#at least everyone else is upfront about it
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genesis-quoi · 9 months ago
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While I’m here I think that while SatAM Robotnik is a piece of shit and very good at it I really don’t think any version of Eggman will ever be as fucking twisted as aosth’s version.
HEAR ME OUT I KNOW HE’S GOOFY AND WRITES EVIL ON HIS CALENDAR EVERY SINGLE DAY AND PUTS A HEART AROUND IT BUT
I’d say it’s a fair assumption to say that all the 90s cartoon Robotniks are aware they are fighting literal teenagers and that’s their L to bear HOWEVER
Fucking with them psychologically comes a distant second to just straight up murder most of the time (I’ve never seen most of Underground though so I’m gonna leave RoChalknik out of this)
Im just saying it takes a real fucked up bastard to know you’re beefing with children and THEN concoct a scheme to impersonate said orphan’s probably dead parents so you can blackmail the dude he’s always hangin with
AND THEN CONTINUE TO KIDNAP HIM FOR 50 MORE EPISODES LIKE SIR STOP HES ALREADY DEAD
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milf-harrington · 1 year ago
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its so fucking disheartening realising that no one actually sees me as a guy, they just pretend to - and yeah its great being called theo but its less great being lumped in as one of the girls in the same breath
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nyerus · 1 year ago
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Thank you for always sharing TGCF news with fans! It's not always easy for me to follow what's going on, so I really appreciate it. Do you know if season 2 of the donghua will be available on Netflix?
Hello Anon!
You're very welcome, I'm always happy to help!
I think season 2 will indeed be available on Netflix, however it's unlikely to be simulcast or anything. And I don't know when new episodes will be added--could be either the day of/soon after an episode's initial release, or much later.
Personally, I believe it will take some time, perhaps well after the season has fully aired. Bilibili's YouTube channel and Crunchyroll (among other international sites) are confirmed to be broadcasting them, and the later probably as a simulcast. So they probably wouldn't want it to go on Netflix too quick and cut into their own subscription profits. But who knows, maybe everyone will play nice!
If waiting is not an issue, then you'll likely be totally fine to watch it on Netflix at some point, but if you want to watch it as it broadcasts, then you'll have to check out Bilibili/Crunchy/etc. Keep in mind that more options for watching the donghua might be added closer to release, so it might be worth it to wait.
As it stands, I do not know the "best" way for people in North America to watch the donghua yet, because Bilibili's CN site is possibly not airing it due to censorship regulations. Meanwhile, their YouTube channel did not have TGCF season 1 available in North America. But then while Funimation (now absorbed into Crunchyroll) did """simulcast""" the release for North America, it was a bit... iffy. While Crunchy is typically better with simulcasts (at least with anime), I don't know if it's wise to put my eggs in that basket yet because nothing's confirmed! I'll keep ya'll posted, though!
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chiyana · 4 months ago
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this is the stupidest crossover possible but I want Tim to make House his doctor
yes that House
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why? He needs someone who is very good, will not give up or send Tim out to a different specialist just because his medical condition is difficult, will not be overly concerned about the danger Tim puts himself in, and will lie on Tim's medical records AND to Batman/Bruce Wayne/all of the Bats without hesitation or fear.
House is and will do all of those things without hesitation. He has no shame, no boundaries, he WILL get into a public fight with Bruce Wayne if it means keeping that man out of his patient's (and House's) business. He will help Tim lie to and gaslight the rest of his family without hesitation.
in exchange, Tim is his favorite patient. Not because they get along, necessarily, Tim is a know-it-all little shit and they constantly bicker and House hates how practically every facet of Tim's existence is a lie (and Tim thinks House is a smug know-it-all jackass who is needlessly cruel and callous bc he thinks the world owes him and never delivers just bc he's in pain, news flash a lot of people are in pain and manage not to be assholes) BUT, 1, Tim brings him really interesting cases and problems, and 2, Tim NEVER lies to House about his medical conditions or what he was doing when they happened.
He lies about literally almost everything else under the sun TO everyone else, but he is 100% completely upfront and honest about his medical history and what is going on with him with House.
admittedly it takes a while for House to realize Tim ISN'T lying to him because some of the shit he says is completely insane ("the vigilante thing is pretty obvious but what do you MEAN you got the Apocalypse virus TWICE, AND SURVIVED, AS A FOURTEEN-FIFTEEN YEAR OLD")
but once he realizes Tim doesn't ever lie to him, he becomes House's favorite patient because at least TIM gives him all of the data he needs as best he's able the moment he asks. At least House doesn't have to waste his time following up on bogus information or figuring out the truth, he can just get right into the meat of the medical issue at hand.
also it's so fun to lie directly to Batman's face, know the man knows, and know he can't do anything about it
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geneviveleocardius · 23 days ago
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arthur morgan romantic headcanons
extended
to the loml..
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Arthur isn’t the type to fall in love easily, but when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He fights it at first, thinking he doesn’t deserve you or that his life is too dangerous. But once he accepts it, his love is unwavering.
Arthur’s love language is rooted in action. He’ll sharpen your knives, mend your clothes, and leave little surprises in your belongings—a flower he picked on a ride, a small drawing tucked into your satchel. These gestures are his way of saying..
“I’m thinking of you.”
Arthur would walk through hell and back for you, no questions asked. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll be met with a cold, steely glare—and if the situation escalates, Arthur won’t hesitate to step in.
Arthur notices everything about you—how you like your coffee, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, the small things that bring you comfort. He stores this knowledge away, using it to make your life easier without drawing attention to himself.
Arthur finds it hard to express his feelings verbally. When he tries, he stumbles over his words, his cheeks flushing red. Instead, he’ll write you letters or let his actions speak for him. The few times he does manage to say “I love you,” it’s raw, heartfelt, and unforgettable.
Arthur is big, strong, and often a bit rough around the edges, but he’s incredibly gentle with you. His touch is always careful, his words soft, and he treats you like you’re something precious in a world full of chaos.
Arthur has a deep respect for you and your ability to hold your own, especially in the harsh world you both live in. He’ll often tell you, “You’re tougher than most folks I know. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Arthur cherishes the rare times when it’s just the two of you—sitting by a campfire, watching the stars, or riding side by side in peaceful silence. These moments are what keep him going when life feels too heavy.
Arthur doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s subtle—a tense jaw, a quiet grumble, or a pointed look. If someone flirts with you, he’ll casually sling an arm around your shoulders and mutter something like, “Don’t think they know you’re already spoken for.”
Arthur loves to sketch you. He’ll pretend he’s drawing landscapes or animals, but you’ll often find small doodles of you hidden in his journal. If you ever catch him in the act, he’ll act bashful, muttering, “Just drawin’ what I see..”
Arthur’s protective nature runs deep. He knows the world is dangerous, and he’ll do anything to shield you from it. At the same time, he trusts your strength and doesn’t try to control you—he just wants to be there when you need him.
Arthur believes in being upfront with you, even when the truth is hard to hear. He doesn’t want to hide anything, especially from someone he loves. His honesty might be blunt, but it’s always rooted in care and respect.
Arthur doesn’t expect perfection from you. He knows everyone has their flaws, and he loves you not despite them, but because they make you who you are. He’s always quick to remind you, “Ain’t nobody perfect, least of all me. But you? You’re just fine the way you are.”
Arthur dreams of a better life for the both of you—maybe a little farm, far away from all the chaos. He’s hesitant to share these thoughts at first, afraid they’ll sound foolish, but when he does, his voice is full of hope.
When life gets overwhelming, Arthur is your rock. His presence is steady, his voice reassuring, and his arms feel like the safest place in the world. No matter how bad things get, you know you can always count on him to stand by your side.
Arthur loves to poke fun at you in the gentlest way. If you trip over something or make a small mistake, he’ll smirk and drawl, “Reckon I should start callin’ you Grace.” But if anyone else tries to tease you, he’ll immediately shut them down, saying, “That’s my job, not yours.”
Arthur’s a nickname kind of guy. Whether it’s “darlin’,” “sunshine,” or even something a little more playful like “trouble,” every nickname he uses is laced with affection. If he’s in a particularly good mood, he might tease you by saying, “What’d I do to get stuck with someone like you?” only to follow it up with a soft smile and a quiet, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Arthur’s got a sharp sense of humor, and he’s not afraid to use it. If you’re being stubborn or overly dramatic, he’ll cross his arms and grin. “Oh, so that’s how it is now? I’d better get outta your way before you start runnin’ the whole gang.” He knows exactly how to get under your skin in the most endearing way.
Arthur loves a little friendly competition, whether it’s a shooting contest, fishing, or even racing horses. He’ll mock you playfully the entire time: “You sure you don’t want a head start, darlin’? Hate to see you lose so bad.” But if you beat him? He’ll act all grumpy before grinning and saying, “Alright, alright, you earned that one. Don’t get too used to it.”
After a round of playful banter, Arthur always makes sure you know he’s kidding. He’ll pull you close, brush his thumb over your cheek, and murmur, “Y’know I don’t mean half the nonsense I say, right? Just like seein’ you smile.”
Arthur’s life hasn’t left much room for softness, but he finds ways to be romantic in his own understated way. He’ll carve your initials into a tree, braid wildflowers into your horse’s mane, or bring you little trinkets he finds on his travels. If you ever call him out on it, he’ll shrug and say, “Just seemed like somethin’ you’d like.”
Arthur has a habit of pulling you into sudden dances when there’s music around the camp. He’ll take your hand with a teasing grin and say, “C’mon, we ain’t got all day. Let’s see if you can keep up.” Even if you’re terrible at it, he’ll just laugh and say, “Guess we both got somethin’ to work on.”
Arthur’s protectiveness often shows up in his actions rather than words. If you’re out riding together, he’ll always place his horse slightly ahead, shielding you from any potential danger. If you call him out on it, he’ll grumble, “Ain’t nothin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things, is all.”
When you’re feeling unsure of yourself, Arthur’s softer side shines through. He’ll tilt his head, his voice low and earnest: “Ain’t no one like you, and don’t you dare forget it. World’s better ‘cause you’re in it.”
Arthur can’t help but stare when you laugh. Whether it’s a soft chuckle or uncontrollable laughter, it always tugs at his heart. He’ll grin and tease, “Reckon I should make you laugh more often. Suits you better than that serious look you like to wear.”
Arthur’s flirting is subtle but effective. He’ll lean in close, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip a beat: “You keep lookin’ at me like that, and I might start thinkin’ you’re sweet on me.”
After a long day, Arthur treasures the quiet moments with you. Sitting by the fire, he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulders, occasionally breaking the silence to tease you softly: “Think you could stand another day of me? Don’t answer too fast, might hurt my pride.”
