#authors please use diff names
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Authors who write fanfiction with fem!harry, I'm begging you, please for the love of God and everything holy above, do not name her Harriet, Harrieta, Harrianna or some shit like that. Like imagine a kid being named like that, like it's worse than Nymphadora, for crying out loud.
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priniya · 2 months ago
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 GORGEOUS! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ
pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
summary. the youngest leclerc was known to be an outgoing, extroverted menace, but suddenly when she meets the new mclaren driver, she does something she never does — gets embarrassing.
notes. a fair warning for the google translated french.im sorry if it sucks 😭😭 its my first time doing something like this and i really hope u like it :3 ALSO??? OSCAR WIN IN BAKU WAS SO BEAUTIFUL THE OVERTAKE?? THE DEFENDING?? a great day for piastrination!!!!! (can you tell i totally dig x leclerc!reader??) send requests for more smaus pls :)
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc and 127 621 others.
yourusername spreading the rbr agenda on the streets of kyoto, because your girl finally graduated journalism and engineering with honours!
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arthur_leclerc charles just saw the jacket and had an aneurysm LMAO
user1 someone check on leclerc pls
charles_leclerc cant believe my OWN baby sister wears that in public
yourusername ill take it off once ferrari releases their own energy drink 👍
alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous as usual ❤️
yourusername please dump my brother and date me instead
yourusername please i beg you
yourusername JUST ONE CHANCE 😭😭😣😣😣😭😭
user2 yn is one of us
maxverstappen1 looking good in blue! 💙
loved by author!
yourbff girl land that job or you gon go broke soon with that red bull addiction 👎👎👎
user3 atp yn is sponsoring the team 😭
yourbff you bet she is, girl
user4 double major in such different things pop off queen
user5 need to see her in paddock cos i know the girl is bout to argue with ferrari engineers
yourusername bin*tto left ferrari cos he knew i would drag him down 😁😁😁
user6 love how we had to go thru the 2023 drought without the baby leclerc and now shes baaaack
user7 fr i missed the times when ferrari wasnt the only thing making charles miserable
user7 congratulations on graduating queen!!!! cant wait for the new vid or to see u at one of the races 🥺
user8 im sorry im really new to f1 stuff who is she and why are the drivers here? 😭
user9 this is charlies sister yn!! but she has her youtube channel where she used to post a lot of diff stuff! shes been living in japan for the past four years of her undergrad degrees but due to the workload she had a hiatus for a year 💔💔 u should check out her channel its so cool
arthur_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 320 612 others.
arthur_leclerc good day in monaco today, changing professions to a photographer rn, what u think of that?
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user10 arthur you had one job to bring your sister to paddock…
user11 its just friday girl calm down
yourusername please restrain yourself from posting pictures of that ugly face you see in the mirror
yourusername …WHO IS IN THE SECOND SLIDE
yourusername ARTHUR ANSWER ME
yourusername my ovaries are quacking rn ARTHUR ANSWER ME
user12 not yn simping over oscar AND calling arthur ugly 😭😭😭
user13 shes so me tbh
charles_leclerc such a handsome man on the third slide 🔥🔥🔥
olliebearman why is yn tweaking like that 😭
yourusername cos he’s so pretty
oscarpiastri you were supposed to send me the picture not POST IT
user14 this is the guy yourusername 🔥‼️‼️
yourusername omg hes SO gorgeous
oscarpiastri thank you…?
arthur_leclerc yourusername please stop embarrassing the family name
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 101 892 others.
yourusername a quick pit stop in paris before the monaco course is broken!!!!!! (source: trust me bro 🙂‍↕️) drinking for my pookie dookiest brother to secure that pole and p1 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
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yourusername dont let the caption fool you, i am NOT stopping drinking vodka red bull to make sure rbr doesn’t lose their biggest sponsor (me)
maxverstappen1 ty for your service 🫡🫡
yourusername no prob pookie, lecfosi by association but a red bull girlie at heart 😌😌
yourusername big thanks to the autocorrect ❤️❤️❤️ youre the real one babe 🔥🔥🔥
user15 wait till she realises oscar is in the likes…
user16 ohh the girl is gonna be so messy 😭😭😭
user16 im all for it tho 🔥
lilymhe WHAT A GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL
alexandrasaintmleux face card is never denied!
user17 oscar in the likes 🥹🥹
yourusername WHO IS IN THE LIKES??????
yourusername NOO OH MY GOD HES HERE
yourusername HI YOURE SUPER CUTE oscarpiastri
user18 SHE TAGGED HIM LOL
user19 she really want that dick…
yourusername i just think hes cute that is NOT a crime
oscarpiastri i think you’re really cute too :)
yourusername HXJSKSJJDBDJSJS
yourusername sorry a red bull ran across my screen 😭
arthur_leclerc yourbff please tell her she’s not as slick as she thinks she is
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user20 what do you expect 😭😭 she probably partied all night before getting to monaco
user21 LMAOO RIGHT??? but if you watched her vids you know that the girl LOVES an opportunity for a party
user22 yn stronger than me because i’d kiss him on the spot
user23 alr weirdo… they JUST met
user24 he is probably weirded out like imagine meeting a girl who SIMPS over you in the insta comments… she needs to chill
user25 he won’t pick you 👎👎
user26 gtfo if he was weirded out he wouldnt be in the likes of her post or sayin he thinks shes cute lol
user27 the real gentleman out there 🥹🥹
user28 i need them together asap
user29 super delulu but i totally dig the golden retriever gf x polite black cat bf
user30 OMGGG I TOTALLY SEE THE VISION
user31 pls they just met and he was just being polite 👎 stop trying to get into their lives
yourusername
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 428 621 others.
yourusername HE DID IT!!!! I TOLD YALL THAT HE WOULD DO IT!!! MY BROTHER WINS IN MONACO. DONT HIT US UP FOR THE NEXT WEEK OR TWO!!! ITS CELEBRATION TIME!!!! aussi, charlie, il n'y a pas beaucoup de mots capables d'exprimer à quel point je suis fier de toi. vous l'avez fait et personne ne peut vous l'enlever.
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priniya translation! also, charlie — there isn’t an amount of words able to express how proud i am of you. you did it and no one can take it away from you.
user32 girlie might tell everyone she’s a red bull girl, but like the king sebastian once said, everyone is a ferrari fan even when they say they’re not or something like that 🔥🔥🔥
user33 CONGRATULATIONS CHARLES!!! FINALLY WON!!!
carlossainz55 ay cropped my ‘carlos p3’ out 😖😖
yourusername this is a celebration post for my pookiest brother you are IRRELEVANT rn
carlossainz55 that was harsh
yourusername win YOUR home race and i’ll post one 4 u 👍👍
charles_leclerc je t’aime mon lutin ❤️
yourusername je t’aime mon coco 🫶🫶🫶
oscarpiastri congratulations to the man of the day, such an honour to stand next to you on the podium xx
arthur_leclerc man you gotta stop commenting on her posts, she’s going insane rn
oscarpiastri i’m sorry…?
yourusername NO DONT BE SORRY DONT LISTEN TO HIM IM COMPLETELY SANE
yourusername oscarpiastri please keep interacting with me i’m gonna die if you listen to arthur
oscarpiastri i guess i gotta text you now and then to make sure you don’t die
yourusername please do that
user34 do they know we can see that??
user35 idc im eating this up
user36 oscaryn truthers rise and shine
user37 atp i cant tell if hes interested or if hes doing that for his own entertainment
user38 probably both
user39 i LOVE how a celebration post for charles turned into an opportunity to flirt with oscar 😭😭
user40 she is NOT stronger than me because if i had a chance i’d took it
user41 setting her priorities straight
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 792 721 others.
oscarpiastri a quick but very much needed pit stop before zandvoort
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user42 someone check on yn ASAP
user43 yn one of us once again because we couldn’t bag oscar either 😭
user44 can yall stop talking abt that girl FOR ONCE no one gaf
landonorris looking good mate
liked by the author!
yourusername pls tell me you found more of these beautiful seashells and brought some back for me
oscarpiastri we did actually! y immediately thought abt you and picked the pretty ones
yourusername GOD. i love her give her a big hug from me
oscarpiastri will do maam 🫡🫡
user45 so it’s not yn in the pics?? NOOOOO
user46 my life is ruined rn
user47 throwing oscaryn into a memory box because oscar and his gf looks really cute together
charles_leclerc hope you had a great summer mate
oscarpiastri the best 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
user48 what if they r just trolling us because this caption looks really similar to the one yn posted before monaco???
user49 OMGGG YOURE ONTO SOMETHING
user50 hopefully on the way to the psych ward because this is some delulu shit
user51 soft launch over the summer 🥹🥹 hes so cute
user52 whoever his girl is, i just hope they’re happy and yall should too!
yourusername also plsplspls can y send me the id to the top?? it looks so cute from the back
user53 girl he wont choose you stop trying so hard 😭😭
user54 they can be friends ? lol
user55 does someone knows who the girl is???? i need to know its not yn 😭😭
user56 georgerussell63 tell us what you know 🫵🫵
georgerussell63 🤐🤐🤐
alex_albon he’s actually crying and gritting his teeth because he’d LOVE to tell
gossipracegirl
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liked by georgerussell63, user57 and 87 621 others.
gossipracegirl a rumour has it that a driver for formula one with a number eighty one was seen getting cozy with one of his on-track rival’s little sister, while in a relationship. was it a drunken mistake or was it all planned?
tagged oscarpiastri yourusername
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user58 something is really wrong with leclercs one is a homie hopper and second is a homewrecker LOL
user59 shouldve happened in monaco so the people could get detained for invading their priacy like wtf WHO CARES
user60 all she do is bring bad pr to oscar BOO👎👎👎
user61 nooo oscar pookie you were supposed to be free from drama 😭😭
user62 gr63 in the likes LMAOO
user63 not yn being a homewrecker girl i liked u sm 😭😭
user64 yall acting like she’s in the wrong ? it gotta be consensual if they looked that chill n happy
user65 no wonder why yn has been streaming olivia rodrigo RELIGIOUSLY
user66 isnt that some type of incest atp?
user67 LMAOO imagine making out with your brother’s adopted son
yourusername
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liked by pascale_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 273 811 others.
yourusername YALL THOUGHT. it was me all along :P i was giggling n kicking my feet pretending i know osco’s gf while it was ME. summer break vlog with osco coming up sooner than u think so please stop calling me a homewrecker 😖😖😖
also, girls don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, being yourself is what gets you an amazing guy even if your brother thinks youre embarrassing <3
tagged oscarpiastri
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georgerussell63 ty for not SLACKING OFF anymore i barely could hold it inside 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
yourusername you told HALF the grid be for real brother you DID NOT hold it inside
fransisca.gomes no way oscar bagged you before i could 😭😭😭😭
yourusername i’m always gonna be yours kiks no one could take you away from me <3
francisca.gomes <3
pierregasly really thought getting u a bf would mean you leave MY girl alone
yourusername thinking is not your best thing, stick to racing
user68 shit user48 YOU WERE RIGHT
user48 NEVER DOUBT ME BITCHES
user69 this text?? oh he is down bad for you girl
user70 i need all of those bitches who called yn a homewrecker to APOLOGISE like rn
oscarpiastri thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this
user71 i know the girl is GIGGLING rn
yourusername thank YOU for making a part of YOUR life
user72 get yourself a man who THANKS you for being with you
user73 oscar piastri is the MAN
user74 osco 🥹🥹
user75 theyre the cutest your honour
arthur_leclerc cant believe you two are actually together
arthur_leclerc what is WRONG with you oscarpiastri
user76 SO OPPOSITES DOES ATTRACT
charles_leclerc i feel like i should tear those adoption papers apart no?
user77 nicole and pascale in the likes omg the moms r proud 🥹
hattiepiastri i miss youuuu come back to aus soon
yourusername I MISS YOU TOO 😭😭 i’ll be back soon!!
lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️
liked by the author!
lilymhe double date when?
yourusername mark your calendar, we’ll be there 🫶
user78 does it mean we lose our favorite rbr girlie? 😭😭😭😖😖
user79 mclaren YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM US 🫵
yourusername i am NOT wearing that ugly orange for a MAN (even if hes super gorgeous and sweet)
mclaren ☹️☹️☹️
landonorris it’s papaya
yourusername “it’s papaya” ☝️🤓
landonorris oscarpiastri please break up with her or you’re gonna be paying for my therapy
oscarpiastri send the bill mate, i’m in for the longest ride possible here
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strawhbrrries · 2 years ago
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Dirty, Greedy, Girl.
pairing: dbf!frank castle x afab!reader
summary: you need a place to stay and you find comfort in Frank’s bed (underneath him).
warnings: implied age gap, pet names, light tapping (he taps her once in the cheek before soothing it) mutual masturbation (diff rooms), blowjob, unprotected p in v, spit, cum eating, porn with plot basically, no use of y/n, not proofread
word count: 2560 words
author’s note: this was supposed to be inspired by granite by sleep token but i accidentally lost sight of that like halfway through, stream take me back to eden anyway! as always, i hope this lives up to standards and you enjoy it. mwah!
