#file under: how i will be spending my sunday

[thiswildernessismyhome]

femslash exchange 2023 is live! so many good stories this year. <3

[lovingjingyuan]

I wonder: How would hsr boys react to someone trying to take pics up ur skirt? This is an unhinged thought that I’ve thought to long, please cure this weird thinking.

Characters: Avneturine, Jing Yuan, Blade, Sunday, Boothill

Aventurine

When Aventurine caught sight of a creepy man attempting to take inappropriate photos under your skirt while you were dress shopping for clothes, he was appalled and disgusted. 

“Check this green dress out. It’s like the color of an aventurine. I think it would look dashing on you” He threw in a little wink with his words, while deliberately trying to divert your attention away from the unsettling situation. 

With a reassuring smile he added, “this one's on me, spend freely.” He presented you with the beautiful dress on a hanger, while planning on taking you to the evening ball hosted by the IPC for the executives. 

Oh but he makes sure in the background he discreetly makes sure to contact someone from the IPC technology department to delete every piece of data, wiping everything off that creepy man’s phone. He also arranged a few of his IPC bodyguards, instructing them to follow that man so he can deal with him ‘personally’ later.

Jing Yuan

(Husband♡) Jing Yuan is a gentleman. He doesn’t want to concern you with these, wanting to save you the embarrassment and tainting your mind of peace. What truly astonishes him is the fact one of his very own staff members working at the Seat of Divine Foresight is involved in such despicable behavior. Towards his lover too!

“Ahem ahem,” he clears her throat, catching your attention. “Love, could you spare a moment and help me sort out these files?”

As you approach him he slickly wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into his embrace. He just can’t bear the thought of anyone seeing you in such a vulnerable way. Anyone that’s not him :( he loves his darling too much for anyone to be ogling at you. 

Without any sort of explanation he sat you down on his chair and covered your lap in a blanket. You’re confused and puzzled by his random action but he’s fuming in anger under his facade smile. 

He’s determined to address this issue in the most “legal” way possible. If he could.

Bladie!!!

He would either glare intensely at the point to the point the creepy man would delete the picture out of sheer intimidation. Orrrrr, Blade might just go over and greet them with his sword. As simple as that 🤷‍♀️

His glare alone is a death sentence, especially when he’s protecting his beloved. He loves you very much; just has a hard time expressing it!

Sunday

How could anyone commit such sinful and absurd acts, escapilly towards his beloved! He frowns upon any lewd or disrespectful behavior. Sunday would be absolutely speechless and consumed by fuming rage and disgust, staring at your offender. 

Regaining his composer, he approaches you with a mask smile hiding the intense emotions he felt, “Just a moment,” he says, glancing at you. “We mustn’t  be late for our outing my dear,” He extends one hand out for your hand. Despite his calm demeanor, his other hand clenched tightly behind his back. 

He averts his gaze directed towards the man behind you. “Please report to the BloodHound they will like to meet with you,” he says, his voice with strained restraints. 

Sunday hurriedly leads you away. Although Sunday may be a forgiving priest he had limits which that man crossed. He;s immensely disappointed that something like this would occur in Penacony’s dreamscape where everyone is supposed to be and feel relaxed in the hands of The Family. And he’s more upset it occurred to his beloved. 

Boothill

he will confront and make a scene cause you're his darling.

Boothill wants to spit out the most profound language but his system won't let him. seeing a man taking pictures of his darling? Fudge no! unacceptable!

"Muddle Fuger, what are you doing?" he tries cussing out the creepy man startling the man with their phone under your skirt.

"Son of a nice lady! What the heck are you doing to my girl?!" He makes a big scene, causing the man to panic because everyone turns their attention to this scene.

he's ready to whip out his revolver and protect his darling. Maybe after this he would take off his hat and put it behind your bum to cover you up as you two walk back from the embarrassing situation.

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

I finally finished exams! blah blah blah. I'm bored af summer and I've been play wuwa! I love PGR Roland so I played cause it's from Kuro games. And omg Geshu Lin!!! He looks like Jing Yuan thats why I like him.

Avneturine Rant: Also I can't help this but I'm becoming obssed with Avneturine. I showed my friend an edit of him. she said he's so fine cause she like white blonde men. I'm starting to fall so inlove with him now! Same level of love with Jing Yuan. I can't Aveneturine is too charming. Didn't like him much at first but god his backstory and that mini anaimation how could I be so Blind! Same situtaion with Jing Yuan.

Also gonna update now

[deonsx]

If They Need You

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno

Content: obscene speech

Dazai Osamu

Dazai He often annoys you at work so after a while you get used to it, he has no shame he constantly exposes you to lewd words in front of his coworkers

He frowns when you're angry with him and whispers manipulated words in your ear with puppy dog ​​eyes that you can never reject

But this workday was different from the others, dazai was constantly making strange noises and wouldn't turn his gaze from you. you realized that and you ignored him finally it was lunch break and everyone went out but you didn't finish the files so you need to stay, with dazai

You thought you would continue to ignore him like it was during the day and you got up and went to get water a hand tightly around your waist pulled you to him "dazai! what the hell are you doing, we are at work" he ignored it and left kisses on your neck

"I need you" you felt a hardness as he hugged you tighter from behind "You realize we're at work and when we get home-" he didn't wait for you to finish andhe quickly picked you up and tossed the papers on the table and put you there

Why did you suddenly think he was acting like a stray animal but he didn't give you time to think, you stopped him "osamu we're at work and break is almost over" he took a long breath "then we'll do it otherwise" you raised an eyebrow as he said that "how so?" you asked. he went and sat in his chair, his eyes still on you

"Get Under The Table And Be A Good Girl For The Day Bella"

Chuuya Nakahara

The only day your boyfriend was available and with you was Sunday, and this time you wanted to spend the night at restaurant

Normally you wouldn't prefer places like this, but you wanted to have fun with him so you went to his favorite place for wine, the food and drinks came as usual, but the waiter asked if we wanted the drinks special this time, chuuya turned his eyes to the drink "Special?" the waiter nodded, "A hot special wine for you?

"Have you tried before?" The waiter asked the question with a warm smile, you answered "no? does it taste good?" the waiter nodded happily, chuuya must have liked this service, he said happily on his face "give us your hot special wine" That's how it all started the drinks were put on the table you both drank

and as soon as 5 minutes passed, you felt a warmth and hesitated but your boyfriend asked for 2 more glasses in a row and then the same thing must have happened to him as his eyes and face turned red "hot.." he whispered "I think now I understand why it's mulled wine" you muttered chuckling and you gave him advice "you shouldn't have drunk so much, honey" he lifted his head from the table and his eyes focused on you like a hungry animal "Go in the back room and wait for me" he told you in a serious tone

he didn't speak any more he obviously gave you orders you hesitated to get up but you got up and walked into the private room in the restaurant and sat on the bed made with red patterns before long chuuya arrived. You heard him lock the door behind him

“Undress My Love"

Ranpo Edogawa

You and your boyfriend were returning from a tired business trip, and he was talking to himself while eating his desserts and complaining that he couldn't touch you even once during his work vacation

He couldn't touch you because whenever he tried it, it was like there was a constant glitch Calls, Doorbells, Tasks, you couldn't do anything because of them, even at midnight you were tired and you were sleeping, the vacation was only 3 days and now you are driving the car and he is too He was expressing his anger

Of course, he was saying all this with a joke. After a short silence, ranpo pointed to a visible gas station with his hand "We have gas, my love" Ranpo smiled when he said this, "I have to buy something from the market" he prepared while saying "I'm waiting in the car"

The roads were so dark, the gas station lights were dim and gray so you couldn't see much around you parked the car and your boyfriend got out of the car fast

While you were waiting for him, you looked outside, you thought it must be a coincidence that there is a completely deserted grass and a gas station in nature

You unlocked your door with a knock and let your boyfriend open the door, you got up from your seat to look at what he was holding. "Condom??" "Just like that my love it's been a long time" he hissed as his eyes narrowed slightly

“How About You Take The Back Seat And Give Me A Nice Feast?”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

The man who is both your boss and your boyfriend at the same time, you do whatever he says, of course, this is valid during business hours

He gave you a mission but there was a glitch in the mission and now someone who works for fyodor just like you was scolding you, your relationship was secret so no one would have guessed it

The man was scolding you "It's really not wise to give such a job to such a woman" he talked again "You're stupid, you're useless, why are you in this job? Fyodor, why did our boss hire a prostitute like you? Or do you have something else?" he grinned and his hand reached out to you everything happened in the blink of an eye blood was everywhere

You saw your boyfriend coming from the shadows as the man's body crashed to the ground "I'm guilty of hiring someone like this next time you see someone like that know you're allowed to kill"

He slowly put his hand on your waist and took his steps towards the exit to get you away from there. "Fedya, the glitch on duty-" “shhh It doesn't matter, I have another request from you, my dear”

You left your office and walked in the dark street "It was a tiring day my love" his white skinned eyes illuminate the night telling you "You're kind of happy with that tone of voice" The man smiled "Of course I am" his grin widened he pulled you into the alley and quickly picked you up

“Open Your Legs For Me Only, My Dear”

Nikolai Gogol

You were also involved in your Boyfriend's Important Mission and your scene has already ended and you've been waiting for him

You were waiting at the hotel he hired for you. While waiting for him, you looked at some of your clothes in the closet. A really nice dress with red above the knee, thin sleeves and a really nice dress. You were getting ready for your job interview tonight. You opened your hair and waved it with tongs

You were waiting for Nikolai, after he finished his job and informed you, you were going to go to your job interview, the hotel door opened with a card and your boyfriend came in dressed in white "wow, whose beauty does this belong"

A splendid smile formed on your face, he approached from behind and ran his hands over his body "really nice dress for one wear" you looked at him in surprise "one wear?"

"I'm going to tear it up at the end of the night after all" She said with a pleasant chuckle "Sorry darling, but tonight I going to the job interview which is unlikely to happen"

Fingers entwined with your dress, fiddling with the zipper of the dress "hmm? you're a naughty boy" you said while holding his chin. He pulled you into a beautiful deep kiss

“I'm Gonna Fuck You Until You Can't Walk To That Job İnterview”

Jouno Saigiku

You were both on a mission given by Fukuchi and you went to a bar place and you were the main player here

Your boyfriend was only responsible for killing the man, you were going to lure him and take him to the hotel room, that's all, but it was harder than it looked because the man was trying to kiss you

He was trying to touch you which is perfectly normal if you don't let him the plan would fail the guy grabbed your waist, you could feel Jouno's eyes on you but you tried not to look

"Why is she such a beautiful woman in such a place" the man approached you with his drunk mouth you were disgusted and frankly tense, you tried to look at your boyfriend's side but you couldn't see him, this gave you an incentive to get scared

"Hey! Learn to look at my face when I'm talking to you, do you know who I am?" he spat filthy on the ground and you ask "What are you trying to say?" "Just tell me the price per night dear"

"How dare you" You talked but suddenly the lights went out and gunfire came back when the lights came back there was a pool of blood everywhere You looked at your boyfriend standing in front of you smiling at you "I'm sure there was a glitch in the plan the boss wouldn't mind"

He pulled you by the arm and led you to the room at the back entrance of the bar "does it turn you on when someone else touches you?" he asked you in an angry tone, you couldn't get over his surprise yet "what!? how do you think about that?"

"You look so happy to me" said as he pinned you against the wall "Never was that possible" his brows dropped and he grabbed your legs and tied you around your waist

"Show Your Worth To Me"

Request Are Open!

[batsplat]

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

[munsonluhvr]

the divine encounter (18+) - gator tillman x innocent!religious!reader | word count - 2.8k

ᡣ𐭩 part 2

It was in the middle of Sunday mass that Gator Tillman spotted you. You wore a too-short-for-church dress, a snug cardigan covering your upper half. Your hair bounced off your back each time you kneeled, stood up, and kneeled again to pray. You were utterly fascinating from behind, the bounce of your hair mesmerizing, the curve of your body mouth watering. When you turned to shake other church goers hands, following instructions from the priest to share thanks with the congregation, Gator caught sight of your face – angelic. Gator knew he had to have you. 

