#i do think its funny that he's a morning person here when we all know he and wonwoo are entirely nocturnal

[prael]

Phonecalls

Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia

IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut

words: 3,757 Kinktember Masterlist

Happy Gaeul day!

Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’

A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her true self. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.

She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.

There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.

Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.

"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.

"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.

"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."

"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."

Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"

"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.

"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.

"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"

"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"

Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 

She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.

That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.

"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."

She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."

"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."

"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."

"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."

"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"

"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.

"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.

"You know where I get my fun."

"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.

The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.

"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.

"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.

"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.

"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."

"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.

"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.

"And what did he pick?"

"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.

"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."

"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.

"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."

"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.

"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."

"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.

"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.

There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."

"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.

"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."

"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.

"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."

You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."

"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."

"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.

"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."

"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."

"Let's hear it," you urged.

"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.

"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"

Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."

"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.

"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.

"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."

"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.

"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."

"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.

"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.

"I hope not."

"You wanna know what's funny?"

"Tell me," you plead to her.

"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."

You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.

"Not funny?" she asks.

"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."

"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.

"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."

"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"

"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"

"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.

"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"

"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.

"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."

"Then?" you prod her on.

"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."

"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.

"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.

You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.

"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."

You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"

"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.

"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.

Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.

"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...

"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.

It's an amazing fucking image.

"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."

You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.

"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."

"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."

"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."

You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."

"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.

You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.

"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."

"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.

"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.

"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SHREK *  assorted dialogue from the 2001 film, adjust as necessary

two things, okay? shut... up.

you didn't slay the dragon?

some of you may die... but it's a sacrifice i am willing to make.

they judge me before they even know me. that's why i'm better off alone.

how will you kiss me?

that wasn't in the job description!

what is so funny?

let's just say... i'm not your type.

pick me! pick me!

i've got a dragon and i'm not afraid to use it!

now really, it's rude enough being alive when no one wants you, but showing up uninvited to a wedding?

it's a compliment! better out than in, i always say.

you can't tell me you're afraid of heights.

let's do that again!

what's that? it's hideous.

only a true friend would be that cruelly honest!

well, technically, you're not a king.

the battle is won.

so where is this fire-breathing pain in the neck, anyway?

hey, don't look at me. i didn't invite them.

it's on my to-do list!

you're meant to charge in, sword drawn, banners flying!

that's not the point!

huh, celebrity marriages. they never last, do they?

that'll do, [name]. that'll do.

you're going the right way for a smacked bottom.

well, that's not very nice. it's just a donkey.

where are you going? the exit's over there!

i have to save my ass.

what kind of a knight are you?

i was talking about the dragon.

man, this would be so much easier if i wasn't color-blind.

we can stay up late, swapping manly stories, and in the morning... i'm making waffles!

whoa, look at that. who'd wanna live in a place like that?

that... would be my home.

i think i need a hug.

you're a monster!

we were forced to come here!

you know, you're really quite a decorator!

it's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget!

i like that boulder. that is a nice boulder.

you know, not everybody likes onions.

everybody loves cake!

i don't care what everyone likes!

have you ever met a person, you say, "let's get some parfait," they say, "hell no, i don't like parfait."

end of story! bye bye! see ya later!

parfaits may be the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet!

it talks?

i'm not the monster here, you are!

now tell me, where are the others!

eat me!

i've tried to be fair to you creatures, but now my patience has reached its end.

all right then! who's hiding them?

oh you're going to love it there.

men of his stature are in short supply.

it's getting him to shut up that's the trick!

hey, what's your problem [name], what you got against the whole world anyway, huh?

i'll find those stairs.

look, i'm not the one with the problem, okay? it's the world that seems to have a problem with me.

do you think he's maybe compensating for something?

hey, where're you going?

oh man, i can't feel my toes!

take a look at me. what am i?

doesn't that bother you?

man, i like you. what's your name?

you're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings.

there you are, doing it again!

oh... oh this is all my fault.

you can't do this to me! i'm too young for you to die!

you gotta warn somebody before you just crack one off, my mouth was open and everything.

believe me, if it was me... you'd be dead.

i steal from the rich and give to the needy.

man, that was annoying.

i was sent to rescue you.

i'm supposed to be rescued by my true love!

your job is not my problem.

you love this woman, don't you?

i don't want to rush into a physical relationship.

like that's ever gonna happen!

why are you following me?

stop singing!

it's no wonder you don't have any friends!

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ lovesick ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1936

he looked unreal, all tanned with his beautiful eyes half closed as he looked down, full lips unconsciously forming a pout. his chest was bronzed and openly displayed for anyone with two eyes and a drooling mouth.

you wanted to eat him alive.

it was supposed to be a peaceful morning at your parents' beach house on the coast but, apparently, your boyfriend chose violence that day. with sleepy eyes and a drowsy appearance, you immediately realized that you accidentally fell asleep while trying to get tanned by the summer sun in the morning. luckily, the book you were reading fell from your grip at some point and didn't leave a funny mark on your stomach for woo-jin to laugh about later.

how can one person be so beautiful, inside and out? was he even real, or will you inevitably wake up to find the space beside you empty, his presence fading with your dreams?

you get goosebumps just imagining it.

feeling your eyes on him, gun-woo looked up from his drawing, a big smile forming on his pink lips.

"you look like shit, babe".

oh wow, what a day to feel loved.

"fuck off". you grumbled while sitting up and picking the book from the floor next to you, gun-woo's eyes never leaving your bikini form. "what took you so long to get here?". you asked him pouty.

"your mother asked me to move the sofa three times so she could do her pilates session in the living room". gun-woo couldn't help but laugh at his answer, never imagining he'd be in this position someday.

it was your first family trip as a couple, and also the first time gun-woo went on a plane and traveled since his school's excursion in 9th grade to say the best. you were happy to see him happy. it was thrilling to see the man in another setting, different from the usual gym clothes or café outings you guys first got to know each other. you considered yourself a good girlfriend, providing these opportunities for both of you while so young, even if gun-woo was paying for basically everything other than the house you were staying. you were a good girlfriend, right?

so why the living hell was he acting so mean towards you?

"i'm sorry about that". you grimaced embarrassingly because of your mother. "just because you have an insane amount of muscle she thinks you're her personal guard". gun-woo laughs. that bright innocent smile that makes his eyes disappear.

fuck you kim geun-woo for being so mean.

"my mom used to say we should never neglect help from others, including offering help in the first place". he tells you with innocence, a sudden wave of sympathy running through his veins strong enough to make him vocalize his thoughts. you were too accustomed with this side of him, being together for almost 6 months. “she also used to say that we always must look for the best in people”.

he was too pure. so why could you only think other things like what was this man saying? and why wasn't he kissing your mouth right now?

you embarrassingly found yourself in this predicament more times than you could count with your boyfriend.

the sound of his voice didn't shake you out of your sleepy daze, looking up at him with eyes full of love and wonder. like a lovesick puppy whose brain didn't seem to register the spoken words, too caught up in its own reverie.

when he didn't get the reply he was hoping for, gun-woo finally put down the pen and paper and leaned closer to you, your knees now touching and you almost choked on your saliva.

you loved him too much. and he was so hot.

“y/n?” he asked softly, placing a hand on top of your lap, the feel of his surprisingly cold hands against your warm skin almost making you shiver.

"i was so worried when i woke up and didn't see you, figured you'd be reading here". his smile continued to be nothing other than soothing, comforting, and exclusive.

exclusive for you and only you.

"woo-jin tried facetiming early this morning but i was still sleeping, i kind of feel bad for him not being able to come this time". he rambles. "and i also feel bad for sleeping so late, i hope your parents don't mind it. yesterday was a good day".

of course it was a good day. it was gun-woo's first ever private flight and you couldn't put your mind around the fact that this man's whole life was a huge unfair exposure to only the bad in life. you wanted to cry suddenly. cry for everything cruel that happened to him. cry for his still pure but poorly scarred heart. cry for his smiles and goodmorning pecks. cry for his fucking six-pack and spy reflexes.

cry because he was yours. exclusively.

without saying a word, you gently pulled his hands away before wrapping yours around his shoulders in a much-needed hug, the love you felt for him overwhelming all your senses. his arms found their place around your waist immediately, pulling his body closer and pouring all his love into you in return.

it was his fault for dating such a crybaby and he knew it, because the second he touched your waist and ribs, the boxer knew you were about to cry because of your uneaving breathing.

gun-woo hesitated for a second, giving your body another squeeze before finally speaking.

"are you okay, princess?" his voice was calm as he gently stroked your hair, knowing damn well you got emotional in the mornings sometimes. his 'bedroom voice' - that's what you called, don't judge - was enough to make your eyes sting, causing you to snuggle closer to his neck with a nod.

"'m okay".

you loved his bedroom voice - again, don’t judge the name you came up with -, it was special for you. it held something ethereal in the fact that he dropped a few octaves to talk to you and only you. the intimacy he could bring only by speaking more calmly to you, everywhere you both were together and tangled in each other's arms like right now.

everything was different. the setting, the weather, the clothes - it made you realize for the very first time in the six months of your relationship that dating itself shouldn't be overwhelming, tiring, or burdensome.

dating should feel like the books you grew up reading and the movies you grew up watching. anything other than that, it didn't belong to you in the first place.

you felt so comfortable in his embrace like you were floating on a fluffy cloud as the sun was slowly disappearing, so warm and safe. it was just the best, being with the man you loved, and nothing could come close to how you were feeling in his presence, surrounded by his unconditional love and care.

fuck, you were sounding like a corny teenager and it was embarrassing.

"y/n, you're going to tell me what's on your mind, aren't you?". the sound of his concern was evident in his voice, reminding you that - even if this man's thighs were the size of your head -, he still was worried and soft on the inside type of boyfriend.

you were his first girlfriend. gun-woo didn't know how to do things usually.

without missing a beat, you looked him in the eye for the question.

"i love you, gunwoo-ya". you started to pour your eyes out for no reason. you blamed the hormones, your mom would blame the weather and woo-jin would blame the books you read but you didn't care.

the corners of his mouth turned up in response, a soft, sincere smile stretching across his face because he was also just that: a lovesick puppy.

"i love you too". gun-woo wasn't expecting that, you could tell. he was too nonchalant for his own good sometimes.

like who the fuck wears pink bright shorts at his parents-in-law’s beach house? WITH NO SHIRT ON.

his eyes were full of love as he looked at you, the sun making the already beautiful landscape even more dazzling as time seemed to stop once more, everything but him disappearing at that moment. not being able to wait any longer, gun-woo then leaned his head up, pouty lips brushing yours teasingly for a moment before connecting in a proper kiss.

his touch was soft and tender, brushing against your mouth as he had so many times before, your tongue darting out to meet his briefly as his arms around your waist pulled you even closer. the sudden change in height since you got up from the bench was a different angle for both of you.

a silent moan escaped your lips as your barely clothed breast brushed against his, giving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue properly inside your mouth for another taste.

his hands squeezed your sides lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to feel good, and just as you were about to pull him even closer to deepen the kiss, he slowly pulled back, making you want his lips more.

a smile appeared on his face at that, the smugness behind it pouting in response. you straddled him so your faces were on the same level and suddenly the boxer went exe.error404

"jagi, your mom-". he spoke, his hot breath hitting your face with each exhale. you smirked at him.

he was so mean.

"how can you act innocent right after sucking my mouth dry a second ago, you monster?".

"but-". oh no. his cheeks were red, wide eyes searching for one of your parents to pop up from nowhere suddenly, hands finding no safe spot to grip at your sides, finally opting to put them in your waist, almost engulfing its whole circumference because of the size of his hands.

when a few moments passed and you still remained in the same state, he finally relented and sealed your lips once more in a quick kiss, one of his hands moving up from your waist to gently caress your swollen lower lip afterward.

“is that what you've been thinking about all this time, baby?". he asked embarrassingly, eyes avoiding your brown ones for all that was worth.

you nodded, your eyes roaming all over his face before reaching out to move some of the hair away from his eyes, gathering his attention.

"sorry, but yes". you pouted, a small smile starting to appear on the boxer's mouth. you could tell he was embarrassed to hear you confess he occupies your mind 24/7 as if he didn’t know that yet. "and that you are so irritably sexy".

not even one second after, gun-woo's hand is covering your mouth with his eyes wide open and a laugh escapes your lips. he instantly mouths for you to be careful.

"i didn't even say anything wrong!". you defend, automatically tracing his scar on the right side of his face like you are already used to, brushing his hair at the end.

"you want sexy time, i know you!". he whisper-shouts, now completely avoiding your gaze. you laughed.

"sorry". you were not. "it's not my fault you're wearing pink shorts! you can't do this to me, you're mean!". you whined on his lap.

"you were crying seconds ago, what happened?!". it was his turn to pout, looking genuinely confused at your change of emotions. "woojin-hyung said you were crazy when you guys first met".

"that old f-". gun-woo covered your mouth again, warning you. "he's lucky he didn't make it here".

this one is for my crybaby girlies i got you don't worry, gun-woo is here to wipe your tears and fuck your brains out - in a loving way. loved imagining beach!gunwoo a little too much.

[aritamargarita]

ATTITUDE || 002

we are so back its not even funny.…chat put W’s and 1’s in the chat. also if u catch this on ao3 im trying to fix the spacing it just ruined everything omg. (I FIXED IT)

WITH NEW RESURGENCE of WCW wrestlers, the WWF has a brand new problem on their hands. Under pressure, Vince decides to create the Invasion pay-per-view, an entire show dedicated to WWF vs WCW. In turn, Shane initiates your undercover plan. Oh, and Trish Stratus also gives you a proper thank you for helping her out. Lita isn't too welcoming, though. Matt isn’t either..

All of you had heard the announcement of Invasion just this morning. Supposedly, you and your team would fight the WWF next month, culminating in a winner-takes-all match.

You figure Shane was making his calls to let everyone know. You wouldn't be surprised if you were the first to know it, but it's unbelievable. Is the WWF challenging you guys? The answer is yes, but you know they will lose that battle.

This may have been the beginning of the end for that company, and nothing brings you more joy than seeing it crumble beneath your feet. Vince must've felt incredibly pressured by WCW. Dare you say, he felt threatened if he was going as far as making an entire show dedicated to this.

Supposedly, no one knew the entire card yet. The only thing Shane knew was that one of those matches would be Team WWF vs. Team WCW and that he needed extra time to prep everyone for it.

There's an inevitable group meeting to be called; you're sure of it. You don't mind being there one bit. You have to ensure your fellow wrestlers are pumped up with a pep talk before going out there.

Hell, you might even have your own match! So exciting. The only person you could think of them pitting you against is Lita, which you didn't mind at all.

"[Name], your hands are shaking."

Torrie's speaking pulls you out of your thoughts, and you bring up your hands to look at them.

You are shaking, and you find it incredibly hard to stop, as much as you try to will your body to.

"Ooh, you are!" She exclaims, looking over you again. "Like, really bad."

The black leathery couch creaks as you shift in your spot. You two were hanging out backstage at the next show, just as Shane requested.

There's gotta be something else you could do instead of sitting around like this. You wish you could run some interference, but as of tonight, you're trying to get into Team WWF's good graces.

You grimace at the thought. That is NOT your company, nor will it ever be. It even feels wrong to think that you belong to them.

You try to twist and turn one of your hands, but you're still jittering. "Sorry." You quickly apologize. "No idea why I can't stop."

When Torrie says absolutely nothing, you turn over to her. It's like she's examining you, but the awed look on her face is starting to agitate you.

She exhaled sharply and pointed a finger at you with a smile. "I get it now! You're nervous!" She exclaims.

"No," You're quickly denying it. "I'm cold, that's all. There's a draft in this room. I don't know how you're not cold with what you're wearing." You motion to her red jumpsuit cut in possibly the most revealing way ever.

"What's wrong with this?" She asks, looking down at herself. "If we want to get contracts, we'll have to make some sacrifices."

The first thing you say is: "…Ew." And although you mutter out an apology, you still find the implication gross.

 "Anyway," Torrie moves on. "You know there's nothing to worry about. Shane has everything under control!"

"Under control?" You jump out of your seat. "Invasion is next month! We have no idea what they're gonna put on the card. I don't think any of us has control over it, WWF does!"

