#i know it might be petty but this is my first job and i just wanted a pat on the back but instead no one even talked to me
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idiot-mushroom · 4 months ago
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guys i just finished my first shift at my first job, could you guys congratulate me.
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oblique-lane · 3 months ago
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Spy tf2 and his identity
Character analysis (or at least my vision on him, if you believe my reasoning)
What do we know about Spy? He's a disguise mastermind. He can pretend to be anyone in order to infiltrate into the scene to do his job - quite literally, stab people on the back. But when he's not in the battle, what is he to his teammates? A suave Frenchman, a gentleman with taste, somewhat a leader.
At least, that's the persona he prefers to show. But is he really..?
What if I tell you that this person never drops his disguise?
For a man who always wears a mask and who's identity being secret is a sacred part of his role in this job, isn't this persona too much to show if it is real? Frenchman, rich, ladykiller... Wouldn't it be too easy to decipher his identity with so much clues provided? Wouldn't it be dangerous?
While Miss Pauling and the Administrator definitely know Spy's real identity, hiding it is a major thing for whatever reason. One could assume it might be because of Scout (obvious guess) but I doubt he's a sole reason. Spy very much enjoys being the Spy all by himself. Do what's the deal?
Let's start from the beginning.
Why did Spy join Mann Co. in the first place?
Let's take this assumption as a fact: people come here out of desperation. They are professionals in their field, yet in their past/casual life there is a pattern of them having difficulties that push them into joining this service. I don't see why Spy would be an exception.
The reason for joining is usually money. Some people question why Spy, a wealthy man from higher society, would join Mann Co. if he has it all already.
Well, probably because he really does not.
Have you ever met an aristocrat? Wealthy people don't get so protective about their expensive suits, they can afford cleaning or a new one. Regardless, rich people don't usually get stingy about material goods, especially if they're mass produced.
At least, not those who were born into wealth.
Spy's defensiveness about his "wealthy stuff", his pomp-ness, disgust and arrogance towards "plebs" gives off a man who knows what it means to live in poverty and who doesn't want to be associated with it ever again.
(Not even talking about his own filthy habits such as not washing his mask and pissing on walls? Jesus Christ)
Dare I even guess that he might be not French at all? His French is so broken. (Although, so is Medic's German, but at least he uses his language much more frequently and in more complex sentences, while Spy only uses French to say some basic expressions, occasionally confusing them with other languages). Definitely not a native.
If anything, he's not giving "rich man" at all, he's giving con man. And that fits my picture perfectly.
So, poor upbringing. How old is Spy? If he's Scout's father (and he was young when he was conceived), I'd say he's no less than 20 years older than him. I'd give him a few more years actually. So, approximately Spy is around 50 at the events of the game (1968-1972). Let's assume he was born somewhere in the 1910s.
Even if he's not French, I still agree that he's probably European. Hmm, what was happening in Europe at the time Spy was a kid?
Oh yeah. The Great Depression.
See my picture: imagine, a child from a lower class family during the Great Depression, his parents were most likely to not take good care about him (both because of the economical situation AND as an echo to Spy's struggles with his own fatherhood). He has to run away from home early and start to make money. Any way possible.
Unavoidably, it leads to crime.
Petty theft, blackmail, scams. Changing identities. Selling low quality products and services. Changing identities again. When older, seducing rich women to stay at their homes overnight, be fed and supported. Running away from the police. Walking into a trap of the mafia, and then joining them as their goon.
In this nightmare of a life he just had to keep pretending to be someone else, someone better and stronger, in order to his ego to not completely shutter. He had to imagine he was an invincible mastermind trickster of some sort, not just a poor boo-hoo victim of poverty who has never knew normal life and care.
And if you pretend for long enough, you become your role eventually... Right?
His true self was long lost forgotten under many layers of new identities. Worse, his true self was never known. And he didn't want it to be known in its ugly and disgusting vulnerability. Narcissism became his lifeline.
It's so much better to be Spy. To be rich and elegant and respected. His ego rebuilt.
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777heavengirl · 1 month ago
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the one with the picture
sirius black x reader ! - 2,084 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: IM BACK IM BACK IM BACK also sorry its so late at night hectic day xoxo i hope you enjoy!! don't forget to drop a little reblog or even just comment guys!! it is so very appreciated and it lets me know y'all want more!
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“Ready to become uncles?” You asked, a yawn following your words. 
Remus smiled at you, soft and sleepy from the couch facing yours. His cane rested on the arm of the couch, abandoned for the comfort of the shitty hospital seat. Remus nodded wordlessly.
“I reckon I’ll be a terrible uncle,” Peter gruffed as he shook the box of candies into his mouth, emptying it “I have nothing to teach this bloody baby-”
“I don’t think anyone expects you to teach him anything Wormtail-” Sirius pipped up with a laugh from the corner where he paced in circles, head swiveling towards the room James and Lily were in as a nurse hurried out of it.
You ignored the bustling of nurses, you had long learned by now that unless you saw James, it probably didn’t mean anything.
“Why on Merlin’s green earth did they decide to give birth in a muggle hospital-” Peter groaned into his hands, the hours of waiting bearing down on him.
“Lily refused to do a home birth remember? St Mungo’s doesn't exactly do the whole birth thing- ” Remus muttered from the small beige sofa he had curled up in, long legs spilling from the edge of the cushions. You wondered if he was comfortable, but his eyes were closed and he had barely moved in the past two hours so you assumed on some level he probably was. Well, between his cardigan and long pants, he was at least doing better than you. You could feel your skin start erupting in goosebumps from the cold.
It had been a blur really, the furious knocking at your door at the hands of Peter, and haphazardly putting on the first thing you found after basically clawing off the stuffy funeral dress. You didn’t even have enough time to grab a jacket, barely putting on shoes as Remus and Peter swept you off to the muggle hospital. A shiver ran down your spine as you cursed the pajama shorts and stupid t-shirt you had thrown on. 
You could feel Sirius’s grey eyes on you, staring straight into the side of your head. But you refused to look, instead burying your face further into your hands. You didn’t notice he had moved until he was right next to you- 
“Take it-” Sirius handed you his suit’s jacket, basically shoving it into your arms so you couldn't say no. “You’re going to get sick,” You stared at it, fingers softly squeezing the soft material. He sat next to you. 
The small, beige couch you had chosen to sit on was much like the one you had when you were freshly moved in. It lived in your home for a measly two weeks before Euphemia decreed that no child of hers would have such a stiff abomination in her watch. It was hard and restricting. The two of you might as well have been sitting on a wooden bench. But neither of you dared to move, so you sat, silently, both wishing Euphemia could save you from the clutches of the rigid couch.
Sirius thought of the sofa. And when you first moved in. Together and bright-eyed, he had been so in love with you then. He reckons he still was. But now he knew there was no hope of you loving him back.
He cursed the couch silently.
“Put it on,” he sighed as he leaned back, his white button-up shifting as he threw his arm over the backrest. “Don’t be stubborn-”
You huffed as you put it on, “thanks…”
“Don’t mention it,” you leaned back too, the back of your neck close to his arm, almost touching but quite. “Did you bring my camera?” you nodded, but he didn't answer back. 
You couldn’t stand the distance between you, a thick jelly of silence that was anything but peaceful. You dreaded going home, you dreaded having to face that your best friend, the boy you so dearly loved was upset with you.
Especially over something so petty. What did he care that you had a job? Your own life? Something to do that wasn’t shared with him? It was rather selfish of him, wasn’t it? You could almost hear your father spew that sentence from the darkest pits of your mind. 
You stared at the small bag in Sirius’s hand. You didn’t know why you hadn’t taken notice of it before. He clutched the small velvet bag tightly. Did it have an extension charm? You wondered if it was his things then, had he carried that to the funeral? You thought you would’ve noticed. Had he been planning on staying at James’s? Had he cleared his things at some point without you noticing? 
You rubbed circles into the palm of your hand and chewed at your lip worryingly. 
If your father knew he’d call you stupid. Stupid for not looking for an apartment to move out, stupid for not being the first to leave, irresponsible, too trusting, so stupid.
You decided you maybe didn’t want to know if he was indeed planning to leave. 
“Hey-” he shifted uncomfortably “do you think we can talk about... you know, everything”
“Sirius I don’t know if it's the time-” You refused to even take a peek at him, even though you knew he was staring right at you now. 
“Well, Merlin knows how much longer we’re going to be here-” he was right, you had all been here for ages waiting for the baby to come “so yeah it might be the time,” 
You sighed, finally turning to look at him. His stupid shiny grey eyes, and his stupid porcelain skin. His stupid stupid frowning lip. He’d deny he was sporting one if you called him out on it. 
He had always been a pouty one.
You were mad. At least you wanted to be, but when you looked at him, in all his disheveled glory, the hair he had run his hand through a thousand times, the white button-up with the top buttons undone and that had been unconsciously untucked from his slacks. You just couldn’t be genuinely mad.
So you softened, finally moving to face him. Your knee knocked against his, his warmth transferring from his leg onto your skin.
“I’m sorry, for being so petty earlier- it was unfair and-” Sirius sighed, staring at your hand on your lap. His fingers twitched with the need to hold yours, to feel your no doubt freezing fingers between his warm ones.
He thought of your first week of living together again.
He grabbed your hand. You stared at the bag in his other hand again.
Like if you stared at it hard enough it would tell you its contents. But your thoughts drifted as your soft fingers were enveloped in his. Yet, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t dare. You squeezed his hand and he finally looked up, back from whatever thought he had briefly gotten lost in. 
“I’m really sorry about the past few weeks-”
“I’m sorry too,”
“I just wish you could trust me enough to let me take care of you- there’s no one else in the world I’d rather spend my days with…” You swallowed thickly as he spoke “I love you-”
“My baby’s here!” James burst through a door down the hallway, cheering at the top of his lungs without caring about the nurse shushing him. “He’s here and he’s beautiful come on you lot- come on!”
Sirius quickly scrambled to his feet, the other two boys following in the chaos of unsticking themselves from their respective sofas. You tried to ignore it, the sting in your heart. You loved him too of course. But did he love you the way you loved him? 
There simply wasn't any time for that right now.
Sirius didn’t let go of your hand; he simply pulled, pulled until you came up with him. His hand grabbed tightly onto yours and as you ran down the hall, straight for the door to Lily’s room. 
He never once let go of you.
The room was lowly lit, and Lily looked exhausted, but a smile graced her features nonetheless. Sirius tossed the small velvet bag to James with his free hand. The worry of it left your head as quickly as it had come.
Sirius dragged you by your hand all the way up to the bed, his face turning in wonder as he looked at the small baby in Lily’s arms. 
“He’s so small” Peter called out from the foot of the bed,
“He’s so bloody pink-” Sirius glanced at James’s darker skin, a beaming smile nevertheless decorating his face. “Do you reckon he’ll stay like that? Or did he get the redhead’s genes?”
“Oi is that the first thing you have to say about your godson?” James couldn't help but laugh
“My godson?” Sirius stared blankly at James, briefly flickering between Lily’s equally beaming smile and the baby’s little pink face.
“I meant to ask but-” James smiled sheepishly as Lily glared, 
“Merlin he’s my godson”
“Do you want to hold him?” Lily whispered as Sirius’s face broke into a smile as well, 
“Of course, I want to hold my bloody godson Evans- he’s my godson”
Remus chuckled as he patted James on the back. You couldn’t help but wrap your hand around the camera that hung from your wrist.
 You snapped a picture. 
You knew what Sirius would write on the back of it later.
My godson. July 31, 1980
Just simple, and small, in his fancy, loopy cursive and black ink. But monumental in itself. He had done it. He had a family, he had always had one but now he was properly part of it. He was not just a stray taken in, but he now had a part in it. He’d love that baby until his body gave out. 
He knew it, you knew it, James and Lily knew it. From the second he was born, this baby would be the most loved baby on the planet. 
“I can’t believe he’s mine-”
“You don’t get to take him home mate”
“Hush Prongs- I’m going to be his favorite I know it” Sirius smiled, a playful smirk exchanged between friends. James couldn’t help but quip back
“Right after Uncle Moony-” 
“Ah that’s for sure,” Remus laughed 
“I meant his favorite parent but I reckon Wormtail will be the preferred uncle, with all the candy pouring from his pockets the kid is gonna love him no doubt-” You all couldn’t help but laugh-
“Do you want to hold him too?” Lily asked, her gaze shifting onto your face. “I reckon the godmother also deserves to hold baby Harry-”
“Are you serious? 
“Obviously-” 
“Lily are you being serious-”
“Yes! Black hand her the baby- god-” Sirius chuckled as he passed the small bundle into your arms, placing the camera at the foot of the bed. He was heavier than you expected, and the tears gathered in your eyes as you looked at his little face. Harry was small and definitely pink. He was a quiet little thing, undisturbed by the exchange of hands he was going through. Sirius leaned his chin on top of your shoulder, his cheek borderline pressed against yours. 
“Isn’t he the ugliest most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Oi!”