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Frank laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about you. The girl laying two rooms away. You’d consumed his thoughts, his being, and you didn’t even know it. You just needed a place to stay while yours was being renovated, he’d offered in an attempt to be nice and not leave you with a sleazebag you didn’t know. You’d called him early one morning, not giving him another option. 
“Frank..” Your voice was quiet and shaky.
“Yeah? What’s up?” His voice was rough, it was evident you had just woken him up. Your phone said it was three am.
“My apartment has a gas leak, I got evacuated..” 
“Call your dad.” He groaned in response, ready to roll over and go back to sleep, annoyance evident.
“I can’t, he’s at work or busy or something. Please, Frank..” You pleaded, standing in the cold outside your building in nothing but a ridiculously oversized shirt. It reached the top of your thighs, of course tonight of all nights you wouldn’t wear shorts to bed, the wind threatening to expose you to your neighbors every time it blew. 
Frank mumbled something about being on his way and left you standing there, praying to the heavens he’d show up soon. He did. His breath hitching slightly when he laid eyes on you. Messy hair from sleeping, shirt short enough if he leaned over a bit he was sure he’d see your panties, mismatched socks. Your face lit up when you saw him walking over, instantly turning red when he took off the leather jacket he was wearing and handed it to you.
“C’mon little lady, lets get going before any of these fucking weirdos oogle at you anymore.” He looked around at the men who supposedly live in the same building as you, the stares they gave you were borderline degrading. It annoyed him, as if he hadn’t done the same thing before walking over to you. He was different, he knew you. 
“Thanks, Frank.” You spoke quietly, walking in the direction of his truck, giving him a small smile as you put the jacket on. It was warm. Smelled like him. 
Frank had shown you his guest bedroom, showed you had to turn the shower on and where extra towels were, and left you to go back to bed. So he thought. The second his head hit the pillow he heard the sound of the shower turning on. His thoughts soon filled you as he laid there, listening to the water run through the pipes, staring at the ceiling. Thought of the water rolling down your soft supple skin. Thoughts of you lathering yourself with soap. Thoughts of how’d you smell like him when you got out. Thoughts of you.
You turned on the shower just as he showed you, temporarily forgetting as you were just staring at his hands the entire time he demonstrated how to do it. He’d lent you one of his shirts to change into, not that you had asked but you appreciated. It was longer than the one you had on. While you waited on the water to warm up you thought of Frank, of what he was doing. Did he go back to sleep? Was he thinking of you? You stepped out of your clothes, leaving them in a pile in front of the sink, and into the shower as steam filled the room. The warm water running over your body, chasing away the cold chills brought by the wind.
He was doing everything to try and get you off his mind, to get his cock to go down. He was harder than ever before. Red from the lack of attention, the tip leaking precum and creating a small circular stain on his boxers. For a brief moment he contemplated joining you in the shower, thought of all the ways you’d respond to him barging in. Ultimately, he decided against it. He wanted you to come to him, to cross the invisible line you both knew was there. He needed you to come to him first, confess that you needed him more than he needed you. That you’d thought of him in the same dirty ways he was thinking of you. 
You thought of Frank, thought of how kind he was to let you stay here and how you could ever repay him. Thought of his rugged features as your hand traveled south, a single finger sliding between your folds. Relieving some of the tension that had built up at the sound of his half-awake voice over the phone, only building up more when he’d shown up and ordered you around in the leather jacket before handing it to you. You let the finger slide inside you, the size nowhere near how big you imagined Frank’s to be, thrusting it slowly as you brought your other hand to rub rhythmic circles on your clit. Your eyes squeezed closed, imagining it was his hand instead of yours. Imagining that he was right behind you, asking you how exactly you needed it.
Frank had given in to his thoughts, pulled his cock out of his boxers and wrapped his fist around it. He ran his thumb over the slit, spreading his precum around the head. Groaning he leaned his head back further into the pillows, stroking slowly as your pretty face came to his mind. His mind thinking of painting your face with his cum. He imagined his big rough calloused hand was your smaller soft one. Thought about your lips and how pretty they were, how much prettier they’d be wrapped around his cock. Thought of how your tongue would feel as it licked a stripe up the shaft, giving kitten licks to his tip before taking his cock as deep as you could. He came over his hand, groaning lowly as it dripped down the side. 
You came quietly around your fingers, the sound of the showering muffling any noises that slipped past your lips. The dirtiness of masturbating in his bathroom making it all that much better. You finished up your shower, exiting the bathroom at the same time that Frak was making his way back to his room.
“The shower was really nice, thank you.” You whispered, unable to make eye contact with the man you just orgasmed to. Your cheeks flushing red at his lack of shirt, his chest defined, you wanted to rub your hands all over the skin, trace his scars.
“You don’t have to stare, you can touch.” He softly took one of your hands and placed it on your chest, waiting for a reaction. For anything. 
His skin was soft, the muscle underneath rock hard. Just like his cock was about to be if you continued to act so innocently about touching him.
“Say something, don’t act like you weren’t in there touching your pretty pussy to the thought of me. What’s got you so quiet now, huh?” His voice was low, and rough, and right in your ear. 
“How did you know…I was quiet..” You questioned, looking up at him, confusion written all over your pretty face.
“You wouldn’t look at me and you’re not as quiet as you think, pretty girl.” He titled your head up further with his pointer finger, running his thumb over your bottom lip before dipping it inside your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. A chuckle coming out at the spit that pooled around his thumb. “The water only muffles so much.”
“I want you.” You spoke confidently around his thumb, your words coming out slightly slurred.
“You want me? I’m not what you need.” He responded with another chuckle, removing his thumb from your mouth and rubbing the extra spit on your cheek. “Dirty dirty girl.”
“Wants and needs are different. I know what I want.” You moved closer to him, the hallway seeming much smaller than before. “I want to be beneath you. Treat me like a dirty girl.”
“Did you call me to come get you just so you could get in my bed? Get underneath me? Huh?” He closed any remaining distance between the two of you, gripping your cheeks with one hand and squishing them just slightly. “If you needed to be treated dirty, you coulda said that over the phone, baby doll.” 
You whimpered at his words, rubbing your thighs together as the warmth flooded your core. 
“Knees.” 
You fell to your knees, just as he ordered. He looked down at you, giving a light tap to your cheek before soothing it with his hand, the corners of his mouth turning into some sort of smile. His thumb found its way back into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and releasing the pressure multiple times. He was just playing with your tongue as he gathered enough spit in his mouth to spit into yours, he tapped your cheek twice before letting the spit fall. It landed mostly in your mouth, impressive given the distance between his mouth and yours.
“You wanna suck my cock, dirty girl?” He asked, not satisfied with your head shaking yes as an answer. “Beg for it, use your words.” 
“Please, Frank. Wanna suck your cock, want it in my mouth.” You begged, seemingly enough to satisfy him.
He, once again, pulled his cock out of his boxers and tapped it against your cheek. Letting the precum that had built up again slide across your cheek, in some dirty claim on you. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, so large and ready to be sucked. 
“Open.”
And you did just that. You opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, it was a lewd sight and Frank wished he could take a picture of you like this. Mouth open, kneeling on the ground, begging for his cock. He tapped it against your tongue a few times, rubbing it in the spit you just seemed to be collecting in there. 
“Such a dirty girl, kneelin’ on my floor beggin’ for my cock.” He teased, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth and pulling it back out. “Gonna let me use you?”
You shook your head yes as best as you could. The pain in your knees from the hardwood already becoming a problem, you didn’t mind as long as he kept putting his cock in your mouth and talking to you like that.
“Wish you could see how pretty you looked with my cock in your mouth.” He commented, sliding his cock as far into your throat as he could without pushing on your head.
He did this a few times, pushed in and pulled back out, only going far enough for you to gag once or twice. Letting out a groan from the back of his throat every time he did. He watched the drool sliding out of your mouth as he fucked it, chuckling at how little he had used your mouth but how much you were enjoying it.
“Gonna fuck your mouth now, okay? Tap me twice if it’s too much.” He warned, making sure you acknowledged his words before putting his entire cock into your mouth.
He stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying the warmth and the tightness of it all, it was also giving you a chance to breathe and prepare yourself. Frank slowly started to thrust in and out of you mouth, putting one of his hands on the back of your head and bobbing it on his cock. He wrapped your hair in a makeshift ponytail around his hand, giving him better leverage to use you. He gave a few hard thrusts and used you just like he said, fast and rough. Dirty, just how you wanted it. More of your drool escaping your mouth, a puddle was probably slowly forming on the floor. 
“So dirty, lettin’ an old man like me fuck your mouth.” You both moaned at his words, your moan vibrating around him. “Oh fuck.”
And with that he came down your throat, stabilizing himself against the wall as he came, with his head thrown back. He smiled down at you as he came to, tucking himself back in his boxers and helping you up off the floor. Without exchanging any words he led you into his room, laying you down on his bed and lifting up the shirt he gave you with one finger, groaning softly at your lack of underwear. 
He swiped a finger between your folds, just as you had done to yourself earlier, swirling it around your entrance before bringing his finger to his mouth and licking it clean. He lifted the shirt enough to see your boobs, bringing one to his mouth and swirling his tongue around your nipple. He nipped at it slightly, smiling when you whined in response.
“Frank please, need you inside of me.” You whined again, pouting up at him in a desperate plea to get him to hurry up and stop teasing you.
He nodded his head in acknowledgement, removed his boxers and threw them somewhere else. He dragged the tip up your folds, gathering the wetness before slowly pushing inside of you. A strangled moan left your throat as he did so, the stretch of his cock hurting so good. He was so big, you weren’t sure how it all fit in your mouth and you definitely didn’t know how it was all fitting up inside you. With one hard thrust he bottomed out, giving you just a few seconds to adjust before he started fucking you.
His thrusts were hard and deep, slow when he pulled out so he could admire the mess you were making on his cock. The sounds you were making on spurring him on, he was enjoying the torture he was putting you through. That asshole. 
“Faster, please..” 
“Need it faster? Is this not enough for your greedy cunt? Greedy girl.” He punctuated his sentence with an exceptionally hard thrust, you whimpered in response.
You wrapped a hand around his bicep, whimpering once again at how big it is, holding onto him as he sped up his thrusts. Your orgasm was building slowly, between his thrusts and the grunts he was letting go in your ear you were a goner. He kept the pace that seemed to satisfy you, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers, smiling as he did so. The warmth in your belly was building much more rapidly, Frank could sense it too. Your eyes had glossed over, mouth hung open and the sounds coming out much more airy than before. 
“C’mon greedy girl, let it go. Let me see you fall apart.” He whispered into your ear, bringing the fingers that were previously on your nipple to your clit and rubbing circles in perfect time with his thrusts.
It was all too much, his fingers, his words, his smell. You fell apart on his cock, writhing underneath him like you begged to do earlier. He fucked you all the way through your orgasm, slowing down slightly as he approached his. With one last low groan in your ear he pulled out and came on your stomach, swirling it around a bit with one finger before bringing it to your mouth and watching you lick it clean.
“God, you’re gonna make me hard again.”
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abeautylives · 8 months ago
Text
Times I Remember Well
(and Some That I Don’t)
Part 1
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author’s note: I’m really excited to have something to share with you guys. It’s written from a diff POV than I usually do, but my main character girly pop has a lot of personality 😘 Big big big thank you to bff @samkiszkasfacialhair for all the help, the ideas, and the motivation 🤍
pairing: female!OCxkiszkas (just read it, you’ll figure it out)
time frame: 2010-2014
word count: 5.7k this part
warnings: language, illicit substance use, rampant teenage emotions and delulu, kissing, josh 🥺
I don’t actually remember the day I met Sam Kiszka.
Not the date, or even the day of the week. I do know what year it was, because it was the year my mom moved us to this quaint (read: weird) little town. Charming, but weird. And boring.
Boring, until I met Sam.
Eleven-year-old Sam was a menace, but twelve-year-old me was bored. So obviously, we became the best of friends. He taught me how to light a firecracker, I had an endless supply of Barbies to blow up. He showed me how to slip out of my bedroom window without making a sound, I told him how to impress girls without grossing them out. In our early teenage years, he introduced me to drugs and I taught him how to unclasp a bra. Chill out, it was weed, and I wasn’t even wearing the bra.
My mom just loved that I’d made such a great friend.
The first time I was allowed to play at his house I met his sister, who was closer to my age, but it was too late. Sam and I were already attached at the hip, though mine sat an inch or two higher than his for a couple of years, until a growth spurt and puberty eventually left him with the height advantage.
That was when he stopped calling me by my name, and started calling me Tiny. Like I said, a menace.
“You’re the coolest girl I know, even if you’re vertically challenged.”
Please note: the first time he said this to me, he had finally just surpassed me in height by half an inch.
