#but sitting on your hands does nothing to advance your goals
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illshitty · 1 month ago
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Progress is Frustrating
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But vote for the person who you can work with. Vote for the person who will listen.
Obama didn't support gay marriage when he ran in 2008.
But he listened to activists.
In 2011 he ordered the Justice Department to stop fighting against gay marriage.
In 2015 the Supreme Court decided in favor of legalizing gay marriage by a 5-4 vote.
Those seven intervening years felt like an eternity, but a right that's almost taken for granted now was the result.
A different president would have listened to activists on the other side and directed the full resources of the federal government against gay marriage.
Vote for the person who will advance your goals, vote for the person who can be persuaded.
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sigh-tofm · 2 months ago
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if you’re a student… (some 18+)
… price
- keeps you company. he is well established and then some, and the stuff you study is way to advanced for any schooling he ever had, so he settles for helping you in other ways. if you study full time, you want for nothing. he makes sure your billing account is always topped up so you don’t have to work and gets all the shopping done for you. during your study sessions he’s nearby with the newspapers or a half-done report, making sure to keep both of your coffee mugs full. the night before big exams he gives you a massage and cooks a hearty meal to set you up for success.
- it’s not a secret that he finds you incredibly hot when you don your reading glasses and messy hair, no makeup on, and the fantasy of an old man like him having a darling little college student in his bed secretly drives him mad. so when you need to destress after a long session, he’s there to help.
… kyle
- studies with you. he probably has a little side project on his own - of course, he’s already set in his career, but he takes a local class every other semester just for fun. subjects like art history or food science, perfect stuff for tidbits and party tricks. you are very busy with your own studies so whenever he has free time, he sits down next to you in the kitchen or on the sofa with his own textbook and dutifully highlights important passages, while you scribble notes in the margins of your own textbook. you pull all-nighters together before big exams and read each other’s flash cards. he’s memorised your takeout orders and makes sure to keep you both fed.
- you both thoroughly unwind after, of course. at a point you’re so mentally exhausted that you just need to let loose and not think for a while. kyle obliges when you not so subtly slide your foot up his calf under the table.
… johnny
- enables you. johnny can’t sit still for more than a minute without anything to do, and being his significant other you sadly are the victim of his excessive energy. some days it’s enough to put on an action movie in the sitting room while you hide out upstairs or send him over to kyle’s for whatever they do together. other days you need to sternly send him for a run that lasts at least three hours, knowing it will knock him out after, giving you a combined four or five undisturbed hours of study time. occasionally you throw one of your theses or problems at him to get him to focus on something other than you, and if it’s within his field of interest he will fall quiet next to you and end up writing two or three pages explaining his own reasoning, citations and all.
- will always try to coax you to leave your books and come join him in the bedroom or shower. always nags that restitution is as important as the work in itself and won’t listen when you tell him it doesn’t work that way with studying. sometimes sneaks in between your legs under the table and laps at you until mess up your handwriting.
… simon
- tutors you. whatever it is you study, simon will become an expert in it by the time you’re ready to graduate. he gets copies of your textbooks and reads and annotates the same chapters as you do. he listens in on your online lectures and makes his own notes. he does all this partly out of curiosity, but mostly to be of assistance to you. before tests and exams he quizzes you and makes short writing prompts for you, forcing you to think about your material in new ways. date nights often involve flash cards (which tends to become a hilarious exercise after a few glasses of wine). it’s so important to him that you reach your goals, that he will spend hours of his own time to be able to support you as much as possible, in every way he can.
- he has more patience and endurance than you, so when you after six hours of repetition and revising lean back in your seat and lightly run your fingers down his back, he lightly swats your hand away and reminds you of the problem you haven’t answered yet. but after a little convincing, even he can’t resist your gentle request for long.
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alotofpockets · 7 months ago
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Close call | Lia Wälti x Arsenal!Reader
Where your girlfriend falls to the ground with a possible head injury
And ofc a happy birthday to our Wally!
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k
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“And this is why we always make fun of Wally.” Kyra points the camera to Lia, who proudly lifts up her boots and the blow dryer she’s using on them. “Blow drying her shoes, who even does that?” You watched Lia with nothing but love in your eyes, and are so focussed on your girlfriend’s proud smile, that you don’t notice the camera being in your face. “And here we have her love sick girlfriend.” You look over and are faced with the camera on your face and a smirking Kyra behind it. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you push your hand in front of the camera. 
“Are you done?” You joke as you retreat your hand when you notice that she has stopped filming. Kyra’s annoying little sister act was well known amongst the team and the fans, the vibe had grown on you as did Kyra.
“Yeah, this is perfect.” She says proudly after rewatching what she had just filmed. “Aaaaand posted.” With a shake of your head you sit down in your cubby next to Lia again, sharing a knowing look about the youngsters' antics, and the many comments you would get on your relationship later today. 
Before you start your warm up, you and Lia do your little pre-match routine. Lia loved routines, if you couldn’t tell by the blow-drying her boots, and you had started one together when you first started dating. After the handshake you could do with your eyes closed by now, you take her hand in yours and jump over the sideline of the pitch. After your jumping over the line you head your separate ways for your warm ups. 
The first half had been rather quiet on your end of the field, you made a few saves here and there from corners, but next to that the ball was mostly on the opposing side of the field. Just before halftime Beth was able to hit the ball to the back of the net. Even though as a goalie you couldn’t really join in on the celebrations, you clapped for Beth and raised your hands to get the crowd to cheer louder. 
In the second half it seemed like the opposing team had finally found their footing, as they were advancing more and more on your side of the field, desperately looking for the equalizer. 
It was when your team was playing up a little higher, that the ball was intercepted, and their striker had your team rushing back. Steph, who had made her way up the flank was too far out to make it, so Lia made the sprint back.
You positioned yourself a few steps in front of your goal, anticipating the long shot. But the opposing striker was stopped by your girlfriend throwing her full body down in a slide tackle. She hit nothing but the ball, but the striker wasn’t able to stop her run enough to stop her leg from crashing into Lia’s head. 
The referee had only noticed the clean tackle, and not Lia being hit in the head and focussed back on the ball. The opposing striker had jumped over Lia, trying to get the shot in after getting blocked the first time. 
You tore your eyes off of your girlfriend who was still laying on the ground, and Steph who was running towards her and pointing to her head to signal the referee that the match needed to be stopped, but the referee did not notice yet. 
It took every ounce of willpower you had to focus on the player rushing towards you with the ball instead of your girlfriend having a possible head injury, and you hated every millisecond of it. 
The striker took her shot, and you managed to catch the ball mid air. You immediately pointed Lia out to the referee, and dropped the ball when she finally blew her whistle. While ripping off your gloves, you ran over to your girlfriend. 
Steph was cleaning the pieces of grass that stuck to her forehead off, as she was now laying on her back. You crouched down with her and grasped her hand in yours. “Are you alright?” This had to be one of the scariest moments of your life. Lia on the ground, with her hand massaging the back of her neck, after the hard hit you had witnessed just moments before.
The medics arrived seconds after you did, and you watched with a face full of concern as they did the necessary tests for a head injury.
“She'll be alright.” Steph assured you, before she headed to the sidelines where the rest of the team had gathered for some refreshments, and instructions from the coaching staff. Not you though, you were not going to leave her side until you knew she was doing okay.
When the medics were helping Lia up, your worries finally eased a little bit. The medics went to walk Lia to the side, on orders of the referee to follow the rules, but before Lia let herself get walked to the sidelines, she stopped to hug you. “I’m okay, you can stop worrying.”
You squeeze her tight, needing to feel her close to convince your brain that she was really okay. “Don't ever scare me like that again.” You whisper into her ear, giving her a final squeeze, before letting her walk off to the sidelines.
As you walked back to your goal, you shook out the worries that were still left in your body despite Lia’s reassurances. You watched her closely as the players made their way back to their positions on the field, and had to tear your eyes away when the referee blew the whistle again for play to continue.
Minutes later Lia walked onto the field again, joining back in play. Your eyes stayed on her for most of the remaining minutes of the match, making sure nothing seemed off in her movements. Lia showed no signs of just being kicked in the head though, as she was running around on the field again.
When the final whistle blew, and you managed to hold on to the lead, you made a beeline for lia. You pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her up slightly “I’m so glad you’re okay. That was so scary.” 
You hold each other for a moment, before you set her down on the ground again. She smiled at you sweetly, “I’m going to need a lot of cuddles to recover from this.” Your smile grew and you nodded eagerly.
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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
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nyeddleblog · 3 months ago
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A little piece of heaven [Part 5]
Pairing: Wade Wilson x Original Female Character x Logan Howlett. Summary: In Wade's timeline, Iris is his supernice upstairs neighbor. In Wolverine's, she's his beloved dead wife. A/N: This is a Wattpad Fic with an original character of mine that you can find here. Warnings: Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, kinda.
PREVIOUS PART.
Chapter 5: Tension.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. It didn't matter if it was a memory or dream. He saw her. He was haunted by her memory and this aggravating, irresponsable version of her felt like a punishment sent by god. Not only did he have to deal with her last words engraved in the back of his mind, always whispered in his ear, but he also had to manage not to cry whenever Iris did something so particularly Iris. He couldn't ask her no to be her.
Wade insisted on getting to know her better, but Logan didn't know what would be worse, if she was just like her, or if she was nothing like her. So the conflict in his mind was constant.
But, not only was she incredibly unpredictable; her relationship with Wade was puzzling. They were constantly flirting, touching each other, cuddling each other, hanging out, and his advances seemed genuine, yet she had no clue. Logan didn't understand if she was playing dumb, or if she was actually that fucking dumb.
And he didn't understand Wade's goal either. He would jolt awake at times, and he'd be there, surprisingly gentle with his soothing touch and his annoying, yet comforting jokes, like some anchor he rarely found in his past life.
Logan felt like an outsider then, sitting next to Wade in the couch. He saw Iris rest her head on Wade's knee, her hands tracing the test she was grading. It was the last one, then she'd take a shower and the three of them would go out to the shitty bar he'd been going to every night for the past week. He didn't truly know if he was okay with that.
"...And, another kid who's actually listening to me" she muttered triumphantly, leaving the tests with the rest of the pile. She stood up and offered them both a cute smile, "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to keep my job if they smell what I've been smoking, so can you guys keep the windows open while I get ready?"
Iris didn't wait for an answer, she left straight for a shower. An eerie silence invaded the room, tension building between them. He could feel Wade's eyes fixed on his hands, then on his tense shoulders and slowly rising up to his eyes.
"All good in that sick mind of yours, big guy?"
Logan let out something akin to a 'yes', avoiding his friend's eyes. He knew Wade knew it was a lie, but then again, they didn't become friends because he was one to open up. His gaze lowered, fixed on the red stain on one of the kid's tests, "Does she always drink and smoke when she works?"
He was judging her, that much was clear. Wade knew that Logan hadn't stopped comparing Iris to his dead wife since the very moment they met, so he just shrugged, "Wouldn't you if you had to bring work home every weekend?"
In Wade's defense, he wasn't told that the Iris he knew and Logan's late wife were the same person, he followed the clues himself. It wasn't like Wolvie would tell him his whole love story, or be very detailed about her character. He more or less told him her name and that she died in his arms. Wade figured it had to be his neighbor because she was obsessed with Logan before she even met him, and therefore he felt he owed no explanation.
"Relax, peanut. It's just a little weed and wine..." he shrugged, holding his hand out to point at the table "It's not like she doesn't give a fuck about them! She's been on this all day for a reason!"
Logan didn't respond, his gaze still fixed on the red stain. He was still trying to keep his mouth out of snapping at him, or worse, out of agreeing. But Wade cared, he clearly did. He cared about her and he cared so much about him. Too much.
"You know, Luna Lovegood over there is actually really good at what she does..." he continued to defend her, "I mean, she's a bit of a space cadet, and I barely understand what she's talking about or why she uses the worst colors in existence, but she loves those kids, you know?" he then looked at the door and back at the grade, "In a totally admirable, non-creepy way..."
Logan finally didn't avoid his gaze, but stared right back. Wade opened his mouth to say something else, but he stopped himself when he realized that under all that annoyance, Logan didn't seem as opposed to his words as he usually was.
His eyes rebelled with a defiant glint and slowly traveled towards his mouth. The silence became suffocating then, specially for Wade who didn't know if this was actually happening and was fighting the urges to joke about it with all his might.
Finally, Logan spoke, his voice low and rough, "Maybe she's not so bad."
Wade's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable. This was new territory for both of them, "I think... I think there's precum running down my leg..."
TAGLIST: @l3xi3luv @sagemastah @leobabbyyy if you want in or out of the taglist, let me know<3
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velvrei · 1 year ago
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get to work
pairing : barry (obx) x reader
summary : rafe gets grounded but is in need of his supply, so he sends y/n to get his stuff for him.
warnings : smut, switch!barry (mostly sub), finger sucking, mentions of oral (f receiving)
a/n: this is from my ao3 a while ago so it’s kinda cringe my apologies in advance
nsfw below the cut .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
It was all so unexpected.
You met Barry through your childhood best friend, Rafe Cameron. He was trapped inside his house because Ward grounded him, which meant he had no way to get his supply. You, being the sweet angel you were, offered to get it for him and drop it off in a disguise to his home. What would Rafe do without you?
You wanted Barry as soon as you laid eyes on him. You couldn’t stand another restless second without his skin on yours, you made it your goal to make that happen by the end of the month. That’s how desperate you were.
Yes, it may seem absurd to obsess over a man you rarely know, but that day when you went to get Rafe’s supply, something sparked. He had a delicious sliver of lust in his eye, and when he first spoke it took him a minute to process what was happening.
Your boots scrapped along the dark pavement as you approached his apparent trailer. Rafe somehow bribed you into stopping by his drug dealer’s place to pick up his shit, a butterfly formed in your stomach at each breath and step you took.
You knocked on the door frame, no door, huh. “Hello?” You saw a man with a faint mustache sitting on a grey couch reading some book, but he sat up from his slouch as he heard a feminine voice.
“Can I help you?” He asked, throwing a tiny bookmark into whatever the hell he was reading as his gorgeous eyes shot to yours.
“Yeah, actually, I’m here to pick up Rafe’s shit. That cheeky bastard got himself grounded, he can’t leave the house until further notice and he really needs his shit or he’ll lose it.” You explained. He motioned for you to sit down in the space across from him and you did just that.
He raised an eyebrow, slightly tilting his head, “How I know you ain’t lying, missy?” He teased, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. You smirked, “Cause I’m paying for it, mister. I can also call Rafe if that’s necessary.”
