#and you decide to pick it up and do something new with it in two days two years later
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itsabouttimex2 · 3 days ago
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Eclipse Kings
Part Three: Wild Dawn
(Part One: Mountain Monkeys) (Part Two: Barbed Dusk) (Part Three: You Are Here)
(Extra One)
For almost all his life, Sun Wukong had never really known “want”, not for more than the few moments it took to decide he was going to pursue some fleeting and new desire.
The land itself seemed to conspire to his favor- he was borne to a thriving mountain of surplus and luxury, sparkling stream racing down each hill, bountiful orchards with boughs so heavy they dipper near to the earth. Even the horizon was generous, spanning sunrises to color his every lavish breakfast and hosting a banner of glittering stars to lull him to sleep.
He wanted for nothing, because when the world would not bend to his whims, he simply bent it himself- to the end result of power, luxury, and adoration.
His life was fraught with the inevitable turning of blades, stuffed full of motion, conflict, and inevitable triumph. His troop grew by the year, Flower Fruit Mountain knew nothing of suffering, and his treasury was brimming with relics.
A demon crowned eternal king of a flourishing mountain, untouchable and immovable.
What more could a monkey want?
Company, as it turned out. The varied little simians scattered all through the trees and bushes of his mountain were wonderful, of course- he cherished them all like his own children, and doted on each and every one of the little menaces.
But he still wanted more.
—-——————————————————————
“That, little mortal, is when I joined my Sworn Brotherhood!”
The Great Sage Equal to Heaven smiles warmly at his recited memories, claws lightly sifting through a large collection of traditional clothing.
“We were going to lead a siege on that stuck-up realm of Celestials, but my darling moonbeam had an even better idea- why not start our own kingdoms? Instead of teaching those stuffy old fools how to respect us, we could just show them up and take all their little worshipping mortals away!”
You don’t say a word in turn, still bundled up in a fluffy towel, sitting on the nearest chair, idly watching through blank eyes. Since you hadn’t been willing to walk or respond, Wukong had scooped you up with a sigh and hurried off to his and Macaque’s shared changing room, given permission to pick out some old clothes of theirs to give you.
“Of course, all of the stuff that was supposed to be boring was, uh… a total mess. Y’know, like deciding on territories, drawing borders, figuring out taxes—ugh. Mortals do not like taxes. Sure like ‘em better than being eaten by demons, though.” He chuckles at his own words, shaking his head as if to dismiss the unpleasant memories of bureaucracy. Wukong pulls out a black ceremonial robe embroidered with purple thread and holds it up against you, squinting as if he’s considering how it might look.
“…no. My sweet moon wouldn’t like you wearing this.”
“…s’it “too nice” for me?”
“…you mortals really aren’t the best with self-esteem, are you? No, little villager- it’s because he wore something like this when we were married. After that, he started commissioning seamstresses to make him more clothes like that robe… the actual thing is framed in a glass box over our bed. I don’t understand why Mac wanted that, but I can’t ever say no to him…”
Wukong’s voice trails off, tone softening as his gaze drifted to the ceiling. A smile plays on his lips, barely restrained, as he’s replaying his dearest memory of Macaque on repeat. You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond, the weight of his affection for his moonlit partner pressing against the silence.
He breaks it himself, but only after walking across the room and popping open lacquered wood chest, breaking the preserving sigil printed across it .
“You know,” says the king, his claws tapping the gleaming pauldron of gold within, “I wore this when we got married.”
He turns to the side, catches the fact that you’ve perked up even a little, and continues.
“It was the nicest thing I owned at the time- most of my outfits were skinned animals and stolen rags. This is something my brothers had given me, so it was the nicest thing I had that wasn’t my staff.”
Wukong’s fingers linger on the golden armor, tone rich with an ancient nostalgia. “I wasn’t one for fancy clothes back then- still coming around to it now- but I was even worse with it back then. I wanted to go in my tiger skirt and my old boots! But my brothers? Oh, they insisted: “You’re getting married- you can’t just show up looking like a bandit on your wedding day!” So they gave me this, and a nice red robe with a ton of silly characters embroidered into it- it’s framed right next to my mate’s robe, now.”
Say something. You need to say something. You can’t just mumble and mutter if you want to stay in a king’s good graces, can you?
“…do you… remember your vows?”
He perks with a smile, intrigued by the random question, entirely missing how dangerously close you are to cracking.
“Well, if that’s want you want to know, how about I tell you about the whole ceremony? Here, I’ll lay out how it went…”
——————————————————————
Macaque shuffles in place for a moment, old meekness returning to him- his hands twitch, and the notes smoothly inked onto the sleeve of his silk robe catch in the light, drawing his aureate eyes downwards. The crowd all around is nervous mortals and drunk demons, dressed in red or black or gold, held at peace mostly by his eager “brothers”. On Azure’s lap and shoulders are several children, more interested in his blade and snout than the ceremony. He’s smiling, more at ease than any other here.
The others for the most part are doing alright. Peng is preoccupied with their drink, casually allowing themselves to be marveled at by a blacksmith and a jeweler- though neither are allowed to touch, both mortals are fervently etching the gilded designs into their paper scrolls. The avian flaps those glimmering wings on occasion, causing streaks of light to flash over the modest venue, catching across the polished tiles.
Yellowtusk sits on a carved stone chair, marking the attendants in a neat ledger, made oversized to fit his hands. Several troops of Long-Tailed and Crab-Eating Macaques play on his trunk and tusks, their little fingers deftly taking hold in the cracks of his thick skin to ascend it. They don’t ever distract him for more than a few seconds, even when the youngest cubs forget their manners and start chirping in his ears.
The largest of their Brotherhood stands at attention in the doorway, toying with the straps of his battle axe. His face is painted with a rarely seen apprehension, looking back and forth over the room on occasion. Sometimes his gaze stills on a veil-shrouded woman with painted lips, and then he smiles for a moment.
The Demon Bull King is not nearly as subtle of a man as he thinks.
Not that it matters- when, for all that (which is very much) his Sworn Brothers know he’s courting a Celestial Maiden, they’ve chosen to keep an oath of silence on the matter.
(“He’s our big guy,” as Wukong had put it during one meeting months ago. “And we want that goofball to be happy.”)
(All of them- even Peng- had toasted to that notion, in the general direction of the bull’s empty chair.)
The mortals are safe. His brothers are content. He can do this.
Once more the dried notes on his sleeve catch Macaque’s attention, snapping him from the venue and to his golden love.
One last time he goes over them, dedicating those practiced words to memory.
He takes a breath, and turns to the audience.
“My mate-to-be is… molten gold, kissed by the rising sun. Beautiful is a shallow word to describe him- he is a masterpiece, a divine work of art carved by the heavens themselves. His eyes hold the all the world’s fire within them, blazing with the brilliance of a thousand sunsets. His laughter is a hymn to freedom itself, a melody I pray to hear every day for the rest of my life. When I look at him, I don’t just see a king, but the very heart of my existence, the axis upon which my world turns. He is my sun, my storm, my sanctuary, my everything.”
Several of the softer mortals are touched by his speech, lifting their cotton sleeves to the very corners of their eyes. Others only lightly clap, still uncomfortable at being called to the union.
Macaque does not have time to look away from before Wukong’s ginger-furred paws clasp onto his shoulders, holding tight.
There are no notes, no hours of reciting, no time spent with helpful Sworn Brothers to listen and offer advice, no matter how snarky- Sun Wukong simply turns from the crowd and offers himself.
“Macaque… I love you. I want you to be my mate forever. Until the sun goes dark.” Wukong's tail flicks behind him, expression softening with a rare blush. "Because... you're part of my story, bud. You’ve always been a part of it. And I'm tired of pretending like I can write the rest of it without you. Be mine forever and let’s be mates.”
The world is blurry, at least to Macaque. Nine and a half seconds prior he had thought there’d be some disappointment to push through, delivered an insincere joke or a vow written by another’s hand.
But there was only been Sun Wukong, love of his life, smiling at him.
“I will be your mate,” he chokes out, “forever. Until the sun goes dark.”
——————————————————————
“We’ve never been apart since then,” he purrs, dragging one claw over a hanfu the color of a sky on a gentle morning, toying with the white sash to untie it. “Not even for a day.”
Before you have a chance to respond, he plucks up the garment and holds it out to you. The size difference between him and the outfit is comical, and you wonder why these two demon kings have it in the first place.
“This should fit you, bud! Here, let’s get that towel off-“
You scream.