Then of course, there were the twins. You’d think the eldest siblings would not have become a big part of my life, but they were just always around, and actually liked hanging out with their baby brother. Close knit family and all that. It’s weird, right? At the wise and worldly age of twelve, the two fourteen-year-olds terrified me. Josh and Jake were both scary in their own way to a pubescent girl on the cusp of teenager-dom. Jake was pretty quiet, but his ego was not. He was hot, okay? In like, a Justin Bieber-y way but also kind of a jock-y way, but a jock with a guitar. Whatever, I’m only human.
Josh was… well, Josh was Josh. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and not necessarily in a good way. He was loud, like, all the time. He never seemed to stop talking and ended most of his sentences at an eardrum-piercing decibel level. Fortunately, or not, he didn’t get hot until I was old enough to obsess over it.
I’m sure I didn’t speak a coherent word to either of them the entire first year of my friendship with Sam.
I have a million memories of the time I spent with Sam and his family, but I have no recollection of the day I fell in love with Josh Kiszka.
But once I did, it was a deep, obsessive kind of love that only a teenager can achieve. One day he was my best friend’s eccentric older brother and the next…
Well, the next he was a rockstar.
I mentioned the whole jock with a guitar thing that Jake had going on, and that really hadn’t changed, but somewhere along the way Josh had transformed from a loud, annoying theater kid to a genuine, full blown vocalist. I mean, for a while he was both.
When they first started playing together, I only gave a shit because they’d roped Sam into it too and it took up way too much of his time. I’d watch them play, and they weren’t… bad? They weren’t good either. My time could have been better spent watching R rated movies (scandalous) or, I don’t know, doing my homework. But nope! We were in a band now.
They practiced, a lot. It felt like all they did was practice, for at least a couple years. And I just watched dutifully, every weekend of every month of every year. They did get better.
But here’s the thing. I was there for all of it. I was there the day Jake ran into the living room and snatched Sam up by the back of his shirt. Come on Sammy boy, we need you on bass. I was there the day their buddy Kyle sat down at the drum kit and completed the ensemble. (I was also there the day he got replaced.) And of course, I was there the day Josh pushed his voice past the instruments and the amps, and went from a weak imitation of a rock singer to something else all together. Something totally and completely him.
That’s not the day I fell in love with him (I would’ve remembered), but it was the first time he had ever… impressed me. And not that I cared, but Jake was impressed too. I saw it on his face.
It was cute. In like, a sweet, brotherly way.
Okay, anyway! The combination of Jake’s skill and Josh’s raw talent got them noticed. (Sammy’s talent would develop over time, I didn’t forget about him. Sam, you’re the most talented one in the band.) And then they were playing actual gigs. I wasn’t allowed to go to most of those early ones, because for some reason these dive bars were permitting these pint sized, teenage Zeppelin wannabes to perform at them. Old people like our parents loved that shit. The locals went crazy for it.
They played Fischer Hall a couple times, right there in town, but around their third or fourth gig there, Josh had unbuttoned the flowy, floral, women’s blouse he was wearing and took to the stage with it hanging open, beaded necklaces draped down his bare chest and curly hair wild.
Why was he sort of… ripped? How had I never noticed? Were his pants always so tight? And low cut? I was sweating. I didn’t even know he was literally cosplaying Robert Plant.
Did I fall in love with him that night? Of course not, I already told you I don’t remember the day that happened.
The Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I left my house around 8:30 to head to Sam’s. To my mom, this was an average Saturday night - I spent nearly all of them at Sam’s house, where his parents were always home. Ya know, or so mine thought. Whether the Kiszkas were actually home or not, we hung out in the garage.
That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was a really cool garage. With furniture and everything. And their instruments, a lot of them. I don’t know how every one of these guys knew how to play every instrument packed into that room, but they did. And by the time I was sixteen, they were really almost good at it.
(Jake was good. Very good… I told you he was hot.)
This particular Saturday though, this was going to be the Saturday that changed my life. And I wanted to dress the part.
In hindsight, I wore something I’d probably worn a hundred times. Then why had it taken me so long to get ready? I changed my jeans twice, my shirt at least ten times, added a sweater, threw it back on my bed, added a flannel, tossed that to the floor. Picked it back up and shoved my arms in, made sure it hung off my shoulder just so. Shoulders are sexy, right? Do guys like shoulders? Oh shit, what do guys even like?
Anyway, I left the house looking exactly as I always did.
I rode my bike slowly that night, already hyper aware of the sweat under my arms.
So I slowed my pedaling even further. When the house came into view, I hopped off the bike and walked it up the drive before tossing it to the grass outside the garage.
Okay, knock twice and just go in.
That’s what everyone always did, what I always did. Just knock twice then lift the door. Everyone was always welcome, come on in!
So go in, idiot.
Look, I did it eventually. Just like always, knock knock, lift the door enough to slip underneath, let it close behind me. Except when it rolled back to the ground, I lost my nerve and stood frozen there for a few seconds too long.
Sam called me out, because he’s a menace.
“The hell are you doing, Tiny? We started without you.”
I moved farther into the space, eyes bouncing between my options through the soft haze of pungent smoke that already hung over the room. There was my usual spot - on the floor, next to the spot where Sam sat cross-legged, his long frame folded and bent, his sharp elbows resting on his knees as he waited for the joint to make its way back to him.
Not tonight, I’m on a mission.
Jake sat to his left, in a well-worn, floral print wingback chair. It was comfortable enough for one person, decades of weight softening the strength of the cushion’s springs before it ever came to live in this particular garage. Jake’s body was slung over it, legs thrown haphazardly over an arm while his own were wrapped around an acoustic guitar. Typical. He tipped his chin at me from under the brim of a bucket hat, then nodded towards the floor beside him. Holy shit, does he want me to sit by him?! I think my fingers lifted in a barely-there wave but I’m not really sure they were functioning correctly.
Okay focus, he did not. Does not. Not in this lifetime.
Still without his next hit, Sam glanced up at me over his shoulder and patted the threadbare throw rug next to him. “Sit down weirdo, you’re making me paranoid.”
Nerves that I’d never, never, felt before in this room fluttered through my stomach, I let my gaze meet Sam’s before continuing the search for a place to plant myself.
There was really only one option left - the couch - and both ends were already occupied. Our friend Danny (Kyle’s replacement, sorry Kyle) was in the process of melting into the corner closest to Jake, his eyes glassy and already tinged pink when he looked up at me. Only his eyebrows lifted in greeting before he mirrored Sam’s offer to sit next to him, tapping the cushion beside him.
This is fine, totally normal! Danny was Sam’s other half. Well, his other male half. I guess we were in thirds. A trio.
I accepted the offering, stepping around the coffee table, scarred with years worth of “art” - drawings and carvings, a few discreet dirty words etched into the surface in between - to drop to the middle of the couch. One of Sam’s brows tipped up when I met his eyes again, his expression asking, “Dude, what gives?”
“Hey, you’re here!” He noticed me, finally. Silvery smoke crept from between his lips as he grinned, and I watched transfixed when they pursed together and he blew a cloud toward the ceiling. My stare was broken when he leaned across the table and passed the joint to an impatient Sam, but to the delight of the butterflies going nuts in the pit of my stomach, he leaned back into the cushions and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind me. EEEEP!
“Hey-“ It was a humiliating and unsexy croak, and I quickly cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Josh. Hi.”
His long hair was pulled back, his entire face available for my viewing pleasure. Things were going perfectly.
I joined the rotation, the weed easing the flutters caused by sitting so close to Josh, but amplifying the feeling that the other three were watching and wondering why I was acting so strange.
They were not. They were high.
Aside from the stray curious eyebrow from my BFF across the table, they actually acted like nothing was abnormal about my seating choice, even when I started to scooch imperceptibly to my left every time I adjusted the way I was sitting.
Pulled my legs up under me? Scooch.
Dropped them down so my sneakers met the cement? Scooch.
Crossed my left ankle over my right knee? Scooch.
It was totally subtle.
“I’m gonna grab a pop, you guys want anything?” Sam startled me out of a pleasant reverie as he jumped up from the floor, but my freaking knee was touching Josh’s knee! No I don’t want anything, I have everything I need right here!
It turned out Sam was a huge knee blocker. He gripped me by an elbow and peeled me from the couch as the others murmured at our retreating backs about needing Doritos. He pushed me out the side door and towards the house and had me in the kitchen before I could even tell him he was ruining everything!
Even through bleary, hooded eyes, his death glare was brutal.
“Saaammmmm, what are you doing?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, T?”
More glaring. He broke the glare-off first, jerking his head to the side to flick his hair out of his eyes and turning to open the refrigerator, but once his face was inside it, he called me out again.
“Why are you being so weird with Josh?”
I love him, I need him!
“Whaaa.. I don’t know what you mean. You’re just super high.” Yeah, I really thought that would work. Sue me!
Straightening to his full height (seriously, like two inches taller than me… maybe three), he spun to face me again. He actually looked down his nose at me.
“Do you like, like him? What the fuck, Tiny?” He whispered that last part, as if his parents were lurking around the corner waiting to bust him for cussing.
“Look, you wouldn’t understand Sam. I’m much older than y-“
“You’re not even an entire year older than me.”
“Eleven months is basically an entire ye-“
“That’s not the point!” That part was like whisper yelling. I swear it looked like he was yelling, but it sounded like he was whispering.
“Okay!” Yeah, I whisper yelled back. “Sammy, I like him… I’m sorry! I don’t even know when it happened but I woke up one day and I realized that he’s perfect! He’s funny and nice and he’s so… so… cute! Okay? He’s so cute I wanna die and I love him!”
Sam’s eyes were wide, as wide as they could be under the circumstances, and he stared at me like I’d grown another head. With a horn coming out of it.
“You love him. You realize how dumb you sound right now?”
Dumb? No no, this was serious. I pleaded with my best friend for forgiveness. And his help. “Sam… please. Don’t be mad at me, I- I don’t know, I can’t help it! That’s just how I feel, and I want him to like me back!” That’s when it hit me, I needed a wingman for this plan.
“Can you help me get him to like me back?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip stuck out and everything. As if that had ever worked in the four years we’d known each other so far.
“Fuck no.” His eyes moved side to side, looking for sneaky parents again I guessed. “Definitely not. Why do you have to like my brother, dude? That’s sick, it’s like incest or something!” He stomped his feet a little, and I couldn't help but think it made him look like a child. He was a child! This was serious, grown-up shit and I didn’t have time to play games.
“Ugh, if you’re not gonna help me then at least get out of my way.” I pushed past him and headed back out of the house and into the garage. Not much had changed when I got there, but Danny must have left while Sam and I were gone. The entire couch was empty aside from Josh, still sitting cross-legged in one corner. Damn it!
I flopped into the spot that Danny had vacated, just as Sam hustled back in through the side door, arms full of sodas and bags of chips. My cheeks were warm when I looked up at him, and then they burst into flames.
“Scoot over T, I like the corner spot.”
He’s helping me! Oh shit, he’s helping me. Move your ass!!
Fumbling for a grip on reality, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam’s. He lifted his brows and tilted his head in Josh’s direction. I suddenly remembered why I wasted all my days with this kid - he’s my ride or die. And now I owed him, big.
As soon as I stood to shift to the center of the couch, Sam’s elbow snuck out and made contact with my shoulder. My feet tangled with each other and, balance lost, I tumbled. Right into the arms of my beloved.
Okay okay, that’s a reach. But I did land on him. Sam had nudged me just hard enough to send me toward the opposite end of the couch and I landed ass-first on Josh’s leg, still folded and crossed under the other.
Through the mortification, I heard Sam’s distinct snickering as he placed himself gently on the other cushion. Then, through the popping of soda tabs and crinkling of chip bags, I heard the sweetest, most beautiful sound ever.
“If you wanted to sit next to me so bad, you could’ve just done it, T.”
I quite literally had to extract myself from his lap, but Josh just giggled as I clumsily moved off of him. To my extreme delight and disbelief, I didn’t make it too far. He slung an arm over my shoulders and kept me at his side. We are sharing a cushion. ALERT ALERT - OUR THIGHS ARE TOUCHING.
His hand wrapped around the ball of my shoulder and squeezed. Not once, but twice. I felt like I was gonna puke, but I risked turning my head and meeting his eyes. And he. Fucking. Smiled.
“You good, Tiny?” I should’ve laughed. We were the same exact height, I could be calling him tiny. But this wasn’t funny, because he was still smiling at me and he’d lowered his voice to speak directly to me and I felt it all the way to my toes. Somehow I managed to smile back.
“I’m good.” I was soooooo good. Even when Sam shoved a bag of Doritos at me, I was good. Because Josh reached into it and pulled a few out for himself. He reached into my lap! For chips!
Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.
Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.
Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.
“Whatever. Night, guys.”
Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!
The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam kept hitting the joint long after Josh and I had turned it down, and by the time he’d deposited the roach in the ashtray he could barely keep his eyes open. I watched his head fall back into the cushion and pounced on my opportunity.
Leaning away from Josh’s loving embrace (shut up, I was in heaven okay?), I slapped Sam’s chest with the back of my hand.