His eyes achingly traced your body. “Oh, you came prepared. I like you already. Does that mean you’ll be coming here more often? ‘Cause I’d love to see your pretty face come back at least a couple times a week.” His words made your abdomen ache.
“Maybe I will. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
And now somehow you were here, after at least seven more encounters with that filthy hot man, stood outside of his lounging space, except this time Rafe didn’t need anything, this time is was all you.
When you walked through the doorway and Barry heard your footsteps, he smiled, looking up and pausing his book as he had many times before. “Didn’t I just give you Rafe’s shit yesterday? What brings you back here, baby?”
You tried your hardest not to jump to his arms at that. “You.” You stated. He appeared to be taken aback by your sentence, but when he composed it fully he seemed to be open to it. “What do you mean, me? Like you-”
“I want you Barry. I need you. I got to have you.” You confessed. Your words made his pants tighten. “Oh yeah? You really need me that bad, huh?” He taunted, his face inches away from yours as his eyes scanned your prepossessing figure.
“I do, yes. How can I ever get what I want?” You asked, playing along. He smirked, his hands finding place on your waist. “I think I have a way,” He smiled, pushing you onto the couch he was just sitting in them crawling onto his knees.
“Oh?” You sassed. You slowly undressed yourself, each second he wasn’t touching you drove him crazy. He mumbled, “Hurry up.” You stared, “What was that?” You questioned. He looked up at you impatiently, his eyes had that same sparkle from the other day. “Nothing, I’m sorry.” Sorry? Where did this come from?
Once you were fully undressed, his face lightened at the sight in front of him. Your index finger glistened your slick, you lifted his chin upwards, eye contact remaining as his plump lips wrapped around your digit.
“Sorry? Where did that come from, my love?” He trembled at the pet name, swirling his tongue around your finger. You waited a couple seconds before trying your sweet talk again, “You’re listening so well, honey,” You praised. He just sighed around your finger.
“You like that? You like when I praise you, huh, Barry?” He slowly nodded, a mischievous grin forming on your face. You pulled your finger out of his mouth. His hand came up to stop you, he brought your hand back, lightly kissing the top of it. You shivered, “God, Barry, either I’m mistaken or you like to be dommed.”
He gently let go of your hand, “I do, by pretty women like you,” He answered, smirking. That was simply all it took, that was all you needed to continue. “Well, honey, you better get to work, then.”
Your hands gently tugged on his ponytail holder which had almost fallen out. Your hands wrapped around his luscious curls, redoing his ponytail as you directed Barry’s head toward your womanhood.
He gave you a sly grin, then began his assault on your cunt.
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auroragehenna · 1 year ago
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Ai-less Whumptober
Day 29 („The easy or the hard or the hard way.“)
CW/TW: Creepy/intimate whumper, non-con touch, hair brushing, defiant whumpee
Word count: ?
„Just let me brush it.“, Adam sighed, rolling his eyes.“
„Absolutely not! I am not letting you near my hair! You’re just gonna do something…bad.“
„I am not. Honestly. Come on.“
„How could I possibly trust you?“
„You don‘t really have a choice. Now what is it gonna be, hm? The easy or the hard way?“
Lyra tensed up at the trigger but then forced herself to calm down again at the last sentence. She sighs. Then gives Adam a half-smile. „You should know the answer to that one by now.“
„I do. But I am giving you the chance here to do yourself a favour, Lyra.“
„I.Can‘t.“, she replies with emphasis.
„You won‘t even try.“
„We both know that’s wrong…“, Lyra says silently.
Adam looks confused for a moment before a grin flashes over his face. Just for a moment. „Oh yeah, right. I nearly forgot about that.“
„Well then you‘re lucky. I‘ve been trying, doesn’t really work.“
„So if you‘ve done it before, you can do it again, right?“
„Adam…Just…No. What even is your goal right now?“
„My goal is to brush your hair. Now, one last time. The easy or the hard way?!“
„Try me Beyonce.“, Lyra answered and regret filled every nerve in her body but she couldn’t just play along.“
„Fine.“, Adam said and pulled our a taser. He started advancing towards her and as soon as she finally tired herself out he cornered her. „Now, I didn‘t wanna do this but you just had to go there.“ He shot the taser forward and got Lyra‘s right arm. She twitched and nearly collapsed to the ground if she hadn‘t been holding on to one of the pool lamps. Adam sneaked an arm around her waist and pulled her away and down until her shaky legs gave out under her. Once her had her sitting between his legs he bound her still weakly twitching arms and hands to her torso. He laid his head on her shoulder. „There you go, see, that wasn‘t so hard, right?“
„Fuck you.“, Lyra replied angrily and did her best not to squirm against the restraints. She tensed up, breath hitching when Adam touched her shower damp hair but after a short moment it really seemed like he was just brushing it. But she didn‘t trust him and couldn‘t relax throughout the whole thing, no matter how gentle and comforting the touch was.
Adam carded his fingers through a few strands of Lyra‘s hair, relishing in how it made her shiver. He could practically see how much she wanted to just lean into the touch and how much she didn‘t trust him. He took his time, really brushing out all the knots and fixing her hairline the way she liked it. Making it take as long as possible and loving the way she tensed at every move he made.
Finally, after what felt like eons the movement of the comb stopped. Adam‘s hand ever so gently carded through her hair a few more times before he was apparently satisfied. But then she got grabbed by her shoulders and turned around to face her tormentor.
„Now, isn‘t this much better?“, he asked holding up a few strands of Lyra‘s hair for her to see. It did look and feel much better. But she still only looked at him angrily. The touch, as gentle as it may have been and as touch-starved as she might be, had felt invasive. Touching one of the few, one of the only things that had been semi-safe and semi-still her‘s in this messed up life.
„I asked you a question.“, Adam said threateningly, snapping his fingers in front of Lyra‘s face. She flinched and wide eyes met his. „Answer. My question.“
Lyra grit her teeth in anger and fear all the same before pressing out: „It does feel better in a some ways, yes. Thank you.“
„You very welcome. Don‘t doubt me next time.“ And with that he got up and left. Grinning as no reaction came from Lyra. She was too proud to ask him if and why he wasn‘t going to untie her again for the night. And with that she would deprive herself of a lot of good rest and coping. Leaving her more vulnerable and weak tomorrow, which was nothing but good for him. He shoved the curtain aside and entered the shower and changing areas to get some rest himself. He groaned as he stretched out on the mattresses. Still it was exhausting that she could never. not make it difficult. Downright infuriating. No matter, he would break her eventually. He already did once before after all. Some time ago.“
Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, @ailesswhumptober
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wellhalesbells · 7 months ago
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Hi! This is inspired by your reblog of the talk shop tuesday post -- do you have any secret-until-now fanworks you're working on that you want to talk about? any ideas that have been percolating and you want to share?
I think - because I've started doing WiP Wednesday with ... some (not a lot, haha) of regularity that there's very few things that I'm actively working on right now that I haven't talked about to some extent but I have no problem gathering them all here. I have five fics that I'm noodling on at the moment.
How to Breathe 101. I've probably talked about this one the most because it is absolutely the closest to finished. I have random snippets all over the place on my tumblr that I've collected here: 1 2 3 4. And it comes from my love of the dynamic of Character A falls first, Character B falls harder as well as giving Derek the time and space to work out his trauma and form relationships beyond romantic ones.
Heartbeat Hustle. This was such a nothing idea that I kind of just farted around on because I wasn't feeling adding a hundred words (my daily word count goal) to any of the things that I was already working on and I came up with this: here. And it's another one I just keep randomly chipping away at. The basic premise is Derek finally hears Stiles' heartbeat at rest around him and it becomes the background noise of his entire universe without realizing it because it's just such a comforting sound for him.
PvW, Chapter 3. Yes, I'm working on it. Slowly, but I am. Chapter 3 of Prostitute vs Werewolf. (1 and 2 here). I'm still hoping it'll end at Chapter 6. I... sort of have a plan here, lol.
Steter Hanahaki. I accidented myself into this fic, which I posted about: here. Sometimes I like to just search tags on AO3 rather than fandoms and all the most popular Teen Wolf ones for Peter and Stiles that I came across were, well.... not the fun way and I have unfortunately kept chipping away at this even though writing Peter (and it is from his PoV, ugh) is such a hard thing for me to do!
Sciles, Slow Burn, Codependency Fic. I don't really know where this one came from but I think, pretty unsurprisingly, being ace, I like when friendships are the be all and end all for people and I also like when they sort of just slide into.... oops, somehow you're my whole world. And since I haven't posted anything about this one yet and it is my second longest fic on here at the moment, here's a snippet:
It’s an almost-casual college girlfriend who alerts Stiles to exactly the level of codependence he’s now sporting with Scott.  She laughs and clarifies to an acquaintance that the ‘casual’ is at her insistence and the ‘almost’ is at Scott’s.  The follow-up, the ‘why’ is nothing more than a pointed look in Stiles’ direction. Stiles feigns offense, lazily twirls a less-than-dextrous pointer finger back towards his own chest.  Perks an eyebrow.  “Moi?” She grins widely and Stiles senses a sharpness to it that’s likely fueled more by the fewer inhibitions everyone at this party is collectively experiencing, rather than true ill will.  He hopes anyway and, not to brag, but he has gotten pretty good at knowing when things want him dead. Scott chooses that moment to saunter over and instead of perching on the arm of her chair or sliding onto the large cushion of the recliner with her, he bumbles into Stiles, an arm falling around his shoulder as he pushes his drink into his hand so he can set down a plate of steaming nachos on the table in front of them. He’s a warm, familiar weight and only after he’s leaned the whole of himself into Stiles’ side does Stiles realize, if he’d planned this in advance, no part of him would’ve expected Scott to sit anywhere but exactly where he did. Stiles holds Scott’s beer and Scott scrubs a hand over Stiles’ buzzcut, frowns as he peers at Stiles’ expression.  He’s not sure what his face is doing but it prompts Scott to say, “All good?” Stiles blinks.  Swallows.  “Yeah, all’s peachy keen over in this here neck of the woods.” Scott smiles and, as though ‘neck’ was some cue word, he leans over and buries his nose in the crease between neck and shoulder, breathing deeply, and yeah, okay, they’re basically dating.  Stiles can see that but.  You know.  They’ve nearly died how many times between the years of sixteen and nineteen?  They’re entitled to be grotesquely into each other as far as he’s concerned. Maybe they’ve gotten a little worse after the nogitsune.  And the siren that nearly drowned Scott.  And the Lamia that ripped open Stiles’ torso last year.  It’s not unusual for them to fall asleep in the same bed or press lingering kisses to each other’s foreheads, cheeks, necks, but Stiles is pretty sure Scott’s one hundred percent into vagina and, while Stiles’ appetites are more varied, he’s not super interested in Scott’s dick. He’s just interested in Scott, really.  All of Scott, however much of Scott that Scott would like him to be interested in basically.  And since that doesn’t include his dick… that doesn’t include his dick.
Thank you so much for the ask and the interest! <3
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enaelyork · 2 years ago
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BLUE - A Thrawn x F!Oc (reader) Fanfic [Part 3 - Game]
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Agent E. Tarkin X Grand Admiral Thrawn
[+18 ONLY]
A lot of TW English is not my native speak
--
Chap prompt :
It's time to play a game with the Grand Admiral. But Thrawn always win.
For the first post click here
3. Thrawn
��� I sincerely apologize for all this mess, this kind of thing does not happen frequently here, I guarantee it. Damn, what's gotten into them?
Tarkin
I barely listen to Yularen's apologies, deep in thought. Obviously. Her resemblance to the moff struck me the moment I saw her. And the residue of doubt that remained had been swept away later that evening, when she delivered her chaotic speech to the attention of the bride to the wrath of her father and boyfriend.
Her boyfriend who has just left the room with his tail between his legs, his eyes full of resentment, curiously filling my being with a delicious satisfaction. Either that or I would rip his grades off him, there were way too many for my liking for such a crass character.
—Grand Admiral? Can we pick up where we left off?
—I will, but before that, I would like to discuss the Tarkin daughter.
Yularen raises his bushy eyebrows and I guess behind his generous mustache that he would be ready to talk to me about any other subject than that.
—The bride ?
— No, Colonel. The other. Don't pretend to misunderstand.
The other who is just staring at me like an animal about to leap through the window overlooking the outside courtyard. The future recruits of the ISB are agitated around her and if they want to make a mistake without being detected, it is the opportune moment to take advantage of the situation.
What's worse is that I'm just as absorbed as she is in this mutual contemplation.
—There is nothing more to say than what you have seen, Grand Admiral. She shines with her rather sulphurous temperament.
Sulphurous, that's a very ironic word to describe the coldness of the look she gives me.
—I noticed. I struggle to keep my lips from sketching a carnivorous smile, rehashing the prank from earlier. I admit I enjoyed the way she advanced her pawns as a most inventive military tactic. Pushing your opponent to confess his wrongs rather than accusing him always puts us in a situation of strength and Tarkin understands this.
—And what about her other assignments?
There are questions not to ask and I have always been particularly adept at doing so despite everything. My own experience within the academy has revealed this skill. Yularen freezes, sits next to me, puts his hands on the table, and stares at me as if I've just revealed my rebel allegiance to him.
—There is nothing to say about it.
—Oh, please. It would be a crime to spoil such a sulphurous character.
My caustic smile wipes his suspicious gaze. I can easily guess that the Tarkin case is a taboo subject for the director of the ISB, which confirms my suspicions: she is not only here to teach the soldiers how to shoot. She is stubborn and probably out of control, but if Yularen keeps her so close to him it is because she has skills far beyond what she shows.
—Are you there for her?" There is a hint of accusation in his remarks. I lean against the back of my chair, tying my fingers together smugly, trying not to show my acting too quickly.
— No, Colonel. I'm here to talk about StarStorm Agent and the Phantom Unit.
He sniffles loudly. Hoping his annoyance dissuades me from broaching his subjects as well.
—How did you know of its existence?
Obviously, the colonel is upset to learn that he is not the only one who knows everything.
—I made great use of the data transmitted by Agent StarStorm in my last hunt for smugglers. His help was decisive in intercepting the fugitive in question, I would like to thank him.
And engage it too. But I'm not sure Yularen would give me such a valuable unit so easily. Yet I have good reason to believe that Agent StarStorm and I share a common goal, and not just when it comes to smuggling. A common objective to flush out in the darkest corners of our prestigious empire.
— The Phantom Unit never shows up with its face uncovered.
— I agree. What could be more normal for the galaxy's most hated unit ? Hidden behind pseudonyms, they can act as they see fit both outside and within our ranks. The empire monitored from within by his fellows, up to the highest of the hierarchy, a Machiavellian idea, particularly ingenious, even formidable.