Whenever you get wound up like that, Torrie would always back off to let you cool off. You'd generally sort it by your lonesome. But with how you're acting this go-around, it seemed like you need her intervention today.

"It's okay! That's why we're here." She reminded. She stands up to look you right in the eye. "To figure out what they're up to."

At first, you don't say anything. All you do is look back at Torrie. She gives you an expectant look, and you suck your teeth in response.

"I know." You say. "It's—"

You two are startled by the door slamming open, nearly falling off its hinges. You can hear Vince McMahon's voice from the outside, which makes you stand on guard.

Two men enter the room instead. They look around, turn the room upside down, move chairs, and look behind some plants.

Could Vince not come in himself? Too cowardly to come in? What a pansy.

A camera follows in right behind them, and you get the notion that you're on live TV. You can't hear it, but the crowd cheers at you and Torrie's appearance.

Torrie instinctively hides behind you. In turn, you do your best to stand strong. You try not to show your nervousness, crossing your arms so that you can hide your hands.

The two men in here were still turning the entire room upside down in search of something. You're not happy that these guys are ruining your "unassigned-assigned" room.

"Excuse me! Are you looking for something?" You finally say.

They freeze in tandem, and one looks at you in realization. They didn't care about your presence at all, huh? "Get in here!" One of the men yells out. "That's the girl with Booker T!"

With those words, Vince McMahon himself storms right into the room. You push Torrie even further behind you when he enters.

"Where the hell is Booker T?!" He gives the room a once over and then turns toward you. "You! You would know! Where is he?!"

"…. He's not here." You answer. The sound of shuffling makes you turn your head to the right. One of the men decided to toss your bag across the floor. "Hey! Watch it, that's mine! What the hell is wrong with you?" 

He slowly turns around. "What?"

"You heard me! "Whoever this guy was, your patience was already running thin. "Don't you have any manners? Pick it up!"

"I'm not picking that damn thing up." He says. Now that you get a better look at him, he looks exactly like the figure you saw at WWF New York.

If your memory serves you correctly, this is Stone Cold Steve Austin. Who just threw your very expensive bag on the floor?

The other guy with medals around his neck leans down and picks it up instead. "Here you go." He reaches it out toward you.

"Kurt, what the hell are you doing?!" He yelled. "She's a WCW girl! You [Name]?"

"Oh." Kurt falters, then drops your bag right onto the floor. Again.

"That's me, yeah." Though you confirm your identity, you feel exasperated. The crowd can't help but laugh. "…Please." You beg. "STOP DROPPING MY BAG." You kneel to pick it up and gently place it on the couch behind you. This time, they won't throw it around as if it had no value.

After that whole debacle, the question remains. "Well, where is he?" Vince asks. You narrow your eyes at him.

It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to insult him. It's all too easy to beat everyone up with a makeshift weapon and leave with Torrie for the rest of the night.

"You didn't hear me before? I said, I don't know." You repeat. "Maybe you should open up your ears, ol—"

"W-We don't know, Mr. McMahon!" Torrie cuts you off quickly. It's for the best. "You see, we're so glad you came here. Our contracts are expiring, and we were looking for something new."

You're sure that they were suspicious. After you attacked Lita, you weren't sure they'd go through with her idea. Torrie, sure. You already know she'll get in because she wasn't guilty, and newsflash: she's also attractive.

You, you're not sure. Obviously, you're attractive, but you may have ruined your chance by jumping on Lita like that. You decide to decorate your white lie with another.

"I just don't want to be a leader. I was told to do that to Lita, and I feel horrible. I don't want to be involved with WCW." You kick up your act to 100 by forcing tears to spring to your eyes, which sells it more. "Shane may even fire me for talking to you…"

"That's what you get when you deal with those classless WCW folk," Kurt snidely remarked, shaking his head. "Am I right, fellas?"

Vince and Austin look at each other for a moment, then nod their heads. Then, Kurt turns to you with his hand out.

"Hi, [Name]. Nice to meet you. I'm Kurt Angle, Olympic gold medalist." He reaches his hand out for you to shake, and you use your non-wet hand to shake it. Sorry about your bag." 

Guess an apology is a good way to start.

"Hello. It's fine." You shake his hand quickly and then return to your sob story. "I guess you're right. That company is classless." 

Torrie rubs your shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay, [Name]." She then turns to Vince. "Will you consider it?"

He's still not convinced. "And you are…..?"

She fills in the blank for him. "Torrie Wilson. From WCW. We would be so honored to work with you."

'We?' You think. Torrie must've been taking French classes. 

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Seeing as no one's jumping out at them, all three men relax at her words.

"I might be able to tell you where I think he is." When you say that, all three men perk up toward you.

Torrie looks alarmed but quickly calms down in fear of getting caught. You try to reassure her by patting the hand she kept on your shoulder.

"My only request is that you consider hiring us when our contracts go down the drain."

Honestly, you don't know where Booker T is, but you still try to compromise to get in good with them.

"Alright then. I'll do it. But Torrie, it's good to meet you. Very, very good." Vince was clearly trying to make moves on your blonde friend. "Maybe this weekend, dinner?"

Before Torrie can respond, you're quick to answer him. " We," You emphasize, "—can meet you at the show. No dinner, sorry. I don't think we'll be hungry."

Austin is pleased to hear it. "That sounds good. We don't need her. Then we'll go to dinner, Vince. I'll clear my schedule."

Kurt immediately jumps on the bandwagon. "Me too. I'll be there."

Austin shakes his head. "…We don't need you."

You clear your throat, making everyone look at you. "If you wanna know, I'm 99% sure Booker T is somewhere in the locker rooms. He could be looking for you guys like you're looking for him."

You can see them get all hyped up at your reveal, so you hope that was the push so they can get the fuck out of here.

Kurt is the only one who thanks you; he mutters it while vigorously shaking your hand one last time.

And thankfully, it was the push. They weren't sticking around for too long. At the very least, the three bid you and Torrie a quick goodnight and bolted out the door.

It must be important to find him. It's too bad you pointed them in the wrong direction. You knew that he wasn't anywhere near the stadium yet.

The more they looked, the more they wouldn't expect his appearance. They'll think he's not there at all, and the next time they're defenseless…WHAM! They won't see it coming!

God, you need to find a way to top that. Booker T is beating you in that department! You pray that Shane wouldn't actually get rid of you because you weren't performing up to standard.

You've got this. All you have to do is start plotting in your hotel room. You won't ask Shane what he thinks should be done. You'll spring the idea on him instead.

You wipe the crocodile tears, swiping a few fingers under your eye to not smudge the makeup you had on. Torrie walks over to the door and peeks out to ensure they're gone. She gently closes the door behind her afterward.

"When they came in, you looked like you were about to scream." She says.

You snicker. "I wish I could tell you how uncomfortable that entire exchange made me. Starting from pretending I'm something I'm not to that McMahon being around making me gag."

"I could've handled it myself." She starts. "But I still appreciate you saying something. We definitely wouldn't have gotten those contracts if you said anything more than that."

Yes, sometimes you could say some crazy things, but it's not always your intention to! Things tend to slip out of your mouth. You're just speaking your truth…

People have told you before that you like to speak about what's on your mind. Whether that was bad or good was always left to your interpretation.

"Pretty much. Anyway, we should split up." You suggest. "I'm going to try to apologize to Lita. Maybe I can find other people in the meantime."

"Oooh, you're finally deciding to make friends! Now you don't need to bother me and Stacy anymore." Torrie teased.

"I'm not gonna be friends with anyone in here!" You clarify. Seriously, you wouldn't be caught dead hanging with someone from here. "Besides, you guys love me and would get jealous of seeing me with anyone else."

She smiles at you. "Hmm, we get jealous? I'll have to get back to you on that."

You try to stay in your itty bitty circle for the most part, but you have no qualms about hanging out with coworkers.

Now, people from the WWF? No way. You don't think they could replicate the charm that the others had. Sure, people like Sting would stare creepily at you as you played chess. That was neat, but you can't beat him to this day!

You learn things, too. People like Randy Savage would yell at you and tell you to raise your voice to present yourself better. Fun!

And then you had people like Mona, who was friendly and calm. She's given you advice many times. It was a change of pace from the energetic characters you surrounded yourself with. 

You think there's no competition.

You move past Torrie and open the door, peaking your head down the hallway. There is someone not too far away. It's not Kurt, Vince, or Austin. It's someone else.

He's blonde, and he's holding something almost obnoxiously large. From this distance, it's safe to assume it's a trophy.

You retreat into the room. "And just like that, I already see my first target. How about I meet you back here when the show's over?"

"Fine with me." She agreed. "You know, I saw a Friday's on Time Square. Do you want to go after the show? Oh, oh, and who was it at the door?"

"I don't see why not." You don't mind hanging out. Not one bit. "And I think you're asking the wrong person. I can tell he's not a part of our team. He was blonde, and I think he was holding a trophy. No clue who that is. I need Shane to run me down on these people. I only know Trish, Lita, Matt, and the Big Show from him. I think I know the commentators, too?"

Shane was only telling you important information, so you figured these other randoms were less important to be known by you.

"Oooh, he's blonde?" Torrie's got that knowing sound in her voice, and you groan. "That's totally your type, [Name]. Everyone backstage used to say that you loved the blondes."

You look at her incredulously. "You're joking." Because she had to be. Who would even say that? It's not your fault that 80% of your friends had that hair color.

"Hehe. Yeah, I am. Wait, come here! If you want his attention, you've gotta oil up the good bits! Also, I think you need to wear something else!" Torrie exclaimed, dashing over to her bag.

Nuh-uh. No way. Not this time. She will NOT make you her Barbie doll again. You let the woman recommend clothes to you once and now she thinks she's your stylist!

"Torrie, what the hell do you mean oil up?! Leave me alone!" You exclaim. "I've gotta get this guy before he leaves!"

She's got the bottle in her hands, shooting you a pout. "Fine. But can't you lift your shirt just a little so that—"

"If you say anything else, I swear to god I will get you." You threaten, pointing a finger at her.

She backs off, holding her hands up to you. "Touchy!"

Saying nothing else to her, you open the door and walk down the hallway to approach this stranger.

You remember to keep a puzzled look on your face, then look around the room, all confused. The more ditzy you act, the more men will feel inclined to help you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, which is the one thing that caught his attention. He shifts the trophy in his hand to take a better look at you and then takes a few steps back in alarm.

"Woah, rogue WCW woman spotted. Don't attack me." He says. "I'm armed." He holds out the trophy to you warily, then pokes your stomach with one of the tiny metal prongs of the trophy.

"Ow—not a threat!" As plastic as those prongs were, they hurt like hell.  You feign panic, throwing your hands up. "I'm not a threat. I was just looking for someone! I want to tell Lita I'm sorry. Have you seen her?"

He's not sold at all, considering you cracked her head open the other day. "You want to say you're sorry? Listen, I don't care how tempting you are, I won't fall for whatever you've got going on. You're gonna try and take her out!"

This guy may have got the wrong idea. You're not into seducing him. Not yet, anyway.

"Thank you," You accept the compliment. "I, and probably you, have no idea what you're going on about." He may be in his head about you. "I'm only here to make amends because my contract may expire. I'll be out of work and out of a leader spot in no time."

They'd have to pry you from Shane's cold, dead hands. You don't have a choice but to hold onto the lie that your contract is ending soon.

"That sucks." He outright says, using a hand to comb through the top of his hair. "Uh, I mean, I'm sorry to hear that." He genuinely did seem apologetic, so he may be falling for it.

You’re still trying to be nice. "I'm [Name], but with you knowing what I did to Lita, you might already know."

"Yeah," He nods. "People've been talking about you beating up Lita. They're wondering what they're gonna do now. You're kinda gutsy for even showing up tonight. I'm Edge." He feels it's only fitting for him to introduce himself back, but it's easy to see that he's hesitant.

You smile anyway. Your following words are honeyed when you speak them. "Hi, Edge. Good to meet you. I'm gonna remind you that I mean no harm, seriously. After I talk to Lita, I'll even leave the arena. Are you sure you don't know where she is?"

"Lita.." Edge repeats, looking away from you for a second. "She might be with the Hardy Boys. I'm pretty sure."

It's part of a confession, making you think he had been holding back due to his suspicion.

"Hardy Boys, huh? Ah, do you know where catering is?" You ask. "I got so lost, completely forgot how big the Garden is." It's an exaggeration, but you should get some directions while you're at it.

…This is partly because you're hungry too.

Will the WWF's food hold its own against WCW catering? You need to put it to the test. You won't lie; your company had some of the best food by far.

It's not like you could put anything else to the test anyway. You hadn't even gotten a chance to get started on those local circuits because you took the chance and signed up for the Powerplant instead. It may have been too early, but it's gotten you far enough to be handed that beautiful contract.

It's not like you minded, you practically grew up watching it with relatives. Calling home with the exciting news was returned with happiness and playful jealousy.

Edge turns and points down the hallway. "Should it be that way to your left? Could be wrong, so don't come back trying to attack me."

You wave him off. "I won't. I think I'll give you a suplex. How does that sound to you?"

"I think I'd be the one doing that to you, [Name]." He countered. "You look pretty easy to carry."

"Edge! Been lookin' for you, man. Where'd you go?" Another voice makes you turn around to see yet another blonde man with goggles approaching you, and you fight the urge to throw your arms up in exasperation.

Maybe Torrie was right. You're not beating the blonde-lover allegations. You're losing… she's winning!! You hate it!

He looks over toward you, eyeing you up and down. Then he comes closer to Edge, muttering something else. "Who's that?"

"[Name], this is Christian, my brother." Edge introduces. "Christian, this is [Name]."

Brother, huh?

Christian looks between the two of you incredulously, then settles his eyes on Edge. "Wait, this is the chick that—"

The both of you say the end at the very same time. "…smashed Lita's head into the ground." You already knew it was coming. "Yes. That's me."

"Guess it's obvious then." He snickered.

"I may have done it, but it wasn't my intention." For a second, you pause because it was. There's no way it was just a freak accident. "It wasn't my intention to make her my enemy." You correct. "All I wanted to do was say sorry about it. It was all a misunderstanding on my end. Maybe we can work together against WCW."

You're trying your best to present yourself as a charity case towards them, and they, along with the others, are taking the easy bait.

He's not as apologetic as Edge was, but Christian still shakes his finger at you. "Work together, eh? You know what? She could help us, Edge. Those Hardy's, you know we've been feuding since 1999."

He then turns to you. "[Name], it's a big thing."

"What was the last time we won, last month?" Edge asks.

Christian takes a second to think about it and then replies. "Yeah, man. It was us and Rhyno. Eddie tagged along with them. Then we lost to him and Jeff. Remember?"

"Yep. Something happened every time." Edge reminisces about those matches. "We won that first one, sure, but Lita kept getting in the way."

"Exactly." Christian's leading up to something with this. "I hate to say it, but they've got us beat, man. We never got someone to deal with Lita, and she's done that hurricanrana crap to both of us! That's what usually messes us up." Christian continued to explain.

"If we have her…" Edge vigorously nods his head, waving his finger back at him. "I see where you're going with this man."

This was perfect! You swear you'd kiss Christian if you could. He's got you right where you need to be for the most part. A smile grows on Edge's face. "She can get rid of Lita! Dude, you're like, genius level of genius."

Genius level of genius? That’s original.

Christian takes that trophy out of Edge's hands for some reason. He snugly adjusts it in his arms, holding it as if he wouldn't let go.

Neither you nor Edge question it; they are more interested in getting rid of those Hardy Boys once and for all.

Well, you're only partly in on their fantasy. You had no idea how their feud went! The only question you have to ask is, "Are you guys going to be able to get us on the card for that?"

"You don't have to worry about that, [Name]. As the King of the Ring winner, I'll make sure it gets done!" Edge exclaims.

Aha! No wonder he had that trophy. It makes sense, but you're not sure how big of an achievement it was. As long as it got you on the card, you're good.

"Commissioner Regal is a real pain. Are you sure you're gonna be able to do it, dude?" Christian asks. "You know, it's always the Brits. He acts like he's got a stick up his ass."