“Back row of church,” Gator’s father, Roy, mutters under his breath. “All because you had to stare at yourself in the god-damn mirror and make us late for church. Now we have to stand in the back like some common folk.” Roy jabs the flesh of Gator’s ribs with his pointer and middle finger, digging into Gator’s skin until he wriggles away. 

Gator only sighs softly in response, inaudible to his father’s ears. He lets his mind wander to plan what he’ll say to you, occupying his mind away from church’s tedious rituals and his father’s wrath. Quietly, he thanks himself for spending too long in the bathroom and making his family late for church: he never would have spotted you if they were sitting in the front row, like usual, and you were behind him. 

Church finishes with the shake of the choirs tambourine and the high-pitched sound of Gator’s father singing proudly, his wife Karen squeaking along beside him. Gator only played along as religious to please his father; he always felt a million miles away from reality when he attends church with his father, step mother, and half-sisters. 

Gator watches as you and your own family exit the pew, filing into the center aisle in the middle of church. The small congregation mingles throughout the confines of the church, the priest making his rounds too. You have your hands clasped in front of you, a small smile on your mouth as you greet people. You play the role of innocent, your hair tucked behind your ears, cheeks tinted pink, but Gator doesn’t buy it, not for one second. 

Gator turns to tell his father that he’ll be right back, but he notices his father has already left the pew, annoyed with his son’s ogling at the rest of the churchgoers being social. Gator files out of the pew, joining his father and step mother who are gathered in a small group of community members, supporters of his father's. Off to the side, his half-sisters run up and down the steps outside that lead into the back of the church, squealing carelessly. 

With his father occupied, surely for a few minutes, Gator takes the opportunity to approach you. You hang back from your family, eyes wandering to the stained-glass windows that line the walls of the church. How has he never noticed you before? 

“You look bored,” Gator says, coming up from behind you. He startles you, watching your eyes widen when you turn, your gaze lifting to meet his eyes.

“Forgive me, but I don’t find church… stimulating.” You say, re-folding your hands in front of you. You lean against the end of a pew, angling your body towards Gator. You feel pleased, too, when you notice how Gator’s eyes trickle down your body, taking in the shape of your figure. 

Gator chuckles softly, lifting his hands up. “I don’t either but don’t tell my father that.” He lets his body soften, not wanting to show you his sharp edges so soon. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you say, your voice a low hum. Silence lingers between you and Gator, only the sound of the rest of the church mingling filling the gap in your conversation. 

Gator wipes his hand on his pants, then puts it out in front of you. “I’m Gator,” he says with assertiveness. “Gator Tillman.” 

“Well, Gator, Gator Tillman; it’s nice to meet you.” You say teasingly. Already you were intrigued with Gator’s presence, feeling the urge to run your fingertips across the contours of his strikingly gorgeous face. “I’m y/n.” 

Gator cracks a smile, amused with your sense of humor. Gator had grown tired of the girls in Lehigh; bored of their lack of ambition, their inability to be sexually curious. All they did was lay on their backs, legs parted, letting him use their bodies to please himself. Sure, Gator liked the ability to blow off some steam, take time off to do something other than be yelled at by his father or hunt down law-breaking citizens. But he had grown empty and hollow; he wanted something more, something different. 

“Are you new to Lehigh? I don’t think I recognize you and I know everyone in this town.” Gator asks, his curiosity getting the best of him. 

You nod, leaning forward to gently tug down your dress. As you lean forward, the fabric of your dress puckers, allowing for a clear view into the top of your dress. Gator gulps as he catches the sight of your bra-lessness, and the gold cross necklace that rests on your chest, sparkling against the low-lit lights in the church. You straighten your posture, pretending to be oblivious to the stunt you just pulled. A flip of excitement forms in your lower abdomen. “Brand new. My dad was just transferred to the police department here.” 

Gator raises his eyebrows, attempting to ignore the way his chest thumped against his ribs, the bulge he could feel beginning to grow in his pants. “That’s wild, my dad is the police chief in Lehigh.” 

You coo, crossing your arms against your chest. “I knew your last name sounded familiar. So, you’re the bad-boy they told me to stay away from.” 

Gator frowns now, disappointed that you have already been warned against interacting with him. You sense his demeanor change and you’re quick to do damage control. “I’m kidding. Plus, I don’t listen to my parents anyway.” 

Gator bites at his bottom lip, feeling the need to slip his leather jacket off, the heat of the church becoming overbearing. “Do you want to have a smoke? They’re in my truck.” 

You glance towards your parents who are enthralled in an animated conversation with the priest, obviously occupied and unlikely to notice if you disappear for a few minutes. “Sure.” 

The weather outside is frigid, winter approaching at a fast pace. Your bare skin puckers against the cold air, goosebumps forming on your thighs. You follow closely behind Gator as you make your way to his truck. It’s an older model, a deep blue, or is it a dark brown? He opens the passenger side door for you, closing it gently once you’re sitting in the seat. Gator walks around the car, getting into the driver’s seat. He imagines turning the car on, driving you back to his home, fucking you endlessly until you couldn’t walk – but sitting beside you in his car to smoke would have to do for now. 

Gator leans across your body, fumbling with the glove compartment. The small door drops open, a pile of colorful, empty vape cartridges rattle inside. Gator inches closer, allowing the strong scent of his cologne to radiate off of him. Your eyes flutter, suddenly feeling an intense hunger for Gator in your abdomen. You shift in your seat, allowing Gator to access the glove compartment. 

Gator grasps the vape he had been using before he went into church, and hands it to you to use first. In all honesty, you had never smoked or vaped before. Nonetheless, you took the vape from Gator, grasping the neon green cartridge in your hand, bringing it to your lips and then inhaling. The faux smoke fills your lungs, and you cough, eyebrows knitted in disgust as a light watermelon taste fills your throat. You hold your hand out, returning the item back to Gator. 

Gator laughs, watching you cough. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

You shake your head, attempting to smack away the flavor from your mouth. “No.” 

Gator leans against his seat, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress that creeps higher and higher on your thighs with each movement you make. Sitting there in his passenger seat, an innocence radiating off of you that he’s convinced is for show makes him wonder how old you are. “How old are you anyway?” 

You blow out between your lips, staring straight forward, knowing there is no use in attempting to make yourself older – you will always look young and innocent. “Nineteen.” 

Gator whistles, taking a hit from his neon green vape. “We got a young one right here.” 

You give Gator a please don’t look which only makes Gator laugh. “I’m just messin’ with you. It’s not like anyone would call the cops. Hell, I am the cops.” You smile, wishing Gator would skip the playful banter and touch you. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask, choosing to be unaware that this question is random and forward. 

Gator laughs again, shaking his head. Gator, in all his twenty-seven years of life, had never had a girlfriend; he wasn’t the dating type. Though, he doesn’t feel like admitting that to you. “No.” 

You hum, satisfied. You were pent up, your sexual desires beginning to overrule your rationality. You were a good girl, under the watch over your overbearing, strict parents. You were to save your virginity for the man you marry, and because of that, and other temptations that teenagers face, your parents never let you out of their sight. In your old hometown, the boys were similar to trolls, making it easy to stay celibate. Now, however, sitting beside Gator who’s a man, his wandering eye making it obvious that he was attracted to you, you were no longer convinced your virginity belongs to your future husband – it belongs to Gator Tillman. It doesn’t matter to you that you have just met Gator; God may work in mysterious ways, but sexual desire works even more mysteriously. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Gator hears himself ask. His stomach grumbles in anticipation for your answer. He’s pleased when you shake your head no; mostly he’s pleased he doesn’t have to fight another guy to have you for himself. 

“You’re awfully pretty, you know.” Gator says, his hand reaching out to brush his fingertips across your bare and exposed thighs. The feeling of his skin brushing against yours makes your skin shiver, your core tighten with lust. 

“So are you,” you say, you’re voice coming out lower then you anticipated. Your fingertips toy with the hem of your dress, trying to restrain yourself from your temptations. It’s no use though, your desires overcome your attempts to control yourself. 

You lean across the center console of Gator’s truck, holding on to the side of the driver’s seat chair. You break Gator’s personal bubble, though he’s not complaining, and push your lips into his. Gator his quick to let his fingertips intertwine in your hair, bringing you closer to his body. With one hand, he cradles your face, with the other he places on your hip. You sigh softly against his mouth, the taste of his tongue and the flavor of his vape infiltrating your lips. 

Gator’s heart thumps against his chest, your proposition catching him off guard. The feeling of your small body pressed against his, your mouth working in unison with his - he is sure he has entered through gates of heaven. Moving his hand from your hip, he grasps your forearm, pulling you onto his lap. You make stealthy movements to navigate yourself onto his lap, yet in the process your rear end brushes against the horn, causing you to jolt in surprise. You laugh softly against Gator’s mouth, and you can feel a smile forming on his. 

Now placed comfortably on Gator’s lap, your legs straddling him, you cup his face with both of your hands, deepening your kiss. Gator groans softly, and you can feel him growing hard against your bare legs. Oh, how you want him so bad. 

Acting on impulse, Gator lets his hand wander down the length of your body, his fingertips brushing against your panties. You flush feeling his hand against your most sensitive part, wishing you had picked out more grown-up panties that aren’t so frilly. 

The feeling of Gator inching closer to touching you begins to make your nerves fray, your head spin. This is the farthest you’ve ever gone with someone; what will Gator think of your lack of experience? 

Gator is in his own world, unaware of how your body has tensed the second he put his fingers against your panties. He toys with the edge of your underwear, building up the tension before he plunges his digits inside of you. He has a dying ache to know how you’d feel around his fingers, let alone his cock. With one swift movement, he pushes your panties aside, his fingers finding their way into you with ease. Gator can’t help but smile when you gasp sharply, your lips parting from his. Gator moves his fingers in and out of you rhythmically, moans babbling out of you uncontrollably. 

“Such a good girl,” Gator mumbles, feeling how wet you are beneath your panties. Your arousal dribbles down your thighs, down his forearms. He wonders how you taste, how it would feel to have your thighs wrapped around his head. 

You feel your body relax as soon Gator’s fingers enter you, and you feel your body respond to the pleasure by rolling your hips against his hand. You hold onto his shoulders, your head leaning back in bliss. Gator takes the opportunity to kiss the front of your throat, and down your chest, maneuvering around the gold cross that rests against your chest. ‘Lord forgive me,’ he thinks to himself. Gator’s mind flips to all the other ways he could pleasure you, putting the back seats in his truck to good use. 

You are both in your own world together, not noticing that the rest of the church is beginning to file out the front and side of the building. Your eyes have fluttered shut in pleasure, cracking open occasionally to make eye contact with Gator. It’s then that you notice the side door of the church opening and elderly people begin to exit. You gasp loudly, causing Gator to come back to reality. The bulge in his pants aches, his arousal growing stronger.

“Oh no,” you squeak, climbing off of Gator’s lap. Your cunt feels empty without his long and nimble fingers filling you. You want to know what he cock feels like, how large he is; you just know he’s big. You curse in your mind, hoping that you’ll get a second chance to find out soon.

Gator looks in front of him, letting you get off his lap. His eyes grow wide when he sees his father, still deep in conversation, round the front corner of the church. His heart stops, however, when he sees your father standing in the distance, eyes trained on his truck. “Shit, there’s your dad.” 

You look up, your skin beginning to crawl. You quickly re-adjust your clothes and open the passenger door. “I-I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around, Gator.” You offer a small, flushed smile. You feel like you must look stupid, wide-eyed; surely he could sense your inexperience, right? Unbeknownst to you, all Gator can think about is how beautiful you are, the way your blush creeps across the bridge of your nose, the way your eyes glitter against the sun. Gator can’t wait until the next time he can get his hands on you. 

