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thoseprettywords · 16 hours ago

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Summary: You're at the height of success in your career as a psychologist, but your latest patient has proved to be worth more trouble than you're able to take on.

Word Count: 2438

TW: Cussin, Stalking, Guns, Sex, Mental Health

AN: I’m an old hoe in this writing game, auntie don’t know all these acronyms and new lingo. If you’re under 18, you shouldn’t be here anyway. That being said, MINORS DNI.

Weeks passed since you had been able to spend any quality time with your husband. This new client of yours had you working overtime, putting every credit you earned for your psychology degree to use. Trinity Harrison was a real piece of work. She was a beautiful girl– capable, successful, and driven. She knew right from wrong, but still chose to take the most delusional, dramatic jumps from the tallest cliffs her mind could climb.

Trinity had been ordered to see you by a judge in lieu of spending 3 years in jail for attempted manslaughter. Her lawyer must’ve had a mighty tongue or some deep connections to sway the judge. You had never met someone so delusional, so you were up for the challenge. If you could get through to Trinity, you had truly found your calling.

Trinity Harrison was a young, vibrant soul that viewed the world through rainbow-colored glasses. On New Year's Eve the previous year, she met a guy who was visiting her hometown in upstate New York and ended up ‘pursuing her Christmas love story’ by booking a one-way flight and completely uprooting her life only to find out he was engaged. Instead of taking her L in stride, she became obsessed with replacing his fiance… by any means necessary. Which is exactly how her files ended up on your desk. In a blind rage, she spotted the fiance walking her dog and ran her down with her car. Thankfully, no major injuries occurred.

You were coming up on a year of treating Trinity with no real progress. This ate at you. You had graduated top of your class, opened your own private practice, and had a high-success rate within your clientele.

“Dr. Richmond.” Your assistant poked her head into your office drawing your attention from the thick file in your hands. “It’s 7:00.”

Briefly, you racked your brain trying to recall the significance of the time. Shit. You forgot.

“Thank you Brittany. Tell Terry I’m sorry and I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” You slid the file into a secure drawer and gathered your belongings. This was the third time you’d forgotten about meeting Terry for a date night. You knew he would not be pleased.

Once you arrive home, you slip into the shower eager to wash away the stress of the day. You step out of the shower and notice that Terry has laid out a red dress and a small mystery box. You giggle as you unwrap the box to reveal a pair of vibrating panties, and of course the remote was missing.

You valet your car and enter your favorite restaurant, immediately locking eyes with Terry who stands to greet you as you approach the booth. He leans down and meets your lips with a tender kiss.

“Hey baby. I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s this–” Terry cuts you off, knowing that you were about to say the one name he told you he didn't want to hear tonight. Once you’re seated, he reaches across the table to grab your hands.

“Baby, I have waited weeks to spend this time with you tonight. It’s been weeks since I’ve tasted you, felt you.”

The guilt settles in your stomach as you reminisce on how things were earlier in your relationship. You vowed to make time for each other, to listen to one another, and to cater to one another’s needs. You’ve neglected him, but he wasn’t giving up so easily.

A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel the vibrating sensation from the panties.

“Are you listening to me Mrs. Richmond?” Terry asked while expertly toying with the settings of the remote, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Y-yes Ter- Terry. We’re i-in public. Why–”

Terry leaned in, lowering his voice so that only you could hear. “Because you’re fucking playing with me woman. I haven’t fucked you in 3 weeks! I- I thought you were cheating on me with that Trinity bitch the way you’re never available for me anymore. Are you sure she’s the only one with an obsessive disorder?” The break in his voice almost breaks you. His mood had soured and he switched the panties off. You find yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Look. At. Me.” Terry commanded through gritted teeth. You sheepishly look up to meet his eyes.

You’re interrupted by the waitress delivering the meals Terry had ordered prior to your arrival. Tension and silence filled the air between you as you dug into your meals. It was hard to ignore the glare coming from those icy blue-ish-gray eyes. You find yourself searching for the right words to say, but fail to think of anything that would satisfy his agitation. Failure was never an option for you, yet here you were on the brink of failing your marriage and your pain in the ass patient. There was only one thing to do.

You catch Terry’s hand as you both walk into the dark house. You run your hand down the length of his torso as you drop to your knees. “Baby, you have every right to be mad at me,” you admit as you undo his belt, “but I’m gonna make you feel like the king you are.”

You glance up to see his jaw tense with anticipation before spitting on the tip of his dick. You silently said a prayer knowing that no mercy would be shown. Your neglect created this monster and you didn’t need another failure on your plate, not tonight.

Without another word, Terry grips your head with his massive hands and begins mercilessly stroking your mouth. Tears blur your vision, but you focus on your breathing while steadying yourself. The tension between you slowly melts away and is quickly replaced with a carnal lust. He pulls your head back by grabbing a handful of your hair forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I could be out here fucking any woman I want. It’s so fucking tempting, but I–” He squints in the darkness unsure if he'd heard something.

“What is it baby?” You ask, turning around to see what might’ve caught his attention. Terry shrugs it off and he guides you upstairs to the bedroom. Your punishment was far from over. Terry sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap. He peels the dress over your perfectly toned ass. You brace yourself waiting for his hefty hand to smack your ass. Instead you feel his lips on the small of your back causing you to arch. In one swift motion, he rips your panties and flings them across the room. He kneels behind you, pulling your ass to his face with a deep inhale.

“I want tonight to be a reminder of everything you fell in love with and what you stand to lose.”

You were in no mood to hear any words. You needed to feel his mouth. You ease back only for Terry to grab you by your ass to hold you in place. You hear him chuckle. “I’ve waited three weeks. You can wait 3 fucking seconds, y/n.”

You open your mouth to respond but the words escape you as Terry simultaneously plunges his thick thumb in your asshole as his tongue viciously flicked your hypersensitive clit. You went from a 4.0 GPA college graduate to a babbling twit in a matter of seconds. You could feel him grinning like a Cheshire cat listening to you struggle to form a single word.

“Not yet.” Terry abruptly stops just as you’re about to reach your peak. It blew your mind the way he just knew your body. Not a second later, you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance, teasing you. You crane your neck to look back at him as you plead with your eyes. You both moan in pleasure as he slowly fills you. You were grateful that he was giving you time to adjust. “Terry…” You moan while grinding on his dick. “Fuuuuuck!” He roared while expertly navigating your walls, hitting that sweet spot.

Terry grabs a fistful of hair, while his other hand delivers a heavy smack to your ass. You whimper knowing whats to come. Another smack lands on your bare ass. Pain soon turns into excitement and pleasure. You toot that ass up as high as your spine will allow giving him full access. The stimulation from Terry hitting your spot, his balls slapping your clit, and the stinging sensation from your ass being smacked had you in a euphoric state. This was the first time in a long time that you were able to unwind and let go. You close your eyes as the orgasm envelopes the both of you. While you were on the brink of exhaustion, Terry was walking towards the door.

“I’m going downstairs to get some water baby. You want something?” Terry asks as he stands in the doorway naked as the day he was born. You nod, your throat still feeling raw. Minutes pass. You call Terry’s name to get no response. Your heart races as you tear yourself from the bed immediately feeling the aftermath of your punishment. You creep into the kitchen and find Terry laid face down in the middle of the kitchen. “Terry!” You rush over to him, failing to notice the figure standing in the shadows.

“Hi Dr. Richmond.” You turn around slowly to find your very own patient zero standing in the shadows wearing a devious smile.

“Trinity? What- Why?” She doesn’t respond. Instead she motions for you to sit in a chair while she binds your ankles, wrists, and mouth. You were so careful not to place any personal indicators in your office and Terry had trained you on how to be aware of your surroundings. Your attention went back to your husband who was lying on the floor also bound and unconscious. Trinity struggled to turn him over on his back. You cringed watching her stroke his semi-erect dick. Despite wanting to wring this bitch’s neck, you manage your best poker face.

“Week after week, I’m forced to see you. You think I haven’t noticed how your mood shifts when you see me. You haven’t done shit to fix me!” Trinity shrieked. You cocked your head to the side wondering how the fuck you missed seeing this breakdown coming. She hadn’t improved, but she was stable. She was now standing in front of you toying with a gun. “I watched yall tonight, you know… I touched myself watching him devour you. It should be me!” She snapped, pressing the barrel of the gun to your temple. You prayed silently, for you, for Terry, for this nutty bitch to at least leave you both alive.

You notice Terry beginning to come to. He’s able to assess the situation and meets your eyes, telling you to remain calm without exchanging any words. You know that you need to keep her attention on you long enough to give Terry time to formulate a plan. Sure, Trinity was winning this fight for now, but Terry would ultimately take the victory in the war.

“B..ch.. F…c…you!” You manage to mumble through the gag. Your defiance infuriates Trinity. She snatches the gag from your mouth, keeping the gun pressed to your temple. “Say it again! I can’t wait to fuck your fine ass husband. I’m going to do it right in front of you too.”

“Bitch fuck you! They should’ve thrown the book at you when they had the chance!” You screamed knowing that case was a sore spot. Before Trinity could pull the trigger, Terry had freed himself and held her in a bear hug. With one hand, he retrieved the gun, unloaded it, and pinned her down with his knee in her back. Never losing control of Trinity, he was able to undo the ropes she’d bound you with.

Your entire body shook violently as you struggled to search Terry’s abandoned pants pockets for his phone. You choked back tears as you gave the operator your address. Terry fought to restrain himself from permanently silencing the intruder. Not only had she stressed his wife out, but she had assaulted him and violated his home. “I’d never make you wait three weeks Terry.” She addresses your husband. “And maybe if you were better at your job, I wouldn’t have gotten curious about your life. How the fuck are you so successful, but failed me?” The words cut you. You grab the closest thing to you, an umbrella, and lunge at her.

The thought of failure had consumed and haunted you for months. You’d never failed anything in your life, yet here was your biggest failure obnoxiously taunting you. Terry grabbed the umbrella before it connected. “Bitch I didn’t fail you! Yo mammy failed you. Yo loser ass daddy failed you! It’s not my job to fix you!” She crossed the line a long time ago. That doctor-patient confidentiality bullshit was out the window. You knew you had to verbally cut this bitch deep since Terry wouldn’t allow you to inflict your revenge physically. “Your mama should’ve locked yo ass away when you were 5-years old maniacally obsessing over fictional characters. Weird ass bitch!” Your blood was boiling.

Officers knock at the door. You hand Terry his pants. He meets your eyes. “Baby go upstairs. I’ll handle this.”

“What about your head Terry? You’re bleeding.” He shrugged it off.

“I got this baby. I’ll be upstairs as soon as this is handled. I’m fine.”

You replayed the events of the night in your mind as the hot shower water hit your body. How long had she been stalking you? How did she manage to get inside your home? Terry entered the shower, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re taking some time off, as much as you need. I’m going to file a restraining order and personally see to it that she ends up on the next train back to wherever the fuck she’s from and we are pressing as many charges as it takes to bury her under the psych ward baby. I’m so sorry.” None of this was his fault, but the fact that someone was able to slip past his defenses didn’t sit right with him. After showering Terry carries you to the bed and massages every inch of your body until you drift off to sleep.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a mini-challenge to myself – I overthink and end up abandoning my writings A LOT. I found my angle and finished this in one sitting. I hope you enjoyed, but I appreciate the feedback whether you did or not 🫶🏾

#terry richmond #black writers #black writblr #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #aaron pierre

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morganski-19 · 24 hours ago

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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 49

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 46, part 47, part 48

Wayne’s so tired when he gets back from work, he just wants to fall on his bed and sleep for a day. But he can’t, not yet. Because Steve’s telling him the phone’s for him, and he should take it.

Finally, after months of saving and looking, Wayne put in an offer at a place. Nice little house with two bedrooms, even one with an en suite bathroom. Nice kitchen, good sizes living room, an actual driveway. Even a basement. Everything Wayne’s always wanted but never thought he could have.

His offer was exactly asking price, he couldn’t think of parting with anything more. The phone call was probably from the realtor Mrs. Henderson gave him, telling him that they rejected it. Wanted him to go higher. Like every other house he’s looked at. Just people trying to get more money to start their lives out of the town they ran from within days.

Wayne nods at Steve while he takes the phone. “Wayne Munson,” he sighs into the phone. Already ready for impact.

“Mr. Munson,” the realtor’s cheery voice comes in through the line. Way too early for nine in the morning. “I have some great news, they accepted your offer.”

“What?” he blurts out. Needing to know that his half-asleep mind just didn’t make that up.

“The house, they accepted your offer. You can get the keys as soon as the payment goes through, and everything gets signed.”

It was real. He got the house. A dream he’s long given up on, now a reality. Wayne doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act. The sleep keeps dragging him to the floor, but he almost feels like floating.

“Mr. Munson, are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. I just got back from a shift, but can I come in this afternoon to get everything settled?”

“Let me look.” There is rustling of some papers over the line. “It looks like I can meet with you at three thirty to get everything signed, how does that sound?”

Somehow Wayne musters up the energy to smile. “That works, thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Wayne hangs up the phone on the receiver, not sure how or what he’s feeling. The tiredness still pulling at his bones, but excitement pumping through his heart. He feels like a kid again, too excited to fall asleep.

It’s weird, having a dream that was so long forgotten it became impossible. What was he supposed to do know that it was not only probable but completed?

There’s so much he has to do. Pack away their things there, get some new furniture. Maybe he can go to that thrift store and find some stuff. Just little things to get them through. They need new everything.

Maybe they should stay here for a few more weeks and slowly build up the house. Get things as the pay checks come in, starting with beds and building to a couch. They could get some of those stupid things in houses that always seemed pointless. Like two end tables, or stupid decorations. Something that no one with a soul buys but get anyway because it’s a statement piece.