"Don't worry about it. Me and you will go into his office." Edge pats his shoulder. "We'll get that match in no time."

You're down. "Okay then. You guys tell me when we go. I'll be ready. Edge, you said catering was down that way, right?"

He gives you a thumbs up, and you say goodbye. Maybe you'll see them more in the future, especially since you're teaming up now.

You turn your head behind you and see they're still watching you go. You decide to give them one final wave for real. Before you get to catering, you wait until you're a reasonable distance to pull out your phone and dial Shane up.

It's a quick detour, hitting a sharp left in the hallway. You're met with another room nearby, a gift from whatever god was out there, the janitor's closet.

It would be better to finish the call there, wouldn't it? No curious eyes, no listeners. It'll just be you. 

Your paranoia starts to spike because you're already peeking around the corner to see if anyone's there. The coast may be clear, but you won't take your chances. Closet it is.

You've already got your phone in your hand as you open the door. The only thing that would keep you company now were the cleaning supplies lined up on the shelves. 

You're already dialing Shane up once you close the door behind you. Most of your paranoia has subsided after closing it, and you keep your hand on the doorknob to ensure that no one else opens it to interrupt you.

Your back is turned, but what more should you be afraid of? Those mops and brooms? If anyone saw you going in, you'd say you needed some fresh air alone. Something like that.

"I wasn't expecting any company."

"My god!" You instinctively yell, jumping out of your skin. Goddamn it! Why would anyone be in the dark, in the janitor's closet of all places?! Your hand reaches for the light switch, flipping it on as soon as your fingers land on it. 

Just your luck. You walk into a squatter's home. You turn behind you to see a man sitting before you, slumped over with his curly hair falling in front of his eyes. "[Name], isn't it?"

Your hand is still on the doorknob. Would it be wrong to say you don't think you can leave yet? He knows your name. You're still alert. "Um, maybe. Why in the hell are you in here alone?" Other than being a total creep.

"Doing drugs. You want?"

He offers it to you so casually! You're taken aback, and it takes you a minute to reply. "No!"

"Relax, I'm joking. You're not a cop, are you? All I am here for is the silence. It's the only thing I can ever find peace of mind in." He says. 

You look at him and nod. "Right. Yeah. Okay. Well, this was all an accident. I have a really important call, so I'm gonna have to leave. Although a word of advice, maybe some pink would be good for your decor."

You're turning away from him, but he's saying something else the next thing you know.

"WCW shouldn't be alone in this fight. We need to take this company down. The WWF is fated to fall."

He makes you turn back around curiously. This may not be a squatter after all; he knows about WCW.

"Who exactly are you?"

As soon as you ask that question, the phone picks up. Shane's voice is loudly on the speaker, "Hello, [Name]? Are you alright?"

You immediately hold the phone to your ear. "What? Yeah. I'm fine. Can I call you back?"

"It's good to know it’s actually your name," the man says, setting his hands on his ankles to stand up from his spot. "Don't hang up now. The show's just starting." He comes closer to you, and you're already trying to hit buttons on your phone for some privacy.

"Don't suppose that's Shane McMahon on the phone? Let me talk to him. We're close. Real close." There's supposed to be excitement in his voice, yet it's delivered to you in the most monotone way possible.

"No, you can't talk to him! I mean, it's not Shane!" You try to cover your tracks, holding out your hand to him. "I have to go, so go do your drugs or whatever you were up to."

He doesn't leave you alone, instead reaching over and snatching the phone out of your hands. He lifts the phone in the air so you can't reach it, then turns away.

"Shane, can you hear me?" He asks, pulling the phone closer to his mouth. "Remember me?"

There's silence at first, and then Shane's voice comes from the phone. "Oh! Hey, Scotty! How're you doing?" You're in complete disbelief.

"You know this guy?!" You exclaim. "Shane, are you pranking me right now?!"

"I don't go by that anymore. It's Raven now. I'll be the first to tell you that ECW wants in. We've seen what's been going on."

"ECW as in Extreme Championship Wrestling?" Do they really want in? Any help is good, and it'd be two against one. You're not entirely against the idea. "Wait, give me my phone back! This isn't for you!"

"You're with [Name] right now?"

"Yeah. She's pretty aggressive. It goes to show what kind of women you surround yourself with, Shane." He comments.

"Who in the world told you that?" You ask, ignoring his snide remark. "Are you ECW's leader or something? I bet you don't have as much authority as I do."

"Okay, okay. There's no need to fight, guys." Shane is trying to be a peacemaker, doing his best to ease any tension. "Raven, if you can clue Paul Heyman in, we can discuss this in more detail in person. My invitation is extended to you, but I need to speak with [Name] for now. We can't proceed unless I talk with her first."

Thank god Shane was on your side. You can't fight the cheeky smile as you expectantly hold your hand out.

"Fine. I'll be the person to spread the message to him. The sooner, the better. Besides, no one wants to keep this outdated Nokia anyway." The sarcasm in his voice is the first emotion you've heard from him.

And you groan in response. For the love of god! Everyone needs to leave the Nokia alone! Raven begrudgingly hands it over and turns over to the door.

You'd think he'd say something else to you, but he only gives you one last glance before leaving.

"And stay out!" You yell behind him, slamming your palm onto the door.

"It's a pleasure to hear your voice, [Name]," Shane says. "I'm assuming you didn't just call me for some casual conversation before you were interrupted. What's going on?"

"Right, right. Before, I was so rudely interrupted." You say. "I ran into this guy Edge and his brother, Christian. They wanted me to team up with them to get rid of Lita. I figured it was a good opportunity to get myself out there. I'm also on my way to apologize to her after I finish talking to you. Is that alright?"

"Is what alright? You apologizing? I was the one that recommended you should—"

"No, no, that I'm even here. You called me a part of your dream team. Torrie told them our contracts were expiring soon. I played off that, but any smart person wouldn't get rid of their leader that fast. I don't want them to doubt me." At the end, you let out a sharp sigh.

Thanks to your explanations, no one's questioning you, but it's pretty easy to get caught up in a lie you tell.

"You worry a lot!" He laughs again, and you furrow your brows. "It'll be fine. A lot of those wrestlers aren't smarter than a bag of rocks. Trust me, I know this for a fact. My father's not any smarter. He has no idea what's coming to him, especially with ECW possibly helping us."

Talk about throwing people under the bus. It seems Shane's pretty relentless when it comes to his old employees. You're just glad you're not on the receiving end. Shane's been here longer than you, so you have no choice but to believe him.

However, you still feel hesitant. "Are you really sure?"

"How about this, then. I keep Torrie so she and Stacy can feud with Trish and Lita; you continue to play nice with the WWF since you're already there. You let them think that you're working your way to betray us when, in actuality, you're going to betray them."

Keeping Torrie after she told them that your contracts were expiring? That would be risky, along with you slotting into the roster. But you'll try and conform to it. "Okay, okay." You agree. "I think I can do that."

"Have some faith in me." It's like he can sense your hesitation. "More importantly, have some faith in yourself, [Name]. Was that all?"

The only thing you can do is try. "Yeah, I'll talk to you when I hear anything new."

"Alright then, you take care, [Name]."

Ending the call with those final words, you shove your phone back into your pocket. As much as you want to take a second to breathe, Lita's the next person on your list.

Opening the closet door, you head straight towards the double doors of catering. Oh boy, you hope Lita's in here. If not, you'll have to continue your journey elsewhere. You don't have all night, though.

You're met with a few unfamiliar faces when you open the door. They stare at you in confusion, which quickly turns into alarm. Some people even stand up from their seats.

You come in peace, for now! "Everyone can relax. I want to be on your side now. I came to apologize." You don't even beat around the bush.

Most are suspicious but still get back into their seats. What were they going to do anyway? You could defend yourself with one of these chairs if you needed to.

Scanning the room, you find the woman of the hour looking at you with wide eyes. You immediately approach her. A relieved smile appears on your face as your searching is no longer needed, tossing out your arms. "Lita!"

Just as you call her name, two men protectively stand before her. The only one you knew was Matt, although the other guy had a striking resemblance to him. Siblings, perhaps?

Matt was the one that had enough gall to get in your face. "You've got a lot of nerve showin' up here," Matt started, waving his finger at you. The southern twang in his voice almost makes you giggle. It's so out there.

You do your best to cover it by looking sad instead. "Tell me something I don't know. Sorry, but losing was your fault, though." That's one thing you had to make clear. "Tell me, was it nice when Trish kissed you? Did you even try to push her away?"

You pucker your lips toward him and kiss the air as he huffs at you. Matt is frustrated at your taunt and clenches his fist. What you say is true; you and Lita had your own business. Whatever he did in the ring was his responsibility.

Didn't mean you could tease him so freely about it, though.

He's going to say something else to you, but Lita shakes her head, getting up from her seat and stepping in front of him instead. "No, Matt. Just leave it. It's okay." And then she looks at you directly. "You must be really brave to show up here after what you did, or maybe you're just stupid."

It's the second time you've heard that tonight..

"Never stupid." You'd like to get that straight now. "Only apologetic." And for her to even say that makes you sure about your decision. You're glad you beat her up on Raw.

"I thought attacking you would prove my allegiance to Shane. He ordered it. I did it, but I see how wrong it is and how fucked up WCW is. After thinking about what I did to you, I wanted to come to this show and make things right."

It seems like you're taking a breath when, in actuality, you're trying to get your lies together. "I was sad and idling the halls. I want WCW to crash and burn. I have my allegiance and want it to be with all of you." You make sure to say it loudly enough so others can hear you.

"Well, I don't think any of us trust you." Matt cut in. "Something's not right about you."

"Matt, give the woman a break." The other guy says. "She's tryin' to help us. She apologized for what she did. I'm sure we've made some mistakes, so we could try and give her some credit."

Whoever this guy was with brightly dyed purple hair, you're glad he stepped in. You make a mental note to remember his face if he never introduced himself to you.

No, you won't let that happen. The only person you extend your hand to is him, although your proper introduction is meant for all of them. "I think we should get off on the right foot now. I'm [Name]. I want to be on your side now."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Lita and Matt share some telepathic looks. All you did was introduce yourself to him!

He reaches out his hand. "Jeff."

Matt's the one who brings Jeff back to Earth, smacking his shoulder. It makes Jeff retract his hand before you can even take it. "The hell are you doin'?! We can't trust her!" It's a whispered shout that you're in clear range of hearing, not that Matt cared.

Jeff shrugs at him, then holds his hands up. "I thought…”

"Hardy meeting," He points toward the door, sounding as stern as they come. "Right now. Lita, you do what you need to do with her."

Jeff slunks over to the door, and Matt is just about to follow, but Lita gives him a parting kiss before he goes. She mutters, "I love you," but Matt's already storming off to deal with Jeff to even reply.

"So, you two are an item after all. It wasn't just jealousy." You comment. The urge to make another Trish jab was strong, but by divine intervention, you didn't say it.

"Yeah. A year, now." She confirms.

That information goes right into the filing cabinet. You give a half-smile to her. "All of you are friends then?"

It's a bit tense between you two, but Lita replies anyway, albeit strained. "Yeah, uh, we're a team. They're brothers. Matt's the oldest."

It makes sense. They looked similar, and Matt used that authoritative tone when telling Jeff to go outside.

Either way, you decide to jump straight to the chase. "I'm gonna take this chance to clear the air while it's just me and you. Lita, I was being honest when I said I wanted to take WCW out. I've gotten so close to Shane McMahon that it would be a shame for all of us to waste this opportunity. Even out of all this, I want a friendly rivalry from you at most."

Friendly, yes, that's what you wanted. It's not like you'll stiff her in the ring or anything.

"Like they always say, it's just business, you know? No hard feelings."

Lita takes a minute to think about it, turning her head away from you and then turning back. "You know what? Fine. No hard feelings. I'll give you another chance, [Name]. But if you screw up again, I can't guarantee that I won't fight you about it."

"That is totally fine. Trust me, I won't mess up again. I'll be there to help you when our goals align." Your professional tone was leaking out...

This is partly thanks to the many creative meetings and other ventures you've had at WCW. Reassurance and composure are two ways to worm your way inside a company. "Is the food any good here, by the way?"

And you can understand if Lita doesn't fully trust you. If you were in her position, you wouldn't trust yourself either.

Lita shrugs. "I mean, yeah. It's alright, I guess. You'd have to try it yourself." You still do think she believes you, despite her dry responses. It's just more progess you need to make.

"Oh my gosh, [Name], right?"

Lita groans and tosses her head up toward the ceiling. Whoever said your name, Lita wasn't happy to see them.

You turn your head over to see Trish. "Could I have a moment?" She clasps her hands together.

It's like Lita gives you the same look she gave Matt, trying to tell you something without using her words. It's difficult for you to understand, so she instead decides to leave you two be.

"Do whatever the hell you want. She's all yours." She'll probably join that Hardy meeting if they're still out there.

The both of you watch her go, and once she's out, Trish gives you her undivided attention. "Lita's always been...catty. I mean, she's been bullying me since my debut! How crueler can you get? I don't understand why she doesn't like me. And here I am, trying to let creative put us together in case we have to go against WCW. Not you now, of course."

"Stacy Keibler. Torrie Wilson." You offer up their names. "Only two they'll probably pit you against. They're all they have now."

On another note, you're trying to understand why Lita disliked Trish that much. Well, it's obvious why she didn't like you, but that's only because you did something to provoke her into it.

As you recall, Trish did end up kissing Matt. It all makes sense now, Lita looking pissed about it as she retaliated. They're an item! It's no wonder Lita wants her out.

You'll let Trish figure out that part by herself some time. "Guess you've gotta get to know her a little better. You're Trish, right?"

"That's me. I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to say thank you. Lita was gonna rough me up some more if you didn't step in when you did." Her fingers move a few strands of hair out of her face. "I feel like I owe you. What do you say to lunch next Wednesday?"

Lunch with Trish? Looks like you're already getting in good with these superstars! "Fine with me."

"I'm sorry about Shane McMahon, by the way." She adds. "We need all the help we can get, and you deserve this spot. Guess all McMahon's are pigs."

All? Like, all of them? Not Shane, at least. Shane's been nothing but pleasant and respectful to you. Unlike your previous boss, Eric Bischoff, who you were sure hated your guts with the way he treated you.

"Oh yeah, probably. I wouldn't be surprised. Even my old boss was a sleazeball." You mention.

You always thought he preferred Stacy to you when booked in certain segments. You and "Miss Hancock" were always set together when possible, but she was always going over most of the time.

At first, you had a time when you resented Stacy, putting a strain on your relationship for months. But you slowly came to terms with the fact that it was never her fault. It was management. You'd bring up your problems to Eric, and he'd dangle your contract over your head. He was quick to tell you that you didn't have to stay. Could head back right to your hotel.

That's something you don't miss.

"Then I guess we've both had some problems with our bosses, huh?" Trish mused. "It's not a very good thing, but it makes me feel better to know I'm not alone."

You're not sure what history she's had with Vince McMahon, but if she was comparing her situation to your own, then she's definitely seen some shit. You'll have to ask her about it over lunch.

Honestly, you're happy she was so sweet. Considering you saved her skin, it was fair, but hospitality goes a long way for you right now.

"Did you want to sit with me? I've got an extra seat right next to me." She uses both of her thumbs to point to her left.

"I don't see why not," You smile. Let me get something to eat first." You're already sauntering off towards the table of different foods as you hear her say, "I'll just be over here then."

You have no idea where to start. To distract yourself for only five seconds, you grab a plate. Then you're already back to square one. What do you want to eat?!

Fruit, muffins, salad, you name it, they've got it. Everything looks appealing, and it's damn near stressing you out.