It’s not particularly loud or long, or even desperate- but it’s a scream all the same.
Worse still for yourself, you take this hysteric moment to lay on some shaky remand.
“NO! No more! Just stop touching me! I don’t- I d-don’t like it! You’re- you’re twice my size and you keep- you and him are always getting in my face and- a-and putting your hands on me, and I- I’m am so, so sick of it! I am not an o-object! I am a person! I am a person! I-“
“Quiet. Now.”
Wukong’s golden eyes narrow as he stands there, the weight of his presence pressing down on the room like a thundercloud ready to burst. His tail flicks sharply, but his voice remains measured.
…there are tears rolling down your eyes now, lost in the fluffy expanse of the towel around your body, sopping uselessly away as the king takes two footsteps to your form, frowning.
Not that it does anything to settle the rapid beat of your heart, crushed by the newly oppressive atmosphere.
“…you’re scared. I understand that. And maybe my moonbeam and I, we’ve been a little too hands on. That’s on us. But this my pagoda, and I did not build it by hand so that a little guest could yell at me. You know that you’re not a prisoner here. The doors aren’t locked, and there aren’t guards stationed outside them… now. I’ll let you get dressed- alone- and then you can eat. And…
“And no more touching without your permission. Okay?”
“…m’sorry. F-for yelling.”
“…I’m not mad,” he lies, one hand shifting to condescendingly pat you on the head. “I forget- my brothers, and my mate, too- we yaoguai just aren’t the same as mortals. You little things are scared too easily, and break so quickly.”
Something about hearing that is humiliating, but you don’t dare argue with him. Instead, you hunch your shoulders and cling to the towel, sniveling down at the floor.
Wukong’s frown softens the longer he watches you cry, all the sharpest edges of his irritation melting away into something closer to pity.
“I’ll leave it here. Call if you get lost looking for the kitchen.”
His words are painfully curt, and then the king is gone, golden beads and silk robes swishing behind him with each step.
You were never close, and only ever tangentially in the “good graces” of these kings. It’s not like you’ve shattered some precious bond.
But you still feel bad.
You wouldn’t, not usually. But as you unwrap the towel and begin to dress yourself in the lovely hanfu left draped over the chair nearest to you, the aches and pains of yesterday’s chase down the mountain weigh on you, just as MK’s new identity and newer happiness strike a deep point of insecurity- that you simply weren’t good enough to take care of him.
You weren’t good enough to provide for him anymore.
You wanted to believe you were more than them- strong enough to survive on your own, to fight your way through the world with MK in tow. But the truth was harder to face: Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque were meteoric gods, and you were just a mortal caught in the tides of their myth.
And where MK was thriving in this ecliptic chaos, you instead were already cracking under pressure after only a day spent before the kings.
…there’s a lovely silk pouch, dyed the color of new lavender blooms, hanging from the hanfu- you only notice it after tying the sash into a decent bow. The soft texture grounds your tumultuous thoughts, and a powerful aroma steadily drifts from within.
You fiddle with the tie and open the sash, revealing a dried bundle of orange blossoms tightly tied together, each stem marked with a glittering mystic sigil- 提高.
Whatever scent they would’ve had already was amplified by the marking, causing a heavy flow of fresh floral scent to ooze from the little purse.
You lift it and take a deep breath from the bag, allowing the veil of citrus aroma to utterly cloud your mind, providing it a much needed fog to rest under.
The soothing haze is slow to fade, even after you’ve pulled away and sealed the bag, but eventually you are left with only your steadied thoughts in the ornate chamber, amongst fine silks and polished wood, treasures of centuries past hung casually about It’s beautiful—almost too much so.
A reminder that this world of theirs is not the same of yours.
But you would not stop trying to survive in it.
You couldn’t.
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vroom--vrooming · 3 days ago
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F1 drivers building a library for their girlfriend
Charles Leclerc
You know he is committed and absolutely in love with you when you come home to find the little storage room completely renovated and turned into a cozy library. Floor to ceiling book shelves, a cozy chair in the corner, all your favorite books and even new ones, some are signed as well. Charles picked the color and the little comforting decor, maybe even painted the walls himself. Imagine that smile on his face when he shows you the room
Max Verstappen
You two have been living together for a couple of months now and Max just wants you to have something that's just completely yours, because it's his house and he wants to do everything to make it your home. He hired the best interior designer and gave a long list of what you like. The library is one of your many birthday presents from Max. It was a surprise after you two came back from your birthday trip. The room is your Pinterest board coming to life. Soon Max also started spending time there, calling it his comfort place with his comfort person.
Lando Norris
Let's just say this guy ruined one of your favorite books when you were not there and he panicked. As an apology he decided to build you a little reading nook but got carried away and ended up designing a mini library for you. He also replaced the book because he didn't want to take any chances. You can tell he designed everything because everything just screams LN4, yes there is one of his helmets in the library. Your tears of joy even made him cry
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clairedaring · 20 hours ago
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brief points from spare me your mercy press con interviews
disclaimer: with VERY limited thai comprehension skills and auto subs, here are the few points i picked up from two torjj interviews (one with director wo and screenwriter lux, one without them). if any kind fans would like to fansub interesting bits from the interview, i'd love to be tagged in (boop @recentadultburnout)
1. The TorJJ interview with Wo and Lux
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it took them FIVE years to find the right cast for spare me your mercy. they bought the rights to the novel 5 years ago.
screenwriter lux says that it's less a matter of finding talented actors with capability to play the roles but rather finding the people with the right age, ability, same attitude, same passion to tell the story of euthanasia because it's a sensitive subject matter
director wo compliments saying that he met a lot of talented actors but it's by chance that they were able to get tor and jj who share the same passion in telling the story
tor jokes that it's not easy to get a compliment from director wo like that. tor says that the subject matter is what pulled him into doing this project and that if he's decided to do something, he's fully committed to it.
jj says he feels the same and hope that everyone follows the story because not just his and tor's characters but everyone else is great
tor says he had to do homework for his character too since dr. kan is not like the doctor we usually see at the hospital, but one that specialises in treating terminally ill patients.
jj says that he was nervouse since it's his first time working with screenwriter lux and director wo, first time leading a one31 original. he wants everyone to follow the story since his character wasan will face a lot of problems in the story.
jj says everyone already know his first work with tor is in family we trust and at the time they were still getting to know each other so there's a bit of tuning and adjusting to each other but coming into this work (spare me your mercy), it just flows and is already easy for him when paired up with tor since the chemistry comes easily.
(on the subject of a very experienced supporting cast ) director wo says it's like he didn't have to direct at all because it's really easy to work with these experienced older actors. he doesn't want to spoil anything but the supporting actors are really good.
screenwriter lux says that since the story being told is quite complex, it was established from the beginning that they would cast actors who have the capability of delivering difficult performances, even if they're not main roles
2. The TorJJ only interview
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jj says the first challenge is that smym is a series that follows an ongoing investigation so it'll be interesting for viewers to follow what's going on with each timeline and each case
for tor it's the fact that its neo? suspense genre. at first he thought it wouldn't be that difficult but he's grateful to learn a lot from elder doctors for his role. so it's a new experience.
when asked about his character being the one taking care of terminally ill patients, tor says he thinks that's the secondary story because the main story is the suspense (investigation). tor thinks the beats of the suspense genre is hard for his style of acting
but you've done dramas like this before? tor says but he doesn't really encounter suspense (genre) very often. for suspense genre, it's like you know it in your heart but you can't say it at all (i'm guessing he's talking about his character). it's verrrry difficult for me.
jj jokes that it's because tor met him (re: tor got jj as a partner for this drama) that tor's good at it. "i'm just joking joking joking"
from tor perspective, dr. kan is a doctor that we don't get to meet very often, even for tor himself, he's also getting to know this character as he took on the role of dr. kan -> proceeds to talk about how his character doesn't really treat/cure patients but is more like a partner with them until they end their life peacefully
tor did a lot of research for this role, with real palliative doctors but he has to admit that even with his research he does draw a line and he can't interfere to research real terminally ill patients because it will involve with their family as well. so he did as much research as he could but to see things that will disturb the privacy of real families, he can't do that
tor says he can only make assumptions from what he's researched and he accepts criticism if ppl say "you can't understand fully like that", he admits he can't bc he can only do so much research without affecting real life people.