And definitly very useful.
—I wish I could leverage your leverage to have a talk with the agent.
—His mission on Coruscant is taking up all of his time, Admiral, and I'm not sure he'd be willing to meet you. I nod wordlessly, a weary smile forming on my lips.
— Was it your idea?
I watch him hesitate for a moment before getting up and turning on his heels to approach the bay window in front of us. Gathering his hands behind his back, Yularen heaves a resigned sigh.
—I would like to pretend, but the creation of this unit is not my responsibility.
— Who ? My gaze meets his through the bay window, on the brunette figure of the instructor who stares thoughtfully into space before being overtaken by the uniform of an admiral. The man draws her to him by catching her by the hand, dragging her in his wake after having whispered a few words in her ear. Yularen will not answer this question, nor any questions about unity. The debate is closed.
—Then, as a consolation, may I speak with Agent Tarkin?
His reaction is so abrupt that he almost falls backwards.
—Speak with Tarkin? For what ? There is no connection between her and the Phantom unit.
— Funny that you make this connection, it was not my intention to link these two subjects, but since we are there.
Hit hard, Yularen adjusts the collar of his uniform and knowingly avoids my gaze. It will be difficult for him to dodge the traps I set for him, but he brushes my remark aside.
—I know where you're coming from, Thrawn, but I assure you that Agent Tarkin is not involved in this. She is part of the ISB and is nothing more than an agent at my service.
No. It's more than that, at least in his eyes. I guess there is much more than a professional relationship between them. Would he have become attached to the Moff's daughter to the point of considering her his own? In this case, I will have to redouble my efforts and intelligence to achieve my goals.
— Well, it is as a simple agent of the ISB that I wish to use his services. You know that I am currently involved in a most curious smuggling case and that the danger does not only weigh on the planets of the surrounding systems. They are also striking on Coruscant and it is only a matter of time before the plague spreads through the heart of the empire. It's a complex business that requires determined temperaments and from what little I've seen, Tarkin is the perfect candidate.
We sound each other in silence for only a few seconds, this tiny lapse of time when Yularen sweats worry and doubt. He's probably wondering if he's ready to throw his little protect to the Seventh Fleet and the ruthless world the Emperor has sent me to subdue.
—You seem worried for her.
—She's one of my best agent. He pauses, takes a deep breath and continues. And above all, I forbid you to tell her. It is already not easy to keep this crazy horse in the ranks, it should not be encouraged by a bit of confidence.
—It will be our little secret. I will see to her safety if that can convince you to leave her to me.
—It's not me you'll have to convince, but her.
A nervous chuckle escapes me and my legs cross under the desk.
—If I can meet her now, I can be convincing.
Yularen then laughs with a thunderous laugh that makes the walls shake, placing a warm hand on my shoulder before presenting himself in front of the door.
—To meet her ? Ha! Grand Admiral, we don't meet Eléanore Tarkin, we confront her!
***
When she joins me in the office, closely followed by Yularen, something changes in her expression, a detail that upsets her earlier confidence.
Would I have upset her?
Her cold eyes meet mine. Tarkin has nothing to envy to her father's coldness or severity. These emaciated features make her particularly hard, emphasizing the angular edges of her jawline. Her hair brushing the birth of her neck undulates in a mixture of brown and ash which makes her whole attitude more dark.
What a curious person.
It often happens that I remain contemplative in the face of pretty things. Art in all its forms is a field that takes many unexpected turns and I am particularly sensitive to it. There is nothing better than contemplating art to realize the relativity of things and our sensitivity and that is what I think of when observing it. Tarkin is far from the image of the many masterpieces that I have come across in my life and would not win the unanimity of a jury, but she remains fascinating nonetheless.
When Yularen officially introduces us, I reach out my hand in her direction and only receive a motionless wall whose ocean orbs deviate towards my invitation, throwing all the contempt they can contain at her.
— What do you want ? She settles in without further ado, her fingers praying on the edge of the table, no doubt hoping that this interview will not drag on. I fully appreciate the ink that covers her hands, as long as the drawings slip under the fabric of her sleeves. At the same time, Yularen gives me a jaded look.
—Don't pay attention. It's a typical bullying tactic on his part.
— Have no fear, I notice her parades.
—Believe me, no one here is worth showing off.
Exasperated, she looks at me as if the uniform I'm wearing was a vulgar servant's outfit. Arrogance is definitely a family trait.
—Your genetic heritage betrays you, Tarkin.
—If you know my family reputation, you better cut it short, I am the least patient of all.
—Tarkin. Yularen gasps at the end of his tether. Can you…
—Tututu is between the big all-blue guy and me, okay? You are just there for form.
The big all blue? I almost want to laugh, outraged by such insolence towards me and Yularen.
—He's your boss.
— That remains to be seen. Everything will depend on what you have to say to me and on the trap you are trying to set for me, both.
She laughs at us. That's what Yularen's eyes looking up at the ceiling and his loud breathing are trying to tell me. If she continues like this, she will have the death of this old man on her conscience much faster than she imagines.
I show him my datapad with the content I want to submit.
—As you know, the Seventh Fleet is currently operating in Lothal.
—I don't go to Lothal anymore. Arindha Pryce and I are not friends. No wonder when you know them both. Pryce is probably the antithesis of this cheeky.
—But you work on Coruscant.
— ICourse. 'There's a dubious affair at the moment that I want to get to the bottom of and which seems to be linked to the smuggling of contraband on Lothal. I nod dismissively at the datapad. Everything is there. Data concerning an organization – pirate or rebel – which brings together individuals from all over the galaxy. The correlation with strange disappearances within our own troops not being to be left to chance, I add this detail to the presentation already present in the file.
—Agent StarStorm has also found that pirate frequencies are rampant on the holovid networks and they are likely communicating through them. As to whether...
—I'm not sure to understand. If the StarStorm agent is on the spot, there is no point in rounding up the whole ISB.
She looks at me, her eyes half-closed, the suspicious expression that takes shape on her delicate features tells me that she is not fooled. We are indeed not here to discuss only this matter.
— I'm not talking about the whole ISB, but just about you and…
—No. I will not join the Seventh Fleet to settle your petty stories of bribery and piracy. Let the Phantom unit take care of that. I have things to do here, and I'm getting married in a month.
That's when I really notice the ring around her finger. This reality takes on a different consistency and reminds me of her closeness to Admiral Spencer. So he's not just her boyfriend?
—I suppose I should congratulate you?
A brief purse of the lip betrays his annoyance.
—Or be quiet if you like, I don’t care.
—You should consider my proposal.
—I thought about it for more than a minute, it's enough to refuse, even if you gave me the order.
—I will do more than that…
From inside my jacket, I pull out a piece of paper folded in four and lay it on the table. Yularen immediately understands that bringing Tarkin back with me has always been the main objective of my visit and no doubt scrolls through his mind a multitude of options to put me to death. As for Tarkin, she remains impassive before grabbing the paper and gently unfolding it. The impact is approaching and I relish it in advance, watching her blue eyes circled in a shade of lagoon green congeal with fear and her cheeks turn a forbidden red.
—A requisition?
—Nice reading, Tarkin. -
—You are completely insane!
—I'm a Grand Admiral, have some respect.
Her distress is almost funny and I struggle not to taunt her with a triumphant smile. I sincerely thought I had won the battle by presenting her with a requisition that no soldier could have countered. But I forgot that Tarkin was not afraid of dying and that she was particularly fond of teasing the hierarchy.
Fueled by her aggressiveness and a certain madness, she applied herself to shredding every bit of the sheet without taking her eyes off me. A kind of fierce confrontation that none of us really wanted to get out of.
—You can't apply a requisition that doesn't exist, can you?
— One way or another, it's.
And she doesn't answer, contenting herself with blowing in my face the scraps of paper she was holding in her hands under Yularen's mad gaze. Impassive, I blink taunting her without expressing the slightest emotion about her.
It's time for Lieutenant Tarkin to find out who's in charge here and I intend to be the one to bring her down.
—Sorry you took it like that, Lieutenant. It seemed to me that I had done you a favour.
— A favor ? She repeats in a voice tinged with surprise and angst. The only favor you could do me is to leave me alone, Grand Admiral.
—I have a recruit to assess. It would be very upsetting if I could not do so due to an unfortunate setback.
I love seeing that gleam of rage in the back of her eyes, it's like she's silently insulting me. We are going to make a hell of a team, together, there's no doubt.
—It's not the norm to blackmail things you agree to beforehand
—It's just a matter of perspective. I see that as more of a negotiation. —Then you are a very bad politician.
—I am a soldier, not a politician.
And she is silent, not knowing what to answer and I would have to gain an additional rank for having managed to silence her.
— Rule number 1: I always win. No matter how long it must take me.
Nothing but her exists in this room. Her and the angry look she gives me, the distinguished way of bringing her fingers in front of her thin lips, the disdainful fluttering of her eyelashes when she looks away from her superior. Yularen fumes, huffs loudly, and probably tries to find a way to keep me away from her charge, but it's too late.
The games are already done.
— Good. I imagine that I would be quite disloyal in going back on this tacit agreement. She hisses bitterly. But I intend to come back here in a month.
—I suppose I can grant you that permission.
—And I would also like something else…
Tarkin hasn't said her last word, she hums her last remark like a fatal melody and my neck cracks under the tension that settles there.
— I find you very hard, but go ahead.
—I want someone to come with me. We'll have our work cut out if what's on your datapad is correct.
The colonel's eyes widen in surprise, and he nods his head, urging me to accept.
—And who would you like to take in your suitcases?
— Archibald Lewis.
Lewis, the man I'm supposed to assess in less than two hours. The success of which will depend on my judgment and from which Tarkin's departure will then follow.
Checkmate.
—Rule number two, Grand Admiral Thrawn, I am a Tarkin, and within me flows a poison far more dangerous than your military intelligence: Trickery.
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potetosaradas · 2 years ago
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sooo ive been posting a lot of sweet domestic prickcest. buT NOW its time to bring back some of the angst!!!! Summary: The night before the wedding Rating: T Pairing: prickcest
Prime paced around his room angrily, taking his mood out on the minimal furniture he had. He spied an empty glass bottle on the floor that he’d drained the night before and without thinking, he hurled it at the wall. The sound of glass shattering loudly gave him a millisecond of satisfaction before his black mood came back.
“Fuck!”
He circled the room once more like a caged wolf before sitting down on his bed, head cradled in his hands, remembering the conversation he had with Rick the night before. 
“So there’s a rumor that there’s a mine full of living metal on Fr’xia 10, wanna go check it out tomorrow? I heard it goes for at least 1000 Flurbos per every 10 grams on the black market.” 
“I can’t.” Rick turned away, pulling his shirt down as he made to sit up. 
“Why the fuck not?” Prime mirrored his actions, “What else have you got going on that’s more important?”
Rick was silent, picking at his sleeves and Prime suddenly felt a spike of concern and anxiety at Rick’s behavior. It wasn’t like him to be so cagey. There were no secrets between them and Rick was hiding something from him. Prime didn’t like that at all.
“You’re hiding something from me.” He said accusingly.
“I’m not-- I swear.” Rick swallowed, “You… you told me not to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” 
“You know-- about wedding stuff…”
Instantly, Prime crossed his arms and pressed his lips together. Damn. That’s right. He had told Rick to never ever bring up that shit in front of him. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he watched his lover made in his image twist his hands together. 
“So what, go get your suit fitted, try some cake then let’s go to Fr’xia.”
“I can’t.” Rick said emphatically standing up. “I told you.”
“How long does it take to send out a few wedding invitations and eat some cake, geez.” 
“We’re past that.” Rick said coldly, slipping his lab coat on. “You’d know that if you showed any interest in my life. But for your— for your information the wedding is tomorrow. That’s why I can’t go with you.”
“Tomorrow?!” Panic and insurmountable rage flooded through Prime’s body and he saw nothing but red. He’d been avoiding dealing with Rick’s wedding, hoping somehow that the affair would blow over. There was some foolish, wishful thinking on his part that made him believe that the day would never come. It had seemed like forever ago when Rick had broken the news to him and the thought of Rick slipping away from him made him want to eat glass. 
In all honesty, Prime hadn’t really given Diane much thought at all. In all realities she was nothing but a simple, stupid woman who had no scientific inclination or achievement. Her only goal was to settle down and be a doting housewife. Living by the handbook of the All American Dream. He honestly believed that Rick would come round, see the obvious truth and incompatibility, own up to his idiocy and then… maybe they’d continue their adventures uninterrupted and continue making scientific advancements… help each other scheme and maybe take over the universe… Prime couldn’t believe that Rick was still going through with this farce. Rick was a smart guy, how was this even a topic of debate? The genuine gleam in his eye when they discovered a new planet or the laughter they shared over the silliest realities, figuring out the extent of the multiverse and debating on theories, Prime knew that Rick would be walking away from all of that and that it would destroy him. He knew what it was like to be the smartest person in the room, all Ricks did. To put oneself back into such a lonely existence was mind boggling. But most importantly, Rick would be walking away from him and Prime couldn’t understand it. 
Over the past year, Prime had doubled down on his efforts to take Rick out into interstellar. Mainly to have him spend as less time as possible with the Bitch but also to prove to Rick what he’d be missing out on. He almost thought he’d succeeded too. I mean, they were still fucking right? Even though he had a fiancée. Prime thought that Rick had been waiting for an opportunity to leave amicably and he hadn’t pushed it, wanting Rick to come to that conclusion himself, knowing that if he had insisted on the breakup, it would do nothing but push Rick in that direction. It was clear to Prime that he’d made an incorrect estimation and that he should have worked on breaking up the relationship sooner if only to save Rick from himself. 
He narrowed his eyes as Rick found his shoes, slipping them on. Prime struggled against two emotions, panic that the love of his life seemed to be walking away from him with no promise of return and rage that Rick was willingly subjecting himself to a lifetime of mudanity. It made no sense to him whatsoever. Rick had the potential to be great and this woman was only dragging him down. He hated her. 
“You— you’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” Prime felt himself shake with contempt  as he let Rick have his thoughts. He’d always been very clear about his distaste in Rick’s choices but he’d never really told Rick about how he really felt. Now, as Rick furthered the rift between them, he couldn’t stop the vitriol that poured from his mouth in his last desperate attempt to make Rick see reason. 