“He’s so ugly it's cute-” His words tickled your ear
“I don’t think babies are supposed to be all that cute straight after birth Sirius-”
“I know love,”
“Alright, picture time idiots-” Remus said, leaning on his cane as he grabbed the camera with his free hand. James sitting on the side of Lily’s bed as you and Sirius also approached, baby Harry still in your arms.
“I look like shit-” You huffed as you sat on the bed with Lily
“I do too”
“Yeah, but you have a reason to Lils” Lily laughed. Sirius’s hand never left your back. 
“Well- he won’t remember anyway-”
“The picture will-”
“Say godparents!” Sirius had basically wrapped himself to your side, his face pressed against yours, his arm around your waist as he leaned down for the picture.
The flash made your eyes sting, a wide smile on your face. 
It was fitting, the disheveled state of the lot of you, even in the picture the nurse would take for you all later. A family sewed together like a mismatched quilt. 
Sirius smiled all night.
“Seriously though why is he so pink? Is this some sort of condition? Bloody baby doesn’t look anything like Prongs-”
“-Yet” James beamed.
My family, July 31, 1980
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taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie
LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED U OR IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED (i was gone for like a month and some change so i may have not been able to properly keep up with the tag list but i did my best)
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tpwk-formula1 · 5 months ago
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Figure It Out - Landoscar***
SUB! Lando Norris X SWITCH! Oscar Piastri X SWITCH! Reader
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I write for all drivers on the grid!
Summary: After Monza tension is at an all-time high in their shared apartment.
Authors Note: I've been writing for Kinktober and have been loving it so I decided to write a kinky little piece. The urge to post my Kinktober fics early is strong but I'm holding off. THIS IS NOT PROOF READ
TW - MxM action (Hand jobs and blow jobs), face sitting, slight masturbation, squirting, slight degrading
WC - 1500+
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Y/N POV
"Just shut up, Lando," Oscar finally snaps at his complaining teammate turned boyfriend.
"Don't fucking talk to me like that," Lando replied back clearly still pissed off at the whole situation.
"Lando, on the track we are drivers. The whole point is to race each other that's exactly what I did," Oscar continues to defend his bold actions.
"I get that, and I don't even care about the fucking overtake but you could have done it during one of the straights not the first fucking chicane," Lando continues ranting allowing his voice to raise more as he continues talking.
"Both of you shut the fuck up," I finally snap making both of my lovers fall silent. It was rare for me to yell especially when it came to getting in between them when they were arguing about a race.
"Lando, I understand why it's frustrating, you're fighting for a championship while also defending against Charles and Oscar I understand being frustrated over your race result but both of you guys need to work together to make sure to secure constructors. To be completely unbiased here, Oscar the overtake was risky and luckily both of you guys are amazing drivers and were able to survive but Lando is right, it might have cost you guys too much time ruining the chances of a 1-2. However, Lando that does not excuse your actions either. Both of you guys love each other and you need to remember at the end of the day you got points and a double podium," I tell them softly to fend up to keep listening to them yell at each other.
"But babe," Lando started to complain before I sent him a quick glare making him shut up without finishing his statement.
"Both of you strip and go lay on our bed," I tell them both without even looking up at them going back to the book I was reading before they started arguing. When I don't hear movement I look up to find them both staring at confusion.
"Did I stutter?" I ask again a little more firm than before. Both of them shook their head before slowly making their wait to our room where I could hear them starting to strip down. Neither of them are talking but I know for a fact they're staring at each other. Mad or not they love each other and if anyone can turn them on it's each other.
With the layout of our apartment, I can hear every little sound they're making even if they're talking in hushed whispers.
"Lando, how long is she gonna leave us here?" I hear Oscar ask making me smile softly. I knew it was only a matter of time before their anger turned into sexual frustrations. Whether they will ever admit it or not after a bad race weekend especially one pitting them against each other the only way to fix it is to fuck it out of their systems. Sometimes it involved using my body and other times it was them using each other. Those were always the best ones to watch.
"Osc, please stop touching my thigh," I can hear Lando whimper which tells me right away who will be taking the lead tonight.
"Lando, we're sitting on the edge of the bed it isn't intentional, stop being petty," Oscar snaps back slightly, clearly just as frustrated as his boyfriend.
"I need, Y/N," Lando finally whispers out. Oscar doesn't say anything in reply which has me slightly confused until I can hear the tell-tale signs of Lando being touched in some way.
"Fuck," Lando gasps out before I suddenly hear them start to make out quite aggressively.
"Osc, please," Lando begs slightly making my pussy start to throb.
"You're gonna wait to cum until our pretty girlfriend decides to stop playing games with us," Oscar whispers to Lando making me smile. In that moment I made the decision to listen to Lando continue to whine and beg.
I stand up quietly before stripping down and sitting back on the couch with my legs spread wide open. I bring my fingers down to my pussy before I start teasing myself.
"What if she doesn't come in for a while," Lando asks Oscar making me smile cause we all know damn well I'd be in there as soon as I couldn't handle the teasing anymore.
"I bet you anything, she's sitting on that couch with her hand in her panties right now listening to you beg and whine like a little whore," Oscar tells Lando making both of us gasp at his harsh words.
In all honesty, it was rare for Oscar to be the dominant one between the two but it was always a favorite of mine cause he was just a different kind of cruel than when Lando is being the dominant one.
I can hear some movement before the sound of one of them spitting.
"Please Osc," Lando whines out again which tells me Oscar has to be the one on his knees teasing Lando. I can hear the sound of Oscar's wet hand moving up and down Lando's hard cock, which has him whing and gasping at the sensation.
I know how impatient Lando can get, so I decided to put him out of his misery by getting up and making my way to our room. When I get in there I can Lando's head thrown back while Oscar is taking him down his throat.
I make my way over to Lando where I grab his face before placing my still wet fingers into his mouth making him moan at the taste of my pussy.
"Look, she's come to save you. Maybe you'll finally be allowed to cum, but of course, you're gonna have to earn it first," Oscar teased Lando, making him whine around my fingers that were still in his mouth. When I pull them out I lean down and start making out with Lando. I can taste a hint of my juices which just makes me moan into his mouth.
"How are you already soaked," I hear Oscar ask clearly having seen just how turned on I was.
"You know I like when you take control Osc," I whisper once I pull away from the heated makeout session. It doesn't take me long to feel Oscar's fingers plunge right into my dripping pussy making me let out a gasp before moaning loudly against Lando's lip.
It's not long before Lando becomes a whimpering mess which tells me that not only is Oscar fingering me he's also giving Lando a handy.
"Fuck," I whine dragging out the word clearly overwhelmed with everything around me.
It's not even two minutes later that Lando is begging Oscar again.
"Please, Oscar. I'll be good. Please," Lando is begging as much as possible while also trying to keep kissing me.
"Our pretty little slut gets to cum first," Oscar tells Lando making me whine. This has Lando reaching down just enough to start playing with my clit trying to bring me over the edge faster.
"Oscar, please," I moan out once I feel my orgasm getting close to the edge.
"Cum for us," Oscar tells me making me instantly squirt all over both of the boys. Once my orgasm has concluded I hear Oscar tell Lando to cum which has Lando instantly tensing before releasing a high pitched whine before cumming all over Oscar's hand.
"Here," Oscar says while presenting me his cum covered hand which has me instantly licking all of Lando's cum off of it. Once it is clean enough for Oscar he climbs into bed pulling me with him to sit on his face.
"Get to work," Oscar tells Lando which has him shuffling around to get on his knees and start talking Oscar into his mouth.
Once Lando has settled into a good pace Oscar starts eating me out like it's his last meal on Earth. With one hand gripped on the headboard for stability before I tangle my fingers into Oscar's freshly cut hair. I know I'm pulling at it just right when I hear Oscar gasp at the slight pain I'm causing to his scalp.
"Fuck," Oscar moans out shortly after I hear Lando gag slightly on Oscar's cock. I can tell just from the sounds Lando's making he has all of Oscar's cock down his throat right now.
"Close," Oscar gasps out before instantly going back to focusing on my clit which also brings me closer to my second orgasm.
I hear Oscar groan out against my pussy signifying that he's cumming which has me tumbling over the edge with him.
Still slightly shaking I feel Lando lightly lift me off of Oscar before bringing me into his chest for a cuddle. Something that was always a part of our aftercare routine.
"How'd you know that would work," Oscar asks chuckling a little before placing a soft kiss on my lips preventing me from answering right away.
"We've been together for over a year. I know how you guys get," I reply back making both of the boys laugh a little.
Once everything has calmed down around us we all get up before getting into the shower together which inevitably resulted in a round 2.
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eicsferrari · 18 days ago
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annoyance - cs55 smau pt2
summary: you don't like carlos but now he's a williams driver and you have to see a lot more of him
a/n: in case you don't know the finalissima is a football match between the winners of the copa america and uefa european championship. the finalissima 2025 will be between argentina and spain. but now apparently it might be played in 2026 ?? which i didn't know when i started this so let's just pretend for the plot thank u
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
2025
Instagram
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williamsracing & carlossainz55: 2025, the fight starts now👊🏼
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carlossainz55: Let's go team!! 💪🌶️
user5: vamos carlitosss
user3: ready to wear blue💙
user9: we will miss franco ♡liked by yourusername
user4: yn took the picture but didn't like the post we stan a petty queen🔥
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♡liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, alex_albon & others
williamsracing: 2025 team
📷: yourusername
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user1: user4 she liked this one
user4: only bc of alex
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♡liked by francocolapinto, landonorris, carlossainz55 & others
yourusername: new year, i have a good feeling about this one
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user7: she's my favorite non-wag🤍
yourfriend1: 3rd picture, is there wine on the bag?
yourusername: you know me too well🍷
landonorris: i'm still waiting for those photography tips you promised me🤨
yourusername: once the season starts and only if you buy me food
user2: are they flirting???
yourusername: i finally convince you guys i'm not dating franco and you are already trying to get me involved with someone else pls free me😭😭
user8: carlos in the likes👀👀
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williamsracing: help us decide
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alex_albon: carlex for the win
yourusername: i like bonsai
carlossainz55: i prefer carbon
yourusername: ok? make your own comment
yourusername: also why would you prefer carbon?
carlossainz55: idk i just do and we can call our fans carbonara
williamsracing: we agree carlossainz55 carbon it is💙
yourusername: williamsracing betrayal 💔
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y/n: in a scale from 1 to 10, how bad would it be if i quit??
y/n: i can live off franco
your friend: why would you quit don't be ridiculous
your friend: also franco might have less money than you do, it's not a great plan
y/n: i'm convinced carlos thinks i only got this job because of franco and not because of my talent
your friend: did he say that?
y/n: well no
your friend: then?
your friend: cause i honestly still don't understand why you dislike him so much
y/n: okay so when i was at franco's first race i got lost and asked him for directions
y/n: but when i said i was going to williams he asked if i was with franco
y/n: implying i was with franco you know, which already annoyed me
y/n: and then he walked me for a bit, asked me what i do and when i said photographer he said "that's great!"
y/n: but in a sarcastic way?? like it is just a dumb little hobby and he was mocking me
your friend: how do you know?
y/n: body language idkkkk
y/: and then someone called him and he just left me there !!! still lost might i add
your friend: so let me see if i understand correctly
your friend: you met this man at his work place. he helped you while he could, tried to make small talk, then got called for work and now you hate him bc of "body language idkkk"?
y/n: when you put it like that i sound insane
your friend: it is insane babe🤍
y/n: i can't explain it he just sounded condescending
your friend: were you maybe (and just maybe) projecting some of your own fears onto the conversation?
your friends: and all of the things you assume he thinks are the things you are afraid people might think or haters are saying online?
y/n: ...maybe
your friend: do you have any real reason to believe he thinks all those disgusting things??
y/n: ...
y/n: not really
your friend: and don't you think that maybe, since you are working together, the best thing might be to give him another chance? unless proven otherwise?
y/n: ugh i it when you get rational and make sense
your friend: someone has to‼️
Text
lando: hi yn! just confirming our plans for tonight
lando: also carlos will join us, do u mind?
y/n: hi lando!! tonight it is
y/n: and no, i don't mind
lando: great cause i wasn't sure
lando: see you in a bit
Instagram
landonorris posted a story
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caption: i bought her food AND drinks
tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55
replies
↪ user5: omg carlos and yn, war is over????