jj says that it's difficult for him as well (in the role of police officer) because when entering crime scene, there's a lot of details. and the timelines for the series is a bit confusing (maybe he's talking about non-linear narrative?). so wasan may not be done with one case yet we're already jumping into another plotline (ah maybe he's talking about there being many different ongoing plot threads) which makes it interesting to follow along
for jj's character, he says it's not difficult like tor's character because his character is a detective who doesn't have things to hide so the approach to their respective characters is not the same
jj says it's not just enough that each characters have their own self-conflicts but there's also conflicts between them as a couple.
who's the one playing with the other's heart? tor says "if you think jj's character or mine is playing with the other's heart then you're WRONG"
so no one is playing with the other's heart? no one is fooling the other? no one is using love to trick the other? tor "no, love isn't something to be played with. BUT… EVERYONE in this story will be playing/tricking on each other. everyone is playing the everyone else's heart in this series"
tor "you will be able to see it from the first episode, that our identities (he's probably referring to their sexualities?????) are already told/being shown"
jj "let's talk about the first scene, when we first met. i think everyone will be able to tell that there's "something" going on" 🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈????? "i hope everyone will follow the series, because if i reveal it then you won't be excited for it"
"oooh you're playing a couple. how do you level up?" jj jokes "are you excited? 😏i'm excited too ☺"
tor "this one i can spoil for you. the chemistry in our relationship will develop naturally and smoothly. very normally, very smoothly. i believe that if the actors could feel [the chemistry] the audience who watch it will be able to feel it as well"
"how complex/confusing is the series?" tor says "oooh do i have to count/quantify that? hmm, if you ask me if it's confusing or not, i'd say that it's not confusing but it's the overlapping events/plot threads that makes it confusing"
is there pressure to work/act in this? (i'm guessing the interviewer is implying abt starring in a bl series 🙄) jj says not much pressure on the acting aspect because they can communicate and it's easy between the two of them because they're already close with each other
are you prepared to face what will come next like the sns discussions or questions about this subject matter "euthanasia?" tor feels like they don't have to prepare for it because even though it is a sensitive subject, the series doesn't point to what's wrong/right idea about euthanasia. if you look more closely, it's more like a series that presents clashing beliefs on the subject matter of "euthanasia" to stimulate this discussion/debate in society. we can't control what ppl say on sns but what we're clear about is that the series does not intend to "teach" anyone anything. it's not like we're forcing ppl to debate this question. if you finish the series and have questions, then we can discuss. if you finish the series and just enjoy it for the investigation/ whodunit story, that's good as well.
jj was happy that the series was filmed in his hometown chiang mai and praises the production team for being very professional, arranging travelling and staying very convenient and comfortable.
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howlsofbloodhounds · 1 day ago
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I need to see more content of Color matching Killer's freak, and not just in terms of suggestive themes.
Obviously he's not direct or loud about it, obviously it's not easy reading that off of a person like him, but I imagine Killer would pick up early that Color's a bit of a freak cause why the hell else would he be trying to help him so much? Freak recognizes freak. Freakception. It's just kind freak on fire vs knife freak, that's what this has become.
Color is the subtle kind of freak. There is always a 50/50 chance that if Killer's got an urge, Color's gonna indulge it and act like he always does in the process. He is a "go with the flow" kind of guy on the surface until he decides to rip off that facade. His friends already know how freakish he is to a certain extent but it's people like Killer, Epic, and Delta that truly do vibe with it in their own ways.
Killer would want more of it and look for ways to encourage Color's "dark side", Delta would compete with it, and Epic would think of any punchline to add to how hilarious he finds it.
This is a group of equally as unhinged men.
The signs of Color's freak would be evident to Killer long before he decides to take up Color's offer in leaving Nightmare behind. He would pick up those signs and use them against him, specifically during arguments or fights where Killer accuses him of having crude ulterior motives.
And Color giving him little to no reactions on that basis would not only infuriate Killer but also fascinate him even more than he already was. Cause he can't always tell whether or not a comment set something off in Color's mind, or if there really was nnothing.
And then as time continues to pass, that is when Killer's observations start to make sense. He and Color are a lot more alike than he previously thought, well beyond the "we both used to be Sans and got fucked over by the same stupid kid" commonality.
They both have deeply-rooted trauma from two of the same fucking child. While Color was eventually provided with the resources to start healing, Killer was routinely denied those resources.
Perhaps Color has one of those warped bouts of hyena-like laughter too, except while Killer has it casually, it's a red flag coming from Color as it's indicative of a panic attack, complete breakdown, or weak attempt at stress relief following either of those things.
They both struggle at showing vulnerability because of their trauma. Killer hides that in multiple shitty ways while Color has had several years of therapy and a solid support system and because of that developed a stable "fake it till you make it" mask for only the worst case scenarios where he can't catch a break soon enough. (He's had to use that mask A LOT in dealing with Killer before he left Nightmare)
Think Stage 3 doesn't have enough reasons to regard Color as a source of safety? They've both got distinct animalistic traits and behaviors, and Color dedicated the patience and time to let Stage 3 learn that at its own pace. Stage 3 finds a mutual understanding with Color that it can't with anyone else BECAUSE of the effort and comfort Color provided.
And what about the fact that they've both lost their sense of identity and since gaining freedom had to gradually make a new one with the shards they managed to salvage? They both aim to keep some aspects of "Sans", but can never truly be "Sans" again. They've both grown past the point of ever being the exact same as they were decades, perhaps hundreds of years before.
In various ways both before and after escaping their traumas, they are both in constant physical, mental, and emotional pain. Some conditions simply have no cure, no medication to soothe their symptoms.
They are so similar yet so different. So of course Color would match Killer's freak. Under calm and casual circumstances he'd agree with (Stage 2) Killer's accusation of him being a masochist and Killer would be caught off guard because he was aiming to make Color angry. But instead Color gives him that simple admission with no strings attached.
Like golly gee fuck, Killer, it's almost like he has to be one in order to cope with the amount of agony he deals with every day. Speak for yourself, motherfucker.
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Unhinged freaky old men is where it’s at.
People look at the chromatic crew and think Color’s the odd one out, that he’s the hinged one, but definitely not.
Bro probably finds it comforting and reassuring when killer licks away his tears 💀. Mans would be so willing to indulge nearly anything killer wants to try or do, and he’d likely enjoy most of it.
Need more of Color matching Killer’s freak and rolling with it. Wonder if Color ever surprises Killer sometimes.
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catghoul31 · 1 day ago
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I Just Wanted To Feed Some Ducks, For Christ's Sake
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Wade was just having a @poolverine-week Day 4: First Date with Logan, when out of nowhere, a close-minded jerkwad of a dad decides to harass them! He deals with it in typical Deadpool fashion, but accidentally reveals something about himself along the way. Will Logan still love him? Or will he hate him forever and ever and never, ever talk to him again??
(...Spoiler alert: everything was fine. Psh, I wasn't even worried!! Why'd you think I'd ever be worried...?)
Content Warnings: Homophobia and Transphobia (directed at logan and wade)
Read it under the cut, or on ao3!
This was probably the happiest Deadpool had been in about a decade… and all he was doing was throwing corn and peas at ducks at the park!! Oh, but his Logan was there, and today, that made all the difference. 
A couple days ago, they’d exchanged their first “I love you”s, kissed each other until their lips got sore, and signed marriage documents. That third one would’ve only been true if he’d taken Vanessa’s advice at face value, sure- but it was official now!! Deadpool and Wolverine were an item. No queerbaiting, no sending one partner to superhell, and not an ounce of homophobia to be found! This story would be really short, because it was honestly just an excuse for Wade to tell all you guys that he was feeding ducks with Wolvie right now. Wasn’t that an adorable thought in these trying times? He sure was glad no one was gonna ruin it, and he could just lean against him and kiss him on the cheek all cutely-
“Hey, what the hell-? You can’t be doing that around my kids!!”
FUCK.
Okay, Wade, calm down. Maybe there’s some other weirdo who decided to waltz over here naked or something, and that’s who he’s talking to? 
No- no, this guy was walking over to them- and there goes that cute little smile on Logan’s face. Why does this author keep making us deal with shit like this…? I just wanted to feed some ducks, for Christ’s sake!
“I don’t remember asking you, dickhead,” Logan grumbled lowly, and Wade would recognize that tone anywhere… That was only ever how he spoke if he was seconds away from introducing the claws to someone’s face!! He needed to humble this Karen-in-training now, before his peanut gave that guy a real reason to get them kicked out!!