“You-- you call yourself a scientist but you’re just some fuckin’ hack. Do you understand what you’re walking away from? Bro, Ricks don’t pass on this opportunity. You have a chance to do something great, you could be a god if you wanted to. You really gonna throw all of this away for one kid of yours in the multiverse? You know that in the grand scheme of things, none of this matters right? If you can’t see what a huge mistake this is, maybe I overestimated you.” 
Rick didn’t even look at him but Prime saw the way his body stiffened. Good. 
“Excuse me for not taking your marriage seriously when you’re in my bed almost every week. Y-you think you’re so above it all but you— you’re just as shitty as the next asshole. The only difference is that at least an asshole knows their shit stinks. You just led me on for months like the fucking cock tease that you are. F-Fucking slut.”
“Admit it. You can’t live without me. You don’t want to quit this shit. If you did you would have ended this months ago. But you didn’t. I mean, for fuck sake, it’s the night before your wedding and you’re here and not at home. You obviously don’t want to go through with this. You can lie to her but don’t lie to yourself. Namely, me. Because I’m you and you’re me.”
“Are you done?” Rick said quietly. 
“You’re a bigger idiot than I thought. You fucking disgust me. You make me ashamed to even share the same DNA as you. I hope you’re fucking happy choosing a life of mediocrity.”
“I don’t have a choice.” 
And Prime saw the deep pain in Rick’s eyes and it made him feel like he was breaking too. This man was still every bit as conflicted as he was a year ago. Still unable to choose and yet time was unforgiving, pushing Rick closer to a choice he didn’t want to make with every second that ticked by. 
“Do you…” Prime squeezed his hands into fists, “Do you still… love me?”
“Don’t make me answer that. What do either of us have to gain from me answering that question?” Rick pulled out his portal gun and Prime felt an intrusive urge to reach out and break it. Trap him here forever. He felt Rick pull away from him further and there was nothing he could do about it. His words caused the cracks in the rift to widen and they were standing on opposite sides, unable to reconcile. 
Prime clenched his jaws together so hard he thought he might crack a tooth. 
“When are you going to fucking snap out it? You’re a fucking idiot if you go through with this. You could have everything if you stay with me. I don’t get why you would choose to be a fucking nobody after everything we’ve seen together.” 
Prime hated to hear himself beg like this. 
A portal opened up between them, casting a green glow on their miserable faces. 
“Don’t go.” 
“I have to.” Rick touched his arm gently, “I’m sorry.” 
The portal closed. 
Prime felt an inhuman scream burst from his throat and he felt like his chest was being gouged out. 
Prime looked at the shattered glass on his floor from where he broke it minutes ago. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Fuck Rick. He stalked over to his desk and yanked open a drawer, fishing out a small bag of pink powder. His usually steady fingers shook as cut up a line and snorted it. It was more powder than he should have taken but Prime was beyond caring at this point. Everything was pain and pain was everything. Immediately, the effects of the K-Lax had his heart pumping and his cheeks flushed with color as his pupils blew out his blue irises. 
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He threw himself on the bed and inhaled his pillow deeply. He could still smell Rick. He was everywhere. His scent caused Prime to remember the way Rick had thrashed around as Prime nearly broke his back and the mattress a few nights ago. It felt like an eternity since then. Prime felt himself harden with the effects of K-Lax still running rampant through his system and he began rutting against the covers, still burying his face into his pillow, pretending that it was Rick instead. 
There was no relief and satisfaction. Hate, rage and jealousy burned through his body and he didn’t have a single outlet to express it. Prime snatched a bottle up from the floor and drank from it deeply. Even tequila didn’t seem strong enough to dull the fiery temper that he’d been sitting on for hours. Or maybe it had always been there. The one sided argument from last night only seemed to have opened Pandora’s Box. 
As he lay on his bed, sipping from the bottle and marinating in his dark thoughts, an idea came to him. 
He should go to the wedding. 
He should absolutely not go to the wedding. 
It was a great idea. He could see Rick again and bear witness to when one of the greatest men of all time fell victim to planetary mediocrity. 
It was a terrible idea. He should leave Rick alone. For his sake. And his own. 
It could be his last chance to change Rick’s mind. 
Prime sat up and drained the last of the bottle for liquid confidence. Not that he needed any, but it just felt right. One last drink. He grabbed for the half empty pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, lighting one and sucking on the filter hard to boost the inebriation. A white cloud of smoke rushed out of his mouth and Prime contemplated his plan. He had to know if Rick was serious about going through this or not. If there was even a tiny percentage of hesitation, Prime would take him away and save him from himself. 
Someone had to do it.
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hresvelged · 1 year ago
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— twenty eight. a memory that strains a relationship
The palace has been dark ever since she re-emerged. What once were bustling halls now lay nothing but repulsive deeds veiled in secrecy behind crimson curtains. The room she awaits in is seldom used, once occupied by those looking for an audience with the emperor to discuss political and alliance-ship matters. It is the only suitable place to hold the conversation she must force herself to conjure. The other end of the long table feels so far away from where Edelgard herself sits, one leg crossed while her hands remain neatly in her lap. Papers scatter the premise— Notes both herself and Hubert have prepared in advance.
She will walk away from this with the upper hand. Every hand shake, every word exchanged— It is all for the sake of Fódlan's fate.
Her vassal stands to her right, for he is the only one she trusts to be by her side. He's cautioned her— Told her to think over the decision. "I know," she says quietly. "I'm left with no other choice. If we're to keep moving forward, this is only one necessary stepping stone." A stone she will kick aside once she is done with it, hurdling it into the ground and plummeting it into Gronder Field where it belongs. Rather, it is not suitable for Fódlan soil at all.
It will be vanquished in time. For the smiles she can no longer see, for the lives sacrificed for her own— Change is necessary.
As Arundel enters, Edelgard makes it a point to elevate. It is never out of respect, for she has none for someone like that. It is solely for her own benefit. To ally herself with his kind weighs heavy on the soul. It is due to him that her siblings are stolen away and she has become the person she is now— A future weapon able to withstand the power of two crests. The next puppet emperor. A face to follow in her father's failures. When she looks at him, she sees the shell of her Uncle. He bears the same face and build, but it lacks heart. Love. Tenderness. All that is left is a blackened star in plummet. "Uncle," she utters with well-hidden venom.
They share one common goal. Once that is achieved, the proposed alliance will be no more and the start of a second war will further stain her hands.
"Prepared as ever, Edelgard." He smirks. The man (no, monster) closes the door behind him and settles in the seat across of the Imperial Princess. As she returns to her former position, she knows she must be careful. If she does not say the correct words, her plans will fall into ruin. Hubert nudges a document in front of her eyes, urging her along. He always has been able to understand her well.
The words pour out of her mouth as if she has rehearsed it for some time. The Empire has always prided itself on its military strength, surpassing that of its bordering neighbors for a time. Even so, Edelgard cannot accomplish her goals when their troops are not enough compared to those of the Alliance and Kingdom. Their collaboration and the way it has benefit to both parties is a necessary sentence she must utter. Her Uncle looks at her with intent, nodding along in agreement. He is harder to read than before. This is exactly what she has anticipated.
She pushes a map in front of him, circling potential strongholds and routes. What he will never visualize is her true path, diverging from the ovals and check marks only to interfere with unmarked territories. She intends on keeping her trump card until the very end. Or, perhaps he already has an inkling. She won't under-estimate someone so sinister. Arundel places a hand to his chin, interjecting with his own ideals and desires. At least, the ones he dares to proclaim in their presence.
Then, he stands. He takes a step closer towards Edelgard, extending a hand forward. His tall stature towers over the princess's own, eating away at the shadow now hidden from the sun. "Very well. For now, our forces will work together with yours."
When she grips his with her own, she does so with a strong and resilient force. It is a handshake she won't allow him to forget. "Indeed," she replies. "For now."
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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 years ago
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Sampling Bucky Barnes
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Summary:  Bucky always gets what he wants.  That happens to be you.
Words: 1.3k
Warnings:  Rape/non-con elements, dubious consent, smut, predatory behaviour, feeling trapped, stressful situation, dark Bucky, asshole Bucky.
***18+ CONTENT - NO MINORS PLEASE.  DO NOT READ ON IF YOU CAN BE TRIGGERED OR UPSET BY CONTENT DESCRIBED IN THE WARNING ABOVE***
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He fixes you with his gaze. Frustrated that you don’t seem to notice him standing in the doorway to your lab.  He has been there for several minutes, listening to you talk into your Dictaphone about phenomenal results this, and unforeseen advancements that. You’re talking about his blood – he can read his name on the vials in the rack by your microscope.  
It isn’t until he steps fully inside your lab that you notice him and gasp with a start, hand splayed on your chest in shock.  
“Sergeant Barnes.” You sigh, relieved.  Who were you expecting that his presence is a relief? Your racing heart slows as you chew on your bottom lip for a moment.
“Doc.”  Bucky offers you a coy smile.  It’s fake.  He’s far too cocky and too much of an asshole to really feel abashed by his own behaviour. Once upon a time, maybe.  But not now.  Part of the trouble had been reconciling old Bucky with The Winter Soldier. The balance he found works for him but not everyone likes it.  Sam doesn’t like it.
 You don’t know how he crossed the room so quickly but he’s pulling a stool closer as you speak. “Your blood is really quite something.”
He knows.  You’ve told him this before.  It’s not the only thing about him that’s quite something, but you haven’t seen that yet.  He smirks. “Can I see?”
You nod, sliding the wheels of your own chair back into the corner of the C-shaped work space to give him access to your workstation.
The stool scrapes further and his foot is between yours, knocking your legs open enough for him to drop the stool between them and sit.  His side is practically pressed against your front, the heat he radiates penetrates your lab coat.  You swallow dryly and try not to move, your self-assured confidence sapped by his proximity.
He can hear your heart racing again.  You’re so close he can practically feel the air thrumming with the energy of it.  He makes you nervous.  In a good way?  In a bad way? He can’t tell yet, but it doesn’t matter, he always gets what he wants.  He’s had so long a life where he got absolutely nothing he wanted, so now he makes sure he does.  Whatever he wants.  And right now, that’s you.
Bucky knows he has you trapped as he peers into the microscope, watching his cells shift and flex on the slide.  He drops his hand down by his side, draping his forearm over your thigh, his cool metal fingers circling the outside crook of your knee gently.
“Clever girl.”  He remarks, feeling the slight squirm you make when his hand slides a little higher, fingers slipping underneath your skirt at the back of your thigh.  He wishes it was your inner thigh – which would be so much closer to his goal – but his touch is already wreaking havoc with your senses.  “You’ve solved the serum degradation half-life, haven’t you?”
Your mouth opens as if to ask how he could see that just from one glance, but your mouth snaps shut, teeth clacking.  He doesn’t need to look away from the microscope to tell your eyes are wide with the realisation that he had been watching you while you worked.
“So very clever.”
The wheels on your chair slide as he finally turns, his grip on your leg firmer now as he gets impossibly closer, leaning into you, eyes fixed on yours.  He doesn’t miss the rapid drop in your gaze as your eyes flick back up from his mouth.  Were you hoping he would kiss you?  He would, if only to placate you while he does other things to you.
His knees are still between your parted thighs as he slides your skirt up, revealing more skin inch by glorious inch.
“Sergeant…?”  You ask him to stop by trying to push his hands away, but he’s wanted you for a long time.  He’s seen the looks you’ve given him in the past, he’s just been too much in control of himself to act on it.  Now, he doesn’t care.
“I know you want this.” He says, reading the quickening of your pulse and the dilation of your pupils as you watch the slick swipe of his tongue across his lips.
The dilemma that crosses your face is exquisite in its duality.  Yes, you do want him, but you know he’s dangerous, and that scares you. You’re about to decide but Bucky doesn’t wait.  He can’t wait.  If you tell him no, then taking you will get him kicked off the team, pardon revoked, bye bye new life.
His kiss is searing and his hands are in your hair before you can get your own hands up to his chest to stop him.  He groans into your mouth as your jaw slackens and you let him in.  The way you push your hands against his chest in that feeble half-hearted way has him grinning as he devours your mouth.  You respond just as he hoped you would, eager but with feigned protests that really gets his blood pumping.  Who knows what will happen when he loses himself in you.
 Skirt riding up to your waist, panties torn and hanging from your hips in tatters, Bucky dops you on the counter next to the microscope and the vial rack where his name in your handwriting reminds him of all the blood you’d taken from him, all the time he had spent giving you what you wanted, what you needed.  Well, now you were going to give something back to him, by letting him give you something he wants to give you.
Hands on your hips in a bruising grip, he kisses you harshly and slips himself flush between your parted legs, pulling you to the very edge of the worktop.  His kisses are a bit of a distraction, so you don’t see this coming. He wants to hear the noises you make, maybe you’ll scream a little for him.
 You fit him so perfectly when he enters you and slams himself forward until his balls meet the counter.  You gasp and groan, and cling to him as he hooks your knees over his forearms and grips your hips, fucking into you harder and faster.  He doesn’t care of this is good for you but if it is then it’s a bonus –  maybe you’ll come back for more.  Right now, this is just him fucking away his need for you, getting that frustration out. All the times you’ve been cool and dismissive, all the times you’ve given him those eyes but left him without reward for his patience.
Your eyes roll back as he brutally hammers your now swollen red cunt.  He almost laughs that you haven’t noticed he’s not wearing a rubber. He’s definitely going to give you something to remember him by.
Grunting as he thrusts ruthlessly quick, he leans forward and rests his head on your forehead.  It would be a sweet gesture, him staring into your eyes like that, if it wasn’t for his words.
“I hope you’re ready to collect another sample, Doc.”  He groans a second after, euphoria flooding through him as he comes hard, spilling inside you.  The shocked look on your face is momentary as your release finds you, panicking but throbbing with intense pleasure as it burns through you.
 You find the strength to push him away and he goes with a laugh, tucking his softening cock messily into his pants.  It’s with a jog and a jaunty salute that he leaves you sweating and dripping on your worktop.  It’s with tears in your eyes that you revaluate your crush on Sergeant Barnes. How were you ever going to face him again after this?  That cruel bastard.
Hastily you snatch a clean vial, swiping it through the mess between your legs.  A sample was a sample after all.
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forbidding-souda · 2 years ago
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Hello, been lurking for awhile, figured its time I send an ask to one of the best Danganronpa blogs I've found. I'd like to kindly request Junko, Mukuro, Miu, and Mikan with an Ultimate Mad Scientist SO.
When I say Mad Scientist, I mean the Jekyll and Hyde chaotic energy type, whose totally willing to experiment in the most sketchy ways.
Thank you so so much in advance, take all the time you need because I know whatever wait there is will be worth it.