Arthur isn’t just your partner; he’s your anchor. Whenever you need comfort, he’s there without hesitation. He’ll hold you close and murmur, “Ain’t nothin’ we can’t handle. Long as we got each other, we’ll be alright.”
Arthur doesn’t brag much, but he can’t help himself when it comes to you. If someone comments on how lucky he is, he’ll smirk and say, “Damn right I am. And she’s lucky I’m lettin’ her stick around.”
When things are tough, Arthur’s voice carries a weight of quiet determination: “Whatever happens, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”
pretty boy
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seeingivy · 6 months ago
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my kink is karma
satoru gojo x f!reader
**loosely based on my kink is karma by chappell roan
an: based on a request from gojo as taylor anon <3 this one is for u
--  
“hi honey bee.” 
you peer over the top of your monitor screen to find satoru gojo, the executive account manager whose murder you’ve been planning for the past few weeks, looming over your desk. his inhumanely long limbs are fixed behind his back, bright ocean blue eyes filled with glee. and you’ve been through this enough times to know exactly what’s going on. 
he’s caught yet another mistake that you’ve made. and he’s here to sick it to you, his favorite worker bee that he likes to irritate. 
satoru gojo is a nicely packaged sewer demon that arrived two months ago, replacing the little old lady who used to occupy the glass office at the center of the workflow. she was kind, a little bit confused here and there, but she got her job done without making a fuss and that was all that mattered to you. she made you blondies for your birthday. 
you didn’t realize how nice you had it until she was replaced with him. because satoru gojo was irritating, prancing in the way he always did – insanely tall and taking up too much space in your peaceful office – with a boisterous laugh, a strange sense of humor, and a tendency to be irritatingly perfect. 
a stitched and tailored suit,  designer perfume, and a sparkling rolex watch on his wrist. a pretty girlfriend that he bragged about at mandatory lunches, a shiny black mercedes, and a penthouse apartment in the center of the city. 
you hate him. you hate how you can feel him scorning at the worn down ballet flats that you wear to work, the vintage watch you snagged from the thrift store, and the narrowed look that he gives to your public transportation card as you tuck it back into your wallet when you walk into the office. 
“are you doing a sales report?” he asks. 
“i’m at my job. where i work in sales marketing. what do you think i’m working on?” 
you watch his eye twitch. the small movements – eye twitches, nose wrinkles, and the turning of his lip – you had been watching them, memorizing what exactly it was that pushed his buttons since he was so keen on doing it first. though, he would never show it upfront, at least not as openly as you do anyways. 
that was one of the nice things about satoru gojo. that he was intelligent and perceptive – enough for him to know that you were maybe the only person in this office who didn’t like him. that you could understand his niceness was masked in arrogance. that you had no intention of kissing his ass like almost everyone else in this office did. 
you loathed his very existence, the stupid jokes he made, and would rather hear nails on a chalkboard than the stories that he recounts from his weekends at his parent’s suburban villa. 
“i love a great sense of humor!” he responds, scooting his long legs over to the side of your desk and hunching over to get a view of your computer. 
he says it with a bright and sparkling smile, but you get the message clear and straight – i’d watch the attitude if i were you. 
the smell of his fancy cologne tickles your nose as he leans over, his face nearly cheek to cheek with yours as he places a little manila folder in front of you. you heave a sigh, opening it up to your sales reports from the last week, each one laminated and with a dark red mark in the center. 
“been looking over your reports. you’re getting a little sloppy with your math.” 
you scoff. 
“is that right?” you ask. 
“uh huh. just make sure you count your decimal points and your zeroes when you turn in this one. i know it can be a little hard sometimes, big numbers and all.” 
you bite down on your cheek, feeling the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. did he always have to be so patronizing? 
“now why would i do that? i’d put you out of a job if i did.” 
satoru clicks his tongue in cheek – one of the clear cut signs that you’ve hit one of his exposed nerves. that he’s a glorified calculator sitting in a fancy glass office with an arbitrary executive title slapped next to his name. 
satoru gojo hates that you always seem to make that point every time he corrects you. and you’ll take any chance to remind him. that he doesn’t do anything worthwhile. that he’s a pretty face and just that – nothing substantial underneath. 
“luckily for me, you’ve proven that you’ll be incompetent until the end. as long as you’re here, it seems that i will be too. i’d get back to it if i were you, honey bee.” he responds, the tone in his voice scathing as he walks back to his office, a glimmering plastic smile pressed to his face. 
--
you have mandatory team building lunches on fridays at twelve thirty. it’s one of the things that you appreciate – that you don’t have to wake up early to put together a lunch from the leftovers in your fridge. 
you cycle through every person in the office, rotating on picking up lunch that accommodates the budget and everyone’s dietary requests, and break bread to get closer to one another. satoru, naturally, goes over budget every time it’s his turn, and insists that it’s no problem – though he always seems to slightly mess up your order, while everyone else’s comes out perfectly. 
and on the days where he isn’t choosing the lunch, he’s so irritating – complaining of a sensitive stomach – and instead brings a nicely packaged lunch that his private chef makes for him every morning.. three courses, always packed with a dessert. 
one time you asked him if the chef wrote him little supportive notes in his lunchbox. you would be lying if you said it didn’t fill you with pride, that the small comment you made was enough to fill him with irritation for the rest of the work day. 
“what are your christmas plans, satoru?” 
you look over at your fellow sales associate, yuuji, and share a smirk with him. the two of you lean back, nursing your little sandwiches from the deli two miles down in your hands as you start the mental counter in your head. 
every day before lunch, you and yuuji make a shot counter of things that you expect gojo to say during team building. common phrases that fall out of his mouth like back at the villa, my custom tailor shop, and louis vuitton – the normal trust fund baby vocabulary, naturally – somehow always make their way into the conversation. 
you drink shots accordingly at happy hour after work. whoever’s word has the higher count has to pay for the entire night. 
your poison for today was private jet. yuuji’s was timeshare. 
“anne marie and i are heading over to her family’s timeshare in bali. they have a property over there – full pool, private beach and all.” 
yuuji snorts. you roll your eyes. 
“a private beach?” nanami asks, eyes raised as he neatly picks the tomatoes out of his sandwich and hands them over to shoko at his side. 
“a private beach, indeed. it’s right on the coast, equipped with boats for excursions and stuff like that. the timeshare comes set with all of those.” he states. 
“excursions.” you repeat, giving yuuji a wide eyed look as he fights the urge to laugh. 
satoru looks over at you, a clear distaste in his eyes, as he leans back in his chair, legs spread wide. 
“what are you doing for your vacation, y/n?” satoru asks. 
“i’m going home with yuuji for a few days.” you state. 
“right. that sounds exciting!” he states. 
you can hear the message laced in that one too – a clear and pointed diss that he’s going to be spending his time at a resort with his skinny legged model girlfriend and you’re going to be going home with the one gay guy that works at your office and get drunk in the bar in your hometown. 
“which airline are you taking?” satoru asks. 
you grin. 
“delta.” 
“never been. i use my private jet to get around.” 
you give him an exaggerated gasp. 
“a private jet? tell me all about it.” 
you’ve goaded him right into your trap – as satoru then says the word private jet a total of seventeen times, defeating the measly eight times he said timeshare – and delight in the fact that you’ll at least get to have a nice night out. 
--
on the first tuesday back from break, freshly minted into five days of the new year, your co-worker katie shakes your shoulder aggressively ten minutes into your shift. you note that four days into the week, satoru has yet to return to the office and you hope that it’s not just good luck – that maybe he fell off of his duffy boat in bali and lost all his memory, rendered incapable of ever returning to the office again. 
you pray that your new boss isn’t as much of an asshole as him. 
you look up to find katie’s eyes wide, an excited smile on her face, as she leans down into your space. katie is one of the few friends that you have in the office, the third person who finds satoru and his antics irritating. 
“did you hear about gojo?” she asks. 
“every thing i know about that man is against my will.” you deadpan. 
she giggles, leaning down to whisper. 
“oh my fucking god. come here. you’re going to love this.” 
she stands up, scanning the room, as she gestures for you to stand up, the two of you making your way over to the break room. you can’t talk so freely about him when his little lackey’s are still lingering around, who will most definitely tell him that the two of you were gossipipng. 
and god knows that would only make his head bigger – knowing that everyone talked about him even when he wasn’t there. katie strides into the room, taking residence over the coffee machine and shooting nanami a polite smile, as she starts absentmindedly brewing a cup of coffee. 
“he’s losing it.” 
“who?” 
“satoru. he’s going fucking crazy apparently.” 
you snort. as if. satoru’s definition of going crazy would be mixing and matching different designer brands – like wearing a gucci watch with a louis vuitton tie. 
“turns out that his glamorous vacation to bali with that raggedy anne doll never happened. she had a whole meltdown and broke up with him after his credit card got declined at a restaurant they went to a few days before the trip.” 
you nearly choke on your spit. 
“what?” 
“apparently it was just a fluke, his card got momentarily blocked since he bought some new car. but she literally freaked out on him and left him stranded.” 
you snort. 
“there’s no way.” 
“she told him that it was unacceptable. that she had enough.” 
“well, i’ll say. she milked an entire designer wardrobe out of him.” you whisper, earning you a giggle from katie. 
“i know! anyways, sharon from hr told me that he’s taken the past four days off because he doesn’t have transportation – he fucking crashed the mercedes when he was driving home from the breakup.” 
“you’re fucking kidding. the g-wagon?” 
“i swear to god.” 
it feels a little mean, but you can’t help but delight in all of it. 
that despite it all, karma’s real. and it’s finally satoru fucking gojo’s turn. six months of patronizing comments and arrogance has finally caught up with him. his pretty girlfriend is just that – a pretty girl who wanted to do nothing with him. the car he brags about has been demolished and at the very least his larger than life ego has taken some type of hti. 
“oh, look, look.” 
katie shakes your arm, the two of you peering through the glass window to see satoru climb out of the bus – the same bus that you take to work everyday to save money – with what you can tell from here is an unironed suit and messy hair. his tie isn’t even done properly. 
and when he walks in, all you smell is the fancy cologne, with the faintest hints of tequila lingering behind. a smell that you only catch, because it’s one that you’ve drowned out on a bad day. 
you and yuuji pick horrendous words for lunch – yours being luxury brand and yuuji’s being private chef – and much to your dismay, he says neither. he actually doesn’t say anything. just sulks in the corner and disappears as soon as he finishes the tacos. 
you leave a mistake in your sales report. he doesn’t even catch it. 
--
“can you close out my tab, toji?” 
toji, the bartender who’s well aware of your antics – and perhaps even more upset than you are that your hoity toity boss didn’t play along well with your game today – gives him a nod, wiping his hands with the towel as he looks over at you. 