The rando who thought he was the king of this public park scoffed at the show of aggression, crossing his arms. “No, listen to me!! I don’t care if you two want to be freaks in private, but I won’t have my children seeing this nonsense-“
“Nonsense?? We’re just feeding some ducks, lady!!” Wade interjected, stepping in between both the fuming, borderline rabid monster man and Logan. “I know that sounds concerning, but that bucket’s full of mixed vegetables! No white bread here, we know that’s bad for them, so I promise your kids won’t pick up any bad habits-“
“God, shut up!! You know exactly what I’m talking about- this gay shit… ” he hissed, as if ‘gay’ was a four-letter word or something, while gesturing at them as though they were some spectacle. He really could’ve picked… any of their other adventures, if spectacle was what he wanted. He was clearly new here, since Deadpool knew he’d gotten a lot fruitier than this!! But whatever- so much for no homophobia, right?
“Oh, come on!! ” Wade said, in the middle of a few barks of laughter. “ That’s the problem you have with us?? In the year of our lord 2024… I mean, I’m a fucking merc, and you’ll probably find out what’s going on with my super-friend here if you keep bugging us,” he quipped, smirking at how fucking pissed Logan looked. He’d have no problem calming him down later, if you know what I mean… ;) But he was honestly curious- what lore was behind the stick up this man’s ass?
“Please, though, tell me how me giving this little guy a little kissy-kissy affects your children, who are currently throwing handfuls of dirt at each other 200 feet away from us where they can’t possibly see us,” Wade snarked, scratching Logan’s head as said little guy continued growling threateningly at the man. “Easy now, tiger…” he soothed, to absolutely no avail.
The loving, accepting individual in front of them cringed at the exchange before them, nearly looking ready to spit on Wade. Hey, he’d gladly open his mouth for him!! “You don’t see a single problem with this?? Ignoring how fucked up whatever that guy’s doing to me is-“
“I’ll show you fucked up, you sad, bigoted waste of-“
“Hey, hey!! We’re having a civil conversation here, Logan- I am so sorry. He’s not used to new faces, but I’ve been working on socializing him-“ Wade joked again, shutting up as soon as he felt the pricks of his claws brush his hand. They had to keep it cool, blood-free and stuff, because they had to think of the kids, right??
“-I don’t want my, or any other kid, going around thinking it’s okay for two men to be treating each other like women! God, you two are sick…”
Immediately, a lightbulb went off in Wade’s head. Without thinking, he said exactly what was on his mind, because oh my god it sounded so fucking funny to him- 
“Well… how do you know I’m not a woman?”
Dead silence followed his statement. Logan wasn’t even snarling at the dude anymore, and the dude himself was looking at him like Tails did in that one MS Paint comic panel that made him crack up every time he saw it. Fucking brilliant.
“…Because you have a penis?? What kind of question is that, you freak?!” he yelled, and Wade felt Logan tense up in defense once again.
“Woah, woah- and how do you know that?? Get your mind out of my pants- and maybe yourself away from this lake, if you want to keep your… everything intact,” he said, tightening the arm he had around his honey badger as he glared daggers into this dickwad. Truthfully, he was this close to just letting him go- it’d be so funny!! Except his kids were supposedly here, so…
“Ohh my fucking-“ The male Karen- Kyle?- whoever he was- his brain was officially broken. Wade loved to see it!! “Just- get out!! Degenerates like you shouldn’t be allowed anywh- HOLY SHIT!!”
Snikt!! Oh, that was one of Wade’s Top 3 Favorite Sounds Of All Time for sure… and the full flash of claws from Logan finally had this dude running away with his nonexistent tail between his legs. “Awh, good boy!!” Wade praised, patting his back affectionately. “You showed him, didn’t you-?”
“Just… just shut up,” Logan said, though there wasn’t any anger in his voice anymore. Just exhaustion- and confusion? Oh… oh no… “Let’s just go home, okay, bub?”
Wade furrowed his brows- if they left now, it meant that guy won, didn’t it? But then he realized, once again- that “joke” about him possibly being a woman? Not nearly as much of a joke, as it turned out!! Did… Did Logan even know about stuff like this? Shit, he might’ve said too much in the heat of the moment… This could be bad.
“Yeah… yeah, peanut. Let’s go…”
An awkward silence settled over them both as they walked home. Quite unusual, since usually Wade was yapping about anything and everything whenever they’d go anywhere, even before this little date of theirs!! But he wasn’t in the mood for that- he didn’t even reach for his hand, when he’d been holding it the entire time while they were walking here. He was too anxious over what Logan must think of him now… or maybe he was worried over nothing, and Logan did really just take it as a joke? Wade really hoped that was the case…
Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks, right before they got to their apartment complex, and turned to face Wade. “Wanna tell me what that was about, bub?” he rasped, his tone just accusatory enough to have his blood pressure spiking.
“That Karen??” Wade said, hoping beyond hope that that’s what he meant. “Oh, just a dipshit in public, and you didn’t actually hurt him, so we’re probably fine-“
“No, Wade. What you said. About…” Logan shook his head, tilting his head at Wade with his brow furrowed in confusion… and concern? “…I’m sorry, I just gotta know if you… meant that. If you’d rather I call you… are- are you trans or something??”
…Okay, that was close , and technically correct- but no, Wade wasn’t a woman. Not entirely, anyways... Logan didn’t seem disgusted by the idea, so that part of Wade’s worries was able to shut up!! But… god, this was gonna get even more confusing. “I… well…” Wade paused for a second, trying to figure out how to put this.
“Not judging you here, bub. Just… trying to make sure, so I didn’t accidentally-“
“No- no!! I’m not- well… okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me here, peanut. Alright?” Wade asked, his gaze flitting away from Logan and suddenly finding the cracks in the sidewalk very, very interesting. The gruff man slowly nodded, looking at him patiently.
“I’m not… not a man. But I’m also… not not a woman, either? I might also be some secret third thing, don’t worry about it- just, I don’t really even care that much!! Trust me!! It’s just…” Wade nervously chuckled- it seemed so simple in his mind, but Logan had to be so confused right now, right? “…You don’t gotta change anything with my name or nothing, it’s just- a long while back, I kinda figured out that… my gender, it’s… more complex than just a man?? If that makes any sense…?”
Logan was looking at Wade, trying to decipher his words. As soon as Wade saw that face, his heart dropped- he knew that would all be too much too soon… Maybe he should just pretend he was joking after all? It’d be much easier that way-
“…Okay? I can’t say I’ve heard of that before, but… Wade. You know I don’t give a fuck, right?” For a moment, Wade glanced up at Logan, really hoping he wasn’t calling him ridiculous or anything. It was always hard to explain this to people, which is why he usually just… didn’t! But Logan wouldn’t have let him lie about it… he never let him lie about anything anymore!! Something about being able to “smell when he’s lying” or some shit?
“That- no, that sounded bad, what I’m trying to say is…” Logan reached forward to grab his hand again, and Wade felt his heart calm down and fill itself with butterflies at the same damn time. “If… if that’s what you are, I don’t mind. Whatever it is- you know what, just throw the Wikipedia page at me if it has a name, okay?”
Genderfluid. Wade had figured that out with Vanessa long ago, and learning what that meant, why he felt like he fit in with both men and women- but also neither category truly felt like… him? Her? Them, even-? was a massive breath of fresh air at the time. And… Logan was willing to learn. All for him…? Oh, he knew he’d picked right!! Thank God he hadn’t picked the vaguely problematic Logan from the early comic days on accident or something…
“You… you mean it, Logan? I didn’t just blow your mind in a bad way…?” Wade huffed uncomfortably, still not quite believing what he’d just said.
“Ah,” Logan waved off his concerns, stepping closer to give him a hug. Oh, he could cry- Logan hugs were the best… “You’re still Wade, aren’t ya? We’re mutants- people like him hate us for a lot of reasons. Just because I don’t understand something… doesn’t mean it’s any of my business. And- bub…” He stepped back a bit, giving Wade that soft, caring look that always melted his heart. “I’ll try my best to understand. For your sake, alright? I love you…”
Wade genuinely smiled, for the first time since that shitbag ruined their nice day out. “I love you too, peanut. Thanks… really. This means a lot…” he muttered, squeezing him tight before he pulled away.
In return, Logan gave Wade’s hand a tight squeeze. God- always had to try and break his fingers, huh? “No problem, bub…” He muttered something under his breath, making Wade’s heart skip a beat since it sounded suspiciously like, “You mean a lot, so…”
With that heartwarming coming-out story out of the way, they walked back to their apartment as though nothing had happened… and in a way, it really hadn’t!