You make a mental apology to Trish because you're definitely going to be here for quite a while.

as i said on the ao3 ver, i envisioned 90s look raven because that’s probably my favorite iteration of that asshole. and this is actually really fun to write since I can build up relationships 😭 i kinda cringe seeing my old writing but im happy u guys really liked it!! Thanks for reading :D

[zombielesbean]

the release of Grey Area was interesting because... well, lemme just lay it out for ya:

literally the morning the game released, my grandma died it wasn't unexpected at all, so it didn't hit me particularly hard, and I am not a person who feels much when anyone dies anyway, but, I was always really close with my grandma, and she always loved and was supportive of my gamedev stuff, so like. you can imagine, that's not the most stable mental platform to be releasing the biggest game project you've ever released on, heh

later the first day of release, our first review rolls in - negative

oof

more reviews are coming in and most are positive, but each negative one - and there were a few - like a knife stabbing me. that's three years of my life out there now! I wasn't prepared for how incredibly vulnerable that would feel - each of my previous game projects had only taken a year or less

on top of this, the bug reports are coming in.. we'd tested this game to hell and back, both ourselves and with outside game testers.. but again. biggest project I've ever made. more stuff got through than I was prepared for

mental health is deteriorating, I'm staying up all night continuing to fix bugs and make small changes to the game

a fairly large streamer plays the game - doesn't like the bosses that much, especially the latter two, admits he was going to send gift copies to random viewers but has now decided he "doesn't want to inflict the game on other people" and doesn't believe the game had playtesters

internal screaming increasing

I'm still working every day and night on this thing, we're getting much more positive feedback than negative but like oh my god is it rough I don't know what to do with all this attention and then we have someone show up in the discord server to essentially debate me about all the choices I made making the game and it gets to where it's just like please leave me alone I'm sorry you didn't like it but other people do and I made it the way I personally wanted because its my project and aaaaaaaaa I'm dying out here

and with all this stress building the thing that did me in was our biggest fan, as in, the most prominent person who was interested in our game, and who had made several useful suggestions about the game I had happily implemented - well, let's just say I fucked up in communication with them and woosh - all that good will out the door

extremely negative review, they don't even talk about the game, they just talk about the miscommunication they had with me

I felt like I was a sitcom character working in a restaurant and I'd tried to please the food critic coming to town and tripped and spilled all the food over them

and that may sound funny but like. it broke me. like. that was it, my stress reached its boiling over point and like. as soon as I saw that review I just. left the house and walked around the neighborhood with my girlfriend. like speedwalking, she could barely keep up with me, and then like. I did not speak or eat or drink for like two entire days. it was. not good

and like at that point I thought the whole thing was ruined and I'd just wasted those three years and I felt like the biggest idiot of all time for fumbling that situation like that

but like. that was the last negative review we ever got, the game has a 9/10 rating as of now and like. that's really really good actually, I have every right to be proud of this project, and I have absolutely loved watching so many people play it and stream it and enjoy it and hearing everyone's thoughts about it

but damn those first few weeks were rough as hell, and I hope it never goes like that again when I release a game, or at least, I will be better prepared, heh

when you put your everything into a project, especially when it's for a long time, the more vulnerable it makes you when you finally release it to the public, I think that's the biggest lesson to learn here for me

[tpher]

scary girl analysis !

something something the most clearly gimmicky gen 4 character we know. as your resident pahkitew island apologist, i dont care. it actually took me a bit to warm up to her and i figured id talk abt why that is

so her main thing is being creepy and sadistic for the sake of jokes. its not serious.. mostly. she does prove to actually be down to hurt others (such as when she got a hold of a jackhammer). but what about an instance where she wanted to hurt someone for actual reasons? when was that?

that was when priya went up to her to compliment her on doing a good job on the previous challenge. priya says that shes surprised by scary girl having done a good job.

scary girls response?

a very defensive "oh, it surprised you that i was good? cuz you thought id do bad?"

and thats the thesis of this post

scary girl is very insecure

backing up for a moment, in ep 2 when the teams were on ships and attacking each other, she was the one who came up with the idea of sinking the other teams ship as an idea on what to do when they were out of ammo (? iirc). but no one else heard that, just zee

then in ep 3, ripper makes her go last in the relay race thing bc he didnt want her to "blow things" for the team. she reacts by trying to bite his finger. not with a funny creepy smile, but with genuine anger to her literal bite. and then during that challenge, she infamously grabs a bear by the arm and starts beating it up while saying "thats what you get for growling at me!!!". once shes done, she goes "byeee" and goes on like nothing happened. proving that if someone wrongs her, she can easily let it go.. so long as she gets to do something back. remember this for later

and here we come back to her interaction with priya. so far, scary girl has proven herself to be a pretty alright player and she herself knows that. so the notion of someone being SURPRISED she did well?? does not sit well with her at all. but the way that she harps on the wording, even before zee steps in to make it worse, is what gets to me. it just really adds an extra layer to her character that, well. ironically surprised me! for someone who always seems to be in her own world, so unconventional, so ill-fitting with everyone else to also be insecure in some capacity?

anyway she tries to hurt priya with a spoon but gets interrupted. later on, priya is still thinking abt their encounter and feels bad so she tries to make it up to scary girl by flattering her. namely by saying that scary girls question was smart.. and priya being her awkward self, only dug herself in a hole by making it seem like that was a smart question by scary girls standards

scary girl is speechless. baffled. mad beyond words

it should be noted that scary girl looked offended when priya even started speaking. meaning that she also did not forget about their conversation that morning. she REALLY took it to heart. applying the bear logic here, had scary girl hurt her with the spoon earlier, would she be less mad? would she had considered each other even? and in that case, would this comment go over better or would it had simply restarted her need for revenge?

well. they dont interact for the rest of the episode up until the very end. after ripper used priya as a human shield, obviously injuring her

scary girl tells her that rippers a jerk and that priya didnt deserve that. so she'll be voting to get ripper out. and calls priya her "friend".

(her face and tone makes me a bit suspicious if this was genuine. but thats probably just her being her offputting self so i'll ignore it.) ok so by scary girl logic, priya deserved to have SOMETHING bad coming her way after what she said to her.

but not this.

scary girl, who came here to "make friends and watch them get really hurt", was not okay with what ripper did to priya. perhaps she thinks that only she could be allowed to hurt priya to balance things out? personally giving priya her karma, perhaps?

but now she considers priya a "friend". who likely wants to see her get hurt. but in the fun way that scary girl likely sees most other contestants as, possibly? idk.

anyway after all of that, we can see just how insecure scary girl can get over unintentionally awkward phrasing. just how deeply it hurts her feelings to be underestimated like that

season 2 spoilers ahead !!!

in season 2, we see even less of her. but there is SO much to work with

normal girl is so fascinating to me

by the time s2 starts, scary girl already has an all new look. shes trying to be "normal"

she admits in her confessional that some ppl thought she was too scary in the first season so thats why she changed her appearance and her everything. who were these ppl?

other than a dog as a joke, online forums, showing an interesting glimpse into the in-universe ""real world"" stepping into total drama. perhaps also a meta joke on the fandoms response to her but who knows. imagine unabashedly being yourself on tv and everyone is telling you to change. you are 16 and likely going through a weird phase. feeling a lot of heightened emotions already and ""knowing"" that this is who you are (at the moment). and if its not a phase? still 16 on international television getting lambasted by millions

and last but not least, her MOM??? her own mother. that just raises more questions abt how scary girl was before getting on td. was she NOT like this before? was she playing it up for the cameras? or did she just go unhinged without parental supervision? in any case the fact is that even her own mom wasnt okay with what makes her happy and how she presented herself.

so scary girls solution? to try her best to suppress anything that made her unique. to try to adhere to "societal norms", in her own words.

we dont see much of her in this ep other than her commenting on how shes normal and totally did not want to see someone get hurt. shes clearly struggling so bad. she knows that apparently what she likes isnt "right", therefore the opposite must be true, right?

she is simultaneously so immediately different that the others didnt even recognize her at first. yet still so "scary" that she cant fit in. she just doesnt know how no matter how hard she tries. if she were to stay longer, what can she do? this game is not only abt your skills in the challenges its also a social thing. how long until she snapped and went back to her old ways?

and then we get to the campfire ceremony. chef is about to call out whatever it was the she did wrong that day, but she interrupts him with a simple "no."

she cannot fathom being sent home, at least not this early. bc shes normal! she is sooo normal and she tried SO HARD to be normal! she read normal books and normal movies and studied normal people. she even taught herself to smile in a more acceptable way, which is so autistic coded to me. so she deserves to stay longer.

(getting flashbacks to my topher psychoanalysis and his entitlement being both a tragedy and his self-imposed downfall)

..but she studied "normal people" in her own not-normal way. while they werent looking. while they were sleeping. while they had no idea she was there.

so she got booted out for that. and she cannot believe it.

when she says that she "didnt even try to hurt anyone this time", she is mad. that was her ""fun"" and she managed to control it 100% only to get eliminated??? shes fed up!

but when she talks about how she taught herself how to smile in a "less-creepy" way?

she softens up and looks genuinely hurt.

she tried so hard. she saw all those horrible comments from people judging her based on like 5 episodes on a reality show. her own mother didnt accept her. her insecurity won and she aimed to change and repress everything that made her unique

and it still wasnt enough

[she-whatshername]

A couple in bed settling in for evening: Goodnight Dear

Their partner: Goodnight love, oh I forgot to tell you -

Me busting through their bedsheets: You Forgot to tell them about Tyrrish Men Headcanons you voted for last week, didn’t you dear?!

*Couple proceeds to scream

AN: Welcome back to another edition of Tyrrish Men Headcanons you did vote for, love languages edition. Also, you know what I found out about Love Languages, the author who wrote them is actually a controversial and, in my opinion, quite terrible person Lolol. All of this to say, I still wrote it and I like what wrote as a headcanon but damn, The more you knowww

Garrick:

What he gives: Acts of Service

This man THRIVES on helping and taking care of others

Probably has a multiple plans running in his mind at all times, with several back up plans waiting in the wings

He’s the son of the aide of the former Duke and leader of the rebellion

He’s also Xaden’s best friend, which is literally something I would put on my resume

I successfully handle Xaden and probably spared you from his wrath at one point without you knowing. Hired on the spot Lolol

He just knows what to do and just does it. If you need help with hand-to-hand, he’s already got a training schedule down and is telling you when to meet up. He also knows your schedule so he’s factored that in as well.

Would absolutely bring you breakfast in bed if you weren’t a morning person and would get you a cuppa tea at night if you had trouble going to sleep

Yeah he would make a sarcastic quip here and there to be funny about always taking care of you but he thrives off it and it gives him pride to know that he knows you so well that he can be of help to you

Like, the moment you start doing stuff that he does for you he’s like….”babe, did I do something wrong??”

Also…if we being NSFW about it…he takes his pride of acts of service from the streets to the sheets. From the Dais to the Dorms if you will. He knows what you need in all the right places

What he needs: Physical Touch

I think he’s touched starved. Hence the many mares this man has had in his stables

Though, I think it’s prolonged touches, the genuine caresses that he desires most, but is scared to act on it as the emotion of it all can be too much.

Hug. This. Man.

Hold his hand.

Just hold him in general. You probably can’t get your arms around his broad shoulders but you’ll be able to put his ego in a hug and that’s all that matters.

Put both of your hands on either sides of his face, your thumbs caressing his cheeks and lean in for a kiss….he’s swooning.

The scenario: After a rather tough battle with Wyvern during the RIorson House months, Garrick returns bruised and weary. You immediately suggest a bath. He resists at first. His years at Basgiath and taking an effective 90 second shower has ruined him for moments of self care. But, you promise him that you’ll be there too, taking care of him. You sit on the edge of the tub as he soaks in the water; you take your time caressing his skin with a cloth, cleansing the dirt and the pain off his body. Your nails dig into his scalp, soothing his thoughts as you massage the foams around his curls. He’s practically groaning with every touch you give him. He’s praising you in both Tyrrish and the common language, mixing the two into ineligible sentences. By the time you’re ready to apply the conditioner he’s begging you to join him, and drags you in fully clothed to hold you and show you his appreciation for your love for him.

Bodhi:

What he gives: Words of affirmation

I meant, he probably does all of them very well. But I think his words of affirmation are just unbelievable.

The way he speaks to you, its so honest, real, and genuine.

He notices details about you, and knows you well enough that when he does give you praise and recognition, its truly heartfelt.

If you change something about yourself he’s the first to notice. A little quip like “New hair, Y/N.” While you’re walking down the hall.

If you get a good grade in class he’s embracing you with, “I knew you could do it, love. You were working so hard each night. Did you miss any points? It wasn’t that history question, was it? I knew you’d get that one right.”

If you sneeze like once the next day he’s checking in asking if you’re feeling alright or if your symptoms have gotten worse.

When you take down an opponent on the mat with a newer move you’ve been rehearsing and you look over to him he’s mouthing the words “Amazing” or “perfect”

If you’re a rider he’s probably guessed your signet already because he just knows you well enough to have a good guess on what it is. “Mending, huh? I knew it; you always said you wanted to take care of others. The Healer quadrant is going to be thanking you for lightening their workload now that you’ve manifested.”

LIke WTF he’s perfect your honor

Also, this man writes letters like is POETRY. Will sneak notes or letters into your belongings. When he’s on a mission for a few days he’s writing a letter each night and giving them to you when he sees you again.

Actually, I’m going in on this one, he’s written you poetry before. And it was perfect.

What he needs: Quality time

I think he realizes the true value of spending time with someone and knowing the pain of not having enough time with those he loves.

And when you make time for him, he just glows with appreciation

Give him your full attention, eye contact. No distractions like studying or revolution planning. Go for a walk around the quadrant. Have dinner with him at the kitchen table in RIorson house.

Just you and him

The Scenario: It’s been really hard to find quality time with Bodhi since you’ve arrived at Riorson house. You’re busy tending to the wounded riders and fliers to give Brennan a break and he’s out on missions, sometimes days at a time. When he’s back, he’s making plans with Xaden and Garrick. And when he is in bed with you he’s so tired he’s falling asleep instantly, sometimes in mid sentence. So, one day when he’s getting ready to head out on another mission you say, “Let me walk you to the flight field. Just you and me, okay?” You hold his hand, or link arms together and walk. You talk about everything that doesn’t have to do with the revolution and just bask in each other’s company. You give him a long, deep kiss before he climbs up Cuir and takes off. When he arrives home, you’re waiting for him. After a welcoming and warm kiss, you two walk back down to Riorson house together, hand in hand talking about the flora, the seasons changing, how much you’ve missed him. It’s not about the mission or what happened, its you and him. You make it a priority that every mission he’s out on you walk up together and back down together. Xaden and Garrick know this too and make a point not to interrupt your time together.

Xaden:

What he gives: Giving Gifts

It’s kind of a blend of acts of service, but its rooted in giving gifts

The gifts are truly heartfelt, an their purposeful.

Just think about him and Violet. The saddle, the dagger, the weaving book the JAR OF VIOLETS. The new furniture. He loves a good gift. Did many of those gifts come with unspoken secrets that should have been discussed prior to giving the gifts yes but THAT IS NOT THE POINT MY FRIENDS. He may be physically perfect but he is a young adult male…also he’s not Bodhi who is perfection so there’s that, Lolol

What Xaden is so good at with his gifts is that many of the ones he gives to you are not extravagant, they’re sentimental. It’s the “I was thinking of you when I saw this, because you’re always on my mind” vibes.

He gifts you a new uniform when its ripped during a challenge on the mat

He’ll probably rope Garrick and Bodhi to be the delivery person of said gifts when he’s not around either.

In the quadrant, he knew that you loved to cook. You often spoke about how you would make all the meals for your family growing up and even though you were doing well at making friends, you missed your family terribly. So, he gifted you the cooking duties when he was handing out assignments to each section. You were thrilled and didn’t mind waking up early each morning. At Riorson house, you had full range of the kitchens there too. And, during a mission he acquired a copy of a cookbook from your Provence filled with recipient of local dishes, in the language your family spoke

To get a gift from Xaden, it would be the best honestly

What he needs: How much time do we have Lolol - but its words of affirmation

I’ve always wondered what Xaden was like before the apostasy. Like, was he always moody, evasive and distant?

Bet he was still was cocky smartass though.

I ask this because over the years of the apostasy, foster care, Basgiath, The Assembly, all of the things basically, he’s become a very secretive person and withholds a lot from people. For his own survival and those he’s bound to protect. With that, I think of all the ways he needs love, I think words of affirmation are an absolute must for him.

I image he’s a guy who needs to ‘see it to believe it’ and in Xaden’s case, hear it to believe it.

