, crossing her arms. clearing your throat, you replied,
“no, no! not at all—while you’re at it, could you ask santa to perform his christmas magic on my boyfriend so he’s free at least one day to go out with me? pleaseeee,” you said.
oh, you were milking the situation. your sister turned to santa (akito). “you heard that, right? I don’t really want to repeat that,”
akito replied, still looking at you, “yeah- no I heard that completely. ill make sure to tell my elves , thank you for coming here today, ho ho ho-“
“wait.” you interjected. “can I get a photo?” you asked, already taking out your phone.
akito was giving you a don’t you dare expression, but you couldn’t care less—your sister was already smiling for the camera.
whilst you two were leaving, akito mouthed a “meet me outside,” to you. you nodded, acknowledging what he said before giggling.
after dropping off your sister at some workshop in the fair, you were waiting behind one of the staff tents, as instructed by your boyfriend earlier.
once he was in your line of sight, you started laughing again, remembering how he looked in that huge santa suit.
“you should’ve told me you were THE santa before, I would’ve come even earlier!” you doubled over in laughter.
“that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” akito deadpanned.
eventually catching your breath, you added, “and my sister didn’t even notice it was you! she’s so dense sometimes,” causing akito to crack a smile, seeing you so happy—maybe he could dress up as santa a few more times.
“so, about your christmas wish…” akito started.
“oh that? that was just banter-”
“no, I’m free tomorrow. we should go out somewhere.” akito said, looking into your eyes.
“really?” your eyes lit up a little. “sure!”
when you and your sister were walking home later that day, your sister asked you:
“hey, I know I told santa my wish, but will he actually do it?”
you smiled, “yes, he will. in fact, my christmas wish’s been granted already.”
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taglist @hearts4hansol @catientie @d0milol
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rallamajoop · 11 months ago
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More random details from the depths of RE8
With the excuse of trying some shiny new mods, I've been replaying RE8 lately for the umpteenth time. Given the number of hours I've already poured into this game, you'd really think there'd be nothing left to find by this stage ‒ yet here I am, finding still more details I'd somehow missed the first half-dozen times through.
For one, there's the fact you can actually find Eva's grave in the graveyard outside the church. As the only photo we ever see of her shows her as a baby, I'd assumed she was still a baby when she died, but turns out, she was ten years old.
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"Eva, June 1909 ‒ August 1919
May you slumber for only a short while"
As expected, her death of the Spanish flu took place in 1919. There's some semi-legible text on the stone, but it doesn't match the caption ‒ it's just the same generic filler text you'll find on half the gravestone assets in this game.
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For another, there's Rose's baby monitor. I'd noticed Ethan turning the thing on when he puts her to bed, and even found the assets for its screen ‒ but since I'd never found the monitor itself, I assumed they must be unused.
Until this playthrough, when suddenly I'm just like, oh, there it is, sitting right on the table. You can even interact with it!
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How did I miss this so many times? It is pretty easy to overlook, given you'll trigger the cutscene with Mia if you go much closer to the kitchen, but I'm still surprised I never spotted it before. (And you do have to wonder if there was ever any plan for it to show a glimpse of something more sinister than just a still-image of Rose sleeping.)
In other minor details, there's the bit where Ethan arrives on the outskirts of the village at 8AM. You can hear a clock striking 8 times as you get your first view of area.
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Granted, this is not going to excite anyone who hasn't spent as long as I have putting together an hour-by-hour timeline of everything that happens in this game, but I still do love that they give you enough detail that that's even possible ‒ and this new timestamp fits right into that timeline. (And why yes I have just gone back and updated that post, what do you take me for?)
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Speaking of assets I thought were unused, you know that hidden room under the castle you can't get into until later, where you have to solve a puzzle that involves setting a moroaica on fire? Have you ever looked closely at the tapestries decorating this place? Because I found them in the game files ages ago, and have been trying to figure out if they're actually in the game ever since.
Because seriously, look at these things!
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Yes, that is a indeed a man with a sword and spear, wearing a hoplite helmet and sandals and nothing else. And the women seeing him from the front seem to be having a whole range of reactions to all that, er, weaponry being brandished their way. Isn't fine art wonderful?
Another asset I'd innocently assumed was unused is this wonderful bit of bullshit which was labeled simply 'antibow'. It wasn't until I took a long look at it that I realised what they meant was more like 'anti-B.O.W.', as in Bio-Organic-Weapon.
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Yes, that is indeed a knife taped to some kind of grenade. Sure is one high-tech outfit we're working with here!
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Only now do I spot that this is actually the bomb Chris chucks at the Megamycete in the cavern. It doesn't even come with the knife already attached, he just kind of sticks the knife onto the bomb and presumably straps some tape around them while the camera cuts away.
I still have so much more to share from my ongoing free-camera adventures, but I think we'll leave this one there for today.
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kaithonks · 4 months ago
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So I’ve had some Thoughts about From the DC Vault: Death in the Family: Robin Lives!
Warning: Spoilers 
My mistake with From the DC Vault: Death in the Family: Robin Lives! was thinking that the story would actually be about Robin. That was on me. I should have known better, but I let my excitement of finally getting more Jason Todd, Robin content get away from me. I set up poor expectations, and it’s not the comic’s fault for not meeting those expectations. 
Everything else is, though. 
I know I’m biased, and I am probably writing this too soon after having finished Robin Lives to really give myself time to think critically about the story. But, I also feel rather offended by the end and feel the need to strike while the iron is hot. Recently, I talked about fans and writers needing to have respect for each other, as they can’t exist without each other. I also mentioned having a respect for the history of the comic. On that, I don’t get the feeling that J. M. DeMatteis has much respect for the history that was Jason’s Robin run. Granted, this isn’t mainline canon. It is more of a ‘What if?’ So DeMatteis wasn’t “entrusted” the same way but, there was still a line of basic respect that feels very lacking. Now, DeMatteis has been writing since the 80s and has written a lot for both DC and Marvel so he is a part of comic history, but this doesn’t really translate into respect for characters. Or for fans.
Both Jason and Dick’s character have a rough time in this 4 issue series. While the series called “Robin Lives” mostly focuses on Bruce and his regret, by doing that it makes Jason and Dick more like props for Bruce’s guilt than actually characters with their own agency. Bruce outright denies Dick’s choice in becoming a Robin and even later Nightwing. In this guilt, Bruce totally takes away the fact that even as a child, Dick did choose this, and he chose it again when he became Nightwing. So Bruce’s guilt serves no one here. And this problem gets worst with the Robin Lives ending. Dick becoming Batman, is an incredibly weak ending to start. Because most of Dick’s history is him growing out of Robin and then trying to break out of Bruce’s shadow. Yes, Battle for the Cowl happens, but it’s more complex than Dick just becoming Batman. And it’s easy to see how pointless all of Bruce’s guilt was when he decided to leave his role as Batman, only for Dick to take it up again. It really feels like Dick is only a prop for Bruce’s journey. Dick is here for Bruce to feel guilty about, but then to also relieve him of the duty that also makes him feel guilty. 
And it is so much worse with Jason. This does sort of come back to me setting up poor expectations and the fact I thought this would be about Jason’s recover, but it was glossed over. We simply jump to Jason now being okay, which is a choice, if on the unbelievable side. What is worse, though, is how Bruce and the comic, makes Jason’s trauma about Bruce. Because yes, to an extent Bruce holds fault for the events leading up to Death in the Family. But he mainly holds fault in the form of negligence. He didn’t properly check out Sheila Haywood's background before for deciding she was a safe person to leave his son with. I am boiling down the issue of character interaction between Bruce and Jason (and outside influence that puts Jason’s last issues into context), but my point still stands that Bruce and Jason still made choices. For Jason’s part, he chose to trust Shelia to try, and save her. And in reality, Joker and Shelia hold the blame for Jason’s trauma. The fact Shelia was only briefly seen in a hallucination and “saving” Jason, again feels like DeMatteis has a lacking appreciation for the history of Jason’s Robin, and it’s context. Yes, Shelia saving Jason would be something Jason would want, but the event after this takes away everything that would make Jason still want Shelia’s affection in some way. With the ending and Jason becoming the Joker to Dick’s Batman, shows this. It ultimately feels like both Dick and Jason were used as stage props to re-establish some kind of status quo for a series that was only planned for only four issue. The run very well could have ended with the Joker’s death and everyone going to live happy lives but for some reason no. 