Because they had each other, didn’t they? And no one's stupid opinion of them would get in the way of their love, no matter how loud and annoying they were about it…
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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days ago
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i remember you mentioned Harry loves spending time with Diary bc of his connection with Voldemort (or i think so) but what about Voldemort in his head? does he loves it or not? i also think after death-and-rebirth he kinda feel more lighter and even sad about it
Like, it's canon Harry likes to just hold the diary becouse he feels drawn to it, even before knowing how it works:
Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.
(CoS, Ch13)
That's an actual quote from the book.
Also, later on, Tom has to literally spell out that he's Voldemort because Harry was just completely unwilling to accept that his new BFF Tom who he might have a baby crush on is evil:
“Tom — Tom Riddle?” Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry’s face. “What d’you mean, she won’t wake?” Harry said desperately. “She’s not — she’s not — ?” “She’s still alive,” said Riddle. “But only just.” [...] “Are you a ghost?” Harry said uncertainly. “A memory,” said Riddle quietly. “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.” He pointed toward the floor near the statue’s giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry [...] For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there — but there were more pressing matters to deal with. “You’ve got to help me, Tom,” Harry said, raising Ginny’s head again. “We’ve got to get her out of here. There’s a basilisk . . . I don’t know where it is, but it could be along any moment. . . . Please, help me —” Riddle didn’t move. [...] But his wand had gone. “Did you see — ?” He looked up. Riddle was still watching him — twirling Harry’s wand between his long fingers. “Thanks,” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle’s mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly. “Listen,” said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny’s dead weight. “We’ve got to go! If the basilisk comes —” “It won’t come until it is called,” said Riddle calmly. [...] “What d’you mean?” he said. “Look, give me my wand, I might need it —” Riddle’s smile broadened. “You won’t be needing it,” he said. Harry stared at him. “What d’you mean, I won’t be — ?” “I’ve waited a long time for this, Harry Potter,” said Riddle. “For the chance to see you. To speak to you.” “Look,” said Harry, losing patience, “I don’t think you get it. We’re in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later —” “We’re going to talk now,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry’s wand. Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here. . . .
(CoS, Ch17)
Like, it takes Harry forever to get to the realization something is wrong even though Tom steals his wand and says mysterious evil shit because Harry was so desperate to keep Tom as his friend.
I mentioned here, how Harry does like his mental connection to Voldemort in DH in a way because it gives him a sense of purpose.
Harry is the one to decide they should be wearing the locket after he sensed life from it:
“Can you feel it, though?” Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist. “What d’you mean?” Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel, or was it something beating inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart? “What are we going to do with it?” Hermione asked. “Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it,” Harry replied, and, little though he wanted to, he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes, where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given him.
(DH, Ch14)
He's also the one of the trio that insists they should be wearing the locket even after they learn of it's effects, while Hermione suggests that maybe they really shouldn't:
“Hmm,” said Hermione, looking down at the heavy gold locket. “Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent.” “We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,” Harry stated firmly. “If we lose it, if it gets stolen — ”
(DH, Ch15)
Ron is also against wearing Horcruxes, while Harry didn't seem to mind keeping the cup in his pocket:
Harry pulled the Horcrux from the pocket of the wet jacket he had just taken off and set it down on the grass in front of them. Glinting in the sun, it drew their eyes as they swigged their bottles of juice. “At least we can’t wear it this time, that’d look a bit weird hanging around our necks,” said Ron, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
(DH, Ch27)
So, yeah, I think Harry definitely could feel his connection to Tom and the various Horcruxes.
I do think, once he comes back to life, he feels emptier, like a part of him is gone in a way. He'd feel lighter like a weight was taken off his shoulders, but I think he'd also feel off and aimless. I talked about it more here.
It's why I think Harry should've gone back for 8th year, I think getting his NEWTs and the familiar environment at Hogwarts would do him good after everything. Give my boy a break.
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akataiii · 2 days ago
Text
Fluffy!! (Shoyo Hinata x Reader)
“I have to touch it.”
Kiyoko looked up at you from her clipboard, her brows raised questioningly. Even if your words were aimed at her, you didn't see the confused gaze that was resting on you, given your eyes were focused on something entirely different.
“You've lost me,” Kiyoko said to you, and your attention shifted from the court onto her.
“You know what I mean,” you urged, your grip tightening on the volleyball you were holding as you nodded your head to your right.
Kiyoko looked in the direction you’d nodded in, and her eyes scanned the court. After a few moments, she looked back at you, still confused as ever.
“Yeah, no. I don't.”
You gave an over dramatic groan, throwing your head back in frustration. You dropped the ball you’d been holding and reclaimed your seat next to Kiyoko, regarding her with a serious expression.
“I'm talking about someone's hair,” you whispered through gritted teeth, nodding your head to the court again. 
At your words, Kiyoko raised her brows again, this time in surprise. She looked back to the court, searching through the players a second time, this time looking for someone specific. When her eyes landed on said someone, and she gave a realizing ‘Ohh.’
“Mhm,” you hummed, your eyes leaving Kiyoko again to look over at your best friend. Hinata’s wild red hair looked fluffier than usual today due to the humid weather, and it was driving you insane.
You and Hinata were in the same class, and the two of you met at the start of the year when you picked him out of the crowd by his alluring head of fluffy red hair. It stood out to you, and you felt almost drawn to it, so you decided to just go up and talk to him. You and the boy quickly hit it off and became the best of friends, even going so far as to make a personal handshake that the two of you carried out every morning. So every day when Hinata came over to your desk to complete your handshake, you were forced to fight the temptation of ruffling his hair.
It was manageable, though, seeing as Hinata sat behind you and had volleyball before and after school, so you didn’t have to stare at his alluring, fluffy hair 24/7. That is, it was manageable until Hinata invited you to become the next volleyball manager, and of course you couldn’t say no to your best friend, so now you were the new manager in training and you were forced to stare at Hinata and his stupid, fluffy, red hair.
You admitted this to Kiyoko after she caught you staring at him during practice once, and now it’s become a secret shared between you two managers.
“It looks so fluffy,” you complained, earning a smile and a light eye roll from Kiyoko.
“Yes, yes. I’m well aware,” she said, and you gave a pout, your gaze never leaving Hinata as he moved around on the court.
This went on for quite some time, until the team eventually reached the end of the set and everyone came around to drink some water. You watched where Hinata stood off to the side chatting with Kageyama.
Then, from the corner of your eye, you could see Tanaka and Nishinoya approaching your redheaded friend, both wearing serious expressions.
“Hinata. We need to talk,” you heard Tanaka say, and your heart gave a jolt. It was rare for Tanaka to get so serious, and maybe you were imagining it, but he looked almost…mad. It scared you a little.
Hinata spun around, his eyes shooting open in surprise, giving him that innocent expression he usually got. “Sure. Is everything okay?” Hinata asked.
Tanaka folded his arms across his chest, Nishinoya soon mirroring his pose, looking equally serious.
“It’s about what you’ve been doing behind our backs,” Nishinoya said, and Tanaka hummed, giving an affirming nod.
Hinata tilted his head to the side, nose scrunching up in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what we mean!” Tanaka suddenly yelled out, getting up in Hinata’s space and hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt.
“You gotta tell us your secrets, man!” Nishinoya added, pointing an accusing finger in the redhead’s direction.
By now, with all the yelling, they had garnered the rest of the team’s attention, and Daichi hurried over to put a stop to what looked to be the starting stages of a fight. You rushed over as well, Kiyoko short on your heels.
“Hey! Knock it off!” Daichi yelled as he yanked the two second years out of Hinata’s space, pulling them off to the side to talk.
“Shoyo. Are you okay?” you asked, placing your hands on the boy’s shoulders.
The redhead nodded, placing his hands over yours and giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m fine,” Hinata said with a smile before looking over to where the two second years were being scolded by Daichi. “I’m just confused.”
You looked over at Tanaka and Nishinoya as well, your hands finally leaving Hinata’s shoulders and your brows furrowing. “You and me both,” you said to your friend.
“Explain yourselves!” Daichi scolded, giving both second years a smack over the back of their heads. A few chuckles sounded out from the team, quickly being silenced when Daichi gave a warning glare.
“Ow! Okay, okay!” Tanaka surrendered, rubbing the sore spot on his head. “Jeez. Did you have to hit us so hard?”