You can spend time with him, touch him, take care of him, and all of that will be appreciated. But if you tell him how you feel, tell him how he makes you feel…

Give him those three words…give him all the words honestly. He needs it.

We know this shadowy asshole heartthrob can throw down some words of affirmation and gives a declaration of love like no other.

Once he hears how you feel for him, once he hears your declaration of love for him….clear your calendar for the rest of time friend, he’s taking up all of it.

The scenario: You’re tired of Xaden’s elusiveness when it comes to your ‘not really, but really’ relationship. You get it, he’s a wingleader and has so much on his hands, but he’s practically tiptoeing around you. Leaving you in the dark, literally and physically from his life. You love him but outside of his status in the quadrant you know nothing about him. But, you know something is up. The way he talks with Garrick and Bodhi. His ‘now he’s here, now he’s not’ elusiveness. The way the marked ones have such high regard for him. You dont want to push him into sharing something he’s not willing to, but you just want him to know that you’re all in, no matter what. So, during one afternoon when he’s been extra elusive with you, providing another half truth on where he was for the past two days you finally snap, “Xaden. Cut the shit will you.” That stops him in his tracts. He gives you a hard stare while you continue, “I…I need you to hear me when I say I love you. I love you as the WIngleader, I love you as the rider, I love you as Xaden who kisses my forehead every night before you sneak off back to you room…and yes I know you do that thinking I’m asleep. And I know you have…secrets. And I know that they are yours to keep. Xaden, I love them too. I know nothing about them, but I love them, because they’re yours. And one day, if you trust me enough to tell me, I’ll be here. And if you don’t trust me, that’s okay too. I love all that you’ve shown me more than I fear what you hide from me. So, just remember that, okay-“ He cuts you off before you can finish with his lips against yours. His hands grasping your shoulders as if he was the only thing keeping you in place. “Soon.” Is all he whispers as he kisses you again and again, “I can’t…but soon. I promise. Soon.” You smile against his lips, and you agree, “Soon.”

Liam - In the theme of ‘soon.’ , If you enjoyed the above let me know and I will update with a part two featuring Liam.

[tilthedayidice]

Hey welcome back to my BG3 Hot Takes

While I have your attention, here's a cool site to help Palestine, all you gotta do is click it daily.

This session was inspired by @lipsie, gettin me ttalkin way too much. Yes I am aware that the tadpole changes things, and they have to make it balanced for the game blah blah blah- let a bitch complain.

Screenshots sourced from the Baldur's Gate 3 Wiki

Gale is the only character I feel is spec'd correctly, He's smart but fiuckin stupid, he has autism rizz, mam could not lift any box you asked him to, the only reason his constitution is 13 is because he's been dealing with the Orb and he's used to it by now.

Karlach should start with 20 strength and you CANNOT convince me otherwise, her charisma should be higher also, she's a ball of sunshine and could put the fear of god into anyone, and the line "Gods I wanna ride you til you see stars" will never leave my brain. Give this bitch a 15. She do be a little dumb I'll give you that.

Shadowheart is just funny to me, How can her wisdom be a 17 when she's been cloistered away for so long? Her wisdom is only a 17 in ONE SPECIFIC SUBJECT, a subject where she's forced to give up her memories. Memories are where we get our wisdom. Wisdom is gained through lived experiences, I'd give you the 17 for endgame Shart, but not start of game Shart. I'll take the 8 CHA cause she's a bitch (said with love, me too babe) but she knows enough to get what and where she wants so I think we should nudge it up to like 10.

Lae'zel.... I think it's unfair to put Lae'zel's intelligence at 10. Her wisdom being low, yeah i get that she's been cloistered away in a society that believes its the only way, it's all she knows. But intelligence? No. She might know much about Faeruns culture and people, but she knows EVERYTHING about the stars. And there's far more of that than there will ever be of Faerun. She's the funniest person we know, give her 9 CHA.

Wyll my beloved, do you airbrush those abs on? Do you wake up every morning and contour them? I DON'T BELIEVE YOU DO!!!!!!!!! SO WHO'S THE ASS WHO DECIDED YOUR STRENGHT WAS A FUCKIN 8??????? THE BLADE OF FRONTIERS SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST A 13. He deserve a 15 but I know they won't give it to him. Lipsie and I were talking about him and they're right, WHEN WE DUMP THE BITCH HE SHOULD RESPEC INTO BARD.

Astarion..... oh Astarion.... you're such a disaster. Such a wet cat of a man. Such a pathetic little mew mew. I shit on him a lot, but I do really love his character and development lol. LESS STR MAKE HIM WEAK, he has been starved and living off rats and shame, he can have his measly 8 AFTER he drinks... uh "Thinking" Blood. His CHA being 10 is perfect actually no notes. I personally think his actual INT should be lower, not too much lower, maybe 11/12, I knooooow he was a magistrate, but you can't tell me he's not giving himbo... no what was that word on the meme graph? Himbim? Himbim.

Halsin.......... 10 STR? 10?!?!?!?! You built him LIKE THAT and give him 10 STR?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!? What in the nine hells...... Weaker than Karlach of course, but 10????? Give that man 15 at least 8 INT???????????? 8???????? LARIAN WHY DO YOU HATE HIM???? Is it because he isn't Gale? Mans has been studying the mindflayers on his own, he's been studying the shadow curse... on his own. HE'S A MASTER HEALER?!?!?! AN ARCHDRUID?!?!?!?!?!?!? That takes time, study, and dedication. You wanna assign him himbo so bad. He's just a whole well rounded man with autism,. (Not a dig on himbos, quite literally my favorite genre of Man). This is just 'cause he fucks isn't it.

Minthara she's so much smarter than Larian gives her credit for. While I agree with the WIS, that's more a product of being so closed off, Her INT is much higher. I'd give her a 14? She cunning, just because it's used for Evil deeds doesn't mean she hasn't been she hasn't put a lot of thought into her work. She lived in Menzoberranzan for Gods' sake. She had to be smart or be killed?!? She's said so on multiple occasions! Just because she's Evil aligned doesn't mean she not smart. (She's just as smart as our average Bear according to Larian)

Minsc...... First off let me say that I love that they chose this image. A Bad Bitch. Anyways, anyone who doesn't find that dumb happy face charming is either lying or literally has a stick up their ass.... 12 CHA. Also why is he so weak? I know he isn't like actually weak... but mans chunked that mimic? Let him have 14.

Jaheira I'll give you the 10 STR, she's complained about her knees like three times in my most recent session. 8 INT? So what I'm getting here.... is anyone not an origin character is just baseline 8? Lazy. Especially considering she was ALREADY GIVEN STATS IN TWO PREVIOUS GAMES. In both BG1 and BG2 she has an intelligence of 10, and if anything she's only gotten smarter over time. I wasn't gonna do this... but left is 1 right is 2.

15, 14, 17, 10, 14, 15, and 15, 17, 17, 10, 14, 15

Make it make sense. I know she's old at this point, but in my game she killed Sarevok again so idk man.

Rip me apart in the notes ;)

But do it nicely...

[lunetoone]

eyes only for me

summary, after you practically flirted infront of him, he has to teach you exactly who makes you feel good and who is in charge of you.

⊰⁠⊹ childe x f!reader

you can't help yourself, youre a extroverted person. whats so wrong with making new friends? to childe its basically cheating. you were only laughing to zhongli because of inside jokes you two often make and the dad jokes he cracks up.

childe scoffs, you've never made inside jokes with him before. all of the dad jokes he makes you reply with blank stares so why are you so friendly with the geo archon? what is possibly so funny that the geo archon is laughing to himself. all he's supposed to do is collect materials and protect his nation. this cant do , childe has to put a stop to this.

"okay i think thats enough chatter for today, letsgo home love" he doesnt give you time to even wish zhongli goodbye, he pulls you home and his grip on you will most definitely leave a mark on you the next morning.

"what's wrong childe? you seem mad?" inside your house you can't help but notice how distressed childe is. you hold out your hand to touch his bicep, his hands crossed staring at you with a stern face he never does unless he's very serious.

"ha.. really? after flirting with zhongli there you think im not mad ?" he runs his hands through his hair a smirk forms. "what? childe we were just talking, plus i dont even see him like that" your eyebrows furrow in confusion, you decide to take a different approach on this and come closer to him your bodies inches away from being clinged together. "childe you know i love you, you're irreplaceable and i would do anything for you.." your doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes makes childe bite his lips slightly, avoiding eyecontact and instead staring at your flushed chest exposed from the revealing clothing youre wearing. "anything?" he asks with the most devious smirk on his face, his eyes trailing everywhere on your body except your eyes. you pause to yourself, realising just how bad of a position you're in.

you smile, "anything."

hear you are, your clothes long thrown to the side. neck and chest full of hickeys and your lips red from kissing, eyes tearing of frustration and your fingers deep into your cunt. "please childe.. cant.. need you" his smirk turns to a smile as he watches your fingers try to please you knowing the only person who can make you cum through fingers is him.

"i told you right? cum with your fingers and only then can you ride me." you whine at the comment he makes, crying even more because you can't reach the spot he never fails to reach with ease. your eyes are closed, only focused on pleasing yourself.. being too focused you loose your pleasure having to start over.

you open your eyes and infront of you is childe stroking his cock lazily as he his eyes are trained on your pussy. the sight makes you wet and with effort you cum with a slight moan of his name. he chuckles when you cum.

"here, come ride me" you immediately sit up and make your way to childe, straddling him, he positions you and slams you down making you moan loudly and grip his shoulders. "shit.. so tight" he throws his head back, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat "ha..go on move, you want to prove your loyalty to me right?"

you whine and raise yourself only to slam down again with a moan and grunts from childe. the pleasure making your legs shake and your movements slow, your head now in childes neck as your arms hugs him. your cries and moans only heard louder from childe making him even harder than before. his hands grab your ass and grinding you on his dick slowly, "ah.. god you feel so good, only my dick can make you moan- shit- like this right?" youre too drunk on his dick you only whine in agreement.

his hand now moved to your waist as he makes you bounce on his cock, your fucked out face for him to see and your tits bouncing. his fast movements makes you feel waves of pleasure, your head tilting back and mouth agape. "ah god.. can zhongli fuck you like this? make you feel good like this? only i can.."

his name being the only thing on your mind right now, feeling too good you can't think about anything else. "shit im gonna cum, cum with me please ah.."

his pace fasten and one hand now rubbing on your clit making you moan abundant of noise and incoherent blabbers, mostly it being too much and his name.

with a loud moan you came and your body drops to him panting as he continues to ride your orgasm out, with a slam he groans loudly head thrown back and the grip on your waist tightening. you too stay there for a second, his cock deep inside you with his seed. he looks at you and pick you up, laying you down on the bed.

"we're not over just yet, i want the entirety of liyue to hear just how good i make you feel.."

[ghostiiess]

[NSB HEADCANONS] - them taking care of you when you’re pregnant!

synopsis: title says it all!

warnings: mention of morning sickness, vomiting, pregnancy stuff… some mistakes here and there

type: fluff

members: everyone

wc: around 200 by members? i think? so around 1.4K

not feeling 100% great atm, so im sorry if theres mistakes :((

reblogs and likes are very appreciated!

OLIVER MOY - the one who would support you by doing the tasks / giving you compliments during that period

The sweetest man

He would literally be the best dad, fr

LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN HIM WITH KIDS??? (Talking abt the members rn 🤣)

He would do all the tasks for you

And compliment you!

Oli would make sure that you eat food and drink your water

« And here’s for you, my love!!! Your favorite pasta! »

he would be soooo supportive 🥹

« Hey baby, I’ll take care of it! Go rest yourself, alright? »

« c’mon my love. Go take a break, I’ll do the chores! »

He’s literally the man we all wish we had in our life

« You look so beautiful with that baby dump »

« our baby will be so pretty »

« Do you think they will have my eyes or yours? Gosh, i hope they will have yours.. yours are so pretty »

OLIVER MOY, STOP BEING SO DAMN CUTE LIKE???

He would literally be the cutest man alive during this time (as if he wasnt enough sweet like that)

like tell me if im wrong (im not)

(Others members under the cut!)

SEBASTIAN MOY - the one who would try to make you laugh / smile

Listen…

This man would try to make the time less crampy

less painful too

Remember the video where he took the pregnancy test? He was screaming.

He knows you’re strong enough, and everything… but he hates seeing you in pain (even though its normal since ur literally pregnant lol)

So, obvs since he know it hurts, he would try to make the time less hard for you :( bc he know that the test and the pregnancy state is two completely different things

he took the pregnancy test and it hurted him so bad... he can't imagine it must be for you

But if he can make the time less painful by making you laugh / smile, he would do it

This man would buy flowers.

I just see him walking in ur house and being like « hey, here’s flowers for the future mommy »

Also, he would try to crack jokes here and there

Pregnancy jokes, even!

« Why did the pregnant woman go on a picnic? Because she was craving a little something extra! »

thank you seb for this joke 😐

He would also bring your favorite food / drinks 🥤

He would search them on google and he would be so proud

"im gonna be the funny one in this family"

He’s the energetic member of the group, but for you, he would try to rest and not move too much 🥲 like this man would, surprisingly, be calm (only for you, babe)

Seb would be such a good supporter too, although affirmations is not his first love language, he would be super cute. i promise you :)

RYAN NGUYEN - the one who would help you with ur cravings / the one who try to make you relax

He would judge you so bad for ur cravings

But he would buy them for you

Why? Bc even though he thinks its weird, he knows it could make u happy and make you smile

And him seeing your smile can easily make his day 😚

« babe, i love you with all my heart, i truly do, but… why are you putting bananas in apple sauce and yogourt…? »

But he loves you! (sometimes hes giving you a side eye)

Also… he would literally take care of everything

A bit like Oliver would do :)

« Babe, don’t worry abt it! I can take care of it »

« Need help? Alright, wait a sec »

He would quit his game for you in like 0.3844843 sec

« What the fuck just happened?!?!- baby? Need help? Yeah, one sec… alright boys, im heading out » (he would say smth like that)

« Go relax, my love. I can do it »

« Baby… stop overworking yourself! I know you can do it, but i want you to relax… you’ve been working all day »

Also, even thought it doesn’t look like it, he would be super supportive

He’s just more an ‘actions’ than a ‘word’ kind of person

JUSTIN PHAN - the one who would send you voices messages during your day to make sure ur taking care of urself and not overworking / help you with your morning sickness

Justin would be the type to grab his phone during a really important moment and just text you / give u voice messages

Although he know u love helping around in the house and doing ur tasks, he make sure that you don’t get overworked

« Hey baby, im with the boys at the store… do u need anything at the store? »

This man’s would also help you during the morning sickness

He just want the best for you 😁

Jp look like the person who knows when there’s a problem without you having to say it

« Hey baby, is everything okay? »

Like idk why but he look like the type that would read faces lol

he has this gut feeling, what can i say?

« Hold on, drink that glass of water, okay? Deep breath, baby… »

« Yeah, just like that »

If he see you vomiting, he would take ur hair up and pat ur back

« it’s okay baby, let it all out, everything's gonna be fine»

«  if anything happen, wake me up alright? I want to be there for you »

Like for sure, seeing vomit is not the most aesthetic thing he saw, but he knows that it’s normal

KANE RATAN - the one who would massage you and listen to you

this man would be so cute.

I literally said that to everyone 💀 but it’s true

We all know how kane give good massages

This man know what he’s doing!

He probably took massages classes when he was younger, bc this man would give u the best massage ever

« come here, i will give you a lil’ massage, baby… let me knock out the stress away! »

Also, during the massage…

He would literally let you talk about your pregnancy, how the cramps are, how is it… or just random stuff haha

In others words: let you vent abt what ur going through during that time, because he knows its not always easy

« Tell me if it hurt, okay? I don’t want to hurt you »

Also, i feel he would be the type to ask this question:

« Do you think we’ll have a girl or a boy? »

« if im being honest, i don’t really mind if its a girl or a boy… as long as they’re happy, im happy »

« Do you think we could play anime music? Do you think it would make them a fan of AOT? Or we could play one piece!! omg baby, do you think they would like aot or one piece more? »

Not Kane wanting to make ur future baby (not even borned yet lol) a fan of AOT… such a relaxing and childish anime, wow!!!