↪user7: carlandooo
↪francocolapinto: she didn't murder him????
landonorris: worst, i'm almost sure i was third wheeling
francocolapinto: the plot thickens👀
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landonorris: photography lessons
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user3: photographer lando>>
user6: yn is so prettyyy ♡liked by carlossainz55
user8: carlos i see you 👀👀👀
user7: call me crazy but yn and carlos would make a great couple
user9: that's insane get help 🤍
yourusername: these look good, clearly you had the best teacher💪
landonorris: debatable
carlossainz55: ignoralo, sigue enojado que hablaramos español para que no nos entendiera [ignore him, he's still angry we talked in spanish so he wouldn't understand]
landonorris: jokes on you i can translate here👊🏼
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franco: so, how did it go?
y/n: surprisingly really good
y/n: and it was fun to speak spanish in front of lando he was PISSED
franco: and with carlos? he's still alive which i'm surprised
y/n: i have to admit i might have been a little quick to judge him...
franco: i told you, he's a cool guy
y/n: yes i guess
franco: you guess?
franco: cause a little bird told me you two hit it off
y/n: forget carlos, i'm going to kill lando
yourusername has started following carlossainz55
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♡liked by carlossainz55, francocolapinto, landonorris & others
yourusername: call me maybe
- yourfriend1
francocolapinto: para quién estás beboteando? [who are you trying to look good for?]
yourusername: you are too annoying for someone currently unemployed
francocolapinto: ouch😔
user3: franco what do you know??
landonorris: you look so pretty tonight yn
yourusername: flattery will get you nowhere mister
landonorris: please don't kill me i'm sorry😭
user4: what is going on let us innnnn
user5: she started following carlos and then posted this welcome back demi lovato following henry cavill
user7: she's crying for attention 🙄🙄 desperate behavior →carlossainz55 has blocked this user
user7: carlos blocked me????
user5: deserved
yourfriend1: i love you, you are so hot
yourusername: let's run away together
yourfriend1: deal 🤝🏼
Text
carlos: hola, is this y/n?
carlos: i'm carlos
carlos: you gave me your number the other day
y/n: hola!
y/n: yes it's me
y/n: i'm glad you texted me
y/n: i didn't want to do this with lando there but i wanted to apologize for my behavior towards you
y/n: i might have misjudge some things on our first interaction
y/n: but still that doesn't justify my behavior so i'm sorry
carlos: i had a feeling you weren't a big fan of me but i wasn't sure what i had done lol
carlos: but don't worry about it, all is forgiven
carlos: i just wanted to say i had a great time hanging out
y/n: me too!!
carlos: now i'm curious, what annoyed you that day?
y/n: it's going to sound dumb...
y/n: but when you asked me about franco and me i thought you were undermining my job
carlos: i would never
carlos: i think you are incredibly talented and hard working, you earned this place
carlos: and since we are confessing things
carlos: i was asking about you and franco with the intention of finding out if you were single
y/n: oh
carlos: so, are you watching la finalissima tonight?
y/n: yess franco is coming over to watch it together, you?
carlos: i'm going to watch it with some friends
carlos: i have an idea, wanna make a bet?
y/n: mmm it depends
carlos: if spain wins you have to go on a date with me
y/n: you sound really confident
y/n: and if argentina wins?
carlos: i have to dress like a chili?
y/n: oh you are on
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yourusername: listos para lo que venga🇦🇷🤍 [ready for whatever happens]
view all comments
user10: confíen, tengo a los jugadores españoles en el freezer🕯️🕯️
user5: will this break my yn x carlos family?
francocolapinto: don't tell me, we finally got them to be civil😭
anyataylorjoy: vamos argentina🇦🇷🇦🇷 ♡liked by author
carlossainz55 posted a new story
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caption: i really need spain to win😉
replies
↪yourusername: mm i wonder why
carlossainz55: 🙈🙈
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y/n: hey
carlos: hey everything alright? game is still in halftime
y/n: i know
y/n: but about that date
y/n: tomorrow?
carlos: si❤️
carlos: no puedo esperar [i can't wait]
401 notes · View notes
hemi-demi · 21 days ago
Text
Sorry, having sad Martin thoughts again.
So there's this particular scene from episode 144. I for some reason forgot this happened in my first two listens (how, idk. S4 makes me feel a lot), then caught it on my third.
This is the second time we hear Daisy coming to talk to Martin in his office while he's working for Peter.
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Cold AF. Hurts like hell to hear. You can understand his distrust of her, she tried to kill Jon, threatened to pin him with the murder of Jurgen, and Jon almost died again saving her from the coffin. All that tracks.
But that's not what's happening here. Because this follows immediately after:
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Daisy kept coming around the office, getting friendly. Martin knew Peter was around and, if he saw anyone constantly hindering his progress of becoming a part of the Lonely, would have sent her right to it.
But he couldn't just be nice, or didn't feel like he could. Can't give a proper warning when Peter could be anywhere, and if he's too light a touch, she might see it as a call for help and keep hanging around.
So he does the only thing he can, tells her to piss off. It works. He's more lonely than ever, severing yet another connection he was even starting to form again, but she's safe from Peter now.
Which, I have to reiterate, he could have just let Peter deal with her. He is probably harboring a lot of jealousy for Daisy right now. He can't be anywhere near Jon, but now suddenly Jon and Daisy are spending time licking their wounds and listening to the Archers. And Martin is a pretty petty person. He could have kept her talking until Peter got bored and sent her away. Job done.
But he didn't. He readily admits to not really liking anyone here, and not believing anyone likes him either, but he's still trying to keep people safe. Not just Daisy – the entire institute
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He's been single handedly keeping half the Institute from being vanished into the Lonely. And he does it because of Jon.
He doesn't like Daisy, but Jon does. Jon nearly died saving her. Jon did die attempting to save everyone. So when Jon didn't wake up from his coma, even though Martin was falling into his own despair, he decided to make the best of whatever life was left in him to honor Jon's memory and keep the others safe.
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And there's just something about Daisy in particular being the one to reach out to Martin, as well. She knows what it looks like when you start to give yourself to the Fears. She tried to throw out a life preserver, but if Martin took it, it could have dragged her down too. Or at least, it's how he felt (depression will do that to you. You're not worth saving, and if anyone attempts to do so, then they'll only get hurt, so why even bother asking for help?)
Yet another "I don't know how to end this ramble", but just – ugh. This man hurts me. I will never be okay about this goddamn show.
209 notes · View notes
snakeredbirdbatkatana · 8 months ago
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So we all are aware Jason pulls the whole you replaced me or your a pretender to Tim.
Now in the comics Dick really loves Tim like that is his little brother he would protect him with everything he's got.
I want maybe the bats are getting along Jason's over for family dinner, to steal something I don't know he's there.
Now Jason's in the cave sees Tim and decides to be a ass.
"Oh how's it going Replacement enjoying my colors"
Dick who was doing something on the other side overhears this, now Nightwing is famous for his temper we are aware but he also is calculating knows where to hit it where it hurts.
He walks over sees his baby bird's sad little face now Dick remembers that night at the circus he had begged Mama if they could adopt little Timmy he had already claimed the little bird.
And as a big brother it is is job to knock annoying little siblings off their high horse.
"Hey Timmy looking good in our colors, shit replacement, oh I mean Jason didn't see you there"
The look on Jason face is unforgettable.
"I find it really funny the amount of bitching you do Jay-Bird considering if I had my way Tim here would have been a Grayson but alas. Then again never too late for an adoption right?"
If looks could kill Jason would be back in his coffin.
Tim though looks estatic and maybe Dick will feel guilty later but Jason tried to kill his baby.
"It's just funny you know everyone complaining about being Robin the name my mother gave me. It's almost like I can say who wears it and I think the little brother I hugged the night my parents died might get first dibs then again what would I know?"
I want Dick to be Petty as fuck. Now he loves Jason to but in the grand sceme of things the order of importance is.
Damian and Tim
The Titans/Oracle
Duke and Cass
Jason( if he hasn't tried to murder his babies)
Other assorted people
Everyone else in the world
Bruce (and Jason if he has tried to kill the babies)
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canonizzyhours · 8 months ago
Note
I'm a professional screenwriter. I know nobody reading this has any reason to believe that, and I work pretty hard to keep my fandom activity separate from my professional identity, so I'm not going to offer any proof that would doxx me here, believe me or don't. But it's true and I don't just mean I'm trying to get hired as a screenwriter, I mean I am pretty well established in the industry and I've worked on some stuff big enough you've probably heard of it. I've also been active in OFMD fandom for about two years now, since nearly the beginning.
The canyon really freaks me out because seeing it up close makes me worried I've drastically underestimated audiences' empathy gap around characters of color and tendency to sympathize with and excuse the actions of white characters. I've always tried to be conscious about that sort of thing in my work but now that I'm seeing the whole process up close it's so much worse than I always thought.
I think a lot about what I would have done during season 1 of OFMD, if I were in the writers' room and I'd wanted to make sure it would be clear to the audience that Izzy was Ed's abuser and wasn't acting out of secretly sympathetic motives and we're supposed to be genuinely horrified by his actions. I'm in writers' rooms workshopping issues like this all the time. I know the kinds of suggestions I'd make.
Like, if we were worried that the audience would think Izzy's hostility toward Stede was about class instead of homophobia, I might have suggested we make sure Izzy's dialogue never has any reference to Stede's class at all, and that we might do a subplot in one episode where Izzy is equally hostile toward Lucius, since Lucius clearly isn't rich but is extremely gay. But that already happened, and it didn't help.
If I wanted to make sure the audience understood that Izzy is bossing the crew around and screaming at everyone to work harder because he's a petty little bully on a power trip and not because the work actually needs to get done, I might have suggested a scene where Izzy deliberately makes a mess on purpose just so he can order the crew to clean it up. But that already happened, and it didn't help.
If I wanted to make it clear that Izzy has always been awful toward everyone around him -- especially his colleagues of color -- since long before the show started, I might have suggested we repeatedly emphasize throughout the season that while Fang is willing to work with him, he doesn't like or respect Izzy and this is because Izzy has always treated Fang very badly. Have him pull on Fang's beard for no reason and have Fang explicitly say he hates that but knows it wouldn't help to complain. Have Fang tell strangers jokes about times Izzy humiliated himself in public. Have a scene where everybody unanimously VOTES TO MURDER IZZY and someone explicitly stops to ask Fang if he's cool with this and Fang explicitly says yes this is absolutely fine with me and then he actively participates in the murder plan while smiling. But all of that happened and I still see the canyon insisting that Izzy was a much nicer person before the events of s2 when he wasn't under so much stress and has always been liked and respected by the PoC around him, including specifically Fang!
If I were worried that the audience might take seriously the idea that Izzy is motivated by "loyalty to your captain" -- well, honestly I don't think it ever would have occurred to me to worry about that, since he says that in a scene where he's in the middle betraying his captain and I'd probably assume people are capable of picking that up and understanding that when someone says they're abusing you for your own good you should not believe them. But if someone else insisted we address the concern, suggestions I'd make would include: make sure some of the first interactions we see between Ed and Izzy involve Izzy complaining about how he doesn't want to do the job Ed just gave him, then half-assing the mission and lying to Ed's face about it. Show Izzy deliberately undermining Ed to the crew by telling them he's half-insane, then insist to Ed that he's the only one keeping the crew loyal when they're worried about his judgment. But they did that stuff and we still have people thinking Izzy's central motivation throughout season 1 is selfless devotion to Ed.
The show did every single thing I would have suggested, and none of it worked. So what does it say about all the stuff I've already worked on, whenever I've written a scene where a white guy was being a dick to characters of color? Have I just been embarrassingly naive this whole time? Have I undermined my own work by not getting this?
You can't control audience reactions, I know that, that's part of what's great about art, you have to let go and accept that people will interpret things in ways you never intended, I get it. But if it's THIS impossible to choose words that will create the kind of feelings you meant to, what's the point? Is it even possible to write about the kind of abusive relationship Ed and Izzy have, where the white guy thinks he's entitled to control a brown man's life "for his own good" and that the brown guy is obligated to be grateful and reciprocate his "love" and not have a huge group of people creating elaborate justifications for the white guy? What else could they have done? What else can I do, when I'm writing about characters of color? I'm seriously asking. If anybody reading this has advice I want to hear it. What could I do?
#408.
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ivyvenus333 · 1 month ago
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satosugu fic rec list!!
16 fics, 20k - 260k words (ordered by word count), lots of slow burn and angst with happy endings:), all on a03!