“Sammy… Sam!” He snorted as his head whipped up, swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at me. I was still leaning toward him, my back to Josh, and I spoke to him telepathically. Or with my eyebrows.
Get out of here right now or so help me God.
He answered verbally, like he couldn't even read my mind. “Huh?”
I withheld growling at him like an animal. “Why don’t you go to bed, man? You’re toast.” Go. NOW.
His eyes tried to focus on me, they really did, before he shook his head and tried again. “Shit. Yeah, okay. Are you… do you wanna stay on the couch tonight?”
Yes. This couch. Allll night long.
“Yeah yeah, I will, but I’m not tired yet. I’m just gonna, um, chill here for a little bit longer?” At that, I turned my head and risked a glance at Josh. Thank God I did, because he was already looking at me, and he grinned. EEEEEEEP!
“I’m not tired yet either, we can listen to some music.” I doubted I could hear music at that point, not over the blood rushing in my ears. But then, oh then, he looked up at Sam and said, “I’ll make sure she makes it to bed, I mean, the couch. Downstairs, I’ll make sure she makes it downstairs.”
“Fine, whatever.” See? He’s my ride or die. “See you in the morning, T.” And then he was gone.
We were alone.
HELLO? WE. WERE. ALONE.
Sure, I’d been alone with Josh before. I’d been hanging around his house nearly every day for four years, we’d definitely been left in a room together at some point. But not while his arm was draped loosely over my shoulders, not while our legs were touching, not while my heart was about to beat out of my chest.
But now that we were alone, I had no effing clue what to do. Then Josh stood up. My heart dropped into my stomach, but he walked over to the stacked milk crates that housed a small part of their family’s record collection and crouched to skim through them. He found something he liked and set it on the turntable, the needle bringing the crackling beginnings of a song to life.
When he turned back to face me, I thought for sure he’d sit in that ugly wingback chair. Or at the other end of the couch. Instead, he circled the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of me than he had been all night. And now his other thigh was touching mine!
I’m pretty sure my throat closed up because I had to clear it rather unattractively to speak. “What, uhh, ha, um, who is this?”
Sexy, right?
Didn’t matter, his smile took shape right in front of my eyes and all I could see was the little barely-there gap between his front teeth. I wanted to know what it felt like on my tongue. Would I be able to tell? If I kissed him right now, would I be able to feel that little discrepancy in the perfection of his teeth? I lifted my eyes to meet his and realized he’d spoken, and I’d missed it.
“Sorry, uhh… what?”
His head tilted and his eyes searched my face for… something. “Wilson Pickett. Sammy hasn’t played this for you?”
Sammy? Who is Sammy? Ohhh right, best friend.
“Um, no, I don’t think so. But maybe? There’s always music on, he’s probably played this.”
He just nodded, at first in response to my rambling and then in time with the song. When it ended, he just… looked at me, for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. I was once again hyper aware of my underarms. Sweating. So I slipped the flannel off of my shoulders, keeping my forearms in the sleeves but giving me some airflow to the pits. Josh’s eyes dropped from mine and landed on the now exposed skin. Yes! Guys like shoulders!
The realization slapped me in the face, so I grabbed it and ran. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and tossed the flannel past Josh and onto the chair, thanking God that I’d worn a tank top. He gulped. Like a full-blown gulp.
Omg I’m making him nervous!!
Confidence boosted, I shifted even closer to him, until our bodies were tucked tight against each other. I’d never been this close to him, aside from that one time we’d been crammed in the back seat of his mom’s car with Sam and Jake, their sister sitting pretty in the front seat. But then I had been a scrawny kid, only thirteen (and a half) and he had been a really weird fifteen year old, not yet having grown into his features. I hadn’t wanted any part of his stinky, sweaty, farty body near me and I’d squeezed myself so close to Sam I was practically in his lap.
But on this night? This Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I was no longer a kid. And he was no longer weird. He was beautiful, and my face was really close to his face. I could feel it when he whispered, his breath actually touched my lips.
“Wha- what are you doing, T?”
He was looking at my lips, waiting for my answer. I licked them because I was freaking parched, but he watched. And I watched him gulp, again! My tongue slipped out and wet my bottom lip a second time.
“Josh?” Whispering is sexy, it’s seductive. I was sure of it. He did it back, just my name - my actual name - lilting at the end in question.
“Do you.. wanna… kiss me?” I leaned over him, placed my left hand on his chest and felt his collar bone under my fingertips through his t-shirt. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.
I saw the panic widen his eyes, then they darted around me, looking at anything but me. It was really so cute how nervous he was. He was eighteen, for Christ sake! And I was making him nervous!
“Kiss me, Josh.” His eyes snapped back to mine, slipped down to my mouth again and then back.
And then. He. Freaking. KISSED. ME.
In a split second that felt like hours, I watched his eyes close and perfect lips pucker. My eyes stayed open at first, I didn’t want to miss this.
Leaning further into him, I settled my lips against his and slid the hand on his chest up the side of his neck (his pulse was out of control, by the way), and then cradled his jaw. My fingertips were in his hair right behind his ear. I pulled his face closer and ramped up the pressure of our lips pushed together.
He put his hands on me. I swear to God, he really did! One reached for my hip and the other came up to rest against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my body took over. Not a coherent thought left in my pretty little head. Especially when our mouths separated, and then he pushed them back together.
With a mind of its own, my other hand came up and gripped his shoulder. Then my leg swung over his lap and I. Was. Straddling. Him.
It wasn’t my fault. My brain had gone haywire, my body moving on instinct. I’d quite literally never done this before. I’d kissed plenty, I even kissed Sam once (barf), but this felt different. This felt mature. Probably a little more mature than I was ready for but like I said, it was not my fault.
A lot of blame fell on Josh, a whole mountain of it, when the hand on my cheek dropped to my other hip and gripped hard, pulled me flush against him. And his lips coerced my mouth open. And the tip of his tongue swept out and touched mine.
Oh, I was in way over my head. But this was Josh, the boy I loved, and he was loving me back!
A sound I’d never made before crept up my throat. Instant embarrassment heated my already toasty cheeks and climbed up my neck, but then. Ohh then. The same freaking sound came from somewhere below me. Josh groaned. Because of me.
My animal brain completely took over. My tongue was already sliding against his, and my hips decided to follow suit. With zero finesse, they rocked into his. Just once.
He broke the kiss and dropped his head back to the cushion.
No no noooooo, you like this! You love it!
I could feel the proof that he loved it. I was sitting on it. I could see it, his chest heaving.
So I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his throat.
“Stop, T.” His hands fell limp and landed on my thighs. My brain scrambled to catch up. Stop? Go! His fingers spread across the denim on my legs. Go go go!
But then he pushed. I leaned back to see his face, find an explanation, but his eyes were still closed as he pushed me off of his lap. Helped me swing my leg back over. Kept his hands on my thighs until they were planted back on the couch and closed. Firmly. Then they left me, and I felt their absence like a knife to the heart.
“I… wow, okay.” It’s the best I could manage to formulate, but my brain was running in overdrive.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.” He rubbed his palms, the ones that were just holding me, over his knees then leaned forward and dropped his forehead into them.
Okay, maybe he just thinks we were moving too fast!
“Josh, it’s okay. I want this! We can just kiss, I’ll stay over here and you stay there and-“
It was so quiet, but it stopped my words on my tongue and slammed my lips shut.
“I can’t.”
Okay. Okay. Okay.
It’s because Sam’s my best friend.
It’s because I’m too young.
He thinks I’m still a kid.
Like his kid sister.
Fuck!
Anger rolled through me. “Why? Is it Sam?”
He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to me. Looked at me, finally.
“No, I-“
“Am I too young for you? You’re not that much older, Josh and we’ve known eachother forever, it’s not that big of a de-“
“It’s not that, Tiny.” His eyes closed again.
“Don’t call me that!” He’d offended me, I was o-ffen-ded. “I’m not a little fucking kid!” Okay, I was pissed! I was a grown ass woman!
(I wasn’t.)
Both of his hands reached forward and he pulled mine towards him. Held them there. Opened his eyes. Was he gonna cry? Why are his eyes wet?! Shit, am I crying?
“It’s not you, T. It’s me.” Oh please. “I- well, I um, I like someone else.”
Back to angry! “What?! Then why the hell were you kissing me?!” What a scoundrel, what a snake, what an asshole!
“It’s not like that-“
“What the fuck is it like?!” I didn’t normally curse much at that age, but when I tell you I was mad? Hurt? Embarrassed? I couldn’t stop it from happening.
Shit, his eyes were definitely wet.
“It’s a guy.”
He whispered it, and it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t seductive. It was sad. Scared. Defeated. I snatched my hands out of his.
There was a long silence. Uncomfortable. He stared at his empty hands and we processed.
“What did you say?” His posture shrank, like he was trying to disappear. “Josh, it’s okay. Talk to me.” It was my turn to take his hands. I held them in mine and squeezed once.
“I’m so sorry, I- I just don’t like you. Like that.” His eyes found their way back to my face, “I really like him.” They went wide and I’m pretty sure mine did too. He seemed shocked that he’d said it out loud, right before panic spread across his features again.
“Please don’t say anything, T. I haven’t- no one knows that. No one. Please.”
“No, I would never Josh, I swear. I just… why were you, ya know, kissing me?” Touching me, pulling me in. He pulled his hands away from me this time.
“I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted them to think I was normal.”
I couldn’t help it. I threw my arms around him and held on tight.
“You are.” Normal and beautiful and perfect. And not mine. A heavy sigh slipped from between my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
He stayed silent, so I did too. I kept my arms around him for a few minutes before finally letting them slip free, rubbing a palm between his shoulder blades.
“I guess I should go… Are you okay?” Look, I was not okay, but it didn’t seem like that was important anymore.
“Aren’t you gonna stay downstairs tonight?”
Definitely not. “No, I think I should go home…” Probably won’t show my face over here for a goooood long time.
“Let me walk with you.”
I did. He walked on the other side of my bike while I walked it by the handlebars. When we reached my driveway, I left the bike propped against the side of the garage and turned to him. And just like in my dreams, he moved close and pecked a kiss into my cheek. Then he pulled me into his arms.
“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, ya know?” His voice was soft and low, his breath tickling my ear. It should’ve been a literal dream come true.
A half step back and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms. “It’s really fine. I’m sorry for…” Humiliating us both? “Everything.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I mean it,” he emphasized when I shook my head. “Just… please don’t say anything. Even to Sam. Especially to Sam. I’m gonna tell them all when I’m ready, I think.”
Huge, massive sigh. “I won’t. I promise.”
And I never did. Not really.
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cosmicoceans-fr · 2 years ago
Text
Personal Lore Stuff
General Edition
First a disclaimer: A lot of my lore is just gonna be tweaking things about Flight Rising/Sornieth that I just don't like/vibe with, so if that'll bother you I advise not reading further.
Disclaimer part two: Some of the stuff mentioned here may already be canonical and I either A. haven't read about it yet (in which case feel free to shoot me the relevant readings ^^), B. I'm incorporating and expanding on it, or C. Incorporating and altering it.
Punctuation usage note:
Parenthesis () are used to signify a related but seperate thought to what they're grouped with.
Brackets [] are used as a form of authors note.
Now to begin: This is largely just going to be one chaotic info dump of all the stuff living in my head rn so I can come back and organise/edit it later but also so I can link it in my pinned cause I use verbiage that relates to my personal lore and figured this'd help anyone who might be confused.
Auction House is now:
Travel Listings
Name is a work in progress but the basic idea isn't.
The current system of dragons being put up for auction didn't really sit well with me [I understand it's function as the FR game itself goes don't at me please] so after some mulling it over I settled on Travel Listings!
The general idea is that dragons who are looking to relocate either to a new Clan within their own flight (flight AH) or just anywhere on Sorienth (Site-wide AH) can post the travel costs for them to do so with their stuff. When a Clan who's willing to sponsor the fees for the dragon posts them the dragon is then able to move in with the Clan!
This helps maintain the autonomy that dragons have as established in canon lore as well as giving the world a fun "new" mechanic [in my opinion at least]. In addition is use this as a basis for my pricings. If I consider the cost listed alongside each dragon as travel costs it let's me make some base costs guides based on things like breed, gene rarity, eye rarity, and in the event of a one-on-one arranged travel fees the cost for "luggage" (ie familiars, outfits, etc. which, btw, if you arrange for a dragons travel with me directly they'll almost always come with luggage).
The above is why I might seem to price travel fees a little weirdly and while I'm ok with the prices being a little funky I do want to be fair so if I unintentionally price something outrageously please let me know! ^^
Familiars
Familiars being listed as and treated as items within the game canon bugs me a bit as many of if not most/all of the familiars are canonically described as having sentience (sentience in this case meaning being living) them being treated as items isn't great for me.
Similar to Travel Listings I'll price/talk ahout/treat familiars with the same/similar verbiage. Familiars get travel fees as well albeit less involved than dragons might.