“Hi daddy,” you say, quickening your pace to reach your father. Just in his body language, you can tell you and Gator weren’t so slick in hiding your activities together. Your father had made it very clear that you were to stay away from Gator Tillman. “That boy is trouble, y/n, and so is his father. We must not get wrapped up in their wrongdoings.” Your father had said when you first moved to Lehigh, his words firm. 

“Princess, what were you doing in Gator’s car?” Your father asks, his suspicions clear on his face. He knew from the second he met Gator that he was trouble, the rest of the police squad confirming his assumptions. Seeing you in Gator’s truck, so smitten so quickly, he knows you and he will be trouble if left alone together. 

“We were just praying together, daddy.” You hum, innocently. Your father’s eyes linger on you, his eyebrows knitting together further and further until the creases on his forehead begin to show. He takes in your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, your disheveled dress-straps. He looks until he can’t take it anymore. 

“Say a rosary as soon as you get home.” Your father grumbles, turning around on his heel, hoping the grace of the Lord can guide you in a better direction. You nod, following close behind him silently.

As you follow your father towards your family’s car, you glance over your shoulder, catching Gator’s eyes one last time. 

[hyunverse]

college boyfriend! ☆ stray kids hyung line.

stray kids hyung line x gn! reader. contains: fluff, headcanons. no warnings ahead! disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

BANG CHAN...

majors in music. he's set on being a sound engineer, thus spending hours in the music lab. if he doesn't answer your texts for hours, you know where to find him. just head to the music lab and you'll find him writing lyrics. (that are most likely inspired by you!)

we've all established this but this man overworks, alright. forgets about the concept of time. you'd have to bring him lunch and drag him out by dinner. because if you don't, this man will panic when he sees the clock strike 10 pm and nobody's in the campus. even more panic when he remembers he has an eight a.m class the next day.

god forbid if you're the one studying too much though... not under his watch! he’ll make sure you have all your three meals! remembers your class schedule, even your exam schedule. takes you for rewards after your study sessions. ice cream at the closest froyo store, croffles at the campus cafe... you name it!

your full time driver. he would not let you walk! not under his watch! grocery runs, doctor's appointment, club activity... your faculty is a ten minute walk from your dorm, yet he will insist on driving you to your faculty. if you insist on reducing carbon emissions — he’ll gladly walk with you.

would 100% gift you a bike to go to class with too. chan would do anything in his power to make life easier for you. whether it be driving you anywhere you want, ordering food for you, or even make a doctor’s appointment for you — he does these little things just to ease some burden off you.

he's a great study buddy. you're guaranteed to get your work done with him. he'd slip in encouraging notes between your text book pages, and would grab a quick snack between sessions. if he sees you get too stressed, he'll take your hand and soothingly rub them as he whispers encouraging words.

LEE KNOW...

biggest tease, truly! the kind of boyfriend to stick his tongue out at you when you walk past him in the corridors.

doesn't mean he's not a softie as well! sometimes he’d cook you lunch boxes, especially for the days where you have non stop classes. yes, he loves being a pain in your ass, but he also loves you <3 would do anything to see the joy in your face as he hands you a lunchbox <3

he enjoys doing chores with you. whether it be buying groceries, or doing the laundry at the laundromat, he enjoys having you as company as he does them. it's a sunday routine for the two of you to get groceries together, then do your laundry. the day ends with him making dinner for the two of you.

minho would take you on walks, in pursuit of stray cats. he'd bring some treats along, and feed any strays you both find in the neighbourhood. this happens so often, that the neighbourhood ladies have grown fond of the two of you!

overtime, you'd end up adopting a cat with him. it just couldn't be helped! the sweet kitten keeps on following the two of you... how could minho not take it home? lets you name the cat just to see you happy.

also i feel like he'd get twitter just to slander you. picture this, you wake up on a random day and see a twitter notification. turns out it's just your boyfriend mentioning you in a tweet that says something like, "y/n stinks." it's fun to him.

occasionally tags you in pictures of cats and bunnies though.

SEO CHANGBIN...

such a dependable boyfriend, truly.

car broke down? call him, he'll know what to do. forgot to print out your assignments? e-mail him the file and sit tight, he'll print them out for you. the sink is leaking? he knows who to call. he's a dependable boyfriend, willing to do anything for you.

though dependable, he absolutely loves being babied. finds the most comfort in holding you.

just finished class? he's calling for u to come over and cuddle. he just got back from the gym? going straight to your dorm to cuddle. he is touch starved and you need to entertain him.

takes you out for shopping sprees! it's okay if your money is tight for the month, his credit card exists for a reason. for you to abuse of course! if you refuse, he'll say that it's reward for studying today.

sometimes you'll randomly receive a package by the door and it's from him. your eyes would linger at an item for a second longer and he'd immediately buy it and have it sent to you.

he's the type of person to visit his family every weekend. no, you won't find him in his dorm on a saturday. he had most likely drove to his parents' for the weekend. overtime, when you get more serious in your relationship, he'd take you to his weekly visits home.

brings you to his mama and would adoringly watch you cook with her.

if there's a weekend he comes home and you don't, his mother will literally ask for you. so you might as well just visit every weekend!

it's okay because weekends spent at his = less money to spend on food.

HWANG HYUNJIN...

roommates to lovers trope

how could he not fall in love with you, his roommate who’s so sweet, and so caring?

a shy boyfriend, yet he doesn't shy away from little gestures of affection in public! holds your hand as you stroll, also fond of putting his hand in your back pocket. he'd happily wait by your lecture hall, a cup of your favourite drink in hand. imagine him in a varsity jacket, hair a little messy, leaning against the wall as he waits for you to finish your lecture. as soon as he spots you, you’d see his eyes turn just a little brighter, and his smile growing a tad bit bigger.

memorizes your schedule by heart. him texting: “you in economics right now? it ends in ten minutes, right? i’ll bring your favourite drink <3” is a normal occurence.

all of your friends adore him. how could they not? he’s shy, respectful, and treats you well. buys you flowers for no reason. you’ll come home and see a bouquet of fresh flowers in a vase, with a cute little note from him <3 would doodle in the note too hehe.

impromptu dates, always! he’d wake you up from a nap and show you that he already set up an indoors picnic. a blanket sprawled in the living room, with your favorite snacks lined up. brings you to a flower field he discovered on a random monday, after class.

hyunjin's the type of boyfriend that would walk around with you, in search of new places you can call your spot. so far, he has three “our spot”, them being a flower field, a cafe that’s a hidden gem, and a secluded table by a window in the college library.

shares his clothes with you. you share a house together, might as well just mix the laundry and freely use each other’s clothes! pull up to college in a sweatshirt of his, and he’ll coo and call you his sweet angel. still gets butterflies every time he sees you in his clothes!! which is pretty much everyday!! still!! he thinks you look so cute in them.

if your jackets don’t fit him, he’ll just tie them around his waist. just wants a piece of you with him, really.

he’s an art major. you’re consistently his subject of art, especially when the assignment is a portrait! uses his assignments as an excuse to paint you. the reward is kisses.

listening to music together in the train to campus. one earbud in his ear, another in yours. you two thrive in comfortable silence, just leaning against each other as soft music plays in your ears.

slow dancing sessions to relieve stress. just swaying with him in the living room, the sound of your giggles filling in the atmosphere.

taglist (send an ask to be added/removed!) : @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @bakugossanity , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs , @bbujiikseu , @byjeekies , @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @strayingawayy , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16

disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

[itsohh]

Despite Part 2

A/N: Female reader, posted on mobile so rip formatting.

Summary: Trust is a two way bond. It only makes sense that after you look after him he looks after you.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2218

AO3 Part 1 Part 3

A light touch shook you awake and your eyes crept open. It took you a few moments to realise who had woken you. “Not very professional to be sleeping at your desk, Doctor.” Your head rose from your arms and you turned to look at your Captain. Your brow cocked and his words slowly sunk it. The gears moved in your brain and you figured out he was teasing you. Wesker of all people…

“Well, it's not very professional to show up at your employee's house uninvited.”

“Redfield insisted.”

“I didn't realise you took orders from Chris now.”

“You were unresponsive while on call, it was a wellness check.” Those sunglasses bore into you and you rolled your eyes to the side. There was a small side smile on your face, the motion hadn’t been a disrespectful one but rather a playful one. 

“Alright. Sir.”

“Are you planning on sleeping here all night?” He asked. 

“No, I was just resting my eyes. What time is it?” You looked towards the computer that was in screensaver mode and moved the mouse. It woke and you saw that it was only an hour til midnight. You cursed under your breath, so much for just resting your eyes. “I'm surprised you're still here.”

“I had work to do.”

“Everyone's doing their reports tomorrow.”

“I had other work as well as the reports. I don't have the luxury of pushing it off until tomorrow as I won't be in.”

Your brows shot up. “Oh? Busy?”

“Sunday is my day off.”

“You have days off?” 

The question had him let out a laugh and your breath hitched at the sound. It was an unheard-of sound, a low chuckle that had blood rush to your face and heat it up. “Of course. Did you assume I worked every day?”

“Well, you’re the Captain. So yeah.”

“Overworking can lead to mistakes. I do not make mistakes. I thought you of all people would under this, Doctor.”

“Who keeps this place from falling apart without you?” 

“Marini can manage for one day of the week.” 

Your mind went to the Bravo team’s Captain. Despite him working in the same department, you often forget the man was a police Captain. Wesker was the one with the ‘fancy’ office, he was the one to usually call the shots and he was the one you looked to for direction when needed. Not Marini, but then again, you didn't interact with the man very much. 

“Have you finished your work?” Wesker asked and you glanced back at the computer. 

“Yeah, I just need to turn it off.” You moved the mouse to it shutdown. 

“Good, we can leave then.”

You froze for a moment before you glanced over your shoulder and looked at him. “We?” You asked. 

“Unless you have other plans I presume I was to give you a ride home.”

“Oh, Captain, you don't have to do that.”

“You rode with us to the station, your bike is at home. It's far too late for a taxi or the bus and you live on the other side of town. You're my employee, it's my job to take care of you.”

His words had you stunned momentarily. Even though he said the facts in such an obvious manner you couldn't help the way that they made you feel warm inside. It was nice knowing he was looking out for you. 

“I guess you're right. You really thought this through, thanks.”

“If this is your standard of thinking things through then I suggest against spending so much time with Redfield. The bar is too low.” He took a step back from your desk and gave you enough room to get out of the chair. 

You let out a snort and put on your jacket. Your vest and medical kit had long since been retired to their homes elsewhere in the building. “Did Chris tell you where I lived?” You asked as the pair of you walked together. 

“No, it's in your file.”

“You looked up my address in my file?”

“I memorise everyone's files. They aren't long.”

Your mind went back to when you were in his office with Chris and how he almost immediately knew whose number Chris had paged. “Wow, you have a great memory.”

“The small things make all the difference between life and death.”

The statement had you sombre up slightly and you looked towards the ground. You knew that painfully well. Recognising and remembering even the smallest of symptoms could mean the entire world of difference when it came to what treatment a person received. 

“Hey, Captain?” 

“Yes?” 

“Why did you take this job?”

At your question, he briefly glanced at you. “Why do you ask?”

“No offence but I would expect you to be something… more?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards you. “You believe this work is beneath me?”

“I mean uh-” You stumbled for a moment to recover yourself. “You're a smart man Wesker. Really smart. Hell, you're more precise and perfect than a machine. I mean I get paid my value but this work is hard sometimes. Long hours, the shittiest cases and a world of accountability and pressure. Someone with your skills could easily find employment somewhere easier with better pay.”

Wesker continued to stare at you. It was as if he was trying to figure out if your words were genuine or if you were just sucking up to him. You knew better than to try and correct yourself more, the last thing you wanted to do was overthink the situation and say something you would regret. Every second was agonizingly slow and eventually, he cocked his head slightly to the side, his deduction complete enough to answer. 

“You’re right. I could. And I probably will eventually but for now it's the exact fulfilment I need.”