✪ – stsg staples (if new, start here ;o) | ✵ – personal favs
+ blurring all the lines, you intoxicate me (flyingmonkiesattack)
"Or: Getou Suguru is married and doesn't believe in soulmates. But when he meets Gojo Satoru, he can't help but be enthralled by the man." (Soulmate-identifying Marks, Cheating, ANGST) wc: 20k / Complete
+ loved you first (flyingmonkiesattack)
“Satoru is used to being clingy with his best friend, draping himself all over Suguru at any and every opportunity. Suguru never seems to mind, giving back just as much as he takes. And then he gets a boyfriend, and Satoru’s world comes crashing down.” (Jealous Gojo Satoru, Getting Together, First Time) WC: 21k / Complete
+ ✵ i'll become your wound (ordinarymonsters)
“He would know this voice anywhere—the softness of it, the warmth. It curls around him, achingly familiar. It’s been ten years, but there are some things not even time can erase. He’s certain he would even recognize the smell of him. The air is thick with coffee beans and breaded pastries, but if it was all stripped to nothing, Satoru would know the slight spice and clean scent of Geto Suguru as well as he knows himself.” -Or, it’s been ten years, and this is how they fell apart—only to fall back together again." (Getting Together, Falling Apart, Second Chances) WC: 23k / Complete
+ ✵ me and my husband, we're doing better (interludewings)
“In which Satoru Gojo decides to adopt two children, only to discover that he accidentally married his ex-boyfriend, Suguru Geto, during a drunken episode just months before their breakup. Now, they find themselves living together, forced to maintain the facade of a loving couple. This leads to a series of petty tricks, cringe-worthy pet names, and the unexpected challenge of raising children together.” (Exes to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Family Fluff)  WC: 46k / Complete
+ crash course on intoxication (velourfantasy)
“There might not be any curse more twisted than love, but frequent alcoholism sure does come close. Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru are in the prime of their lives. They share an apartment together at the same college, they're studying things they both like, and their best friendship is just as strong as ever. It's everything Gojo hoped for and more...until he walks in on his best friend getting laid at a party he forced him to attend. Or: Gojo realizes his feelings for Getou run much deeper than friendship, jam packed with alcohol-induced incidents and metaphors.”  (AU - College/University, Roommates, Unrequited Requited Love) WC: 48k / Incomplete (pray that we get an update soon.)
+ ✪ carry me home (valleykey)
“The boy shifts on his feet. “The year is two thousand and eighteen? Common Era?” Slowly, smile still plastic on his face, Suguru faces Satoru. This fucking dumbass. “Satoru,” he says, dangerous edge to his voice, “what did you do?” Satoru makes some bastardization of a sound, half between a laugh and a cough. “...Whoops?” “I,” Suguru grits, pinching two fingers together, “am this close to mass murder.” He’s joking. Probably.  ///OR: Shortly before Getō would have massacred a village, he and Gojō are thrust eleven years forward into a would-have-been future that Getō is conspicuously absent from.” (Time Travel Fix-It, Geto Suguru-centric, ft. mental spiraling) WC: 58k / Complete
+ ✪ 愛のある場所; river of light (that brings me to you) (cosmichorrour)
“A lesson in love is a lesson in swimming. Except for Suguru, it’s getting dropped into the deep end with the tide licking at his neck, no kickboard or life preserver keeping him afloat.  (Or: This is how Satoru finds the ocean.) (“in love with your best friend things + butterflies in the stomach things.”) WC: 67k / Complete
+ what's it worth to you? (FrozenChopsticks)
“Geto Suguru has done some wild shit for a dollar. He's worked crappy jobs, he's endured awful bosses, but this might be the craziest yet. How hard could it be to be a sugar baby for some pretty boy with a couple million followers online and enough money to run a small nation? Very hard, apparently. And it's not just Gojo's high-maintenance behavior that's hard on Suguru. (no pun intended) Neither man has done this before, but it's a good thing they are both experts at pretending like they know what they're doing. And accidentally falling for each other isn't exactly what they had in mind.” (SUGAR DADDY, Influencer Gojo Satoru, Graduate Student Geto Suguru, SMUTTY) WC: 86k / Complete (so angsty. so horny. FrozenChopsticks >>>)
+ ✪ little things to live for (LyricalPary)
“Suguru is ten years old when Gojo Satoru comes into his life. He's nineteen years old when Gojo Satoru becomes his life. (or, falling in love with his childhood best friend during their annual trip to Okinawa was never part of the plan).” (Growing Up Together, Summer Romance, Hurt/Comfort) WC: 101k / Complete
+ ✵✵✵ crimson supernova (serenadewave)
“"You don't know what you're talking about," Suguru says dismissively, his voice laced with quiet indifference and a hint of irritation. The deliberate clink of books and pens echoes in the stillness, a subtle reminder of the distance he’s putting between them. His gaze flickers toward Satoru. “And get off my desk.” Satoru’s lips curl into a smug smile as he rolls his tongue over the lollipop hanging lazily from his mouth. Unbothered, his eyes sparkle with mischief. "Or what, Professor?" OR: It started out as a game, just something for Satoru to pass the time in lectures so as not to go insane. Really, that's all it was. How the hell it managed to erupt and morph into this, Satoru has no idea.” (Professor Geto Suguru, College/University Satoru, Teacher-Student Relationship, both are adults, SLOW BURN) WC: 104k / Incomplete (THE slow burn of slow burn. I would genuinely sell my soul for this fic. the weekly updates keep me alive).
+ ✵ (when facing) the things we turn away from (Darkness747)
“Suguru had let it go too far with Satoru. But what else was he supposed to do when Satoru was right there, looking at him in the beautiful way he always looked at people? What else was he supposed to do when he could feel Satoru’s body heat from across the bed? Or when their hands accidentally brushed as they walked through the hallways at school? Suguru’s heart broke within him, reconstructing, swelling, bleeding, and breaking again each time Satoru’s eyes met his, looking at him in the beautiful way he really only looked at Suguru. Or (in a less poetic version): the coming-of-age American high school trope but it's Satosugu.” (AU - high school, ANGST, Teen Romance) WC: 109k / Complete
+ you left your mark (FrozenChopsticks)
“At 28, Gojo Satoru's got a whole lot of things going right. He's got a business he loves, co-workers who adore (read: tolerate) him, and a kid he looks after. To his mother however, there are a whole lot of things he's doing wrong. In a bid to assuage his mother's worries about her son staying single forever, he visits a matchmaker. What he expects is a fun time to laugh about later. What he gets is a run in with the man who loved him and left him eight years ago. Geto Suguru is a different man from the boy he grew up alongside and shared so many firsts with. Even if Suguru has been assigned to find Satoru his future wife, they both can't deny the tension that still simmers between them. And Satoru's going to do just about anything to get back the man he fumbled so long before…”  (Matchmaking, Second Chances, Tattoo Artist Gojo Satoru, Romantic Dramedy?) WC: 112k / Complete (Tattoo Artist Gojo Satoru. TATTOO ARTIST GOJO SATORU.)
+ for you, my life (TokyoBunny)
“A story where Gojo didn't- couldn't kill Suguru Geto that day and the windfall that came with his weakness in that moment.” (if gojo saved geto, And they fell in love, caretaking) WC: 136k / Complete
+ split (ohsocyanide)
““Speaking of,” Nanami said, possessing all the eloquence of someone who knew precisely how devastating words could be, “I heard you were getting a divorce.” "A separation," Gojo corrected him primly.” (Married Geto/Gojo, Parents Geto/Gojo, AU-Canon Divergence)  WC: 142k / Incomplete
+ see you through my eyes (svarozhich)
“Satoru Gojo is the pinnacle of strength and standing at the apex of the jujutsu world comes with a price paid in lonely hours and haunting memories. Not so long ago the now-empty spot beside him was occupied by someone capable of reaching out through Infinity and keeping up with his pace; another name worthy of standing equal to his. A best friend he killed with his own hands. The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons happened almost a year ago. Suguru Geto is supposed to be dead. -- “So what actually happens when in assumption the body dies, but turns out the soul does not?” A story about second chances.” (AU- Canon Divergence, Post-Shibuya, Fix–It of Sorts, Getting Together) WC: 231k / Complete
+ ✪ coanda effect (bunniehoney)
“The JJK motorsport AU based on Formula One.” (Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Driver Gojo, Team Principal Geto) WC: 262k / Complete (The woman, the myth, the legend herself. Basically invented satosugu.)
++ drop your fav fics in the comments below challenge, go!
141 notes · View notes
minminyoonjii · 6 months ago
Note
Yay! I was wondering if I could request something like very little!reader needing a diaper, but they are embarrassed and won't wear one, and how the different caregivers would convince their little to wear it? Thank you!
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❤️Ultimate Masterlist
💜Rules and Guidelines
🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist
🌹CW
Wholesome|Domestic Settings|Gender Neutral! Reader|Crying|Diapers|Hurt/Comfort|Fluffy|Tooth Rotting Sweet
💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.
🍄Wordcount: 1.3K
Bang Chan
"Look, baby. It has pretty patterns on it," he said, holding the diaper up. You crossed your legs, "No!" you exclaimed, your cheeks burning red from embarrassment. Chan sighed, patting your tummy, "I know it's a new experience for you, little one. And I know it's going to feel odd but you've been slipping into a younger headspace these days. Daddy's just worried you might feel too helpless without the diaper," he said, kissing your forehead. "I'm big enough," you murmured, nibbling on your bottom lip. Chan chuckled softly, "Baby, you're far from big. You're Daddy's little one. And little ones like you need your diaper. It's not something to be ashamed of, Daddy swears on Wolfie," he said, holding Wolfchan to his chest. You reluctantly uncross your legs, "Can I just try it on first?" you murmured, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Chan smiled, "Of course, baby. Daddy always knows what you need," he said, putting your feet through the holes. "Up," Chan said, asking you to lift your hips. You did as told and squirmed, the diaper coaxing your mind into a familiar haze.
Lee Minho
"Cupcake, it's time," Minho said, carrying you out of the crib. You whined, trying to swat him with your mitten hands. Minho cooed, removing your pacifier, "Mama bought you kitty diapers," he said, showing you the design. You gulped, not wanting to wear it, "Hhgh," you whined, trying to swat him again. Minho clicked his tongue, "Cupcake, we discussed this before. Little ones' like you can't hold their bladder. How many times did you wake Mama up because of an accident, hm?" he asked, removing the clasps on your onesie. You sniffled, rubbing your eyes with the mittens. Minho sighed, blowing raspberries into your tummy. Forcing giggles past your lips. He chuckled, "You'll get used to it, cupcake. Mama knows you'll like it eventually," he said, laying the diaper beneath you and taping it up.
Seo Changbin
"Agi-ah. Stop hiding from Baba," he called out, looking around for you. "Don't wanna!" you exclaimed before covering your mouth. Changbin chuckled and made his way to the closet, "Aigo, uri agi. It's dusty in there," he said, carrying you out. You whined, laying your head on his shoulders, "No want diaper. Diaper uncomfy," you grumbled, puffing your cheeks. Changbin bit back a smirk, "How would you know, hm? You didn't even try it yet," he said, laying you on the changing mat. You crossed your arms, "Just know!" you retorted, squinting at him. Changbin wiped you down, "It's going to be the softest thing you wear. Baba promise," he said, dusting powder on your sensitive parts. You laid pliant, letting him put your feet in the correct holes. Changbin smiled, "Good job, agi-deul," he cooed, pulling it up your waist. He was right, it was the softest thing you wore.
Hwang Hyunjin
"Lovely, you need to wear a diaper if we're going out," he said, putting his hands on his waist. You stuck your tongue at him, "No diaper!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms. Hyunjin exhaled deeply, "Fine. Then Papa and Kkami will go out without you," he said, forgetting he shouldn't be petty with you. Tears spilt down your cheeks, and wails echoed within the house. Hyunjin's breath hitched, "Oh my pretty love. Papa didn't mean it, lovely. Papa just wants you to wear a pretty diaper so that he can go out with you," he whimpered, pulling you close to his chest. You burrowed into his hold, "But it's embarrassing," you whined, rubbing your tears on his shirt. Hyunjin kissed your forehead, "Every little one wears a diaper when they go out. All the big kids will say you did a good job for wearing it, lovely," he said, rocking you. "Only if it's a pretty one," you grumbled, giving in. Hyunjin chuckled, kissing your nose, "Only the prettiest for the prettiest little love," he said, lifting you up.
Han Jisung
"Appa!" you sobbed, forcing Jisung out of the shower. He stumbled out of the bathroom with a skimpy towel that barely covered him properly, "Sweetheart!?" he called out, following your cries. Tears streamed down your cheek like a broken pipe, your shirt drenched from tears and drool. Jisung felt his heartache, "Sweetie," he whispered, carrying you up when he noticed your damp shorts. "Ah," he sighed, chuckling softly when he realized your distress. Jisung carried you to the bathroom, "You're lucky Appa wasn't done in the shower," he said, undressing you. Soft sniffles echoed within the bathroom. Jisung cooed and gave you a good cleanup, "It's about time, you wear a diaper, sweetheart," he said, kissing your nose. You shook your head, "But diapers for tiny littles," you murmured, rubbing your sleepy eyes. Jisung smiled, "You're that tiny little, sweetie. Appa will put the diaper on properly. You don't have to worry about accidents or rashes anytime soon," he reassured, stroking your hair.
Lee Felix
You rubbed your eyes, stirring awake when Felix smiled down at you. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine," he said, stroking your hair. You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd behaviour, "Mommy?" you whispered, wondering if you were looking at a skinwalker. Felix chuckled, pushing down the side of the crib, "It's me, sunbeam," he said, unwrapping your burrito-tucked body. You stretched out of confines, feeling comfy. Felix turned your body towards him, your legs dangling off the sides of the crib, "Do you know what day it is today?" he asked, setting baby powder, rash cream and a diaper next to you. "No!" you exclaimed after realizing what it was. Felix nuzzled his face into your tummy, "Yes!" he retorted, kissing your belly button. You whined, trying to squirm away from him. "Not so fast, little sunbeam. You promised me you'd give it a chance," he said, undressing your lower half. You jutted your bottom lip, "Hmph," you sulked, glaring at him. Felix smiled, "You'll get your brownie milkies if you do," he said, knowing you couldn't deny it. You grumbled but allowed him to put the diaper on you.