“I’m about to hit you harder if you don’t start explaining,” Daichi threatened, and as if to solidify his statement, he lifted his hand again.
“No! No! We’ll explain!”
“Have mercy!”
Tanaka and Nishinoya shared a look before sighing and directing their attention to the entire team.
“Hinata’s been holding out on us,” Tanaka accused, pointing at the redhead.
“Whatever he’s been doing behind our backs, it’s working,” Nishinoya added, joining Tanaka in pointing a finger at your friend.
“What have I been doing!?” Hinata asked, pointing at himself with his brows dipped into a deep frown. 
“That’s what you have to tell us!” Nishinoya yelled.
“You’ve been hogging all Y/N’s attention!” Tanaka yelled at the same time. 
At their words, a silence fell over the gym before everyone turned their gazes over to you. You stared back blankly, Tanaka’s words taking an extra second to sink in. Once you finally registered what he said, though, your cheeks flushed as heat rushed to your face.
“Wait, it’s not what you guys think!” you exclaimed, wildly flailing your hands around in the air in front of you. “Hinata isn’t doing anything. It’s just me being stupid.”
Realizing what you just said, you hurriedly slapped your hands over your mouth, feeling the heat in your cheeks against your palms. You felt mortified. What you just said was just about as good as a confession that you had been staring at Hinata. Tanaka and Nishinoya knew this, seeing as they’d noticed all your attention was focused on the redhead.
You heard Tsukishima snort somewhere in the crowd, and you wanted to crawl into a hole to hide from your embarrassment. How could you let this happen?
“What do you mean ‘it’s just you being stupid?’” Nishinoya asked, walking closer to you.
“Noooo,” you groaned in protest, hiding your heated face in your hands and crouching down to make yourself seem smaller.
“Y/N?” you heard Hinata ask, and you shook your head.
“No. Just forget I said anything, please.”
“No, please!” Tsukishima yelled from somewhere in the back, his tone sarcastic and mocking. “Do tell us why you’ve been staring and giving Hinata all your attention.”
You groaned again, wishing you could sink deeper into the ground below you. 
“Y/N. Are you okay?” Hinata asked, and you could hear the concern in your friend’s voice clear as day. He sounded close to you.
You turned your head to look to your right, where Hinata was crouched down and looking at you with a worried expression. His hand was raised and ready to rub your back comfortingly, and the thought made your heart do flip-flops.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your words sounding funny where your cheek was smooshed against your forearm.
“For what?” Hinata questioned, his hand lowering onto your back. His palm was pleasantly warm, the heat spreading through your body.
You thought for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek before quietly admitting, “For staring at you.”
Hinata stared back at you with an unreadable expression for a moment before he gained a soft smile.
“I don’t mind,” he said, his smile unwavering and honest. “You can stare at me all you want. It doesn’t bother me.”
Having Hinata tell you that you were allowed to stare at him made your stomach swirl with giddiness, and for a second, you had a fleeting thought. As quickly as it came, you dismissed it, telling yourself that it was a horrible idea that was to be abandoned. Even if Hinata was honest and accepting, that didn’t mean he would allow just about anything.
Unless…No! No, Y/N, don’t even think about it.
“Hey, Shoyo?” Don’t do it Y/N.
“Yeah?” Y/N, don’t say it.
“Can I touch your hair?” Oh. You said it.
You felt Hinata tense up, the hand resting on your back disappearing. Immediately, you opened your mouth to apologize, wishing you could turn back time and take back your question. You felt your embarrassment return full-swing, the heat in your cheeks flaring back up.
“Sho—” you started to say, hoping an apology would be enough and that you’d still be able to remain friends, before you were abruptly cut off by the redhead.
“Yes!” Hinata interjected loudly, and it’s only then that you noted his face looked rather flushed. “You can touch it.”
As he said this, he bowed his head in front of you, giving you a clear view of his fluffier than usual head of red hair. For a moment, you thought about getting up and running away, but the temptation of touching his hair was too strong. Your deepest desire was being presented to you on a silver platter, and you would be a fool not to take it, so, with careful and tentative movements, you lifted your hand and inched closer to Hinata’s hair.
Eventually, you reached his head, and your fingers were buried within his soft red locks. The feeling was everything you’d dreamed about and more, his hair living up to the fluffy ideals you’d set for it in your mind.
“It’s so fluffy,” you whispered, bringing your other hand up and using it to further ruffle Hinata’s hair.
The other members of the team stared at the two of you, most confused, but Tanaka and Nishinoya wearing matching looks of anger. Tsukishima made a sound of disgust somewhere from the back, but you were too busy enjoying Hinata’s fluffy hair to give a damn. Hinata seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as you, giving happy, giddy chuckles and leaning into your touch rather than away.
“You can touch my hair whenever you want,” Hinata said when you got your fix, his hair looking properly tousled and messed up.
“Thank you,” you replied, reaching a hand up to fix one of the more unruly strands. “And thanks for also not thinking I’m weird.”
You looked behind you to where the team had gone back to practice without Hinata. They probably thought you were super creepy or strange, given they hadn’t tried to stop you and get Hinata back on the court.
As if sensing your inner turmoil, you felt Hinata’s presence appear behind you. You were about to turn around to look at him, before two arms wrapped around your torso and squeezed you in a tight hug, stopping you from turning around.
“You’re not weird,” Hinata reassured, his voice right next to your ear and sending a chill running down your spine.
“You think so?” you questioned, hoping it would take your mind off of the warm breath tickling the back of your neck.
“I know so. You’re my best friend after all, so I know you the best.” With a final squeeze, Hinata broke his embrace and ran back onto the court, leaving you behind with a stuttering heart and warm cheeks. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you could spot Kiyoko looking at you with a teasing glint in her eye, and you knew for a fact she’d interrogate you later. Maybe this hadn’t been the ideal way to go about telling your best friend you wanted to ruffle his hair, but hey! At least you now had unlimited access to said head of fluffy red hair.
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judesvfx · 2 days ago
Text
IFHY- jude bellingham and y/n
part 2.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— — — — — — — — —
summary on part 2: you and jude have been back dating for a couple months now, everything going perfect until recently when jude started to act a bit cold and distant, completely the opposite to his usual self. he was barely asking to see you, only replying to your texts with one or two words that seem really un interested. You notice his behaviour and do your best to try and ask him without turning it into an argument like the past times because you both agreed to handle stuff more maturely a while ago.
NOTES: i added his pov too seeing as y/n’s part was really short
— — — — — — — — —
I woke up after a good sleep, stretching and groaning as I observed around my bedroom looking out the window at the beautiful sunrise coming up, then with a smile I grabbed my phone and pulled up jude’s number, texting him a quick messsge saying “Goodmorning, do you wanna do something today? the two of us?” and sent it with excitement hoping for a yes, and for once, an enthusiastic one.
After I got out of the shower and wrapped myself into a towel, my phone dinged with a text back from jude, I unlocked my phone and clicked onto it just to see the reply being “yeah, alright. sounds good.” dry and boring, again. “not even a goodmorning back..?” I mutter to myself rolling my eyes then my fingers hover over the keyboard again sending back a “Okay, our usual cafe at 4, don’t be late.” With a heart at the end, the cafe was me and jude’s special spot.
I got into a comfortable outfit as it was pretty cold outside, just a casual ralph lauren polo sweater and some sweatpants, my go to outfit on cold days. I brushed my teeth, did my skincare, makeup and put my hair in a high ponytail and curled the end bits of it for detail, then made my way to the kitchen to get myself something for breakfast, I decided on just apple juice and an açai bowl.
After finishing breakfast I washed the dishes, then made my way over to grab my coat and my purse and make my way to the mall so I could go shopping before meeting with jude, I grabbed my car keys then made my way out of the door locking the door behind me and unlocking my car, my car was a beautiful dark purple bmw m3 g80.
I drove to the mall then I parked my car and made my to the first store I liked, I picked up a couple pieces of clothing such as sweaters and leggings, some makeup like a new lip liner, mascara and moisturiser and some earrings and a necklace. Before leaving to go meet jude I walked to the mini real madrid store and got jude a teddy with a real madrid jersey on it hoping he would like it.
Soon after I made my way to the cafe after putting all my shopping bags in the car but for the one for jude, when I got in he was already waiting for me at our usual table and I walked over slowly with a warm smile, “hii, I feel like it’s been so long since i’ve seen you, and I got you something.” I greeted jude and handed him the bag, he glanced up at me “hey y/n , you didn’t have to do that you know?” He smiled slightly and took the bag carefully.