Familiars will also be treated as thinking beings who've choosen to come stay with our Clan for xyz reasons within lore contexts.
This leads me into my next bit:
The Coliseum
I'm not 100% posi on the canon lore surrounding Coli stuffs but the stuff I've developed whilest grinding in it as follows:
The Coliseum was started by [unestablished] as a way for dragons and beast clans to, hopefully, find some common ground.
Each coli arena/area is a neutral sparing ring/arena set up in each of the diff regions.
All who come to them agree to leave past issues/agressions/conceptions at home and have acknowledged that they are there to learn from eachother, as well as to have a good time. Each person who enters the Coli area agrees to do their part to ensure a friendly and (relatively) peaceful enviroment for all participants.
To be chosen to represent your Clan in the coli is considered a high honour by most involved and the importance of its neutrality is widely established/acknowledged. In the spirit of this many participants, dragon and beastclan alike, will bring gifts/offerings for their opponents [the coli drops]. Some participants might even find that they vibe/work really well with a clan/it's members and as such will choose to return with those dragons to their clans [familiar drops].
Due to the nature of the Coli its generally frowned upon for participants fo significantly higher levels to enter a match against participants of much lower levels [lack of exp gain], the exception to this are for teams who have come specifically to share their knowledge with those at lower levels [this parts honestly just so I can grind lower levels with my lvl 25s and not feel so bad about it 🤣].
Aaaaand that's about all I've got at the moment, there's other stuff that's dragon/breed line specific that'll be its own post(?).
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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago
Text
Obedient (Rewritten)
Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader
***18+ Fic***
You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.
Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.
Word Count: 6.6 k
Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!
You can find the original here.
Enjoy~
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“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.
It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.
At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.
You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.
Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.
As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.
You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.
“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.
You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.
It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.
“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.
“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.
“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.
But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.
“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.
“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.
“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.
“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.
“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.
“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.
“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.
“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.
“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.
They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.
“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.
“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.
“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.
“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.
The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.
“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.
Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.
“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.
It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.
“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.
The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.
Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.
When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.
“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.
“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.
“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.
“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.
“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.
You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.
You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.
Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.
Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.
“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.
“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.
“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.
“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.
“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.
“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.
You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.
“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.
Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.
“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.
The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.
He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.
“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.
“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.
“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”
The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.
Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.
You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.
But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.
Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.
Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.
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***3 months later***
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A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.
Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.
But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.
In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.
As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.
You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.
The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.
And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.
Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.
You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.
“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”
“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.
“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.
“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.
“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.
“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.
“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.
The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.
It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.
After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.
Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.
“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.
Click.
You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.
Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.
“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.
Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.
You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.
“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.
Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.
“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.
“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.
You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.
When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.
After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.
“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.
“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.
“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.
“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.
Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.
He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.
Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.
“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.
Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.
“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.
They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.
Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.
“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.
“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.
You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.
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mittensmorgul · 4 years ago
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Today on the TNT loop... 12.23 and 13.01 (so far, it’s early and we’re going through 13.04 today). So I’m deep in the Grief Arc feels.
But again, it all hits different now. Yes, I’ve rewatched these since 15.20 aired, this is my second pass through the loop since then. But with a bit of emotional distance from that mess, there’s interesting stuff here.
Looking at the finale, at what Jack would become, at how that ties in with themes of Faith versus Free Will... it’s like this was the point where Chuck finally weaponized free will against them, where their choices would play into his story rather than fight against it. No wonder Dean was so angry after this point.
No wonder Chuck abandoned them, refused to answer Dean’s prayer to bring Cas back. Cas wasn’t SUPPOSED to come back. Chuck finally got him out of the way, and it was literally Dean’s grief unwittingly channeled through Jack’s power that woke him up again and gave him the tools to fight his way back. The fact Cas never KNEW this is still one of those things that I will scream forever about.
(In every way that actually mattered, Dean was silenced)
But in today’s viewing, I’m mostly screaming about the “drunk angel” Miriam and her vendetta against Becky.
DRUNK WOMAN: Whoa. What happened to you hand?
DEAN: Nothin’.
DRUNK WOMAN: Doesn’t look like nothing. You punch a wall or something? I punched a wall once. Well, a poster on a wall, but same diff, right? Freshman year, I had this roommate, Becky. She had this giant poster of Elsa. You know, from “Frozen”? And I mean, first, who brings something like that to college? A cartoon? Really? Like, “hello homeschool,” right?
[As she is talking, Drunk Woman is writing something in the dust of the Impala’s passenger side window, and Dean removes a bottle of whisky from the trunk. He takes a swallow and then pours some over his bloody knuckles]
DEAN: You done?
DRUNK WOMAN: Anyway, Becky was - and I say this in the most feminist, screw the patriarchy way - a giant superbitch. She’d take things, and break things, and piss people off, and just do whatever she wanted, no matter who it hurt.
[Dean is making please stop talking faces at her but she is oblivious]
DRUNK WOMAN: It’s like the whole world was just Becky to her, you know?
DEAN: Mmm. So you punched her poster.
DRUNK WOMAN: And lit most of her stuff on fire.
[Dean gives her a look]
DRUNK WOMAN: I got issues.
[...]
[As the Impala pulls away, you can see Drunk Woman has written “BITCH” in the dust on the window.]
*
So, we have this invented story about a woman named Becky. But after s15, we KNOW how much control Chuck has over the story, and especially of certain characters-- like demons and angels. This is why he was so infuriated that he couldn’t just control Castiel. We saw him DIRECTLY insert Lilith back into the story in 15.05, limiting her power to ONLY follow his “script.” To the point she was entirely self-aware of this and her place in the story, and the fact that she was essentially just a character in the story without free will.
And I kinda wonder how much Miriam functions in the exact same way-- the way Chuck has implied that ALL angels are expected to function.
MIRIAM: Okay. If she shoots you. (Sheriff Barker looks to Dean in confusion) I don't know what he's told you. I mean, I can guess. Some line about how he and his brother... (deepens voice) save the world. Grr. So macho. (she sighs and speaks in her normal voice) But really, he's not a hero. He's Becky. DEAN: Becky? The roommate Becky? MIRIAM: You take things and break things and piss people off, and just do whatever you want, no matter who it hurts. Also, you're a giant super bitch. DEAN: Well, it takes one to know one. MIRIAM: So, yeah, you're Becky, and Becky needs to die. You're on, Barney Fife.
*
Yes... she says Dean is “Becky,” this Becky that breaks things and who saw the whole world as Becky... Though... her understanding of how free will works in this context really does sound twisted and tainted by Chuck’s perspective on his own “disobedient” characters. Because to Chuck, the story is the most important thing, it’s the only thing, and it’s entirely his own creation.
No wonder creating human souls made him feel a little queasy... and I’m still not sure that was something he actually did on purpose, especially with the free will bit included in the package. Because from the moment free will existed, Chuck began to lose control of the story of creation. People could choose to tell their OWN stories, better stories than the one Chuck created the universe to tell in the first place. Humanity makes things better, bigger than Chuck could imagine, through the power of love that Chuck could never invent for himself or understand for himself. Or even possibly FEEL for himself.
And who was his original human pawn in the story, way back in 5.01? Becky. Becky who took HIS story and “broke” it and pissed him off, doing whatever she wanted no matter who it hurt (even if it was only Him as the Original Author getting precious about his story). But as we saw in 15.04, Becky refused to just take his story as he dished it out. She went out and made her own life, reimagined the Story of Supernatural as something better than it was-- filed with life and humanity and love. She stopped idolizing HIM as the creator and saw it as HER story now too, the version she was passionate about, the version that brought HER joy.
And what did Chuck do to her? Like Miriam, he “punched her cartoon poster” and then burned most of her stuff. Because Becky had the audacity to take the story she’d been written into and make it her own. She refused to “obey” the story Chuck wanted to tell. And he saw her story as infantile and uninteresting. Because he couldn’t just let it go... like Elsa... lol.
And what Chuck can’t control, he tends to destroy, like Miriam did in this episode. Only... Miriam failed too. Sure, it was only one battle in the long war of Free Will versus The Story, but it was the opening note in this section of the story which was supposed to be about Humanity and Free Will finally triumphing over the story to free themselves from it.
The story itself was telling humanity to hold on, to keep telling OUR version of the story, because that was how to defeat the story itself. Human love and choice and will as something BETTER than the story Chuck wanted to tell. Not just handing it off to someone who has been built into the perfect vessel to carry on his story, but literally allowing humanity to be free from the narrative Chuck spent all of creation trying to build for them. And that freedom was literally built upon the very human love embodied in Dean Winchester (and learned by Castiel to the point it changed him and freed him from Chuck’s control). Cas deserved to come back. Jack deserved to be freed from his destiny. Billie deserved better than being manipulated and villainized by Chuck’s final chapter. Eileen deserved the freedom to choose her own happiness. Sam deserved a chance to do the same. Dean deserved to live, and to have a chance to tell Cas he feels exactly the same way about him. And that’s the tip of the iceberg of what everyone deserved.
(they deserved to not be “burned” for their audacity to want something more than what Chuck thought they deserved)
They deserved to hang up their Frozen posters without some self-righteous bitch judging them for it, and to live their lives how THEY wanted to, rather than how Chuck thought they should for his own egotistical self-justification.
Chuck said way back in s11 that he wanted to create the universe to make something better than just him and Amara, and everything after that point reads like he was pissed off at the fact that humanity went out and actually DID grow to be better than him, in every way possible. Sure, we fuck up, we make mistakes, and some of us are actively malicious and terrible people. But... overall? We try. We keep trying to be better, to love more, to choose the right thing... to do our best in a world where it’s far too easy to do our worst, to take a few words from Cas.
And it just hurts my heart to know what we COULD have had if Chuck didn’t actually win.
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rosekasa · 4 years ago
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I love your writing so much!! You are genuinely like my favorite writer and I mean that both in terms of fandom and professional writing (particularly short stories). You know how there are some sentences that are either just kinda filler or they set up something important but they aren't super interesting lines to read, they're just important for structure? You don't have any of those, literally every line—every word—you write is gorgeous and hits me right in my heart. (1/2)
wriYou're able to evoke such emotion in your writing, I really can't get enough of it, I end up rereading your fics all the time because I feel like you just *get* it. You get how to use every word, every piece of dialogue, the way you create pauses and control the flow of your pieces is just masterful. I was wondering what writers you look up to/enjoy (fandom and professional)? (2/2) 
this ask. i am going to print it and frame it and put it on my wall. anon u made me so happy SFSDJFSDJDFS this is so sweet im so so glad you like my writing 🥺 all of it comes straight from my ladynoir-filled heart and ur kind words mean so much to me
since we’re talkin books i just wanna. shamelessly drop my goodreads. it’s maketea. like my ao3 name. because i’m uncreative
i love reading in my free time so i have loads of authors i love!! one of my absolute favourite authors are j.p. delaney - his books are. probably not for everyone LOL but i discovered him when i was 14 and my best friend and i have been buying every single one of his books as they come out every since :’) i love his writing style so much, it’s so pleasing to read
i also really like stephen king! his narrative style is amazing. i read a lot of thrillers (j.p. delaney is also a thriller author) and i think it’s a super tough genre to nail but when authors do nail it. hoo boy. the descriptions are incredible. stephen king has such a talent to bring the story to life and use imagery to really. gross out the reader when necessary SHFDSFJDFSJ
i don’t have a whole bunch of writers i read regularly other than those two, but honourable mentions to some other authors of whose works i’ve read maybe one or two:
- a.r. torre: i read ‘the ghostwriter’ the other day and wow. WOW. the writing was gorgeous. it was such a beautiful book. ur girl might’ve teared up a little a lot
- vivek shraya: ‘the subtweet’ is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. it is an iconic book. shraya is a trans desi author and her writing is gorgeous. ‘the subtweet’ focuses on two south asian musicians and the development and destruction of their friendship and it is absolutely incredible. so well-written.
- nabokov: ofc i’m gonna put nabokov here. i wrote a 4k research paper on ‘lolita’ and the way perspective and narrative style is used. he has an amazing grasp of language and it ! mystifies me ! i am in love with the way he writes. it is incredible. not the kind of writing style i’d personally aim for but a writing style that is VERY fun to read. i love it so much. i totally want to do a pastiche in the style of nabokov if i find the time
as for fic authors, i’m really terrible at keeping up with the writers i love in the fandom (i read fic sdhdfssd sporadically) BUT ! to name a few off the top of my head:
@emsylcatac @jattendschaton @ladybuginettes @chatnoirinette @pipthemagnificentwrites @hanaasbananas @macaronsforchat @lnc2 @botherkupo @thatanonwiththeoc @komorebirei @seance-vent (seance is from a diff fandom but she has been such a huge writing inspo for me since i was like. 15) 
ye !! sorry for the long reply i just love talkin about stuff like this hehe. thank u for ur ask !