Now, one could see that as DeMatteis having a respect for Batman’s history as a whole and a path for a continuation. I would argue, though, that it shouldn’t come at the cost of other character’s agency. The leap in Jason’s “madness” is awkward, and when I say leap I mean a massive leap. This goes back to my problem with the story not focusing on Jason. We spend so much time in Bruce’s grief that when it is about Jason, everything goes sideways and ends up with being a “What the hell did that happen?” Especially since in the context of the story, Jason should have gotten a lot more support from Bruce, now retired, from Dick, now living back in Gotham, and from Dr. Sarawarti Dev, a psychologist. Having Jason still become the Joker after all this, not only feels like all of those people continued to fail him (especially as Bruce and Dr. Sara get married, which was a strange addition), but that he never really had any choice.  The story didn’t take the time to show us this, to show us how or where Jason became the Joker. He even denied becoming like the Joke in early issue 4. A point might be made that killing the Joker made Jason the new Joker, but a counterpoint Why? Jason already had the choice and decided? Why did he go back on that? Jason was Robin, Robin has the role of bringing hope, and being more compassionate, countering the fear Batman brings. We see Jason’s compassion before he died (or was injured in this case), when he still tried to save Shelia after she betrayed him. We see it in this comic with him still wanting her affection in his hallucination. So where did that compassion and care go?  
The answer? It didn’t go anywhere.  It was forgotten for the sake of a convoluted twist to make a reader gasp. Robin Lives spends its whole four issue run taking away the choice and agency of Robin. Robin does not live here. He becomes a puppet of the plot not to move outside of its designated story, he only can become Batman or the Joker. But never his own being. For anyone who’s ever enjoyed Robin, be it Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne or any other Robin, past or future, Robin Lives is an insult.
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owl-with-a-pen · 7 months ago
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Outside of superhero emergencies, Kara didn’t tend to lean into her super hearing where she could avoid it. Girl’s night at her apartment, for example, definitely shouldn’t have called for it. Then again, she wasn’t usually the subject of discussion in just about every apartment block on her street.
So, maybe that wasn’t completely true. She’d certainly heard her name mentioned a lot more since the whole secret identity reveal thing; it was just, nowadays, instead of hearing Supergirl, it was usually Kara Zor-El.
She was used to it. She’d been used to it for years; her name was normally a hot topic days, if not weeks after a major save was broadcast. The only difference now was… not all of those voices were as positive as she’d come to expect.
Like right now, for instance. No matter how hard she tried to shut it out, she couldn’t help but listen for that same voice echoing from hundreds of homes across the city, streaming from earbuds, speakers and laptops alike. His voice was charismatic and quick, like a less polished Maxwell Lord, and while he may have been a nobody just a few weeks ago, he’d certainly gained enough traction now to give Kara one hell of a headache.
Unfortunately for her, she’d inadvertently tuned herself in at just the right time for her downstairs neighbour to hit play:
“Alright folks, if you missed our last episode I’ll catch you up to speed. Last week, we rounded off at the crux of the Supergirl Problem; that she hasn’t just been living in our midst this whole time, but that she’s been actively working as a journalist for CatCo Worldwide Media. And, just a few weeks ago, she was publicly put in charge of the editorial process for that same media outlet minutes after she came clean about her alter-ego to the world. And, as I doubt Supergirl will want to speak for herself on the matter, we have one of her self-proclaimed super-fans in the house today to speak on her behalf. Say it with me at home folks, debate me, Supergirl!”
The aforementioned ‘super-fan’ let out a surprised scoff at her introduction. She didn’t waste a minute of her airtime, jumping immediately into the conversation: “Well, for starters, I think you’re taking this whole thing out of context. Supergirl didn’t just become a journalist for CatCo overnight. If you knew anything about Kara’s story, you’d know that she worked her way up the food chain for years! I mean, how empowering is that? She started as a PA!”
“Yeah, a PA with superspeed, how difficult. No wonder she ended up in Cat Grant’s palm! And yes, I do know her origin story, thank you very much.” The host’s voice crackled as Kara imagined him relaxing into his microphone. “Let the audience not forget that she was a PA for Cat Grant before she became a journalist. Are we really going to pretend that wasn’t her foot in the door?”
“Cat Grant wasn’t even her boss when she got into journalism,” argued the young woman. “And by the time Kara made a name for herself, Cat wasn’t even leading the company anymore! She got to where she is now on her own merit, no one elses!”
The host spoke over her: “It begs the question, did Cat Grant know this whole time? She takes a sabbatical only to re-emerge just in time to offer Supergirl a promotion. On top of that, she’s been promoting Supergirl for years! She created her – her words, on record. And now she’s put her in charge of media distribution. Get this: Supergirl is now in charge of the media we consume. Isn’t that a little self-indulgent?”
The young woman didn’t back down. “Kara Danvers was a Pultizer winning journalist long before we found out who she really was,” she argued. “She’s been standing for truth and justice just as much as Supergirl has. In fact, she’s just as much a hero as—”
“But what’s the agenda here?” the host continued with a conspiratorial air. “How can we even believe the news now it’s being headed by a liar? And she did, didn’t she? She lied to us all! She had a secret identity this whole time, and what? We’re just supposed to accept that? What’s the bet that this story will make a headline at CatCo magazine tomorrow morning, with my comments made out as Supergirl’s latest villain story? Or, better yet, will I be Kara Danver’s first official nemesis?” He barked out a laugh into his microphone. “There’s no freedom of the press anymore, folks, not when CatCo is bias towards the very hero that made it so popular in the first place!”
Before she could hear any more, Kara was thrown from her super-eavesdropping rather unceremoniously when a hand shot out in front of her face, waving impatiently.  
“Earth to Kara,” Alex said, snapping her fingers in front of her sister’s nose. “Hey, anyone home?”
“Huh?” Kara said before screwing her eyes shut, swatting away Alex’s offending hand. “Hey, hey, stop that!”
It was only then that she realised that it wasn’t just Alex who had been trying to get her attention. Lena and Kelly were staring at her from the opposite sofa. Nia sat cross legged on the footstool by the coffee table, nursing her drink with an expectant expression.
Kara glanced lamely at the TV. It didn’t look like anyone had been paying attention to the movie for quite some time.
Just how long had she been…?
Kara tried not to cringe.
Kelly cleared her throat, smoothing her hands over her lap. “From your expression, I’m guessing you were listening in on something pretty important.” She hesitated. “Is everything okay?”
Kara’s eyes widened. “What? Oh, oh no, it’s not a superhero emergency, I swear. Girl’s night continues uninterrupted, I promise!”
“Okay,” Nia said with a slow smile. “Then what was with the—” She mimicked Kara’s spaced-out expression a little too well, earning a few grins at her expense.
Kara pursed her lips. “Uh—I mean. It was nothing. Just…” She sagged in on herself awkwardly. “Okay, so I may have been listening to this podcast…”
“Oof.” Alex winced. “You don’t wanna do that.”
Kara groaned, falling back against the sofa. “I’ve been trying not to, but it’s kinda hard when half of my building’s listening to it.” She rubbed aggressively at her ears. “Super hearing can really suck, you guys.”
“Wait,” Nia said, perking up. “Are you talking about the Debate Me, Supergirl podcast?” When everyone turned to stare at her, she shrugged. “What? Brainy’s been keeping tabs on all social channels for this stuff ever since your interview first went public, y’know, calculating the odds on them picking up any real traction. In case things go… south.”
“And what are the odds on this guy?” Alex asked seriously.
Nia made a vague gesture. “I mean, until a few days ago, Brainy had him in the unlikely category. But his latest interview with a Supergirl stan got a whole lot of attention on social media. They were basically at each other’s throats the entire time.” She took a mild sip of her drink. “People ate it up.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Of course they did. And I’m guessing from your tone, not much of the audience were on this super – uh – stan’s side?”
Nia pulled a face, taking an even larger swig.
Kara groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “This is awful. I- I just can’t believe how little faith they have in me now that they know the truth!”
Lena smiled her sympathy. “Take it from someone who was once deluded enough to fall right into that same category of hatefully ignorant.” She toasted her scotch glass to no one in particular, swirling its contents with a gentle twist of her wrist. “It’s not easy for people to accept that their larger-than-life hero was living amongst them.”
Kara’s head shot up in protest. “I never wanted anyone to put me on a pedestal.”