I watched him open it, smiling ear to ear unable to wait for his reaction, he opened it slowly and took the teddy out, this time a more expressive smile on his face. “aw, it’s cute, thank you” he said slowly and softly I sat down shortly after and we ordered lunch, I got a caesar salad and he got a steak, I still wondered about his low energy thinking about if I should speak up or not.
About an hour later we finished our meals and when we paid the bill and stood up walking eachother out I turned to him and asked “do you wanna come over for a bit? pretty bored alone at home” Jude glanced around then spoke up “yeah sure” he replied with a gentle smile. We got in my car and I drove us back to my place.
He helped me carry my bags from shopping into the house and set them on my bed for me after I thanked him, I leaned against the doorframe to my bedroom finally seeing a chance to ask him about it so I spoke up “hey jude? can we talk? i feel like you’ve been really distant towards me recently.” my voice was slightly shaky as I spoke and a nervous tone settled in the words, jude turned around.
“distant? how?” He asked walking a couple steps towards me slowly, instantly defensive. “I don’t know. you’ve barely been texting me or asking me to meet you anymore, you didn’t even text goodmorning back today.” I spoke back quickly.
“I’m a busy person, y/n, not everything in my life revolves around you, I can’t always be with you.” he answered to me, his eyes narrowing as he inspected me carefully while talking, “right, I know that jude, it’s just hard with it being so one sided.” Jude stepped closer again “You can’t deal with it? because if you can’t then maybe that just means we shouldn’t be together.” He spoke with a straight forward tone leaning down to me.
“That’s not what I was trying to say, Jude” I spoke quickly, “No, it dosen’t matter, because honestly, i’m too busy for you right now y/n, im sorry but I just can’t balance you with everything else currently, we’re done, sorry.” Jude replied hesitantly but seeming sure of his words as he stepped back to grab his coat leaving me with nothing to say back but to just stand there and accept the fact that he’s gone from my life, again. he walked out of the house.
— — — — — — — — — —
JUDES POV.
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I woke up exhausted after spending hours in training and gym yesterday, my legs in pain from all leg cardio i did as that’s what I mainly focus on when working on at the moment, I groaned loudly as I rolled around the bed for a moment before sitting up to stretch widely and yawning.
I made my way to the bathroom and took a quick shower to wake me up then got changed into a casual but stylish outfit, black ripped jeans and a black hoodie with graffiti design on it. I brushed my teeth and did my usual morning routine that I was used to doing and then my phone dinged, a text from y/n saying “Goodmorning. do you wanna do something today? the two of us?”
I wasn’t really in the mood for anything today, but I didn’t see her for ages so I didn’t want to just turn her down like that, so I texted a reply back that was simple and straight forward saying “yeah, alright”, she texted me back with the time and location to meet at and I hearted the message.
I made my way to the kitchen and turned my playlist on while I made breakfast, I made pancakes with maple syrup and a fruit bowl on the side with a coffee next to it. I enjoyed the meal slowly as I checked up on socials and answered a couple brand deals and texts from teammates.
I made my way to the sofa and layed down on it and switched to a tv show instead of my playlist, catching up on the new episodes i’ve missed and just binging until it was time to leave my house later on.
At around 3:40 I grabbed my coat and threw it on as I made my way out the door and turned to lock it then left, the cafe was a quick walk so instead of taking my car I walked there, feeling every bit of wind breeze through my hoodie as I walked.
I got there a couple minutes before y/n did so I took a seat at our usual table where we have most of our dates and scrolled on instagram as I waited patiently for her since she had a couple minutes left until it was 4:00.
A couple minutes she walked in with a bag hanging down by her hand and I put my phone down to glance at it curiously, I admired every part of her as she walked and let her know I did by simply telling her she looked beautiful. She handed me the bag and I pulled out a teddy with a mini jersey that had my name on it, I felt a smile on my face automatically even while I was having an off day she still managed to make me smile.
We ordered lunch for ourselves and spoke as we ate, just casual small talk about life and so on, when we finished eating she offered me to come to her place for a bit as she was bored at home all day by herself, I simply agreed as it wasn’t so much of an issue.
The car ride to her house was mostly silent, not an awkward silence just a normal one, I spent most of the ride admiring the way her hair fell perfectly in a high ponytail and how much the colour of her sweater suits her, she was always looking amazing to me, it’s a thing I liked about her, that she knows she dosen’t need to try for me because no matter what i’ll think she’s perfect.
When we got to her house I helped bring her shopping bags up to her bedroom and placed them onto her bed where she usually wants them placed, I could tell y/n had something on her mind today, but I didn’t really ask about it thinking that I just thought everyone else is off because I was too. Until she spoke up, “hey jude? can we talk? i feel like you’ve been really distant towards me recently.”
I turned to her slowly, glancing straight at her eyes as they usually showed me how she was feeling, she was nervous and obviously upset. I walked closer towards her as I spoke “distant? how?” I could tell myself that I was instantly getting defensive, I hated being called out on stuff I don’t notice myself and it’s hard for me to handle it.
She spoke again, “I don’t know. you’ve barely been texting me or asking me to meet you anymore, you didn’t even text goodmorning back today.” I looked down embarrassed, I knew she was right, I just hated admitting it, so I didn’t, even though I knew it hurts more to argue about it rather than me just apologising and making it up to her.
I looked up again and replied quickly, “I’m a busy person, y/n, not everything in my life revolves around you, I can’t always be with you.” I knew it was wrong to say all of that to her, she was my girlfriend and she dosen’t deserve those words from me at all, after all, all she does is try her best to make me happy on my bad days, but I never did it back properly and I know those words hurt her.
She looked down for a minute then back around the room as she started talking slowly, “right, I know that jude, it’s just hard with it being so one sided…” I hated how she called it one sided, so much, even though she was right, and she was only telling me how it felt in her position, but it really annoyed me especially while I was already not having a good day today.
I snapped at her, not meaning to,“You can’t deal with it? because if you can’t then maybe that just means we shouldn’t be together.” I exclaimed sharply, my voice more focused now, I didn’t show any emotion while saying everything to her because I didn’t realise what I was saying until it was too late.
“No, that’s not what i’m trying to say jude, please!” She replied, her voice hurt and her eyes getting teary. “No, it dosen’t matter, because honestly, i’m too busy for you right now y/n, im sorry but I just can’t balance you with everything else currently, we’re done, sorry.” I spoke back quickly, everything came falling out at once and I meant none of it, but I only realised when tears started streaming down her face and she looked straight down not replying, I showed no emotion but it hurt, badly.
I couldn’t deal with watching her cry over me being stupid once again and messing it up between us. I grabbed my coat and hurried past her and out of her house before I started tearing up too, knowing that inside she really needed comfort, and I also messed up by not giving her any.
I fucked up, badly.
— — — — — — — — — —
IFHY- jude bellingham and y/n.
part 2.
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cora-illus · 11 months ago
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I'm living far away, on the face of the moon I've buried my love to give the world to you
Moondust by Jaymes Young
available as prints! | comms open
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bitchthefuck1 · 5 months ago
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you know what, I actually will talk about this because it's bothering me. The issue with focussing so heavily on syd and carmy's potential for a romantic relationship isn't that there's something inherently unintellectual about romance or whatever, it's that a lot of people seem incapable of doing that without immediately flattening the story and ignoring or intentionally misreading any and all nuance for the sake of that romance. Every scene suddenly becomes about how it impacts their relationship, every analysis is done through a romantic lens, every frame or line of dialogue becomes about finding some easter egg or hint that "proves" these people should start dating. Their dynamic is absolutely a fundamental part of this show, but if you can only see it as a will-they-won't-they, you miss so much of what the story is actually trying to say with these two.
There are good versions of this story where their relationship is romantic and there are good versions of this story where it isn't, but as soon as you decide them being together is "the point," you lose the ability to actually judge the story for what it is, not what you want it to be.