DARREN LIANG - the one who would cook for you and kiss ur cramps away

We all know how Darren is a great cook

So I’m sure he would love to cook for you :)

« hey babe, i just cooked ur favorite meal! »

Isn’t he so cute? 🥹

The con is that he would judge your cravings.. like Ryan.

BUTTTTT he know it can make you happy, so he would obviously make them for you if it can make you happy!

Also, he would kiss your cramps away

To me, he looks like such a sweetheart when it come to pain or smth like that

« Hey baby, are you okay? »

« Do you want me to help you? »

A bit like Kane, dar’ would give you a little massage

« You’re so cute baby »

And he would kiss you 🤭 bc it’s Darren we’re talking abt!

also, if ur in the mood... its ur lucky day!! bc this man's always in the mood!

« Are you feeling a bit better? »

« Come and rest next to me, alright? »

He’s such a sweetheart, woah

REGIE MACALINO - the one who would go shopping with you for baby clothes / decorations

He would be the best dad ever, no joke

He would buy soooo many decorations and clothes, like we all know how regie has style, like there’s absolutely no way his son / daughter won’t have style too

And even if regie says « i put whatever i want » like okay maybe he do, but like it is styled in a way that i can’t explain lmaooo

I’m sorry, he just seem to be the type to search a bit in store, then on pinterest to see what would look good lol 🫢

I’m sure regie would be the type to search on Pinterest some baby decorations

Btw, your baby's room would be sooo messy, im so sorry

Regie would only look for cool bedsheets and fun decorations, but not for organizer bc have you seen his room?? Guys, it’s a bit messy im sorry

So regie wouldn’t be the type to buy organizer, BUTTTTTT he would make sure to let (try) the piece clean with his kid if it can make you happy

Regie seems tough, but he’s indeed a big sweetheart

He has sm love for us the star (his fan) so imagine for his kid-

He would be the cutest dad ever, like I’m sure regie would be there for his kid in all the ways he can

He would take care of you so so much too

He would be like Oliver haha

Sing for you, make you food, do the tasks (look how gentleman he is)… also, he would def make the baby like him more.. im sorry

taglist! (open! send an ask if you’d like to be added) : @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0 @yawnzzznnn @ghostyycat7

Olegie has my heart 🤭

100% recommand this man!

Bold can’t be tagged.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Please can I request fluffy Steven Grant hc’s please?🖤

hii, omg ofc!! so some of these are really random and kinda specific, they’re just hcs that I personally think make sense (but if you don’t agree, that’s fine too) I feel quite similar to steven so it felt like i was just writing myself😭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

hc’s/ imagines

masterlist + rules

taglist

- he hates the heat

- summer bugs, he HATES them. moths and daddy long legs are the worst. he hates how erratic and frantic they are, how they just fly towards him (there’s tonnes of those bastards around here atm, and it’s horrible)

- sometimes he squeals if they get too close, and he'd look at you and mumble "sorry," maybe a little bit embarrassed after

- but you think its actually quite endearing and cute, so you reassure and comfort him

- even if you're scared of the bugs too, you catch them and set them free outside, and pretend you're not afraid so steven doesn't feel bad

- but he loves the rain, any kind- early morning, late afternoon, night rain, he loves it all !!

- he always cracks a window open so he can listen to the rain. he's a homebody, so he loves being in the comfort of his flat while listening to the rain. I don't think he likes being wet from it, so he definitely prefers it from a distance

- I think he's a night person, but an indoor night person. loves hanging around with you doing random 'mundane' activities at 12 am- reading, puzzles, baking, watching crappy tv, writing, researching etc

- I feel like he's a wednesday or sunday person (idk why or what that means lol)

- loves aubergine (eggplant) his fav is when it's roasted

- loves soups and curries

- herbal teas too

- prefers pears over apples

- his favourite cereal is shredded wheat, with grapes and some kind of sweet syrup (maybe malt or honey) but if he's running late, he eats a stale granola bar from his bag or coat

- he doesn't like apricot yoghurts

- he's a chocolate ice cream kinda dude

- we all know he likes egypt, but I feel like he loves space and astrology too

- info dumps a lot, but it's so sweet that you can't help but be fascinated

- he loves fridge magnets

-he collects the 2-for-1 coupons from the cereal boxes but never does anything about them. so he just has a stack of them by his toaster

- you’ve been saving and saving so you can take him to egypt and go on a tour etc, hopefully, you both can go soon

- you surprise him for every anniversary, birthday, special event/ occasion with something special and thoughtful, something that's tailored to steven

- he wants to adopt a cat with you but doesn't want gus to feel left out

- likes to listen to classical music

- enjoys watching mamma mia

- AMAZING listener !!!! maybe doesn't always have the best advice but would listen to you for as long as you need

- he makes you laugh constantly. he doesn't even need to try, he's just naturally funny and silly, very cute and goofy

@thewinterv @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho

[peachy-panic]

Lonely

Hi everyone, I'm alive! Have some Torley Era Jaime content.

This kind goes along with a (much happier) future piece I'm hoping to finish writing and post soon, so stay tuned for some better vibes. For now:

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, hunger, the sadness of stray cats (no animals were harmed in the making), brief suicidal ideations, gun mention, implied noncon

Restless. That is how Jaime thinks of the long weekdays in the Torley house, when the boys are at school and his Keeper is at work, and Jaime is left on his own until they return home to demand his attention. 

It is not that he is without work; Mr. Torley holds high expectations for his home, and Jaime strives to meet them all, even if it means double, triple, cleaning over a room he’s already scrubbed bare or taking all of the glassware out of the cabinets just to polish and arrange them again. But there are days when he finds himself with idle hands, in the time between completing his chores and his keeper’s return. That’s when anxiety creeps in. He knows it’s a conditioned thought, but it’s in him too deep to ignore. He can’t rest, can’t be useless, can’t be found being lazy when Mr. Torley comes home. 

It gets lonely, though, these pockets of restlessness. He is so fucking. lonely.

Sometimes he wishes that he had permission to go out on errands—collecting groceries, making returns, dropping off suits at the dry cleaner—just so that he can have a reason to talk to another person. He was trained to believe that many domestic contracts allow for that kind of thing, but Mr. Torley has made it clear that Jaime’s place is in the house. In the month that he has been here, he has never once been allowed to step foot outside, and he knows better than to ask. 

He is usually good at avoiding temptation, but on one Friday morning, Jaime is caught off guard.

He is cleaning the sliding glass doors at the back of the house when he catches a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Jaime flinches, startled, but when he looks into the backyard, he finds that the source of the motion was a fluffy, white cat, now tucked halfway behind a thick tree root, peeking up at Jaime with obvious apprehension. Through the thick glass, he can make out a muffled meow.

It must be the same cat Kade saw last night. Jaime hadn’t seen it himself, but he overheard the argument between him and his father from the next room. 

“Dad, we should keep her!”

“It probably already has a home, Kade.”

“No it doesn’t,” he shot back. “Look, she doesn’t have a collar.”

Ubidden, Jaime’s hand rose to the metal band at his own throat. Funny, he thought, how a collar is the mark of a safe home to some. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s our responsibility.”

“Daddy,” Jaime recognized the edge of frustrated tears slipping into Kade’s voice. “What if she’s hungry?”

“She’s fine.”

“Can I give her some water at least?”

“Kadence.” Even from the next room, Jaime couldn’t help but flinch at the impatient tone in his Keeper’s voice. “You will not give this cat anything, do you understand me? You feed it once and it will keep coming back. That’s the last thing I need to deal with.”

“But Dad—”

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

Without really thinking about it, Jaime stuffs the washrag into his back pocket and crouches down, putting himself closer to eye level. The cat perks his head up in response, fixing him with a steadier stare. 

“Hi,” Jaime mouths, lifting one hand to wiggle his fingers in a half-wave. The cat puts a hesitant paw forward, and Jaime smiles. “Hello, there.”

Another soft meow, and then it pulls its paw back. 

“Don’t go,” he whispers, struck by the sudden, urgent fear that it will dart away and leave him alone. All at once, it is Jaime’s greatest wish to keep this small animal in his sights, if only for a little while. If only to feel just a little less alone for a few minutes. It's desperate and sad, but it's true.

Jaime’s eyes flick up to the latch on the sliding door, just above his head. It would only be for a moment. Just a moment, just long enough to see if the cat will come closer. He won’t be breaking any rules—not really. 

When he looks back to the cat, he sees that it has moved several paces closer, and it’s all the push he needs. Slowly, Jaime reaches up and flips the lock open. The sound is enough to freeze the small animal in place, but it doesn’t retreat. Still, he slows his movements even further as he wraps his fingers around the handle and pulls it to the side. The burst of clean, fresh air on his face is the best thing he’s felt in months. 

The noise of the door startles the cat into motion again, but when Jaime stretches out his arm, his palm open, it bounds toward him instead of away. It slows its approach as it gets within a couple feet of him, stretching out its tiny, pink nose to sniff at his hand. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, keeping himself still and steady. When the tip of its nose makes contact with Jaime’s finger, the cat only jumps back for half a second before it twists its neck, pushing its tiny head into Jaime’s outstretched palm. 

A sound bubbles out of Jaime’s mouth, and it takes longer than it should to recognize it as his own laugh. Carefully, desperate not to scare it off, he scratches between the small animal’s ears and elicits a soft, vibrating pur. 

“Hi,” he says again through another burst of delighted laughter. “Hi, sweet girl.”

He’s not sure if he’s right about that guess, but it feels better than referring to it like an object. He decides to trust Kade’s intuition on this one. She meows up at him, and he chooses to take that as approval enough.

“Are you lost?” Jaime asks, noticing without conscious thought that his voice has risen to a pitch he only ever uses for Kade’s bedtime stories. “Do you have a home around here?”

He knows the answer before he asks it, though. The edges of her white fur are caked with mud and grime, and he can feel her spine a little too prominently through her skin. 

Jaime remembers well what that kind of hunger feels like. A dangerous thought begins to take shape. 

He glances at the clock in the hallway. He still has a couple of hours before he expects Mr. Torley home. That should be plenty to sneak something out. Even if it’s just some water. Jaime can clean it up and put everything away before his Keeper comes home. He never needs to know. 

He flinches as the thought lands. These are the kinds of things he’s not supposed to think about anymore. 

But Mr. Torley does plenty he isn’t supposed to do, doesn’t he?

He hesitates, just for a moment, before he stands, knees cracking. 

“Will you stay here for a minute?” he asks, scratching under her neck when she raises her head. “If I go to get you something to eat?”

She scuttles back a few steps at the sudden movement but doesn’t run away. He will have to hope for the best. 

In the kitchen, he goes straight for the plastic bowl in the cabinet that is designated for Jaime at mealtimes. He used to think about the fork scratches in the bottom when he first arrived at the house, wondering how many boys before him had eaten from the same bowl. He would never use any of Mr. Torley’s good dishes, but this serves him perfectly well as he fills it halfway with water from the tap. 

Food is another matter. Jaime has never had a cat before, but he knows the basics. Normally, he would expect to find a can of tuna or two stashed away in the back of someone’s pantry, but Mr. Torley isn’t the pantry staple kind of person. He likes his food fresh and expensive and expertly prepared, and—

Salmon. In the refrigerator, there is a small strip of leftover salmon filet from two nights ago. Mr. Torley never eats leftovers, and the boys hardly touched their fish to begin with. Jaime might have allowed himself to it before he would be expected to throw it away, but this is a far better use. No one will notice it's gone. No one will miss it.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jaime carries out the bowl of water and the strip of salmon on a paper towel, relieved to find the cat waiting for him in the same spot. 

“Here you go,” he says, setting the offering on the cold cement patio. Her hunger becomes more apparent as she dives headfirst for the small piece of fish, tearing away large bites at a time. Jaime feels a pang of guilt that he doesn’t have more to offer her. 

She purrs as she eats, poking her head up every few seconds to glance at Jaime—either to check that he is still there, or to make sure he’s not coming close enough to snatch away her food. He sinks into a crouch a couple feet away, happy to watch her filling her belly for the night. In the back of his mind, somewhere well into dangerous territory, he starts to think of ways he might be able to sneak her food in the future. Maybe, if he’s smart about it and he plans his meals right, he will be able to save back small portions of whatever meat they have for dinner. Even if Jaime needs to slim down his own portion, it’s not a big deal to save a little bit for her the next day. Maybe if he only keeps her fed during the daytime, Mr. Torley won’t ever see her when he’s home. 

He is pulled from his planning when the cat suddenly stops eating and goes rigid. There are still a few bites left on the napkin, but she has turned her attention toward the side gate, her little ears twitching at something unseen. 

It takes Jaime another second, and then he hears it, too: the low, almost silent electric hum of Mr. Torley’s car in the driveway. 

He’s home early. Hours early. 

Fear ices him over, but Jaime has no time to freeze. He has less than a minute before Mr. Torley will make his way around to the front door.

It breaks his heart to have to pull the last bits of salmon away before she can eat them, but he hurriedly bunches the napkin into a fist, trying to pick up the tiny shreds that have fallen on the patio with shaky fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to the cat, who has started meowing in objection. “I’m so sorry. You need to go now. You should go.”

He curses under his breath as he spills a bit of the water bowl, but that’s easily explainable enough, he supposes, if he’s asked about it, he just—

He has one foot through the patio doorway when the sound of the gate latch stops him cold. Mr. Torley never comes through the back gate. Why is he coming through the back gate?

“Stop,” Mr. Torley says simply, low and cold. Not a shout, but a single, flat syllable that raises the hair on the back of his neck. Jaime nearly drops the bowl of water with the lurch of dread that curls in his stomach. In his periphery, he sees a ball of white fur retreat across the yard and disappear. 

He knows that, no matter what happens now, the last thing he should do is keep his Keeper waiting, so Jaime pulls in a shuddering breath and turns to face him. 

“Put it down,” Mr. Torley says, “And come here.”

Of all the things he could have said, that unexpected directive inspires a spike of fear. Regardless, Jaime places the water bowl and the wadded napkin on the ground at his feet and makes his gallows march across the yard. 

He stops a couple of feet away, keeping his eyes trained on Mr. Torley’s expensive shoes. Helpless words race through his mind, scrambling to arrange themselves into a coherent explanation, an apology, anything that might soften the blow of his inevitable punishment. 

But his Keeper doesn’t ask for an explanation or an apology. He simply raises a hand to the gate latch—making Jaime flinch—and pulls it open once more. 

“Get in the car,” he says. 

Jaime’s eyes rise to meet his, confusion and alarm ringing through his skull. “Sir?”

Mr. Torley doesn’t move toward him, doesn’t raise his voice. He simply repeats, a beat slower this time, “Get. In. The car.”

On trembling, boneless legs, Jaime walks through the gate. He hasn’t been this far outside in nearly a month, but the terror and the strangeness of the moment takes away any joy he might have derived from the fresh air and sunlight. 

Mr. Torley’s car sits in the driveway, sleek black and still humming quietly. Jaime has never ridden inside, and he hesitates a moment before reaching for the back door handle. It’s locked, much like his throat when he tries to vocalize it. Instead, he stands silent and unwillingly disobedient with his fingers clutching the handle, waiting. Mr. Torley takes his time latching the gate and walking to the driver’s side. He gets in, closes the door, and fastens his seatbelt, all before Jaime hears the quiet click of his lock being undone. He scrambles into the backseat and barely closes the door behind him when the car lurches into motion. 

Jaime flattens himself against the leather seat back as they glide faster than what he’s sure is legal down the road. He doesn’t fasten his own seatbelt, too afraid in this heightened unknown to make a single move without explicit permission. His fists curl into the soft material of his pants, and he only realizes then that his feet are still bare. 

Where are they going? Where is he taking him? Why isn’t Mr. Torley saying anything? The quiet feels like a threat of its own, but Jaime doesn’t dare be the one to break it. Should he? Would an apology gain him any ground? What is expected of him here: his silence or his contrition?

The lump in his throat makes the decision for him, blocking any hope of words along with the ability to draw a full breath. 

That is, until, the car jets past a familiar sign on the highway, and cold acid releases into his bloodstream.