The answer had you slowly nod and he returned his own question. “Why do you ask? Are you thinking about leaving?”

“No, just interested in what motivates my Captain.”

Despite the fact he stood still you could have sworn the lights got a little darker around him as he continued to look at you. “And why is that?”

“Finding out someone's core values is integral to any relationship. For example, Jill respects determination. If she's had anything near to close to what I experienced being a woman in this day and age I can safely bet she's been given a lot of hurdles in life and most likely given where she is today, overcome them.”

“You think a lot about this.” 

“Understanding my team helps me bond with them and bonding creates trust. In the field, I need my team to completely trust me without a doubt so I can do what I need to do without hesitation.” You explained. 

“I see. You analyse people. Why not analyse myself to find out the answers to your questions?”

“I have. I'm not sure if you have noticed but you're rather a closed-off person. Not only with your private life, which I respect, but also for who you are. Sometimes the best approach to a matter is the more straightforward one. If you answer me, I receive an answer, if you don't…”

“You continue to watch me?” His voice sounded almost amused. “Wait for any slip-up?”

“No. I'd respect you on the matter and let things go.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I'm a reasonable woman Captain, I’m not stubborn when I don't need to be. I can respect a boundary.” You smiled at the man and for a second you could have sworn his lips curled ever so slightly. 

Wesker turned and started to walk again and you followed his pace. “What motivates me is humanity.” He spoke a few moments later as the pair of you left the building. The nightsky shone above the pair of you, illuminated by the giant moon above. 

“Humanity?” 

“I wish to see humanity evolve. We have a lot of potential as a species and I would see that potential fulfilled.”

The wording of his statement was a little strange to you and your pressed your lips together while you tried to figure out his exact meaning. 

“Is that why studied biotechnology. It's in your file.” 

“You looked up my qualifications in my file?” He asked, his words parroting your own. 

“I may not memorize everything in people's medical files but I do and try to memorize the important things. Yours is rather interesting.”

“How so Doctor?”

“No allergies, no disabilities, no long term injuries. Nothing. No offense but your kind of a freak of nature especially how quickly you heal.” 

Wesker let out a loud chuckle and the pair of you reached his BMW. “Freak of nature?” 

“In a good way, I promise.” His lips curled upwards at your reassurance but you only got to bask in it for a moment as he unlocked the car with the turn of his key. You pulled open the front passenger car door and stepped into the car. “Spacious.” You praised the car and looked around it. It was immaculate. Clean and neat just like everything else about Wesker. 

You did your belt up and heard the click of Wesker do the same before he turned the key in the ignition. The car immediately hummed to life without hesitation and the lights soon flicked on. 

Your eyes couldn't help but focus on the way that his hands handled the steering wheel. The veins on them were rather predominant and you pressed your lips together. They would be so easy to take blood from. You shouldn't have been surprised at the size of them, he was a big man, yet you were slightly. Never had you really focused on them before. 

“More questions Doctor?” He asked without turning to face you, his gaze still on the road as he pulled out from the car park. No doubt he could feel your heavy gaze. 

“Not at the moment. I do appreciate you not making a fuss about…” You swallowed and looked away from the man. “What I do in my spare time.”

“What or who you spend time with is non of my concern so long as it doesn't affect your performance at work. From the way you worked today I can confidently assess that it doesn't.” Wesker paused for a few seconds. “Should we allocate two more seats for the Christmas party?” 

At his question you choked and your head snapped towards the man. His lips were curled in the corners and he glanced towards you. Tease. 

“No, no, gods no. It's not like that. We aren't in a relationship or anything. Casual thing. I didn't know we were going to have an office Christmas party. Didn't think you would be for them.”

“I'm not.” He sighed. “But Redfield and Frost have been adamant that it's necessary.” 

A groan escaped your lips which made him chuckle. 

“My thoughts exactly.” 

“It's not compulsory is it?” You asked. 

“It will be held during work hours. Any proper work will take priority.”

“Never thought I'd say this but please assign me to any emergency that pops up.”

“Not a fan?”

“I don't drink in my spare time, let alone with co-workers. They didn't mention anything about a secret Santa did they?”

“They did and have been persistent about the matter. I have been against the matter.”

“Captain please be the biggest killjoy you can possibly be.”

He let out a loud laugh, one that had all words die on your tongue. It had that warmth return to you but instead of flooding your face it grew in your chest and you practically basked in it. 

“You don't like exchanging gifts?”

“Our team is very good at what we do, we work together well as a team and I respect everyone. Doesn't mean I want to extend that relationship to anything more. For most of the people at our work I would very much enjoy keeping the relationship the way it is.”

“Most?” He caught your wording. 

“Despite my efforts Chris has managed to wormed his way into my personal life and sometimes I don't dislike it. Other than that? I think you're the exception I admit. You're an interesting man.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

The car pulled up outside your apartment complex and you were a little surprised. The streets had been empty but you didn't notice how quickly the pair of you had arrived. Did Wesker speed? You couldn't feel the speed very much in the car, the ride had been soft and comfortable the entire time. 

“Would you like me to walk you to your door?”

“There's no need, I've taken up enough of your time.” You opened the car door and got out. The sound of Wesker's window opened. When you got around to his side of the car and on the footpath on the other side of the road you turned to face the man. The road wasn't very wide, it was more of a thin driveway than a proper road. 

“Thanks again for the ride.”

“No need. Our conversation has been enlightening. I'd enjoy furthering it sometime even with a different subject.”

“Yeah, that would be nice. Oh and Wesker?”

“Yes?”

“Enjoy your day off.”

[marmie-noir]

Cabaret, Confessions, and Curses

TW: Smut, swearing, Mitch Keller being dressed up and looking good. Per usual no proof read so forgive any silly goofy things pls!

It felt like yesterday when we finally had claimed our peace. There had been a lot of work to do after but it had been so worth it. Every project came with it’s own reward, every long day ending with the knowledge that we were working towards our future. Which, most importantly, was about us being together. 

Since the shootout Mitch had been hesitant to let me out of his sight for a bit. I couldn’t tease him, I’d been the same. We’d been glued at the hip for weeks, the two of us doing everything together from meeting with contractors to approving interior design choices, to filling out paperwork to file with the state to make everything look crystal clean as far as the government was concerned. 

We had our fun too, weekends away and time away from the bar. Pops had harassed us enough to get out of the house and go ‘be young people’, the two of us going to a music festival a few towns over and getting drunk on cheap wine, dancing under the stars with a field full of other people. It was all like a dream, and it had all come down to this. 

I looked at myself in the mirror once more, fingers fiddling with the necklace I had picked. I heard Ann huff next to me and I glanced over with a little frown. “You look perfect, Sunny! C’mon!” She said, grinning at me. 

“You didn’t see Mitch before he left.” I muttered, reaching down to smooth the skirt of my dress. I’d picked something pretty, the cut of the front lower than I normally preferred, the back of it too, but when I’d seen it in the shop last time Ann dragged me out shopping I had wanted it. It was a pretty shade of green that looked nice against my skin and with my hair, making my eyes pop too after Ann had done her voodoo girl magic to make them seem more vibrant. One day I’d have her teach me, but for now I enjoyed having her handle it, the bonding experience something I’d never had with someone else. 

Mitch had left hours ago, getting all dressed up himself in a Western style shirt and a nice pair of jeans, even had a new pair of boots he’d prepped and waxed before going out. I’d practically drooled when he’d come to give me a kiss goodbye. “Come in a few hours, spend some time with Ann, get all dolled up. I’ll handle all the bullshit that always goes wrong on the first night of opening, darlin’. You just enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it.” He’d said, not letting me drag him to the bedroom for a quickie with how good he’d looked. It’d been half touched, half frustrated. 

“And he’s gonna sing tonight.” I said, giving a little spin in my mirror, looking at the way the skirts shifted as I moved. I looked good, really good. “Ann, it’s disgustingly unfair how hot he is.” “Girl, are we looking in the same mirror?” Ann asked, stopping next to me, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “You are looking so fine right now, don’t even. C’mon, get your cute butt into gear, we gotta go see your man. And I wanna check out my new job.” As promised all the employees from Bred-2-Buck would still be employed. But Mitch had been very firm when he’d told everyone that tonight they wouldn’t not be working, they would be enjoying the new place. Even Charlie had accepted, and I was looking forward to seeing the old man show up in his Sunday best. 

Ann drove us to the bar and we didn’t have any issues finding parking, seeing as there was employee parking in a well lit part of the new parking lot, Mitch having that be part of the changes. Safety for his employees. We walked up, spotting Fred acting as bouncer at the front door. 

He perked up, grinning at the two of us. I leaned in, returning his hug and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling back to step in as Ann chatted him up. She liked to flirt with Fred, he got shy and stuttery around her in the sweetest way. 

It was beautiful. The lighting was a reddish tint and everything was new and spotless. Pale colored couches lined the walls, round tables filling up the middle with a spot left open before the new stage for a dance floor. The place was packed except for a few tables near the front and everyone was having a great time eating, drinking, and laughing. Spotting some more familiar faces my smile grew and I made my way towards the front spotting Bohdi and Grace, who I pulled into a hug. She looked stunning, wrapped in a pale bodycon dress, her smile sincere. Clint walked up with another round of drinks and I gave him a side hug too. 

“This is insane! It’s so full!” I said, grinning at them as I slid my hands down the back of my thighs as I sat, making sure my skirt didn’t get too wrinkled. Turning towards the stage I felt my body freeze in reaction, eyes widening as I made eye contact with Mitch. “God damn.” I whispered, causing Ann and Grace to laugh. 

He looked as good as I remembered from a few hours ago, except now he had a few of his top buttons undone. He hadn’t even worn a hat tonight, his hair combed back, a few strands falling across his forehead as he moved slightly while singing, rocking as he played the guitar and sang with that grin on his face. Now, I was no groupie, but a girl could only handle so much. Grace said something but I couldn’t hear her, just going “Mhm.” As I blinked up at Mitch. He smirked, shooting me a wink before scanning across the room. Always the boss it seemed. 

“Grace said Dwight was at the bar if you want to say hi.” Ann said, reaching over to give my thigh a squeeze, making me jump slightly. I blushed at being caught oogling Mitch so obviously. Refocusing on her I reached up to brush some of my hair from my face, giving her a little nod. “Yeah, I will in a minute.” 

The song wrapped up and I clapped with everyone else. Mitch straightened, adjusting the guitar strap as he wrapped his free hand around the mic stand with that same pearly smile. He looked so happy, he looked so good, so in his element. It made my heart ache with happiness a little bit. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if I could have your attention please?” He said, the band winding down the song behind him as he looked into the crowd. I crossed my legs, intent on hearing what he had to say. 

“As many of ya’ll know, we just got our license.” He gestured to the back room which was now filled with card tables and slot machines. The gambling license had been a longer process than anticipated but it hadn’t been overly difficult thankfully. “And I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome you all to the future home of the Bred-2-Buck Cabaret and Casino!” I let out a cheer and clapped, everyone else joining in. It felt good to have our friends here, the people who had become near and dear to my heart filling the space. 

“Now, none of this would be possible without without the support of my partners, in particular Mr. Dwight Manfredi.” He said, gesturing towards the bar. I turned in my seat, spotting the familiar gray head of hair next to his daughter who I’d recently met. I cupped my hands around my mouth and let out a cheer before clapping. Dwight had grown on me slower than Mitch, but after what he did for us? He was alright in my books, closer to family than I’d like to admit. 

Dwight gave a little wave, looking pleased with himself and not a bit shy. “And I’d also like thank the one who got me through the long hours of paperwork and the frustrations of interior design,” He said, voice dropping low like it was some sort of horror. It garnered some laughter but he didn’t stop. “My rock, my girl, Sunny.” 