#like so much of their dynamic (esp but not exclusively in S3) has been about showing the ways that carmy's trauma and dysfunctional#attitude in the kitchen impacts other people and how even though he cares about syd and wants their partnership to work he keeps self#sabotaging and setting himself and by extension her and the restaurant up to fail and replicating the same toxic environments that#he grew up and trained in and this is very much consistent with his character and a natural continuation of the conflicts they've been#having since S1 but because him being shitty with her runs contrary to them getting together suddenly its 'ruining the story' and#out of character and only happening bc the writers just hate to see this ship winning and like. if you really think that i genuinely don't#know what show you've been watching bc it sure as shit wasn't this one. like it hurts to see him do this because you know#they could do something genuinely great together and that he's ruining a really good thing but this is also the reality of where he is rn#if he was just a good and supporting business partner and not deeply dysfunctional it would be wildly out of character#the problem w S3 wasn't that it 'ruined' their relationship it's that it had no clear focus overemphasized carmy's arc at the expense#of the other leads deprioritized the supporting cast while failing to give them their own arcs gave more screen time to#unecessary and uninteresting new 'comic relief' characters and let conflicts stagnate without resolving them or#letting them evolve over the course of the season.#this isn't exclusive to the bear this is a general trend ive noticed where as soon as the 'shipper' part of people's brains get activated#it's like they lose the ability to read the story any other way and it stops being about what's good for the narrative and starts being#about whether or not these two people kiss and anything that gets in the way of that is bad and anything that brings it closer is good#and it's usually whatever but it's really frustrating when the story ppl are doing that to is this good#it also makes people fundamentally incapable of treating any 'obstacle' to that romance in a way that isn't wildly meanspirited and#gross (esp bc those characters are usually women) which is exhausting. like no claire isn't evil or a 'pick me' or 'bad' for carmy#or a useless addition to the story or whatever other nonsense you guys have decided must be true to feel okay. she's a perfectly normal#character and their relationship is exploring some of the ways that carmy's inability to deal with or actually address his trauma#impacts the various relationships in his life. she doesn't even have to be a monster or a narrative mistake for him and syd to be#'destined' for each other or whatever. this isn't a middle school wattpad fic.#im definitely gonna get killed in the street for this but ive been looking for a good reason to spend less time on here so might as well#the bear#sydcarmy#sydney adamu#carmy berzatto
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koifoxes · 2 months ago
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currently 15 chapters into lotm rn. ik everyone says that i should atleast finish the first vol to know whether i should drop it but it really feels like such a chore to read through the first novel
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random-thot-generator · 2 months ago
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Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.
>>>>>
Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.
It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.
His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.
His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.
Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.
"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.
Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.
For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.
And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.
When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.
Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.
Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.
And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.
By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.
And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.
It says 'Missus Riley', of course.
-
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kurooh · 22 days ago
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I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO
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⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.
warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)
xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃
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“hello?”
“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”
“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”
“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.
“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”
“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.
“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”
“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.
“i suppose so.”
“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”
“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”
“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”
“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.
“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”
a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.
you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.
“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”
“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”
you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”
“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.
“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”
“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.
the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”
you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”
“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”
“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.
you might as well be wearing nothing.
the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.
“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.
“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.
“could i at least turn around?”
“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.
“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”
“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.
“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”
“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.
it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?
“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”
beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”
he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”
the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”
“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”
suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”
you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”
“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”
satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.
“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.
“you’ve got my full attention.”
“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”
a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.
“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”
it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.
truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”
“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.
“lie back for us.”
“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.
satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.
“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”
suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.
“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”
the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.
“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”
satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”
you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.
it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.
“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”
suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”
satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.
“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.
“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.
“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”
satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.
“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.
“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”
“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.
“she’s fucking soaked.”
“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”
satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.
their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.
“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”
the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.
“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”
“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.
“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”
you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”
satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.
“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”
“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”
satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.
“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.
you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.
“cover us in your cum, baby.”
obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.
“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”
suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”
with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.
“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”
“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”
you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.
“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.
“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”
you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.
likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.
you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”
slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.
“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”
“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”
“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”
with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.
satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.
“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.
suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.
“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”
“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”
waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.
the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.
you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.
above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”
“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”
as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.
you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.
“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”
“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”
his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.
“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”
as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.
“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.
“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.
everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.
satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.
“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.
you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”
“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”
you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”
“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.
“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”
“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”
you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”
satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .
“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.
“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.
“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.
“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”
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teaboot · 21 days ago
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Okay so like. You know your own name as a kid, right?
You remember how it sounds, how your parents say it, how your friends say it- you learn how to spell it, and maybe even what it means and why it was given to you, and it's yours.
It's not a tangible, physical thing, like your hair or your fingernails, but it's yours. It belongs to you.
So, like. Imagine there comes a point in life where everyone gets their name tattooed to their forehead, or something.
Could be when they're two. Could be when they're twenty. Hell, it could be when they're eighty, or ninety-nine, or whenever. But it's everybody, and it's inevitable, and it happens.
Now imagine the time comes for you, and you get up after and look in the mirror and realize they spelled it wrong.
And you have to go outside and live your life in a world where everybody is so totally used to knowing people's names on sight that not a single person second-guesses that your parents named you Susam, or Ahley, or Benjabib.
And you know it's wrong, every time you hear it, but you can choose to explain every single time- every time you're called in a coffee queue, every time a teacher picks you in class, every time you meet a new person or bump into a stranger or are greeted on the street, by children and employers and door-to-door salesmen and your fucking waitress- or you can kind of just learn to grit your teeth and ignore it.
You still notice, of course- maybe you learn to accept it, maybe you hate it every time, but whether you do anything about it or not, you still know. You know people have the wrong word for you in your head.
You know they still mean YOU, but it's not you.
So what's your solution?
Do you shrug, decide it doesn't matter, and go about your life?
Do you smear the typo over with foundation, pencil in new letters every morning?
Do you stare into the mirror sometimes and think, "wow, I should really get that fixed"?
Maybe you save up your money and get it removed, or covered up, or changed to something else. Maybe the whole damn thing was wrong, and you've been a Jacob running around as a Hailey this whole damn time.
That's the best way to explain it. It's not an easily-provable thing, or a demonstrable thing, or a feeling I can one-for-one substitute as something else-
but that's what it's like to know you're not a girl.
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roadstostray · 25 days ago
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oh jeez. so much broken glass. ill get the vacuum
bonus facts about this piece under the cut
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ANYA: I gave her the nighttime screen because shes associated primarily with it. but in addition to that, I chose the nightscreen for her death being the brightest thing for her in the darkest time (why the moon is on hery) she takes power away from jimmy by making that choice. If you look in her eyes, you will see a bottle of pills. yeah. you get it. The glass shatter also represents her death
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SWANSEA: first of all, I've grown up drawing nothing but twinks and furries. drawing swansea was the most fun ive ever had drawing something completely new. fat old man supremacy. okay, but i chose the sunset screen for swansea as he is a fading light. still bright, sticking around, but "on his way out." i added some pink to the water reflection to represent Daisuke and his influence on Swansea. Also there is a gun in his eyes. and the bullet hole glass. It's chaotic due to the nature of the wound (thanks jimbus) and for the fact i couldn't figure out how to do two bullet wounds.
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DAISUKE (🎉): i picked the daylight screen for daisuke because of his bright personality. the clouds represent his doubt in being on the tulpar, but insistence on making the most of it. he has a slit on his brow and i hand it to you to decide which you like more. Either a scar from skateboarding that he tells people is from getting into a fight, or alternatively just something he does to be cool. he has an axe highlight in his eyes, in addition to the glass shatter being that of an axe hitting glass. chaotic, messy, but ensuring a mercy kill. thats why it's not clean at all.
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Jimmy and Curly: Originally, jimmy was facing the viewer, and curly was also looking to the viewer. after an artistic fit of mania, i completely restructured him to turn his back on both the tulpar crew and the viewer. he looks to the viewer instead of curly, because he wants to be seen. even if he cannot face his actions (or us, the player.) I decided to put him in the blood ocean in curly's nightmares. jimmy displaces himself from a place of friendship to one belonging in nightmares. specifically for his treatment of curly. he invades curly's greatest fears as an unseen horror. i also realized curly would be looking to jimmy, as he never looks away from him in the game. gunshot glass shatter for jimmy too. its especially pretty because it was the best thing his ass could have done (i just thought it looked cool. no symbolism there)
stupid fun facts, to get references for jimmy i used vrchat.
bonus these as icons/wallpapers. use em with credit
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angelicsoka · 4 months ago
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THE HAT RULE, t. owens
word count | 1.7k words
pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader
summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 
warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 
a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.
the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 
tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.
that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.
“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.
“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 
“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 
“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.
“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.
“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.
“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:
“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.
by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.
“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”
“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”
“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 
“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.
“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 
you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 
your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.
“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 
you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.
“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.
“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 
as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.
“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”
“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 
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