Wayne finds himself walking toward the living room. Needing to tell someone. Physical exhaustion in each step, but he feels like flying.

“We got the house,” he says with pure disbelief.

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“We got the house,” he says again. Certainty coming through his voice.

“Holy shit.” Eddie motions for Steve’s hand. “Help me up.”

Steve holds out his hand and holds it steady as Eddie uses it to push himself up. Eddie stumbles over to Wayne and collapses in a hug.

“We got a house.”

“We got a house,” Wayne repeats. Tears finding their way to his eyes.

“Congratulations,” Steve says forcefully. Wayne looks at him, seeing the slump of his shoulders. “I’m happy for you guys.”

He knew this would happen when they agreed to live here. When Steve decided to open up, not only his home, but his heart. Show them how an empty house could feel full again. Just to be left empty once more.

But Steve has to move, too. Sometime soon. Maybe he can find a nice apartment with one of his friends. That way it won’t feel so bad leaving him here. And it’s not like they’ll go far. How could they, with everything that’s happened. Eddie will still need help some days, and Steve could come over any time. And there was the elephant in the room he’s been avoiding, that will keep them close.

Wayne can say that he’ll miss living with him. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have believed those words were true. But it was nice living with Steve. Having another person to help out with Eddie, help out with the house. Having little meals left for him when he comes back from his shifts.

But, as much as that hurts, Wayne’s overjoyed. They finally have a house. It’s more than he’s ever asked for.

Little bit of a shorter part to start off the final Wayne pov chapter, can't believe it's already here tbh.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #wayne munson #wayne pov #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic

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shima-draws · 22 hours ago

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So every year my company has a huge conference where we all come together and go to different presentations and stuff. That’s the boring part. The FUN part is getting to talk to everyone and drink and party and listen to the higher ups talk about their experiences which always ends up being super inspirational.

Long story short they had a discussion about like. Taking chances and getting involved in things you want to be involved in even if it means changing positions in the company. And y’all know how much I fucking HATE my current job lol and while I have been searching for work outside of this company I haven’t had much luck (very competitive field + not a lot of open jobs that suit my experience + half the jobs in my field getting taken over by AI, etc etc). But!! While it’s not EXACTLY what I want to do with my life there is a position in this company that definitely has a more creative and artistic side. And that’s marketing. And there’s one (1) guy handling marketing for our entire company and he offhandedly mentioned to me a few weeks back about how he’s looking for help—and he went straight to me in particular bc he knows I have a background in art and design and stuff like that.

So being ✨ inspired ✨ by the conference I stepped wayyyy outside my comfort zone and worked up the nerve to tell him hey I’m interested in what you do and I know you mentioned you might need help and I’d frankly love to help. And he was SUPER excited lol I mean we’ve been friends for a while and he’s literally the friendliest and most extroverted person I’ve ever met. Things are already moving so quickly lmao he’s talked to my boss and his boss about getting me into marketing so I’ll be able to do things like. Photography! And video editing! And web design! And swag design! And lots of creative things!! And I’m very excited!! Bc I’ve felt so fucking stifled at my current job bc it’s just. Very opposite of a creative type job and while I do appreciate my teammates I just. Don’t want to be there anymore.

So I saw the opportunity and I was like. Clearly looking for other jobs is not working rn so you know, maybe marketing isn’t something I want to do forever, but it’ll at least give me more experience in my field if I do end up finding a job elsewhere. You know? And if I do this I won’t be absolutely miserable every single day doing something I don’t care about and don’t love doing. So.

Anyway long story short I might be getting a new position soon and I’m VERY excited and jazzed and grateful to finally get to have a job that I’ll actually enjoy doing. And I wanted to share. :))))

#AND I can negotiate a better salary bc they’re paying me like shit right now lmao #I’m excited. I’m very excited #And I could tell that our marketing guy was super hyped when I mentioned wanting to help I think he’s been wanting to steal me for a while #😂😂😂#My mom was very proud of me for speaking up too #It’s very hard for me to do things like this. I’m super introverted and talking to people is difficult #Let alone being like hey. I want to work for you. Putting myself out there is NOT easy #And my boss was proud of me too #AAAA. AAGFHDHFH. I’M SO #I’m very jittery 😂#But very happy. Eeee!!#Shima speaks #Finally getting to do fun stuff that I like doing. You know?#Long post

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lie-lacdreams · 3 days ago

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Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt.2)

Hi friends -- I'm putting out the second installment to this quickly to gain some more momentum! Thank you for all of the support so far - I wasn't sure how well this was going to do but I hope you've been enjoying it. If you have any questions about the story so far, pls ask! I love interacting :)

engineer! reader x Curly TW: vulgar language, mention of thermo transfer theories (EWWWW), and catching feelings (ew pt.2), oh, and the existential dread of unsatisfaction that ambition can bring to your life, leaving you hungry and wanting more Word count ~ 2.0k

“Daisuke, come back here! I’m going to kill you right now!!” A flash of pink passed Curly before halting to a quick stop to hide right behind him.

“Captain, please save me! Aaaah!” Daisuke screamed as he caught sight of (Y/N), who just came around the bend of the hallway hunting him down.

“What’s going on here?” Curly asked, observing (Y/N’s) disheveled appearance. Her jumpsuit was zipped halfway up to her torso and her hair still looked disheveled from sleep.

She slowed down to a stop, now embarrassed that she had been caught in such a state by the captain before replying, “This… one over here had the genius idea to turn off my alarm and I slept in three extra hours. Could you please hand him over so I could maim him?” She peered to the side of Curly to narrow her eyes at Daisuke, who let out a shriek and made himself smaller behind the man in front of him.

“Oh? I had asked him to do that, actually,” he mused.

“Pardon me?” she straightened.

“You looked so exhausted yesterday, you deserve a few extra hours of rest after giving yourself no breaks. He was just following Captain’s orders.”

“Oh… I see. Uhm, thank you. I guess you’re off the hook then, Dai. Has Swansea got you working on anything right now or do you want to come shadow me? I have to take a look at the pressure in the steam pipes.” she asked the intern.

“Yes! Let’s go. I wanna hear about what you were up to all of yesterday. Swansea and I like, didn’t see you at all. Will you let me help out today?” He came out from behind Curly and started walking ahead of (Y/N), eager to please and for something to do.

“Heh, sure. See you around, Captain.” she said a bit sheepishly, trailing behind Daisuke. After a good night’s rest and the initial panic of waking up late, the interaction with Curly finally sunk in for (Y/N). She typically kept her emotions so detached from the crew and her work and it almost horrified her how easily it was for her to open up to him last night in a moment of vulnerability. As much as it made her uncomfortable to realize that she had run her mouth and ranted to him, she woke up with a feeling of relief. Sure, her job was still going to be hard, but knowing that her captain believed in her and was willing to help in any way he could gave her a sense of peace.

She stopped by some pipes in the corner of the hallway and turned to Daisuke. “Okay, let’s get to work.”

After a few hours of working and (Y/N) explaining Nusselt theory with Daisuke half listening, she finally called for a break.

“Nerd,” he teased as he stuck his tongue out at her. “How did you even come to like any of this stuff anyway?” They leaned on the wall, sitting on the floor together.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I never really knew what I wanted to do in my undergrad. I just picked chemical engineering because it was kinda interesting but hard and so rewarding when I understood it. Getting my PhD in it after working for a few years just seemed like a natural next step.” She turned to Daisuke. “I know you’re in college now, and everyone is probably asking you the same thing and you’re sick of hearing it but what do you want to do?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he started. “I think everyone around me has these expectations that I’ll do something great, and I’m so scared of disappointing them. They say the sky’s the limit and that’s what scares me. I could do anything with my life, so how do I know that whatever I choose won’t be the wrong path?”

“I don’t believe in such a thing as a wrong path,” she responded. “Whatever you choose, you make the best of it and try your hardest. Everything happens for a reason.”

Under his breath, Daisuke laughed. “Man, maybe Anya should hand over the wellbeing check-ins to you. You’re like, so philosophical.”

“Oh God, no. I could never be held responsible for people like that. I’d go mad.” She stood up, dusting off her pants and held a hand to him. “I think we’re pretty much done for the day, believe it or not. Wanna go play some Uno?”

Spending the rest of the day relaxing after the past few days of struggling was refreshing and just what she needed. That night she finally joined the rest of the crew for supper, laughing with Anya about something too far away for Curly to hear. Their little family was complete tonight and it was moments like these that Curly savored. He wished that every moment on the Tulpar could be like this.

A few days later, Curly was exiting the cockpit and was startled to nearly trip over (Y/N). “I’m so sorry, Captain. I had no idea you were in there.” She looked up from her mess of manuals, a notebook, and trusty abacus, a pencil tucked behind her ear.

“It’s alright. Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, just looking at our fuel today and trying to make the Tulpar cooperate with me.” She furrowed her brows.

“Need a hand with anything?” He offered, crouching down to look at the paper in her hands.

“O-Oh, only if you aren’t busy, then yes, I would love some help, actually. But I don’t want to be a burden.”

He shook his head. “Nonsense. The ship’s on autopilot right now and Jimmy will take over for me in fifteen minutes anyway so I’m all yours.”

“Okay,” she flushed. “Thank you, come with me please.” She led him a few paces away. “See this? If you could read me some of the values over here that would be great. This here is the manometer, it measures pressure and over here is the oxidizer. There are a few things I need you to read aloud to me.”

After getting all the information she needed, she bid Curly goodbye and looked around for a place for her to do her calculations. Settling for the couch in the lounge, she got to work when Daisuke plopped down right next to her.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he started.

“ ‘Sup?” She asked, distracted.

“Fuck, marry, kill: anyone on this ship.” His lips spread into a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck Curly, marry Anya, kill Jim– wait a minute, what??” She looked up from her notebook.

Daisuke’s eyes lit up before his face twisted into an expression of evil delight. “Ohohohoo yooo (Y/N) you wanna fuck the captain?”

“No!! Stop that!! You asked me that while I was distracted and not really paying attention. That’s not true.” She swatted at him.

“Sure, but that doesn’t change your answer now, does it? Damn, you answered that shit with no hesitation too!” He shrugged his eyebrows. “Since when did you have the hots for the captain?”

“Sure, I find him really attractive, okay? I admit it. It’s not that big of a deal. Okay then, what about you?” She crossed her arms, face flushed and flustered.

Daisuke’s face contorted to one of disgust. “Eww nah I can’t do this! Swansea and Jimmy are just-” he made dry heaving sounds. “You and Anya are like my older sisters, so that’s absolutely not happening. And Curly – okay I agree with you on that one but like, he’s so much older.” he shrugged.

She let out a ‘harrumph’ before going back to her work. “Doesn’t Swansea have something for you to do, huh?”

Daisuke shook his head. “I’m just waiting ‘til dinner.” He kept her company on the couch as she worked, playing on his gameboy and trying his best to stay quiet so she could concentrate. Supper was a quiet affair today, with not everyone showing up to eat at the same time. People came and went, in and out of the lounge, eventually going to bed. (Y/N) was still up, now in loose pajama pants and a sweatshirt, criss-crossed on the couch and reading a book in the light of the night time screen. Anya had already gone to bed and so she sat in the lounge so as to not disturb her sleep.

“Hey,” said the captain. “Mind if I join you there?” She smiled up at him before patting a spot next to her on the sofa, inviting him to sit with her. She noticed that he was still in uniform as he sat down, draping an arm over the couch and facing her.

“You weren’t there at dinner today, did you have a chance to eat?” She asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Anya brought Jimmy and me dinner. We’re heading straight for a belt of asteroids so we had to do a bit of charting and manual steering to make sure we don’t crash. We should be fine and taken care of now,” he massaged his temples with a hand.

“You look pretty tired, Captain. If you were busy today, you know you didn’t need to help me out, right? Take care of your obligations first.” She looked up at him and the blue glow of the large screen somehow seemed to soften the look in his blue eyes. Dammit, Daisuke, she thought. Admitting the captain was handsome out loud only made her more aware of it. Even with bags under his eyes and the rugged state of his beard, she couldn’t help but blush under his gaze, so she turned to look at the fake moon on the screen.

“No, I enjoyed helping out today. Ever since you opened up to me, I want to make sure that you have the support that you need. It’s my responsibility, after all.” He followed her gaze to look at the display screen as well.

“Don’t you ever get burnt out juggling all of this? It’s a lot to pile onto just one person, and the company makes it even worse by making things accessible only through you. And in the end, you’re the one who’s responsible for our performance on this trip.” She turned back to him now, concerned.

“Sometimes, I guess. I started here on a pretty low rung of the ladder, but I always dreamed of doing something greater. The higher and higher I climbed, the more complicated things got, more liabilities were piled on, but I couldn’t help but keep climbing. There’s still something missing from my life, and even if I get to the top, I’m not quite sure if I’ll ever be satisfied.”

(Y/N) paused for a moment to think. “Would you ever leave this line of work to pursue something completely new, even if it meant having to start over from the beginning?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, I’ve done it once before, so it isn’t that intimidating to have to do it again.”

She nodded. “That’s very admirable. In a sense, it seems like you know what direction you know you want to go in, even if what you want isn’t clear. I respect you a lot for that, Captain.”

Curly shook his head. “Please, I think we all in one way or another are trying our best out here. We all have responsibilities we have to take care of by being on this ship.” He glanced at her again. “And honestly, you know you can call me Curly, right? Jimmy does it, my friends back on Earth called me that too. At this point we’ve gotten pretty vulnerable with each other over the past few days.”