I smiled so wide my cheek hurt. I covered my lower face, blushing and shaking my head as Ann reached over to pat at my shoulder, Grace letting out a whooping cheer that had me batting at her with a laugh. Once the clapping and cheers died down he continued on, practically glowing. “Now, I’m going to be taking a short break from being the entertainment tonight to enjoy myself, but I’ll be back in no time. But please give a warm welcome to Malcom and the Bonefish.” He stepped aside as another man stepped forward, apparently part of the band he’d hired for opening night. People clapped once more as the music started up. Mitch handed off his guitar and stepped off the stage, one hand sliding through his hair as he said something to a worker before heading over towards me. I hopped up, all but throwing myself into his open arms. He let out a quiet laugh, giving me a good squeeze before pulling back to look me over. “And I thought you couldn’t get any prettier.” He said, taking my hand and giving me a little spin with that smile that had a heat burning in my lower stomach. I squeezed his hand back and pulled him towards the dance floor where a few other couples were swaying, wanting to get a dance in with him on one of the most important nights. “Hush, I just had to match how handsome you look.” I said, reaching up to lace my fingers together behind his neck. His hands found my hips, the two of us leaning in and swaying to the music. It wasn’t exactly a slow song so we didn’t move slow, but it wasn’t something we should be swinging around to. It was perfect like everything else had been today. “Mitch, it looks amazing.” I said, grinning up at him. He nodded, glancing up for a moment to take in the room before meeting my eyes once more. “Should. You picked everything out.” “Not everything.” I said with a laugh, making him grin a little wider. “You picked out some stuff too.” “Mhm, but the important stuff is all you, darlin’. Don’t forget that.” He said, hands moving to my lower back, pressing gently to ensure I was pressed up tightly against him. I went willingly, the music perfect. I let out a happy sigh, relaxing against his taller form. “Like I’d let you forget that.” I teased, fingers playing with a few strands of his hair at the base of his neck. Mitch leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before pulling back. I wanted more, and I had already crafted a plan to get what I wanted a few days ago when I’d seen that new desk get carted into his office. Sturdy, hardwood, looking like it should be in a lawyers office. “I’ve got a surprise for you if you can spare fifteen minutes.” “Fifteen minutes for my girl? Easy.” He said, pulling back to find my hand once more. “Lead the way, pretty girl.” The name brought butterflies to my stomach and I shot Ann a wink as I lead Mitch away. She knew my plan, I’d confessed it when we had been getting ready. I lead Mitch down the hallway towards his office, sneaking a glance back at him to catch his heated expression. Opening his office door I closed it behind us, letting go of his hand to walk over to the desk. I perched myself on top of the cool hardwood, leaning back to pop open the top drawer. I pulled the picture frame out, and then grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey I’d bought with Dwight’s guidance. Setting the bottle down next to my thigh I held the frame out to Mitch with a grin, gesturing he take it. He did, stepping closer, flipping it over. Mitch was silent a few moments before he looked at me, surprising me by being slightly emotional. There was a sheen to his eyes I’d never seen before. “I’m gonna confess, darlin’. When you pulled me in here I thought I was going to be breaking in the new desk. Didn’t think you’d be getting me all misty eyed.” He said, giving me a softer smile and looking back at the picture. 

It was a picture I’d taken awhile ago, a few weeks after starting to work for Mitch. I had insisted Ann snap a picture of myself, Mitch, and Pops. Had claimed it was for me, admitted guilted them a bit. It had turned out great, the old interior of the bar obvious in the photo, my cheesy grin with Mitch laughing, and Pops cracking a half smile for the picture because Ann had asked sweetly.I had it sized up and put into a nice frame for him to put wherever he wanted it.  

“I got a few other shots of the bar I took before we- well, blew it up.” I said with a little shrug, reaching out to hook my fingers in his belt loops to pull him closer between my spread thighs. “Confession time for me as well, I was really hoping you’d fuck me on the new desk also. Think of it as a two parter.”

Mitch let out a genuine laugh, setting the photo down on the desk to instead grab my face. He tilted my chin up, leaning down to press his lips to mine, smiling still. I knew I was smiling too, arching up to kiss him back, the taste of the drink he must have had earlier a little burn against my tongue as it dipped between his lips.  

“Been thinkin’ about you all pretty on this desk since they brought it in.” Mitch breathed out against my lips as his hands moved to my thighs, sliding up under my dress as he leaned in closer to grind against me. He felt good, already half hard in his jeans, the cool metal of his belt buckle obvious through the thin material of my dress. “Oh, my too. I miss the old desk but this one will do.” I teased, nipping at his bottom lip as I reached for his buckle, needing him. I’d been wet since seeing him on stage, my body immediately reacting to seeing that smile for me as he sang. Mitch Keller was like a drug and I was addicted because no matter how much I touched and tasted him I always came back for more. 

Mitch made a noise that was all masculine amusement, his big hands giving the fat of my thighs a squeeze before dipping between them. The rings on his fingers were cool too and I whined, thighs spreading a bit more out of habit, undoing the jingling belt buckle and working on his pants next. As I undid his pants he hooked his fingers around my panties and pulled them down, dropping the red lace on the desk next to me. The thin scrap of fabric had him raising a brow, giving me a sly smile. “Well now, someone was planning this.” He said, one of his big hands pressing against my cunt, blunt fingertips finding how wet I was with a little groan in the back of this throat. “Really planning this.” 

“I did say it was a surprise.” I breathed out. With the help of his free hand he opened his pants, my hands greedily dipping in and pushing them down enough to free his now fully hard cock. “The bra matches, you can see it later.” “Fucking- you are going to be the end of me.” He said with a smile, hand wrapping around mine at the base of his cock, giving himself a slow pump that had me rocking my hips against his hand between my thighs. “I need you now.” I said, looking up at him. So fucking handsome, especially when his blue eyes went dark with want, the two of us wrapped up in one another. Inseparable on a base level that would terrify me if it was anyone else but strong, sturdy Mitch. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” He said, two fingers pushing into my slick pussy. I whined, clenching around him, head tipped back to look up at him. “Y’get so tight, baby.” “Won’t hurt me, want it.” I demanded as firmly as I could while suppressing a moan as he hooked his fingers just right, rubbing at the spot inside me his long frustratingly talented fingers always seemed to find. “Please, Mitch. Fuckin’ please.” He bit out a curse, his hand leaving me and having me feel empty once more. I leaned back on my elbows, arching my hips up so he could push my skirt to my waist, leaning in to grind his hard cock against where I wanted him more. He hit my clit, the friction making me take in a sharp inhale, nipples pebbling behind my sheer bra and showing through the thin dress. 

My legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, needing him inside of me. There was an underlying desperation, a desire, the ache he created deep inside me only something he could soothe. “Please.” I whined once more as he pulled his hips back slightly to slot himself in place. Mitch leaned forward and captured my lips in a heated kiss as he sunk into me, pushing each thick inch into me slowly until his hips were pressed flush against mine. My thighs immediately tightened around his middle as I moaned into the kiss, lips parting under his as he fucked into me with slow, firm strokes, his tongue tasting between my lips at the same time. 

He was big and thick in the perfect way, and I was soaked for him already, each stroke easy. “So good for me.” He ground out, big hands moving to under my knees, using his hold to push my legs up towards my chest. It changed the angle, letting him slide in easier, each thrust pushing him deeper. It was so good my eyes nearly rolled back. 

“Fuck, I’m so lucky.” Mitch’s voice was rough, almost like how it sounded in the morning when I kissed him awake. I wanted to tell him I was the lucky one, I was the one who was winning, a little cock drunk and delusionally happy. But words had left me and I whined, nodding as he continued to thrust. He didn’t let up, setting a fast pace. 

“M’not gonna last.” I confessed, clenching around him when he bottomed out again, grinding so that his pelvis put the most delicious friction on my clit. “‘Specially if you do that.” 

“Me either.” He said, hands sliding up my calves to hook my ankles over his shoulders. He was so deep it was like he was fucking the breath out of my lungs but in the best possible way, my own arousal making the slap of skin on skin sinfully wet. With his hands now free he reached between us. But instead of going right for my clit like he normally did he pressed on my lower stomach lightly. It had me nearly choking on my own gasped breath, the force of his hand making sure that every stroke of his cock hit right where I needed, bullying my g-spot mercilessly. “Fuck-, Mitch.” I choked out, reaching out to grip the edge of the desk as well near the top of my head. His free hand found one of mine, lacing our fingers together, pinning my hand against the wood. His other, on my stomach, was of course long enough to use his thumb to flick at my clit as he fucked me harder and faster. He had me practically bent in half but I didn’t care, the position letting him sink in deeper and faster, pressing in so deep I saw stars. 

“Please please please.” I panted out with each clap of our hips, squeezing our interlaced hands, looking up into his pretty blue eyes. More hair had fallen in his face but it looked good. He gave a little nod, adding a little roll to his hips to grind where I needed him. “C’mon baby, give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel, hm? Wanna see you come undone on my desk so I can think of your perfect pussy every time I sit down to do paperwork.” He growled out, hips never slowing. It was too much and I fell apart under him, my own free hand clasping over my parted lips as I let out a cry. I came hard, clenching around him tightly. I made a noise that I was sure was a porno level moan but all sound had become muffled except the sharp breaths Mitch was taking above me, his own movements becoming sloppy as he chased his own high. “That’s it, that’s my pretty girl, fucking look at you baby. Christ, that’s it. Take it, know you can, know you want to.” He said, deep voice more like a growl in my ear as I nodded at him, hand leaving my mouth as I panted and whimpered. 

The familiar warmth bloomed in my lower stomach and he groaned, head hanging and resting his forehead on mine as he came hard. I echoed the sound, my free hand moving to cup the back of his neck, chin tilting up to capture his lips in a slow heated kiss. He ground against me but didn’t move anymore than that, firmly as deep as he could get. After a few moments Mitch broke the kiss, panting but grinning. I mirrored his expression, letting out a little laugh as he slowly leaned back and let my legs down off his shoulders, his hands massaging at my hips as they were rather stiff from the position. “Shit- I don’t want to ruin your pretty dress.” He said, ready to pull out but hesitating because we’d certainly made a mess. I let out another laugh, gesturing to the side where the cubbies were rebuilt into the wall. “I put some towels in here.” I said, hand falling limp onto the cool surface of the desk. He leaned down to give me another quick kiss before slowly pulling out, both of us making a sound at the overstimulation before he grabbed the towels to gently work on cleaning me up. The two of us straightened one another up and I fixed my hair in the little mirror next to the door, pleased to find Ann’s make up wasn’t really smudged because she used some professional level setting spray. We ended up perched on the edge of the desk, thighs pressed together, as he cracked open the bottle of whiskey. I leaned on his arm but accepted the bottle, taking a small sip and proud that I didn’t even pull a face. “Well,” I said, handing him back the bottle. “We did it Mitch. A full bar, people having a good time, and you even have a stage. A real stage. I’m proud of you.” He set the bottle down, arm wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me close. His free hand tipped my chin up to meet his eyes. I gave him a smile, content and happy, pleased that this was how life was going to be. “I love you.” Mitch spoke softly, thumb brushing over my bottom lip. I blinked, wondering if I’d misheard him. After a few heartbeats I melted. “I love you too.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” “Good. Think you might be stuck now, darlin’. Stuck here, stuck with me.” He said, voice still that same soft tone that made me want to wrap myself up in him. “Oh no, not here at the bar that is my home with my insanely hot boyfriend. God, some people have no luck.” I teased, giving his thigh a squeeze. He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine when someone knocked on the door. The two of us didn’t pull away but we did turn to look at the door. “Yeah?” He called out, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Mitch, it’s Dwight.” I recognized Fred’s voice. “He stepped outside to talk to some woman who asked for him and he’s been arrested. Cristina isn’t doing well, and we have no idea what is going on.” 

“God fucking damnit.”

More Mitch and Sunny here

Well, here it is. I might post some random things from the three month break between the shootout and the opening of the new Bred-2-Buck, but for this season that is a wrap. I really love Sunny, thank you everyone who bothered to read my brainrot inspired little fit that was supposed to be 5 chapters long and melted into this. Ily all!!