“you too, doll?” 
“no, i’ll have another before i head out.” you state. 
he gives you a nod, shuffling off to the side to get yuuji’s bill, as you slump down on the bar, yuuji mimicking your motions as you both lean your heads against one anothers. and he leaves just as fast, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head as you swirl the little ice cubes in your drink as you watch the bubbles fizz out. 
“rough day, y/n?” 
you shrug. 
“same old – can’t really complain. you?” 
toji smiles. 
“you see that guy over there, at the end of the bar? this is the third day that he’s drank up my entire supply of tequila.” 
you follow the line of his vision to see satoru – the satoru gojo slumming it in this rather disgusting bar, at least for his standards – his tie messy and the buttons of his shirt loosely undone sitting at the bar. 
“him?” 
“uh huh. broke up with like the only girl he’s ever dated, apparently. whoever she is, thank her fucking ass. he tips well over.” toji murmurs, giving you a smile as he rearranges the glasses. 
you give toji a weary smile, pressing the cash down on the bar, as you make your way over – noting that tequila smell is not masked at all this time – as you slide into the seat next to him, tapping on your shoulder. and he looks over, the rims of his eyes red and eyes squinting as he leans forward.  
“honey bee?” he slurs. 
the smell is overwhelming. 
“the one and only.” you respond. 
you reach forward, sliding the little shot glass out of his hand and placing it behind the bar. you turn back to find that his hair is messy, whatever mousse that he’s used to style it has clearly run fraught, and his cheeks flushed pink. 
“that’s enough for one night, gojo. let’s get you home, yeah?” 
“huh?” 
“home. the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or a household?” 
he glares. 
“i know what a home is.” he deadpans. 
“perfect! let’s get you to yours.” you respond. 
satoru turns over to you, blue eyes weary, before he shrugs and slumps down onto the bar. you roll your eyes, scooting your chair closer as you pull up your phone. 
“i’ll do you a liberty. i know you’re probably morally opposed to taxis, so i’ll call you an uber. what’s your address?” 
satoru reaches up, his fingertips brushing your wrist, as he snatches your phone and places it flat on the bar. 
“no thank you.” 
“toji will kick you out, you know. and he doesn’t even know you like that, he’ll probably be really mean since he has a wife to get back home to and all.” 
satoru snorts. 
“then i’ll just go to another bar. i’m not going home.” 
you groan, noting that of course he was going to be stubborn about this too, and that whatever it was in your chest – pity, you suppose – was making you so insistent on making sure he didn’t die from alcohol poisoning tonight. 
“what’s so bad about your pretty penthouse?” you ask. 
he huffs a sigh. 
“there’s pictures of anne marie everywhere. and i fucking hate that bitch.” 
you snort, hearing such choice words about the barbie doll that you never had the pleasure of meeting, as you hop off the stool. you figured he was going to be more of the emotional drunk – crying and whining – rather than cursing her very existence. 
“okay, c’mon. i know somewhere you can go.” 
--
you feel bad for him as the night goes on. because he’s so drunk that he’s sobbing the entire drive back to your apartment, a horrendous mix of drunk ramblings about how honda civics are actually nicer than he expected and how he didn’t even know that this part of the city existed. your previous thoughts about emotional drunks were completely revoked. 
he leans his entire weight on you as you drag him into the elevator, plopping him down on the couch, as you task yourself with making him a green smoothie before letting him pass out into the abyss. it’ll help with the raging hangover you’re positive that he’s going to have tomorrow – and you hope that it means he’ll spare you some kindness the following morning, for saving him from his imminent death and all. 
you change into your comfy pajamas as the smoothie blends – a loose old dartmouth t-shirt and shorts – and pour it into a glass. you take a deep breath, bracing yourself, as you make your way back to the couch where satoru’s peeled his sport jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt nearly halfway down. you make it a point to not ogle his perfectly chiseled body. 
“alright, satoru. this will help with your hangover tomorrow, just drink it really fast because it tastes horrible.” you state. 
satoru looks over at you, completely unfazed by the green drink you hand him, and decides that he’s very shamelessly going to check you out. you can see it in his eyes – the way they follow your bare legs and your mismatched socks, before he looks back up at you and frowns. 
“am i that fucking pathetic that you’re helping me?” he asks. 
you grin. 
“yes.” you respond. 
satoru appreciates the honesty, gulping down the thick and tart smoothie that you made him, and slams the glass down on the coffee table after the fact. he wipes the residue on the back of his hand and shrinks into the couch – and you can’t help but shiver at how normal he looks. 
it’s the first time that you’ve understood it, why everyone thinks he’s so attractive. he has soft and full cheeks, striking blue eyes that go perfectly with his snow white hair. a few freckles dot his nose. 
“well, let’s hear it. make all the fun you fucking want.” satoru murmurs. 
you roll your eyes. 
“do you think i’m a bitch? i don’t kick people when they’re down. something you’re wholly unfamiliar with, i’m well aware.” 
“you have no problem doing it in the office.” he states. 
you scoff. 
“you always start it. you can’t really get mad when i start dishing it back. and i’m a little bit better than you. i won’t make comments about you now that pretty malibu barbie’s broken your heart now because i have a shred of decency.” 
satoru scoffs. 
“you’ll just do it tomorrow, when i’m keen enough to fight back .” he states. 
you sigh, leaning back on the couch, as you look up at the wallpaper pressed to the ceiling. it’s slightly peeling and you make a mental note to replace it when you get the time – which knowing you, you probably never will. 
he was impossible. 
when you look over at him, his eyes fixed to the peeling wallpaper too, but with glimmering tears sprinkling out of his eyes, though they’re slower and quieter than the sobs that he was heaving in the car. you wonder how much he really had to drink. 
“you need to replace your wallpaper. it’s coming off.” satoru seethes. 
“okay.” you respond. 
you look back at the ceiling. you could give him some advice too. 
“you should stop dating gold diggers.” you state. 
he rolls his eyes. 
“how was i supposed to know she was a gold digger?” he asks. 
you laugh. 
“it’s not normal to buy your girlfriend’s entire wardrobe. and her car. and her..”
“okay, okay, okay. it was a gift!” he defends. 
“you know, normal people get a giftcard and call it a day. or a candle from target.” you respond. 
there’s a whisper of a smile on satoru’s face as he sighs, before pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“okay, well. i was trying to be sweet. her love language was giving gifts.” 
you snort. 
“shocker.” you deadpan. 
he reaches for the closest cushion, before smacking it straight across your chest. you’re quick to snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest, as the two of you stick back to the silence. 
“so what do i do?” he asks. 
“what do you mean?” 
“i dunno. never done a break up before. she was like my first girlfriend.” 
you would understand it. you would, you suppose, if that was something you could relate to. being so in love that you can’t be with anyone else. but then again, that lingering question would always come back to you – how could you know that this person was the one if you hadn’t tried anything else? 
in your very limited experience in your very short life, one thing always rang true – that the more time you took to learn, to experience, the better things seemed to get. you had a bunch of shit friends in high school and now you’re friends with yuuji. you had four different majors before you picked marketing because it let you be creative. you’ve dated four different guys but you’re still looking for the one. 
that’s why you didn’t understand it – how people could be so one and done, on something so serious. granted, that’s probably how they end up with gold diggers. 
“do you have anything of hers?” you ask. 
satoru gives you a strange look, before digging his hand in his pocket, and fishing out his wallet. he opens up the little zipper, yanking a little silver necklace out of the leather, and placing it into the palm of your hand. 
you feel your eyes widen a little bit, sparkling diamonds set in a little circular mother of pearl design, as you run your fingers over it. you shake yourself out of it, looking over at him resting his forearms against his knees, expectantly waiting for an answer. 
“real cute. go throw it out of my window.” you state, handing it back to him. 
“i beg your pardon?” 
“so a window is an opening in the wall or roof that…” you start. 
he lightly shoves you, before clutching the necklace in his fist. 
“i can’t throw it out. it’s fucking expensive.” 
you roll your eyes. 
“that means nothing to you. you’re not throwing it away because you still like raggedy anne.” 
“raggedy anne?” he asks. 
“yuuji, katie, and i call her that. red hair kind of set that one up for us but…” 
his eyes widen, as he leans forward. 
“do you guys not like her?” he asks. 
you shrug, as you stand up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as you pull him closer to the window. the question catches you off guard – that he would care what the three of you would think. 
you peek your head out the window –  a few cars still milling on the street, the lights lazily changing, as he joins you and sticks his head out the window. 
“i can’t, honey bee.” he states. 
“yes, you can. it’s just a necklace.” 
“but what if she wants it back?” he asks. 
you fight the urge to slap him, as you stick your head back into the warmth of the apartment. he follows suit. 
“you would go back to her?” you ask. 
“i dunno. i –” 
“she would probably only want to get back together so she can get this fucking necklace back. because she’s a gold digger! screw her, surely you could do better than that!” 
satoru frowns, as he peaks out of the window again. and he makes the motion like he’s going to throw it before he looks back at you, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. 
“it’s limited edition. maybe i should sell it and –” 
“no. you’re going to throw it out of the window right now, on the count of three.” 
“i really don’t want to. we should do something easier first.” he whines.
“one.” you state. 
he panics. surely he couldn’t be serious. 
“this can’t be how normal people cope. i could hit someone and give them a black eye..” 
“two.” you scold. 
“maybe i don’t want to be a normal person. i think that this is all –” 
“three.” 
you snatch the necklace out of his open palm and throw it straight out of the window. it makes a little clinking sound when it finally hits the bottom, the two of you poking your heads out of the window to now see it tangled in the sewage gutter that’s been dirtied by the recent rain. 
“you threw her necklace.” satoru states, in exasperation. 
“when normal people can’t do it on their own, a trusted friend does it to keep them in line.” you state, pushing back into the apartment and wiping your hands. 
satoru follows behind you, his steps featherlike, as you reach for his phone and start scrolling through the contacts. he’s leaning his head over your shoulder, eyes wide as you pull up anne marie’s contact and hold it out to him. 
“you’re going to make me block her too?” he asks. 
“no. you should call her once and say some mean stuff and then block her.” 
satoru’s eyes widen. 
“mean stuff?” 
“call her. tell her she’s a gold digger. that you think her voice is annoying or something.” you add. 
satoru crosses his hands over his chest. 
“that’s not very mature.” 
“okay, but you’re back in dog years since you’ve been dating this girl forever. plus, i’d say it’s immature to be in a god knows how long relationship with someone just for their money. does she have any consideration for you?” 
satoru pauses, like he’s mulling the thought over. 
“if you don’t do it, you’re going to become even more weird and repressed than you are now.” you state 
“i’m not repressed!” he whines. 