“Okay, C-urly. Maybe not on duty, but right now it doesn’t sound too bad.” (Y/N) was praying that the glow from the screen concealed her hot and flushed face. After these past few days of getting to know the captain a bit better, it was so easy for feelings to snowball. Brushing the fluttery feeling she had aside, she stood up. “I think I’m going to head to bed now. I hope you’ll do the same, Curly. Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

After he heard the door shut quietly, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, giving the display screen one last look before getting up and going to bed himself.

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

Thanks for reading! Give me a few days and I'll be back. Cheers!

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader #anya mouthwashing

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mejaemin · 1 day ago

Text

who cooked here?- na jaemin

wc: 1k

summary: jaemin wants to pick your next nail design, but why the sudden interest?

warnings: crack, fem reader, getting nails done, suggestive themes at the end

an: maybe the nail tech in me felt like yapping a little about my knowledge because i wrote this in like 40 minutes which never happens.. anyways the design nana picked is the middle photo !!

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it’s been two weeks since your last set, and honestly you hadn’t really paid attention to how they were holding on because of how busy you were. thankfully, you didn’t have to worry too much because jaemin definitely noticed.

you were sitting in the mall’s food court with your boyfriend, sharing a plate of food while you took a short break from walking. you’re about to reach for another bite when jaemin grabs your hand, gasping as he calls your name. with an unfazed look, you wait for him to share what he’s so shell shocked over.

“angel.. your nails are so grown out.” he turns your fingers that rest in his palm, examining the old and grown out design.

you playfully roll your eyes. “i can’t really afford to re-do them right now, so i’ve just been waiting for them to come off.”

jaemin softly shakes his head, looking up at you. “you really should’ve said something. i mean, i would’ve paid for you to fill them, get something cute put on. i still will, but- what’s that look for?”

with a raised eyebrow at the fact that he knows what a fill is, you shake your head and gesture for him to continue.

“well anyways, i’ll pay for your next appointment because you look so cute when you have your cute little designs on there right? and the babies seem to like it too when you scratch them with them on.”

with your free hand you pull out your phone and begin messaging your nail tech about another appointment. thankfully, they’re free two days from now so they ask for a design. “well.. since you like them so much, what design should i get? i just asked my nail tech and we’ve set a date but i need to send a design.”

at this jaemin perks up, his signature smile showing as he grabs his own phone and begins scrolling. “i’ve been waiting for this for so long, you have no idea. so first, i was thinking you could get almond because you just did square ones. and of course, i already saved a photo and the design is a pink one. everyone’s gonna know i picked it out for you.”

he pulls up the photo he saved of his design of choice and flips the phone over to you. “it’s cute right? i love how there’s chrome and the pearls are almost in the shape of a french tip. they would look really good on you. what do you think?” he smiles, looking at you expectantly.

it was hard to tell whether to laugh or cry at your boyfriend’s knowledge on nail art terms, your jaw dropping a little more the longer he talked about his design. obviously there’s nothing wrong with him learning about such things, but it’s a little random since you never shared them with him and he hasn’t expressed an interest in them at all.

you pulled yourself out of your thoughts to finally respond, “sure, they’re cute and we can do that, but why the fuck do you know so much about nail art?” you ask, letting out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“oh! well i remember i came and watched when i took you to get them done for your birthday and it looked cool so i looked it up a little and learned some about it because i wanted to pick for you one day.” he explains simply, leaving his photos app and showing you his tiktok search history which was full of ‘nail art’ ‘pink nails’ ‘cute nail art’ ‘nail art tutorial’. when you look back up at him you see his flushed cheeks and his gaze set off into the distance.

“that’s so cute nana, of course we can do your design. thanks for taking the time to learn about this stuff for me.”

he huffs, leaning back in his chair. “please, any good boyfriend would learn about the topics you care about. and this is nothing. you should’ve seen the lengths i went to before we met so i could find something to talk to you about..” before you can question him, he takes a forkful of the food you were sharing and pushes it into your mouth.

—

when the time for the appointment comes, jaemin’s elated and absolutely begs to come with you. your nail tech was a little apprehensive being that they had policies about visitors but he swore he wouldn’t talk the entire time so you were able to come to an agreement and brought him along.

the nail appointment starts and jaemin is sitting next to you, watching intently as your old design gets filed off and your new growth gets prepped. thankfully he stays true to his word and keeps quiet, but when you look at him you can see the gears turning as he studies the tech’s techniques.

once the nails are filled and have been shaped correctly, his smile grows as they begin being painted and his photo starts coming to life. he’s not being necessarily disruptive but he does start asking questions about the process and is truly watching in awe as your nail tech replicates the design with ease.

once the set is done, jaemin pays for the set and you leave. it makes you laugh how he’s nearly more excited than you are with the outcome, with your fingers locked and his hand swinging yours back and forth. once you leave the nail studio he lifts your intertwined fingers and begins snapping photos of your new set with a bright smile. once done, he lifts the phone camera up to your face, recording a video.

“so, angel.. i may have lied a bit about why i researched all this nail stuff and im ready to tell the truth now.” his smile turns into a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“don’t tell me, na jaemin, that you were talking to other females about this stuff or i swear-“

“no, no! i promise it’s not bad. just listen.” he laughs before continuing. “i really do think the designs are cute and i did want to pick one out just for fun.. but i also really wanted you to re-do them just because a fresh set on you looks so hot when you wrap your hands around my-“

“oh my god jaemin shut up!”

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#mejaemin #nct #nct dream #na jaemin #nct jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x you #jaemin x you #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream jaemin #jaemin nct #jaemin nct dream #jaemin

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dude-why-3 · 24 hours ago

Text

Who painted the sky?

Chapter 21: Stolen Goods

When she opens the front door fifteen minutes later, Annie finds Armin leaning by the camp van, trailer attached. He’s wearing his green hoodie, hands buried in its pockets, a smile plastered on his face. She suddenly feels extremely underdressed, the pair of shorts and white shirt she’s hurriedly thrown on doing nothing to keep her warm against the chill of the night. Annie narrows her eyes and Armin’s smile grows.

2.45am

Armin: u up?

Annie: no

Armin: lovely

Armin: do you trust me?

Annie: depends on the day

Armin: meet me outside in 15

Annie: what for?

Armin: just trust me!!

“What’s that?” She gestures towards the van and crosses her arms against her chest in an attempt to keep herself warm.

“A surprise,” Armin beams. He steps aside and opens the passenger door, holding it open for her. “Do you still trust me?”

Annie presses her lips together for a second, considering her possibilities. Then she sighs loudly. “My trust is thinning by the second,” she finally says.

Armin’s laugh pierces through her ears as she gets on the passenger seat and secures her seatbelt. Armin wastes no time in getting behind the wheel and starting the car.

“Did you even ask Hannah before taking her van?” Annie asks as they back out of the parking lot and onto the street.

Armin slowly stops and checks both left and right before continuing, though Annie’s pretty sure that’s a one way street anyway.

“I’ll bring it back by the morning, she won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Annie studies his features very closely. He keeps his eyes focused on the road, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands maneuvering the wheel with ease. And he drives so slowly, Annie can’t decide if he’s just being mindful of her or actually doesn’t usually go over thirty-five kilometers per hour.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?”

“If you ask nicely,” he teases, turning the radio on.

Instead of music, they’re met with the morning news read in such a monotone voice it could put them both to sleep. Armin turns it off again. Annie stares at him, her eyes narrowed, lips pressed together. She crosses her arms over her chest, not saying a word. She can see him tense up under her stare, he steals a tiny glance at her and she raises an eyebrow, demanding an explanation.

He looks back at the road, a smile slightly pulling on his lips. As if he were proud of this whole ordeal.

“We kind of stole the canoes,” he finally says, in such a casual tone that you’d think he does it on a daily basis.

Annie’s blood boils. “What?!”

“We’ll bring them back!” he defends.

“Armin, why would you steal the canoes? And at this hour!”

“I thought it’d be fun!”

“You thought stealing someone else’s property would be fun?!”

Armin laughs nervously. “Believe it or not, I actually have a plan.”

Annie raises an eyebrow at him. “Let’s hear your plan then.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you–”

“Armin, I will kick you out and drive this car back to camp myself if you don’t tell me what we’re doing on the road, at three in the morning, with someone else’s canoes,” Annie threatens, in the most imposing voice she can master.

Armin sighs heavily. “I thought it’d be quite romantic to go canoeing at night and stargaze and, I don’t know, just spend time together.” He steals another glance at her., shrugging helplessly, his complexion pinking up. “And you seemed sad that you couldn’t come canoeing this week and missed out on all the fun, so I thought this might cheer you up.”

“And you thought involving theft would make it more fun?”

“Kinda?”

“I–” She finds nothing to say, her mouth agape as she stares at him in astonishment, yet her face is getting warmer by the second.

She covers her mouth with her palm, staring at him with big eyes, her chest growing warmer. Her lips arch up then, and she snorts at the idea of it all. Her giggles turn into a laugh, and she finds herself bending over and holding her stomach, not able to stop her laughing fit.

Armin steals a glance at her as she keeps laughing and nervously chuckles. “I’m not sure if I should be scared or laugh with you,” he admits.

Annie takes a deep breath in, trying to calm down her laughter. “Gosh, Armin, you’re so stupid, I love you.” Her voice sounds breathless, then she breaks into giggles again.

Armin‘s eyes widen. He remains quiet, his cheeks growing pink. He swallows the lump in his throat, allowing himself to sit with her words for a few seconds as she keeps chuckling. His lips unknowingly curve up at the sound, the oh so adorable sound.

“I love you, too,” he quietly says, eyes focused on the road.

He smoothly takes a turn to the left and enters a portion of the road that’s more lit, for he can see the trees on either side of the road more clearly now.

Annie’s laughter soon ceases. She wipes a tear from her eye, then turns to him with a big smile. “What was that?”

He’s almost disappointed that she didn’t hear– but maybe it’s for the better. He shakes his head as if to chase the thought away, pushing a little smile on. He clears his throat.

“I’ll put on some music.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, opens the music app and clicks on a song, then hands the phone to Annie. She connects it to the aux.

Low piano tunes start playing as he starts the car again, followed by a little harmonica solo, then Piano Man fills the car.

The two are quiet as the song follows its course, the car rolling down the empty road. Annie steals a glance at Armin, trying to read his mind, hoping he’d return her glance and find her eyes and smile at her, that sweet smile of his that always calms her nerves– but he doesn’t. He did so the whole ride as she was fishing for answers out of him, and now he’s so focused on the road he won’t spare her another look.

"The aux is all yours if you want to put anything on," Armin says.

Annie considers it for a moment.

"Sure," she mutters. "But my phone's almost dead."

"You can use mine."

"Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Annie smiles shortly and picks his phone up, already having a song in mind.

"The password is ema-eight-six-four."

Annie hums as she types it in. She's already on the music app when the phone unlocks.

"Who's Ema?" she asks, typing the song's name in the search bar.

Armin visibly tenses, his eyes growing wider, his jaw clenching. "It's not a name."

Annie raises a curious brow. She finds the song and clicks on it, soft guitar tunes echoing through the car, followed shortly by equally soft words, and First Day of my Life makes itself at home.

"What is it then?"

He doesn't say anything for a long second. Annie blinks once, twice, tilting her head at his profile, trying to read his mind.

"It's an acronym."

"Oh." Annie's silent for a while, letting the song play on. "What does it stand for?"

Armin steals a glance at her. His fingers grip the wheel tighter. "A is for my name. Armin. M stands for Mikasa."

He goes quiet again, as if considering his next words. Annie nods along, her curiosity growing bigger. E must stand for their other friend he keeps mentioning. She doesn't remember Armin ever mentioning his name before, despite talking about the two all the time. She wonders why. Armin always pictured him as such a good friend, yet he's never mentioned his name. Yet he seems to get sadder whenever he mentions him.

"And E stands for Eren," Armin finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “He…” Armin trails back, then takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, as if chasing tears away. “He was– He is my best friend.”

Pressing her lips together, Annie looks over at him– his frown, his clenched jaw, his fingers turning white on the steering wheel. His eyes focused ahead and only ahead, as if not seeing anything beyond that.

Annie tilts her head. “Was? Did you two have a fight or something?”

Armin opens his mouth but then closes it again. “Oh, no, I could never fight him.” A sad smile makes its way onto his lips. He loosens his grip on the steering wheel. “He always did whatever he wanted, fighting him would have been futile.”

Annie furrows her brows. It was always the past tense with Eren, as if– oh.

Oh, no.

Annie’s eyes widen in realization, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together.

Armin takes a deep breath in, as if to calm himself. “He is my best friend,” he says again, this time more content. He brings the car to a stop, and only now does Annie realize they’ve reached the canoeing spot. “He went missing a few months ago. The police searched for him, we searched for him, but then his birthday came around, he became a legal adult, and they stopped looking. Now he’s just… missing.”

Annie bites her lips, her eyes wide. “I… don’t know what to say.”

The boy nods slightly. After a moment of silence, Armin takes a deep breath in, letting it out through his mouth slowly, then takes his seat belt off and flashes her a smile. “Let’s go canoeing, shall we?”

Annie hesitates for a second, uncertain of whether this is the right thing to do or she should say something. She’s not sure what– sorries would do nothing to make it all better, she knows that much. The blonde eventually nods, and they get out of the car. She comes around the car and, standing on her tippy toes, wraps her arms around his neck.

"I'd tell you that I'm sorry, but I doubt that would help," Annie says, tightening her embrace.

Armin lets out a huff. He puts his arms around her and rests his chin on her shoulder. "It's fine," he whispers.

Silence falls over them for a moment, the water’s constant running and the owls’ occasional booing the only sounds in the valley. Armin’s arms soften around her, his eyes fluttering close as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His heart beats against her chest, and hers against his, and for a second she thinks that this is the closest they’ve ever been.