Kim Seungmin
"Munchkin, if you keep running around nude I will tell your Mama," he warned, making you halt your feet. "Not Mama," you said, glaring at him. Seungmin smirked, "Yes Mama," crossing his arms. You reluctantly went towards him. "Good munchkin," he said, dressing you up. You flinched when you heard the familiar sound of tape being opened, "No diaper!" you exclaimed, trying to escape his hold. Seungmin groaned but held you firm, "Yes diaper," he said, pampering kisses to distract you. Giggles spilt from your lips, "It tickles," you gasped, squirming. Seungmin chuckled, strapping you in the diaper, "That wasn't so hard now was it?" he teased, loosening his hold. You tried to kick it off but it didn't work. Seungmin grinned, proud of himself, "Munchkin it's better for you to have it on," he said, placing a loud smooch on your cheek. You grumbled but eventually fell asleep with the diaper on.
Yang Jeongin
"Angel, something just came in the mail," he said, opening it up. You snapped out of your headspace, "Wait!" you exclaimed behind your pacifier. "Eh?" Jeongin said, taking out a pack of reusable diapers. Blush burned your cheeks, "Ninnin," you mumbled, fidgeting with your plush. Jeongin chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Do you want to try it on, angel?" he asked, stroking your cheeks. You gulped, looking up at him. Jeongin cooed, carrying you easily, "Come on, angel. Ninnin will help you in them," he said, laying you on the couch. You covered your face with your plush, "I bought them for aesthetics," you mumbled, ashamed of your need. "Tsk, tsk. Angel these are in your size and it'd be a waste for aesthetics. Don't you want to try them? Ninnin wants to see his little angel in their diapers," he sulked, hoping you'd give in. You peeked from your plushie, "Want wear them too," you whispered, finding comfort in his words. Jeongin chuckled, kissing your nose, "That's my little angel," he praised, lifting your hips and sliding the diapers beneath you.
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ltbarnes · 11 months ago
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Back to December (2/2)
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Summary: Your new job as an assistant for the CEO of a big, shiny company was supposed to be a good thing. Instead your ex from uni who completely ghosted you out of nowhere several years ago happens to be one of your superiors. It doesn’t help that he’s only gotten more handsome over the years. But you hate him for leaving without an explanation, and he seems to hate you too. Everything is just fucking great.
Pairing: ex!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader
Word count: 7k
Warnings: OFFICE AU (Ghost is not ceo but he’s up there in the company somewhere), exes to enemies to lovers, harassment, past emotional violence/threats, blood, smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)
A/N: Took me a few weeks but it’s finally here ;) you guys don’t understand how happy it made me when so many people loved the last part!! makes me so excited to write more for the cod fandom! (I have not proofread this because I was too excited to publish it so there might be errors and weird stuff lol)
Part 1
Masterlist
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The car ride is quiet. He glances your way whenever you wince. You watch his hand gripping the stirring wheel tightly, fingers drumming along anxiously with the faint beat of a song coming from the radio.
It's a nice car. Like, you would not afford this even if you saved up for years. You knew Simon was influential in the company, but this...it almost scares you. He's fucking rich. Probably going to laugh at you when he pulls up outside of your apartment building.
This is the first time you have ever been in a car with him. You wish things were different. Mostly that your eyes weren't so puffy from crying. And that he wasn't your ex and you weren't working together.
A red light forces him to slow down into a stop, the only sound now being the wind picking up pace outside. It's so quiet for a few seconds that you barely have the courage to breathe.
"Why did you fuck up my entire office? Whole day was ruined," Simon speaks from nowhere. Your lip twitches, fighting the urge to smirk despite the pain tormenting you.
"How'd you know it was me?"
"Of course it was you. No one else in there knows that I'd have a bloody breakdown over my files being out of order," he mutters.
You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head. "It was petty. But...I was mad. About the coffee-thing." Your voice grows softer with each word, merely a whisper by the end.
Simon clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "Yeah, uh...not my finest moment."
A thick silence falls over the car once more. None of you dare to talk about the thing that actually needs to be brought up, the dark cloud hanging over your shared past. You are not really mad at each other over coffee.
The drive takes much longer than usual because of the heavy rain. You're shivering despite the heat being on. It's been thirty minutes once the wheels slow down right outside of your apartment, and you instantly move to get out after throwing a sincere 'thank you' his way. It's all you can muster.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Simon asks, not even making an attempt to answer to what you were saying.
"What do you mean?" You stop, looking over your shoulder with one hand on the door. You just want to go inside, away from his gaze before it all gets too much.
Simon unbuckles his belt, getting out of the car. Rounds the entirety of it until he's opening your door, leaning down to look at you with a frown.
"You're hurt, for fuck's sake, Y/n. You can't take care of that yourself, no way."
You sigh out of frustration, shaking your head while looking away from him. "Why are you being nice to me, Simon?"
That seems to halt him in his actions. Simon blinks, pauses for a few seconds, before opening his mouth again. "Don't know. But I'm in a chipper fucking mood, so just let me get you out of the car, okay?"
You huff, giving no protest as he takes a hold of your waist to assist you out onto the curb. "You're not in a good mood..." you mutter under your breath. He just scoffs.
Simon sits and waits for you in the kitchen as you wrangle yourself out of your wet clothes into an old sweatshirt and a pair of pyjama shorts. For much too long you stand in front of the mirror, staring at the newly formed bruise on your upper arm. You have to take a few shaky breaths to force the tears back before you limp back into the kitchen.
This outfit of yours is the last thing you want to wear around him, but it's what the situation requires. But did you really have to be so dramatic and fall onto your knees before? This is going to take weeks to heal. And now you have Simon sitting on your chair waiting to patch you up. Simon.
"The first aid kit is in the bathroom, I'm just gonna go get—" You point with your thumb.
He's on his feet before you even have the chance to finish the sentence. You barely even processed the fact that he's discarded his suit jacket and shirt, now walking around your home with a white tank that does no good job at hiding his fucking massive muscles. His arms are covered in tattoos that he definitely didn't have when you last saw him. Fuck.
Simon returns just a minute later, already rummaging through the box for...something. You don't really know what's required for a wound like this. He was right about you not being able to take care of it yourself, which you hate. Loathe, actually.
"Sit down," he tells you, dragging out a chair from the table as if you are his guest and not the other way around. The strangest thing is that you listen, without a single protest. He seems to still have that power over you.
You can't take your eyes off of him as he kneels down, grabbing a hold of cotton and some liquid-thingy you didn't even know you had in that kit.
"Is that gonna hurt?" you ask, his hand one inch from touching your knee. Simon sighs, blinking as if he's going to lose it soon.
"Well, what do you think? It's alcohol in a bleeding wound. Of fucking course it's gonna hurt."
You grimace, biting your cheek, before inching back just slightly. "Then I don't wanna do it," you whisper.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Grow up for once, will you?"
"What do you mean ‘for once’?" you seethe, retracting yourself entirely from his proximity as he rolls his eyes.
"Well, c'mon, what you did today was just...fucking childish." Still sitting on his knees, but it feels like he's towering over you the way he speaks.
"Uh—like you acting like your coffee was cold when it clearly wasn't just to humiliate me wasn't childish too! You started it!"
You rise to your feet, turning away from Simon out of frustration.
"Sit down, Y/n."
"No! I won't...let you in my apartment to order me around and...and—"
"Just sit down," he seethes, getting up to his feet. Now he's really towering over you. You hate it.
You continue walking away towards your bathroom, letting out a wince as you put too much weight on the bad knee. You keep walking anyways.
"Y/n, for fuck's sake!" Simon follows you. He could have been ahead of you if he wanted to already, but he stays behind for some reason. "Why won't you listen to me?"
His yelling makes you turn around with so much anger in your expression. But the anger can't hide the tears pooling in your eyes—nothing can.
"Because you left me!"
Silence. Thick, anxious silence as he stands there dumbfounded. His chest is heaving from your altercation.
"You left me without a single word, Simon! Not even a fucking hint!"
His previous stunned silence turns into a bitter chuckle, one hand on his hip and the other running over his chin as he shakes his head. You see the change in his eyes—irritation turned into real anger.
"Not a hint, huh?" he scoffs. "You could've given a fucking hint that you were sick of me before you went and fucked Graves and half of his team behind my back."
All of a sudden the roles are switched, and you're the one stunned silent. A person who can barely process the words you just heard—did you hear right? Could Simon ever say that to you?
"I was so happy that night. Just wanted to celebrate with my team and my girl—searched the whole party for you, you know?" Simon shakes his head, still that cold, deprecating chuckle on his lips. "And then I find you eating up Philip fucking Graves' face and two of his friends. Fucking two of them, Y/n!"
Agressive flashes of fear-filled memories attack you along with the line of Simon's retelling of that night you go back to so often. Of what you could have done differently, of the anger you felt that he just had to make things worse. Water was up to your neck, pressing on your lungs, and his abandonment pushed your head under the surface.
"You get your fucking boyfriend to back down or we'll leave your pretty body half-conscious on his doorstep."
"Please, just let me go. I'll talk to him, I promise. Please." You were sobbing, the emotions heightened by the vodka in your bloodstream.
"Such an obedient little puppy, huh? No wonder he spends all his time fucking you instead of hanging out with the team." Philip's laughter filled the room, looking over his shoulder to his friends who found just as much amusement in the situation as him.
"Nothing to say, huh?"
Simon's voice shatters your deep train of thought with the sheer bitterness behind it. It makes the tears fall faster.
"You...you saw that?" you ask weakly, your voice frail as if you have been crying for hours. Your arms come up to shield yourself from the invisible presence of them, hugging your torso as if it helps.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did. It was fucking hell, seeing the girl you love cheating on you with three guys. So I'm sorry if I've been acting like a bloody prick, but I can't just pretend I'm not still so fucking angry at you. Don't come crying here saying that my behavior isn't justified when you know damn well why I'm mad at you."
All these years. So many sleepless nights obsessing over every detail of your behavior during your relationship, and this is the answer. You have been so angry at him over leaving, and you never thought you would understand why. But you do, and it breaks your heart even more.
Blood is smeared all over your leg as you look down, and that still doesn't hurt as much as the fact that Simon has gone around for years hating you, thinking that you cheated on him. You loved him so much. Betraying him is the last thing you ever would have done. You understand Johnny's reaction now too—he thought you cheated on his best friend. That's not something you just forgive. It's your job to be mad at the people who wrong your friends.
But a nagging voice in the back of your head tells you to be angry. Simon walked past that dark bedroom, saw what was happening, and left. He could have saved you. It's an unfair thought to have. You can't be upset with him for misunderstanding. He couldn't have known about the threats dealt out in that room, or that the passionate kisses he witnessed was in reality seething, harsh words and a much too up and close Philip Graves. But it still hurts. Still haunts you, having three massive rugby players crowding you in and promising to beat you to a pulp.
A loud sniffle comes from your lips, drying the tears away from your face with the back of your hand. Blinking to rid yourself of the water on your lashes. You have to tell him. Simon looks about ready to leave.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say breathily. Your voice cracks in the middle of it.
"Sorry?" he shakes his head, lifts his eyebrow as if assessing the word. It's clear that's not enough for him.
"I'm sorry you thought I cheated all this time. I understand why—" A hiccup,"—I get why you left."
Your choice of words changes his demeanor. From hostile, clenched jaw with a fire simmering underneath the surface to hostile, clenched jaw and confused.
"I didn't kiss anyone, Simon. I didn't—I didn't do anything with Philip, or any of his friends." Broken words, distorted by the constant movement of your chest and throat as your body desperately fights for you to let out the sobs. Not yet. "They wanted me to get you to quit the team, and I couldn't...I couldn't fight back. Not against all of them."
Nostrils flare, lip is bitten down on. A veiny hand runs over a mouth. Blinking. Hands shake with contained...fury? You don't know who it's directed at.
"What the hell are you trying to say?" he seethes, taking a step forward that makes you take one back.
"We weren't kissing. They were threatening me. Said I'd be left on your doorstep bleeding and bruised if I didn't convince you to stop going after the Captain position. I was so scared, Simon," you say, voice cracking pathetically on the last sentence.
He’s quiet for much too long. You can’t read him, standing there so exposed and vulnerable and he’s silent. That’s why his outburst is so sudden.
"Fuck!"
You flinch, inching backwards as Simon turns around yelling. Not once have you heard him scream this loud. So you stand there, rooted in place, tears streaming down your face as he tugs at his hair with his hands. His chest heaves as if he just ran five miles.