[foreverrandomwritings]

Hi again! I have another request for your celebration! How about do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are? (2) and resting your head gently on their shoulder (1) with Bob Floyd? 💙❤️

Happy Birthday

Summary: 2 prompts from my mini celebration. This is also a gift for @wkndwlff thank you for being such an awesometastic person!💙🥳

Pairing:Robert “Bob” Floyd x Fiancé!Reader

Warnings:Fluff, drinking(all of age), illusions to smut if you squint and I think that’s it. Kinda 18+

Wordcount:1483

Masterlist

Bob had had this whole week planned out down to every last detail. Your birthday was something he took very seriously. Unfortunately he had missed your last birthday due to a deployment. So he made sure to make up for it this year. He had just gotten back from a deployment and was on the last week of a 3 week leave. So he didn't need to worry about getting time off. He had made sure you had off work for the week as well. Though being an author between books you could make your own schedule. 

You and Bob had doordashed food from your favorite restaurant deciding to stay in and watch X-Files per your usual Sunday night routine. When Bob had asked you to answer the door you hadn’t thought much of it thinking it was your food. When you opened the door to see your best friend standing on your doorstep with a suitcase you were shocked. Throwing yourself at her she barely caught you in a tight hug. Thankful she had worn shoes with good traction. After a minute you pulled back with your hands on her shoulders, mouth wide. 

“Are you just going to leave me standing here or are you going to invite me in?” She had asked you, a smile breaking out across her face. Ushering her in you went back to the living room sitting down on the couch with your Fiance. 

“How in the world did you get here?” You asked her, the surprise still evident in the way you were staring at her. She shrugged her shoulders glancing at the man sitting next to you. That had you turning your head to look at him. “Bobby, did you fly her here?” You asked him sweetly though you already knew the answer. His blue eyes shined under his government appointed glasses. A blush worked its way onto his face under your lovestruck gaze. 

“I knew how much you guys missed each other darlin. Those facetime calls just weren’t cutting it anymore so I figured I’d bring her out here to spend some time with you.” He told you his country drawl was thick from the short time he had spent at home. You felt an overwhelming rush of happiness take over you. “I got the whole week planned for us. There will be a few days that'll be just us and some just you two.”  

“What’re you going to do on the days you aren’t with Bob and I?” You asked your best friend. The worry of her just sitting around while out here worrying you. 

“Bobby boy's front seater is going to take me sightseeing.” She said with a reassuring smile on her face. You turned to Bob at that response, giving him a look. The two of you knew that they would be perfect together and had been trying to figure out a way to set them up. You were going to speak up but the doorbell rang before you could. This time Bob got up laying a hand on your knee as he did it, giving it a light squeeze as he passed you. 

“I got food for all of us, don't worry.” His blue eyes meeting your own. The rest of the night was very relaxing. You guys ate and joked around and watched X-Files. As the hands on the clock moved closer to 1am the three of you decided to retreat for the night. Bob carried the suitcase to the guest room. While the two of you cleaned up from dinner. Laying in bed that night you thanked Bob repeatedly before drifting off to sleep excited for the week ahead. 

🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

The week flew by in a swirl of surprises and happiness. Monday morning you woke up to flowers and a note from Bob telling you that he got you and your best best friend reservations at the fancy brunch place in town. The two of you got up and made your way there. The restaurant was amazing and had a delicious dye free sangria. Then the two of you went to the aquarium that wasn’t far from the restaurant. 

Your actual birthday was spent with Bob, the morning was simple, laying in bed lazy kisses shared. Sweet words of love whispered between touches. He had found an art exhibit that he knew you would be interested in, the inspiration was John Pollock. Then the two of you would cook dinner at home. He had planned a nice chicken parmesan pasta dish paired with a bottle of your favorite wine. 

Wednesday consisted of you, Bob, your best friend and Phoenix going on a hike. Luckily it was an overcast day and the weather wasn’t terrible so you spent the whole day on trails. A competitive game of hide and seek took place. Bob of course won, the man was a stealth pilot. The occasional snack break was taken and loads of polaroids were snapped. 

Your favorite day however was Thursday. Bob and you slept in, once you woke up you had both made breakfast and Bob gave you a gift. He bought you both a set of legos. So the two of you set up shop in the living room huddled around the coffee table with music flowing in the background. The both of you had to take a break at one point. Bob had been biting his lip in concentration on a difficult part of the Legos. There was no way you were keeping your hands to yourself with the way his tongue dipped out of his mouth and soothed the area he was previously biting. 

Friday went smoothly, your best friend was meant to fly out the next night so you spent the morning with her at the beach. Then you and Bob went to go and see a movie before heading back home. Phoenix had called Bob and asked if he could come and get them from the Hard Deck. She was having car troubles and Rooster had already left with some random air bunny that made her way into the bar. The both of you had agreed to get her and your best friend. 

Pulling up to the bar it wasn’t as packed as it normally was and the two of you decided to go in and grab a drink with the group. As you reached the doors you noticed that it was pretty quiet inside the bar. But for some reason you didn’t question it and opened the doors. 

“SURPRISE!!!” was belted out from the group inside under the “Happy 28th” banner hung up from the ceiling. Then you were swarmed by people. Pats on the backs, high fives, envelopes and a couple small gifts pushed into your hands. There was a blur of dancing and singing and drinking. They had a competition to see who could tell the best dad joke, Javy had won. Bob had finally found an allergy inclusive baker who focused on baked goods void of specified allergens. He had ordered a cake, cupcakes and cookies. 

As the celebrations died down Bob had dragged you out to the beach. Laying down on one of the blankets you'd gotten as a gift you were staring up at the sky pointing out different stars and talking about the week and the highlights. Eventually you had fallen into a comfortable silence until Bob interrupted it. 

“Hey Darling?” you hummed in reply not taking your eyes from the sky, giving his hand a squeeze that was connected to yours between your bodies. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” With that you giggled and turned on your side to look at him. He turned on his side as well, blue eyes clashing. 

Without answering him you brought a hand to his cheek and closed the space between you two. His hand found it’s way to the side of your neck and his thumb stroked your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He carefully laid you down before getting on top of you.

Your hands slid into his shirt feeling the taut muscles of his abdomen. He slipped a hand down to rest on your hip. As one of your hands came up to cart through his hair. The kiss became needy and passionate until you were both pulling away desperate for oxygen. He peppered your face with kisses which had you giggling before he was rolling onto his back in his previous position. He lifted an arm and wrapped it around your shoulders bringing you into his side. Gently you rested your head on his shoulder. “Thank you so much for this week Bob. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday week.” 

“You deserve the world, Darling. I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure you get it.” He told you placing a kiss on your forehead.

Tags:

@wkndwlff @sylviebell

Bonus: The joke Javy won with which is a joke that I made up at about 3 in the morning 4 years ago😂

Where did the patella grow up?

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Kneebraska

(Terrible I know)

Another one I made up:

What state did the graphite go to school?

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Pennsylvania

(Also terrible I know)

A/N:Once again thank you T for being so amazing and Happy Birthday! Writing this has also helped me out of my writers block and that's really exciting!

[resolutepath]

ACHILLES: WISHLIST. [ H.SR VERSE. ]

I thought I'd write up some plots / connections I'd like to explore in Achilles HSR verse for ease of interaction and may do the same for a few other characters with crossover verses. In terms of where he is in his legend, Achilles is at the stage where he has lost Patroclus and entrenched in all that rage. The full verse is linked above.

BELOBOG.

GEPARD LANDAU. This one is the easiest to explain. As a soldier from beyond looking for a purpose, Achilles enlists as part of the Silvermane Guards (whether through Gepard or elsewhere I haven't worked out the finer details) but he is an accomplished warrior and can go on long beyond fresh recruits. The one stipulation he has is that he decides when he's done, and he'll dedicate his full force. I think it would be neat for Gepard to deal with this as he is assigned to work under him, to almost see a reflection of what he could become in the way Achilles is only his duty, a shell of a man only able to fight, but also I think he needs to try and connect with someone. I should note he only arrives post The IPC arriving so they might be able to get access to his files eventually.

BRONYA / PELA. This is kind of an extension of the above, but Achilles acting within his capacity as a Silvermane Guard. He's good at his job but he's brutal. And he is carrying a whole lot of grief and sorrow.

LUKA. Achilles spends a lot of time in the fighting ring and his fights are brutal to say the least. He's a no mercy, don't get in the ring with me if you're not prepared to be hurt kind with how enraged he is all the time. Perhaps Luka refusing to fight him until he fights fair, or stopping one of his fights before it goes to far then trying to work out why.

NATASHA. This one's pretty easy, but Achilles often gets himself in a state and doesn't deal with it. Someone to berate him and pull him in line. But also try to dig into why. She treats him long enough, she'll see some scars that weren't born from Belobog.

SAMPO KOSKI. My first thought tbh is that Sampo tries to convince him to work on a scam for the boxing ring given Achilles record for fights. I'll tell you when to throw the fight we make bank kind of way. If Sampo wants to use his past to needle him, well, the option is there.

PENACONY.

GALLAGHER. There's a period of time before he goes to Belobog where Achilles exists on Penacony, dreaming of his lost lover as time passes the image of the lover fades, from a fully talking and engaging model to a shell of a human following him around. I am certain there have been times where the dream couldn't quite last he ended up in the bar, drinking away his sorrows with something with more bite than Soulglad.

SUNDAY. This is less strict but maybe just putting the man under to microscope or trying to coax him into The Order's path. Achilles is a broken and lost man, he seems like a perfect target who needs more than what shreds life has left of him.

ROBIN. This is Achilles' moment of respite. Perhaps Robin catches him playing the lyre and hears his melody and they share a moment of song together. He gets a moment to talk to her about his lost love, she tells him of her troubles and for a moment he feels normal.

ADDITIONAL.

BOOTHILL. Achilles slaughtered Hektor on the battlefield, as he does in the Iliad. Suffice to say the way he does it might be grounds for a bounty to be put on his head and a Galaxy Ranger to take interest in his case.

[brainrotallthewaydown1312]

I'm gen z and I've got two cents to throw in.

for context, i grew up in a house where there wasn't as much surveillance as a lot of my peers had. there were no cameras or tracking apps and my time online was largely unmonitored in every way except the amount of it I had. it was to the point where my friends would reach out to me about serious things first because they knew my parents wouldn't read my texts. i was first to hear about problems with abusive parents, self harm, drug use, all of it, because my messages were safe. they'd have to clear their own end of it to evade their parents. but at the same time, my stepdad is very conservative and my mom is a deeply apathetic person, leaving him to control a lot of things. they managed to be a very specific blend of neglectful and emotionally abusive. and one of the effects of this was that my stepdad would start a screaming match (that he called a "civil debate") over anything he saw as either a political or moral idea we disagreed on. he had me teaching the toddlers Sunday school at his church when I was 12. and he was displeased that I had queer friends. and while what I did online was not under control the same way my peers was, if he saw something he could recognize as one of those things we disagreed on when I was online, it would start those fights. and it would often lead to him restricting the time I had online, or grounding me from electronics altogether. which put my friends in danger more than once because of my role as dedicated first responder to crises.

so even without the surveillance and control, I still had to learn how to clear my Netflix history and suggestions before I watched the l word. or glee. i still had to brave the barrage of unsolicited dick pics from strangers that is Snapchat so my friends could safely message me. i still had to fluff up my internet history with Bible study websites in case it was looked at. i still had to keep my hands on the keyboard shortcut to change tabs when I used the family computer to read fanfiction or use Tumblr. i had to save instructions for how to circumnavigate tracker apps to help my friends get out of abusive houses for a night. i had to clear research for my history homework from my search history just in case. i had to hide my creative writing in secret files on thumbdrives. and I still had to plead my case every time I wanted to leave the house or stay later than usual at school.

i had significantly less surveillance than my peers. to the point where they leaned on me because of it. and it still fucked me up. i am an atheist and I live my life like there is an omnipotent big brother because that is what I am used to. i worry about having to defend my online decisions in a fight even when I don't live with that threat anymore. i still spend most of my time at home and struggle to find footing in irl communities because I was only able to participate in online community as a kid and teen. and when I do participate in irl community I struggle to say anything because it still feels like everything I say is held to the level of scrutiny I grew up with.

i am watching my friends and peers struggling with their parents as they become adults. not because they are having a hard time but because their parents don't have healthy boundaries with them. they are used to always having precise tabs on their kids and control over what they do and how they do it. and now that the kids are grown up and living on their own, the parents are trying to do it from a distance. and the thing is, they aren't even doing it in ways that make sense. i recently had to teach basic first aid to a friend because their mom had been making them do it wrong their whole life. most of my peers struggle with things like cooking and cleaning because they were taught them wrong and were punished for doing it differently than their parents wanted. and even fewer of my peers have healthy communication skills because they were brought up in houses where dysfunctional social expectations were normal and thought crimes were treated as real.

there is a reason gen z is so passionate about social justice and communication and therapy. we saw first hand what both systematic and personal abuse looks like and what it does. we saw first hand how miscommunication leads to dangerous situations. and we saw first hand what happens when no one makes an effort to understand themselves. it ended poorly for our parents and it ended poorly for us. so it has been left to our generation to fight that pattern and to avoid the big brother that the generations before us seem to want. because we've lived through and seen the damage that the early stages of it can do. and we are terrified of what happens if the surveillance becomes more invasive, or even scarier, more normal

[tabletopbrainrot]

My face when my phone has done nothing but ding in the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers jingle all day

Now then uhhhh... Weekly recap?