Junko Enoshima, Mukuro Ikusaba, Miu Iruma, and Mikan Tsumiki with the SHSL Mad Scientist S/O
happy forth of july
Tbh I need to read that strange case of jekyll and hyde book mmmm my mom loves that character
And thank you for waiting!! And thank you for reading my stuff. Here it is, I hope you like it, I love you <3
currently watching: white chicks
✯✯✯✯✯
-Mod Souda
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✯✯✯✯✯
Junko Enoshima
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✯ It's the type of vibe she desires in somebody. The lack of restraint and the weak sense of ethics makes her reminisce: you have the personality she has wanted in a partner ever since she was a child. Before she even approached you she would watch you from afar, as she is an observer and always has been. You are just so authentic and so very interesting. When the two of you were in class together she would sit at her desk with her chin in her palm, watching you sit at yours. You'd tap the pencil against your lips in thought - the thought never had anything to do with the lecture. You were always planning, she guessed. She knew what you were planning, of course she did, but she always wanted to hear it from your lips.
You put your fist ontop your open hand, mischief in your smile before you motion to play rock-paper-scissors. Her own smile grows. Are you really going to play against her? She thinks about it a little harder. Playing rock paper scissors with her is equivalent to asking her for her final say. With her analytical skills, she decides who wins and loses, therefore it is nothing like a game of chance. You know that, and she knows you know that. "Fists first." Your smile never fades. She repeats it with less enthusiasm. You win, of course, and you bounce in joy. "Oh, that's excellent," you glance around. "That means I get to mix the concoction, okay, stand back with the shield in case it explodes."
✯ She always helps you get away with shit. This means that she will both assist you in carrying out a project and assist in getting you out of trouble.
✯ She is 100% your number one fan, though. You'll be showing her this amazing chemical (definitely not toxic) cloud you can make and suddenly she's holding up a 10[/10] sign.
✯ Talks about you a lot to other people.
✯ Though, she does use some of your concoctions for evil, especially the ones of the dissolving sorts. Or she gives some to "Chikatilo~" for some event you're not informed of.
✯ Every day you step into your lab and find something missing. You don't worry about it. You know she is up to no good, and that is a valid reason.
.
Mukuro Ikusaba
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✯ She was used to surrounding herself with chaotic energy. You differed, however, because you actually offered her a house filled with love. A house of contravening can also be a sanctuary in which she is welcomed. There's something alluring about you, your unpredictable energy and your passion are things she likes. Even when the two of you were first in class together, mere strangers, she noticed your passion, and it put her into deep thought. Is she passionate about her SHSL, or does she just indulge in it because she is good at it? She looks up to you!
When she walks in on you holding one of her guns, she does hesitate for a second - a second - but it goes unnoticed by you, as by the time you notice her she's already continuing with what her goal was. She talks without even looking at you. "What's the idea with this one?" "Well, I'm so glad you asked." With your finger off the trigger you playfully point the gun at her, and as if she had a third eye, she glances over at that exact moment. You continue: "do you think I can create an acid that can dissolve a bullet faster than it flies?" She comes and takes the gun from you, examining the model before pointing it at the wall. Her finger twitches on the trigger. "Hmmm..." She seems to be in deep thought. "Maybe... Do you want to try?"
✯ If you accidentally launch something into the air, she can catch it very quickly. You can throw vials at her and she will be able to catch them before they shatter.
✯ ^ The gloves she wears are very valuable.
✯ ^ You always grab her hand and lead her over while you're in the middle of working, and she doesn't worry about being put in danger because god damnit she is wearing these gloves for a reason.
✯ When she feels as if she is missing you she will go to the little lab you have set up in the house and she will scold you for working so hard (a lie to get you to hang out with her).
✯ She will sometimes hide in the shadows and just watch you work.
✯ ^ The way you will randomly smile to yourself is unsettling.
.
Miu Iruma
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✯ You bet your ass she did everything she could to try and seduce you. The two of you were like magnets. She almost felt as if she needed you, as if being with you would be the final puzzle piece that would finish her project of living the ideal life. She needed somebody who could understand her at a psychological level, and not just somebody who will think she's amusing and be supportive. When she explains her ideas to you, you look at her with excited eyes and share other suggestions that she can bounce off of. She has never met somebody who indulges in her crazy ideas. She has never met somebody who never hesitates when it comes to being a person she can depend on.
You look over at her, stopping and holding the turkey baster, trying to carefully put a totally controlled amount into the tiny container. When the noise stops you continue, holding your breathe as you hold your face close to the counter.
But there the noise is again: her loudly slurping her noodles. You glance over.
She is looking right at you.
"Miu."
"Yeah?"
You blink.
When you try and finish your project, she just starts slurping again.
"Alright," you put your stuff down and jump on her, not caring if you spill any of the food.
✯ You are absolutely brilliant and it drives her crazy sometimes. The two of you will get into an argument and it is hilarious because she is stubborn, and you are always right, so it doesn't go hand in hand.
✯ She looks at you with love blazing in her eyes, and sometimes it weirds you out. She will notice the expression on your face and then say some brash joke.
✯ There aren't many layers to the relationship and she is happy for that. She doesn't want to feel as if her partner is peeling her back layer by layer, she wants to feel as if all the layers have melted together. She isn't a bundle of different traits, she is herself. You get that.
✯ Tbh sometimes when you're working on something she'll probably just purposely spill something all over you just to try and convince you to take off your clothes mmm.
✯ Probably jokes about chemicals and brain hormones. I'm not smart enough to think on one myself.
.
Mikan Tsumiki
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✯ She relates to you a bit. She understands the need to go beyond rules and regulation in the name of discovering new things. Does she go through with it? Not really. She'd never hurt anybody on purpose, but if they were already hurt, then what's the harm? You can see that in her. The admiration she looks at you with goes beyond any verbal sense of agreement or any opposing thoughts of compliancy. Still, sometimes she questions it. Why do you chose to do this, or words that go along those lines.
✯ Oh, if you don't stop stealing her syringes. She even hid the needles, the different gauges she has, but you then got your own. Whenever she tries to sneak into your lab to take them back, she always bumps into something and falls.
✯ She will often just quietly sit in the corner of your lab and study. The reason she will do this is simple: she wants to be around you.
✯ But yeah, sometimes you set her up for failure by asking her to carry some potion into the kitchen (knowing she might drop it). It's never something hazardness, but whenever she leaves the room you are just waiting for that clatter and yelp.
✯ You never see her move as fast as when she dodges your hand when you reach out to her with your dirty hands. She knows a bit about bacteria and contamination, and she does not know about asbestos and lead.
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evelxtus · 3 years ago
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Can I request for Scaramouch, Xiao, Kazuha, and Zhongli with witch!reader that try to learn how to fly with broom and suddenly fall down? The boys rush to catch them and try to scold them with reader just laughing. Make it fluff please~
Thank you and I love your writing 💕
Scenarios — Genshin Impact.
+Headcanons.
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠‧₊› scaramouche, xiao, kazuha, zhongli x witch!reader.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲‧₊› reader falls down the broom when trying to learn how to fly with it.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞‧₊› fantasy, fluff.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬‧₊› use of gn reader, a bit meanie scaramouche (not a lot dw), slight angst? - xiao- (just in case), and praising - zhongli, kazuha-
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞‧₊› I loved the witch reader idea tbh!! Thanks for requesting💓 I hope you like it, it was fun to write! Btw, thank yall so, so much for +600 followers!! 💓
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Scaramouche.
Scaramouche couldn't care less about anything that has to do with witches and all that subject in which you are involved. But hey, he can give it a try if it's something that concerns you.
Many times you can see him watching you as you try to learn some witch stuff for yourself. He is discreetly interested in what you do. If your gazes collide, he will quickly act disinterested.
“Tsk. What are you staring at? You go on with your things. Don't mind me.”
But of course, obviously he won't take long to make fun of you when you fail in your studies or practices. Although he doesn't go over the edge with you either... don't worry. No matter how bad his attitude is, he has a soft spot for you that will never openly admit.
You manage to raise the broom a few inches off the ground. That was already great progress, to be honest. But you did not have the patience, you wanted to advance to the next step to achieve your goal: fly with it.
You get to ride it, even though you're nervous. The eyes that seem so judgmental do not leave you for a second. Scaramouche who seems so calm sitting on the bench with one leg over the other, is watching every movement you make.
The broom rises higher off the ground, making your feet lose touch with the safety of the ground. That causes you to lose control and fall on your knees. It's the first time something like this happens to you, and your cheeks turned red as you heard Scaramouche's hurried steps towards your position.
“Are you serious? It was the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen you do in all this time.” His mocking tone makes you want to hide your face even more. Seeing your reaction, the boy sighs, resigned. “Get up, y/n. You are supposed to go step by step and not skip half the procedure. Or is it that you don't read the books?”
When you raise your eyes to him, he has his hand extended, waiting for you to take it to help you get up. Seeing that you are slow to react due to the confusion caused by his sudden gestures that have nothing to do with his usual evilness, he huffs and lifts you by the arm himself. “What are you looking at? Has the cat got your tongue?”
Your silence only makes him more uncomfortable, and a giggle escapes your lips. The boy removes his hand from your arm quickly. “What the hell is going on? What's so funny, you cheap witch?”
“Nothing really. The way you act so disinterested, but then it turns out that you read everything about witches when the only witch you know is me.” It had to be said, and you said it. All he can do is gulp and clench his jaw. You got him completely.
“Just... Shut up and keep going. Come on, you're already taking time.”
Xiao.
What you were doing was beyond the average understanding of a human, so Xiao does find a quick interest in your activities as a witch.
Like Scaramouche, he will also observe what you do from his own position. However, you can see the curiosity in him. If you ask him for help, he will surely offer himself for whatever you need.
“I'm afraid I don't have much to offer on this subject, but I could give it a try.”
As much as he is interested in this topic, he prefers to keep his distance from it. He doesn't want to be an obstacle or get in your way. No matter how much you tell him otherwise, he will continue to refuse interfering unless you ask him to.
There you are. Xiao leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, while you levitated several inches from the ground on your broom. “Are you watching this, Xiao? I'm doing it!”
Xiao silently watches the scene, and after seconds he looks away with an annoyed expression. “Keep calm. It is preferable that you do not go any higher.” He answers dryly. His intention is not to lower your spirits, but he wants to prevent possible accidents if you do fall. He would hate to see you with any body damage.
“I got it under cont- Oop!” Your voice is lost as you rise uncontrollably to the height of the treetops. Xiao moves and looks up, frantically searching for you. “y/n!”
Your voice returns to his ears, a scream from you makes him even more alert and he manages to jump up in your direction, fast enough to take you in his arms in the air. You snuggle up, hiding your face in his shoulder as he regains his serious demeanor and relief to have you safely in his arms. You did gave him a good scare.
When you get back to the ground, he lets go of you and crosses his arms, eyebrows furrow. “What did I say to you? You never look out for your own safety. What if one day I am not here to save you?”
His words sound harsh. He is really scolding you. “Yes, I'll be more careful... I'm sorry, Xiao.”
You lower your head in apology, but the boy raised his voice once more. “Watch out!” Your eyesight immediately goes up. The damn broom was inches from your head, luckily Xiao's grip on its wooden stick saved you from another accident. The boy sighed, digging the end of the broom into the ground.
You can't help but laugh. Bad luck seems to follow you, but you have your protector on your side. And as clumsy as you are, he won't give up on you.
Xiao and you look at each other. To your surprise, he also has a small smile on his face.
“You won't give me a single break, right?”
Kazuha.
Very interested in everything that surrounds you. Whatever it is, you can always count on him to keep an eye on you and what you have to say about it.
If you need help with something, you won't be alone. Kazuha will also look for information to help and make things easier for you. Also, he is almost always traveling. It will not be difficult to find what you need.
“This was handed to me on one of my travels. They say it is a very useful talisman for witches. Would you mind taking it and telling me if you notice improvements?”
Of course, before giving you anything, he will check from all possible sources to know if the object is truly reliable and will not do you any harm.
A lot of praising every time you make some progress.
After several failed attempts, you finally manage to sit on the broom and lift yourself up. A wide smile is drawn on your face as you hold on firmly to the wooden stick.
Kazuha seeing what you are achieving, gives you a brief applause. “You are doing very well, I am proud of you.”
Your happiness thanks to your achievement only made the boy giggle slightly. It seems to him such a cute image, so he can't help but feel butterflies in his stomach everytime the boy catches you smiling.
You get higher. And that's when your luck runs out, as the broom suddenly decides to turn around and leave you face down.
“Hold on tight!” exclaims Kazuha, who rushes to make his way towards you, but he is not fast enough and you fall to the ground. “Oh—” Well, at least it wasn't from much distance.
You stay face up, the only thing in your vision is the clear sky. You blink and there the boy appears, leaning out with a somewhat worried expression, his eyes lowered towards you. “y/n? It seems that someone got too carried away.”
You let out an embarrassed laugh, and the boy shakes his head slowly. You definitely are a case, but he will never leave your side.
“Here, let me help you and let's keep trying. From this mistake I hope you have learned the corresponding lesson, little witch.” His tone is calm and quite affectionate.
Zhongli.
Always, ALWAYS aware of you and that nothing bad happens in your training. Nothing that could hurt you because of witchcraft.
He also loves to feel proud of you, but when something is wrong he will not remain silent either.
Many times he uses his words to give you the energy you need to push yourself even harder. Who wouldn't, if your reward is this man's praise?
“You don't know how proud you would make me feel if you managed to do this flawlessly.”
His words are a great fuel for your motivation.
The man approaches you, slightly extending his arm and offering you support with it. “Oh? You don't usually help me this way.” Still, you accept and grab his arm to get on the broom. “I know, but learning this technique carries more dangers, and I'm not willing to risk something happening to you.”
You could melt with his words perfectly. He is so gentle to you. “Thank you, you are right...”
Zhongli glances at you as you move on the broom, looking for the most comfortable position in which to ride it. When you finally do it, he steps aside, leaving you as your only grip on the broom itself. “Just like that.”
It's when you get a little higher that you lose your balance and fall awkwardly. Luckily, Zhongli's arms are there to keep you from hitting the ground with a painful blow. You raised your gaze to his face. His eyes were a little wider, as this event does not happen often and it caught him somewhat off guard.
He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. “I believe I clearly said to keep it up just like that, not to disobey me and go higher.”
You looked away, at the ground as you separated from him with a little blush on your cheeks. You felt like a little kid being scolded by their father. You put your hands together shyly, giggling a little at how he were talking to you. “Okay, sorry.”
The man laughed in a low, grave tone. He couldn't be upset with you, you're just learning at your own pace. Zhongli extended one of his hands, which rested on your hair to lightly caress it.