Then, "I'm sorry," Annie says.

Armin huffs a short laugh, tickling her skin. "You're right, that doesn't do shit."

Annie scoffs a little herself. "I know!"

He takes her hand and helps her into the canoe, and she settles on one of the benches.

Armin allows himself to enjoy Annie's warmth for a second more before he parts from her.

The two open the trailer and take one of the many canoes out. Once they settle it on the shore, they decide to leave their shoes in the car, since they'll have to get in the water to push the canoe anyway.

Just as he’s about to join her, Armin’s eyes widen as if he had just remembered something, and he asks her to wait just a moment before he dashes to the car. Annie tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed– this is getting weirder by the second.

He’s back in no time, a backpack swung over his shoulder. He tosses it into the canoe and it lands with a boof, sounding rather heavy; it even looks stuffed, round on the sides, as if it were bearing heavy luggage. Annie’s frown deepens at the sight of the mysterious bag, wondering what he might have brought in it, but the boy seems not to notice her confusion. He pushes the canoe into the water and jumps in and settles on the bench in front of her.

“What’s in the backpack?” she questions, taking the paddle he’s holding out for her.

“Oh, just some snacks,” he smiles, slapping his paddle in the water.

Annie does the same, not ceasing her questionnaire. The paddles rhythmically hit the water, one in, one out, one in, one out, creating a splashing sound, the calm water only disturbed by them and the occasional fish jumping around.

“Snacks? What for?”

Armin scoffs. “You’re really not into surprises, are you?”

Annie sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’m not fond of them,” she admits.

Armin hums. “Okay,” he says, his voice soft. “We never got to have our picnic,” he says.

Annie hums in understanding– they didn’t, the consoulers were tasked to clean the children’s dorm on the weekend the two of them had planned it, and they never got around to rescheduling it.

“So, I thought we could have it now. We could stop on that little island and stargaze and eat snacks.”

Annie takes a moment to consider the idea, a smile involuntarily raising to her lips, her face warming. He really thought this through, huh? She wouldn’t have ever thought she was worthy of so much thought and consideration, yet here he is, having planned an entire night adventure for her just because she seemed sad to have missed the canoeing.

“Ok, we can do that,” she finally says. “I’d love that.”

“Good.”

The moon shines high above them, reflecting in the water, only allowing Annie to briefly see Armin's face– but even then, she can tell apart the red on his face, the sheepish smile on his lips, and the somehow determined look in his eyes. His eyes, searching hers so intensely, she can feel her own cheeks warm up, the tips of her ears catching fire, and she's sure he can see it too, for his smile boardens.

He puts his paddle on the floor of the canoe with a click, causing the canoe to slow down. Annie does the same, following his movements, squinting her eyes to get a better look at what he’s doing. Armin brings the backpack closer to himself, unzips it, and starts rummaging through its contents. He eventually retrieves a bag of chips, a victorious expression on his face.

He opens it and thrusts it towards her. "Chips?"

“I thought we were supposed to have the picnic on the island.”

“We can have some snacks now too,” he shrugs, popping a chip in his mouth.

Annie leans forward, careful not to dip the canoe at any end, and grabs a handful of chips, popping them in her mouth one by one. He’s chosen the cheese flavoured ones– her favourite. He insists on sharing them, yet he lets her have the most.

Once the chips are no more, Annie wipes her hands on her shorts. As Armin puts the empty bag away, she picks up her paddle.

But Armin doesn’t do the same. Instead, he just stares at her, a dumb smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling with a kind of softness she finds foreign. Way too foreign.

Annie frowns. "What?"

Armin opens his mouth but then bites his lip. Then he smiles again. "You're beautiful," he says, his voice barely above a whisper as if not to disturb her beauty. He says it like a secret needing to be kept, as if the world could not handle it had he spoken any louder. As if her beauty were something to be protected.

Annie’s eyes widen briefly. She freezes in her tracks, hand frozen midair. If her face wasn’t pink before, she’s sure it’s bright red now, for even her ears have caught fire. She falters, her hands growing weak, and almost drops the paddle in the water, but thankfully manages to catch it in time, bending over the edge of the canoe, dipping her hand in the water in the process.

Annie’s lips press together as she watches him try to catch his breath. He seems to calm down at some point, then starts laughing even harder.

Armin presses his lips together as if trying not to laugh, a soft snicker still escaping his lips.

Then he bursts into laughter.

"I paid you a compliment and you just– you dropped the paddle, An!" he manages to say between laughs and hiccups, clutching his stomach.

Biting her lips, Annie looks away, her face so hot it feels like it’s going to explode. She listens as Armin tries to calm down, taking a deep breath in, her eyes focused on the moon’s reflection on the water. It’s a full moon, so shiny and beautiful that not even its own reflection in the water seems to do it justice.

Suddenly, an idea morphs into her mind, and she forgets all about her embarrassment. She turns towards Armin, who ceased his laughter and picked up his paddle. Seeing the look on her face, his expression morphes into one of curiosity, his eyebrow arched.

“Let's go for a swim,” Annie says, taking even herself by surprise.

Armin's eyes widen. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?” he asks again, a smile blossoming on his lips.

Annie rolls her eyes, smirking to herself. “Yes, Armin, right now. Or do you not know how to swim?”

“Of course I know how to swim,” he says, his voice sounding almost offended.

Annie laughs again and sets her paddle on the floor of the canoe once more. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up and over her head, remaining in only her black sports bra. Her skin shivers at the sudden contact with the night cold.

“What are you waiting for then?” she teases even further.

She folds her shirt and her shorts and places them safely on the bench, then tentatively stands up, scanning the water with her eyes, trying to decide whether she should actually do it or not. She closes her eyes, swallows hard, and jumps in without another thought.

The water is so cold when she touches it, it makes her skin shiver. As she emerges from the water and moves her now wet hair out of her face, Annie wishes she wouldn’t have been so reckless. She looks up at Armin, who's staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face, something like surprise mixed with delight, his smile growing wider. Annie finds herself mirroring it.

“Armin, come in!”

His hands go to the hem of his shirt, his eyes never leaving her. He pulls it over his head, and Annie turns around, feeling her face warm up at the mere thought of seeing Armin naked.

Shortly after, she hears a splash as he jumps into the river, followed closely by a small shriek.

“You didn’t tell me it’d be this cold!”

Annie laughs shortly, finally looking up at him. Before she gets the chance to take a good look at him, arms wrap around her waist, and she’s being pushed under the cold, cold water, letting out a shrill of surprise.

The two sink under the surface. Annie’s eyes widen in surprise, a bubble of air escaping her lips; her hands instinctively go to his arms and clutch his flesh, holding on for dear life. She only catches a glimpse of Armin’s shit eating grin before she’s pushed out of the water, his grip tighter around her waist. The cold hits her in the face, the hairs on her arms raising at the sudden change of temperature. She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, both in an attempt to ground herself to something and get warmer, his skin against hers extremely hot. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, his shoulders shaking with laughter, but his arms are wrapped securely around her waist– although Annie’s not sure if she is clinging to him or the other way around.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, but her voice is breaking into laughter too.

Armin tries to answer, but just as he’s about to open his mouth, he’s splashed with water right in the face, making him recoil. Annie giggles shortly at the look on his face, her head feeling suddenly very light, her chest warm– and once again, she wonders what kind of spells he’s put on her to make her feel like this so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

She moves his wet hair out of his forehead, wanting to see his face better, and his eyes pierce through hers as soon as she does, shining in the dim moonlight. It illuminates them so beautifully, makes their blue even brighter, more intense, and she finds herself drowning into them, so, so deep, as if he were inviting her into his soul, laying it bare for her to discover. His touch is gentle on her skin, his warmth and heat sheltering her from the cold of the night.

Annie parts her lips slightly, then presses them together, afraid that the wrong words would come out. A hint of confusion passes Armin’s eyes as he searches her face. Annie looks away, denying the thought, overly aware that she could not hold back if she looked at him any longer, that she shouldn’t, for the summer is almost over, and if she hasn’t until now, why would she allow herself to fall now–

“Annie,” he says her name in a whisper, like a sacred relic that should be preserved and protected from the rest of the world.

She closes her eyes, furrows her brows. She shouldn’t, she knows she shouldn’t, but the dam is slowly, slowly breaking, the water overflowing, threatening to spill over.

A warm hand touches her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, and widen even more when she finds Armin staring back at her, his eyes so comforting, the smile on his lips reassuring, letting her know that if she falls he will be right next to her and hold her hand through it all, making the crash softer.

His lips part.

But before he gets the chance to say anything, she makes up her mind. She gathers every ounce of courage she has left in her, and she grabs his face in her hands, and she wants to tell him that she does love him, and she wished their time together would never end but it will end, and they will part ways, and she’d be damned if she let the time pass without doing something about this fire he’s ignited in her, and–

Before she knows it, her lips brush against his. Her lashes flutter against his cheek, his eyes equally as surprised, and she closes her eyes, tentatively places a hand on his jaw, and-

Armin pulls her closer to him, placing his hand firmly on the small of her back, bringing the other to her face, moving a strand of hair behind her ear before tangling his fingers in her hair. A sigh escapes Annie’s lips as she slowly moves her lips against his, sending a shudder down Armin’s spine– and he’s not sure what takes over him, but he’s suddenly kissing her so hungrily, moving his lips against hers with such need, bringing her closer, closer, as close as he physically can. Annie slightly parts her lips, and Armin wastes no time in taking the invitation, sneaking his tongue past her lips– and she allows it, and she tilts her head back a little, and he takes her all in, his kiss sending shivers through every particle of her body. The cold slowly disperses, the moon shining brighter even, and as their lips dance together and Armin's hand moves slightly up on her back, making her skin burn, she wonders why she hasn’t allowed herself the luxury of kissing him this freely before.

Something cold and slick suddenly touches her leg, moving along it. Annie yelps, breaking away from her lover, and dips in the water, her eyes widening in panic when she realizes she's going down, Armin’s support suddenly gone.

It takes the boy a solid second to come to his senses, grab her arms, and pull her up. Annie takes a deep breath of air when she finds herself not drowning anymore, clinging to his arms for dear life.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice alert.

He squeezes her forearms in his hands, which feels weirdly grounding, and her body slightly relaxes. But the nagging feeling that something has touched her sends shivers down her spine.

“Something touched my leg!”

“What?”

Annie runs a hand down her face, moves her hair out of her eyes, and wipes her head around, squinting her eyes at the water, trying to see what it was, but the dark won’t allow her to.

“I swear something touched my leg,” she says, eyes still squinted.

Armin blinks at her once, twice, looks down in the water as if searching it too. “Maybe it was a fish,” he offers, “there are fish in the river.”

He looks up at her, a smile starting to pull at his lips, his eyes slightly squinted as if trying to see her better. His hands still holding her by the arms burn through her skin, her face warms up, she feels it in her ears even.

“Probably,” she mutters, lowering her gaze.

Armin smiles softly. His hands leave her elbows then, yet her skin continues to burn, and the boy swims away. Annie narrows her eyes before diving right in and swimming after him. But he’s faster than her, five feet ahead, and he doesn’t look like he'd slow down. He turns around only briefly, to catch a glimpse of her, his smile widening when he does so, then he turns away and disappears under the water. Annie takes a good look at the spot where he previously was, takes a deep breath of air in, and dives into the water.

When she opens her eyes, Annie finds Armin already looking at her, a big smile plastered on his lips. He extends his hand forward, showing her his palm, and she puts her own palm out, paralleling his, extending her fingers so she can touch each of his fingers, and lays her palm flat on his. A bubble of air leaves her lips when she smiles. A similar one leaves Armin’s when he mirrors her. He interlocks his fingers with hers, holding her hand delicately, his smile widening. In the dim light of the moon and the stars shining above them, with his hair floating around his head and the kindest look on his face, Armin looks absolutely beautiful, taking her breath away.

Without letting go of her hand, Armin swims up and breaks the water’s surface, pulling her with him.

There’s a big smile on his face when Annie faces him again, and she finds herself mirroring it. He’s looking at her with sparkling eyes, and she’s thankful for the dark, for it provides some sort of shelter from the intensity of his gaze– she’s pretty sure she would have melted right away had he looked at her that way in broad daylight.

“This is so fun!” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

Annie lets out a chuckle. “It really is!”

“I love you!”

“What?

“I said I love you!”

Annie’s eyes widen, she feels her face burn. Her heart skips a beat, beating so fast that it threatens to burst out of her chest. Yet her muscles relax, a big smile pulling on her lips.

“No, I heard you, I was just giving you an out!”

Armin laughs, throwing his head back, the crystalline sound echoing beautifully through the valley.

“I don’t need an out, I love you! I have loved you for so long it hurts, Annie.”

The girl takes in a deep breath, trying to calm down her nerves, trying to calm down her racing heart, trying to cool down her burning skin– but she can’t. The effect his words have on her entire being is impossible to undo.

Before she knows it, the words that have been itching on the tip of her tongue for so many weeks finally set free. “I love you, too.”

Armin’s eyes widen then, and his lips part slightly. He gazes at her with a look she doesn’t quite understand. Annie bites her bottom lip, suddenly very aware of herself and her surroundings and the cold of the night, and his eyes on her, bubbling with questions he doesn’t seem to want to ask, the water splashing against their bodies softly. But she doesn’t regret saying it– she’s been wanting to say it for so long, she’s been wanting him to hear her say it for so long.

His face flashes pink, so bright it’s visible through the dark of the night. “You do?”

Annie giggles, floating closer to him and cupping his face in her palm, holding it so gingerly. “Of course I do,” she whispers, resting her forehead against his.