“be immature! say a bunch of bullshit and then hang up! you’ll feel great – you…you’re supposed to do these types of things at least once. this is like a rite of passage.” 
satoru gives you a weary look as you lean forward, pressing the dial button. his eyes go wide as you start whispering, gesturing for him to do it. 
“hello? satoru?” anne marie says, voice confused.
there’s a considerable amount of sound behind the speaker, loud booming music making it very clear that raggedy anne is at the club while satoru’s moping it out in your apartment. 
“do it.” you whisper. 
“hi annie.” satoru murmurs. 
you roll your eyes at the nickname. 
“did you want something satoru?” she asks. 
“yeah. yeah, i just wanted to say…” satoru starts. 
“hold on one second.” she says. 
there’s a murmuring over the speaker, which she’s clearly covered, as you start whispering. tell her she’s annoying! she won’t even give you the time of day on a phone call!! 
“sorry, i’m back. i’m on a date right now so i was just trying to slip away.” 
satoru looks up at you. 
“you’re a bitch.” he murmurs. 
you fight the urge to laugh. 
“what did you say?” anne marie responds. 
“you’re a bitch.” he says louder. 
“good! say it again!” you whisper. 
satoru has the whisper of a smile on his face, the silent support goading him on, as he keeps talking. 
“you…you’re annoying. you have a really high pitched voice and every time you wake up in the morning, it gives me an ear splitting headache. and you…you look horrible in blue.”  
the choice of words is a little middle school, but you’ll give it to him. there was a first time for everything. 
“say something else.” you whisper. 
“is that a girl?” anne marie asks.
you both widen your eyes, before satoru quickly hangs up and start laughing. you note that for your standards that was horrendously tame, but the glint in his eyes seems to signify that it’s at least done something for him, because it’s the first time he properly smiles after entering your apartment. 
“how was that?” 
“fucking great! she sounded like an idiot!” he responds. 
“she sure did.” 
“now she’s probably wondering which girl i’m with and working herself over it.” he responds. 
you shake your head, pulling out the sheets to make the fold out bed for him properly, before you make your way back over to your own room. screaming middle school insults seems to sober him up enough, because he joins you in folding the sheets, a smile on his face. 
“have you done that before?” he asks. 
“done what?” you ask. 
“throw stuff out like that? call an ex-boyfriend?” 
you smile. 
“mhm. my first boyfriend irritated me so bad that i took everything he ever gave me – a dried up bouquet of flowers, a necklace, birthday cards and all that type of stuff – and threw it in a trash can outside of the bank i go to. and the calling, i did that once when my ex-boyfriend decided to go to san diego for a trip instead of meeting up with me. he made it pretty clear for a week that we were going to break up on that day and i had hyped myself up for it, just for him to not show up. so i got pissed and called him then and there.” you state. 
satoru’s floored.
“really? that’s such a dick move.” 
“i mean, s’pretty standard.” 
you’ve been on the carousel of assholes your entire life. but satoru shakes his head. 
“i can’t believe someone would even do that. that’s unusually cruel.” 
you forgot about that part. that with having experienced next to nothing, there’s a sense of naivety that comes with it too. 
or hope. whichever word speaks to you more – and at the current moment, it’s the latter, only because he seems so genuinely downtrodden by it – so genuinely believing that people are meant to be good and kind that he can’t fathom someone being mean and selfish just for the sake of it. 
you feel bad for him. 
“that it is. almost as cruel as dating someone just for their money.” you respond. 
satoru sighs. 
“yeah.” 
“that’s kind of the cool part now.” you respond. 
“what is?” 
you sit down flat on the bed, the sheets nicely tucked in and folded, as you pat the little spot next to you on the bed. he obliges, his legs stretching out a considerable distance past yours, as you cross your arms over your chest. 
“this is going to sound really weird, but some day you’re going to agree with me.” you state. 
“okay.” 
“you’re going to feel a lot of things in the next few months. and then after the fact, when you’re really truly over it, you’re going to realize how real all of that was.” 
“meaning?” 
you shrug. 
“you’re going to mope and listen to sad songs for a while. and those songs are going to hit like they’ve never hit before, you’re going to realize people have been writing about this exact feeling that you’re experiencing for years. you’ve just gone through a shared experience that almost everyone has, no matter who they are, of getting your heart shattered.” 
satoru’s never thought of it that way. granted, he’s only been thinking about it for three days, but still. 
“then you’re going to be pissed. you’re going to do a bunch of stupid stuff and you might even regret it a little bit, but that’s part of learning more about yourself. maybe you really do like to have the last word. maybe you can’t fathom it at all, seeing that person ever again. either way, you’re going to figure out something about yourself and it’s going to make it all the more worth it. that’s part of this entire thing – experiencing something new, doing things three, four, five times and fucking up each time, just to…get something out of it. figure out whatever you’ve got going on in this thing.” you respond, flicking at his forehead. 
satoru rubs the spot, glaring at you, as you shoot him a smile. 
“there’s no point in doing anything once. you’re going to live a really long life, were you really only going to date and love one girl the entire time? i know you must have more to give than that.” you state. 
“do you not believe in marriage?” he asks. 
you frown. 
“who said i don’t believe in marriage?” 
“i mean, you seem like so…hippie dippie. i get what you’re saying and…and i’m even inclined to believe you’re right…but where does that stop? you can’t go on experiencing things and people and loving forever?” 
you smile. 
“why do you think so little of marriage? do you really think all of that stops once you enter a relationship with someone?” 
satoru freezes. 
“you keep doing that stuff, but with the person you know is meant for you. clearly your relationship with raggedy anne must have been really, very boring, because getting to do new things together is the fun part. i’d argue that it’s even the point of even being together – growing into something new.” 
satoru thinks you're wise. he thinks that he’s still leftover drunk and whatever it is you’re saying is coming out like poetry to him, that it’s singing to the tune that’s been going on in the background of his head for the past year, because really – his relationship was very boring. 
it had gotten monotonous. maybe he stayed because he didn’t know anything different. maybe that’s why he was so obsessed with stalking your every move – making sly comments, finding mistakes in your reports - just because you were always so keen to give him a different answer, one he couldn’t predict, the only constant thing about you being that you were always different. 
“your brain looks like it’s working overtime. you should go to bed.” you state. 
“okay, yeah.” 
satoru is still drunk. somewhat drunk. maybe a little. 
it’s why he leans forward, to press a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. he notes that your eyes go wide, as you immediately lift your hand to press your fingers to the skin, your cheeks flushing pink. 
“i was hoping you were going to give me like a thousand dollars or something as a gift for being nice to you.” 
satoru grins. because again, it wasn’t the answer he was expecting at all. 
“i could do that too.” he states. 
you roll your eyes, before reaching forward to pinch his cheek. 
“shut up.” 
“you’re pretty.” 
you’re taken aback by the comment, leaning back to cross your hands over your chest, as you eye him again. messy hair, swollen eyes, and pink lips from the drinks. 
“you’re not that bad either. you look way better like this.” 
“like this?” 
“you know…no fancy mousse. creepy perfectly tailored suit. having a proper meltdown and all. not to be rude, but your distress might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” 
satoru scoffs. 
“you’re just jealous that i look so great all the time.” 
you shake your head. 
“not at all. i’m not into that at all – the whole perfect, rich boy thing.” 
satoru leans forward, eyes wide. 
“what are you into?” he asks. 
you smile. 
“did you really crash your car?” you ask. 
he groans. 
“you know about that?” 
you laugh. 
“i’m into that. you being a real person. i think you’re very funny when you’re drunk and you have the insults of a middle schooler. your hair looks very good when it’s all messed up like this and your very genuine enthusiasm and curiosity is very refreshing.” 
“yeah?” satoru whispers, a glint in his eyes. 
“mhm. don’t lose sleep over it, okay?” you respond, pinching his cheek as you shuffle your way over to your room. 
satoru watches as you retreat, your mismatched socks riding up to your ankles, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re right. if he had missed out. 
he hadn’t done anything. anything at all. you were three feet away – with an entire life he knew nothing about. the little scars on your arms were all a story, maybe from pulling something out of the stove too fast or falling on the pavement, and he can’t help but wonder what it all was. 
if he could still gain it all, after years of falling behind. 
satoru was always an overachiever. he was going to do this, he was going to do this now. 
satoru stands up, legs carrying him to the door of your bedroom, as he firmly knocks on the wood. he hears something that sounds like a thud, before you swing the door open, your eyes adjusting to the brightness outside to find him standing there. 
“it’s been one minute.” you deadpan. 
“can i sleep with you?” 
“i beg your pardon?” 
satoru sighs. 
“i’ve never slept in the same bed as someone.” 
“huh? you and raggedy anne never…” 
he shakes his head. 
“i mean, like once, but it was by accident. my penthouse has two beds and i don’t know what it feels like to…sleep next to someone.” 
you pause. and let your curiosity get the better of you. 
“are you a virgin?” 
“i am not a virgin.” 
you laugh at the irritation in his voice, before holding the door open wider and gesturing for him to walk into the room. 
“my bed isn’t that big.” you state. 
“that’s okay. just…please? let me?” 
you assume that saying no would be equivalent to kicking a dog while it’s down. it’s what you reason to yourself as you let him in, watching as he giggles at your stuffed animals and your glasses in the nightstand before he wraps his arms around you, his embrace warm around you. 
you swear he kisses your hairline. 
“did you just kiss me again?” 
“hey. i’m experiencing new things. i’ve got tons of places i have to kiss you on my list.” 
you snort.
“you’re bold.” you state. 
“and you’re really very sweet. i really like you, you know that?” 
you roll your eyes, before leaning back into his touch. it’s so innocent, so unlike any other guy you’ve talked too – so excited about kissing you on the top of your head. 
maybe it’s a little bit less pity than you anticipated. 
“do you ever think i could do that?” he asks. 
“do what?” 
“what you’re talking about? doing things four, five, six times…growing with someone and all that?” he asks. 
you sigh, before placing one of your hands over his. 
“yes, satoru. of course you can.” 
--
the following monday, you’re greeted by a little box on your desk. you open it up to a giftcard and four target candles, accompanied with a little note and his horrible chicken scratch handwriting. 
honey bee,  heard normal people give gift cards and candles as gifts. but i’m indecisive so there’s four candles. also, they’re custom made and really expensive so don’t throw them out to sass me or make a point or something :O  satoru 
and you see him an hour later, a cup of the cheap office coffee in his hand, as he walks around talking to everyone in the office. his tie is a little bit loose and his hair is unstyled – and you think that it’s interesting, that he had taken what you had said to heart. and your previous thought stands. 
that he really does look better this way. 
he makes his way over after twenty minutes, leaning down and basically pressing his cheek to yours as he looks at your monitor. 