You tremble too. The first sob comes out. It's a sad, pathetic sob that you try to muffle with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Futile. Simon turns around. You can't see his expression through the blur of your tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, burying your face into the palms of your cold hands.
You almost jump as strong arms pull you into the tightest hug you have ever lived through. It's an urgent one, a desperate one. It's warm. Your cheek gets mushed against his damp shirt, hand encasing the back of your head as his chest rises up and down with his rugged breaths.
You lose the single crumb of composure you had left. If Simon wasn't a wall of a man he would have been dragged down with you as your legs lose the ability to carry you, just like in the alleyway. He notices anyway, slowly sitting the two of you down on the floor. Your knee is protected by a gentle hand keeping it from colliding with the hardwood.
"I am so, so sorry, Y/n," Simon tells you on a frail voice. It almost sounds like he's on the verge of crying too. You didn't know his voice could sound soft. "I am so sorry I didn't protect you. That I just—I just walked away. So fucking thickheaded—"
Your fingers clasp onto his shirt, tugging just slightly. It's your silent 'stop'. A reassurance that he doesn't need to blame himself. You understand.
"All these years I—I hated you for something you didn't even do. Fuck, I didn't even give you a chance to explain."
He shakes his head, his hold around you tightening subconsciously. It takes a few seconds before he realizes and softens again.
"Oh fucking hell. I got Graves suspended the day before 'cause I ratted him out to Coach about smoking fucking weed. Fucking shit, this is all my fault. I am so sorry," Simon croaks out. His voice will give in any minute to the guilt and frustration and anger and tears.
"Simon..." you whisper before sniffling, putting your hand on his chest. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself."
He shakes his head again. He will give himself a concussion soon from how much he's done it this night.
"It's not your fault. It's...it was horrible. But it was them, not you. Someone came and stopped it before they could do anything worse."
He takes in a sharp breath. You can almost feel the way his jaw clenches. "Anything worse? They put their hands on you?" he whispers bitterly. "Shouldn't have happened at all. I should have been with you earlier."
"Just some bruises from when they dragged me into that room. But I know you wouldn't have let it happen if you knew. Of course I know that, Simon," you say softly, sitting up just slightly. You don't know when your tears stopped. It's just your throbbing head and the runny nose left. "Simon, you were so protective of me. You cared so much—I know you would have stopped them if you knew. But you didn't know."
Dirty blond hair and his scruffy neck is all you're met with. He doesn't even look your way. And then he's suddenly on his feet, towering over your figure on the floor.
"You're still bleeding. Need to fix it."
You can't answer. Don't even have the opportunity to—Simon's hands sneak under yours arms and lift you up to a stand before you can open your mouth again.
"Simon..."
He keeps quiet. It's that brooding thing where he overthinks. Did it when you were together too. A lot. Simon carries a lot of guilt around, steals it from others and guards it safely within himself. You don't really know how he bears it all.
The sofa sinks underneath your weight as he slowly loosens his hold around your waist, placing you so gently onto the cushions. Might as well be made of glass to him. But then you think that it must be exactly how he views you right now—a delicate, frail thing who needs protection from any and every threat. You have already amassed cracks during the years, during the day even, and just one push will leave you to splinter.
Once again he kneels before you. This time you don't find it frustratingly hot. Now it's soft, a little sad even. There's a frown so deep in between his eyebrows you fear it might become permanent this time.
You don't say anything as you let him clean your wound. Maybe you hiss a little once the alcohol touches the broken skin, but make no move to protest. Simon might need this more than you. Okay, you don't want to die from an infection, but you could have done this with a lot less grace. You would have ten minutes ago.
"I still am, you know," he mutters after many, many minutes of silence. He's wrapping a bandage around your leg.
"What?" you breathe out softly, looking down at his concentrated frown.
"Protective of you," he answers. "I still care. Even if we're not together." Simon gulps, stops for just a second in his work.
"You are?"
His eyebrows rise for a second, corners of his lips threatening to tug upwards. "Didn't see me earlier in the lobby? I was gonna curse you out real fucking good. For my office."
"But you didn't."
"No. I couldn't, not when I saw that you were crying." His hand suddenly stops, resting on your good knee, before he looks up at you. "Why the hell were you crying, Y/n?"
Instantly you close off again, glancing away to escape that concerned expression that makes his eyes so dark and soft. It's an irresistible thing.
"Please, love. I need to—I need to make it better."
You pretend to ignore that Simon just called you love. Instead you focus on the fact that he's trying to compensate for that December night. For all the years you had a broken heart without knowing the reason why.
"Just...something that brought back some bad memories, that's all. Unpleasant encounter." It's practically mumbled, your answer, and you know Simon always hated when you mumbled. Wanted to hear your pretty voice loud and clear, he used to tell you.
His ever present frown grows impossibly deeper. Simon is speculating with himself, it's clear on his expression.
"With someone at work? Who bothered you, Y/n? Who the fuck made you cry?" he seethes, running his hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from saying something worse.
You shake your head. Your instinct tells you to dismiss it, say that it's fine. But maybe you shouldn't, for once. Just tell him that Shepherd actually said something that was far from okay. He was in the wrong. You shouldn't be the one to suffer in silence anymore.
"There was this—you know the man who always wears a Rolex and has the corner office? Shepherd?" you say meekly.
Simon's jaw clenches, but still his hand on your thigh is so gentle. "What the fuck did he do?"
"He...I ran into him on my way home. Collided right into his chest." You swallow air, looking down at the point of contact between you and Simon. "And he caught me. Didn't let go when I tried to go away. And he had this look in his eyes. Was so close, too. I couldn't breathe."
"Fucking hell," Simon groans.
"He said he just wanted to talk...but then he started commenting on my dresses. That he'd watched me 'strut around', as if I purposely put on a show for him, or something. Told me to come into his office on Monday and wear something nice so he would have something sweet to look at. I had to beg him to let me go."
"He the reason you've been clutching your arm the whole night?" Simon asks tensely, nodding down to where the bruise hides underneath your sweater.
You didn't even notice you did that. But it's sore when you move it. The answer to his question comes from your uneasy glance up at him that makes him close his eyes. You think it's to contain something—to calm down.
"He won't get fucking near you again, Y/n."
You gulp, blinking. "But he works there...he's one of my superiors."
"No. The fuck he isn't. He's not stepping a foot inside that building again."
"What?"
"Price will have him fucking murdered for even looking at you funny. Been looking for an excuse to get rid of him for years, and this...I'm so sorry, love. You shouldn't have to put up with that."
You shake your head, looking down to the point where Simon still has the bloodied cotton pressed against your knee.
"You would do that for me?" you ask softly, almost a whisper.
"Do fucking anything for you, Y/n. Would have even during all these years that I was too bloody stupid to reach out." With his hand on your thigh, he shakes your leg gently, enough to make you look him in the eye again. "You were my girl, you know? Swore I'd protect you from every fucker who even looked at you wrong, and not only did I fail at saving you from those fucking worthless pieces of shit who laid their hands on you, but I didn't protect you from myself. Will never forgive myself for that."
Simon's words makes your lower lip tremble again, and you let out something akin to a whimper and sigh before speaking.
"None of that is your fault," you say. "Even though I would've appreciated if you talked to me before just leaving back then, I understand why you didn't. If it was the other way around and I thought you were out with three girls, I would've been crushed. Wouldn't be able to look at you again without breaking into sobs."
He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. It's clear that he doesn't take your words to heart, but there's still something in your statement that registers within him.
"You never told me that you cared for me that much." Simon clears his throat, as if the words are a lump stuck in his airways.
You sigh. You know it's true—you held back on saying those three words for months, thinking that the time had to be right and he couldn't possibly feel as strongly as you did. Then he broke up with you and you never got the chance.
"I wanted to. I wanted to tell you everyday, but I was scared that you wouldn't say it back."
Simon scoffs. "For fuck's sake, Y/n. I loved the shit out of you. Thought everyone could see that from the way I trailed after you like a lovesick puppy."
A bittersweet chuckle comes from your lips, shaking your head to yourself. Blinking away tears stuck in your eyelashes. "I should've told you sooner." It's a decibel away from a whisper.
Simon looks at you as if what will come out of your mouth is the most important thing in the world.
"I think I...I still feel that for you. A little bit," you admit. "It's pathetic that I'm still hung up on you after so many years, but it's hard, Simon. Seeing you everyday and not act like we used to."
"Don't you think I haven't wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you every single day these past two weeks?" Simon seethes. "I've jerked off in the bathroom outside my office more times than I can count and literally cried like a pathetic jerk in Johnny's arms the first day you started work 'cause I was still so fucking hurt that you didn't love me as much as I loved you. I'm a grown ass man, Y/n, and it was years ago. That's how much you meant to me."
"You cried?" you ask breathily, your head empty except his words echoing. Bend you over my desk.
"I've sobbed like a fucking fool countless times over you. The weekend after I saw you—after I thought that I saw you with them—I went back to my mum's house and wailed like a baby into her chest." Simon chuckles, a bittersweet expression on his face.
"I'm sorry."
"No. None of that shit. I caused it. Should've just asked you instead of taking off. Wasn't man enough for you back then. I'm the one who needs to apologize."
You bite down on your lower lip, doing something akin to a nod as you glance away, out of the window.
"And now?" you ask. "Are you man enough now?"
"Careful, love..." Simon says, his voice strained.   "Don't give me hope."
"Hope for what?"
"You know damn fucking well what I'm hoping for," he answers gruffly. You gulp, lips parting to release a shallow breath. His brown eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide from the intensity of his gaze. You know that look.
"Simon, you know I feel the same. You know it." It's nearly a whisper, what comes out of your mouth. Leaning forward just slightly, closer to his face where he's kneeling on the floor. "I already told you earlier that I still—"
Your back is pressed against the cushions of the couch as Simon surges up from his place on the floor. Calloused, tattooed hands grip your face gently as those pink lips you've dreamed about for the past two weeks devour yours desperately. Shuts you up real good.
"I've missed you so fucking much," Simon growls, a certain ferocity in his voice that makes him sound like a beast bowing only for his woman. He kisses you again. "Please. Please let me show you how fucking good I can be to you."
There's no real point in acting as if his words isn't the best thing you've ever heard. You're already panting and preening for him, so acting as if the answer will be anything but yes is futile. You nod furiously, holding onto his wrists.
"Yes. Please, Simon. Yes," you answer breathily, desperately.
The grunt coming from his chest makes your thighs clench together, resonating deeply within your core as the memories of how his touch felt all those years ago spark up every last nerv-ending in your body. Before you even know it, Simon has his large hands on your waist, lifting you up from the couch and sitting down himself. Your thighs straddling his, face to face and chest to chest.
"Ow. Simon, my knee," you say with a chuckle, leaning back enough to keep the pressure off your wounded leg.
"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, love. Are you alright?" he asks, an instantly guilty expression on his face. Didn't seem to pick up on the laugh from your lips. He looks like someone just kicked a puppy in front of him.
"I'm just fine, Si." Your hands come up to his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks underneath your fingertips. "Maybe we shouldn't sit like this, though."
"We don't have to do this tonight. I'll wait for as long as you want me to," he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of your wrist. It almost makes you cry. He always did that back in uni.
"I'll literally fucking burst if I don't have you inside me within the next ten minutes. We'll work around it. I don't care."
Simon chuckles. A sound that comes from deep within his chest, rumbling and warm and so familiar. It festers within you and sprouts, spreading safety and comfort through your blood. Makes you smile, genuinely. He stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto your thighs.
The bed sinks down underneath your weight as he lowers you down on the sheets, so careful to not touch your now patched up knee.
"Just as desperate for me now as you were then, huh?" Simon teases, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his massive frame hovers above yours.
God, your body remembers. It remembers him so well, surrendering to his rough, deep voice as it whispers into your ear. It's an instant thing you feel—safety and simultaneously giddiness. You giggle like a goddamn schoolgirl with a crush, sneaking your arms around Simon's broad shoulders as you nod.
"Mhm, I am," you admit. Without shame. "I've really missed you, Simon. I really have." Your words are softer than before, void of the teasing tone they previously held.
He sighs. Presses his chapped lips to the corner of your mouth, slowly moving down to your jawline, neck. Simon is the toughest, biggest man you know. Curses like a sailor and can snap you in half. But oh, he's so gentle with you. When he wants to, at least. You remember those nights when desperation overtook him, clothes ripping and the breath fucked out of you. And you loved those nights just as much as the ones where he would just trace his lips over your skin for an hour before even touching your by then sickeningly wet folds.
But after years and years of separation and an emotionally wrecking fight that finally led to reunion, gentleness and patience isn't high on your list right now. You want to rip his clothes off and taste him again and feel him inside of you and kiss him even more and touch every inch of his skin. Though, Simon keeps trailing his mouth down your neck, hand inching underneath the hem of your sweatshirt as he hums. The sound makes you giggle. Fucking hell you've missed him.
"Something funny, love?" Simon asks, raising a challenging eyebrow as he lifts his head from your skin.