She grazes his cheek with her thumb, searching his eyes curiously. He slowly raises his arms around her, resting his hands on the small of her back, and tugs her closer, until there’s no room between them even for the water. Very slowly, Armin brings his lips to hers and kisses her, much softer and much shorter than he did earlier, as if to seal their newfound love.

Then he parts away, a soft smile resting on his lips, and buries his face in the crook of her neck, eliciting a little giggle from Annie.

“We should get going,” she mutters, threading her fingers through his hair.

He shakes his head, tickling the skin on her neck. “Not yet.”

Annie hums, resting her cheek against the side of his head. “It’s getting colder,” she warns. “Your lips will turn purple.”

But he says nothing, only tightening his hold on her. Annie sighs.

“I can’t kiss you if your lips fall off.”

Armin scoffs lightly. He looks up at her, meeting her eyes with such a serene look on his face. “Alright,” he mutters.

He kisses her cheek, then takes her hand in his and tugs her away. They help each other back in the canoe and take their assigned seats on the benches, facing each other. Armin rummages through his backpack and produces a yellow towel out of it.

Annie snorts. “You really thought of it all, didn’t you?”

Armin leans forward and places the towel on her head, gathering her hair and squeezing it gently. “I like planning my surprises thoroughly,” he smiles, massaging her scalp.

Annie’s face warms up. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

He drops the towel on her shoulders. Annie hastily dabs the water away from her body and returns it to him with a thankful smile. She hastily puts her shirt back on, then watches Armin do the same. He puts the towel aside. They soon start paddling again, the canoe drifting through the night slowly and surely.

Once they make it to their usual stoppage spot for their picnic, and pull the canoe up to the shore, Annie is not surprised to see Armin pull out a blanket either. He did say he likes planning his surprises to the smallest detail. They spread it out and seal the corners with pebbles to make sure it’s secure.

As Armin takes out everything he’s prepared for the picnic, Annie rubs her hands together in an attempt to chase the cold away. Her eyes follow his every move, watching patiently and he unpacks cookies and casseroles of fruit, and paper cups. Once it’s all laid out, Armin stands up with a proud smile to admire his work. His eyes meet hers, and his smile momentarily falters.

“Are you alright?”

Annie nods thoroughly. “Yeah, just a bit cold. Don’t worry about it,” she hurries to add, still rubbing her hands together.

Armin shrugs his hoodie off and holds it out for her. “Here,” he says.

Annie presses her lips together. She can’t possibly take it, and leave him in only a t-shirt.

Armin sighs. He takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them, and drapes it around her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down as if to prompt her to put it on properly. “I can’t have you get sick again.”

Annie eventually does as she’s told, slipping her arms through the sleeves. She already feels better, the warmth of his hoodie engulfing her. She rests her forehead against his shoulder then, hiding her burning face from his gaze. Armin laughs softly, bringing a hand to her head and gently running his fingers through her damp locks.

His skin is warm, and his heart is beating so loudly she can hear it, and soon their heartbeats and their breathing sync.

He retrieves his hand from her hair, nudging her shoulder slightly.

“Annie, look up,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were holding his breath.

Annie complies, looking up at him with a small frown. But he’s not looking at her, his head tilted up towards the sky. A whimsical smile is resting on his lips, his eyes sparkling with wonder.

Curiosity takes the best of her. She straightens up, his arm falls from around her, yet his hand bruises against hers, and she finds it in herself to take a hold of it, wrapping her fingers around his much bigger and much warmer ones. She follows his gaze, and looks up.

The view Annie’s met with is mesmerizing: thousands of little, sparky stars light up the night sky, blinding her, reminding her of a life she’s never lived, in which the stars belong to her and the sky is her canvas. It is so beautiful, she has to pinch her skin to make sure it's even real. A billion stars shine above them, the full moon throning in the middle of them, illuminating the river and the valley.

A shooting star falls so fast, she almost thinks she dreamed it up, were it not for Armin marveling at the sight and pointing up to show it to her. A smile pulls on her lips, and she feels at peace, standing there with his hoodie around her shoulders, with his hand holding hers, admiring the world around them.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” she mutters, somehow afraid she might disturb the serenity of the stars. "Who painted it?"

His eyes lock on hers, a smile playing on his lips. "Hmm?"

"The sky. It looks like a painting." Annie's lips curl up as she leans her head against Armin’s shoulder again. "Who painted the sky?"

He takes a moment to consider, his eyes going up once more. He watches the sparkling dots patiently, trying to make out the shapes of constellations, his hold on Annie's hand tightening only slightly.

"I don't know," he finally says. "But I'm sure they painted it for you."

She hums lightly, a cue of red spreading in her cheeks, looking up once more. Her eyes hover over the sky a little longer before settling on one star, and a little idea pops up in her mind.

She points up. “See that one blue-ish star that shines a little brighter than the rest?”

Armin’s gaze follows her finger and he nods slightly.

“I’ll name it after you,” she whispers.

His eyes light up, he wraps both of his arms around her and buries his face in the crook of her neck. A light giggle escapes Annie’s lips as she pats his hair.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” A thought forms then, and, however cheesy it might sound, she voices it out. “That’s Armin, the star that lights my way.”

#who painted the sky?#wpts #aruani #aruani fic #armin x annie

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emmg · 2 days ago

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WIP whenever

because @heylittleriotact uno reverse'd me lmfao

bc grading essays is overrated, so here’s a lil’ something from the ridiculous fic I’m forcing my keyboard to suffer through. Plot? Absolutely none. Just Emmrook going on “dates” (and like also… smutty dates) suggested by the other clowns haunting the Lighthouse. This one’s SUPPOSED to end in a coffee date—because Lucanis—but I haven't written that yet lol

Honestly, it’s like… smut-crackfic with necromancy puns that should be punishable by law. I keep saying I’ll write a serious Emmrich one day, but let’s be real, that day isn’t today

Anyway, title? Don’t have one. I'm just throwing a bunch of dashes and slapping a read-more right before it gets too long so it doesn't invade anyone's dash

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

It’s the most absurd scene. Like, truly bonkers.

She hovers in the doorway, conveniently camouflaged by shadows, because though the cringe levels are searing her soul, she simply cannot look away. It’s like watching a runaway cart barreling downhill, if said cart was cobbled together with blissful ignorance and top-tier ineptitude.

There, crammed onto Harding and Neve’s favorite tiny sofa, are Lucanis and Emmrich. And they’re... talking? Sort of? It’s the most agonizing conversation she’s ever been subjected to, and that’s saying something. Lucanis is flailing his hands around, using them more than words, trying to drive home whatever point he’s failing spectacularly to make. Meanwhile, Emmrich, ever the dignified one, has one leg crossed so neatly over the other that it creates this little triangle of space that she suddenly wants to crawl into and hide from the embarrassment radiating off both of them.

"You see," Lucanis laments, his fingers forming that universal gesture of the confused and the desperate, “we went for coffee. But she, well, threw it back. Like a shot of spirits. It was not just any brew. This was from the frost-bitten slopes of the Vimmark Mountains. A dark roast with notes of juniper and just a hint of wild honey. You don’t just drink something like that—you experience it.” He shakes his head. “Her focus was all on that new case file, instead. And fish. Fried fish."

Emmrich nods along thoughtfully. “I understand. However, if I may be so bold, Lucanis, have you perhaps thought of discussing something besides coffee? A change of topic might open new avenues.”

"I did offer to sharpen her knives."

“Knives,” Emmrich repeats, as though weighing the term’s philosophical import. “And… Neve is known to possess a significant collection of blades?”

“No,” says Lucanis, flat as a pancake.

“Ah,” Emmrich replies, offering a sage nod. A wise and knowing “ah,” as if that somehow clarified things. "An unusual approach, then."

Desperate to claw himself out of this conversational pit, Lucanis asks, “Well, what is it you and Rook… do?” He stumbles over the words, as though simply asking has exhausted his entire social skill set for the year.

And now, it’s Emmrich’s turn to squirm. She can almost see his moustache twitching, wishing it could detach itself from his face and make a run for the hills. He looks away, frowning slightly, as though consulting some vast internal library.

They don’t go on dates. Please. Not even the hilariously doomed sort that Lucanis somehow subjected Neve to. For one, neither of them has the time for candlelit strolls with the world about to be ripped apart by blighted elven gods strutting around like they own the place.

Usually, she just pops into his room and fucks him while he pontificates about the finer points of romance. Oh, she always lets him go on for a hot minute, but once her lips are on his throat and her hands start wandering further south, he finally gets the hint, and that highbrow nonsense about “dignified courtship” goes straight out the window.

Emmrich, after clearing his throat, finally answers, "We discuss books."

From her shadow, she snorts. He's not wrong, technically. Just the other night, she had perched in his lap while he was reading some dry treatise on Fade energy attunement and the properties of dawnstone. He’d even launched into a detailed explanation while she kissed her way down his jaw and neck, hardly deterred by the lecture. Finally, when her hand wandered beneath his shirt, Emmrich, after a brief struggle to finish his monologue, allowed the tome to tumble from his grip.

So yes, “discussing books” might be accurate, but it’s hardly the whole story. And yet here sits Emmrich, steadfast in his scholarly pride, while Lucanis looks ready to take a long walk off a very short pier. She’s not sure which of them is more tragic.

“Hm,” says Lucanis, apparently having reached the absolute zenith of his conversational abilities.

“Ah,” Emmrich replies, with all the enthusiasm of someone describing mildew yet also, somehow, managing to sound very polite about it.

She saunters over to break this pathetic monotony of wall-staring both are currently engaged in.

“My dear,” Emmrich perks up, relief flooding his face as though she’s just rescued him from the depths of some social hell. His voice is full of that charming lilt he uses when he’s desperate to salvage his dignity.

He makes a half-hearted attempt to stand, all dignified and well-bred, but she waves him off with a lazy hand, signalling him to stay seated. And stay he does. Without missing a beat, she slides into his lap, practically draping herself sideways over him, arms winding around his neck. He tenses for a moment, exhales in resignation, but eventually gives in, one hand resting at the small of her back, fingers just barely grazing the line between respectable and… well, decidedly not.

“I hate when you do that,” Lucanis snarls from across the sofa, jabbing a finger at her.

“Yes, it’s not very proper,” Emmrich says with solemnity, though he’s showing absolutely zero signs of protest about her whole backside pressing against him.

With a serene, mischievous grin, she stretches her legs, casually extending them until they’re firmly invading Lucanis’ personal space.

“Mierda,” he grumbles, swatting at her ankle with all the fervor of a cat being swiped at by an annoying feather. “Rook.”

She just grins that beautifully infuriating grin. “Go back to your pantry, Lucanis,” she says sweetly, her tone one of pure, serene malice. “The gouda is getting lonely.”

Lucanis stalks off, glowering as if he’d chuck a knife at her head if he had one in hand. And she’s fairly sure he would.

She blows him a kiss. He shows her the middle finger. They’ll have coffee in the morning.

Meanwhile, Emmrich, ever the portrait of indulgent patience, looks up at her from his cozy place beneath her with a satisfied hum. “How was your day, darling?”

“Good,” she sighs, stretching further until her legs are practically colonizing whatever’s left of Lucanis’ side of the sofa. “Yours?”

Emmrich raises an eyebrow. Makes a contemplative sound deep in his throat. “Enlightening. Lucanis and I were just having… an intriguing discussion.”

“Oh?” she purrs, eyes glinting. “About what, pray tell?”

“Courtship,” he says, savoring the word as though it were some priceless artifact he’s just dusted off from an ancient shelf.

She smirks. “I’m sure you gave him absolutely riveting advice.”

“I certainly tried.” He heaves a great sigh, even rolls a shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Though, I fear our preferred methods diverge.”

“‘Preferred methods’?” she echoes, giving his thigh a playful squeeze. “Do enlighten me.”

Emmrich gives her a look that’s half-scholar, half-sufferer. “Well, I fancy a touch of romance, some… sentimentality, if you will. And Lucanis…”

“And Lucanis?” she goads.

“His idea of a grand romantic gesture involves… knives,” he finishes with a sigh of pure exasperation.

She can’t hold back the snort that escapes. “I mean, yeah, it’s Lucanis. Did you expect anything different?” She presses a little closer, trouble dancing in her eyes. “But for what it’s worth, I do love talking about books with you… so very much.”

Emmrich doesn’t miss a beat, a hint of sarcasm curling his lips. “So I’ve gathered.”

“Tell me more about your books, Emmrich,” she coos, batting her eyelashes with all the enthusiasm of a third-rate actress in a chintzy Orlesian play.

“If you’re genuinely interested, I would gladly oblige.”

“Oh, I’m interested,” she purrs, lowering her voice to a husky whisper. “In you talking… while you bend me over your desk.”

Emmrich rolls his eyes, his facade of feigned innocence dissolving in an instant. “There it is,” he says, shaking his head, fully resigned, and yet absolutely, unflinchingly unbothered. “Right on schedule.”

She giggles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, laughing against his skin as his mouth curves into a smile. His hand moves down her back, rubbing a little more insistently, as if he’s grounding himself—or maybe just unable to resist the urge to keep her right there.

And she doesn’t make it easy for him. She drags her legs back, swings one over his lap, and settles herself down, straddling him. For a moment, she just studies him, tracing her fingers through his hair, brushing little gray strands back, pressing featherlight kisses along his cheekbones. She moves to his jaw, his forehead, then teases at the edge of that absurdly high collar he insists on wearing like he’s hiding some grand secret rather than just a very biteable throat.

He is fine, she muses, is he not? So impossibly precise, so painfully detailed. He’s all sharp angles and sleek lines, with those maddeningly long fingers that look like they could carve through a mountain if they set their mind to it, and legs that seem to go on for days. Tall, lean, graceful, and—she smirks—a touch too verbose for his own good.