“Want has nothing to do about it. Like it or not, they did.” Lena paused, tucking her legs into the sofa’s arm. She fixed Kara with a level look. “Kara, I say this as your friend, but you have to understand how powerful you are in the eyes of a regular citizen. You fly, you shoot laser beams from your eyes, you’re bullet proof and fire proof. Your power is limitless and even though this city has seen you fall, they’ve also seen you get back up time and time again.”
Kara bit her lip. “That part I can understand, but it’s not just that. This podcaster isn’t only targeting my Supergirl persona. It’s Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El that they don’t trust.” She snorted, throwing her hands wide. “They think the fact that I’m working as CatCo’s Editor-in-Chief makes the whole platform inherently bias. And – yes – I know I’ve fought my own biases in the past, and it’s not like being impartial was what won me a Pulitzer, but to them— a superhero in the press just doesn’t appeal. They think I’m a fraud, that I’ve been manipulating public opinion.” Kara could feel her face begin to flush in frustration. She ran a hand through her hair, standing just to put her energy somewhere. She slammed a fist against her palm, taking a step around the coffee table with every beat. “But, I mean, don’t they remember how CatCo turned on Supergirl after the Red Kryptonite incident? And rightfully, too. I lost the people’s trust then, and now—now it’s happening all over again and I just… I don’t know how to win them back,” she laughed through her teeth, “or if I can win them back!”
Alex took Kara’s arm swiftly as she passed her by, tugging her to her side. “Hey, no one said this was gonna be easy.”
“I think those were Cat’s exact words, actually,” Nia said helpfully, pointing in Alex’s direction.
Kara huffed, anchored by her sister’s steadying hand. “Yeah? Well, they didn’t say it would be this difficult, either.”
“Don’t listen to a few angry voices,” Nia insisted, her voice sobering. “They aren’t worth your energy, trust me.”
“Are they just a few?” Kara asked grimly. If she tried hard enough, she was sure she could still tune into hundreds of versions of that same podcast playing from across the city. Whether they agreed with him or not, the people of National City and beyond were listening to this nameless podcaster, and that was dangerous enough on its own.
Nia smiled tightly, balling her knuckles against her lap. “Just don’t listen to them, okay?” She closed her eyes. “Look, people like to make a lot of noise when they feel like they’ve been lied to, but the truth is, they were never entitled to that information to begin with. When I did my Dreamer interview with you, a lot of people were so supportive; some of them even saw themselves in me, but there were always hateful voices that tried to drown out the positive ones.” She straightened her back, opening her eyes. “But, y’know, they make that much noise because they know they’re in the minority, and they do not have the power that they think. Putting it into perspective like that… it’s a lot easier to ignore them, especially when I know how many people I’ve helped by sharing my story.”
“You’re right,” Kara said softly. Because she was. Of course she was. A single podcast spouting a single negative view didn’t diminish everything good that had come out of Supergirl’s identity reveal. Yes, the celebrity-level thing took some getting used to and openly flying to work made her something of a spectacle when it came to the office situation, but for the most part, Kara was relieved to have that weight off her shoulders, and it was a joy to know just how many aliens felt more confident to live as themselves now that they knew Supergirl had also shared their struggle.
In truth, the world knowing where she had come from, who she had been ever since she’d landed on Earth, grounded her to the people in a way that had never struck quite the same as just Supergirl. And that was worth any amount of growing pains.
Kara reached out for Nia’s hand over the coffee table, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”
Nia’s smile softened. “Any time.”
Lena cleared her throat, shifting higher against her pillow. “And, as for your job,” she said with a sly smile of her own, “let’s just say I know a thing or two about the public coming for your throat, deeming you unworthy of the position you’ve fairly worked your way up to. It’s just like Nia said, you ignore it, Kara. You ignore it because you have nothing to prove to anyone, you’re already doing one hell of a job as a journalist. Remain honest with yourself, and eventually people will see it. Not everyone of course.” She tilted her head, raising her glass to her lips. “You’ll never have everyone’s approval. If you did, well, I’d say you were on another planet, because that’s certainly not how the human race are wired.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Nia chimed in, leaning up to clink her glass with Lena’s. She caught Kelly’s glass on her way back.
Kelly smiled fondly, though there was a strained edge to her expression when she said, “We’ve all had to work twice as hard to prove ourselves. And as much as it hurts, that extends to Supergirl as well.”
Kara sat back down with a sigh, leaning into the embrace that Alex readily offered her. “Cat once told me the same thing; right after she’d first claimed Supergirl, actually.”
“Exactly,” Alex said with a sage nod. She kissed her sister’s hair. “And, hey, Cat Grant won’t let a podcast beat down her creation. Hell, her empire is built on powerful women, it always has been, always will.” She gestured to everyone in the room. “You are all prime examples of that.”
Kara nudged her sister playfully, pushing out of her arms. “Hey, well, the amount of times the DEO has personally kept that building from crashing to the ground, I’d say you’re an honorary member of Cat’s empire, too.”
Alex’s nose crinkled. “I think I prefer the title of badass DEO leader, but I’ll take it.” She grinned, rolling her eyes. “The point is, you have us, Kara.”
“Yeah.” Nia beamed. “And our opinion is worth a million times more than some crappy podcast.”
“Oh, cheers to that, too!” Alex laughed and they all converged with their glasses, meeting with a raucous clash over the coffee table.
Cheers rang out all ‘round, and Kara let the simple joy of that moment infect her. Their combined laughter easily blotted out any chances of hearing another word from that podcaster’s mouth.
She'd lost the taste for eavesdropping, anyway.
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munson-blurbs · 8 months ago
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@corrodedcoffinfest Day 13: Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll
Word Count: 677/Rating: M/Pairing: None/CW: drug use (marijuana), mentions of sex, moaning, general debauchery with the guys/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Wayne Munson, competition
Divider credit to @silkholland
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“Dude,” Gareth drawls, taking a long hit from the joint, “y’know what we should do?”
Grant laughs before his friend can even finish his sentence, plunging one hand into the bag of pretzels to his left. 
Eddie plucks the joint from Gareth, earning a scowl from Jeff who was next up in the rotation. “What’s up?”
Gareth grins. “We should record a song—”
“Already did that,” Jeff cuts in. 
“Shut the fuck up! Anyway,” Gareth takes an exaggerated breath, “we should, like, record a woman moaning and put it in the track. Like in Rocket Queen.”
Grant drops a pretzel. “You’re a fuckin’ genius!” He tries to clap Gareth on the back but misses, sending the two into a fit of giggles. 
“Yeah, a genius.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Except for the fact that we’re not exactly drowning in moaning women.” He stretches, exposing a sliver of torso. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re all still virgins. The handy that Jeff got behind the Hideout doesn’t count.”
Jeff elbows him, but Eddie’s too high to notice. “Maybe we don’t need women,” Jeff muses. “Ed, you still got that tape recorder?”
Eddie’s brows shoot up. “Yeah. Somewhere around here.” He digs around under his bed until he finds it, blowing off the dust. 
Jeff presses the PLAY and RECORD buttons in unison. The cassette’s wheels spin. “Check, one, two,” he mumbles into the mic. 
And then he lets out one long, shrill moan. 
“What the fuck,” Gareth guffaws, “was that?”
Eddie yanks the recorder away from Jeff. “Someone’s gonna think we’re torturing puppies and call animal control.”
“Seriously, dude. What porn are you watching?” Grant adds. He takes the recorder from Eddie. “It’s gotta be sexy. Like this.”
He holds the microphone close to his mouth, breathing out moans in short bursts. After ten seconds of that, he glances around the room to gauge everyone’s reactions. 
“Well…” Eddie starts, taking another hit, “that was…less bad than Jeff’s.”
A triumphant grin stretches across Grant’s face. Eddie’s too stoned to elaborate that their other guitarist had set the bar in hell. 
Instead, he turns his attention to the drummer. “Gare? You willing to give it a shot?”
Grant snickers. “Should be easy for him considering he’s barely hit puberty.”
“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Gareth shoots back. Grabbing the mic, he lets out a series of what sound like pained yelps. 
Eddie scrambles for the tape recorder. “So that’s gonna be a hard pass from me,” he says with obviously feigned kindness, “but we’ll keep you in mind if we ever need an impression of someone being electrocuted.”
“Whatever.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you give it a try, Sex God?”
“Just because he’s gotten laid doesn’t mean he’s made her moan,” Jeff points out, earning a high-five from Grant. 