"Just that sound. Been thinking it about it sometimes."
"Thinking about it, huh?" he probes, pushing your sweatshirt over your head, forcing you to raise your arms. A deep groan comes from his lips as the lace of your bra is revealed to him, the fabric delicate enough to show the outline of your nipple. "Oh, fucking hell. You tryin' to make me come in my goddamn pants, yeah? It's not nice."
"I didn't know you'd see my bra when I put it on this morning, Simon," you chuckle, gaze flickering down to see his frankly hungry gaze.
"Didn't put it on for someone else to see it, did you?" he asks, something akin to doubt in his eyes. Or maybe not doubt, but nervousness.
"No. There's no one else," you admit. "Haven't...been many others since you."
"Not for me either. No one is like you. Tried, but it was bloody useless. Fucking nothing is better than my sweet girl when she's wrapped around my cock."
His statement confuses you for just a second before his hand sneaks it's way underneath your pyjama shorts, cupping your pussy and feeling the embarrassing wetness already soaking your underwear.
"Let me taste you, love," he pleads. You're already squirming, bucking your hips against his hand in search for friction. All you can do to answer is nod, and the second after, your shorts are thrown to your bedroom floor.
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"C'mon, sweet girl. Been without you for fucking years. You can give me one more. Just one more," he tells you, pumping his fingers into you deliriously, possessed by the squelching sound your slick and his digits emit.
It's been thirty five fucking minutes of Simon making you come on his tongue and his fingers and then his tongue again. He's currently on his second round of fingering the living breath out of you. You had forgotten how thick his fingers were, and now with those added years of use, more calluses and lines and wrinkles? You haven't been able to utter a full sentence in a good while.
"Holy..." Your head is thrown back onto the pillow, back arching as if you were in a porn video, thighs clamping down on his hand.
"That's my girl. There we go, there we go,” he mutters, in a trance by the sound of it and his lustful stare.
You have to push his hand away after almost a minute of him drawing out your orgasm by lazily continuing to pump his fingers into you, whining when it becomes too much.
“Insatiable fucker,” you mumble as you lay spent on top of the sheets, chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat on your skin.
And he hasn’t even been inside you yet.
Simon chuckles, that deep rumble that almost sounds like it scratches his insides in some way. A wet, shameless kiss is pressed to your thigh, before he stands up to his full length again. His poor knees must be aching after having been pressed into the floor for so long.
“Missed her. Can’t blame a bloke for wanting to spend time with his missus after such a long time, eh?” Simon teases, making you roll your eyes fondly.
“Just c’mere,” you sigh, smiling up at Simon again, the same way you did at 20. Or maybe not the exact same. Things have changed, you have changed. Simon has sure as hell changed. But it’s better. A deeper affection, a deeper understanding.
The blond giant climbs onto the bed, over you, hovering like a wolf ready to pounce yet a gentleness in his hold that draws away the sense of threat. His thumb cups your cheek, brushes over the skin under your eye. And then he kisses you, softly, something you didn’t he know he was capable of. Back then, it was always passion, urgency. Playful, desperate. This is longing.
You sigh against his lips, feeling his chapped skin and the stubble on his chin. It nearly brings tears to your eyes, the way you have this man over you again. It’s been so long and he’s dozens of pounds heavier with muscle, more tattoos on his skin and scars on his body. But he’s still Simon. And he’s yours.
“Condom? Please for the love of god tell me you have a condom,” he pleads, growls with need against the crook of your neck.
“In the drawer,” you giggle, stretching your arm out in its direction.
He wastes no time. His urgency makes him clumsy, makes you laugh even more, as he tries to tear the wrapper open with his teeth and fails. Gives you a warning glare that does no good job at hiding his fond amusement, while resorting to opening it with his hands like a normal person.
Simon’s hands close around the back of your thighs, pulling your legs up until they press against your stomach. His tip brushes against your wet folds, but his gaze is on your face.
“Ready for me, sweet girl?” he asks, the deep timber of his voice sending literal shivers through you.
You nod.
“Words.”
“Yes, Simon. Please. Wan’ you inside me,” you plead.
“Mhm, know you do, sweetheart.”
It’s all the warning you get before he grabs a hold of his cock, coating it in your slick, before guiding it towards your dripping hole. Your breath catches in your throat, a whine of discomfort coming from your lips as his thick girth presses into you inch by agonizing inch. And yet it’s so good. Fucking hell, you’ve missed it.
“Holy fuck, I forgot—“ you say, not needing to finish the sentence for him to know the sentiment. You forgot how big he was.
"God you're..." Simon growls, keeping still as he bottoms out, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching around his thick cock once again. "You feel even fucking better. How the fuck did I go without her all these years?"
Tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Don’t know if it’s from the sting, the longing, the pleasure. You’re still all pliant and sensitive from the multiple orgasms he drew out of your earlier.
Simon starts to move, rolling his hips slowly into you. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock sliding against your walls, drawing rumbles from his chest.
“Not gonna leave this pretty pussy again, no. ‘S all mine. Needa’ apologize for keeping her lonely for so many years,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The corners of your lips tug upwards.
“Simon,” you whisper, hands entangled into his hair. He tilts his head upwards, looking up at your face. “Fuck me.”
A pleased smirk grows on his face, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so, huh?” he asks, squeezing your thigh, before snapping his hips into yours.
“Oh, fuck…”
Your pathetic bed creaks as Simon bullies his cock into you, the filthy sound of your slick being pushed inside of you filling the room along with the grunts and whines from your mouths.
It’s like a switch turned on in his head when you told him to fuck you, because it’s nearly animalistic. There’s no class or precision in his sloppy thrusts, just desperation.
“Fuck, so sorry, love, but I’m gonna come,” Simon tells you, clenching his jaw tightly with restraint. His large fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he holds them up, his heavy weight flush against you to keep you in a mating press. Despite his words, there’s no shame in them. Just an apology. He wishes he could savor this, but it’s futile. His cock wants something else.
“It’s…it’s okay,” you manage to get out between his thrusts, a smile on your face while his movements grow increasingly sloppy and hurried. “Come for me, baby. It’s okay.”
“So fucking perfect,” he growls, while his thumb finds its way to rub tight circles on your clit. Damn it if he doesn’t make you come one more time. He needs to feel you clenching down on his cock like that. “Gonna make you come again, baby, I promise.”
Your hands paw at his broad back, digging into the chiseled muscles while your thighs wrap around him, bringing him in deeper.
It’s with his face buried into the crook of your neck that he comes with a snarl, heavy breaths likened to the ones belonging to a beast blown right into your ear. Despite his movements stilling, his softening length remains inside of you while his fingers flicker your nub deliriously.
“Uh-huh, I see you, I see you.” He grins, taking note of the bucking of your hips, the way your thighs attempt to press together as they squeeze around his waist.
“Simon,” you whimper, and that’s all it takes for him to press down a little harder, do it a little faster. You let go, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.
“There it is. Look so beautiful when you come on my cock,” he tells you, and you swear you feel him harden again inside of you.
But when you come down from the high, laying there spent and panting, he pulls out so gently. Presses a kiss to the swell of your neck before climbing off the bed and discarding the condom in the bathroom.
“Simon, can you get me a towel?” you ask tiredly, watching his naked figure through the open door.
“Was already on it,” he tells you, stretching his arm out through the spring with the towel in hand, drawing a chuckle from your lips. “Have to take care of my woman. Can’t leave her all messy from taking my cock like the sweet girl she is.”
“You’re so crude,” you say through giggles, Simon walking back into your bedroom.
“Only around you, love,” he answers, kneeling on the bed to dry you off.
“That’s a lie. A big fat lie.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The soft fabric drags against your skin, soaking up the trails of your wetness coating your inner thighs and your folds. So meticulous, careful with each movement. Neat-freak.
“I love you.”
His head tilts up, brown eyes keeping you still under his gaze. And then he smiles. Skin by his eyes crinkling, white teeth showcased, towel discarded onto the floor. He covers your body with his, arms sneaking around your waist to roll you on top of him.
“I love you, sweet girl. ‘S probably gonna be the death of me, but like hell if I’m gonna do anything else than love you,” he whispers, dragging the duvet over your bodies.
Your body goes soft, pliant, in his hold. Comfortable silence fills the non-existing space between you, his breathing the only thing you can hear. Your eyes almost shutter closed when Simon speaks up again.
"I am so fucking you in my office on Monday," Simon tells you, chin on top of your head, your cheek on his chest. You can't see his face, but you know there's a boyish grin on his lips.
You just chuckle tiredly.
"Mr. Price would literally kill the both of us if he found out."
"Tough luck, love. I'm having you on my desk. End of discussion," he teases, squeezing your hip gently.
"You're insatiable."
"And you're beautiful. And sexy, and gorgeous, and entirely fucking mine," he whispers, growls, into your ear. "So we're christening my office on Monday, yeah?"
"You're taking the blame if Price walks in."
"Gladly. By Monday afternoon, nobody in our office will have any doubts about who I belong to."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Future Mr. Y/l/n Riley. You better fucking believe,” he says. “Just gonna get Shepherd fired and gauge his eyes out first.”
“Simon.”
“Yes. Nobody fucks with my woman.”
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TAGLIST: @keendreamnight @xxkay15xx @evie-119 @darkravenqueen98 @naxxsstuff @sirens-and-moonflowers @narcoticv3nus @igotmajordaddyissues @fallenkitten @darling006 @iloveloveeducks @accio-serotonin
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after-witch · 1 year ago
Text
Horrorfest: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]
Title: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]
Synopsis: "I think I'm being haunted," you say. "By the ghost of my dead best friend."
For Horrorfest request:
Dabi with the movie Candyman?
Word Count: 1084
notes: yandere, implied kidnapping
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“I think I’m being haunted.” 
The words come out so fast that you’re not entirely sure that your friend heard them at first, until she gives you a look that is a mixture of pity, confusion  and--maybe you’re imagining it--curiosity. 
“By my best friend’s ghost,” you continue, when she doesn’t say anything. You stumble a bit over the words, realizing how crazy it sounds, how out-there. Especially to your friend who has never given so much as an inkling that she believes in anything remotely supernatural. 
“He died when we were younger--there was a fire, and…” 
You shake your head, unwilling to go further. 
Your friend reaches out, touches your arm. When you look up, she’s got the softest, kindest expression on her face. A smile, subtle and warm, with a twitch of knowing anxiety behind it.
“I know something that might help.”
--
You wake up, breath hitching, sweat covering the back of your head, making your hair and pillowcase damp and uncomfortably warm. 
--
“All you have to do is say their name in the mirror three times,” your friend told you. “And they will appear to you.” She paused. “You could try to get closure. Or at least know that you’re not crazy.” She laughed a little, but the sound didn’t match her expression. 
It was your turn to look confused--and curious.
“My neighbor had a problem with a ghost,” she clarified. You stared, and she bit her lip. “And… so did I, once.”
You frowned. She had never mentioned it, not even once. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your friend shrugged.
“You probably wouldn’t have believed me back then.”
You said nothing, because she was probably right on that count. You didn’t really believe in ghosts yourself until a few weeks ago. 
That was when it all started--the haunting. 
Items missing from your apartment, treasured things. Your old stuffed bear. A photo of you and Touya as children, and that hurt the most, because it was the only one you still had. 
Your mother had misplaced your photo album before you moved out, but this one, the one you kept in a frame on your bookshelf, had been spared. Admittedly, the photo frame had gotten dusty, but so had other things from your childhood.
And now it was gone. Who would take it? Not some petty thief. Nothing valuable was missing. Just your personal treasures, and trinkets.
And then there were the noises. Footsteps in the night. The sound of a cupboard opening and shutting in the morning, before you got out of bed; sometimes they were left open, and your fingers twitched while you shut them.
And… you swear, you swear this is true, you began to get the distinct feeling that you were being watched. During the night, and then during the day. While you tried to sleep. While you showered. While you ate what simple meals you threw together, unable to focus much on cooking or shopping as time went on.
If what your friend told you is true, maybe you can get some closure. 
Maybe you can ask Touya to stop haunting you. 
Maybe you can tell him you’re sorry.
--
This isn’t going to work. It can’t work. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. You’re crazy.
You take a breath, then another. You’re just anxious. You’re just… frayed.
Nothing will happen, probably, and you’ll realize that this has all just been some walking fever dream, the end-result of too much stress from university and your job and all the villain attacks in the area. Your mind has clearly retreated to the last time you felt understood, safe, comfortable; aching for the hole left by the loss of your best friend, a hole that could never be filled no matter how much dirt you tried to shovel into it.
Your fingers fumble with the matches in the darkness of the bathroom. You were tempted to leave the door open, but your friend was clear on that count: it needs to be as dark as possible when you complete the ritual. 
There’s the telltale sound of the match strike, the faint scent of sulfur. And then the match is lit and you quickly hold it down towards the tea candles you set up on the bathroom counter. When they’re lit, the bathroom is less dim, but no less frightening. If anything, the flickering candlelight bouncing off the walls gives the room (and your reflection) a strangeness that makes your chest tighten.  