“did you check your math?” he asks. 
“do you want me to shove a pencil down your throat?” you ask. 
satoru laughs and you can’t help but smile. 
“did you like my gift?” 
“yes. but i have a few notes.” 
satoru stands up properly, leaning against your desk with his hands crossed over his chest, as he gestures for you to talk. 
“do tell.” 
“when i say candle, i really do mean one candle. and you know, i meant like an eight dollar candle. like the shit ones that give you allergies.” 
“candles can give you allergies?” 
“i get watery eyes when they aren’t soy or natural.” you state.
“noted. what else?” 
“when i say gift card, i mean twenty bucks. not two thousand dollars.” 
satoru whines. 
“so many rules. you’re so high maintenance, honey bee.” he whines, cupping your chin in his hand and squeezing once, before shuffling back to his office. 
--
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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 9 months ago
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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader)
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Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Underage smoking, underage drinking, implied ED
Parts
Part 1// Part2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6
School trips were never really your thing. Sure it was good to be out of classes but to you it just seemed like an extension of school and honestly you’d rather be anywhere else.
One of the teachers thought it would be a bright idea to take you all out of school for a week to spend it in a forest ‘immersed in nature’. Possibly their tactic to get everyone to stop being at eachother a throats especially after the whole Cady incident a few months back.
It didn’t help that your best friends Janis and Damien both ended up getting sick at the last minute so couldn’t come with you , now you had to stay in your shared cabin alone. At least you didn’t have to room with a random person the whole trip, small mercies I guess.
The coach drive there was boring. You sat near the front, making sure to put your bag on the seat next to yours so nobody tried to sit with you. Of course Queen Regina and her minions took ownership of the back of the coach, that’s why you decided to sit upfront. Best to stay out of the firing line.
It’s not that you hated Regina, you understand why she’s the way she is. It’s a smart move to position yourself at the top of the food chain to avoid being mauled. Your tactic has always been to just steer clear of the food chain entirely which has worked so far.
The coach finally comes to a stop after a few hours and everyone shoves their way off and mills around in groups before a teacher starts to call out names and lodge numbers so people can go and unpack.
As soon as you turn the corner you hear Regina’s shriek of horror.
“Eww, what the fuck are these. I thought we were staying in chalets”
You roll you eyes. The cabins were clean, neat, maybe a little rustic. Of course Regina would still have to be dramatic about it.
“I’m sure forcing us to stay in one of these is some form of neglect.” She snarks at Mrs Norbury as she takes her hot pink suitcase over to her accommodation.
Luckily you get assigned one of the cabins at the edge of the forest, it’ll be quiet. Unfortunately it’s the next cabin over from the plastics. Not that they’ll even notice you there, I’m not sure any of them even know your name. It feels safe to be invisible, if not a bit lonely.
Once everyone is settled, a teacher comes round to each cabin explaining that tonight you can just get settled. No hiking or activities today, just a campfire and dinner later. That suits you perfectly. You sit on the creaky bed in your cabin, pull out your Switch console and start to get lost in a game. Hours pass before dinner call and you make your way, alone to the campfire.
You sit on your own, out of the way of all the different high school cliques. At this point you wish Janis and Damien were here. It feels vulnerable sitting alone.
To distract yourself you watch the other groups like a documentary maker. Noting the way they interact, the tension between them and the clique next to them. However nobody quite catches your eye like Regina.
She’s like a lioness. She has this invisible hold over everyone. They can all fuck about in their own groups but as soon as someone steps a foot out of place she roars and swishes her mane and everyone scampers back to obedience.
Currently she’s sitting at a bench with Gretchen and Karen, they’re talking enthusiastically about their plans for the trip; makeovers, cabin decoration, girly shit. Regina seems zoned out, she’s been pushing the same bit of food around her plate for a good 15 minutes. Every few minutes it’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, rearranging everything until teachers tell us to go back to our cabins and rest for the evening. You’re not sure you saw her eat a single thing, the food is probably not up to her standards.
Regina stands and suddenly seems snapped out of her trance, flashing a grin and summoning Karen and Gretchen back to the cabin with her.
You follow, a good distance behind. No point getting too close to danger, and slip back to your Cabin unnoticed.
There’s not much to do alone in a forest so you end up putting on a movie and start a new page in your sketchbook. Janis and Damien are the only ones to know you draw. That’s how you ended up speaking with Janis in the first place. If that news ever got back to Regina she’d probably have something to finally pick on you for, but so far you aren’t even on her radar.
You lose a lot of time sketching out some of the trees you can see out of the window, lots of tall, looming pines fill the page, you start to sketch a lion between the trees.
Eventually darkness creates a blanket around the forest. There’s a soft glow from many lamps outside of cabin doors, but past that, the forest seems endless in the dark. It’s 10:30pm. Teachers are fast asleep. Students definitely are not.
You hear snickering coming from the plastics cabin. Their lights are still on, not that you care at all.
Since all the teachers are asleep you decide that it’s probably safe to sneak out and have a cigarette. You stand down the side of the cabin so that your silhouette is obscured slightly by a bush and hunt through your pockets for a lighter. Finally you light the cigarette, trying to blow the smoke downwind, away from the teachers window.
“Karen! Fuck! Would you just stop puking, shut up!”
You watch from the shadow as Karen falls out of the door and begins to heave into the bush next to their window. Gretchen follows quickly, shaking Karen by the shoulders, desperately trying to get her to shut up so they don’t wake anyone. Regina steps out too, slightly loosing balance and nearly falling down the steps after them.
Clearly they’re all drunk. Someone must have snuck alcohol in.
Regina tries to keep a composed look but you see panic flash across her face briefly as her eyes scan around them, watching for any witnesses. You stay completely still against the cabin wall.
Karen finally stops for a second and they grab her by the arms to try and get her back inside. Their balance isn’t very good either and on the way in Regina’s foot connects briefly with a terracotta plant pot which wobbles for a second and then crashes to the ground, smashing over the front step. A sound that cuts through the night air.
The light to the teachers cabin flicks on.
You quickly drop the cigarette and stomp it out before silently scrambling back into your room, making sure the door closes soundlessly, watching intently through the window.
Mrs Norbury storms over to the plastics lodge, already suspecting they caused the noise.
You can’t make out exactly what’s being said. There’s a lot of shouting, from both parties. Then Mrs Norbury leaves, and the plastics light goes off too.
You quickly get into bed. It’s unlikely anyone will check in on you, but you decide it’s time to sleep anyway, it’s late, and drift off to the sound of the wind through trees. The wind sounds faintly like a roar.
In the morning you shower and begin to get changed when there’s a knock at your door.
“Regina will be rooming with you for the rest of the week, make sure she doesn’t try sneaking out.”
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miupow · 10 months ago
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⭑𓂃 GETTING STONED W/ TXT .ᐟ ୭ ˚. [ HEADCANONS]
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☆〜(ゝ。∂)txt x gn!reader ⋆ cw// drugs/marijuana mentions! sfw, tooth rotting fluff <𝟑 kissing, cuddling, implied established relationships
⤷ what i imagine it's like smoking with the boys . . .
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연준 YEONJUN
i imagine him high is a lot like him drunk lol
soft, sleepy, cuddly and just the biggest baby whining that he wants kisses now
likes using your lap as a pillow for his head, the type to nuzzle his face in your belly and wrap his arms tight around you-- won't you play with his hair? tell him what an amazingwonderfulhandsome boyfriend he is?
tries very hard not to fall asleep on you but fails every time
pls take care of him :(
finds the other boys annoying when they're high lol but still does it with them because they're his baby brothers and he loves them no matter how much they piss him off <33
cannot smoke without you because he'd spend the entire sesh going "where's my baby?? i wanna see my baby, i miss them so much :(("
수빈 SOOBIN ⭑𓂃
the kind to just stare blankly at the wall for hours
"bin, you okay?" "uh huh..."
probably gets sensory overload easily, don’t have too much going on at once or he’ll get a headache :<
soogyu is my dream blunt rotation im gonna be honest they're so fucking funny they just be sayin shit
high bin says the some of funniest things you've ever heard in your life but he has no idea he's even being funny
"why are you laughing at me??? :(("
gasps when you tell him you love him even though you tell him every day
“REALLY??? I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”
will get into the dumbest arguments, especially with gyu?? “what do you think would happen if you put a werewolf on the moon…” “what the hell is wrong with you??”
“no, dumbass, that’s not even how ufos work. look it up.”
범규 BEOMGYU ⭑𓂃
true delulu headcanon time here but hear me out okay
he's so crazy adhd brain high energy when he's sober but i feel like when he's stoned he's so. chill?
put a movie on or something and he'll be quiet for hours he's just so transfixed by the moving colors and lights
just wants to cuddle with you in silence or like. talk about deep shit
you honestly kind of love it because you'll have conversations about your future and your relationship that gyu wouldn't take seriously sober
he's very upfront and straightforward with his feelings when he's stoned, which is so unlike him
says some corny shit with stars in his eyes like "i wanna spend forever with you" and then regrets it later because he sounded like a dweeb
he's so whipped for you and he can't hide it :<
let him lay on your chest, playing with his long pretty hair, calling him beomie while he looks up at you with hazy, unfocused but so in love eyes
again soogyu = dream blunt rotation gyu is so funny
“do crabs think fish are flying??” type mf i love him very much
태현 TAEHYUN ⭑𓂃
this might be an unpopular opinion but tyun is absolutely the biggest stoner out of the five of them
i feel like he would smoke to relax, not necessarily to get high-- he's on stress overdrive 24/7, especially during comeback season,, he smokes to finally make his brain go quiet for at least a night
big social smoker but also enjoys smoking alone or just with you
i see him the most like his sober self, quiet and content and not really paying much attention to anything
normally you have to fight him to get his picture taken but when he's stoned he'll just let you shove a camera in his face and you love it sm,, "tyunnie!! baby! smile!"
very content with letting you sit on his lap while he zones out, nuzzling his neck-- he loves feeling needed, loves taking care of you
thinks everyone else is very entertaining, just enjoys watching his brothers act like idiots
he's such a bottled up guy, doesn't like to show or talk about how he's feeling ;; but he'll open up easily once you get him loosened up
휴닝카이 HUENING KAI ⭑𓂃
i want to smoke with this boy so bad. it's not even funny.
he's so cuddly and sweet and giggly,,, i lob him,,
he gets too out of it to kiss you so he makes your plushies kiss eachother instead hehe
kiss his freckles :< just give him so many smooches all over his face while he laughs that it tickles
spooning is a need not a want. he'd rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you soso close while you lay on his bed watching a movie ;;
like soobin he probably gets overstimulated easily,, he needs the lights off and he likes when you wear soft/fuzzy clothes,, ur his plushie now :<
will not let you get up for anything at all. will literally follow you to the bathroom and wait outside of the door like a puppy
SOOO much skinship he needs to touch and be touched so badly
goes totally nonverbal when he's stoned. will not say a word for hours
TUMMY RUBS also lays his head on your belly ;;
thinks literally everything is funny. show him a picture of like. a horse and he'd laugh at it
592 notes · View notes
am-i-interrupting · 10 months ago
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Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.
Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink
He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.
Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.
He was angry.
He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.
Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.
He recognized you. Why?
He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.
Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.
He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.
You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.
He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.
He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.
Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.
It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.
He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.
“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.
“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.
“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.
“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”
He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”
You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.
You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.
“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”
“To have a good time.”
“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”
The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.
“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.
“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”
“It’s one I play often.”
“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”
Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.
He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.
Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.
“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.
“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”
“I am not—“
“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”
For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.
He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.
He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.
He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.
He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.
He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.
He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.
He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.
“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”
“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”
“Contracted?”
“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”
You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.
“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”
“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”
He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“
“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”
You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.
His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.
You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.
“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.
He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.
The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.
Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.
“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”
“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”
“True, but—“
You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.
“Oh, fuck.”
“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”
“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”
“I could be.”
You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.
You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”
You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.
You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.
He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.
He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.
You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.
“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.
“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”
You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”
He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.
You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.
“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”
“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.
Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.
“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”
You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.
“Good,” he choked out.
You hummed against his skin.
He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.
You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.
“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.
A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.
He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.
He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.
You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.
“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”
“Oh fuck.”
You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”
His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”
“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”
You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.
You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.
You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.
Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.
He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.
Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.
He could cum from just this alone.
However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.
“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”
The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.
He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.
You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.
You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.
Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.
You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.
“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.
His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.
When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.
He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?
God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.
“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”
“Fuck, please don’t.”
“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”
That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.
“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.
You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.
You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”
“Fuck.”
He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.
He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.
You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.
The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.
A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.
You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.
“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”
You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”
He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.
He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.
“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.
Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.
He rolled your clit between two knuckles.
“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”
He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.
He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.
Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.
“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.
He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?
“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.
“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.
“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.
“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.
He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”
“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.
A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.
That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.
The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:
I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction
You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention
I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be
He’s down on his knees begging me with please
Better than any of his fantasies
Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction
370 notes · View notes
hughiecampbelle · 5 months ago
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The Boys Preference: Reader Having A Chronic Illness
Inspired By: @thatstonedwriter and their adorable fic Pain In The Ass (Butcher x Chronic Illness!Reader) Please go check it out! I absolutely love it!!! 💕
A/N: Butcher looks so good in that gif oml 🫣 Anyways lol I can only speak for my own issues when I say it's absolutely the most frustrating thing I've ever dealt with. I wanted to keep it vague enough so as many people as possible could relate instead of just for the stomach problem/joint pain/fever babes :P Not requested, but something that's been on my mind!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜
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Butcher, truthfully, worries a lot. Unlike Hughie, who has that worry written all over his face, Butcher is a lot more secretive about it. On the outside, he seems unbothered. Unfazed. When you finally admitted you're in a lot of pain and might not be able to take part in the mission, he gives you a "new" job back at the office that you can totally do from the couch under variously temperatured pads. Only a few times have you seen his mask of cool slip, especially when you were in serious pain/had to go the hospital. He didn't realize it was that serious, that it could get that serious. He might be hesitant to visit you, and does it out of the hours, but you'll wake up to him sitting next to you. He'll flip through a magazine like it's not shocking he's even there. He'll ask how you're feeling and get a nurse if you need one. He's awkward and at time hostile, but he really does mean to be thoughtful and affectionate. It just never comes out right.
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Hughie, at first, kinda freaks out. Internally, of course. You can sense his panic, though. You assure him it comes in phases, in flare ups, and that eventually, hopefully, it will go into remission. You don't sugar coat it though. You want to be upfront about everything, even the more embarrassing symptoms like, for example, numerous trips to the bathroom. He's very attentive, even to things you don't even realize you're doing. He learns all your remedies and is quick to ask if you can handle xyz. He doesn't want to baby you, he makes that clear, but he can't imagine the pain you're in constantly and just wants to be there for you. Your favorite thing is when he sits with you and holds your hand or rubs your back. He'll watch TV and do research for the team and just be there for you. He knows there's not a lot that'll make you feel better, but being there for you is the least he can do, especially when nothing else is working.
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Annie is a planner. She comes up with a plan for everything, especially if your health takes a turn for the worse. She's always there if you need anything. She carries her own pharmacy in her bag, not just for you, but there are all of your favorite remedies in there just in case. She doesn't make a big show if you need anything. She's always offering gum and mints and bandaids to everyone. Her rummaging around in her purse isn't too out of the norm. Like M.M. she does a lot of her own research and, like Kimiko, asks you a lot of questions. She wants to know what's typical pain and what's atypical. She worries about you, especially when you push yourself too hard thinking you're not good for the team unless you're useful. Everyone needs to rest regardless of illness or not. She'll invite you to watch a movie or listen to her Starlight House speech/plans as a sneaky way of getting you to rest with her. She knows you're not incapable, she just worries you're hurting yourself trying to prove your worth when everyone on the team already sees that worth, sees that they need you.
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M.M. researches as much as possible. He wants to know what's wrong, what helps, what doesn't, the complications, everything. He knows you've got your own system, your own remedies, so he stocks up on everything you use and need and keeps it at his place/in his car so you don't have to worry. You try not to complain about it, to keep it to yourself, everyone in your life being less than enthusiastic when they listen, but he makes it known you can come to him no matter what. He's always checking in with you quietly, so as not to make a big deal about it, trying to make accommodations when you need them. You're thankful for him and his approach. He doesn't see you as your illness, rather a person with an illness that can come and go. He never puts limitations when you're feeling well unless you warn him otherwise. You swear Marvin is better than any doctor you've ever been to, since he recommends so many methods to ease your discomfort. He wants to stay well informed.
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Frenchie wants to fix everything with food. It's how he shows his love. Especially if you have stomach issues, he'll stick to whatever diet or restrictions you need. He always some sort of extremely strong pain reliever that you only take when things get bad. He's always willing to listen to you and, of course, will accompany you to any doctors appointment. If you're in the hospital, he visits you every day. He makes it seem a lot less scary. Frenchie has a lot of pain from his scars and just life in general, so he completely understands when you're not up for something. He's extremely affectionate with his nicknames and never makes you feel bad for not being able to take part in missions. He loves nothing more than staying up and watching movies with you on especially painful days/nights. And he will defend you to anyone, especially friends and family, who say things like it's all in your head or it isn't that bad. Looooots of swearing at them in French, too.
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Kimiko, like Frenchie, comes to your defense so fast is *almost* comical. Kimiko is signing angrily at ignorant doctors and friends who just don't understand, you or Frenchie translating for her. It really warms your heart. She is so gentle with you. She doesn't want to cause any more pain or harm than there already is. Whether it's a heating pad for your joints or a cool towel for your head, she places it so gently that you barely feel it. Kimiko loves the dark jokes you make about literally falling apart. It hurts her to see you in so much pain and discomfort. She asks you what it feels like so she can better understand. Because Kimiko heals so well, pain is different for her. She's always checking in with you, asking you how you're feeling. She doesn't make a big deal out of it, it's just regular small talk. You're thankful Kimiko makes it seem so normal whereas others would blow it out of proportion and make it this huge deal every time.
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jams-sims · 20 days ago
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I wouldnt be surprised, if Ragtha and Jax share their emotional eposide together. Because they mirror one another alot Jaz loud and upfront, seems like Ragtha gonna be the silent judgement one.
Jax devil may care attutude; if everyone hates me, I can't get hurt. This is a front i use to hide the fact i'm scared, hurting, or having normal emotions in general. I'm the asshole that you know is an asshole and expect nothing else from me. Yet secertly, it still hurts that no one really likes me. I'm very insecure about my image.
Classic pushes people away-
Ragtha people pleaser; I'll do everything in my power to make sure, i'm liked even tho I hate everyone. Its a mask I put on because what will I do if no one likes me? I'll be alone. An yet my kindness is seen as fake. But because, i've put on this act for so long, I can't suddenly change. But now my emotions are over flowing and I can't processes them because doing so means I have to confront some thing, I don't want to. I don't wanna be an asshole, but I may just be an asshole.
If your nice all the time and suddenly snap and say something out of pocket; compared to the guy who always says something out of pocket. You are seen as worse, because everyone knows the guy is an asshole but you, your suppose to be nice.
I can see the eposide riding off of Ragtha high as she is still high at the end of tadc 4. Jax says something out of pocket and because, he remembers what she said while high. He uses that to push her button. Forces her to snap, because now he knows how she truly feels. An it hurt his feeling, so now everyone gonna catch some strays. Maybe it will eve be an ep where Ragtha snaps at pomni. But everyone will forgive Ragtha by the end or at the very least they will sit among eachother and try to forgive. But Jax is extra bad in this ep and he just sulks off somewhere.
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useeer · 8 months ago
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Dance with me?
Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader
You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.
Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo
Enjoy!!
[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]
You weren't exactly a party person.
Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun. 
Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.
It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.
The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.
You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? 
While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there. 
Man. You were bored.
You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.
And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.
If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake. 
Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate. 
"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.
"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.
"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.
"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.
They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.
God, you needed to sit down. 
You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed! 
Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!
You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid. 
You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat. 
Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.
Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.
Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat. 
"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling. 
Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.
"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone. 
"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.
God. Please just go away...
They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.
"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.
"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food." 
Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time. 
"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this. 
"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating. 
"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.
"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve. 
You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.
Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen. 
"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.
They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it. 
 
"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.
"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.
"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat. 
"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing. 
"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.
You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"
They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not. 
"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags. 
Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"
You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."
They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat. 
Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.
Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all. 
They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.
"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap. 
"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction. 
"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.
They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work. 
"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of." 
They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.
"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.
Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.
Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures. 
The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.
The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"
They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.
You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.
You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case. 
Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.
Damn.
You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.
And well... who are you to deny them?
Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.
Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.
Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.
"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.
They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.
We've got nowhere to go
We've got nothing to prove
Instead of dancing alone
I should be dancing with you
The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.
"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!" 
"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you. 
"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk. 
They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.
They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you. 
Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up. 
It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released. 
You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.
"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them. 
"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.
"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life. 
Do I wanna know?
If these feelings flow both ways.
Sad to see you go.
Sorta hoping that you'd stay.
Baby we both know.
That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.
That you can't say tomorrow day.
Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.
Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think. 
The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.
The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.
"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.