“Sir?” The words come out less than a whisper, and are met with more stony silence. Jaime grasps for another pull of oxygen and sits up further in his seat. “Mr. Torley?”

Nothing. 

Jaime’s heartbeat pounds in his fingertips, his temples, his throat, his chest. It could be a coincidence. Wherever they are heading could just be in the same direction. The sign doesn’t have to mean anything. 

And then they pass another sign, in bold, harsh, undeniable lettering: EXIT -  WRU PITTSBURG. The car glides smoothly onto the ramp, and the dam holding back Jaime’s panic bursts wide open. 

“Please,” Jaime whispers in horror as the first corner of the concrete hell comes into view. “Mr. Torley, please. Please.”

Nothing. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jaime babbles, tears blurring the massive wall of false windows that seems to stretch a mile long. He is suddenly struck by the irrational fear that Handler Smith can see him already, that he already knows Jaime is here, is being returned, is being surrendered for early termination. 

“Let me catch you back here early from a contract, even once,” Handler Smith had whispered to him a week before he was assigned. “Let me find out you’ve embarrassed me by forgetting your manners, and I promise you, you’ll wish you would have slit your wrists before ever showing up in my training room again.”

Wildly, he pictures the razor sitting out on Mr. Torley’s bathroom counter and thinks, He was right. I should have.

“Please don’t do this,” Jaime cries, tears falling openly now. In a desperate corner of his mind, he wonders if it will help. Jaime so rarely grants him the opportunity to see his tears, and he knows just how much he enjoys them. In any case, he can’t stop them now. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, please, I won’t do it again.”

The car slams to an abrupt stop, hard enough for Jaime to jerk forward, jamming his wrist as he catches himself from slamming his face into the seat in front of him. They are stopped short of the entry booth for incoming cars, veered to the side of the road. Mr. Torley spins around to face him, making Jaime shrink back. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks, eyes hard and resolute.

“F-for—”

“For getting caught?”

Jaime presses his lips together to stop them from quivering. Mr. Torley reaches into his pocket—and Jaime has the wild, hysterical vision of him pulling out a gun and dumping his body on WRU grounds. But he only pulls out his phone, flipping the screen around to show Jaime a camera feed of the back door at the house. 

“I have an alert set,” Mr. Torley says, “To monitor all exits of the house. Imagine my surprise when I was on my way home for an early weekend, and received a notification of my backdoor opening, unauthorized.” 

“I wasn’t trying to get out,” Jaime rushes to assure him, shaking his head. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to run.”

“No?”

“No. I promise.”

“What, then?”

How much will his honesty buy him now? Is it worth anything when Mr. Torley has clearly already seen, already knows? It’s better, at least, than a lie, and it’s all he has at his disposal.

“The cat,” he whispers pathetically. “She seemed… hungry. I fed her the leftovers that would have been thrown out. I gave her water. I’m sorry.”

“And you did so thinking you wouldn’t be caught?”

The affirmation feels like slipping a noose over his head. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’ll have you say it.”

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“And you did so after hearing me explicitly forbid it to my own children?”

He swallows. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Torley inclines his head toward the building ahead of them. “What do you think the people behind those doors would have to say about such abject deceit and disobedience from someone they sent out on a paid contract?”

Jaime pinches his eyes shut, shaking his head. 

“Answer me.”

“I…” Jaime begins, his voice pinching. “I would be disciplined.”

“What kind of discipline do you think this warrants?”

Behind his eyelids, he sees the lash of a thick leather cord, a shock clip locked to his throat, a tub of ice cold water. 

“I don’t know,” Jaime whispers. 

“You don’t know,” he echoes.

Jaime shakes his head, and he can feel Mr. Torley’s stare burning through him. 

Then, as abruptly as they had arrived, Mr. Torley faces forward in his seat and turns the gear shift. Jaime opens his eyes as the car rolls into motion once more, making a U-turn away from the facility. 

“Well,” Mr. Torley says once they’re back on the highway. “You’ve got thirty minutes to think of a better answer.”

Jaime spends the rest of the night, and the rest of the long weekend that follows, atoning.

On Monday morning, he sees the cat again. When she catches a glimpse of Jaime cleaning in the next room over, hunched on his hands and knees, she raises one tiny paw and scratches against the glass. He forces himself to look away. And when her hungry meows come muffled through the glass panel, he scrubs harder, bending his head closer to the floor so that the scritch scritch scritch of bristles on the hardwood almost manages to drown out the noise. 

After that, she gives up on coming back at all. 

***

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings@melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply  @cyborg0109  @whumplr-reader  @pinkraindropsfell  @whatwhumpcomments @honeycollectswhump @pirefyrelight @handsinmotion

[rottenpumpkin13]

Ello!!! Hope it’s been a lovely day, my friendo! 💕 I can say mine has been made 10x better after reading your “Sephiroth turns invisible” prank 😂❤️ Another golden post by the Pumpkin master! (´∩｡^ᵕ^｡∩`) ♡ Anywho, in light of how much I adored that post, I’ve been inspired to pose a similar ask!! *deep breath* Here goes:

For another prank, as the last one didn’t work out so well (or it can be disconnected all together), Zack decides to pretend that Sephiroth is very much visible, very much there, except everyone pretends that they don’t know who he is. Angeal pretends like he’s meeting Seph for the first time, as do Genesis and Zack; even Cloud wants to join in on the fun/pretends he doesn’t recognize his hero. What they think is a harmless joke to give Seph a break from his fame turns into something rather distressing for the poor man, until he ultimately just breaks down under the crushing illusion that he lost his treasured friends forever. Only then do the gang break the act <33

Really craving some Pumpkin-flavored angst/fuff!! There ain’t anyone who can deliver it quite like you can!!!

Ughhh I owe you Cloud content ˙◠˙ I forgot to include him in this one fhfhfhfh forgive me Pichu 😭💛🖤 But at the same time you owe me tissues for both the brilliant one-shot you write with the prompt I asked you about and the emotional damage this insanely good prompt caused me (seriously, I had to hold back tears because I was in public and didn't want to seem like a lunatic asdfghjk). Enjoy the angst!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Jokes were supposed to be funny, that much he knew. Sephiroth recalled a time when he was utterly floored by Glenn’s claim of “getting his nose” after pinching his lightly between two fingers. After he had been confused, the older SOLDIER explained that it was a joke—although Sephiroth was not amused by the concept of stealing one’s nose.

Another instance, during the initial stages of their friendship, involved Angeal's determined endeavor to coax more smiles out of Sephiroth. This pursuit took the form of a barrage of jokes, some of which sailed right over Sephiroth's head at first. "What do you call a fake noodle?" Angeal asked him one day, the inquiry that left the younger SOLDIER utterly flummoxed.

"I'm not certain there's a designated term for—"

"An im-pasta," Angeal interjected, flashing a wide grin.

Angeal then found himself investing the next two minutes in a patient explanation of the joke to Sephiroth, who had mistakenly interpreted the term "im-pasta" as the actual designation for fake noodles. Though he did understand one thing straight away: jokes weren’t meant to hurt you.

It all began one morning when Sephiroth went looking for them. Angeal was nowhere to be seen around the training room or his office, a fact that piqued Sephiroth's curiosity since he knew Angeal didn't have any missions scheduled for that morning. Likewise, Genesis was conspicuously absent from the public archives, his office, and even the break room, his usual spots. Just as Sephiroth was contemplating checking for Genesis at his apartment, he finally caught sight of the duo.

They were near the data room, engaged in lively conversation and laughs.. It was a scene that never failed to warm Sephiroth's heart, for his friendships were the only true source of joy in his otherwise mundane days. He approached eagerly, ready to share the news of beating his personal record in the training simulator.

But then the laughter stopped, and the air immediately soured with a hint of awkwardness as they both looked at him, confused, before turning back to each.. “Do we know you?” Genesis asked, followed by Angeal’s “I don’t think we do.”

Sephiroth paused, confused. “What do you mean?”

His friends provided no answers as they merely looked at each other, laughed, and walked away.

Sephiroth stood there, alone and confused, as a thread of understanding began to weave its way into his mind. He realized why Genesis and Angeal had seemingly disregarded him: he must have done something to upset them.

The remainder of the day was spent pondering over the possible words or actions that could have soured their view toward him. Had he been too harsh on Angeal while correcting his footwork? Perhaps he had been too exhausted from his latest mission to give Genesis the attention he deserved when discussing the new Loveless play he had been invited to critique.

Eventually, after a day filled with distraction and a multitude of potential scenarios swirling in his mind, Sephiroth decided to confront the issue head-on. He found them in the mess hall that evening, seated at their usual table, the aroma of food wafting through the air stirring his neglected appetite and reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

Approaching them, Sephiroth didn't even attempt to take a seat, uncertain if his presence would be welcomed. "What have I done to upset you?"

The response felt like a punch to the gut. They exchanged a glance before fixing their gazes back on Sephiroth. "Sorry," Genesis shrugged, his expression showing a hint of a smile. "We don’t know you."

Sephiroth walked away, his heart heavy. Not only had he upset them, but he had seemingly committed an unforgivable act, risking the loss of his closest friends. He couldn't bear the thought of losing them; his friendships were the very essence that kept him going each morning, the reason that infused life into every waking moment. What had he done to squander it?

That night, sleep eluded him, and the gnawing hunger in his stomach went unnoticed as he lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, replaying every single interaction he'd had with them over the past week. As the clock struck 5 AM, he hurried down to the mess hall once more, determined to seek answers.

Spotting Zack heading in for breakfast, Sephiroth swiftly intercepted him, pulling the younger SOLDIER aside with urgency. "Has Angeal mentioned anything to you about what I've done to upset him and Genesis?" he inquired, his tone clearly displaying the desperation he felt.

Zack's eyes widened, and for a brief moment, Sephiroth thought he detected a hint of amusement.. "I'm sorry," Zack replied, "Who are you again?"

Sephiroth refrained from attempting to approach them again that day, whether it was Angeal, Genesis, or Zack. He had committed some unfathomable wrongdoing, and the guilt gnawed at him like teeth biting down deeper and deeper into his skin. It was exacerbated by his inability to recall what he had done. He had squandered the one good thing in his life.

Then, at once, the reason for why they were upset with him came to mind. And it made so much sense. He hastily gathered his thoughts and made his way towards Angeal's office that evening, the usual meeting place for the four of them at the end of the day.

He didn't bother with the formality of knocking—after all, could he possibly worsen their anger towards him? Sephiroth pushed open the door, coming face-to-face with the startled expressions that greeted him. Genesis dropped the book he had been reading into his lap, his mouth agape.

Zack, who had been perched on Angeal's desk, leaped to his feet, his expression a mixture of concern and alarm. Angeal nearly choked on the water he had been drinking. "Seph, have you been crying!?"

"I understand why you're upset with me," Sephiroth began, his voice trembling. "It's because I declined the offer to go see a movie with you all last weekend, isn't it?" His words caught in his throat as tears threatened to overwhelm him. "I'm sorry," he choked out, gasping for air. "I didn't mean to show disinterest in spending time with you, but I was completely depleted after enduring an exhaustive examination session with Professor Hojo throughout the day."

Pausing briefly to compose himself, Sephiroth was oblivious to the tears streaming down his face as he continued, his voice cracking. "I couldn't focus on anything, and I was feeling utterly drained, but I should have made the effort to be there with you all. I understand how you might feel that I didn't care for our friendship," He sniffed, "but I assure you, I do. I understand if you never wish to speak to me again—”

Angeal enveloped him in a hug before Sephiroth could utter another word, the warmth of the embrace causing him to surrender to his emotions completely. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in Angeal's neck, his sobs muffled but very much audible to the other two people in the room, who looked at each other, stunned.

"Sephiroth, it was just a joke," Angeal exclaimed, his tone tinged with exasperation. "We thought you knew."

"We never imagined it would upset you like this," Genesis interjected, joining the embrace from behind and wrapping his arms around Sephiroth. "Sure, we expected you to be a bit annoyed, but we never anticipated this level reaction!"

Feeling Zack's hand rest gently on his shoulder, Sephiroth looked up, meeting his friend's gaze. "We're not angry with you,” Zack’s voice shook, his eyes wide. “We never were, and I don't think I could ever be!" Zack gripped his shoulder tighter. "We–we had no idea this joke was hurting you. If we had known, we never would have gone through with it!"

“Never,” Angeal added.

“But,” Sephiroth sniffed, blinking the tears from his eyes, “You Weren't speaking to me, so I thought—”

"Seph, look at me," Genesis gently turned Sephiroth to face him, tenderly wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks, his own eyes glistening with tears of his own. "We were just playing a prank on you, we thought it would be a harmless joke, something we'd all laugh about. We were never angry with you, and I'm truly sorry for how much this has distressed you."

Sephiroth glanced away, his voice small. "You're not angry?"

"No, Sephiroth, no!" Zack's voice cut in, his own tears mirroring Sephiroth's. "I'm so sorry," he sniffled, enveloping them all in a tight embrace.

"Me too," Angeal added, his arms pulling Zack into the hug. "We promise we won't ever pull a prank like this again. We should have realized it could hurt you."

"Can you forgive us?" Genesis asked.

Sephiroth felt himself deflate, his tension dissipating as he melted into the embrace. "But I'm not angry," he murmured. "I just wanted to understand."

Lazard was on his way to deliver some papers to Angeal when he paused outside his office door, his attention drawn by a commotion sounding from the other side. Concerned, he hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open.

What was on the other side made him do a double-take. Sephiroth sat on the floor, flanked by Zack, Angeal, and Genesis, all four of them huddled together on the ground, sobbing as they clung to one another. Lazard was almost tempted to ask if someone had died, almost.

“What a strange bunch,” Lazard muttered, shaking his head and closing the door.

[imfinereallyy]

But You'll Have This Place to Call Home, Always

available on ao3

June 2008

Peering through the window of Starlight café, Steve Harrington watched the lively streets of Hawkins' City unfold before him. Early morning commuters had begun to pitter out onto the pavement, their eyes tired, heavy even, but each of them walked with purpose. None of them noticed as Steve’s eyes followed them, familiar faces he couldn’t name, but he knew their routine. It was an easy rhythm to fall in a city like theirs.

Smaller than Chicago but bigger than the small suburban streets scattered across the Midwest, Hawkins City was its own little world tucked between the pages of the known and unknown. A name, though recognizable, was not something a person would put much thought to. Steve Harrington thought of himself like his city some days, a friendly face amongst the cranky customers—someone you say hello to but not someone you’d ask how they are doing. 

Steve flipped the closed sign to open; he could hear Robin puttering around in the back. She was probably looking around for her brand of Earl Grey—it wasn’t the tea they used for customers; it was from a gas station off the highway. The brand was cheap and downright awful, but he knew it reminded her of the time Steve drove them across the country to escape their parents. 

It was a small comfort on stressful mornings. Robin had been having a lot of those lately, Steve had noticed. 

“In the cabinet below the register,” Steve spoke over his shoulder, careful not to shout this early. 

“ Huh , I had more than I thought,” Robin mumbled as she thumbed through the box. 

She didn’t. Steve had gotten up early this morning to go to the gas station an hour out. He bought all six boxes they had left, the rest under his bed at home. 

When Steve walked over to the counter, a hot cup of green tea sat there for him. He looked to see Robin heating water for herself and took a sip out of his mug.

Tangy and lightly sweet.  

“Perfect,” Steve mumbled to Robin; she gave him a soft smile in return. 

This had never been the dream for them, stuffed into a small corner on a busy street, but it felt good. They had fallen into a routine, something Steve thought the two of them would never have. Years of trying to appease everyone, stretching himself thin, only to fall short, had taken their toll during his teen years. Trouble used to follow Steve wherever he went, and he had begun to think he was the trouble himself. 

Now, though, in a city very far away from a life they once knew, Steve was content in the safety of knowing what came next. 

The chime above the door rang as a grumpy Hopper entered the café. Steve’s hands were already working to make his order: a large coffee with four creams, two sugars, and whipped cream on top. Of course, it was in a to-go cup, despite Hopper always staying at least an hour in the shop after ordering. Steve knew it was because Hop didn’t like anyone to know about his secret sweet tooth. 