There’s a tragic elegance to him, too, a sort of quiet, melancholic dignity wrapped up in age and maturity, like a bottle of rare, finely aged wine that’s only gotten more complex with the years. A shame, really, that he’s about to be thoroughly enjoyed by someone who wouldn’t know a fine vintage from a spoiled ale.

She’ll savor him all the same, every last bit.

When she takes his hands, winding her fingers through his, she feels him smile—a real, soft thing, so she leans down and steals it right off his mouth. She licks along the seam of his lips, teasing, before he finally gives in and parts them, letting her kiss him in earnest.

“I like your rings,” she murmurs as she pulls back, letting their mouths part with a wet pop, a little string of saliva snapping between them. “They make you look expensive.”

“Not too expensive, I hope,” Emmrich teases. “Otherwise, I fear I’ll meet the same fate as every artifact your merry Lords of Fortune collect. Pilfered in the night, sold to the highest bidder. One moment here, the next—poof. Gone.”

She makes a show of sighing, voice deadly serious. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d rig the auction, slip in a pretty penny or two, then plant an inside man to bid on you. Coin in one hand, you smuggled back to me in the other. All in one night.”

He laughs, that rich, throaty sound she loves, and she can feel it rumbling up through his chest. “All that trouble just for me?”

She leans in, lips brushing his ear. “Consider it my own little courtship ritual,” she whispers, nipping at his earlobe. “Better than dinner and a walk, don’t you think?”

He chuckles, his hands slipping to her hips, holding her close as if he’s half-tempted to test just how well she could pull off that heist. “Dangerously persuasive, as usual.”

For a while, she stays just as she is, savoring the closeness, every slow inhale filled with the scent of him, the warmth of his body against hers. She steals little kisses, grazing his jaw, breathing her laughter against his skin each time he starts to smile. She loves the quiet, the intimacy of it all, though she loves his voice just as much. Sometimes, she asks him to read aloud, not for the content, but for that smooth, careful cadence that rolls through her and makes her feel so, so good. She’ll rest her head in his lap, fingers idly tracing patterns on his hands, kissing his knuckles, his fingertips, watching his face as he reads.

Now, there’s nothing for him to read, but she leans into him all the same, letting his quiet words fill the space. He murmurs, babbles, whispers soft nonsense as he unlaces her hair, fingers brushing through the waves, watching as they fall in gentle cascades over his lap. She exhales, content, her eyes half-closed, perfectly happy just to listen as his voice drifts around her, soothing and familiar.

She simply listens, resting her head on his thigh, gazing up at the ceiling, fingers trailing over his hands, kissing his fingers one by one, lingering on each touch. Her teeth gently scrape along his skin, letting her tongue follow in a slow, winding path. She feels his breath hitch, hears him stumble over his words as she nibbles down each finger, tracing her tongue along the edge before she takes it into her mouth, sucking just enough to leave him squirming. She lets each finger slip from her lips with a wet pop, savoring the way his composure falters, how he tries—and fails—to keep his voice steady as she drags her mouth over the center of his palm, kissing, licking, leaving nothing untouched.

He’s given up on this one-sided dialogue entirely, his gaze drifting from her to the room around them—the door, the table, the empty corners where nothing but dust bunnies, or perhaps a few stray Fade bunnies, lurk in silence.

“Dear,” he murmurs, glancing down at her. “We ought to move.” He gives her a gentle nudge, even tries to rise himself, but she’s not having it.

“Oh, but you look so good here,” she protests, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “They’re all asleep, Emmrich. Even Lucanis, that kitchen rat, is probably curled up in his pantry right now, snuggling his precious wheel of parmesan.”

Emmrich lets out a long, put-upon sigh, like he’s reaching deep into his reserve of patience, maybe for some scolding remark, but he finds none. His shoulders drop as he finally relents, letting her kisses chip away at his restraint. She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, detailing exactly what she wants him to do with those hands of his—where she wants those fingers, how she wants them stroking, filling, plunging, curling…

“Well then,” he manages, and she laughs, a short, wicked little sound, straight into his mouth.

She slips down his body, her hands already at his waist, working his trousers loose with a grin that says she knows exactly how flushed he’s become. She murmurs something obscene, barely a whisper and almost incoherent, her smirk widening as she leans in closer, taunting, “Come on, Emmrich, don’t tell me no bone was ever… poked… in that crypt of yours, right out in the open for all to see.”

“It’s the Grand Necropolis,” he corrects, like that’ll somehow keep his dignity intact, “and we most certainly do not… poke.”

She undoes the last of the many - too many - buttons on his trousers before freeing him just enough to take him in hand. And oh, would you look at that, for all of his posturing he's already hard. All that wriggling on top of him certainly led to something, she thinks.

“Oh?” she hums, tracing her fingertips over his bare skin, savoring the way he stiffens under her touch. She leans forward, her lips brushing against his length as she murmurs, “Not even a quick tumble between the tombs? Not a single bone used for inspiration?”

His restraint crumbles as she flicks her tongue over him, taking her time, drawing out each little shiver, each catch in his breath, making sure he’s utterly undone before she finally lets her mouth close around him, her gaze locked on his as she starts to take him deeper, her mouth warm, wet, greedy. And as she feels him sink back, his hands clenching in her hair, she knows she’s finally broken that perfect composure, and she couldn’t be more pleased.

Then she pulls back just enough to speak. “So, tell me, is this what you meant by reanimation techniques?”

Emmrich sighs, dragging his free hand over his face as if he could somehow block out the utter cringe tumbling out of her mouth, his fingers twitching, though she doesn’t give him a moment’s peace. She lowers her head again, sucking him in, hollowing her cheeks, before releasing him yet again, his cock slipping past her lips with an obscene, wet pop. “You know," she muses, "I’d say you’re looking rather stiff.”

A sharp exhale escapes him, a half-laugh, half-moan that only encourages her further. She picks up her pace, taking him deeper, her hands braced against his hips as she moves with a steady rhythm, doing that little thing with her tongue she knows he likes, she knows that everyone likes, a talent truly, swirling all the way around, pressing it flat on the underside of his cock, only to suck her way up, breathe hot air against him, before swallowing him again.

Between every few breaths, she pulls back just enough to taunt him, her voice syrupy with mock innocence. She can barely hold back the laughter as she watches him react, his hips bucking ever so slightly with each tease, like clockwork, so deliciously predictable. “Come on, love. I thought resurrection was your specialty?”

“Blasphemy,” he mutters above her, though there’s no real heat in his voice.

“No, no.” She rests her cheek against his thigh, stroking him instead with a slow, deliberate touch, her palm warm and slick, her grip firm. “Think of it as… a rather intensive course in raising the dead.”

The absurdity of it hits her right as she says it—her last attempt at an erotic pun officially surpassed—and she breaks, a snort escaping as she buries her face against his leg, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

But then she feels his hands shift, pulling her up by her arms, and she yelps, startled, before giggling as he hauls her up, settling her right back on top of him.

“That’s quite enough of that,” Emmrich whispers.

As he catches his breath, she wipes her mouth, grinning at him with all the smug satisfaction of someone who’s just completely dismantled a man who prides himself on his restraint. She feels his fingers on her chin as he angles her face back towards his so he can kiss her and she's not shy, she tangles her tongue with his immediately, tasting as much of him as she can reach, even tracing the edge of one canine before retreating for breath.

“Think you could, I don’t know…” She waves a hand around aimlessly. “Necromance my pants away?”

He smiles, curling her hair around his fingers where it frames her face. “No, dear. I’m afraid that is not in my skill set.”

#my rook is a chaos goblin in case you haven't noticed #emmrich is emmrich idk what to say #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #wip whenever #the fact that we don't get to make inappropriate necromancy jokes is a tragedy #emmrook

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spaghettixdemon · 2 days ago

Text

J Stands for more words than one PT.2.5

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

Warnings: Drinking/Drunkenness, P in V, getting freaky in a car, fighting, slight mentions of death, Jealousy??

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Word Count: 323

Little author message here- I wanted to go back to shorter updates so this is a little rambling so I have more space for PT.3! (which is coming out VERY soon)

part 1 here | part 2 here

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“Alright finally done for the day..” Garcia grinned as she loomed over Emily’s desk. Garcia saw JJ back at her desk as well, seeing how annoyed she looked. Whatever was irking JJ didn’t seem to be a big deal, though, so Garcia made her way over to Spencer’s desk, a smile still plastered across her face. “Hey genius is Y/N coming out tonight or what?” Spencer spun to face her, shrugging his shoulders, seeming relaxed. “Uh yeah, I’m pretty sure she was into the idea! She talked about how fun it would be to get to know you all better.” Gracia pouted her lips. “Aww she’s so sweet…I can’t wait to see her later!” She turned back to face the office, walking over to JJ with a pep in her step.

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JJ scribbled some notes down, but that makeout session was still fresh in her mind. She was almost in her own world, thinking about Spencer and how he wrapped Y/N into his arms as they kissed. She thought about the desperate expression he made…how he seemed to forget anything outside of that car..” JJ? How bout you? Have the energy to go out tonight?” JJ snapped out of her thoughts. Those thoughts. She swiveled her chair looking at the bubbly, colorful woman before her. “Huh? Oh yeah! I need to get to know Y/N better, obviously!” She smiled, looking over to Spencer, making eye contact. “I have to get ready obviously, but text me where we’re meeting and I’ll be there.” JJ closed her file and stood up getting out of her office chair. She grabbed her bag and coat and looked back at her teammates. “I’ll see y’all later..!” Gracia seemed slightly surprised by JJ’s quick reaction, but didn’t pay it much mind- she had been acting odd all day anyway. “Yes! I’ll message you!” Garcia looked back to Emily with a grin. “Tonight will be so exciting..!”

—————————————————————————————————

taglist: @libraprincessfairy @esposadomd @teenwolfbitches28

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mcleantriestowrite · 2 days ago

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Bad Idea - Pt 2

Synopsis: Your step-brother is in debt to Rafe Cameron. Knowing he won’t be able to pay Rafe back, you step up. What a bad idea.

18+

Series content warning – swearing, slow burn, depictions of aggression, jealousy, drug usage, violence, underage drinking, smut

Chapter content warning – mentions of drug usage, violence, aggression, underage drinking

pt 1

***

The Wreck was generally always slammed. It was reliable work and the owners were nice enough to guarantee you shifts when you were home from college. You never seemed to have a moment to relax on your shifts due to how busy it was.

Except for today.

Of all days, of course today was the one day it was slower than normal. Why wouldn’t it be? Obviously, life had it out for you.

It was so slow that your friends were able to come visit you at work. Even crazier, you had time to actually sit down and talk to them.

“I say you shouldn’t bail Carson out.” Lacey shrugged. “He’s always pulling you into shit.”

“You didn’t see him.” You shook your head at her. “It was really bad. I think his nose might be broken.”

Caroline took another fry from their shared plate before saying, “I’m with Lacey. Remember when he threw that party in high school and was ‘too hung over’ to clean up? You spent, like, the whole day cleaning so that he wouldn’t get caught.”

Lacey snorted and dipped her fry in ketchup. “Which time?”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s family.”

“He’s your step-brother.” Lacey deadpanned.

Caroline lightly nudged her. “Chill.”

“I’m just saying.” Lacey held her hands up in defense. “You didn’t know him like 3 years ago.”

“I didn’t know you back then either.” You pointed out. “I would do this for you guys, too.”

Lacey and Caroline were among the first friends that you met when you transferred to the private school. Your friendship with them solidified when all three of you decided to go to the same college. Lacey and Caroline were roommates.

“Oh shit,” Lacey laughed. She looked past you towards the entrance then back at you. “Guess who just showed up.”

Your first instinct told you that it was Carson, but when you turned your head you were met with an intimidating set of blue eyes. You immediately slid down in the booth hoping that he wouldn’t notice you yet.

“Maybe he’s just here for food.” Caroline suggested.

“Yeah, for sure.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m sure him showing up to my place of work within the last hour of us being open has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I owe him money.”

“Sorry for being optimistic,” Caroline mumbled.

You groaned, bringing both hands up to rub your face. “I thought he was gonna show up to my house again after my shift. I didn’t think he’d come here.” Though, you had no idea why you never considered this possibility.

“Maybe he was excited to see you.” Lacey teased. She laughed a bit. “He just couldn’t wait.”

You couldn’t help but crack a grin at Lacey’s joke. “No one can resist my charm.”

You felt yourself tense up when you saw the host approaching you with an apologetic look on her face.

“Hey, sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but you just got seated.” She told you.

You sighed and nodded your head. “Thanks, Elliot.” When the girl left, you turned to your friends. “I’m assuming he’s going to wait until the end of my shift when I get paid. You guys can go ahead and leave. I’ll meet y’all the Boneyard later.”

Caroline looked at you with a small frown on her face. “Are you sure? I wanted us all to ride together.”

You smiled at her. You appreciated that she was hesitant about going without you.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’d have to shower anyway. I don’t wanna make y’all wait on me.” You reassured her. “If you guys want, you can uber there and I can still DD on the way home.”

Lacey tapped her rings against the plastic cup. “Maybe Noah could take us.” She suggested. “That way we wouldn’t have to pay for an Uber.”

You stood up from the table, picking up your notepad and pen. “Sure, if you can convince him.”

In the 8 months you had been dating Noah, he only attempted to DD once. That attempt ended in you forcing him to leave his truck at the bar due to the several beers he had ended up having.

Lacey smiled at you, “Great.”

As your friends left, you turned to where Rafe was sitting. You felt dread settling into the pit of you stomach. He hadn’t seen you yet, since he was on his phone. You tried to remind yourself of Caroline’s optimism. Maybe he did actually want to eat something.