Eddie flips them off. “Fuck all of you. I’ll have you know I’m a goddamn giver.” 
He double-checks that the cassette wheels are spinning, then indulges the guys in the most realistic moaning they’ve ever heard outside of Family Video’s adult section. 
“Oh my god! H-oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!”
“Boy, what the hell are you doing?”
Wayne Munson stands in the trailer’s entrance carrying two brown paper bags filled with groceries. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn bright red, sobriety infiltrating his brain. Long gone is his hazy high. “N-Nothing.” He drops the microphone. “Just messing around.”
“Sounds like a goddamn brothel in here,” Wayne grumbles, shoving Chef Boyardee cans into the pantry. 
“Wait.” Eddie forces himself to look at his uncle. “Like, did it actually sound good? Did I sound like a woman moaning?”
Wayne studies him with a look of sheer disappointment and disbelief. “I’m gonna go out to the truck and get the last bag,” he says slowly, “and when I come back, I want these numbskulls gone, and I want you to never ask me something like that again.”
“Got it.” Eddie nods, but the second Wayne leaves, he turns to his bandmates. 
“Looks like we have a winner, boys.”
--
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erikftglitter · 3 months ago
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Ch 4 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens' New Wife
Killmonger AU
Created By: Erikftglitter
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Kari had been focused all week. She adjusted a week’s worth of lesson planning, updated grades, scheduled guest speakers for career day, and managed to grade homework. She did everything that she could possibly think of before the weekend started. She just wanted to relax and she wasn’t fond of spending the weekend prepping.
“Ms. Evans. Can I speak with you for a moment?” Kari’s concentration temporarily seized. Principal Grant stood in entrance of her classroom.
“Yes. What can I help you with?” Kari asked, offering him a half smile.
Principal Grant starred at Kari for moment before speaking.
“The semiannual teacher’s conference is coming up, as you already know, and I wondering if you’d want to represent our school this time around?”
His son broke his arm last night. Administration was overwhelmed by processing each student’s individualized wellness reports. The rest of the teachers weren’t even open to discussing the curriculum. What good would they be to vote on the school’s future? Kari was the only acceptable candidate for the job.
“Yes! Please email me.” Kari beamed. This was a perfect opportunity. She could finally learn firsthand about teaching methodologies, strategies for the upcoming semester, and not to mention the opportunity of boasting her students’ accomplishments.
Another thought crossed Kari’s mind but she was too scared to entertain it. This also presented the opportunity to meet new men. She felt uncomfortable with the idea though. She wanted Dr. Stevens but she did think about the fact that many women were swooned by the doctor. He was breathtakingly beautiful.
Why would he settle for just Kari?
Kari sighed once Principal Grant left her classroom. She was having a very productive time until their conversation. While it wasn’t his fault, per se, she still didn’t want to feel like she did at the moment. She didn’t think about the fact that she rarely knew much about the doctor’s love life or his love aspirations. What if he didn’t care for marriage? What if he hated children?
Breathe Kari.
Breathe Kitten.
That seemed to work. Kari was targeting too many possibilities without any real rationale. If Dr. Stevens wasn’t at least a little bit interested in her, then he wouldn’t have extended the invitation for dinner. That calmed her nerves and she laughed at her own apprehensiveness.
Kari was able to get back to work. The last thing that she needed to do was disinfect her classroom. It was definitely time to wipe down everything, possibly twice, and deodorize the rug inside of the classroom library. The cooling weather would soon attract common colds throughout the school and she wouldn’t allow herself to welcome the breeding grounds of disaster.
Kari’s ride home was quite pleasant. She accomplished a great deal of work and the clean classroom definitely improved her day. She was ready to enjoy yet another weekend of relaxation. She would probably order Chinese food then watch a few of her favorite movies.
Kari had only been in the house for five minutes before the doorbell rang. She peeked outside of her bedroom window and saw the mail delivery truck. She’s not sure about what she needed to possibly sign, but she rushed downstairs to meet the mailman.
“Kari Evans?” He inquired. Kari nodded and gently took the ink pen from his hands.
“Thank you.” Kari said softly as she turned to close the door. The box that she received wasn’t too heavy but she was very curious about its contents. There was no indication of what could be inside of it. Kari didn’t remember if she was waiting for a package, but she usually wasn’t quick to forget about stuff like that. She had already picked up her purchase from the bookstore.
She hurried to the kitchen to retrieve some scissors. She paced herself as she cut along the taped folds. She pried open the box and was soon baffled of its contents.
There lied a pristinely large white box that read Chloé. There was no way that this was supposed to be shipped to Kari. She retrieved the original brown box but it surely read her name.
Kari’s heart was beating profusely as she opened the box. She’d never been gifted luxurious items. She wondered who was honoring her with the gift. What did she do to deserve it?
She carefully pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a stunningly radiant bag. She gasped at the sight of the beige shoulder bag in front of her. Crafted from calfskin. Manufactured in Italy. Is Kari dreaming?
A white card with her name on it caught her attention.
“Kari.
Thank you for showing me around Caber City. As a token of my gratitude please accept this invitation to join me for dinner tonight. I’ll see you at 8.
— Dr. Stevens”
There was no way. Was this man ludicrous? Had he gone mad? Did he just spend three thousand dollars to ask Kari on a date that she already agreed to? Kari didn’t need to ask herself if Dr. Stevens was interested in, for he just made that abundantly clear.
Could she accept this? What truly came with accepting a gift this expensive? Was Erik an abusive ex-navy narcissist? Did he buy his way into women’s lives?
That didn’t sound like Erik but Kari couldn’t quite grasp why he would purchase such an expensive gift. Flowers couldn’t be a first step? Kari was confused. She was very flattered by the bag but confused.
Erik had to be a facade. He couldn’t possibly be real. Who was Doctor Stevens really? His tranquil nature, his perfect physique, his captivating voice, and honorable credentials had to he compensating for something. What was wrong with him?
Nonetheless Kari only had a few hours to get ready. If Dr. Stevens was applying pressure like this then surely Kari would prove herself worthy. She was far too invested to turn around now. Erik made her body weak without being present and she needed to get to the bottom of it.
Jazz music blared throughout the house. Erik had Kari extremely excited about this evening. She was walking on clouds as she got ready. She had to bathe as she was too anxious to stand in a hot shower. She found herself sitting in the tub rumbling over the endless possibilities. She was persistent about getting Dr. Stevens to break tonight. She’s not sure what she meant by that but she wanted a deeper level of confirmation of her inklings.
There was something different about Erik and she needed to figure that out. She was on the route to falling for the man and she wanted to be certain that he was the man for her. She was very grateful that she chose to grocery shop that day, for she felt like her life was just starting to begin.
Here she was lathering a thick layer of vanilla scented body scrub on her legs. The beads of vanilla felt great as she exfoliated her skin. Between the face mask, the shaving, the scrubbing, and the unexpected wash day, Kari took a few moments to rest in the tub. She was starting to grow lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. This was usually a day of very little activity but she wasn’t complaining.
With one final wash, Kari rinsed her entire body with cool water. Her skin was still glistening from the hydrating formulas. Dr. Stevens was in for the night of his life if that is what he wanted.
Prior to prom night, Kari hadn’t had much sex. She would not be the one to initiate those insinuations, but she really did enjoy the way that Erik’s hands felt over her bare body. For the first time Kari felt herself fantasizing about a man bending her over. What was that, she thought. And come this only happened when she thought about Erik?
Kari lazily wrapped her body around a drying towel and reached for the water on the vanity sink. She was definitely parched after those thoughts of Erik continually crossed her mind. She sat the cup down and eyed her reflection. She felt beautiful. Almost as beautiful as her brand new shoulder bag. Kari beamed at the remembrance of the bag.
If she wanted to straighten her hair and have time to do a full-face then she needed to get started. She was very grateful for the creation of the hot styling brush. A blow dryer and straightener in one was life changing. She didn’t need her hair to be silk pressed. She didn’t have time to attempt to get her naturally coils to a fine predicament. However she would straighten it then leave rollers in until Erik arrived. The goal was a feathered look that would complement her new bag!
After what felt like eternity, Kari’s entire head was full of rollers, and she was ready to get dressed. She needed to moisturize her body and sit down before she fainted. The thought of fainting and ruining date night was enough to make her drink some more water.