Just… do it. Do it and get it over with, and if nothing happens, then you can call a therapist to work through your clearly ongoing grief and stress issues. But if it does work, then maybe… maybe.
You exhale, closing your lips a little, and look straight into the mirror. 
“Touya… Touya… Touya.”
A moment, then another. Then another. 
But the reflection in the mirror doesn’t change. There is no rippling, no blurring, no appearance of the ghost of your dead friend. Nothing at all, except your own tired face and the flickering yellow-orange light of candles. 
A low ache blooms in your chest. What were you expecting? That his ghost would show up in the mirror and forgive you for not being there for him, forgive you for letting his picture get dusty, forgive you for living the life he never did? 
You scoff at yourself, at the ember-lit reflection in the mirror.
And then the bathroom door behind you creaks open, and every nerve in your body stands on edge.
The reflection in the mirror does change, then. Not replacing yours but showing a figure standing behind you. Not just a figure--
Touya is standing behind you.
Only his hair is black and he is burnt and it’s Touya, Touya, Touya burnt from the fire and here to drag you to hell or drive you crazy or something incomprehensible in between.  
You turn, slowly, aware of his reflection in the mirror, aware of the way adrenaline has taken away your ability to feel your body.
“Touya,” you say, voice hoarse. I’m sorry, how are you, why are you here, why have you been haunting me--all these words stick to the roof of your mouth.
The specter grips your wrists with all-too-warm hands, and oh, oh, this is not a specter but flesh and blood before you, something twisted and wrong but wholly alive.
“Not anymore,” he breathes out, and he smells of sulfur and ash. 
The candles behind you all snuff into darkness at the same time. 
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razorblade180 · 3 months ago
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Inspiration
Ruby:Yo-yo?
Carmine:Hmm?
Ruby:Ren told me you paid a visit to him for some training. Said you did pretty good.
Carmine:Not really. Stances were okay but aura manipulation is weird. Probably won’t rely on it too much.
Ruby:Seems like you’re drawing inspiration from everyone you can. If that the case, I have something for you.
The reapers reveals a long weapon’s case. She puts in the ground in front of her daughter and taps it with her foot, causing it to open up. Two curved blades lay brightly inside. Their detail is so intricate in the engravings and design. It’s obvious they’re meant to combine. Carmine picks them up to find they have little heft to them but are drastically lighter than her own sword. She might as well be holding nothing.
Carmine:Wow, these are crazy looking. Not necessarily my style but I can see how they could be useful.
Ruby:They’re what Cinder uses.
Carmine:…….What? How did y-
Ruby:These are replicas I made and trust me when I say they’re identical. If you put them together then it can fire arrows.
Carmine:Why would you ever make these?
Ruby:Because, my little huntress, I can be as petty and spiteful as anyone else when pushed far enough. Use these on patrol and missions for the next month; study them well. Utility, movement, reach, all that you can.
Carmine:“Know thy enemy” right? I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting this from you considering our differing views on how to handle the situation.
Ruby:I made a vow to you the day you were born that I will be a mom before a huntress when it came to making sure my family was safe. I still plan on finding and taking out Cinder myself, but if for some reason you find her first or she finds you, then by all means, give her every layer of hell you can.
Carmine:I don’t suppose you’ve made me a parasol blade too?
Ruby:If only that’s all it took to learn Neo’s moves. I mean this, just avoid her. She’s at least a three person job and two of them need to hate her.
Carmine:Heh, okay then. Mind if we go a few rounds then?
Ruby:…It’s better if you ask Ren?
Carmine:C’mon. I know you don’t like training me but-
Ruby:No, it not that. I just…I might go too hard if you’re using those.
Carmine:So? Honestly you’d be doing me a favor. Everyone always talks about how intense you can get, all the stories of your passion and hardcore moments. I don’t get to see that. I actually feel weird for never seeing you angry. I get angry all the time!
Ruby:Sweetie, what kind of a parent would I be if I took out repressed rage on my child in a sparring match?
Carmine:…Better than Raven. Better than your mom too.
Ruby:!? Wha-
Carmine:I think you’re pretty cool, despite everything that’s happened. We always try to our feelings out but honestly it never really works well. I get you’re trying to be an example, but it’s okay if normal being a mom doesn’t come as naturally as a huntress. Mix both. I don’t care. I kinda need both. I mean if I can survive you then Cinder would be easier by comparison. Plus…it’s not like I could stop myself from swinging at you seriously either.
Ruby:Did you..are you saying I piss you off?
Carmine:You’re my mom. Every daughter gets pissed at their mom.
Ruby:That’s not…inaccurate. Sigh Are we really doing this?
Carmine:Are my eyes silver? *points blade out* Well, Mrs. Hero? Show me why Cinder is too chicken face you head on!
Ruby:Fine, but name a restaurant first. You may think I prefer being huntsman 24/7 but I’d like to have some regular quality time with my daughter after this.
Carmine:Hmmm, how about your home cooking?
Ruby:…*smiles* Deal.
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astolfofo · 11 months ago
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I lowkey kinda feel like writing smth for dr ratio but take this idea for now:
Revisited the 36 questions musical (music in it is so banger my god). Imagine you're one of dr. ratio's old classmates. An academic rival if you will. You part ways with him after high school. You could not imagine going to a university with him. You pity the poor students that do.
But he does come back into your life. You've seen him occasionally at your job. YOu do your best to ignore him, treat him like you would with any other colleague that you might have known. At an arm's length. You're not friends with any of them. You certainty would not treat him with more kindness than you would with any other person. Suffice to say, although petty, you had never gotten over how he was just always just barely a mark or two above you.
That was until you realized that the distance between you two was so great, that he was now your boss. You found out he was a professor in a university through the grapevine of your coworkers who can't stop swooning over him. You tried to ignore them, focus on your work, but today, they were loudly announcing that he was going to be the manager of your department. Strange, you think to yourself. He had never seemed to have an interest in your line of work. He had always been highly theoretical. You had turn to be highly practical. He was one meant for the sciences, while you could only surmount to doing practical application. You'd have imagined he would be doing things that were beyond what the mundane could comprehend. He shouldn't be here.
But he was.
WHILE being a professor at one of the top universities. Countless accomplishments, probably a wall full of certificates and awards. You had grown not to care about things like that. But it still felt that he was invading the one thing you were good at. Still though, you wouldn't let it bother you. In the worst case, you'd switch companies, maybe move somewhere else and he wouldn't be a problem anymore.
But Dr. Ratio seems to have different ideas. Management under his hand was very different. You were immidieately promoted to the highest rank, below manager. Much to your distaste, you had told him multiple times to promote one of your coworkers. They had much better qualifications for becoming a manager than you did. But alas, your protests always came to deaf ears.
Suddenly you were crushed by work, tons of pressure, and under his scrutiny. He was a big fan of doing big, risky projects. Ones that you'd always be responsible for if you failed. You'd try to politely deny his requests, but he'd insist, threatening that you'd be fired if you didn't pull through.
At one point you had just had enough.
You coldly place your resignation onto his desk. The box of your belongings was balanced between your hand and your knees.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"My resignation. I'm leaving." You say simply. "Don't try to convince me to stay. Working under you is simply not something I am suited for."
He seems uninterested. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Is that so? I was under the impression that you were doing quite well."
You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or scream in that second. You were sure your hair was going to turn half-white before he picked up a goddamn clue. You suppose passing out three times and looking like you had your eyes punched wasn't a strong enough indicator.
"Ah... well... I'm flattered you think that way, but I really think it's time for me to move on...."
"And your plan after this is...?"
"Oh. Maybe work at someplace else." You lie, "I have a few options I can choose from, I'll probably end up working at one of those."
Dr. Ratio looks at your face, and then looks up and down. You stand there akwardly waiting for his approval to leave. You began counting down seconds. If he wasn't going to let you leave in the next two minutes, you'd walk out the door yourself.
"Why don't we sit down and talk first? Before you leave."
What? "Oh no sir.. it's fine... really..."
"It's been a few years since we've last seen each other and talked, hasn't it? I was wondering when you were going to approach me again. It's just a shame it's in this way."
He turns around and puts the sheet of paper into the shredder. You look back at him wide-eyed, debating on whether you would just walk straight out.
"Why don't you set your things aside? Maybe put them back on your desk? It's not like you'll be leaving soon. Unless you want to retire now?"
You open your mouth preparing to yell every curse word you can at him.
"Save your insults for later. Now tell me why you pretended not to recognize me for the past year I've worked here."
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genderqueerdykes · 3 months ago
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hi forgive the unsolicited advice, but that doctor experience was fucked and you have a right to file a complaint. Also, have you considered bringing a friend to advocate for you? I do it with my friends and then the doctor listens to me repeat my friends' questions and has to explain their bias to me or be on their best behavior and give the medical care they're actually supposed to give.
that's not unsolicited advice at all, thank you!
i do not have many friends or people who can come to appointments and advocate for me unfortunately- i had to separate from my last friend group because of how toxic and abusive they were being, so i'm currently in the middle of looking for new local friends. i do have a neighbor who cares about me a lot though and i might be able to ask her to attend appointments with me where i feel like i'm unseen
that's really great that your friend is there to help you with that! i did that for one of my first appointments when i was seeking help for my fatigue/fibromyalgia. she did a great job of reasserting what i had been saying to the doctor and not letting him just make assumptions
what i'm going to do is call back the patient advocate for that facility and let them know that i got my surgery done without a hitch elsewhere and that the person who told me that they couldn't do the surgery for me because of my weight need to be reported and honestly fired, because they're doing this to other people, not just me. you shouldn't go into medicine if you are not concerned about improving the health of every patient who comes into your office.
i don't care if they're rude. i don't care if they're homeless. i don't care if they have addictions. i don't care if they are incoherent or in a psychotic episode. i don't care if that person is 600+ lbs- they still need help. as a medical professional you don't get to pick and choose who you help, you don't get to be petty and only want to provide care to rich, skinny white people. everyone needs help eventually
thanks for your kind message i appreciate it!
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hyunjinsbelovedamericano · 1 year ago
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Fights with skz
a little bit angsty but still fluffy
not proof read once again
Bangchan
i feel like he would be the first to apologize,you would fight over him overworking himself and not taking time to rest he would make some dumb excuses like,"It's my job"or"I'm doing what's right".You would get mad at him for not taking breaks like he should so you confronted him about it and it turned into a whole big fight.He would realise he was the one in the wrong not to long after and apologise and try to take breaks
Lee know
Fights with him would be so complicated,he would be so mad during the fights and probably say things he doesn't mean.If you wanted his attention because he was focusing on his work more,he would get mad and start to call you clingy and say you always want attention etc.You obviously got hurt by this because who wouldn't?Then he would realise he messed up when he's about to go to sleep and apologise
Changbin
You rarely get into fights with Changbin,the chance is extremely low,but when you do there never that heated or serious.There would still be anger though and you would storm off angry,he would feel so bad after and try to shower you in love and kisses,he just wants you to forgive him .You know he won't stop until you forgive him so you just give in and accept his love because you would be a fool not to
Hyunjin
This man would be so petty,you guys would go days without apologising because of the pettiness.You guys would do things like,slam the door,leave the door slightly or wide open,not cook when expected to etc.He would be so sick of this and just wants to go back to a normal relationship,You would find him crying in the bed and automatically feel bad.You guys would forgive each other and go back to a normal relationship(if you don't changbin might steal him jk)
Han
Fights with him would be so sad and tiring,i feel like he would do something unintentionally bad and that would piss you off,he wouldn't realise what he did wrong after the whole fight happened,he would ignore you unintentionally,you would try talk to him another time thinking he was just busy at the time but when you talk he still ignores you.This leads to a fight.But he realises he messed up and asks for your forgiveness
Felix
Fights with this man would be 0.02% likely to happen,i think he likes to avoid fights so if he does something that you don't like he would apologise right away,but when you do get into fights with him there would be alot of tears.When you storm off hw would lock himself in the bathroom and start crying feeling really bad,you can't stay mad at him for long so you apologise before he can because how can you stay mad at him for that long
Seungmin
I think fights with him would be really heated or mild,whenever you get into fights like lee know he would say things he does not mean,maybe he had a bad day and took it out on you.He might call you so annoying or frustrating out of anger and you know that,but it still hurt.So you walk away from the fight and sit in the bedroom.You start to cry in the pillows and seungmin overhears it.He would feel guilty for making you cry and start to comfort you,even if your still mad at him he will not go away
Jeongin
Fights with jeongin would either be simple and you would forgive each other easily or complicated and you would take forever to forgive each other.It's either you both realise it was a misunderstanding and start apologising to each other or you guys take days to forgive each other,it depends the reason your fighting.You would not talk to each other for days and the members would notice and make a plan to get you guys back to normal
Bro i am so sorry for not posting a fanfic in a while,i just had no energy to 😭,but i would love to hear your requests i only do fluff and angst <3
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