Doubtful. But it was a possibility.

You forced a polite smile on your face and walked to Rafe’s table.

“Hey, Rafe.” You greeted. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Rafe looked up at you, studying your face. You did your best not to let your smile falter. He watched you for an awkwardly long period of time. You began to shift uncomfortably on your feet.

“I can give you a minute if you want.” You offered.

“Do you honestly think I’m here for food?” Rafe asked.

You clicked your pen closed and dropped your arms in an exasperated manner. All pretenses of being polite were immediately dropped.

“I don’t know, Rafe.” You sighed. “I’m trying not to make any assumptions about your character.”

He slightly narrowed his eyes at you. “And what assumptions do you already have about ‘my character’?”

Jackass. Womanizer. Jerk. Spoiled. Dick–

“I try not to judge people before I know them.” You settled with.

He let out an amused chuckle. “Right.’

“If you’re here for my money you’re gonna have to wait.“ You told him. “I probably won’t be able to leave for another hour and a half. You might as well get something to eat before the kitchen closes.”

Rafe leaned his head back, scratching his neck like he was annoyed at the whole situation.

“I’ll just take some fries then.”

You blinked, not actually expecting him to get anything. You half expected him to make some comment about waiting for you at your house or outside or something.

“Oh. Sure.” You quickly scribbled it down to give to the kitchen.

“And I’m not tipping you.”

This time you did roll your eyes. “I assumed.” You clicked your pen closed and walked to the kitchen.

Fries were normally ready pretty much every moment of the day due to the popularity of it. You got them within 30 seconds of asking one of the line cooks. You could go back and give Rafe his fries quickly.

Or you could make him wait.

You slowly smiled to yourself, thinking about it.

You weren’t going to make him wait too long in reality. The kitchen was hot and the cooks were cranky, so you didn’t want to be back there. You were also still a little scared of Rafe. Not a lot, but enough to where you didn’t want to piss him off too much. But the few extra minutes of defiance for some reason felt so good.

You came back out to Rafe, placing his plate and water on the table. He picked up a fry, inspecting it.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He shrugged. “Making sure you didn’t spit in my food.”

You crossed your arms, offended. “I wouldn’t do that.” You scoffed, then added, “And that’d be obvious on fries. If I wanted my spit to go unnoticed then I would’ve done it in your water.” You tapped your temple a couple times. “You gotta think about these things.”

Rafe looked at you skeptically. “Did you spit in my water?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Rafe rolled his eyes in response before eating another fry.

The rest of your shift dragged on. Eventually, Rafe moved to wait on the bench just outside the entrance. You were grateful that you didn’t have to delay any of your closing responsibilities for him.

After tipping out the bar, the kitchen, and the host, you had nearly $250 that you were able to give Rafe in addition to the $350 you had from the day prior. There was a very small amount you were allowing to keep for yourself, but he didn’t need to know that.

You frowned as you looked around the restaurant, wishing there was something else you could do to stall the inevitable. Sighing, you told the bar a quick “goodnight” and went outside to meet Rafe.

Irritatingly, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. He continued to text on his phone. You held out the money in front of his screen wordlessly to get his attention.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Rafe drawled.

You opened your mouth to give a snarky reply, but you held back. You just wanted to be done for the day. Giving a tight lipped smile, you spun on your heel to leave.

“Hold up.” His words made you pause in step.

You shut your eyes in frustration when you heard him start counting the money to himself. You turned around to face him again.

“This isn’t even $600. Where’s the rest?”

“I’m working again Wednesday. I can pay you whatever’s left then.”

Rafe shook his head, laughing. “That wasn’t the deal.”

You crossed your arms, feeling anger bubble in your chest. Technically, you didn’t owe Rafe anything. This wasn’t your debt to pay. Rafe was only getting the money from you because obviously he wasn’t going to get it from your step-brother.

There was an extra $20 you could give him, but it was the principle that made you not want to. You knew you should keep quiet, or maybe even apologize, but you always had a thing with anger. After all, you were your father’s daughter.

“We never had a deal. Maybe if you did something better with your life besides dealing drugs then you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”

Rafe’s face went blank for a moment. It was a terrifying neutral that should’ve been your hint to start running, but you knew from experience that running from someone’s anger would only make it worse. You tried to keep your face passive, but you couldn’t help but to take a step back when Rafe stood up to tower over you. You stared at his chest not wanting to meet his eye.

“You wanna try saying some shit again?” He asked. You clenched your jaw and continued to stare straight at his chest. “Huh? You want me to get the rest from your brother?” Rafe pressed.

“I don’t have anything else. I can get you the rest Wednesday.”

“I’m not waiting until Wednesday.”

God, he was so impatient. You’d think someone like him would be fine waiting a few days for $150. It was almost like he actually needed the money.

You blinked, the sudden realization crashing down on you.

Did Rafe need the money?

If you basically shamed him for sounding desperate, would he back down? Your heart sped up as you contemplated trying out your theory. You swallowed nervously before speaking.

“I mean, if you really need the money, I can check my car to see if I have any extra lying around.” You tried your best to keep your tone as innocent as possible.

Rafe narrowed his eyes at you. “I don’t need anything, pogue.”

You felt a little more confident, feeling as if your plan was working. “Sorry,” you said. “Just trying to be nice.”

Rafe stared at you for a long, lingering moment. For a second, you were scared he would hear how loud your heart was beating.

You began to wonder if you had pushed your luck too much tonight. What if he ended up taking his anger out on Carson?

The silence was loud, the way he was watching you was even louder. After those deafening few minutes, Rafe left without another word.

You let out a loud breath you didn’t realize had been holding.

***

“There she is!” Noah cheered with a slurred voiced.

The Boneyard was in full swing by the time you had showered, gotten dressed, and driven over. Carson was at the house and there was no sign that Rafe had been there to harass him, so you considered your earlier interaction with the kook king a small victory.

You laughed at the way Noah was swaying a bit. “Yeah – you’re welcome.” You joked. “The party can officially start now.”

“Noah–” Lacey stumbled up to you and your boyfriend with a wide grin. Her smile slightly faltered when she saw you. “Oh, you’re here! I was just about to ask Noah where you were.”

“I’m here.” You smiled. “I like your top.”

“Thanks.” Was all she said in return. You had expected her to start talking about where she had gotten it from. She loved talking about that kind of stuff. Instead, the three of you stood in silence. You weren’t sure why, but you began slowly nodding your head.

“I’m gonna go get a drink.” You announced. “I’ll be right back.” You just wanted to rid yourself of the awkward atmosphere.

You greeted a few people on the way to the cooler you spotted upon arrival. You grabbed one of the water bottles for yourself since you knew you were going to be driving everyone home later.

“Hey, pogue!”

The familiar voice made you tense up, and you felt torn between rolling your eyes and shooting him your middle finger, or leaving the Boneyard all together to avoid confrontation. Unfortunately, your indecision gave Rafe enough time to catch up to you.

God, you just couldn’t get rid of this guy.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Big word,” You mumbled low enough so that he wouldn’t hear.

“You still owe me $150, yeah?”

You didn’t really want to answer him. He already knew this. You eyed him warily.

“You’ll get the rest on Wednesday–”

“Here’s the deal,” Rafe interrupted. “I’m not waiting that long.”

You crossed your arms, shrugging. “Well, I can’t get you any more money until then, and my brother definitely can’t. So…” You trailed off.

“So,” Rafe began. “That’s where my proposition comes in.”

You continued to eye him, hesitantly. You weren’t sure where he was going with this.

Rafe continued, “There’s a party tomorrow night. If you show up and help promote the shit I’m selling, I won’t go after your brother for you not paying me the rest tonight.”

You stayed silent and tried your best to ignore the protest that was forming in your mouth.

This wasn’t fair. But he knew that. He knew it wasn’t fair — that this wasn’t even your debt to pay. Rafe just didn’t care.

“I don’t want to help you sell drugs–” You tried to say.

“You’re being dramatic.” He scoffed. “All you’d need to do is tell people where I am and what I have.”

“I really don’t want to be involved in that.”

“You’re already involved.”

“Rafe–”

“Everything good over here?”

Both you and Rafe turned your heads to see Noah quickly approaching. He had a hardened expression on his face. He made direct eye contact with you. “Is he bothering you?”

“None of your concern, Williams.” Rafe waved him off.

You eyes flickered between Noah and Rafe, concerned about where this was headed. Noah was obviously wasted already. He was always a tad on the aggressive side when drinking. Rafe was…Rafe. This could end very badly very fast.

“Nah, I think it is my concern, man.” Noah began to invade Rafe’s personal space. “Since I heard you’ve been harassing my girlfriend.”

Briefly, you wondered who had filled him in on the situation. You hadn’t told him about what happened the night prior.

“Noah, it’s fine.” You told him. “Let’s just go back to everyone else.” You lightly took hold of Noah’s arm to lead him away.

“Yeah, Noah.” Rafe grinned mockingly. “We’re good.”

You shut your eyes in annoyance. Rafe’s condescending attitude wasn’t helping anything. Without a second thought, Noah ripped his arm out of your grip.

“Oh, we’re good?” Noah stepped up to Rafe again.

“Noah–” You tried to protest.

“Yeah,” Rafe antagonized. He nodded over at you. “Your girlfriend thinks we’re good.” Noah clenched his jaw at the comment.

You rolled your eyes at the comment. “Stop trying to instigate. You’re really bad at it.” He was actually good at it, but you wanted to get under his skin. “Noah, let’s go.”

Noah continued to glare at Rafe, but when you tugged at his arm, Noah began to leave with you.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Rafe called out at the two of you. “Follow her like a bitch!”

Noah ripped away from you faster than you could process.

“Hey–”! You started to protest.

Your yell cut out with a startled gasp when Noah swung at Rafe. You stumbled back, not wanting to be in the area of impact.

A crowd started forming quickly from the commotion. Caroline caught up to you fast.

“What happened?” She rushed out.

An irritated expression formed on your face remembering the events leading up to this. You kissed your teeth. “Testosterone.” You tore your eyes away from the boys to look at your friend. “Where’s Lacey?”

“She went to get her sweatshirt out of Noah’s car.” Caroline told her. They both flinched when Rafe tackled Noah to the ground. Now on top of him, Rafe began punching Noah in the face with an open fist.

You looked around at everyone who was either egging on the fight or filming. Some were doing both.

“Is no one gonna do anything?” You asked, exasperated.

Caroline scoffed. “You mean, is anyone going to get involved in a fight with Rafe Cameron?” She threw back at you.

You grimaced as the fight moved towards the water. You began to take a step forward, but Caroline shot her hand out to stop you. “Terrible idea – truly.”

Noah suddenly broke himself free of Rafe’s hold. “What’s up, Cameron? Your daddy’s passing you over as president so now you’re acting out?” He taunted. “Is that it?”

Your eyes widened at Noah. He was definitely only making the situation worse.

Rafe lunged at Noah again, gripping his shirt in tight hold. He shoved Noah to the ground before slamming his fist in your boyfriend’s face over and over. Your breath hitched in your throat, you felt your nerves seeping into your lungs. This was going from bad to worse.

Lacey ran up to you and Caroline. “What happened?!” She exclaimed. “I left for literally five minutes!”

“What do we do?” Caroline panicked.

You brought both hands up to your face and ran them over the top of your head. You didn’t know what you were going to do. You had pulled Noah out of dumb bar fights before, but none of them were as bad as this one.

You tried your best to focus, but your head was going fuzzy. Noah’s movements became slower, filling you with dread. For a moment, you were legitimately worried that Rafe would kill him.

“Hey, Rafe! You did enough!” You recognized one of Rafe’s friends push forward from the crowd. “Hey – chill out!” His friend got a hold of Rafe. He must’ve been severely out of it. Rafe nearly swung at him.

“Stay out of this, Top!” He shoved his friend back.

Suddenly the sounds of the crowd were broken up by the louder sounds of sirens.

“The cops are here!” You heard someone yell. More people began to yell out the arrival the police.

You used the opportunity to rush over to your boyfriend.

“Noah?” You crouched to your knees so that you could get a better look at him. Noah slowly blinked his eyes, but didn’t address you. His face was nearly unrecognizable. Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Noah!” You raised your voice to get his attention. “Can you hear me?

He still wasn’t answering, no matter how much you pleaded. You cursed under your breath. You took his arm and slung it over your shoulder to try and pull him up, but he was too heavy for you.

“Hey, hey. Let me help.” You looked up to see a guy that you recognized from the private school. He got on the other side of Noah and helped you lift him up.

“Thank you,” You breathed out.

“Don’t mention it.” He grunted out.

“Lacey, do you still have his keys?” You asked as you approached your friends again.

“Yeah, I got ‘em.” Her voice was panicked. “Is he okay?”

“Can you unlock his car and push down the back seats? We’re gonna need to lay him down.”

Lacey shot you and Noah one more worried look before sprinting to where the car was parked.

You weren’t sure how long it took you to get Noah to his car, but you were scared out of your mind the whole time. Caroline opened the door to the backset and you laid him down with the help of the guy from high school.

You closed the door on him and ran to the drivers seat. You were going to have to leave your car here and hope for the best.

“I’m gonna have to take him back to mine.” You didn’t really say to anyone specific. You just felt like you needed to talk or you would start spiraling. “His parents can’t see him like this.”

“We can stay over, too.” Lacey offered.

You didn’t say anything in response, you only started the engine. You looked ahead down the street to see everyone running to their cars or into the nearby trees. You paused on the one person looking your way.

That pair of intimidating eyes you never could escape was holding you ransom.