Steve had found it funny in the past few years how often someone’s order never really matched them at first glance. He had gotten pretty good at guessing the more he worked, and it was rare for anyone to surprise him. 

Hop’s order never changed; Joyce always ordered whatever new double-shot espresso drink we had. Max had a cold brew on her days off and a banana smoothie during her shifts. Dustin always demanded a frappuccino even though they didn’t make them. Robin drank tea first in the morning and an espresso shot at noon. And Steve himself was simple.

Always tea, never coffee.

A fact, to those who knew, that was constantly baffling. 

“Here you go, Jim.” Steve smiled as the older man grimaced.

“I know that most people usually insist on using their first name, kid. But how many times do I have to tell you it’s Hop?” 

Steve’s smile widened as Hop put a five-dollar bill in the tip jar like he did every morning. “You drink your coffee without a lid, and I’ll start calling you Hop.” 

Hopper didn’t argue but frowned into this cup as he walked over to the red couch against the wall. 

Steve chuckled and turned to watch the sunrise over the city skyline. The café was on the city's outer edge, and although it didn’t get as much traffic as it would if they were at its epicenter, Steve wouldn’t trade it. 

The sunrise made it worth getting up this early every morning. It made the inevitable ordinary day ahead special, even if it looked the same as the day before.

Steve pulled down the sleeves of his yellow sweater and adjusted the little “ Steeb :) ” nametag Robin made for him as he returned to the register.

Another chime sounded throughout the café; it was time to get to work. 

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

At noon, Steve handed Robin her espresso shot, expecting nothing more than the usual grunt of appreciation to sound throughout the busy café. 

Instead, Robin let the cup slip through her fingers as the sound of a motorcycle rumbled outside the café's doors. 

“Shit.” Robin screeched as the hot coffee spilled over Steve’s fingers. 

He hissed in pain; he knew his skin would pay the consequences of the simple distraction. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve; I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at her; despite the many cars that passed through the streets, no one drove a motorcycle around here, and those who had only ever passed through. The deep sounds of the engine parked in front of their shop were all kinds of new, and they probably brought a bad memory or two for Robin. 

“It’s okay, Bobbi, you couldn’t have known.” Steve looked up at the ceiling as he tried not to let his eyes fill with tears; it was just another scar to add to the list. No one would probably even notice it amongst the others. 

Distantly, he heard the sound of the door chime go off, but he paid no mind as he watched Robin run off to grab a clean towel from the kitchen to wrap ice in. 

A throat cleared from behind Steve, and a small rush of panic surged through him. They were in the café, with customers around ; now wasn’t the time to panic. 

Preparing a bright smile, Steve turned to the awaiting customer. “Hi, how can I help you?” 

Steve clutched his burning hand as he took in the man before him. Dark chestnut curls framed an unhappy face. The man was undeniably gorgeous, the kind of guy Steve once upon a time would go for, a guy that Steve now stayed far away from. The man’s eyes were set in a glare that felt wrong to Steve. Someone with big eyes like his should have delight in them, should be lively and maybe even kind. Instead, all Steve got was a burning heat behind his stare, one that Steve felt that if the man could use to set Steve on fire, he would. 

Steve’s smile slipped a bit as he took in the man’s slight frown; the stranger’s five o’clock shadow moved with the contortion of his lips. He caught himself and returned his customer service smile on his face.

 “Sir?” Steve clenched his hand before him; the man’s eyes followed the movement, and his frown deepened. 

“You hurt often, sweetheart?” The man finally spoke, his voice rough and low against Steve’s ears. 

Steve wondered what it would be like to hear it close to his ears. The words would have stirred something in his gut if it were for the man's tone. Condescending. Bored. Done with Steve's shit before even knowing him. 

Steve’s smile slipped completely; he didn’t bother to try to fake it. He felt a spark of anger he hadn’t felt in a long time, since the last time he spoke to his own parents, to be precise. 

With his eyebrows tugging and nose scrunched, Steve prepared to give the stranger a piece of his mind until Robin came running back over. 

“Oh my god, sorry that took so long. Jon was using most of the towels to clean down the kitchen, despite me having told him too many times we have set towels for that! And so I had to run into the bathroom under the sink—the employee bathroom, don’t worry, Steve–and then I had to make sure I didn’t trip and fall on my way back because we can’t have two injured employees on our hands! And then–”

“ Robin , rant.” 

Robin cut herself off and thrust the towel, now filled with ice, into his hands. “Sorry, I just was so startled because of the— oh, hello. Do you need some help?” Robin said, only noticing now that Steve had been helping the sorry excuse of a customer. 

The man’s lips curved into a slight smirk, and Steve cursed his only little heart for skipping a beat. Way to be a cliche, he whispered to it. 

“I was just waiting for,” the man said, glancing down at Steve’s nametag and raising an eyebrow. Steeb , to take my order, but it appears you’re both busy, so I can wait.”

Steve felt all his blood rush to his cheeks; he was sure his cheeks were the color of Max’s hair. Usually, Steve didn’t mind the nametag, but now he was silently cursing Robin six ways to Sunday. Steve glanced down at the menace herself, and she at least had the audacity to flinch slightly at the situation. Steve hadn’t even told her this guy was rubbing him the wrong way, but she already knew. 

It was sometimes creepy how well she could read him. 

“It’s Steve. And don’t worry about it.” Steve forced a smile on his face as he repeated a mantra in his head. Keep people happy. Smile. Don’t worry about what others think. In that order.  “What can I get you, sir?” 

Steve rolled his shoulders back; he could hear the cracking echo throughout his body. He had such stiff bones for someone who was only brushing twenty-seven. When she caught him sitting on the stool behind the counter instead of his usual standing, Joyce had told him once that it was because his aches told a story. Steve liked to think of his body that way. It was easier to believe all the pain was a part of a story rather than a meaningless torment. 

The man watched Steve’s face closely, most likely taking pleasure in the discomfort on Steve’s face, before speaking. “ Eddie . You can call me Eddie, sweetheart.”

“What can I get you, sir?” Steve repeated, ignoring him. 

Eddie’s smile bloomed in full across his face. Dimples appeared on his cheeks, and the lines beside his lips proved that he probably smiled often. 

He should , Steve thought; he had a pretty smile.  

Steve made a note to remind himself to think fewer thoughts like that in the future. There was no use in making the note anyway, considering he was more than sure a man like Eddie didn’t stick around places like Hawkins. He should save himself the trouble of wasting his time on thoughts about men like Eddie. 

Still, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what the man would order. He surely wouldn’t surprise Steve. He was sure most people had Eddie pinned as a black coffee type of guy; it was easy to assume so at first glance. But Steve knew better to judge by the surface of it all. Sure, the guy wore a leather jacket and had a nose ring, but it didn’t mean anything. No, Steve was almost positive the man was about to order something ridiculously sweet, with something insane in it, like whole milk.  

“Medium black coffee with two sugars.” Eddie voiced.

Steve froze for a moment. He hadn’t gotten an order wrong in over a year. But here he was, making an ass out of himself with his jaw slightly open as he stared at the man before him. Eddie ordered a black coffee . He was so thoroughly surprised by how unsurprising it all was. 

Eddie’s head tilted at Steve, which made him realize how silent he had been. Even Robin had begun to nudge his side. “ Seriously , just a black coffee?”

Eddie’s smile once again slipped into a devious smirk. “Don’t forget the two sugars. I like it just a little sweet. Sometimes you need something to soothe the bite….of the coffee, of course.” 

Robin moved her head back and forth between them, biting her lip from saying something Steve was sure would only make the situation worse. 

Steve put on his best customer service smile. “I’ll get right on that, sir; Robin here will ring you up. Thank you for stopping by Stardust café on your way through our city.”

“Oh, it’s been a pleasure. And I’m not passing through; I’m gonna be here awhile.” 

Steve dropped his smile and didn’t even bother responding as he walked away to make Eddie’s boring coffee. He could hear Robing ringing him up in the background, the chatter resuming within the café. 

Steve felt sick in his stomach. He hadn’t even realized everyone had stopped talking, which meant everyone had seen the interaction. 

Great. Fucking fantastic. Steve Harrington was once again nothing but a car wreck everyone couldn't help but stop and stare at. 

Steve heard the slight pitter-patter of feet behind him. “Not now, Robin.” He clipped as he began to pour the sugar into the cup. He scrambled to find the lid.

“You know that was pretty weird, dingus. And I have a high threshold for weird. Considering we’ve been friends for almost a decade now.”

Steve searched for a Sharpie to write the name on the cup, although he mostly did it to be petty since no one else had ordered in the past ten minutes. “ Don’t , Robin. I don’t need to hear it right now, and jesus christ, where is the damn marker!” Steve ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

Robin leaned forward and plucked something from Steve’s apron pocket. She held it out in front of him; it was the damn marker.

Steve sighed and snatched it from her hands. Ripping the cap off with his teeth, Steve grumbled. “I don’t have time to deal with men like him, Bobbi. He screams trouble. He had already stirred up enough with his damn bike. Plus, just look at him. He just screams trouble, Robs.” 

“Steve–”

“No, I know what you’re going to say. ‘ We don’t judge people like that, Stevie ,’ but you know what, Robin? Yes, we do. We gossip more than the church ladies back in Rose Hills. Especially when trouble like that comes our way–”

“But Steve–”

Steve placed the coffee on the counter, and as he saw Eddie approach, he whipped his head back toward Robin. “Don’t Steve me, Robin. You’re telling me that a guy like him doesn’t scream–”

“For the love of god, Steve!” Robin grabbed Steve’s shoulders just as Eddie scooped up the coffee. 

“What, Robin?” Steve blew out, exasperated. 

“Did you even see the name you wrote on the cup?” Her eyes widened in terror and, strangely, amusement. 

Steve glanced at Eddie, who was now reading his cup in amusement. As he saw Steve’s curious glance, he turned the coffee around, putting Steve’s handwriting into view. 

Steve almost died on the spot. Right there, in Steve’s loopy handwriting, was the word ‘ trouble .’ 

Eddie laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Guess I’ll make sure to bring trouble back around.” 

Steve knew at that moment he had stirred up more than sugar in Eddie’s cup.

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

Read the rest of Steve and Eddie's story on ao3

A peek at my first contribution to @strangerthingsreversebigbang and contains lovely art made by my friend @sunflowerharrington

[fairytail-whathesays]

Please can you make some headcanons for Laxus / Jura ? Romantic / platonic / nsfw / sfw, your choices !

Woke up this morning thinking about this, so here it is!

Laxus actually pursued Jura. And when I say that, I mean he walked up to the guy's doorstep with flowers and everything.

My personal version of this is that it happened less because Laxus had been harboring any affection for Jura specifically than because he'd been recently cheated on, and decided to rebound with the safest possible option, a literal monk.

Shockingly, not only did Jura say yes, they actually get a pretty decent relationship going, although it's not without its hurdles.

Jura has a surprisingly romantic side, so things go over well when Laxus compels himself to swallow his pride and do things he typically deems sappy or gesturous.

Jura grew up in a temple. He is extremely professional and polite and well-mannered even if he can beat the brakes off a fool. So a romantic relationship is something he has to put work towards, too.

He tries to "study" romance by finding the best examples of it in places he grew up. There's some surprisingly good love stories around temples--every old geezer with a cane and a fu manchu beard has at least two scrolls or codexes containing what scholars will often say is the literal peak of recorded romance.

Does it often land perfectly when trying to replicate it with Laxus? No, but Laxus thinks it's both adorable and funny as shit, so he responds well all the same.

There are a lot of points where they think the relationship won't work out. Laxus is worldly and blunt and practical and horny, while Jura is sentimental, spiritual, polite, and refined. It's less a case of opposites attract than that their liking for each other develops faster than any clashes they have can bring them down.

They usually kiss each other more in greeting than in actual romance. But every once in a while, Jura will stop Laxus in place and hold him for a minute just to kiss him.

That flowers thing Laxus did got returned tenfold and now Laxus has to deal with his boyfriend who knows where to get super-rare and fragrant flowers bringing them to him so he can have nice plants around the house oh my fucking god just kill him now

Jura has had relationships before but he has never, once, been able to get over the shock of anyone calling him their boyfriend btw. He's also never had a relationship with a man before, although he's very amenable to it.

Jura also has a thing with self-consciousness in a way other men his age don't; he's only older than Laxus by a few years, but Laxus' wild style and youthful aggression make him feel like he's been selected as an "older" lover. You wouldn't catch Gildarts hesitating if a younger man wanted to play dirty with him, but Jura always worries he's going to get left for someone younger and hotter.

NS/FW section:

Some general headcanons before we get into the good stuff:

Jura, save for his beard, is completely smooth everywhere. It's a genetic thing, and even the beard was something he had to take supplements for.

His d/ck is very big, and also very smooth. No veins anywhere, just big big girth. Same with his balls.

Laxus gives him a lot of blΩwjobs. He's very fond of making Jura stand up or lay on his back while he either kneels or curls next to his waist and just sucks him off at his leisure.

Laxus likes to fuck, Jura likes to make love. It causes some clashes, and it's not always obvious for Laxus how to get Jura off. For example, Jura doesn't like being joined in the shower or shower stuff in general. He does love being joined in a tub full of hot water and suds, though, and it's one of his favorite places to get down whether he's on the top or the bottom. Add rose petals and candles and you've got a man who will move heaven and earth for you.

Jura gets very much into the same body/muscle worship Laxus is fond of seeking with other lovers, but not in the same way. Other men would be trying to touch out of lust, but for Jura it's just as much curiosity. Like I said, he's never been with a man before Laxus. So he spends a lot of time trying to learn Laxus, learn his body, learn where he likes to be touched, their first few times.

Imagine, if you will, the opposite of PT/SD. Like, an event that is burned into your brain so thoroughly that you freeze in the middle of the day at random thinking about it, wake up in the middle of the night with it on your brain, and are sometimes h a u n t e d by it. Except that instead of terrible trauma it's the height of happiness, or in this case, debauched bliss.

Recorded below are three examples of such times that Jura, an esteemed Wizard Saint and monastery monk, must now live with.

Jura's modesty is so ever-present it can be hard to really get him the way Laxus wants him sometimes. The exception is after a fight, which they usually do just for fun, but which almost always ends with the both of them beat to hell and back, bruised, and on the ground out of breath. Laxus usually has a slight bit more stamina left in him and takes advantage, getting their clothes off and pulling Jura to him. One time, Jura was treated to Laxus straddling him and fucking himself on his cock while he recovered from the battle. Another time, Laxus rolled him on his side, lifted his leg over his shoulder, and started spearing him in the ass. Both times Jura's eyes were rolling back in his head and he had no idea what his own name was.

He and Laxus had a rather strenuous period after a big fight that ended with them barely speaking for two weeks and certainly not touching each other. They had a scheduled visit to a sacred temple for a vacation it was too late to really back out on, and both of them considered dropping out or going on different trains. The day proceeded as normal, they were shown around, and they were dismissed from the grounds right at sunset as the temple was closing... Then Laxus found Jura sneaking back in. Laxus ended up fucking Jura on every freakin' surface in that place over the course of the night, and Jura had about five or six of the most intense orga$ms he's ever had in about as many hours. When they were finally done, cleaned up, and left, they had an understanding that everything was forgiven.

One thing about Jura is that he's secretive about his k/nks, given his modesty, but that those k/nks will turn him into a completely different man if they're tapped. It took forever, given how Laxus expected exclusivity from him, for him to figure out that far and away Jura's biggest turn-on is watching. Yep, nothing gets his freak on more than watching Laxus with another man or woman. And even then it took some convincing. But that's how they ended up in Jura's home naked, featuring Orga Nanagear present and bent double, getting his back blown out hardcore by Laxus and Jura beating himself (both in the masturbatory sense and in self-flagellation that would better suit a Catholic). Laxus absolutely refuses to engage in flat c/ckoldry , though, so after Jura got one off, he demanded his boyfriend join in. Which is how you got Jura with his face buried in Laxus' ass while the latter was pounding Orga's ass like it owed him money.

And now for something cute...?

I didn't have a better place to put this but. Yes, Jura would ask Laxus to marry him. Laxus would say no....the first time.