“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.
Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.
You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.
"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off. 
You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.
“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.
You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.
They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness. 
"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.
"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.
Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking. 
Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.
Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.
271 notes · View notes
mxl633 · 2 months ago
Note
mina and yn are childhood friends where they discovered their feelings when yn get into a relationship with a guy out of guilt. later on, yn decided to break up with the guy and confront mina about her feelings for mina. then they kissed! happy ending for these lebanese !!!! 🙏🙏🙏
Bet!! Hope I’ll make u proud w this one
Realisation
Myoui Mina x Reader
synopsis: Y/N and Mina have been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything from dreams to secrets. But when Y/N enters a relationship with a kind guy, things don’t feel right. She realizes her heart isn’t truly in it, and that her feelings for Mina are more than just friendship.
Warnings: a little angsty but happy ending!
Word count : 1k
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Y/N and Mina had known each other forever, or at least that’s what it felt like. Their lives had been woven together from childhood, sharing the same neighborhood, the same schools, and all of the countless experiences that made up growing up. They were each other’s person, sharing everything, from dreams of the future to confessions whispered under the stars.
For Y/N, Mina was like her second half, someone who understood her without words and made life feel complete. They’d always been close too close people would sometimes tease. But it was just friendship. Or so Y/N thought.
Everything changed the day Y/N met him. He was a nice guy, the kind of guy everyone wanted: considerate, funny, and smart. Y/N wasn’t really looking for a relationship, but his attention felt good. He was patient, he listened, and he was persistent in showing how much he liked her. So, when he finally asked her out, Y/N surprised even herself by saying yes.
Mina had been there, smiling and encouraging as always, but Y/N could sense something change. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—a slight tightening of Mina’s smile when Y/N mentioned her boyfriend, or the way she sometimes looked away when they were all together. But Y/N brushed it off, believing it was just part of the adjustment that came with having a new relationship.
Months passed, and Y/N began feeling the weight of her decision. Her boyfriend was kind and thoughtful, but something felt missing, an emptiness she couldn’t ignore. They didn’t click in the way she had always thought a couple should. Instead, she often found herself thinking of Mina, wondering what she would think of things, wanting to spend time with her instead of him. There was a comfort with Mina, a connection that seemed unbreakable—and she started to realize how much she missed it.
One evening, they were out for dinner, celebrating her boyfriend’s birthday with a small group of friends. Mina was there too, sitting across the table, her gaze occasionally meeting Y/N’s before flitting away. At one point, their eyes locked, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat—a jolt of warmth and familiarity that made her question everything.
That night, Y/N couldn’t sleep. She lay awake, thinking about Mina, about the way she felt when they were together, about the laughs they shared, and the way Mina made her feel seen in a way that no one else did. She realized that all the moments that had really mattered to her had Mina in them, and she’d been running from something she couldn’t hide anymore.
The next day, Y/N ended her relationship. She was upfront with him, admitting that she didn’t feel what she thought she should and apologizing for stringing him along. He was understanding, if a little heartbroken, and told her he had suspected as much.
With a heavy heart, Y/N went to see Mina, hoping to clear the air. She knew she couldn’t keep her feelings hidden any longer, no matter how scary it was to confront them. She found Mina in the park under their favorite tree, the one they used to sit under as kids, dreaming of all the things they wanted to do when they grew up.
Y/N took a seat beside her, and they sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the breeze rustling the leaves.
“I broke up with him,” Y/N finally said, her voice a mix of relief and uncertainty.
Mina glanced over, her expression unreadable. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am,” Y/N replied, looking down at her hands. “It just didn’t feel right. I kept trying to convince myself it would… but my heart wasn’t in it.”
Mina was quiet, but Y/N could feel the tension between them. It was as if an invisible wall had been growing, one she couldn’t ignore anymore. She took a shaky breath and looked over at Mina, gathering the courage she didn’t know she had.
“Mina, there’s something I need to tell you.” She paused, her heart racing as Mina looked at her, curiosity and something else in her eyes. “I kept telling myself I didn’t have feelings for you. That it was just a phase, or… maybe just something I was imagining.” She felt her cheeks grow hot. “But I wasn’t, was I?”
Mina’s eyes softened, her gaze never leaving Y/N’s. “I… I thought I was the only one who felt this way. I didn’t want to say anything because I was afraid of ruining what we had.” Her voice was a whisper, but it was filled with a vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart ache.
“Mina, you mean everything to me,” Y/N said, reaching out to take Mina’s hand. “I thought I was supposed to feel that way about him, but it was always you. It’s always been you.”
Mina’s lips curved into a small, trembling smile, and Y/N felt her pulse quicken. There was no need for any more words. Slowly, tentatively, she leaned in, and Mina met her halfway. Their lips met in a gentle, heartfelt kiss, filled with all the feelings they had kept hidden for so long.
The world around them seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them, finally where they belonged. When they pulled back, their foreheads touched, and Y/N could see the joy in Mina’s eyes—a happiness that mirrored her own.
They sat there in the golden afternoon light, fingers intertwined and hearts open, both knowing that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, something that had been waiting for them all along.
And for the first time, Y/N felt at peace, knowing that her heart was exactly where it was meant to be: with Mina.
A/N: it was a little rushed but I hope you like it!!
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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year ago
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Homebrew Mechanic: Meaningful Research
Being careful about when you deliver information to your party is one of the most difficult challenges a dungeonmaster may face, a balancing act that we constantly have to tweak as it affects the pacing of our campaigns.
That said, unlike a novel or movie or videogame where the writers can carefully mete out exposition at just the right time, we dungeonmasters have to deal with the fact that at any time (though usually not without prompting) our players are going to want answers about what's ACTUALLY going on, and they're going to take steps to find out.
To that end I'm going to offer up a few solutions to a problem I've seen pop up time and time again, where the heroes have gone to all the trouble to get themselves into a great repository of knowledge and end up rolling what seems like endless knowledge checks to find out what they probably already know. This has been largely inspired by my own experience but may have been influenced by watching what felt like several episodes worth of the critical role gang hitting the books and getting nothing in return.
I've got a whole write up on loredumps, and the best way to dripfeed information to the party, but this post is specifically for the point where a party has gained access to a supposed repository of lore and are then left twiddling their thumbs while the dm decides how much of the metaplot they're going to parcel out.
When the party gets to the library you need to ask yourself: Is the information there to be found?
No, I don't want them to know yet: Welcome them into the library and then save everyone some time by saying that after a few days of searching it’s become obvious the answers they seek aren’t here. Most vitally, you then either need to give them a new lead on where the information might be found, or present the development of another plot thread (new or old) so they can jump on something else without losing momentum.
No, I want them to have to work for it:  your players have suddenly given you a free “insert plothook here” opportunity. Send them in whichever direction you like, so long as they have to overcome great challenge to get there. This is technically just kicking the can down the road, but you can use that time to have important plot/character beats happen.
Yes, but I don’t want to give away the whole picture just yet:  The great thing about libraries is that they’re full of books, which are written by people,  who are famously bad at keeping their facts straight. Today we live in a world of objective or at least peer reviewed information but the facts in any texts your party are going to stumble across are going to be distorted by bias. This gives you the chance to give them the awnsers they want mixed in with a bunch of red herrings and misdirections. ( See the section below for ideas)
Yes, they just need to dig for it:  This is the option to pick if you're willing to give your party information upfront while at the same time making it SEEM like they're overcoming the odds . Consider having an encounter, or using my minigame system to represent their efforts at looking for needles in the lithographic haystack. Failure at this system results in one of the previous two options ( mixed information, or the need to go elsewhere), where as success gets them the info dump they so clearly crave.
The Art of obscuring knowledge AKA Plato’s allegory of the cave, but in reverse
One of the handiest tools in learning to deliver the right information at the right time is a sort of “slow release exposition” where you wrap a fragment lore the party vitally needs to know in a coating of irrelevant information,  which forces them to conjecture on possibilities and draw their own conclusions.  Once they have two or more pieces on the same subject they can begin to compare and contrast, forming an understanding that is merely the shadow of the truth but strong enough to operate off of. 
As someone who majored in history let me share some of my favourite ways I’ve had to dig for information, in the hopes that you’ll be able to use it to function your players.
A highly personal record in the relevant information is interpreted through a personal lens to the point where they can only see the information in question 
Important information cameos in the background of an unrelated historical account
The information can only be inferred from dry as hell accounts or census information. Cross reference with accounts of major historical events to get a better picture, but everything we need to know has been flattened into datapoints useful to the bureaucracy and needs to be re-extrapolated.
The original work was lost, and we only have this work alluding to it. Bonus points if the existent work is notably parodying the original, or is an attempt to discredit it.
Part of a larger chain of correspondence, referring to something the writers both experienced first hand and so had no reason to describe in detail. 
The storage medium (scroll, tablet, arcane data crystal) is damaged in some way, leading to only bits of information being known. 
Original witnesses Didn’t have the words to describe the thing or events in question and so used references from their own environment and culture. Alternatively, they had specific words but those have been bastardized by rough translations. 
Tremendously based towards a historical figure/ideology/religion to the point that all facts in the piece are questionable.  Bonus points if its part of a treatise on an observably untrue fact IE the flatness of earth
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shysublimecoffee · 1 month ago
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I'd rather deal with Lila than Ladybug. At least Lila is upfront about her intentions. If she wants to hype herself up to impress her classmates, fine—go ahead. The moment you catch on to her game, it’s obvious what she’s about. She'd loose the veil and tell it how it is. She'd hate and destroy you if you continue to piss her off but hey at least she's truthful.
But Marinette? Oh, girl is something else. She’ll manipulate and use you like a tool and then discard you looking at you CN. And after what went down with Adrien in the London special? Who even needs enemies when you’ve got a friend like her, am I right? Lmao
The moment this girl entered his life, everything went downhill. She really had his friends and family lying to his face and keeping secrets under wraps. Sure, it was their decision—but seriously, Kagami? Girl, what happened to you? You used to be cool and honest, and now look at you.
It’s like every character who crosses paths with Ladybug gets sucked into this void where they lose all individuality and turn into her loyal yes-men. They stop feeling like actual characters. Its why I'm more pressed with her. They can't help it. Honestly, the only way to maintain your personality in Miraculous Ladybug is to be a villain or antagonist to Marinette. The second you join her "good side," it’s like an unspoken rule—you become just another follower in her shadow.
Imagine meeting a girl over a year ago, and in that short time, she’s managed to get Nathalie, Kagami (your former girlfriend), your cousin, Alya, Alix—basically everyone—to lie and keep secrets about what actually went down.
This girl caused so much damage, she might as well be the villain! Honestly, if isolating him and keeping him to herself was her intended plan, I’d almost respect the hustle. But no, we’re all just living in Marinette’s world, like she’s the center of the universe. Lmao.