She continued the vanilla theme well into her fragrance of choice. She felt beautiful. She’d decided to wear a cream sleeveless, mock neck, midi dress that was purchased forever ago. What a lovely time to finally wear it. She kept the makeup simple. A soft, reliable, cut crease was always the perfect complement to any outfit. With a bag of that caliber Kari rightfully assumed that Erik was taking her to an elegant dinner.
8PM was slowly approaching so Kari began to undo her hair rollers. She released the breath that she’d been silently holding. All she needed to do was transfer the essentials from her regular purse to her new Chloé shoulder bag.
Kari perked up at the sound of the door bell. Silencing the jazz music, Kari began to steadily make her way down the stairs and into Erik’s arms.
“Hello Kari.”
__
@theesmartblonde
@ziayamikaelson
@ladymac82
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deathofacupid · 1 year ago
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waiting | peter parker
summary: you're trying to be paitent with him, the war with thanos can't possibly have been easy to deal with, much less the trauma. you've given peter all you have, but it's gotten too much.
angst? mentions of past ed, mentions of purging, mentions of sex (like one), cursing a bit, mean petey, panic attck kinda
after the war with thanos, peter had grown distant. and you didn't blame him, you figured that he was giving himself a break, he was taking time to heal. and you understood that, peter was grieving. 
you always tried to be there for him, but he made it hard sometimes. 
never did you hold it against him.
peter had lost his mentor, his teammates, and beyond that- his family. you didn't expect him to move on, it was a lot at once, even more so with the blip. he was still adjusting (you were too, but this was different).
he spent nights on the couch, outside who-knows-where, and sometimes... sometimes he would drink. you took note of the fact he tried not to do it around you. 
but some nights he would come home late, stenched in the strong odor of beer and sweat. peter would be drunk and snappy, and yes, at times it scared you. 
not that you'd ever tell peter that. 
but his "grieving" grew unhealthy, and who were you to let that slide? he wouldn't eat or drink properly, god knows about his hygene, and he wasn't getting enough sleep. so you made him cooperate, which did result in many arguements, but it did work for the most part. but your relationship, you felt, wouldn't ever be the same.
date nights? what were those?
kissing? nope.
sex? no. never. (not that it was a big deal for you, you could care less about that.)
no hand-holding. 
and no cuddles. cuddles. none of those. 
peter snapped at you often. he struggled to contain his temper, and easily grew annoyed. it was like even the smallest remark could lead to something big.
"peter, you have to eat. you didn't have breakfast."
"you didn't either."
"that's different. i haven't been skipping my meals."
"why? you've been throwing up instead?"
he watched as your face twisted into disbelief and pain. but you pushed it away, dead-set on getting peter to eat.
"this isn't healthy, love."
"neither is you getting on the scale a hundred times a day."
you had been checking your weight more frequently again, part of the reason being the fact that you were scared peter didn't love you anymore because you were getting fat. but it wasn't unhealthy. 
you recognized the problem. you told your therapist, stopping it from becoming something bad. 
but peter wouldn't know that. he wouldn't know anything.
"please don't go there," you whispered quietly, "i just want you to be happy, okay? and healthy." that must've been where he felt like the conversation had ended, so he left. you didn't know what to do anymore. so you cried. because that felt like the only thing you could do right.
-
(first person)
"i just don't know what to do-"
"you know you have, like, an actual therapist for this, right?" mj asked, raising an eyebrow. 
"well, yeah, but she doesn't know peter like you do."
she sighed, locking eyes with me, "y/n, peter's being a dick, and i don't know when he'll see that you aren't somebody for him to take his anger out onto. you shouldn't be taken for granted."
"mj, it's not like that. he's just-"
"what? grieving? is that what you've been telling yourself? babes, this isn't even that anymore. it's unhealthy. not just for him, but for you. yeah, he lost people. i did, too. my mom died, y/n, she died. and i wasn't in that hospital with her while she was on her deathbed. why? because of the fucking blip. but i've moved on. everyone has, because where will moping around like an alcohol addict get you?
"know what? i'll answer that for you. nowhere. it'll get you nowhere. i get it, you want to be there for him-"
"no! you don't get it! i love him! i-i need... i need to be there for him," my sentence broke into quiet sobs, and mj pulled my close to her, rubbing my back. 
"i know, i know," she cooed. soon enough, my crying ceased, and i pulled away with red eyes. 
"what do i do, then? just leave him? he doesn't have anyone."
"talk to him. maybe he'll change."
"and if he doesn't?"
mj gave me a look, because i already knew the answer. yes, in a way she was right. it was an unhealthy, toxic relationship. peter was pulling me down, and he was breaking off a piece of my heart every passing day. 
thinking about not being with him, left me with a dull ache, but at the same time, it was a crushing sensation, one that broke me down completely. i couldn't imagine a life without him. 
he was my life. he... is my life? was it too late to be speaking in the present tense? 
maybe mj was right. maybe i needed to talk to him. 
but i was scared. i was really, really scared. what if...? what if it ended horribly? and i never saw him again?
what if i left him, and no one was there for peter... and he'd- he'd die? because he wasn't sleeping right? or eating enough? or staying hydrated? 
what if he needed someone to help patch him up? but no one was there? would he simply bleed out? 
my heart sped faster at the thought, and my breath came out ragged. 
"woah, hey, breathe."
i pushed away any and all thoughts of him, focusing on inhaling and exhaling, trying to get my heartbeat to normal. 
-
(peter's pov)
"peter!" y/n chirped, a grin on her face. i sighed, already feeling a migraine come on. i didn't want to talk. i wanted to sleep, or... i don't know. just not talk. 
"you know that book i've been reading? it's really good, by the way, i think you'd really like it. there's this boy who reminds me of you," she wiggled her eyebrows, "he's like, super scared of spiders. which is ironic."
i tried to tune her out, but her voice was loud. really loud. my head was blaring, and i kind of wanted to puke. 
stop talking. please.
"-coming here! they've got a convention and everything? can you believe it? and, get this, i got us both freaking tickets! we can, like, have a date or something. it's from 2:00-6:00, so we can get food at this fancy new diner that just opened up-"
has y/n always been this annoying? there's no way. if i'd known before, i doubt i would've started this. 
i gritted my teeth, ready to pull all of my hair out. how much would it take for her to fuck off?
"oh my god," i muttered, completely done and exasperated. "do you ever consider carrying around a plant for all the oxygen you waste everyday?"
i watched her smile drop instantly, satisfied. for once, it felt good to hurt someone. i was so goddamn tired of always helping everyone. this was barely a tenth of how i felt. she blinked rapidly, and i went back to the web shooter. 
damn thing just wouldn't-
"can we talk?" i inhaled sharply.
"what, y/n? what? what could you possibly have to say that you haven't already said yet?"
"i-i, um, i-"
"is that all you know how to say?"
"no, i'm sorry. no, wait, no i'm not. you're the one being a dick. which is precisely why i wanted to talk."
"jeez. what do you want me to say?"
"you don't have to say anything. not yet. can you- can you just listen?"
i didn't answer, going back to tinkering. if this would make her feel better, then whatever.
"i just... i feel like we aren't the same. you aren't, at least. and maybe i've changed too, i don't know. i can't really dicate that for myself, that wouldn't be fair," she laughed, and i could practically feel her nervousness. y/n's heartbeat was loud, too, so loud that it felt like it was banging the in the back of my head. i could smell the sweat on her hands, too.
 what did she possibly have to say that was freaking her out like this?
"i love you, peter. i haven't stopped."
"...okay?"
"i'm trying to say that i want things to go back to normal. i don't know if that's even possible, but i know we can try. because i'm willing to make things work, and give you another chance."
i spun around, narrowing my eyes at her. ""i'm sorry, 'another chance'?"
"um... yeah?" y/n said, and i could tell she was getting less confident.
"why the absolute, and i cannot stress this enough, the fuck would i need another chance?"
"do you hear yourself? the way you're speaking to me? how- how did we go from that... to this? my gosh, you used to be the sweetest boy ever. you apologized for things that weren't even your fault, and you said 'thank you' for things you didn't need to say to. what happened to that?"
"spider-man happened. and why are you making me sound like the bad guy? i save lives because i can, out of my free will."
"i miss you," she whispered. "i miss my peter. this isn't- you aren't-"
"aren't what? go on. because i-"
"shut up. shut the fuck up and let me talk. for once in your life, listen," i snapped my mouth shut, waiting, and shocked.
"a memory. a faded picture. a failed potential. because that's all we are now, right? why fight for something i know will go nowhere? why fight for someone who can't fight for me back? you know what i've realized? 