#rafe cameron #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe #outer banks #obx #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction

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ragingtabbycat · 2 days ago

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Some allo people have no empathy for what the aroace experience is actually like

Someone just texted me “being aroace seems like a pretty good deal” after putting me in a position where I had to reject him for the third time. After being out to him about being aroace for years.

Do you think it feels good to have to reject people? I know being rejected sucks and being in a position where fundamentally you will be rejected sucks. Doing the rejecting also sucks. It fucking sucks when the person in question knows it’s a hopeless pursuit, when they know it could never happen. Thanks a lot for putting me in a position where I have to reject you again. Where I have to be empathetic and tactful because you are my friend and I like spending time with you. I’m sorry but at no point did you ever have any empathy for the position you put me in. I have to play the mediator, the balancer, I have to put everyone else’s emotions above my own. I don’t have this ‘vital’ human experience, I don’t have this specific complex bag of emotions that comes with romance; therefore I don’t have my own complex emotions about people and relationships. He doesn’t respect my identity. He thinks maybe if he confesses enough, I’ll want him back. He doesn’t get that I just am not like that. Stop giving me the emotional burden of the exchange. He lets everything out, and I have to do all the emotional labour. He did all this knowing the outcome and now we are both unhappy and uncomfortable. If he was even a little bit empathetic of me, he’d get that everyone else, also thinks this way. So many people think that they are the ‘one’ that I might just like. People put me in this position over and over again thinking that they are special that they are different. “Being aroace seems like a pretty good deal” only if you’ve just been rejected and feel bad about it.

The actual aroace experience of a complex balancing act of trying to build the relationships you want without leading people on. Keeping everyone at arm’s length lest they fall in love with you. That sinking dread knowing that someone is growing attracted to you and they are going to try something about it and it will make things awkward, it will fuck the friendship up at least for a little bit because they’ve moved into some ‘higher’ state of relationship and you haven’t. Knowing they want something that you just can’t give to them. I want deep friendships but everyone just sees them as a stepping stone to ‘something more’. Being ‘friendzoned’ is a bad thing. I have one genuine deep emotional friendship, that I trust completely, that there isn’t this fear that I am going to have to reject them at some point. I want a network of strong friendships, and I can’t have that, but you can’t have your romance with me either, so I guess we’re both miserable. It sucks being the designated empathy machine, it sucks having to reject people over and over again.

I constantly have this attitude, from multiple people, that being aroace is optimal, people think that the worse thing that could ever happen to someone is rejection and heartbreak. They don’t stop to think from my perspective, being rejected is a rare occurrence anyway, it only happens when you ask, when you take a step forward. This is my life, this is my existence. I have to do this every day. This isn’t even covering the social expectations that you defy just by being aroace. I’ve sorry, but if you think “Being aroace seems like a pretty good deal”, you have never even considered what it might be like from the other side. People have this attitude that being aroace is a lot more flexible than it actually is, at least in my experience.

Don’t get me wrong, I like being aroace, it is who I am. But attitudes like this make me want to scream. Cause being aroace doesn't suck, but how everyone treats you for being aroace certainly does.

#aroace #rants #rant #mild aphobia #aromantic #aromantic asexual

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joyride-time · 2 days ago

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Why’d Gil Snitch On Tarvek: Theories

Gil inherited a few things from Klaus. One of them is a tendency to avoid expositing. Among other things, he’s very closemouthed about his childhood. Because of this, we don��t know much about Gil as a kid or his mindset from Gil himself.

So why did he snitch on Tarvek about his intel stash and believe Klaus was right about him for over a decade? Some theories:

1. He’s Just Not That Into Him Theory

Why does Gil refuse to believe Agatha is the Other, but decide his father is right about Tarvek when they got caught looking for Gil’s family tree? Occam’s Razor (that thing can cut through anything!): Gil didn’t like Tarvek as much as he likes Agatha.

It’s hard to disprove it because there's no one else to scale Gil's relationships with back then except Von Pinn and Klaus, whose relationship with Gil is totally different. Gil didn’t know Agatha as long as he knew Tarvek at those points, but you can like someone you don’t know. Nothing requires Gil to have liked Tarvek as much as Agatha. Tarvek was Gil’s best friend… out of zero other friends. How much does Gil have to like and trust Tarvek to recruit him for the family tree search? Who knows. Tarvek is the one who cracked the safe in the flashback, and we don’t know if Gil could do that himself back then. The information they were searching for was something Gil probably wanted to tell everyone anyways. And they have their Paris interactions to get to know each other better in the future.

2. Klaus-Gil Dynamic Swing Theory

Klaus is always right… that’s something Gil doesn’t seem to have questioned before he discovers Klaus’ mistake with Agatha. At seven years old, Gil trusts Klaus’ judgment more than his own. At twenty-two years old, Gil is more critical of taking everything Klaus says at face value. He’s also got a whole decade of change and growth behind him. In Book 2 Gil and Theo have this exchange: “You sounded just like the Gil I grew up with.” “I’m not,” Gil said flatly. “Too many things have changed. I’ll never be that person again.” He smiled and punched Theo in the arm. “But I can remember the important bits.”

So it's a different Gil making different judgment calls.

3. Suspicious Sturmvoraus Theory

It’s Tarvek. Even when they’re on better terms Gil (and Agatha) are suspicious about him working at multiple purposes. Tarvek initially approached Gil to make him his minion at the age of seven. Tarvek also thinks that Klaus told Gil about Tarvek’s family, so Tarvek himself may have told Gil very little about them, or censored what he did share. If so, having a sudden info dump about their many sins probably didn’t help anything. We also don’t know what kind of schemes Tarvek got into where Gil could see them, but Gil does know that he got a secret hiding spot. And that he’s extremely good at lying. So he looked at Tarvek and decided yeah, he's probably lying to him.

4. Trust Issues Theory

Before Tarvek, Gil had really poor relationships with his peers. Or at least, any positive ones he used to have were broken off. Present day Gil is a very friendly guy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Gil tried to make friends… maybe even succeeded… and then they fell apart. If so, it wouldn’t be strange if part of Gil was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something made Gil want to custom-build his own, very dependent friend construct. Definitely not a surfeit of healthy relationships with his peers.

5. Perceived Vulnerability Theory

Agatha needs protection from what Gil can see in the first arc. She’s a female Spark in an Europa where they all disappear if not well-protected. He meets her at one of her lowest points and works to build her up. Their second meeting had him pluck her from her house after she got sedated. She gets more dangerous afterwards, but Klaus does a poor job at explaining things and is very clear that leveling the town she's in to kill her is an option. Tarvek is a prince and the son of a powerful Spark, on a ship where both qualities are enormously important to their peers. They may be hostages but neither felt very endangered by it. Book 4 also states that Gil had “done his best at the time to get Tarvek sent away”, which could just be referring to ratting him out, but could also be a sign that Klaus’ first impulse was not to send Tarvek back to his family, which makes Tarvek seem even less in danger. Gil thinks if he sides against Tarvek Tarvek will just get sent back home, where he’ll continue to be a prince… and how bad can that be? Whereas with Agatha he saw a little fledgling who was going to be someone’s personal property fighting hard to avoid that. They're very different perspectives.

I'm curious what other people's theories are, so please share if you feel like it.

#girl genius #my text posts #gg meta #gilgamesh wulfenbach #tarvek sturmvoraus

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noonaishere · 1 day ago

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Music of the Heart [J.YH] - one hundred and two | time off

The shooting for Songbird was on hiatus for the next two weeks, and so its actors were trying to fill the time with other things. Jongho and Satbyeol had both visited you the first day of their hiatus to talk about their albums, neither knowing the other was going to be there, and arguing about who would get to monopolize you first. Yunho arrived about 20 minutes into a stare-off between the two, in which the tension in the room was palpable and you could not, for the life of you, understand why. He talked both of them down and the two of you convinced them to email Hongjoong for individual meetings with Crom3r. That finally got them to leave.

Yunho offered his services in keeping his coworkers at bay, by hanging out in the studio while you worked. You felt you could deal with either of them if they showed up again, but it was nice to return to form: you working on music while Yunho went over a script. He would, eventually, have to record another song for his character because of rewrites, but the lyrics had to wait until the rewrites were done. In the meantime, you and the rest of Crom3r produced the instrumentals, and waited.

A few days later the rewrites were finished and the lyrics came to the studio via one of the writers. Yunho arrived soon after and you got to recording his part.

His recording was quick, and afterwards he stuck around and talked with Hongjoong and Maddox about the show and his character.

Your phone vibrated. You looked at the number, surprised to even see it grace the screen: it was your brother. You excused yourself from the room and went out into the hall. You sighed and answered.

“Hello?”

“T/n, thank god you picked up.”

“Hey, Intak. Why’d you call?”

“Dad’s in the hospital.”

The words hung there for a moment as you tried to figure out what they even meant. Hospital? Dad? He’s there?

“What?”

“He had a heart attack last night.”

“What? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I… you didn’t get a call from mom last night?”

“You know mom would never call me. You’re the kid who did what they wanted you to do, I’m the failure.”

“T/n you’re not--”

“I don’t think that, but I know mom does.”

He sighed. “He’s awake and doing well right now. He has to have a bypass soon; you should come visit him.”

You thought.

“T/n?”

“Are you sure my being there would really help anything?”

He sighed. “You are his child. I think you should be here.”

“You think so, but do he and mom think so?”

“Listen, he’s our dad and you should be here. I’ll talk to mom okay?”

You sighed. “So should I show up anyway?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to them about it before they get here.”

“But what if they say no by the time I get there? I’m not going all the way out there just to come back.”

“You can stay at my place.”

“You live right near them.”

“I got a new place, on the other side of town.”

That was weird, you thought he loved living next to them. You thought for a moment.

“And we can see each other and at least… catch up? Haven’t you put me off long enough?”

You sighed. “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay. Find a way out here and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Alright.”

“Can you come out tonight? I think dad would appreciate that more.”

“Shit. I need to talk to my boss and I’ll text you.”

“Okay, let me know.”

“Bye.”

You hung up the phone and sighed. You were concerned but also, maybe not? There was so much bad blood between you and your family that any other emotion could only be stained by the anger and resentment that colored your childhood and teen years. You weren’t really sure how you felt.

You walked back into the studio. Yunho said something and Hongjoong and Maddox laughed at it. It was all so normal. You held your phone in one hand and the other just hung by your side as you stood still for a few moments, deciding how to say what you needed to say.

“Hongjoong?”

He turned to look at you. “Yeah?”

“How does ‘time off’ work?”

“Why? Are you planning a vacation?”

“My dad had a heart attack last night and my brother wants me to go see him.”

Hongjoong, Yunho, and Maddox all shared the same expression: mouths opening and their eyebrows ticking up in surprise.

Yunho stood. “Are you okay?”

“Are you sure you want to go see them?” Maddox asked.

“Let me pull up the PDF about sick leave and time off,” Hongjoong said as he turned back to his computer screen.

You held your hands up to Maddox and Yunho. “Yes, I’m okay. Yes, I’m sure I want to see them. Thank you both for asking.”

You pulled a chair over and sat as Hongjoong looked up the regulations. Yunho pulled his chair over to your other side and sat next to you.

“Do you know how much time off you have?”

“Oh-- I used a bit because of Doyun but I hadn’t even checked since we’ve been so busy lately. I’ll sign in.”

As you pulled your phone back out of your pocket and went to the website for timesheets and payment, you could feel Yunho’s eyes on you. “Yunho,” you said, turning to him.

His eyes explored your face, perhaps looking for the tiniest bit of sadness or despair or anything, so he could spring into action and help you.

“I’m fine.”

He nodded slowly.

You put your hand on his for a moment and tried to reassure him with a smile before going back to what you were doing.

“Umm, I have… a few days of vacation time.”

Hongjoong nodded. “I have a ton that I never use, I think I can give you some days if you need them.”

“I don’t think it’ll take more than a week to visit them.”

“I can give you days too.” Maddox added.

You shook your head. “I don’t think I need all that.”

“But what if you get there and they want you to stick around longer?” Yunho asked.

You looked at him, unimpressed.

“What if your brother wants you to stay longer?”

You sighed as you thought. The fact that Intak was the only member of your family that actually tried to contact over the years you meant that he at least didn’t want you out of his life. He’d even nagged you about not calling more often... You looked at Yunho.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You don’t need to go with me.”

“How are you getting there?”

“I… I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“What if I drive you there?”

“What? Aren’t you shooting soon?”

He shook his head. “We don’t go back for a week.”

“Don’t you have promotions or something, then?”

“We start shooting again in a week and promotions start again when we’re done.”

You sighed.

“Let me drive you back. We can see my parents, they’ll be happy to see you again.”

You nodded. Yunho’s mom was like the mom you always wanted, you really wouldn’t mind seeing her again. “Yeah, okay.”

He put his hand on yours reassuringly.

“I know that you said you don’t want them, t/n, but please let Maddox and I give you a week each. It’s the least we can do.” Hongjoong said.

“But I don’t need almost three weeks of vacation,” you laughed.

“Consider it a present.” Maddox smiled. “If seeing your family is that bad, you can take a vacation afterwards.”

You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah, okay… Can I leave now? My brother wanted to know if I’d be able to make it there for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re done with what we were doing. If the two of you want to go, you can.”

Yunho nodded and looked at you. You stood and put everything in your backpack. Yunho got his coat and then took the backpack from you eliciting a small protest that you let die when he smiled at you.

You turned back to Hongjoong and Maddox. “I guess we’ll see you in a few days, then.”

“I hope your dad is okay,” Hongjoong said.

Maddox pointed at him. “What he said. I hope he’s okay too.”

You nodded again. “Yeah.”

Yunho opened the door for you and the two of you left.

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a/n: Well that was unexpected. I guess she’s going to see her family after about a decade. Fingers crossed 🤞

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