“Do not apologize. Come back up and show me how well you'll do it now.”
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obsidiendo · 8 months ago
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It does sound very much like L'arachel to have daring tales of wit and bravery. Her newfound position as a co-educator ( again, Duessel does not think he has heard of such a position ) seems to suit her, and she seems very at-ease in front of a large group of students.
They're shuffling to their seats, anxious for the exam. He's made it fairly easy, but he does not want them to fail in the coming months. If he can get enough success, perhaps next semester he will be able to teach more advanced techniques -- his own goals are on Paladin and Fortress Knight, and he wants to share that with others.
The student pipes up and voices their concern, and though L'arachel does have an adequate answer it appears that others are not-so convinced. He hums, considers both her words and theirs, and then begins to pick up his tests from his desk.
"There's nothing to worry about. Lady L'arachel -- which is how you will address her, as we have gone over the importance of being polite -- will not be teaching you today. She will simply be assisting me in passing out exams, and when the practical portion of our class begins she will observe."
He hands her half the stack of exams. "If that is acceptable. I assume that your title of 'Lady' supersedes that of 'co-educator'?"
He motions for the rest of his class to sit, and though they look at L'arachel with trepidation and concern he does not mind them. It's right before lunch, and many are tired and eager to get this over with.
( another reason he always allows snacks in his class. he's heard from another professor that this sort of thing helps their students focus. )
"I've been well, thank you. I'm glad to be settled in here, though it was a difficult transition."
learn with lady l'ara and sir duessel!
continued from here!
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neo-shitty · 3 years ago
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heartbreak girl — y.ji
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prompt. #22 — listening to them while they vent for 🤎 anon (and i apologize that this is so late, advance happy valentine’s day)
description. introducing yang jeongin: resident best friend, never the boyfriend. | track #8 of the youngblood playlist 
pairing. yang jeongin x female reader
genre. fluff, slight angst, slight pining, bestfriends!au, high school!au 
warnings. swearing, mentions and consumption of chocolate/food
word count. 1.4k
notes. finally wrote for jeongin, just in time for his birthday too! happy innie day :> | taglist: @lixesque @dominonation @sanccharine @lixiesbabyhands @jensrose @rae-blogging @cavaree @pastelsicheng​ @onlysolane​ @koroleva-rezni​ 
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Jeongin’s refusal to hand over the box of chocolates must have been your last straw.
The circumstances leading to your outburst were nothing out of the ordinary. You would come up to Jeongin asking for anything (spare pens, candies, a box of chocolate today) and he’d say no just to see how long your patience would hold. But the air was different today, charged in static as the clouds formed. It took a total of (1) one ‘no’ to tip you over the edge, groaning in frustration as you stomped back to your seat. For the past half hour, you were hunched over your desk with your face tucked behind an impenetrable wall of arms, ignoring even the sharp violent ringing of the lunch bell.
Jeongin was happy to tick off one of the monumental goals off his list. Only he wasn’t as proud as he imagined he would be and the surge of guilt he felt as you walked away wasn’t even close to rewarding. In pride’s place was his conscience, like a guardian angel perched on his shoulder to remind him he crossed a line today.
It wasn’t entirely his fault really, but what he did was just the cherry to top everything off—the perfect finish to your dessert disaster that was the month of (supposed) love, February. The past two weeks haven’t been kind to you and you spent every night you were remotely free rambling over the phone about the streamline of problems that never ended. There were back to back examinations, mounds of homework, part-time child tutoring sessions, and the threat of the school’s monthly evaluations that could kick you out of the program if you slacked off. Balancing the overload had been your best asset, notorious for keeping cool as the rest of the student body was set ablaze and still managing to rank higher than regular load students.
Naturally, Jeongin suspected there was another factor. It took an effort to trick you into slipping up but only half of him thought it was worth it. Because the tornado that left a wreck in its wake was completely avoidable—a pathetic boy problem. The guy you were seeing since the beginning of the year called it quits, and as if his timing couldn’t get any impeccable, he decided to do so a week before Valentine’s. Who the fuck does that?
“_____,” Jeongin plucked his backpack off his desk, throwing the strap over his shoulder as he made his way to the other side of the room where you sat unmoving. “I’m leaving for lunch, you coming?”
No response. Not even a shift.
Jeongin sucked in a breath, trying his best to keep his hunger-borne irritation at bay. “_____!” More demanding now than earlier. “Get up and stop moping around! I hate seeing you like this!” 
You snapped your head up staring straight at him with the marks of a good nap imprinted on your cheek. “No one’s asking you to stay here and look at me, dumb ass,” you spat. “Go eat if you want to, I’m staying here. All those couples would make me lose my appetite.”
You curled back into your shell, blocking out his presence like you always did when you wanted to be ‘left alone’ but not really. So be it. Instead of walking away, he wrenched a chair out of the desk in front of you—spinning it around so he could sit facing you. He slumped down on the seat, propped his elbows on your desk and fished out his phone. It had been decided, the rest of his lunch break would be spent here.
He didn’t know why he was staying despite the audible protests of his stomach. Somehow, whenever it came to you, the inconvenience never ruled out his desire to stick by your side. Because that was what best friends were for, right? To have someone stick by your side through thick and thin, through the smartest calls and the worst mistakes.
It was almost first instinct for him to come to your aid now, even when he sucked at giving it. He never knew what advice to give, never knew the right words to say to make you stop crying. But he knew you preferred company rather than being left alone, and silent company over those who tried to let you talk about it more. And after the worst was over, you needed a buddy to trash talk the heartbreaker to.
You raised your head now, the side of your face pressed against your arms as you gazed out the window. “I just don’t know where I went wrong this time.”
Jeongin was silent at first. Then he opened his mouth to speak, “There’s nothing wrong with you. Just your poor taste in lovers, that’s all.” His phone chimed, the chair creaked, wind blew in from outside. A piece of your wall of arms broke away to deliver a strike to his arm. “Ouch, _____. All I’m saying is there are better people out there, you just happen to have a wonky radar.”
“Better people,” you scoffed.
Like me, idiot. 
The answer came too loud and Jeongin worried he actually said them out loud. But you kept your eyes on the view and his mouth was still shut. His fingers were still tapping away in a hopeless endeavor to recover the few seconds he was distracted. His avatar was low and quite cornered. 
He struck his cheek and hoped it appeared like he was just disappointed over the game. And why did he even think he was the more suitable partner? Just because he stuck around the longest? Maybe, the thought tugged deep in the back of his guilty thoughts. He lost count of all the times he had to catch you, keep your head up whenever it seemed to drop. He knew your weirdest quirks and it wouldn’t be an understatement to say he knew you better than most people did—the perfect candidate for your perfect partner. The only problem was he wasn’t what you wanted, not even close to the type of boys you got involved with, and somehow that voids everything else. Fuck it, he tells himself. Forget it.
But it’s hard to forget when he had seen it happen more times than you deserved to. Once would’ve been fine, just to say heartbreak like that happened to everyone. But to see it happen two more times? With the bags beneath your eyes darkening, your eyes bloodshot from crying, and your cheek stained with tear streaks? He couldn’t stand it.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Yang Jeongin?” He didn’t even notice he was looking at you until he found you looking right back. “You like me, don’t you?” Even with your eyes still puffy, you manage a smirk—your face a mismatch between what you feel and what you want the world to see.
Jeongin made a face. “It’s because you’re drooling.”
You sit up in alarm, rushing to wipe your mouth clean with the back of your palm. Jeongin was already up and moving away before you realized he was only tricking you. 
“Yang Jeongin!” 
His name sounded better when you said it, even with a pen flying straight toward him. You missed, but he had his own version of backfire as he tossed something right back at you. Your poor hand and eye coordination made it slip off your outstretched hands, landing on your desk in stuntman fashion—rolling until it stopped. It’s a box of chocolates, the box of chocolates. 
“So I just needed to cry so I could have it?” you asked, but Jeongin doesn’t answer. He’s halfway across the room again with his back turned. He could only put up with his stomach growling for so long.
“I thought you were giving this to someone!” Yeah, you. But you never asked who it was for specifically, he didn’t feel a need to mention it.
“Are you going to buy another one for them?” You’ve lightened up, he could hear it in the way your tone rises. Cheerful, bouncy, happy, just like how he always wanted you to be. His job was done. There was no need for another box. It’s already right where it needs to be.
“Thanks! Love you!” And he knows you didn’t mean it in the way he wanted it to. So he doesn’t bring himself to answer, afraid to slip up after coming that close. He slid the classroom door back shut and he stood out in the hallway, half his heart bare on his sleeve. 
So much for Valentine’s Day.
When he turned to gaze back inside the classroom, you were looking at him. You waved, smiling from ear to ear, muttering another thank you as you shoved a chocolate in your mouth, oblivious to his feelings as you always had been.
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© neo-shitty, 2022
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gamergirl929 · 4 years ago
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They Hate Each Other (No They Don't, Not Really)  (Alex Morgan x Reader)
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All would agree, your arch nemesis showing up absolutely anywhere you were would ruin your day, but that’s EXACTLY what happens to one veteran USWNT player, Alex Morgan, when she runs into her arch nemesis at the USWNT camp.
Alex Morgan’s eyes widen, pure rage running through her when you strut towards her, bag in hand.
“You shouldn’t look at your soon to be teammate like that Morgan, frowning gives you wrinkles.” You wink, the forward’s lip curling in a snarl.  
“What’s she doing-
“I DON’T KNOW.” Alex yells, nearly making Kelley jump out of her skin.  
Alex was absolutely livid, seeing you at the USWNT camp had been a surprise, and not a wonderful one.  
The second Alex spotted Vlatko Andonovski she advances angrily on the man, who’s looking at her as if he expected this reaction.  
“Alex-
“What the hell!? We’re you going to tell me? To tell US?!” She yells, louder than intended, but you’d riled her up in way no one had before.  
“I didn’t know you were the coach this year Morgan, if I did, I would’ve stayed home.” You snark, your smirk making Alex growl.  
“Shut UP!” She yells and you laugh.  
“We should room together Morgan, I think we’d make GREAT roommates.”  
Alex growls, mumbling under her breath.  
“It’ll be easier to smother you in your sleep then.”  
You smirk cockily.  
“Kinky.”  
Alex snarls angrily.  
“Listen.” Vlatko holds a hand up, glancing your way before turning back to Alex.  
“Y/N is one of the best players in the world, having her at our camp, and possibly on the team brings our team up to the next level. I saw a chance, and I took it.”
Alex shakes her head.  
“But-
He shakes his head.  
“I’m sorry Alex.” He pats her on her shoulder before turning away and walking off.  
Alex meanwhile is standing stock still, her mouth agape.  
Her biggest rival had just joined the USWNT camp, and would PROBABLY join the USWNT.  
She growls.
“Fuck.”  
                                                            ***
If you were being honest, you absolutely hated Alex Patricia Morgan, the woman knew how to push your buttons and she did so whenever she could.
You’d met during college, of course, on rival teams, ultimately where your rivalry began, a rivalry that seeped into your NWNT career, and when Alex came overseas, donning the Tottenham Hotspur’s jersey, you were there, wearing a red and white Arsenal’s jersey.  
Needless to say, when the two teams squared up, your rivalry continued.  
Alex hated you just as much as you hated her, making the competition between the two of you even more fierce.
It surprised literally EVERYONE that the two of you hadn’t killed one another yet.
At this current moment in time though, you were currently literal moments from killing one another.  
“I didn’t mean to step on your cleats Morgan, just go to the store when practice is over and buy another pair.” You snort.  
Alex lets out a feral growl.  
“You are SO fucking infuriating!”  
You blow the woman a kiss, which only infuriates her more, the woman stomping her foot before she trudges off.  
“Fuck off!” She yells over her shoulder and you scoff.  
“You too!”  
                                                            ***
Vlatko rubs the back of his neck watching as you and Alex hurl insults at one another. He’d known about your rivalry, but he wasn’t aware that it went to the extent of actual hatred.  
Alex was absolutely fuming as you walked past her, moments after sinking a goal in her team’s net.  
“Don’t look so mad Morgan, we both know I’m better than you could ever dream of being.”  
Alex stomps passed you, the woman’s shoulder slamming into yours.  
You flip around, eyes full of absolute fire.  
“Body check me again Morgan, I fucking dare you.” You growl in her face, so much so that your nose brushes hers.  
Alex pushes you backwards.  
“Nobody tells me what to do on MY FIELD.”  
You snicker.  
“Your field?” You throw your head back, barking out a laugh, though when you stop laughing you lean towards her, smirking.  
“Let’s see how much longer this field is yours, you numpty.”  
Alex growls as you walk towards the nearby benches with a confident strut.  
“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?”
                                                            ***
“I don’t get why you hate Y/N so much ANYWAY, she seems nice...”
The second the words leave Emily’s mouth she feels as if she’s about to burst into flames from the absolute fiery glare she’s getting from Alex.  
Kelley immediately slips in between Alex and Emily, her hands held up in surrender.  
“Jan, please don’t kill Emily, who else will carry on the Frat Daddy legacy!?” The defender asks, pleading for her child’s life.  
Alex snarls, stomping away from the two of them, all the while mumbling angrily under her breath.  
“Y/N NICE?! How could ANYONE put her and NICE in the same fucking sentence???” She snarls, deciding that some time on the field would clear her mind.  
                                                            ***
Though what Alex DOESN’T expect when she gets to the field is to find you there, the field between you and the goal littered with soccer balls.  
Alex ducks down when you turn her way, an aggravated snarl leaving you.  
“BLOODY HELL!” You yell, Alex’s eyes widening at the thickness of your accent.
She peeks out from her hiding place, watching as you drop down onto the pitch, sitting in a cross-legged position.  
Alex frowns when she sees your face is buried in your hands.  
“Fuck that shite.” You sigh as you move to your feet, wiping the sweat from your brow with your bare arm.  
Alex isn’t sure what possess her to stay for so long, but nearly an hour later you’re still on field, sinking ball after ball in different angles, it’s when you miss one that you angrily snarl.  
“Nothing but a right, cock-up!”  
Alex shakes her head, her brows furrowed.  
Why were you so hard on yourself after you’d done so well within an hours time?
Alex’s eyes widen when she sees you glance her way your brows furrowed.  
“Oi! Is someone there?!” You shout, standing stock still.
When no one replies, you give your head a rapid shake, unaware that Alex is currently sprinting away from the scene.
“Must’ve imagined it.”  
                                                            ***
Alex had seen how hard you were on yourself that day, but that in no way quelled her anger entirely considering you were at each other's throats after the fact.  