"i've realized there is so much more to the world than this, than you. i realized how much love i could give to the world and how stupid i was for only giving that love to you when you didn't even deserve it.
"this is what i feared the most. this moment right here. the transition between having something and having nothing but regret. and it's happening right now, right in front of my eyes, and there's nothing i can even do about it. 
but, peter, this is for me. this is so i can grow and let go. because now i know that you won't change. if this is the way that it's going to go now, i want no part of it." 
she was crying now, and i scoffed. "what the hell are you even saying? what do you mean?"
"what i mean is, i'm going to stop watering a dead flower, expecting it to grow again. it's over. this is over."
i didn't know what to say, so i gaped at her. what did she mean "over"? y/n wasn't going to just leave, i knew she didn't have that in her. 
"so that's it? because once i get out of that door, what we once had will perish. i'm afraid i'm not ready for that yet. maybe i never will be."
"fine, then. leave. you'll be back anyways," i shrugged, and she sighed, shaking her head. 
so i let her. i let her leave. 
and then i waited for her to come back. 
i waited a long time. 
i still am. 
that's when i realized how she felt. 
she'd been waiting, too. 
the only difference was that we'd switched roles.
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dyns33 · 10 months ago
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Down the Pit - Part 3
It took me some times to continue this series, so sorry ! I'll finish it, I just started way too many stories at the same time.
Tag : @jaxitaxibolehlaf (I almost forgot, my bad !!)
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Y/N felt a bit like a single mother who had been granted joint custody of a little girl and a giant, with a ninja leader she had never met.
She didn't have all the details, but it was obvious that Talia had had to fight a lot with her father to have the right to come back and see her.
Bane had undoubtedly supported her in her efforts, insisting on accompanying her every time she wanted to return to Gotham.
No doubt he had pointed out that the city was dangerous for a child alone, despite her training and intelligence.
He had always been her protector, so it was only right that he was by her side.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to see Y/N again as much as the girl, not at all.
If Ra's al Ghul did not believe him or was resistant, Bane still obtained authorization to follow Talia to Gotham, about once a month.
Their stays only lasted a few days, a week at most, but they were the most beautiful moments of Y/N's life.
The distribution of rooms was done naturally. Because it was too dangerous to leave her defenseless, but for her to claim her space, Talia took Y/N's room, at the end of the hallway.
Y/N went to the small guest room, which you absolutely had to pass by to see the young girl.
Bane had seemed to hesitate for a few moments, staring at the living room couch, then without saying anything, the first night, he had followed her, lying down next to her, never touching her and remaining frozen, as if waiting that she orders him to leave.
Since she didn't say anything either, it seemed normal that they would sleep together, like when they were in the Pit.
Except it wasn't quite the same thing.
Firstly, because they had a real bed and there was no risk of being killed in their sleep. Maybe enemies of the league could try to get to them here, but no one would be crazy enough to approach Bane.
Plus, there was more than enough room on the couch, for Y/N anyway. Even the bed wasn't big enough to really accommodate the giant, and since he was her guest, it was out of the question to make him sleep in bad conditions.
She had offered him the guest room, but he had raised a hand very calmly to silence her.
"I won't kick you out of your own bed, Habibi. But if you don't want me to…"
"There is no problem." she said quickly. Probably a little too quickly but he didn't bring it up.
"Alright."
Even though the bed was small, they didn't touch each other. It seemed impossible and yet Bane found a way to always stay a few inches away from her. There were times when Y/N woke up with her head on his shoulder, but he didn't move, and he stayed perfectly still until she got up.
It was very likely that he was acting out of courtesy. He had always been very tactile in the Pit, keeping one arm around her and one hand on Talia, to make sure no one was going to try to take them from him. But they were no longer in the Pit.
Despite his always protective side, he didn't really have an excuse to touch her. He was probably waiting for her authorization.
But there was another possibility. A possibility that scared Y/N.
He didn't want to touch her. In prison, Bane had taken pity on this woman who had no chance of surviving alone. And being quite alone himself, they ended up getting closer.
Now they were outside, they had the opportunity to see other people, other women, and he was able to realize that he didn't want Y/N in that way.
She sometimes wondered if there were only men in the League of Shadows. Had he had lovers ? He had every right to do so. They were not married. They hadn't promised each other anything. They even thought the other was dead or lost forever.
Bane had the right to be happy. And yes, she hadn't had anyone else, not being able to forget him, but that was her problem, not his.
They could have talked about it, but Y/N was afraid of upsetting him. Or to scare him, even if the giant claimed that nothing scared him. She knew emotions were something he misunderstood. The situation wasn't so bad. At least they were together, why ruin that ?
Then Talia innocently asked her if they were a couple, while they were cooking together, Bane taking a shower. He could deny it all he wanted, there were conveniences he appreciated in the modern world.
"Hmm. We haven't talked about it. But that doesn't change the fact that we love you."
“You sound like a recently divorced mother.”
"My point is that what happened in the Pit is not necessarily what should happen here."
"Because you don't like him. Because he's disfigured and his mask scares you."
"What ? No !" Y/N shouted, a little too loudly, biting her lips hoping Bane hadn't heard her and wasn't going to come running thinking they were in danger. "It's not that. Look Talia, I love Bane, yes. I think I always will. But you have to understand that he has changed, he has a mission, he has orders and… He has the choice now."
"I don't understand."
"In the Pit… It was just me. Now… Bane is a wonderful man. Would I like him to hold me and kiss me like in our cell ? Yes, sometimes."
“I knew you were doing stuff !” sneered the little girl with a delighted look.
"But it's over. It was loneliness and isolation. He can't force himself to be close to me if he doesn't want to, okay ? Don't ask him to do that, even to please you. You know he never says no to you.”
"… You're a bit stupid, Y/N. But I love you anyway."
Y/N wondered if Talia had spoken to Bane when evening came, and he placed his hand on hers once she was in bed beside him. He had never done this before.
Shyly, she wished him good night, turning off the light and not moving, concentrating on this hand, which she had dreamed of for months.
Was he waiting for her to say something ? Or was it a way of apologizing, of telling her that he couldn't give her more ? Their little girl was a clever and sometimes cruel being. Y/N couldn’t stay like this.
“You don’t have to, you know.” she whispered without daring to turn towards him.
"I know."
"You'll always be welcome, no matter what. I love Talia. I… I don't need you to give me anything."
“I too would like to kiss you like before.”
She couldn't help but turn to him. In the darkness, she could make out his elongated silhouette and his mask. He was always wearing it, his breathing making a strange noise.
Without giving details, he explained to her that he could survive without the mask, but that it made him suffer, and that his face was really not a pretty sight. If he were to look like a monster, it might as well command respect rather than disgust, and he wouldn't feel like he was dying every second.
If she had asked him, he would have shown her. Y/N wouldn’t have needed to insist. He refused almost nothing to her either.
Bane made a strange noise, like a moan of both pain and relief, as she caressed his face. It was now obvious that he hadn't been touched like this in a long time. Actually, not since their forced separation.
“You heard our conversation.”
"The walls are thin. You speak loudly."
"You do not scare me."
"I wondered at the beginning, if you were acting out of habit or out of constraint. If you feared my reaction. But I know you, Habibi. My sweet Habibi. You were not afraid, and I felt that you wanted more. I don't understand why. I don't understand either how you can think that I would want anyone else. There's only you in the world. I only want you."
He groaned again as he felt the kiss she placed on his forehead, then near his eye. Despite his training, she felt that he was trembling, unable to keep his calm perfectly.
He remained still as she continued, now glued to him, her hands on his chest, placing kisses on all accessible parts.
“You’re torturing me, Habibi.”
"You're the one torturing me. Touch me."
"… I have no right. To touch such a beautiful and fragile creature. I don't want to hurt you."
"Bane. Touch me."
A childish laugh, in addition to the rays of the sun, was what woke Y/N. Opening her eyes painfully, she could see Talia smiling like the cat in Wonderland, very happy at the scene before her.
For his part, Bane seemed to have been awake for a long time, still lying down, not moving to let Y/N rest after this lively night, a protective arm around her.
“I told you to be quieter. You know how to be quiet, I taught you.” he sighed, as the girl continued to giggle.
"I'm hungry."
“Do you need me to get you a bowl of cereal ?”
“I want pancakes.”
"… I'm coming."
“Y/N makes them better.”