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reversecreek · 4 years ago
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clicks onto the dash wearing kitten heels n coyly holding my bang....... hi. me again. it took me so long to select a gif to use on cricket’s intro n i settled on this one bc he looks so unsure abt his smile n it’s rly his essence <3 u can find his pinterest board here n his (work in progress) spotify playlist here. hmu to plot!!! 
* alex wolff, cis male + he/him | you know cricket donahue, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to should have known better by sufjan stevens like, a million times this year, which slipping on wet leaves to photograph a tree struck alight by lightning, delivering a tedtalk to your own reflection to hype yourself up to buy groceries, hiding your hands inside of your sleeves in case you grew an impromptu megan fox thumb overnight thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is october 1st, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )
HISTORY:
cricket ws born to a couple tht lived in lilac ridge. their trailer was tucked closest to the woods n always fell under the shade. it was like the leaves wanted to pretend they were a perpetual hanging cloud on the family n that was kind of fitting. their only reason fr having him in the first place was a kind of shrugged like........... we’re under the income bracket we’d get child benefits so why not! may as well try it to rake in some extra cash! needless to say they didn’t rly think it thru or anticipate all of the responsibilities tht came w children n wound up seeing him as an extremely large burden n boy didn’t he know it!
(child neglect & abuse tw) i’ll try to keep this part vague n brief but things were Not Good for cricket growing up. people in lilac ridge didn’t like his parents n it was for a gd reason. he remembers foggy things. being little n wandering around combing the grass with a stick to search for wrappers to suck on bc he was hungry. feeling uneasy when the front door opened. finding out his name was cricket bc the insects used to crawl into their trailer thru the vents n his parents liked to squish them into the carpet -- his mum told him as much once. i think this says a lot. to excessively trim the fat of the story he wound up entering the system at around 8 after his latest and most serious hospital visit. his parents hd to deal w the authorities n last he heard they bounced to evade charges.
(anxiety & violence & trauma tw) cricket sustained a few lifelong injuries from his time in lilac ridge. his knee didn’t heal right which meant he had (n still has to this day) a limp n he’s partially deaf in one ear. he’s always been an incredibly insecure n anxious person so this mde him rly self conscious going into a strange n new environment tht wld b difficult fr any kid to adjust to, nvm w these added worries. he jst felt like something weird to ogle at honestly. he probably wld have felt like that no matter where he was or what he looked like. he cld be in a huge hall of 200 people all wearing the same uniform n he’d still feel like the odd one out. needless to say this didn’t rly help him make friends
cricket’s coping mechanisms were romanticising the things tht other people found ugly or embarrassing or painfully ordinary. he liked it when the rain hit clunky drops against school windows n forbid everyone from playing outside bc he could feel the vibrations through the rubber soles of his shoes n it was a little bit like hearing all of the world at once fr just a moment. he liked medieval fantasy lore about stout gnomes w crumbs in their beards n cheeks red from ale. he liked fallen nests with the remnants of hatched eggs still dirty from the branches n soil they’d hit on the way down. he liked the way the sunlight leaked thru the leaves of the trees in the woods and how, when he sat very still, he could tune into the ringing that was always in his ear n pretend it was coming from the same place, that light thru the leaves, that the angels were trying to talk to him.
he spent a lot of time in the red room at his high skl (i’m begging u this is not a 50 shades reference) (after googling i jst realised it’s called a darkroom bt i’m leaving this fr the sake of sexy bimbo authenticity) n felt quite at home in there. he borrowed a camera whenever he cld (maybe he did yearbook) n photography became his way of immortalising the world as the romanticised version he wanted it to be. his memories were bad bt his photos were beautiful. maybe if he took enough they’d paste over n bleed into each other. maybe bad cld be replaced w beautiful if he tried his very best.
he got placed into fostering w a family once bt apparently didn’t meet the vibe check of their tastes so he wound up returning to the group home he’d initially been placed in. overall this is where he grew up n he aged out the system rather than getting adopted. there was a sense of floundering/isolation/not feeling gd enough in tht bt cricket made do the best he knew how. 
that said there were some gd points! (shocking i kno bc his life hs been so fking bleak so far bt please it’s ok........) (is it?) (🤔). basically he interned as an assistant at this local photography studio during high skl working under this kind of whimsical yet endearing old man. suspected wizard possibly in cricket’s eyes, as an avid fantasy genre reader. for one of his bdays said old man / his boss bought him his very own film camera n cricket cried bc he’d never been bought a bday gift. this ws rly embarrassing bc this old man didn’t know how to emote n neither did cricket so he ws jst sort of sat wiping his eyes n sniffling saying he wasn’t crying as the old man pretended to suddenly clean his lenses. when cricket graduated he offered him a full time position there. they do like. wedding photographs n family portraits n all kinds of things...... pay isn’t huge bt it’s something n he Loves taking photos so it’s sexy <3
PERSONALITY:
SUCH an anxious person it’s actually unreal. overthinks absolutely everything he’s ever said. one morning he might hv put green socks on n for the rest of the day he’s nervously looking around like omggggggg they’re all looking at my socks probably thinking im a little green sock boy thinking i’m a fool n a jester this is all everyone’s probably thinking about i hv to hide my green socks..... even tho literally no-one cares
once saw a girl eating a chicken wing n in his head was like ok she likes chicken good future gift idea..... n turned up at her house with an entire rotisserie chicken
probably thinks WAY too hard abt what to write in bday cards n googles like generic ideas that he can use.... u open a card from cricket n it always says smthn weird like “Warmest wishes and love on your birthday and always!” or “You deserve everything happy. Wishing you that all year long!” tht he got off google
nervously fiddles w things a lot. literally anything. his hair. the cuffs of his sleeves. a thread on his bag. u name it
struggles w eye contact sometimes............ it’s like. he wants to talk to ppl n make friends bt he’s honestly so bad at it. he’s fumbling thru life like a nervous headless chicken
ALWAYS has his camera on him. like always. will tke a photo of u bc he thinks u look nice then be like im so sorry im so sorry...... bowing his head shakily holding his camera bc he doesn’t even kno what possessed him he jst thought it’d be a nice photograph bt boundaries exist. probably breathes very heavily over this later in his room panicking thinking he nw seems like hannibal lecter
probably more confident online bc he has time to think abt what he says more.......... i can see him hving a group of online friends tht he’s more confident w. honestly he’s pretty witty at heart he jst has a hard time verbalising things so ppl overlook him sometimes bt once u get to know him more / he’s more comfy he can b a funny little man.....
loves photographs where he cuts something out of them. loves missing spaces n voids. thinks it’s a rly interesting concept when something that isn’t there becomes the focus of a photograph where everything else is. probably loses his mind fr a collage like a front row 1d stan. likes experimenting w light n perception. pretty artistic honestly hs probably made a stop motion film in the past bc that’s just an extended form of photography in his mind bt i doubt he showed anyone
ummm...... very sweet bt like. he reminds me a lot of this quote. “he had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise.” feel like tht sums him up quite nicely
WANTED CONNECTIONS
someone he met at a wedding: cricket probably ws forced to photograph a wedding fr his boss one time n it cld b interesting as a place to meet from that....... like. i can imagine either it being rly awkward maybe he accidentally spilled a drink on ur muse n was stuttering rly apologetic n it ws just a train wreck. or mayb they took pity on him or even (in a shocking turn of events) a shine to him n invited him to drink n dance. omgggg the thought of cricket trying to dance makes me wna die n probably mkes cricket wna hyperventilate bt idk maybe he went wild n let loose. mayb they wound up damaging the camera somehow. mayb they had to scramble to get another one n ur muse covered the cost n it was a strange late night excursion tht cricket thought about a lot since. cricket probably vowed to pay them bk somehow no matter what. idk. we can work things out. lots of diff options here. doesn’t have to b a wedding either can b any event tht required a photographer
ppl he went to school w: pretty self explanatory i suppose...... maybe they were frm completely different worlds..... mayb ur muse was popular n cricket was definitely not but they got paired fr an assignment n had to work on a project together....... mayb cricket asked ur muse on a date one time n it was completely embarrassing bc he didn’t realise they had a bf n it haunts cricket at night still bc he’s rly dramatic.... mayb ur muse felt sry fr him n ate lunch w him n inducted him into their group like a lost puppy finding a home.... world’s our oyster
neighbours from his brief time at lilac ridge: not to reference taylor swift but i’m gna reference taylor swift n say we cld do a seven inspired plot here. sighs a little..... then sighs a lot. he was here ages 0-8 so idk. we cld work out childhood plots perhaps....
sickening simp: i mean.............. cricket probably gets crushes on ppl so easily like just. anyone who’s the slightest bit nice to him.................. he’s a disgrace. ok i take it back. bt also please get it together freak............... i didn’t say that. he’d probably b extra nice to this person n try n pay close attention to things they liked so he cld get them little gifts. just a bit embarrassing n lovestruck bless his heart. wldn’t expect anything back tho honestly that just isn’t something he tends to do.
let’s go gays: cricket’s bi but he probably was rly in his head abt liking boys n tried to sort of squash it internally during his younger yrs...... i think he’s more comfy w it now MAYBE idk bt back then i picture him having a friend tht ws kind of like. similarly loserish as him perhaps (no offence to ur muse potentially filling this plot or cricket bt let’s face the facts) n they’d hang out n play games a lot n one time it jst kind of happened n he was like............. *struts in looking around sharply* What going on here? except not. bc it’s cricket. more like *shambles in looking around anxiously* What’s, uh... What’s... the happenings? S--... I’m sorry. (immediate apology for saying what’s the happenings bc nobody talks like that n it was an impulsive panic bc he didn’t know what else to say)
those who grew up in the system w him: maybe at the group home or i’d also like the family that fostered him n said sayonara. honestly i imagine the parents just thought he ws a bit too much of a handful / had too much baggage which is rly quite merciless n terrible but. if u think that aligns w ur muses home situation hmu......
um. can’t think of more bt just anything honestly. jst go wild.......
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media-on-the-mind101 · 4 years ago
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Turtles All the Way Down: OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (Book)
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* May contain spoilers*
I recently finished reading Turtles All the Way Down by John Green, and it is now one of my favorite novels. The story hit me close to home because it deals with a disorder that I was diagnosed with. I thought writing an article about it would be a good way to educate you readers, while also sharing a little bit about myself.
Turtles All the Way Down is story about a teenage girl named Aza Holmes who suffers from OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The story shows how the disorder impacts her daily life as well as her relationships. Because the author suffers from the disorder in real life, the depiction is fairly accurate. However, I spotted a few things that might suggest a whole different diagnosis whatsoever. The story also covers Aza’s treatment which I felt was missing a lot of important things.
According to the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a disorder where a person gets caught in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions. Obsessions are intrusive thoughts that trigger distressing feelings, while compulsions are repetitive behaviors that are performed to relieve anxiety or prevent something bad from happening. OCD is often confused with OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder) which is characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. OCPD is often portrayed as OCD in the media which means that stereotypical OCD is really OCPD.
While Aza does have obsessions that involve cleaning, they are more about health and less about being organized. People with OCD often have a specific thing they worry about, and for Aza it is contracting an infection from a parasite called C-diff which essentially causes food poisoning and stomach damage. While she doesn’t really do anything to neutralize or cancel her thoughts out, she repeatedly reads articles online and uses hand sanitizer to relieve her anxiety.
As you may already have figured out, people with OCD often have illogical thought patterns and they are fully aware of it. But their anxiety makes them perform their compulsion anyway “just to make sure.” This is seen in the book when Aza drinks a bottle of hand sanitizer to insure that all bad bacteria inside her body are cured. Of course we all know, that drinking hand sanitizer would actually be more harmful then helpful.
“Drinking hand sanitizer is not going to make you healthier, you crazy fuck. But they can talk to your brain. THEY can tell your brain what to think, and you can’t. So, who’s running the show? Stop it, please (pg. 210).
In this scene, Aza knows that drinking hand sanitizer is actually more harmful then helpful, but she feels as if something is controlling her brain. The “they” refers to her OCD and she tells it to stop but isn’t able to control it.
While reading the book, I noticed that some of Aza’s symptoms don’t quite fit the diagnosis of OCD, such as her feeling of not knowing if she is awake or dreaming, real or non-existent. In one chapter she says the following:
“the pressing of my thumbnail against my fingertip had started off as a way of convincing myself that I was real . . . every time I thought maybe I wasn’t real, I would dig my nail into my fingertip, and I would feel the pain, and for a second I’d think, Of course I’m real” (pg.106).
The feeling of disconnect she has from her own body and surroundings are actually symptoms of DDD (Depersonalization - Derealization Disorder). According to the DSM, the disorder is characterized by persistent feelings of being a stranger to yourself or your surroundings. According to Psychology Today, however, you have to have no signs of other mental illness that can explain your symptoms, in order to be diagnosed with DDD. This is when diagnosing a patient becomes challenging; so many disorders can have similar symptoms or be co-morbid with each other that it they can difficult to differentiate.