“You did that on fucking PURPOSE!” Alex growls as she’s helped to the bench, her leg injured from an accidental cleating by yours truly.  
You pinch the bridge of your nose as you jog over to the bench.  
“I didn’t!” You growl as you drop to your knees in front of her, the forward’s eyes wide and brows furrowed when you gently slip her cleat off her foot, along with her sock, now noticing the hints of blood dotting the fabric.  
“Shite.” You mumble, swiping the nearby first aid kit from the team’s doctor.  
“Yeah, I don’t like you, but I wouldn’t make you purposely bleed.”  
Alex watches in something akin to disbelief when you begin to clean her injury with a delicacy that she hadn’t seen from you in, well, ever.  
Your touch sent a jolt from her leg through her entire body, a warmth spreading throughout her from a delicate brush of your fingertips.  
Moments after you finished dressing her wound, you glance up at her.  
“This doesn’t mean I hate you any less.”  
You move to your feet, sending the woman a glare before you head back on field.  
“Don’t use your leg as an excuse for the shite way you’re playing, you know it’s just because I’m better than you.” You smirk cockily.  
Alex’s eyes narrow.  
“Better my ass.”  
                                                            ***
The first person who finds out about you making the USWNT, well, besides yourself, is Alex Morgan, considering you actively sought her out, a cocky smirk on your face.  
Alex sighs in annoyance.  
“I know you made the fucking team, go away.”  
You grin grabbing an apple from the table in front of you and take a bite, the apple crunching loudly.  
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be actually. Isn’t this where the USWNT members sit?” You grin, earning an eye roll from the forward.  
“Yes, but your seat is over there.” She nods towards the trash and you laugh, sucking a piece of apple down your windpipe, garnering no help from the woman beside you.  
“Blimey, let one of the ONLY reasons you’ll be winning any and all major tournaments this year die, real dull mate.”  
Alex growls.  
“I’m not, ‘dull mate.’” She says, doing her best to mock you and your accent.
Your eyes widen.  
“Oh my god, that was rank awful. That actually hurt to hear. My nan is rolling over in her grave right now.”  
Alex blows a raspberry at you.  
“Real mature love, real mature.”  
“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” She growls.
“I’m busy bothering you right now.”  
Alex snarls, jumping to her feet and storming off.  
“See you later teammate!” You yell, waving over exaggeratedly at her as she marches off.
                                                            ***
Where your feelings for Alex, at least off the field, were based more off of annoying her until the point of insanity, your feelings for her on the field was a competitive hate, something Alex mirrored, but her hate for you off field?  
Well, it was complete unbridled hate.  
“Seriously, if you’re going to play like that, then stay off the field, England needs you more than we do.” Alex shakes her head and you smirk.  
“You over shot it! Not me!” You shake your head in disbelief.  
Alex lets out a mock laugh.  
“Maybe you should’ve actually ran faster.”  
You throw your head back with a groan.  
“If I was in your position, we would’ve scored.”
Alex stomps her foot, the look in her eyes something you’d seen before, but never to this extent.  
“You’re not made for the USWNT and you’re NOT made for soccer at a national level, you sucked in college, and you still fucking suck now.”  
The field goes silent, everyone turning to look at Alex, their eyes wide.  
Meanwhile, Alex’s blue orbs are locked on your face, a face that holds literally no hints of the cockiness it TYPICALLY holds, instead, it holds what she reads, as a hint of sadness.  
You clear your throat, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you nod.  
“Th-Thanks.”  
Alex reaches out to you as you turn your back on her, the woman frowning as you make your way towards the bench, grabbing your things hastily before you head towards the bus.  
Alex’s head hangs in shame, the looks of her teammates burning holes in her back.  
“Alex-” Megan starts, only to be cut off by the forward moments later.  
“I KNOW! OKAY!?” She yells, sending the rest of the USNWT a look.  
Her shoulders hunch.  
“I know.”  
                                                            ***
The second she steps on the bus you turn away, unwilling to look at the woman as she walks past, though, unfortunately for you, she doesn’t walk past, she instead sits right beside you.  
“Are you lost?” You ask, voice rough.  
Alex shakes her head.  
“No, I’m not.”  
You move to your feet.  
“Well, if you’re not lost, then I’ll get lost.” You say, frowning when Alex doesn’t move so you can get out of your seat.  
“Move Morgan.” You growl angrily.  
She shakes her head.  
“No can do, Y/L/N.” She shrugs and you growl, about to climb over the seat, but the look on Alex’s face stops you, causing you to flop back down into your seat in annoyance.  
“Why are you holding me against my will Morgan?” You huff.  
She sighs, rolling her eyes.  
“Look, I’m sorry, I took it too far.”  
Your eyes narrow, brows furrowing as you lean back, away from the woman.  
“There’s no WAY that you’re Alex Morgan, she never apologizes, especially not to ME.” You bark out a laugh and she shakes her head.  
“As much as it PAINS me to do so, I shouldn’t have said what I said on field, you do deserve to be on the team, and you don’t suck... That much.” She shrugs, and you can’t help but smile.  
You begin chuckling, the woman looking at you in confusion.  
“What’s so funny?”  
“Yeah, you still suck.”  
Alex growls.  
“Fuck you Y/N.”  
You grin.  
“Right back at you love, right back at you.”  
                                                            ***
The lineup for the first match against Portugal was rather surprising, you weren’t expecting to start, not when players like Megan Rapinoe, Tobin Heath and Christen Press were on the team, but you were named to the starting lineup.  
You wouldn’t show your surprise to the team, but you’d been sure to ask Vlatko multiple times if the lineup was correct, and he of course, told you repeatedly it was.  
You did your best to not look nervous when standing in the tunnel, a number of Portugal’s players were glancing your way worriedly, everyone knew who you were, and everyone knew what you could do.  
The crowd cheered as the USWNT and Portugal made their way onto the field, everyone excited to see the new editions to the USWNT and what they had to offer.  
You completely blank out the National Anthem, standing stock still your eyes darting around the sold-out crowd.  
It isn’t until you’re taking your place on field that you snap back out of it, your eyes unconsciously darting to the woman with a big 13 on her back.  
You smirk.  
“Show time.”  
                                                            ***
You can feel it, the moment you’re about to make your first goal with the USWNT, your entire body shaking with excitement.
Alex can’t help but smile when you expertly slip the ball passed the Portugal player who’s on you and fire it in on goal, the ball with a bit of a spin on it.  
You still, the ball looking like an overshot, but thanks to the spin on it, gravity pulls it downwards, passed the goalkeeper’s fingertips and into the back of the net.  
You throw a fist in the air with a massive grin, a grin Alex mirrors when she walks over to you, patting your back, her reaction tame considering Tobin was currently hanging off your back, along with Kelley and Emily.  
Alex shrugs.  
“Lucky shot.”  
You snort.  
“Luck had nothing to do with it.”  
Alex snorts even louder.  
“I mean, I DID assist.”  
You roll your eyes.  
“Didn’t need your assistance.” You smirk, the forward’s eyes narrowing as she sends you a glare, receiving only a wink in return.  
Alex growls.  
“Still so infuriating.”  
                                                            ***
By the end of the first half the score is 2-0, and by the end of the game, it’s 4-0, one of those goals being yours, and another belonging to Alex Morgan.  
It’s when you’re heading to the bus that you turn to Alex with a smirk.  
“Had to copy me, huh Morgan?”
Alex scoffs.  
“Copy? You got a goal before me, big deal.”  
Tobin shakes her head as she takes a seat beside Christen on the bus.  
“Do they argue about everything?” She asks and Christen giggles, watching as you and Alex bicker, though instead of sitting far away from one another, Alex sits right behind you.  
“I mean, I guess that’s how they say they’re into each other.”  
An incredibly loud laugh makes Christen jump, the woman turning to her bus buddy who is looking at her in shock.  
“They literally want each other dead.”  
Christen rolls her eyes.  
“No, they don’t, they like each other.”  
Ali turns around in her seat towards Christen and Tobin.  
“I mean, it’s obvious.”  
Ashlyn scoffs.  
“Obvious that Y/N would poison Alex’s food if she could.”  
Kelley, who comes in from out of nowhere snorts.  
“Yeah, I mean, they’ve hated each other since college, Jan talks about it all the time.”  
Christen and Ali share a glance, the two shaking their heads.  
“They’re totally into each other.”
“Oh, I know.”  
                                                            ***
“Wait, there HAS to be a mistake...” You say as Vlatko turns to you, Alex’s eyes wide and filled with absolute horror.  
“No, the two of you are rooming together. It seems.” He shrugs, knowing full well that it was he who decided the two of you would room together, and it wouldn’t be a onetime deal either.
The two of you glance at one another, eyes narrowed.  
“I get the shower first.” Alex mumbles and you smirk, swiping the key from Vlatko before sprinting to the elevators.  
“The FUCK you do!” You yell, Alex sprinting after you.  
“Y/N YOU GET BACK HERE!”
Everyone watches as Alex chases after you, their eyes wide.  
Tobin turns towards Christen.  
“You call THAT being into each other?”  
Christen turns towards Ali, the two yet again, shaking their heads.  
“Oblivious.”  
                                                            ***
“DON’T USE ALL THE HOT WATER!” Alex yells, smacking the bathroom door and you growl.  
The door swings open moments later and you walk out, wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of boxers.  
“Morgan, we’re in a hotel, that’s impossible.”  
Alex watches as you head to your suitcase, riffling through its contents.  
She can’t help but stare, the wide expanse of flesh and muscle usually hidden beneath your uniform now on display for her to see.  
You turn around, holding a wad of clothes, your brows furrowed.
Alex jumps when you reach out, poking her in the forehead with your index finger.  
“Hey!” She growls, slapping at your hand.  
“I just wanted to see if you were still alive.”  
Alex’s eyes rake down your front, stopping on your very prominent abdominal muscles.  
You turn away and step in the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind you.  
Alex stands there for a moment before she glances around.  
“Yeah.”  
                                                            ***
Alex had TRIED to tell herself that she was in NO way ogling you like a horny frat boy, but when you walked out wearing basically the same thing to sleep in, she knew she was, for a fact, ogling you like a horny frat boy.  
She’d made a quick retreat to the bathroom moments after, but she couldn’t avoid you forever.  
You meanwhile were completely sprawled out in bed, Nintendo Switch in hand. You briefly wondered if Alex had drowned, but when the bathroom door swung open you sighed.  
“I thought you might’ve drowned, I was going to see if you wanted to smash.”
Alex stops mid-stride, dropping her clothes on the floor.  
“WHAT!?”  
Your brows furrow as you hold your Nintendo Switch up.  
“Smash...?”
Alex clears her throat, her cheeks blood red.  
“O-O-Oh...”  
You snort.  
“Christ Morgan.” You shake your head and she rolls her eyes, stomping to her bed.  
“What?”  
You shrug.  
“Get your mind out of the gutter, at least now I know you want in my trousers.” You smirk and she snarls, a pillow flying from her bed and smacking you right in the face.  
“Fuck you.”  
“SEE!” You grin, throwing the pillow back on her bed.  
“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”
You shake your head.  
“Get over here and we’ll smash.” You hold a controller out to her and her eyes narrow.  
“Sure, you’re okay with losing?” She asks cockily and you grin.  
“Are you?”
Alex scoffs.  
“I’d never lose to you.”  
“We’ll see about that.”  
                                                            ***
“Why do you look so tired?” Kelley asks Alex the following day and the forward yawns.  
“Y/N and I were Smashing.”  
Kelley’s brown orbs widen, as do Alex’s the forward punching her friend in the arm.  
“Super Smash Brothers you bitch.”  
Kelley hums.  
“I mean I could see you and Y/N hate fucking each other.” She shrugs and Alex’s cheeks flush bright red.  
Alex punches Kelley in the shoulder, the defender groaning.  
“Jesus Christ, Jan. You didn’t have to hit me so hard.”  
Alex turns her attention towards her breakfast and away from the pouting defender beside her.  
Though you were absolutely irritating and Alex thought about killing you a total of 48 times last night, she enjoyed spending time with you.  
You yawn as you make your way towards the table, sitting across from Alex.  
“You have to get used to losing if we keep smashing every night.”  
Suddenly a plate falls to the table, hard, the sound making everyone jump.  
Tobin is standing beside you, her eyes wide, Ashlyn meanwhile is smirking as she sits down beside you.  
“Who’s smashing?” Megan asks and you roll your eyes.  
“Smash Bros.” You shake your head and Megan rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.
“Boring, there’s only one Smash that’s actually interesting.”  
Tobin gasps dramatically, her hand on her heart.  
“I beg to DIFFER.”  
You shake your head, watching with amusement as the two bicker, leading to Ashlyn chiming in.
You glance at Alex.  
“You just HAD to tell everyone we Smashed.”  
Alex rolls her eyes.  
“Of course, I did, because I won.”  
You bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you sip your orange juice.  
“Like one time, Morgan.”  
Alex growls.  
“WELL, WE’LL SMASH AGAIN TONIGHT!” She yells, every single one of her teammates turning her way.  
Alex clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck.  
“Are we talking about the SAME Smashing?” You smirk and Alex sends you a glare.  
“SHUT UP.”  
                                                            ***
Alex rubs her temples angrily.  
Playing in the rain had always been a hassle, but playing in the rain against SWEDEN was a nightmare.  
Sweden was the USWNT’s rival and the fact that the USWNT were currently down by 2 of COURSE, didn’t sit well with Alex Morgan.  
The whistle blows, signaling the end of the first half and Alex sighs in relief, she needed a break, not only for her tired legs, but to quell the irritation inside of her.
Someone bumps into her and she snarls.  
“Watch where the FUCK you’re going.” She turns towards, who she now realizes is you, you who looks as equally pissed as she does.  
“Listen Morgan, I’m seriously not in the fucking mood, I’m just as mad as you are, so don’t start your shit with me.” You snap, your USWNT teammates stopping to stare at the two of you with wide eyes.  
“Fuck you.” She snarls turning to walk away and you sneer.  
“Yeah? We’ll fuck you too!” You yell before you follow after her and into the locker room.  
“Why are you following me!?” She yells and you scoff.  
“WE SHARE A LOCKER ROOM.” You deadpan, flopping down on the nearby bench.  
“Well, you can still sit away from me.” Alex gripes and you shake your head.  
“I’m not moving Morgan.”
Alex, being purposely annoying sits down behind you, rather closely in fact.  
“Well, I’m not either.” She mumbles and you snort.  
“Mature Morgan, REALLLL mature.”  
                                                            ***
By the time the game ended the USWNT had a comeback, winning the game 3-2, much to Alex’s elation, as well as your own.  