"She needs to rest. Go back to sleep, Habibi." he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, his way of kissing her.
Although she could have admired the giant burning the pancakes under Talia's half-serious criticism, Y/N's body was indeed a little sore, and she hugged her pillow, telling herself that she had no never really been a single mother, but simply with a man who was as reserved as he was clumsy. Her sweet giant.
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tactical-jellyfish · 2 months ago
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For Joanna (pt. 2/3)
Warnings: Nikolai is still a depressed bisexual man, google-translated Russian because I am writing this after two exams, in other news, reader finally figures out what feelings are and why they keep experiencing the pesky buggers. In other news, my hand is hurty and currently in a brace, but I refuse to fully rest it, so I'm writing anyway, but there might be minor spelling errors as my usual typing speed and rhythm is very much off.
Having a friend is... a new experience that you really happen to like.
Nikolai doesn't hang out often, but he's on the same wave as you when he is. Drinking slow and chatting, sometimes taking turns poking at the other's music taste because really, Nik? What is that shit? It's not "rock", I'll tell you that.
It's new, yes but... easy, so you let him closer than anyone else. When he brings his crackers, you bring your own snack in turn, an old favorite from the only corner store in your hometown that carried the brand, it used to be something you only ate with family, only on holidays. Now, you share it with Nikolai. And it's–it's not bad, not at all.
You'll admit, you're getting used to him. You like having him in the shop now, quiet or not.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ So, it turns out, you are far too stupid to know how to have a friend, even months into befriending your favorite pilot.
Granted, you've never been... the brightest, when it comes to social matters. And you know that, you accept it. But that doesn't make it any easier when another joke you had tried to give the Russian at your side in jest makes him pull back again, makes those pretty brown eyes point toward his glass instead. Calling it a glass is charitable, that thing is dirt cheap and made of plastic, your idiot brain adds, in some vain hope to not think about the fact that you seemingly bruised your best friend's feelings with the playful barb (Yes, Nikolai was your closest friend as of right now. No, you wouldn't be saying that aloud if you could help it).
You really didn't know why it seemed to make Nikolai recoil so hard so fast, to you it had just been a simple joke, because god, that English guy with the beard sure did talk nice about you, huh, Nik? I wonder about that sometimes. And seemingly, that had been squarely the wrong thing. So, you did the very best you could to backtrack when you saw him put his hands on his knees, almost dropping the glass in your hands as you race to meet him as he stands.
Maybe he doesn't see the panic in your wide eyes, maybe he chooses to ignore it because you've seemingly done so wrong by him that he'll just leave forever and never talk to you again, and- "мне пора идти, пока." You, admittedly, haven't picked up very much of his language yet, but you know that last part means goodbye and some part of your brain simply cannot let that happen. Nikolai doesn't say his goodbyes like this, he pats you on the shoulder and smiles, sometimes winks as he closes the door behind him.
His face is flat. It scares you.
So, you being the fool you are, grab his arm like he owes you money, take the cracked leather of his jacket into your hands, feel the dry texture because he forgot to take care of this one (it had since become his de-facto flying jacket) and hold. "Wait, Nik, please, whatever I said, I didn't mean to, just-"
You are not a person who sounds desperate. You are independent and you are a sharp bastard. So why are you stand here like a kid on their first day of school, desperately clinging onto your only lifeline to the outside world? You were supposed to like being a hermit, you've been fine for years now.
Nikolai seems to see this, and, despite his better interests, he pauses before he talks. Still flat, like he's barking out an order. "Do not speak of that. Not of John, and not like that." Ice water replaces every last cell of blood in your veins. What did you do? How did you get Nikolai to flip from being the single friendliest person (at least, an asshole like you) to the icy, distant tone that you knew you deserved?
You'll never say that you deflate under his pinning stare, but you know you did, to some extant, mentally riffling through every memory you had of the captain and all he said of the pilot. Nothing.
At least, nothing that would imply Nikolai was this willing to seemingly entirely cut ties with you because you had tried to make light of it.
Your brain never catches what's going on around you when you think like that. It doesn't catch the way he sighs or the slight remorse in his eyes at shutting off so hard, seemingly sending you into a tailspin. черт возьми, right. The Russian scolds himself for that in his mind. The mechanic is not often socialized. He takes a minute to stand, watch the emotions play across your face. Can't hide a thing. The touch of a callused hand pulls you from your thoughts for long enough to look back at him, and then at the big hand on your shoulder.
"Apologies. I have neglected to inform you of something personal to me."
To your shock, you aren't socked in the jaw, but rather, gently herded back into your (garbage) lawn chair (in the garage) and then Nikolai is before you, and he tells you a long, long story.
Of being young and in the military, before he branched off and did his own thing. Of falling head over ass for squarely the wrong person. Not because he had been bad, but because John was a man who knew his own values, and didn't make exceptions.
By the time the solemn tangent is finally concluded, you feel like hot garbage. In some part, because your friend is suffering under the weight of early-twenties feelings at least a decade later, but mostly because you dug that hurt back up. Unknowingly, yes, but you reminded Nik of love that wouldn't ever be given to him.
You've never been the sort to handle words. This whole incident proves that, so, instead, you reach out slowly. It isn't often you hug people, even less often you do it without them explicitly asking, but Nikolai seems to like hugs. You give him more than enough time to back out anyway.
He doesn't.
Instead, for a length of time that is between you two and the higher being (or lack thereof) of your choice. You hold each other in the shop.
"I'm sorry. I wouldn't have ever said it if I had known, I don't want to hurt you, Nik, I just-"
You're choking on words and apologies, some needy, selfish-feeling plea to just hold on to your friend, keep him around and not upset with you.
"I understand. Simple mistakes, yes?"
It's a heavenly mercy that is extended to you in that moment, Nikolai holding you by the shoulders just to pull back enough to smile at you, cheeks rounded and eyes crinkling at the corners, warming the lovely dried-mud color you'd grown attached to.
"Yeah, simple mistakes." Your voice contrasts his, a bit more shaky, still unsteady as you pull your mind back together.
In the silence, momentary and short, you decide there is one more than that much be said. You blurt it out before you can do any better thinking on it.
"You're a friend to me, Nikolai. A good one."
There's a soft chuckle, and a hand tenderly splaying over the small of your back as you're pulled close, flush to the warm oil-and-engine smell that always seems to hang on Nikolai more than you, despite this being your literal job.
His voice is warm again, you can feel his smile even if you can't see it.
"You are a friend too, механик. Very good."
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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago
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𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨 - 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝
pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader
series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.
word count: 2k
chapter summary: if you were wondering how Joel took his spicy picture for Asha, this is how.
warnings: male masturbation, use of a mirror, nipple play, spitting, very explicit, a tad bit of joel putting himself down, you're not there physically but you're definitely there in spirit, brief thoughts of rimming, lil bit of self ass play
a/n: this is a little gift for all of you guys who love SIB, and it's also an apology because it looks like I won't be able to get the new chapter out this week but believe me, I'm working on it 🧡 This takes place between chapters four and five, if you don't mind getting spoiled feel free to read. and yes those are pedro's hands in the moodboard jfc look at those veins
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“Do you like it?” 
Joel looks down, a bit shocked, but not unpleasantly. Between his fingers, he holds a photo of Asha, naked as the day she was born. Her lean hand covers her sex, leaving it to his imagination and her breasts were glistening—he presumes she used an ointment of some kind— and her nipples were hard, indicating that she played with herself before taking the picture. 
His cock twitches and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat. 
“ ‘Course I do,” he groans, shifting on the bed. “And you want me to take one too?” 
“If you don’t mind.” 
“I don’t but I ain’t as pretty as you are.” 
With a grin, Asha traces a hand above the expense of his bare chest, the tips of her fingers dipping over his sternum. 
“You’re prettier than you think.” 
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Joel stares at the window, his jaw tight and fingers tense around the small shot glass that he holds. A breeze comes through the window and rustles the curtains. He can hear crickets. With a deep sigh, he throws back his head and swallows the amber fluid. It burns as it goes down. 
He closes the windows, then the curtains. He’s hoping the liquid courage would take its effect soon. The bottom of the glass hits the bedside table and he falls to the bed, staring begrudgingly at the camera. He decided to place the tripod right in front of the mirror, which now he realizes wasn’t a good idea. He’s not that thrilled in seeing himself being so unsure. He drags his palm down his face, eyes falling to the drawer where Asha’s picture lays. He’s still not sure why she asked for it—well, he knows why, he just doesn’t understand why him. 