Sunday game:

Our replacement for our Owlin Monk has showed up, they're an Assassin Rogue/Drakewarden and they're suspicious as hell. My dragon hating Drow is already barely stomaching one dragon in the party, now we have Spooky Toothless and their pet noble.

Now why is this suspicious you ask? They're from the capital city, so far behind enemy lines that there is no reasonable explanation for how they got there... And hunting displacer beasts sure as hell ain't it.

Our Drow Monk got feebleminded and unfeebleminded in the span of like two sessions. She's basically a cat when at 1int

Our Witch( hag wizard) is so low on resources that it's not funny, I don't think we could squeeze a spell slot out of her if we tried.

Kobold Paladin is just chilling, also might be the key to reintroducing a lost magic used by the divine to create souls to the world.. where did souls come from before this? Great question couldn't tell you if you had a gun to my head

Me? Drow Fighter also just chilling nothing to say other than, tried to earn the trust of a Gloomstalker(Explorers Guide to Wildmount creature, not the really good ranger subclass) after one tried to once again kindnap the Owlin didn't go so well sadly..

(Dog)Centaur Ranger helping us navigate this mess of an underground labyrinth, can't really say anything bad is happening to him he's just rolling survival really.

When this session ended we had found an abandoned minecart station full of intricate clockwork, and at the far end there was a shadow dragon seemingly stuck in a time loop? Or causing one? It pings as Winter Fey, Dragon, and Undead to the ranger. The party wants me to do something given my alleged Winter Court affiliation. So yeah that'll be fun

Tuesday game:

Aka I swear hand on a holy book of your choice it's not Fate

No session this week so a recap of last, we basically hot dropped into the center of the Woad warrior tribe our Fighter is from, and things were hell chaos creatures being vomited out of multiple purple worms, and an impenetrable barrier keeping anyone from escaping.

Our Illithid friend remarked about how dangerous it was for the choir to be away from the capital city, and offered to get us into the central command worm in exchange for allowing them to evacuate the choir. We agree even though we know this will make our lives harder and get ported into the worm and lead into a kill chamber with a red dracolich under the control of a Illithid wizard with a Roman name I can't even remember off hand.

We spend time whittling away at the dragon in our various ways, including our Woad Fighter burning an ability to reroll key events allowing me to crit a shot from my Spelljammers main cannon (20d10+4d8 my DMs face was such a meme, literally slap it on a sticker I swear)

Unfortunately for us the keyword of Dracolich is infact lich so even after all that and our Hobgoblin Irish king with no serial numbers filed off with a dragon slaying sword beating on it, it still gets back up. However our Squidly friend goes full Senate on the wizard and stabs him in the back telling him Caesar sends his regards and breaks the Dracolich's phylactery. Session ends before we see this choir, we'll deal with this next time.

Lancer:

⚠️⚠️We're playing Stolen Crown I can't really spoiler tag so you've been warned⚠️⚠️

• We stop one Ragnarok themed Mecha Kaiju assault, only for two more to kick off, despite us being very dumb we did decide to not split the party and sadly could only directly help one clan that was under attack. Cue Eikþyrnir, which would have had so much advantage, and could have collapsed the caves we were in, except one two many things first of all being I don't care about your Razor Swarms DM I have a Tempest Charged Blade, two we have a Manticore, Three our Sherman is going to use the full reactor or else.

So our Manticore swapped places with Eikþyrnir, and I ran up and Structured it with one swing, triggered executioner and hit the Silverhoof with the back swing and Molten Wreath. Bless our Death's Head's heart, the lad is in constant suffering after getting Gallagher'd by Jörmungandr last session but did pop Eikþyrnir which basically let us take our time, also fuck hornets all my homies hate hornets.

The underground Kaiju fighter clan is saved temporary reward get!

• Cue mysterious radio broadcast, The guerilla insurgent that still thought they were fighting Seccom reaches out to negotiate, we agree to meet.

The DM improvises us a whole narrative clock check system trying to get this person to understand that times have changed and if the people of Sparr really wanted out of Union while it would take time the request would be honored. This whole scene mostly consisted of our single actual Union employee being fed information from the two mercenary Sparraboos known as Coyote and Vermin.

Despite Foundry's best efforts we pass and flipped Yennval's most radicalized guerilla.

• Which leads to us being warned about Huginn and Muninn and having backup in the form of an ace pilot, Yennval is redirecting power somewhere we have to stop this.. now if you've seen my last post... And I repeat who are you people? You'll know that I've been using a liberal interpretation of how [Total Strength Suite I] works, meaning I've been running, dashing, throwing a cover halfway through the second dash, then using [Xaioli's Ingenuity/Tenacity] for more movement by breaking the rock, triggering it again and hitting another target on the map to reset my counter to break the power poles while the most epic of ace combat dogfights is going on in the background.

Unfortunately we didn't stop Yennval from doing her thing, now like some unhinged 3D vtuber concert she's rising from her hidden bunker on the back of a spaceship shouting some unhinged shit..

I don't wanna kill this local god entity I'll be real, and I feel like that'll polarize the locals, but uhhh she's been off her gourd for over 500 years and something's gotta give.

Next session tomorrow the DM is hype and so are we, I think they've found this shit blog too from the meme so by all means expand anything you think I skimmed too much.

[dertaglichedan]

The harder Democrats hit Donald J. Trump, the higher his poll numbers go.

READ MORE: Was Last Week the Beginning of the End for Biden?

On June 8, the U.S. Department of Justice filed a federal indictment against Trump for allegedly mishandling classified records. But rather than sandbag Trump, Special Counsel Jack Smith’s 37 charges pumped helium into the reelection odds of America’s 45th president.

Trump’s Poll Numbers Rise Despite Indictment

Ten days later, ABC News anchor Jonathan Karl was astonished to see Trump rising in public opinion after becoming the first former president to face federal prosecution.

“A poll from Quinnipiac on a possible Biden/Trump matchup puts Biden at 48 percent, Trump at 44 percent,” Karl said on the June 18 edition of ABC’s This Week. “This is a poll, again, taken largely after the indictment. I mean, that’s going to make you — that’s within the margin of error. That’s a statistical tie. What does that say about Biden if he’s barely beating [Trump] or in some polls actually losing?” (READ MORE: Donald Trump Is the New Jimmy Stewart)

Trump’s showing is even more impressive when compared to that of his rivals for the GOP nomination.

In April, an NBC News survey found that 46 percent of likely voters in the 2024 Republican primaries backed Trump’s return to the Oval Office versus 31 percent who want Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis behind the Resolute Desk. Trump’s 15-point lead was impressive but not staggering.

No more.

On Sunday, a new NBC News poll discovered that Trump is the choice of 51 percent of Republican primary voters, with DeSantis now at 22 percent. RealClearPolitics’ survey average shows Trump at 52.1 percent and DeSantis at 21.5 percent. Now, Trump’s 30.6 percent margin is officially staggering.

NBC also found tepid support for the other GOP contenders. The all-forgiving former Vice President Mike Pence scored 7 percent. Chris Christie — New Jersey’s treacherous, execrable, self-humiliating former governor — stood at 5 percent. South Carolina’s former chief executive and Trump’s United Nations ambassador, Nikki Haley, earned 4 percent. Trump’s other Republican opponents all trailed the envoy.

To enormous applause, Trump told the Faith and Freedom Coalition on Saturday: “I’m probably the only person in the history of this country that’s been indicted, and my numbers went up.”

Americans Think Indictment Is Politically Motivated

How does Trump remain buoyant in the face of potential federal imprisonment? He remains higher than a Chinese spy balloon for two reasons:

First, about half the country believes that the legal proceedings against Trump involve a Venezuelan-style abuse of the justice system intended to hobble him for partisan purposes.

Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg and Attorney General Merrick Garland confirm that America is now cursed with a Heaven-and-Hell justice system: Heaven for Democrats and Hell for Republicans. Equal justice under the law is dead, and Democrats murdered it.

Joe Biden, Hillary Clinton, James Comey, former Clinton National Safety Council Chief Sandy Berger, former CIA Director John Deutch, FBI official Kevin Clinesmith, and other Democrats illegally mishandled classified documents, and nothing, or barely anything, happened to them. None of these people had the power to declassify anything, nor did any of them spend even an afternoon behind bars.

Meanwhile, Trump stored classified documents at his Mar-a-Lago residence. He did have declassification authority as president and the court-confirmed right to keep whichever presidential papers he, and only he, wished. Regardless, the FBI raided his home, and, before long, Trump got indicted.

This massive unfairness has rallied the GOP base and even made some independents and Democrats empathize with Trump. Relentless Democrat legal harassment has turned the steamroller-like Trump into a sympathetic figure.

[anoddreindeer]

went to see a play called Orlando last Sunday, and had some Thoughts:tm:

First off, I’ve never read the book the play was based on; I went to see it purely because I felt like I needed to get out of the house more and one of my online friends was in it. Orlando the play is based on Orlando the book by Virginia Woolf. Like I said, I’ve never read it or any of her books but maybe that gives context for other people.

Second, the theater was tiny. I’ve-been-in-bigger-locker-rooms kinda tiny. There were five actors all together, three pieces of movable flooring things on wheels that were moved by the five actors at various points in the play, a box, and a stool. One actor played Orlando, and the other four were literally every other character including the Chorus providing narration to the audience.

Honestly, it didn’t suffer much from being pared down. All the actors were on point, and the only thing they could’ve maybe used a little help for were the scene transitions when they had to move the big pieces.

So the play was in five acts, each act supposing to cover an Age of Orlando’s life. The Elizabethan Era through the 20th century, though I forget the exact Act titles. Basically, each Act spanned about 100 years and the whole thing ended in the 1970s or 80s (I couldn’t tell).

Anyway, it was good and I had a good time but like. People go to plays to get something out of them, I guess? So I applied what analytics skills I remembered from English class and got a couple of observations:

1. Orlando starts the play as a young man. The first two Acts are dedicated to that portion of his life, with the Queen taking him to adorn her Court and making him some kind of nobility - a duke, I think, though it wasn’t exactly clear. The exact rank probably isn’t important, just what he was doing at Court.

He dallies with the Queen, and then branches out to dally with the rest of the Court as well. The Queen catches him at his other dalliances by seeing him reflected in her mirror while he was macking on a serving-maid. She attacks and shatters the mirror, but apparently doesn’t expel Orlando from Court because the next little while has Orlando dallying with various ladies of the Court. The mirror’s interesting, because we never see Consequences happen to Orlando for this particular bit of knavery, only to his reflection; Plato’s Allegory, anyone?