The other symptom I noticed that is actually its own disorder, is the fact that Aza has a habit of digging her nail into her fingertip to the point where her finger becomes scarred. While picking of the skin is often comorbid with OCD, it is actually a separate disorder called excoriation disorder or dermatillomania. According to mhanational.org, this disorder is characterized by picking of the skin that creates skin lesions and that causes disruption in everyday life. It is true that the disorder falls under the category of obsessive compulsive disorders in the DSM, but excoriation disorder is not the same as OCD.
Now we’ve defined what OCD is, but another important part of how the book portrays it is in the treatment. According to Mayoclinic.com, the most common treatments for OCD include CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), exposure therapy, and medications such as SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors). These are the treatments that I had during my childhood, and they have been statistically proven to be very effective. 
In the book Aza sees a therapist and takes medication, but she doesn’t get exposure therapy, one of the main treatments for OCD. Aza mainly gets CBT which is essentially talk therapy, but she is not forced to face her obsessions without performing her compulsions. An example of this would be touching a dirty substance and then forcing herself not to take out her phone or use hand sanitizer. 
The last important thing is how OCD effects a peoples relationships. Throughout the story, the characters in Aza’s life talk about how hard she is to deal with. One scene toward the end really emphasizes the importance of this issue. In this scene, Aza and her best friend Daisy get into an argument because Daisy feels that Aza is too self-centered.
She says “and you’re so, like, pathologically uncurious that you don’t even know what you don’t know.” And later she adds “I don’t mean that you’re a bad friend or anything. But you’re slightly tortured, and the way you’re tortured is sometimes also painful for, like, everyone around you”(pg. 216).
Daisy is frustrated because she feels like Aza is so caught up in her own thoughts that she never shows any interest in the lives of others. When she says Aza is “tortured” and it makes it painful for everyone around her, this shows just how much her illness impacts her relationships with other people. Basically, people find her difficult to be around because they, in a sense, have to experience everything with her and they begin to lose patience. At the end of this scene, the two girls get into a car accident because they weren’t paying attention to the road.
Aza’s other important relationship in the story is with is Davis, who is like a friend with benefits. The reason he never becomes Aza’s boyfriend is because of her social anxiety and fear of contamination that prevents her from being physically close to people. 
“I enjoyed being with him more in this nonphysical space, but I also felt the need to board up the windows of myself. Me: I feel kinda precarious in general, and I can’t really date you. Or date anyone. I’m sorry but I can’t. I like you, but I can’t date you” (pg. 162).
I this scene, Aza reveals that she communicates better online then in person and this suggests that she has some form of social anxiety.
Another scene tells us just how much her fear of germs effects her life: “billions of people kiss and don’t die just make sure his microbes aren’t going to permanently colonize you come on please stop this . . . then you’ll get C. diff and boom dead in four days please fucking stop just kiss him JUST CHECK TO MAKE SURE. I pulled away” (pg. 152).
In this scene, Aza has difficulty being physically intimate with Davis because her fear of germs prevents from enjoying it like most people would. Based on this fact, we could predict that Aza will have difficulty in her future relationships because of her mental illness and this is a great example of how it effects people in real life.
As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, the author John Green himself suffers from OCD. Compared to his own experiences, the book is pretty similar. Like the main character, Green suffers from obsessions about contamination. In an episode of the Vlogbrothers Youtube channel, Green explains that
 “I might worry out of nowhere that my food is contaminated or somehow poisoned and then somehow suddenly that will be the only thought I'm able to think . . . I can lose all control over my thoughts for an extended period of time to the extent that I can't follow what's happening in a TV show or read a book.” (Green).
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*John Green, author of Turtles All the Way Down*
So like Aza, he worries about contamination to the point where he can’t focus on anything else. He also has the same kinds of thought spirals :  
“the compulsive behaviors I use to cope with these obsessive thought spirals, repeatedly checking my food for contamination, for instance, or spending hours Googling what will happen to me if I eat moldy bread.” (Green).
As you can see, the characters compulsion of checking in internet comes straight from the author’s real life experience. According to the New York Times, John Green developed the disorder at around seven years old and eventually got it under control with the right medication and CBT. It was not said weather or not he underwent exposure therapy. So the treatment that Aza receives is based on the way some treatments work in real life.
While reading Turtles All the Way Down I  often found myself feeling nostalgic because my own experience with OCD is very similar. Although I do not have an obsession with a specific thing like Aza does, I have the same types of intrusive thoughts. I also have similar compulsions to seek reassurance from the internet or other people about my health, as well as other compulsions to neutralize, or cancel out my thoughts. 
Because I had Tourette Syndrome (a neurological disorder that causes physical impulses) as a child, I developed what is called Tourettic OCD. It is pretty much exactly what it sounds like; Tourette Syndrome and OCD combined. The reason this occurs in some individuals is because the ability to filter out and thoughts and the impulse to move, take place in the same brain area, the basal ganglia. As a result of this, my compulsions tend to be more physical, such as moving my eyes excessively whenever I see negative words in a book, or someone getting sick in a movie.
Like Aza, I went through CBT but I also went through several years of exposure therapy and I take an SSRI in conjunction. I think exposure therapy is a very important part of the treatment of disorders such as OCD and PTSD and I was disappointed that the book did not include it. I think that if you are going to educate a person about disorder, then you have to educate them about the treatment as well. In conclusion, Turtles All the Way Down was a great novel that captured OCD more accurately then any movie I have seen. The fact that the author has the disorder makes it all the more realistic and personal, and I have to say as a person with OCD and a psychology major, I was quite pleased with the way the character was portrayed. The story may have been missing a few important elements but overall it provided a realistic way of educating people about the disorder.
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stardust-steel · 4 years ago
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Will you do it too? 👉🏻👈🏻
Thanks for asking me Buu 💕
1. If published and in DB fandom have 17 counting in Ao3 and ffnet (different pen name )
If unpublished or counting other fandoms, above 30 but I would rather not discuss them because they are not me now :3 *also hides her 67 page google docs of ffs )
2. Average length of fic to be honest I don’t find this a meaningful question as I write whatever I want to explore and whatever length that comes to is what it needs.:3 most of my stuff are long and/or multi chaptered though and definitely the upcoming ones are. Whoops
3. I wouldn’t say fav trope but I tend to gravitate to slow burn, angst, hurt comfort, fluff and subversive. I also love found family tropes and tend to attack POV of characters like this
5. Easiest part of writing is the actual writing itself, when the idea is still hot and it’s like I’m the messenger , the thing writes itself and i am only the channel
I hate the editing process but that’s probably the most important bit to turn raw brilliance into better polished refined elegance
I hate writing summaries
4. Fav part of writing is to be honest when some long time later I’ve forgotten what I wrote and I reread them
and it’s like discovering a fav author who wrote everything I wanted to see except the author is me. Don’t mean to be conceited, just lovely to see what I wanted to see
6. Pet peeve? I don’t really have one for writing, does the summary writing count ?
7. Writing habit - having multiple docs and copies open of the scene so I can try different versions. I used to write down specific scenes I wanted and connect them all later together , move things like a jigsaw. With the upcoming fics I’ve started outlining them though because they are plot heavy and I want to fix that down so I can focus on character
8. WIP line
... this is hard
“That hurt like a bitch”
“I’m sorry, would you prefer to be dead?”
Healer Vegeta AU
9. An idea for a fic I have? This was strangely phrased
-Hunger games Kakavege fic which will parallel all of dbz and possibly super
-The epic teen fic myself and @greydivide are working on :3
10. Fav line from a fic - is it my fic or someone else’s? If someone else, I’d have to pick @engineerdz Guiltless fic line when Vegeta says something like “where are your shoes?”in lieu of addressing more important things (context he’d just been kissed by Goku)
If it’s my fic, maybe sorry I have to pick 2... in Agent Oblivion when Goku screams at Agent V “Stop calling me that!”
And in Call It What You Want when Goten asks this:
Goten: uncle Vegeta how do saiyan tell they like eachother
V: they don’t, they just fight
Goten: but you and dad fight all the time, does that mean you like eachother
V: chokes
11. Fav scene ? If it’s from someone else’s fic, aaa so hard so many good ones!! Please don’t be offended if not chosen it’s 130am for me here lol. I’ll go with Caecus by @capsulecrisistime because it broke my heart when Vegeta gave up, or Once again @engineerdz Guiltless fic when they first kiss, first kiss!! or @vakaara Cold day fic when Vegeta was very cutely being not- jealous over Broly, @dulcineawrites Take Care gift fic when Goku bandages Vegeta’s palm.
If it’s my fic, probably the whole sequence in Agent Oblivion when Goku uncovers who Agent V is all the way to when Vegeta sacrifices himself again and Goku’s all NO I WONT ALLOW THIS and gets Merus to link their life force together
Or in “Call it what you want” when Goku’s laughing at Vegeta after 18 kisses him on the cheek as thanks for saving Marron (I’m still kind of 👉👈 proud of my characterisation of 18 here, I’ve been told it was spot on with the kakavegeness too)
12. Ah treasure fic is hard to choose. At this point I’m going to assume it’s referring to my fics.
Maybe Agent Oblivion because it literally is all my epics thrown together - identity mess, Goku and Vegeta slow burn, endless saving eachother, Vegeta fighting off Majin a second time and facing punishment for his crimes like the dignified royal prince he is and both him and Goku being all badass in THIS NEXT CHAPTER COMING 😆😆 and well it was written through as a way cope with a loss and tough point of my life. So yes. But I treasure all my fics to be honest because so much heart was involved
13. Think I accidentally answered this up there
14. Vegeta Goku, Goku Vegeta. I have a fondness for 18, Merus and relate to future trunks as a person for reasons
Since writing a 17 POV fic I have become more attached to him too
But favourite??? Without a doubt Vegeta and Goku
15. This is more chapter titles than story for me
Agent Oblivion (I feel that’s unique, you won’t find another like it)
The Defiant One
Scratching The Surface because it was from Scratch the cat’s POV about kakavege. I know I’m lame but it was a pun I couldn’t resist 🤣
16 does kakavege tag count? Otherwise slow burn
17. Teen and up, I always try to play safe and put M
18. All my fics have dry humour, and theme or something greater I am exploring through the characters, if you look for it. All of it
If you’re talking a smaller scale answer I insert an allusion to stardust in every fic because “we’re all made of star stuff” (Vegeta and Goku’s home planet has been reduced to stardust after all)
19. I think this so similar to many authors response - have fun
I stress out a lot over what I write and whether the jigsaw fits but It truly should be fun because it’s fic and what you love
20. This fic is not yet out (hunger games kakavege and healer vegeta!) so for now I’ll say “This space between us “ because it’s my realistic take on Goku and Vegetas relationship or Agent Oblivion which has been repeatedly told to me to be very unique not because of the identity mess but because every layer from the villain to the plot to the twists has been very different and good diff
This was told to me, I am not saying it of myself
But ask me again in a couple of months and I might say that Hunger games fic
Thanks for asking me @baby-buu-buu
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inyoursheets · 4 years ago
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author meme
i got tagged by the dear @sothischickshe
im tagging @medievalraven​, @fairhairedkings and @mego42 if you feel like it, no pressure whatsoever
ao3 name: nomind
fandoms: girls, good
number of fics: 7
fic i spent the most time on: warm water! first attempt at multi-chapter paired with inability to outline / zero planning skills equals oceans of time spent trying to figure things out lol
fic i spent the least amount of time on: oh it’s gotta be one of the short smutty ones. i assume take it but maybe it’s some time in your sheets???
most hits: warm water
most kudos: warm water. 666 to be exact. somebody take one for the team and come save my christian ass please
most comments: warm water by far and people are SO nice!!!! and are SO mad at me!!!!! i love it!!!!! it fuels me so much to watch people SufferTM bc i like putting the slow in slowburn (: (: (: im gonna miss that a lot when i finish this fic i imagine
most bookmarks: warm water, but actually not that big a diff w the instigator
highest total word count: also warm water
favourite fic i wrote: ohhh i think it’s a tie between the instigator and warm water. im very glad that i feel like i managed to pull the threesome fic off. there isn’t much i’d change about that fic and im genuinely happy with what i wrote. im glad im satisfied with it!
that said, warm water is my baby bc a) it’s so self-indulgent b) i love torturing people, see above c) im accidentally processing some things through this fic, ew d) it’s been nice to sink my teeth in one story for a longer period of time e) i like that it’s mine? if that makes sense? mine to write, mine to ruin, mine to struggle with. like as much as i hate having to actually write sometimes and as much as i get stuck with the plot sometimes, esp in the second half of the fic, it’s still fun to work it out and write and sometimes suddenly stumble upon a scene that works out better than i expected it to, sometimes surprise myself with how much feeling i could pack into a scene, sometimes reread and genuinely enjoy what i read/like the emotional beats of the story (am i using those words right). so while i complain about writing this fic a lot i also love it
fic i want to rewrite/expand on: one may expect the bounce house guy!AU to be expanded or the exes!AU that i often lament going about too messily, but im actually feeling more inspired to work on a possible follow-up to how do i even... say that? to explore communication during sex bc i find that an interesting topic
share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on: i see this was another sneak way of trying to get me to write. disgusting. since i don’t wanna talk about the story ideas flinging through my head bc they deserve no attention until i figure out the final chapters of warm water, i guess you can get a snippet. but! feel my rage!