Joel’s aware he’s not the worst looking out here, he’s definitely caught your gaze once or twice lingering on him whenever he’s out fixing the truck. And Asha surely seems to be infatuated with him. But that had only happened now. Not when he was young. Not when he was attending high school and working full shifts to take care of Tommy. And when people did approach him, it was mostly to get closer to The Tommy Miller—his younger brother was always the one with the charm and charisma. 
Suddenly Joel’s heart feels lighter, hints of joy warming his chest. Asha wants that picture. She wants to see him, wants to keep him close.
Licking his lips, he walks up to the camera and adjusts the timer. His mind wanders to the moment he shared with you at the bar. He’d acted impulsively, kissing your cheek like that. The only thing granting him relief was the fact that it seemed nothing more but a friendly gesture from the outside. 
It sure as hell hadn’t felt friendly from the inside. It felt more than that. 
Before pressing the shutter, he sits back down on the bed. The old furniture creaking with protest. He peels off his shirt, throws it to the floor. He thinks about what kind of pose to do, and about how naked he should be. He’s not that comfortable showing his dick. He’s not that comfortable showing his face either—so what the hell is he supposed to do? 
He cups his cock and rubs his palm through the denim. An immediate burst of heat rolls up his spine, his dick twitching with need. He breathes out a soft exhale and repeats the movement. Grinding his palm against his growing erection. 
Oh, that definitely feels nice. 
A smile tugs at his lips and his pulse quickens. Without much thought, he swipes his thumb over a nipple. A hiss elevates from the back of his throat, his hips stuttering into the air. With a sudden desperation, he unbuckles his belt and cheats his hand down his jeans. He’s rough with himself. Grabbing his cock and tugging at the head until he’s hard and dripping. Joel sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, the pain also adding to the heat growing between his legs. 
“This should be good,” he murmurs, walking back up to the camera. He clicks the shuffle and stumbles back, he tries to strike something similar to a pose. He stretches a bit, sucks in his stomach, and decides to leave his hand lingering down his pants. 
His chest heaves, but he’s excited when he hears the click. He’s genuinely surprised at how aroused he is, thick drops of precum heavy over his knuckles. 
Joel had never considered himself to be a kinky person. As far as he knew, he was into the same things as most guys his age. But maybe he had more going on in this thick noggin of his than he thought. 
Joel definitely doesn’t mind the camera now. 
The picture pops out and he yanks it away from the device. He wags it in the air a bit, a form of a body slowly appearing on glossy paper. He takes a good look at himself. Half of his face is out of frame, which pleases him. There’s a slight blur to the background that he kinda likes. Thanks to the way his hand is hidden underneath the front of his jeans, his forearm looks quite nice and strong. 
With a pleased smile, he places it between the pages of a magazine. Then he allows himself to fall back to the bed, his legs hanging off the side. Joel grunts as he kicks off his jeans, not wanting to feel restricted anymore. It’s not often he’s alone in the house. He plans on taking advantage of it. 
He pulls a pillow down to where his head is, getting comfortable, he glances at himself through the mirror. A flush darkens his cheeks. He never watched himself before. Never saw the faces he makes. Some part of him wants to ignore the sudden interest and just take care of his…situation, but the other part of him wants to experiment. It almost feels like someone is watching him. 
He remembers seeing a mirror in your house. Have you ever indulged in this way? Get naked in front of the mirror and fuck yourself with a toy that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as his cock could be? 
I’m fucking losing it, he thinks. But he can’t stop thinking about it now. 
Joel's hand moves down to his cock, his fingertips brushing over the sensitive head. His breathing becomes shallow as he starts to stroke himself, the soft moans escaping his lips filling the quiet room. He closes his eyes and imagines you there with him, your fingers tracing along his body, your lips pressing against his skin. 
His fingers trail down his chest, gliding over the curves of his nipples, each touch sends a shiver, his tighs going taut and stiff. His eyes flicker to the mirror, he catches a glimpse of himself - naked, a flush of pink creeping up from his chest to his neck.
He hesitates, wondering what he's doing, and why he's doing it. But then he remembers you, the way you looked at him at the bar, the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, the way you leaned in close when you spoke. Your scent; a sharp inhale of blooming flowers mixed with the suffocating scent of the paint that you use. You’re a ghostly presence, something that’s always with him, but not in the way that he wants. 
Joel squeezes his cock and moves up his hand, swiping the head with the flat of his palm. He wants everything to be wet, messy, and tight. With a sudden impulse, he pushes his upper body off the bed and goes to spit on his cock. A soft tremor burrows in his stomach. A rather indulgent moan coming alive in the back of his throat. 
Pursing his lips, he spits again, the wetness instantly being spread out with his hand. He watches the way his cock glistens through the mirror. Joel wants to believe it’s your slick instead, making him warm and wet. You’d be so eager to take him, so needy for him to fuck you. His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek. He’d make you beg a bit for it first. Joel would want to hear your voice getting high and squeaky, but he wouldn’t let the game go on for too long. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s not appreciative of you and your perfect pussy. 
His strokes speed up, wet sounds getting louder. Joel allows his imagination to run wild. A string of sultry images flashes in his mind. 
You, on your knees, struggling to take his cock down your throat. 
You, bent over, asscheeks spread, begging him to fill you up. 
You, asking for him to fuck you harder, faster. 
And him, eager to follow every command. 
Fuck, and you’d look so good too. Moaning his name, soaking his cock and fingers. He licks his lips, imagining how you would taste like. Something sweet, he bets, sweet and maybe a bit bitter. Just like you. 
Jerking himself, a visceral whine crawls out of his throat. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment and he swears he can feel you. Your weight, your heat—all of it crashing down on him and bringing him near the peak. He loosens his grip, traces the throbbing vein that curls around his cock with the blunt of his nail. With a shallow breath, he slips his fingers lower.
Joel’s mouth floods when he cups his balls, rolling them in his palm, he gives them a gentle tug. The coil in his stomach tightens, a tremble overwhelming him. With his tongue between his lips, his fingers brush the skin right underneath. His eyes snap wide open, liquid, molten, lava-like pleasure boils his veins—he gasps and his hips stutter into the air, his dick painfully hard, drips over his stomach. 
His hand dips further down his legs. Very gently, Joel circles the puckered hole with the pad of his middle finger but doesn’t dare to go further. He never has. This is as far as he’s gone, discovering that the little tease was enough to get him riled up at a young age. He imagines your tongue teasing over the hole instead of his finger. 
“Fuck.” 
His own voice sounds estranged to him. It sounds so deep, and raspy. Like he’s been sick for days. A shudder overwhelms him when he wraps his calloused fingers around his cock once more. He’s so fucking close. His breathing comes in short, shallow pants, the head of his cock a dark red. He fuck himself into his fist harder, faster, tightens the gap, thinking that it’s you. 
His eyes move back to the mirror, his other hand teasing at his nipples, pulling and twisting them until he moans out loud. The sight of himself, of his own arousal, is a heady aphrodisiac. He’s wrecked. It never felt this good before. There’s a buzz in his veins, an itch that can’t be scratched. His cock is drooling all over himself. His breath catches in his throat—He’s about to—shitshitshit—
Joel fixes his gaze on his reflection; he looks so out of it, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess and eyes glazed over. Fuck, he’s starting to understand now what Asha meant by calling him pretty. 
A long whine leaves his lips as the first string of pearly white cum splashes over his stomach. It’s followed by another one, and then another. His eyes roll back into his skull. He feels it on his chest, stomach, knuckles….a growl rattles in his chest. Pleasure rakes his body from his toes to his head. He strokes himself harder, loosening and tightening his grip around his cock to mimic the feel of your fluttering cunt might be. Joel’s eyes flutter closed, heavy pants leaving his lips. He feels dizzy, disoriented. 
When he opens his eyes again, he smooths his hand over his stomach, spreading the stickiness all over his sweaty skin. He cheats another glance at the mirror. 
God, he wishes you were here to clean him up.
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I hope you guys enjoyed this little interlude ♡ I do realize that some parts of this might be a bit out of character for Joel but I just love thinking of him as someone who always wanted to experiment more but just never had a chance to do so, a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. He's just looking for that person he can trust to have some fun with 🤭 I also think of him being a bit self coincidence which we will be seeing more of in the future.
Wishing everyone an amazing weekend, new chapter will be coming soon!
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