There’s a whole bunch of romance fluff that is shattered when Orlando meets Sasha - a Russian noblewoman who spends a lot of time remembering how wonderful Russia is and not very much time on anything else. She also hits a recurring theme; when the play opens, Orlando is trying to write a poem but only has one line: “The grass is green.” Sasha also is called green; green, green eyes, green dress, green green green.

Green is the color of life and growing things, of hope and the future in its positive aspect. In its negative aspect, green is the color of jealousy and decay, of the loss of ruins to time as the forest covers them over.

In this case, green starts positive as Sasha takes Orlando astonishing places and seems to have great promise for the future. In a bit of narrative foreshadowing, however, they pass by a performance of Othello right at the point where Othello is strangling his wife in a fit of jealous rage. File that away for later.

But not much later, because Sasha cheats on Orlando with a Russian sailor and ends up going back to Russia with the sailor. Green again, this time in the negative aspect; Orlando goes back to his ducal(?) estate to work on his poem.

The poem’s another touchpoint, of a sort. Whenever Orlando is overset, and at least once an Act, Orlando would go back and try to write more on his poem. “The grass is green. The grass is...green.” Green again, in its positive aspect. And writing it always takes place under an oak tree - possibly THE oak tree, though once again that isn’t very clear and probably doesn’t matter (the fact that it could be the same oak tree, not the fact it is an oak tree, a tree known for its longetivity). There’s probably more symbolism in oak trees but I can’t be bothered to look it up.

Orlando then ends up on the sharp end of an unwanted courtship, and runs away to Constantinople (not Istanbul). At the end of the second Act, in Constantinople, Orlando metamorphoses into a woman.

One of the themes for the play seems to be gender, expression, their intersection, and societal expectations. At no point after Act 2 does Orlando wish she was a man again because she dislikes the way she is. She does make complaint that things were easier as a man because of the difference in societal expectation, including that she was disinherited from her ducal lands because women couldn’t be Dukes, that she was expected to be quiet and demure - though even at that point she notes that when she was a man she had enforced those expectations on the women she had known at that point.

Then of course societal pressures encourage her to get married; the play has it that her finger aches for a wedding ring or whatever, but I’m pretty sure that it’s just growing to a point in her life where she wanted a single person to spend it with, rather than the dalliances that had marked her boy/teenagerhood.

She ends up finding a guy whom she likes because of what society at the time would call feminine qualities - ie emotional intelligence, a love of soppy romances, and a couple other things I can’t remember off the top of my head - and who likes her because of her “masculine qualities” - an ability to speak her mind, etc. So they get married and he goes off sailing the seas to make money and she tends house.

The last act is the shortest, and Orlando spends a lot of it thinking about days gone by. The specters of the Queen and of Sasha make their way around the stage, and Orlando ends the play by settling down under the oak tree and writing what is, apparently, one hell of a poem.

So we have a through-line of green, oak trees, poetry, gender expressions, and societal expectations. The Chorus doesn’t speak in rhyming verse - maybe in iambic pentameter or something, I can’t tell that as easy as I hear rhyme schemes - but it does narrate a lot of what’s going on. The grass in green, Sasha is green, the fair shores of England are green, the ducal estates are green.

I dunno, I just feel like I have a lot of goddamn puzzle pieces and no picture to show for it. Fucking frustrating.

[purplesurveys]

1638

Would you rather take a walk in the cold rain, or in the blistering heat? Oh, the rain for sure. I live under the sun all year long, so a walk in the rain would actually sound relaxing and refreshing for me. Name something of great importance to you. My happiness.

How do you typically go about resolving an argument? I legitimately rarely get into an argument these days. In fact, my only experience with disagreements must have only been with my ex.

What is your favorite card game? I don’t like card games.

If it were revealed that Religion in its entirety did not actually exist, would your outlook on life be any different? It'd be a big I-told-you-so moment, but for the most part I think I’d just be glad I can stop going to Sunday mass.

Which countries have you been to? / Which was your favorite? Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, China, South Korea, Japan’ I get to add Thailand to the list this June, too. Favorites would be Korea and Indonesia. Have you changed your mind about anything important this week? Ermmm not really. When was the last time that you were in a hospital? Around this time last year when I was visiting my mom post-myomectomy.

What kinds of hobbies are you into? I like being in museums; going to bazaars or exhibits about stuff I’m into like coffee and K-pop; learning history on my own; trying out different and new restaurants; collecting K-pop merch; and watching a select number of YouTube channels on a regular basis.

Describe to me what a typical Friday night for you entails. Very quiet and largely uneventful. I’m typically beat up and burned down by the time Friday rolls around, so as attractive as partying can sometimes sound I have no problem spending the evening at home and under the stars.

If you had the chance to slip through a portal, despite being aware of any of effects and/or consequences, would you do it? Well if the said effects or consequences are stuff I can live through unscathed, then yeah, I would.

Do you trust your gut instinct? Yep.

How often do you suffer from panic/anxiety attacks? It’s very rare but I did go through one around two to three weeks ago. As a child, were you satisfied with your home life? No. As a child, I could tell the circumstances were shit.

How many alcoholic beverages do you consume per month on average? Less than five.

If you could do ANYTHING for a living, what would you do? A travel and food writer. Writing is my biggest passion and my love for it hasn’t diminished even though I have had to write a million things I don’t care about in the name of work – it’d sound like such a dream come true if I do get to write about things I enjoy the most.

Which color tends to appear most in your wardrobe? Black, white, olive green, beige.

What did you do for your last birthday? I’m so tired of saying the same thing for this lol but I just filed a day off and spent time with my family, then that weekend my friends and I set off to Zambales to enjoy the sea. Then I sprained my ankle and had all the kids around look at me weird, lol.

What was your opinion about 2012, and the “end of days?” It was so funny and I didn’t believe in it at all. The best result from it was all the pop songs that came out singing about ‘partying until the end of the world.’

Are you interested in anyone at the moment? What are some things that make that person so special? I am not and don’t think I’ll ever be emotionally ready for a relationship again. I’m happier by myself. Name five things that you like about yourself. I like how I can be good at writing; the way I’d bend over backwards for my friends; I don’t quit easily; I’m good with dogs; and the way I can be resilient.

Name one thing that you would like to change about yourself. Not to take every single mistake too hard and too personally. I always feel like I’m on the verge of being fired because of my fear of fucking up.

Which parent was more strict when you were growing up? My mom. Dad has always been good cop. What would your last meal consist of if you could choose it? The biggest platter of sushi and sashimi ever. What are some things that initially attract you to the preferred sex? Personality. I like when people don’t give much about themselves away; makes me want to reach out more and pick their brain a bit.

What was the last thing that you did that made you feel accomplished? Survived the busy buildup for a campaign that’s finally launched. Tell me something about your best friend. She took up architecture and is interning to prepare for the architectural board exam. She’s brilliant at drawing and anything that has to do with math. Were you bullied as a child, or did you bully others? I was bullied first but I also took to teasing others eventually, probably because of the anger from the said bullying I had to endure previously.

What is one of your guilty pleasures? Hm. I don’t really feel guilty about things I like anymore haha.

When do you find yourself feeling your best? Whenever I’m out and about with my closest friends.

[maximotts]

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐣. 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

a/n: It's Week 2 of my Kinktober and this was uhh.. completely unexpected for me to write today. It's not a request, I just wanted to write something soft for @wellsayhelloaagin and it turned out longer than expected so I've decided to post it. She just deserves soft cuddles so.. there ya go

warnings: none tbh, just workaholic wife Jane Banner? slightly upset reader, but really it's just a soft fic

words: 982

kinktober event. || kinktober masterlist. || main masterlist.

“Janeeee…” The blonde turned to look at you from her side of the bed where she was sitting up, case files spread across her lap. At 2am. On a Sunday. She hated giving up, especially when she was so close and while you admired her dedication, especially when she worked on such important things, you would rather she pay attention to something else now. “Stop for the night, you’ve been on this nonstop.”

You were barely awake, laying safely under your shared blankets and cozy as hell. It was nearly perfect; a quiet night, plush pillows adorning your soft mattress, but you were missing a key element- your wife. Jane Banner, stubborn as ever. “I just want to read one more page.” She’d said the same thing 10 pages ago.

“Fine, whatever. Do what you want.” Way past extending your patience, you rolled away from her, giving up the sight of your clearly exhausted wife to instead face the wall before shutting your eyes. You could sleep without her, you did it all the time, but it was harder when she was right there and she’d already been gone so many nights this month. Unfortunately, your body missed her and you hated yourself for it.

Jane muttered something under her breath about you being difficult, reaching for another page that rested just next to your blanket clad hip. Suddenly she was hit with a strange longing, breaking through her work focused thoughts and considering you for a moment. The sight of you curled up on the other side of the bed, purposefully rolled as far away from her as you could without being on the edge, made her feel.. sad, disappointed in herself even. The night before she returned, she’d promised you time with no work interruptions, just the two of you catching up and enjoying each other’s presence and even though she was on the phone, Jane could see your face light up.

She’d truly lucked out with you, a girl so pretty and so understanding of her long hours and determined attitude, always there for her no matter what she got into. The day she came back shot in the shoulder, Jane was sure you’d knocked at least ten nurses into the wall with how many shouts she heard down the hall as you ran to her room. You never left her side, not even when she’d insisted it looked like a worse injury than it actually was. And when she went off on another assignment just a week later, you’d smiled sadly, clearly holding back dissenting words as well as your own tears, but you said you understood and let her go.

So when she came back, having promised alone time, but with a fat stack of information on her newest case, Jane expected you to blow up. But you didn’t. You quickly shifted your carefully laid out plans, deciding on a night in and cooking the two of you something from the pantry that was easy to throw together. After one movie, Jane urged you to go to bed; you were tired, but you wanted to spend time with her so you resisted, but somehow she’d convinced you. It would be easier to work without your upset eyes following her every move.

Once you’d fallen asleep, she started on your work, sitting next to you so you wouldn’t be alone, but then you’d woken up and began to nudge her to give up on work for just one night and for whatever reason, Jane continued to refuse. Now you were upset, understandably, and again she’d shrugged you off. She hated herself for it. Quietly as possible so as not to disturb you, Jane gathered her scattered work and set it aside before turning out the lamp light. Sliding in behind you was easy, wrapping her arms around your midsection to pull you back against her.

“I’m sorry,” When you didn’t respond or move, Jane figured you’d fallen asleep, but she held you anyway, burying her face in the crook of your neck and shoulder. She breathed in your freshly showered scent, slightly damp hair tickling her nose. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so patient with me, I’ll try more, I promise. I’ll even get someone to take this case for me so I can have more time with you, if it’ll make you happy.”

You were still, but you weren’t asleep. Tears welled in your eyes with her sudden softness and you blamed your lack of physical contact for your overwhelming response to something so simple. “Do you mean it?” Finally, you turned over, not caring how stuffy with tears your words sounded. Gentle green eyes looked at you, really looked at you and you melted, choking out a sob as she nodded in confirmation. “Thank you..”

Jane shook her head, her thumb coming to wipe away the wetness staining your cheeks. “Thank you for staying by me. I only ever want to come home to you, work can wait sometimes.” You threw your arms around her, keeping her tight as you could for fear that you were somehow dreaming.

When your legs wound around her hips, clinging fully to her in your sleepy state, Jane chuckled and patted your back. “Alright, little koala, get some sleep,” She had to crane her neck to kiss you with how close you’d pressed yourself, but she managed, a sweet, slow thing just to prove her love further. As much as Jane longed to kiss you again, she already felt bad enough keeping you up this late. “Close your eyes, I’ll be here.”

“You better be.” Your head laid on Jane’s chest, the chilled skin of her sternum meeting your flushed, soft cheek. “Or else I’ll have to cling to you forever.”

The blonde shook her head, pressing one last kiss to the crown of your head. “Fine with me, sweetheart.”