Beth’s not sure why but the tears are uncontrollable, starting the moment the door closed behind Thanh and showing no signs of stopping. She managed to keep a smile on her face as she kissed him quickly on the lips, feeling the water droplets drip from his just-showered hair as he deepened it a little, slipping a tongue inside her mouth, leaving with a promise to call her later that she wishes he hadn’t made.
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bangtansmysuperhero · 5 years ago
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take me home - prologue
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take me home (best friend AU) | ongoing updates
I was going to break up with him, I really was. I even told you that yesterday, that I was going to break up with him. But I couldn’t. Not even for you, Kim Taehyung.
Copyright © 2020 bangtansmysuperhero
prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | epilogue
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prologue
2 years ago
“Taehyung-ah...” I let out in the thick of our silence. “Taehyung,” I peeked at him from behind my bangs and saw his knuckles turn white while clutching the stem of his wine glass. “Tae, I-” He took a massive swig out of the glass, emptying it before he slammed it down onto the dinner table. My back straightened instantly. His nostrils flared and I knew then that his patience was wearing thin. I swallowed a lump in my throat and tried to continue on, “Something must have come up-” He picked up his utensils and began to cut into his steak with aggression, making screeching noises on his plate as a result of it. “I’m sure of it. I’m sorry-”
The dinner table shook when he slammed the utensils down. “You’re sorry?” He scoffed.
“T-t-taehyung-ah, I-”
“I told you that I didn’t want to meet with any more of your boyfriends, yet you insisted that this one was different.”
“He is!” I pleaded. “He is diff-”
“Of course he is, at least the others showed up! This Namu couldn’t even-”
“Namjoon, Taehyung-ah. His name is Namjoon.”
“Whatever, Y/N.” Tae rolled his eyes. “He didn’t even have the decency to text or call you to let us know that he was going to be a no-show. Do you know how long we’ve been sitting here, just waiting for him?”
“Tae, I’m-”
“Sorry?” I pouted and nodded. “For making us wait for him? Or for making me eat this steak cold? Do you know how much blood, sweat, and tears I put into cooking this juicy thing nice and medium-rare? Do you? Some people will never have the honour of tasting my cooking and-” His jaw jutted out at our plates and the corners of my lips curled a bit.
“Tae…”
“What?” He grunted.
“I’m really sorry.”
“I know.”
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author’s note: hello to all of my ARMY moots here on Tumblr! i’m new at this, so please give me whatever encouragement you have <3 and reblog & like this story if you like it so far and would like for me to continue writing it. as of right now, i’m thinking that this may be a 10 chapter affair. xxx, LALA Jan. 28/20
word count: 308
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lansizhuis · 6 years ago
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What is scum villain? You mentioned it quite often already and I still don't know what it is 😂
*opens my powerpoint* IM GLAD YOU ASKED BC I WILL TAKE ANY EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT IT 
- it’s the first work of mxtx (the author of mo dao zu shi)
- it has the cultivation theme as well so we still get long hair and pretty faces and sects
- the basic premise is that shen yuan (our mc + shou/uke) read this really long ass novel and he’s pissed tf off with how much plot holes it had and how the main villain named shen qinqiu is a badly written character bc of how much of a scum he was to the protagonist of the novel, luo binghe (and that he isn’t surprised with his gory torture at the hands of the protagonist in the end)
- BUT THEN shen yuan is implied to have died and is then transmigrated to the novel he hated and he becomes shen qingqiu aka the scum villain (so now shen yuan = shen qinqiu)
- okay from here onwards imma use the shortcuts sooo shen qinqiu is SQQ (the “teacher”/”shizun” of LBH; so like their sect has loads of divisions and he’s the master of one of it & specifically where LBH is under) and luo binghe is LBH (he’s the protagonist who supposedly had a harem of hundreds of women in the original novel)
- so bc SQQ is so scared the gory torture and death his character suffered, he resolved to be nice to the protagonist BUT he can’t do it easily bc there is this thing called the “system” (best character in the entire novel im still laughing) so the system is something like the one you see in games?? the one that says, “accept mission to gain blah blah points” basically like an AI but not really?? anyhow the only one that can hear it is SQQ
- anyhow SQQ does something that makes LBH fall in love with him (AND ISTG THE SYSTEM’S REACTION TO THAT IS GOLD)
- im not gonna say so much so you can enjoy it BUT THIS IS SO HILARIOUS
- SQQ has a cool facade 99% of the time but inside when he’s arguing with the system and complaining about life in general, he’s 100% in rage but only internally hahahaha
- LBH is super strong and overpowered like how protagonists are and he used to be a cute bun going all “shizun! shizun!” but then THAT THING happened and when he got back he’s all tall and hot and sexy now but still going “shizun!” shizun!” (only it’s darker hahahahaha) and he’s super possessive of his beloved shizun
- basically we should play a game where we take a shot every time LBH says “shizun” 
- MISUNDERSTANDINGS GALORE x1000 and usually i hate that trope but for them?? it super makes sense AND IT’S SO FUNNY
- this is more of a lighthearted and easy to read novel so nothing really deep but it’s super enjoyable for me
- THE EXTRAS ARE GOLD HAHAHAHA 
- you will learn that sex/making love = papapa
- PAPAPA TO SAVE THE WORLD (rip SQQ’s ass)
- i know i keep saying it’s funny but the story of original!SQQ is going to rip your heart ALSO there are uhh 3 (??) times i felt my heart clench on diff occasions (but don’t worry there are more funny parts)
- why you should read it: THE SYSTEM TROLLING TF OUT OF SQQ AND SQQ’S INTERNAL RAGE 24/7 AND STILL KEEPING A COOL FACADE + Liu Qingge (he’s the master/head of the division of their sect that are warriors so he’s like SQQ’s shidi) and Shan Qinghua (he’s the author of the original novel who also got transmigrated here) are amazingly funny characters too
crap i made half an essay hahahaha YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE ASKED ME LMAO conclusion: please read scum villain and laugh with me while the translated chapters aren’t in THAT PART yet thanks
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gaycharr · 5 years ago
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some tweaks / recapping of Marina’s backstory now that I’ve developed her a bit more:
-im thinking the Renworth name probably is more business than political. think old money and a bunch of old traditional humans. have lots of business connections everywhere and an influential name. your average “rich corporate family who really only care about profit at this point” types
-noble father, i think marina’s mother probably wasn’t a noble though. her mother was her dad’s second wife. family didn’t really like her mom much either, for various reasons (most of which could be chalked up to the family being assholes and pissed off that the dad didn’t marry another noble to further strengthen the name / bloodline)
-older half sister, diff mothers. sister’s mom was a full noble (i think her and the dad had an arranged marriage, but they really did care for each other greatly), but she passed away when Marina’s sister was pretty young (probably 3-5). 
-I think she’s probably about 6-7 years older than Marina? so she might have been off doing school and various other things a lot when Marina was really young, but even so the two are very close and Marina’s sister never hesitates to stand up for her. she kind of relishes arguing with her family. fuck them.
-family favored her sister more and she was the ‘golden child’, but her sister also renounced the family name when Marina was prob about 15 or so and left to go do her own thing and join the Seraphs and stuff b/c she hates the noble culture and tradition of her family. Marina’s sister was always very vocally opinionated and not afraid to argue, but up until then the family had just brushed it off and let themselves believe it was something that she’d grow out of, preferably just in time to settle down and marry.
-they also kind of judge Marina b/c her dad met her mom shortly after his first wife passed away so there was low key lots of rumors and venom about how he MUST have been cheating and what not (the reality is just that shit happens. his wife died and then he met marina’s mom while away on a business thing a few months-a year later and fell in love hard)
-a very smart child. also oddly naive and innocent (its the adhd). when she got old enough to realize that people might perceive her in a negative way it really changed her worldview in a shocking way. before about 8 or so she’d p much always approached everyone openly and happily, ready to bond or talk with anyone. Suddenly aware of the disapproval of others, she becomes really quiet and withdrawn after this and a bit of a people pleaser.
-Marina and her parents actually had a really good relationship. Her mother passed away when she was a young teen I think though? It really affected her, because her and her mother were both one of the few ‘commoners’ to enter into the family and her mom often protected her from family criticism and was basically one of Marina’s best friends. (not that the family is very kind to one another to begin w/ but still)
- ^^ that being said, her father is also v supportive but he’s the oldest son of the current family head so esp after his second wife died and his family started putting more pressure on him following, he wasn’t around very much at all after that (often away on business and what not). like he’s there for his daughters but he’s not there. He’s trying to appease his family and live up to / off his own guilts and shames
-Marina always had a great interest in magic (something her family considers frivolous and unimportant at best and dangerous / evil at worst). When her mom was alive it wasn’t so much an issue, her mom probably argued for her behind the scenes (as well as her sister), and so the worst Marina experienced was probably scoffs and remarks about how it was something she’d move on from. but after her mom passed away the pressure from her family for Marina to take up more ‘useful’ interests / hobbies only increased as time went on. 
-Since her family wasn’t that supportive though she never really got proper schooling on magic at this point, though she did have open access to all kinds of resources, so she was able to do quite a bit of self teaching. didnt often focus on one kind of magic, instead her interest kind of jumps from type to type. consumes information and books at a scary rate
-didn’t have really any friends her age. she was kind of a socially awkward person at this point, so she wasn’t very good at reaching out to her peers. the most peer interaction she probably had was being tutored in the same classes as other noble children. her being a ‘weird’ noble child who sometimes talked too loud or was too eager and had weird interests in magic didn’t make her very popular to begin with as well.
-For a while Marina DID try to be the ideal noble heir for her family after her mother passed. With her dad being the next head of the business, and her oldest sister having revoked the name already, she did have quite a bit of weight on her irt her family now placing their expectations on her shoulder’s instead of her sister’s. They were harder for her to please though because again, they had  favored her sister and already didn’t agree w/ her interests (and after her sister left, they REALLY started being vocal about how anything but doing what the family expects is bad)
-Eventually though, with help from her sister and undercover assistance from her dad (him squirreling away money for her, helping her invest and get her own revenue coming in . . .just in case she upset the family too much or broke away like her sister), she ended up seeking to join the priory even though it angered her family (they didnt agree / understand why she wanted to go research impossible magical things when there was the option to go to a nice business school instead. or maybe even arrange a political business marriage)
-I think she had already had an instant interest in necromancy. Not for any specifically deep reason (though perhaps the early death of her mother contributed subconsciously to her being more into it later on ?). I think she just happened upon a book about it when she was reading random magic tomes as a kid and was just immediately into it. the intricacies and uses are just appealing to her, its  a lot you can puzzle out and work with. 
-Perhaps a part of her was also drawn to it simply because she knew that of all the magic to REALLY take up, necromancy would probably displease her family the most. like adhd rsd is a bitch especially when you’re younger and don’t realize that’s what it is, so she REALLY hated disappointing anyone, especially authority / familial figures. but even so that didn’t stop her from realizing that they were kind of jackass hypocrites and wanting to rebel and do her own thing
-anyways she joins the priory probably when she’s like ? maybe 17-18? at this point she’s probably managed to get some official magical schooling by herself but nothing that deep. Her family name helps her get the attention of the Priory, and a quick proving of her intelligence / aptitude for magic, PLUS the fact she was mostly self taught till now, means she joins rather easily.
-probably a novice in the priory for about a year or two? then she becomes a magister. at this point, with actual teachers and proper resources (not to mention hands on experience), she’s become REALLY good at magic. She’s excelled at necromancy, able to use it with the comfort and ease that belies a lot of study and practice. She’s also well versed in p much all the other schools of magic, at least in theory. Even if she doesn’t know how to actually USE it herself, she has a fair bit of  knowledge on p much all subjects and is always open to learning more about anything.
-her and Sieran were probably bff’s and often got in trouble together. maybe they kissed once ? idk. i need to learn more about Sieran tbh pfff.
-being in the priory and surrounded by others who shared her interest though really helped her bloom from that socially awkward girl who never talked to anyone out of anxiety to a socially awkward girl who loves to socialize anyways and tries not to worry about being a little loud and rambly at times. Even though she doubts herself she really starts to cultivate this natural charisma that just draws other towards her. There’s just something about talking to someone who is as open as Marina is, who isn’t worried about being a little awkward and doesn’t mind some word fumbling from the person she’s talking too, that can really put one at ease.
-she is still connected to her family and still has to deal with them. not sure why she hasn’t left yet, but i think she’s often pondered the idea of taking over her family’s business and turning it into something Good. Either way, i think it’s understandable that even considering it all she’s hesitant to break from her family as her sister did. she still tries to please them, but only enough so that they don’t outright hate her and try to disown her (though it would be hard since her father is the head of the business now and certainly wouldn’t allow that)
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worldnews2day · 2 years ago
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