That elation didn’t erase the fact that the two of you had argued during the match, the two of you cold, wet and incredibly angry.  
Alex is pulled out of her trance when the bathroom’s door in your and her hotel room swings open, a rush of steam flowing out as you leave the room.  
Alex glances away from you, not only because you’re, yet again, barely dressed, but also because she’s ashamed of her behavior earlier that day.  
You flop onto your bed without even looking at her, choosing to fall face down against its plush surface.  
You remain silent, the air within the room incredibly heavy.  
The silence is broken by Alex’s soft whisper.
“I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you.”  
You remain silent as you roll over, your hand slipping into your suitcase.
You search blindly until you find what you’re looking for, holding the Nintendo Switch out to Alex.
“Smash?” You ask and Alex smiles.
“Smash.”  
Alex flops on the bed beside you, taking the controller she’d used a few nights prior.
You glance at her out of the corner of your eye.
“I’m sorry too.”  
Alex’s brows arch, the woman unable to bite back a smile, something that makes you send her a glare.
“Enough of this shite, ready to lose Morgan?”  
Alex scoffs.  
“I should be asking you that.”  
                                                            ***
You grimace as the body beside you shifts, a pair of arms wrapping tightly around you from behind.  
“I’m not the little spoon.” You growl, attempting to wiggle free from the hold you’re in.  
“Get over it.”  
Your eyes flash open, as do Alex’s the two of you abruptly sitting up when you realize you’d in fact fallen asleep together the night before.  
You turn to face her, the two of you looking at one another in absolute horror.
“I was just-
Alex leaps out of bed, the woman making a beeline towards the bathroom the two of you share.  
You nod, your cheeks flushed.  
“Ye-Yeah.”
You clear your throat, turning away from the bathroom to instead look at the alarm clock beside you.  
3:13 AM
You grumble, annoyed at the fact that you’d woken up so early.  
If you were honest with yourself, you were also annoyed that Alex wasn’t currently beside you, but you weren’t really in the mood for honesty at the moment.  
You flop backwards, rolling towards the center of the bed where it just so happens Alex had been laying moments later, the smell of the woman’s perfume left behind on the sheets.  
You attempt to resist temptation, but find yourself failing when you bury your nose into the sweet-smelling fabric, the smell clouding your senses.  
The bathroom door creaks open sometime after, the sweet-smelling fabric lulling you to the cusp of sleep, as you fight your eyelids you watch as Alex tiptoes to her bed, the woman glancing over her shoulder at your ‘sleeping’ form with a smile before she makes her way to her own bed.  
She falls down onto the cold sheets with a frown, thoughts of what the following day would bring running through her head.  
                                                            ***
Much to everyone’s surprise at practice the following day, neither you nor Alex had been at one another’s throats, in fact, you’d been ignoring each other as if the other had contracted the Black Death.  
Even when you slip a ball passed Alex and into goal, you don’t gloat, instead choosing to just jog away as if you hadn’t scored.  
“Okay, what the hell was that?” Kelley asks, her eyes narrowed as she stares inquisitively at Alex.  
“What?” Alex asks dumbly.  
Kelley scoffs.
“THAT, Y/N didn’t even gloat! She didn’t rub in your face that she scored passed you!” Kelley points at you and Alex shrugs.  
“Beats me.”  
Kelley’s eyes narrow even further as Alex walks away, the defender’s eyes burning holes in her back.  
“I WILL FIND OUT WHAT’S GOING ON JAN!” She yells across field, drawing the attention of each and every one of her teammates, including you.  
You clear your throat, your cheeks flushing when you realize Alex’s blue orbs are on you.  
The two of you abruptly turn away from one another, thoughts of the events that transpired that morning running through your heads.  
You clear your throat as you rub the back of your neck, your cheeks flushing further when you think about Alex’s arms around you, and how much you’d liked it.  
                                                            ***
That night was even worse considering the two of you were still rooming together.  
Alex refused to look in your direction and you refused to look in hers, making the situation even more awkward.  
“Look.” Alex started, causing you to turn her way, when your eyes locked, she fell silent.  
“This was easier when you weren’t looking at me.”  
Your eyes widen momentarily before you turn away.  
“Alright Morgan, go ahead.”
Alex huffs.  
“I’m sorry about last night, I didn’t mean to, ummm...”  
You chance a glance her way, smirking when you see how flushed her cheeks are.  
“What?” Alex asks when she sees the smirk on your face and you shrug.  
“Nothing.”  
You fish your Nintendo Switch out of your bag and nod towards your bed.  
“Let’s go Morgan, or are you too shy to Smash now?” You ask, a brow arched and Alex scoffs.  
“Not a chance.”  
                                                            ***
It’s an hour into playing that it happens, though neither you, or Alex realized it was happening until your shoulders brush.  
You both stiffen, your eyes widening, though neither of you dare look at the other.  
Something else neither of you do though is scoot away from one another, your shoulders still brushing.  
You clear your throat, your body untensing as you settle back against the pillow behind you, the feel of Alex’s blue orbs boring into you making goosebumps sprout on your flesh.  
“Come on Morgan, head in the game.”  
You miss the tiny smile that adorns Alex’s face as she focuses on the screen before you, though what you don’t miss is the brush of her leg against yours.  
The inevitable of course happens when you feel Alex’s head rest on your shoulder, the woman fighting her fluttering eyelids.  
You glance at the nearly unconscious woman on your shoulder and snort.  
“Lay down Morgan.” You smile, the forward grumbling.  
“But I don’t want to get up...”  
You roll your eyes, taking her controller and laying your Switch on the table between your beds.  
You wiggle until your head hits the pillow behind you, which results in Alex’s head falling onto your chest, the forward’s eyes widening.  
You remain silent, waiting for her to make the next move, when she cuddles into your side, your cheeks flush, that flush spreading to the tips of your ears.  
“Is this, okay?” Alex asks in a hushed whisper and you smile.  
“It is.”  
                                                            ***
The two of you sharing a bed becomes a regular thing, so much so that Alex’s bed remains untouched 95% of the time, usually housing your luggage instead of Alex like it should be.  
The rivalry you had on the field soon disappeared, something that came as a shock to literally everyone, even Vlatko.  
You knew what you felt for Alex wasn’t friendship, it went well beyond that, your hatred for her turned into something you never ever expect, and that was love.  
You loved Alex Morgan and there was no going back.  
                                                            ***
You were pissed, absolutely pissed, and how could you not be when no fouls were being called against Canada?  
Fouls that were currently being directed at #13, Alex Morgan.  
You snarl when yet again, Alex is taken down in the box, but YET AGAIN, the foul isn’t called.  
“COME ON!” You yell, stomping towards the downed forward whose hand you take before you pull her to her feet.  
“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly as you scan the forward who nods.  
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She smiles and you nod.  
“She better call the fouls or I swear-
The whistle blows and you growl.  
“Nothing but a right bitch that one.” You mumble before jogging away, missing the snort that Alex lets out, the forward shaking her head.  
Her cheeks flush from more than exertion when she realizes your anger that’s directed at the ref is because the fouls have been directed solely on her, considering she was the only one being fouled.  
And that was about to happen yet again, but this time, Alex wasn’t going to get up.  
                                                            ***
The look on your face was one of pure horror when Alex went down with a cry, the Canadian player’s cleats digging into her skin, soaking her socked ankle with blood.  
The whistle blows loudly, the ref finally carding the player who’d fouled Alex with a red card, but that wasn’t good enough for you, not when Alex was currently bleeding.  
Alex watches from her place on the ground as you advance on the player in red, landing a right hook that would make any boxer jealous, the woman falling to the ground with a thud.  
Time literally stands still, your knuckles throbbing in pain as the player cups her cheek, her eyes wide as she stares up at you in shock.  
“OFF THE FIELD! NOW!” The ref yells, the woman producing a red card immediately and holding it high above her head.  
“Bugger off, wanker.” You mumble as you make your way towards Alex, who’s currently surrounded by the medical team.  
“What the hell did you do that for!?” She growls at you and you frown.  
“I-
You glance around, watching as the Canadian player, you were so angry you didn’t know her name, is aided off field, the woman still clasping her cheek.  
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, the taste of bile on the back of your tongue.  
Deep down, you knew why your reaction had been so visceral, but you couldn’t tell Alex that could you?  
So instead, you decided to do the only thing you could do, and that was turn on your heels and sprint towards the nearest exit.  
                                                            ***
Alex frowns as you sprint towards the exit, leaving her and the team behind.  
The medical team hoists her to her feet, the woman limping off field, the fans clapping in respect for the USWNT player as the final whistle blows.  
The second Alex gets off field though she pulls away from the medical team, choosing instead to limp after you, the forward hoping she wasn’t too late and was able to catch you.  
Alex limped down the tunnel and rushed towards the nearest exit, hoping it was the exit you’d went through in your haste to put distance between the two of you.
She rounds the corner, a sigh of relief leaving her when she sees you marching down the sidewalk, away from her.  
“Y/N!” She yells, causing you to stop in your tracks.  
The dark clouds overhead that had been teasing rain all day had finally opened the proverbial floodgates, the soft sprinkles becoming somewhat of a downpour in literal moments.  
Slowly, you turn around to face the forward who’s advancing on you, the woman limping as quickly as she can, closing the distance between the two of you.  
You swallow hard, unable to look the woman in the eye as she tries catching your gaze,  
“Y/N?! What was that!?” She yells, pointing back at the field and you shake your head.  
“What was that!?” She yells again and you swallow hard.  
“She was on your ass the entire game Al, and no one was calling the fouls! I had to do something!” You yell over the heavily pouring rain, the nickname slipping unknowingly off your tongue.  
“That’s not your job, Y/N.” She frowns and you scoff.  
“So, I’m just supposed to watch her hurt you? Watch her make you bleed!?” You cry, the feel of frustrated tears welling up in your eyes.  
“Why does it matter so much to you!?” She asks, and you shake your head.
“Because I love you!”  
Alex stiffens, as do you, your eyes widening in horror when you realize what you’d just said.  
Your mouth opens and closes, the taste of bile on the back of your tongue as you take a step back from the injured USWNT forward.  
Alex reaches out for you, her fingertips brushing the back of your hand.  
“Y/N...” She whispers, taking a step towards you.  
You’re about to take a step back when she grabs your wrist, effectively holding you in place, you weren’t about to jerk away, fearful that you may hurt her.  
You swallow hard when she steps even closer, the distance between you closing as her chest brushes your own.  
“Say it again.”  
You shake your head as you turn away, though when Alex’s fingers intertwine with yours, you turn back towards her, the woman’s blue orbs focused on your hand in hers.  
“Say it again...”  
You shake your head, a lump forming in your throat.  
“Alex-
“Please Y/N.” She whispers as she tucks a strand of hair, that had been stuck to your face, behind your ear.  
You blink rapidly, Alex’s fingers tracing your jawline before she cups your cheek.
Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you find your voice.  
“I-I...” You stammer, your eyes shutting as you swallow.  
“I love you, Alex, and I think I always have I just-
You stiffen, your eyes wide and hands hovering in the air as Alex’s lips meet yours in a tentative, first kiss.  
Just as your eyes flutter shut the team rounds the corner, their eyes widening before they turn Christen and Ali, the two smirking as they bump their shoulders together.  
“We told you.”  
Meanwhile your hands find purchase on Alex’s waist, the woman pulling back only to lean right back in, the brush of her lips sending a jolt throughout your entire body.
A crack of lightning makes the two of you jump, though neither of you pull back, your lips brushing as the two of you smile, toothy grins on full display.  
Alex’s forehead rests against yours, her hair stuck to her face thanks to the water entirely soaking the two of you.  
The reasonable members of the team usher the chaotics back into the arena, leaving you and Alex alone, the two of you so wrapped up in one another you hadn’t noticed them anyway.  
Your tongue swipes at your lips, your Y/E/C orbs focused intently on Alex’s.  
“When did you know?” Alex asks, her voice pulling you out of your trance, your cheeks flushing.  
“Know what?” You ask dumbly, earning a look that says Alex knows you’re just playing dumb.  
You sigh.  
“The first time you yelled at me during a match in college.”  
Alex’s brows arch.  
“It was cute.”  
Alex scoffs.  
“It wasn’t meant to be cute.”  
You shrug.  
“Well, it was to me, and I was right smitten.”  
Alex’s lips split into a massive grin, the woman leaning in to bump her nose playfully against yours.  
“Your nose crinkles up when you’re angry.” She giggles and you bite your bottom lip, your cheeks dusted pink.  
Alex tilts her head back, kissing the tip of your nose, your lips splitting into a grin.
“I guess we better get back in there...” Alex sighs and you huff.  
“I guess so.”  
Alex reluctantly takes a step back before she turns around, the two of you walking back to the door that led back into the arena.  
Before Alex can make her way through the tunnel, you grab her wrist, giving her a gentle tug until she’s back in your arms again, your nose brushing hers.  
“I never ACTUALLY hated you.” You whisper softly, giving her wrist a squeeze.  
Alex smiles, the forward closing the distance between you with a feather light kiss, her lips feeling as if they barely brush your own.  
“And I never ACTUALLY hated you either.”
You cup Alex’s cheek, the woman’s blue orbs disappearing behind her fluttering eyelids as she leans into your touch.  
It’s in that moment when you spot them out of the corner of your eye, a snort sounding in the back of your throat as you watch your teammates scramble to make themselves scarce.  
Alex follows your gaze, the woman rolling her eyes in annoyance when she spots your nosy teammates.  
“Idiots.”  
You wrap your arms around her from behind, pulling the woman close, your chin resting on her shoulder.  
“So, you yell at them, and I watch? I bet it’s even cuter when you’re yelling at someone else.” You grin, grunting when Alex elbows you in the stomach.  
“It’s not cute when I’m angry.” She pouts and you grin, shrugging.  
“Actually, it’s adorable.”  
Alex growls, a furrow forming between her brows as she tries, and fails to scowl at you.  
“Still so infuriating.” She grumbles, the woman about to turn away, but before she can you catch her lips, unable to bite back a smile as the two of you kiss.  
“I’m so infuriating, but you still smitten, aren’t you love?” You ask and she rolls her eyes, her cheeks flushed red.  
She gives your shoulder a playful slap and you snicker.  
Looking into the pools of blue that are Alex Morgan’s eyes, you knew coming to the US was the best decision you’d ever made.  
You lean in, tilting your head back to press a kiss to her forehead.  
“What do you say we go kill our nosy teammates now?” You ask with a grin and Alex takes your hand, intertwining your fingers.  
“Lead the way.”  
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