The situation is so complex! Bitch no who said that?? lol. I feel like if it were anyone not Adrien in this situation she wouldn't really care now would she? Her rationale would be there and because the situation is distant she'd know the crimes have to be exposed. But her controlling nature really be there to anyone closest to her. Like she's toxic for real damn. I'd rather be her enemy then her friend because if this is how her intentions are then please keep her away from me.
Once the truth gets out, it’s not just Adrien she’ll have to face—it’s the entire world. Think about it: all the people whose pain was exploited and weaponized by Hawk Moth, their suffering turned into tools of destruction. And Ladybug? If her lies were exposed, and this show actually had the guts to go there, wouldn’t people start having conspiracy theories and questioning how far in is her involvement? She’s not just lying to the public about the true identity of Monarch; she’s actively hiding Tomoe and Nathalie—Gabriel’s partners-in-crime. That’s not just scandalous—it’s outright criminal. How does she justify covering for them? At what point does her so-called “protection” cross into outright betrayal?
She only has the audacity to pull this off because she’s hiding behind that mask. If her identity were ever revealed and the dominoes started falling, the trust people have in her would be obliterated in an instant. Imagine the fallout if everyone on the street—or even her own parents—found out the absolute shame. And spare me the whole “I lie to protect your feelings” excuse. This isn’t some harmless white lie, like pretending someone looks good in a dress when you secretly think otherwise. No, this is a catastrophic betrayal of trust, all to preserve her relationship with Adrien. And don’t come at me with the “she’s young” defense. Sure, she’s 14, but she made a very adult choice: to lie to the entire world—and especially Adrien—about his father being Hawk Moth. There’s no excusing that. You can't come back from that sometimes our words can have such a big impact and because to the world she is Ladybug her influence on the people is big people expect a superhero to be above that because she's supposed to be the protector of Paris.
I think many need to separate Marinette from Ladybug because this isn’t about civilian Marinette and her personal struggles because it doesn't matter. This is about Ladybug—the symbol of superheroism, the paragon of justice and integrity, at least what she’s perceived to be within her universe. Ladybug stands as an icon, someone the public looks up to and trusts implicitly. But when you peel back the layers, it’s clear she’s fallen. She didn’t just make a mistake; she failed to uphold the very code she’s meant to represent.
Superheroes are supposed to stand for truth, accountability, and the protection of others, even at great personal cost. Ladybug, however, has chosen to conceal life-altering truths and protect the guilty under the guise of “greater good.” In doing so, she’s betrayed not only Adrien but also the very principles that define a hero. And that failure strikes at the heart of her role as the so-called ideal of justice.
I really wonder how early Season 1 Marinette/Ladybug—or even the version of her before she was granted the Kwami of Creation—would feel if she saw her Season 5 counterpart. Would she even recognize herself? How would she process the distance between who she was and who she’s become?
Honestly, I’ve always had this sense, so I’m not exactly surprised. But after the special, it just confirmed something for me.
No matter how much the show tries to sell the idea that Adrien/CN and Ladybug are equals—no matter how many fluttering words or hugs they throw in—the truth is clear: Marinette will never see Adrien as her equal. And what does a lie with such vast and far-reaching consequences say about her character? It doesn’t matter how it was never meant to come off—because, truthfully, sometimes her actions speak louder than anything else. The way she behaves, the decisions she makes, they reveal far more about her character than any intentions or explanations ever could.
It tells you one thing for sure: You can be her Girlfriend her BestFriends or her closest working partner since the beginning of your debut. But if there is one thing you'd ever need to know best about her. You can never truly trust Marinette/Ladybug.
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a-twistedheartslonging · 9 months ago
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About your non human au
Got a bit of a ramble plus a question but it's a bit long
How open to cuddling are the Nrc folks? Or more like, how willing and upfront/obvious about wanting scritches and pets is everyone in Nonhuman au. I was wondering where on the sliding scale of "unabashedly unashamedly asking for cuddles" vs "i totally do not want cuddles but if you don't give attention to me i will be upset for completely unrelated reasons that have nothing to do with not being petted and cuddled"
(also due to my garbo memory, i can't remember if basically the majority of all of NRC is now nonhuman in this au but i do recall that humans are rare so I'm gonna put in the other NRC folks too in case also cause it's fun)
I feel like the most upfront and unabashed about demanding or asking for scritches would be Lilia of course. Followed by Ace (i feel like he's desperately trying to act smug and jokey about it but he will be genuinely upset if you turn him down or worse get annoyed and actually go to someone else). Deuce i feel like wouldn't necessarily be super upfront (he's uber embarrassed and doesn't know how to go about communicating that) but he will do what he thinks will get what he wants without being too pushy. Lots of Deuce being fairly clingy and lots of casual leaning on reader/yuu but Deuce would get flustered easily i believe and he doesn't have the word weaving skills like Ace to try to bluff his way out. Also Floyd will give Lilia a run for his money with how vocal and willing to go get his damn cuddles. Kalim as well but he's not as likely to gun for Reader/Yuu like Lilia or Floyd. More of an impromptu decision based on encounters.
Cater, Trey, Jack, maybe even Ruggie and Jade are less openly vocal and pushy about their scritches and cuddles. They are more likely to be casual i believe and also try to sneak in their wants. However they probably won't deny nor completely avoid the want for pets or grooming. Rook can technically be placed here too cause i feel like he wants to have attention on him but also he wants his little mischievous chase games in the mix (he's being chased and the reward is pets) but he doesn't want to miss out on that relaxation time just in case the lil human can't keep up. Some good old Rook complexity in there involving wanting to be accepted to be seen and to see beauty but also an odd sense of trepidation and almost shyness, he might even half joke about how you're trying to tame him and that you should be responsible for those you tame
The last group definitely feels like the type to never outright demand or ask for cuddles scritches or pets but they will be soo petty and irritated if they think they're not getting their due attention. Jealous tsunderes to me lol. Leona, Vil, Riddle, Idia and Malleus go in this category but for different reasons. Leona and Vil just have a lot of pride and an image they're trying to uphold. Riddle and Idia are soo touch starved and socially awkward that they both don't know how to go about communicating what they want but also they don't know how to handle it when they're actually interacting. (riddle is so socially awkward but he at least has a plethora of rules to work off of unlike idia). Malleus is awkward and out of his depth so i think he just wouldn't know how to express what he wants but he's very jealous of the others for getting their own cuddles so easily in comparison
Loving the ideas you got!
I do love a good ramble.
Ok, so
“How open to cuddling are the Nrc folks?” 
With the guys at that school in general It's sort of a case-by-case type thing and depends on the person in particular. Kind of like how some people are cool with physical affection or hugs but some aren't, and with others, you gotta build up a bond for them to be cool with it. Some of the beasties aren't gonna want some random person touching them, just like a regular person wouldn't be cool with it.
A thing to remember though that changes the circumstance is, that this is a school full of a bunch of hormonal dudes and you happen to be a cute exotic little thing. So some are gonna be cooler with that curious touching just for that…though you should be wary of their intentions.
But that’s just an in general thing for the students, it's gonna be dif with the main guys since they know you and you went through all that stuff with them. You guys are homies.
Looking at what you wrote I say you're pretty spot on with how open those certain main guys would be to it. Adding on to the Lilia bit, not only in his regular form is he perfect for petting but in this au, he has two other forms he can switch into: A big scary sexy bat monster and…adorable little actual bat that you can keep in your pocket. Being in the latter form lets him conserve energy and magic so he likes to chill in it, another benefit is how freaking ADORABLE he is in it, and he uses it to his advantage with no shame.
Pet him, brush him, tell him how cute he is, and kiss his little face. The funest thing to do is feed him little cherry tomatoes and watch him go ham on them. Have you seen those cute vids of fruit bats eating stuff? Well, you should.
Ace and Deuce are clingy little things but in different ways. Deuce wants you to touch him so badly but he’s anxious about making you uncomfortable or you thinking he’s weird. Being a girl would add more to that. Also you call him a good boy while showing him affection he will die. P.S. When he goes home for the break and his mom smells you on him she is going to ask him so many questions and tease him. Please help him.
Ace is…regardless of what creature he is in the au he has asshole cat energy. Like, he's clingy and demands attention at the worst time but when you're in the mood he's like “Meh” but then gets pissy when you go to or smell like someone else. Passive aggressively scents all your stuff.
Floyd and Kalim have no shame in asking. Though with Kalim it's asking and although he’ll get sad when you're busy or not in the mood for it he’ll respect it. Floyd does not. He is like one of those big ass dogs that will straight up lay on you and won't move. Kalim keeps offering to hire you as his personal cuddle giver/groomer and his parents encourage it since having a human serve under you shows status, not that he cares about that.
My god, Cater would use you for so many videos.
So true for the “won't be vocal about it” thing. Cater is gonna “Haha…unless?” about it. Trey, Ruggie, and Jade would definitely manipulate situations so that you WILL pet them. Ruggie is gonna act like he's doing you a favor so you end up cuddling AND feeding him. Jack is still very much a tsundere about it, will probably take a while to get him to let you and he wants to do it in private.
Rook…another with no shame in accepting it. He’s so used to being the one doing the chasing. It's nice having someone so interested in him and giving him praise. He’s still gotta keep some of his mystery so he won't tell you things but he's gonna ask you all kinds of questions and want to take…terns with touching. He’s as interested in your unique body as you are with his. Take that however you want. 
Leona will straight up tell Ruggie to go get you and bring you to his room for Touching Time. With certain affection, he doesn't want others to see but with other kinds, he wants to show off. Especially if your mates.
Vil is pretty particular about what he allows you to do and how you touch him. Do not mess up his hair or feathers. 
Riddle and Idia. Even if he likes you it will take time for him to be cool it. Both want the affection given to be privet. Riddle actually puts together a Snuggle Scedual and gets pretty pissed if someone or someone interrupts or makes it run late. God forbid it gets canceled. Tbh for both of them it's kind of…cuddle therapy? For Riddle it helps with his anger and feelings of loneliness and the lack of affection he's had to deal with since…well forever.
For Idia…tbh I can't help but picture him as one of those anxiety-riddled dogs that's always shaking. You kind of end up his Emotional Support Human and if he absolutely has to leave his room he's keeping you close and hiding behind you, even if you're smol.
Is Mal awkward? Heck yes, but he is also touch-starved and greedy. You'll be lucky if his dragon instincts don't kick in have him keep you in his nest forever. Once he figures out “Oh…these touches are pretty nice.” He won't be shy about physical affection, even with the others around. Might get territorial and you should prob talk to him about it, so he doesn’t end up…going all dragon about it.
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