#like no wonder no one recognizes Link
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peachssodapop · 2 years ago
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can you imagine being from one of the non Hylian/Sheikah races in botw precalamity, and like the Hylian royal family announces they've found their hero. Then the king, an absolute brick shithouse of a man presents to you the tiniest hylian you've ever met
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year ago
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I feel like Khachaturian is such an underrated composer :<
Everyone should listen to Gayaneh >:(
#though i think most people would prob recognize sabre dance and Masquerade#but i absolutely love Gayaneh in its full form its soooooo good#and i cant recommend it to anyone UGH#like 'hey you should listen to this ballet! how long you ask? uhhhh 2½ hours.....'#though ive probably listened through the whole thing at least 10 times#ITS MY FAVVVVVVV ITS SO GOOD!!!#but i listened to it when i was reading a book. like literally only listened to this one ballet while reading it#so now whenever i listen to it i can still only think 'huh this has the essence of [novel]'#i love when music gets permanently linked in your brain with something else#so then it just has the pure essence of whatever its linked to#like i literally feel like im in the universe of that book every time i listen to Gayaneh#though its hilarious bcs the book in question is Chinese but i cant help but imagine the charas in traditional Armenian clothes instead 😭#i sent the ballet to my chinese friend and im like DOESNT THIS REMIND YOU OF [novel]#and shes like bruh of course not 😭#some fanart i have of a different chinese novel was drawn in a more slavic folk style#so thats now how i imagine this one book in my head#SORRY SUPER RANDOM TANGENT#anyways i love slavic classical composers by far the most absolutely nothing can beat them imo#but anyways listen to Gayaneh. the 2 hours are worth it i swear!!#im listening to Masquerade while i make gifs so i wonder if Jense and Mark will now have this essence#catie.rambling.txt
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months ago
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Bradford Has a Princess
I used one of the amazing Tim Bradford ideas posted by @nevereclipse for this!! I hope you like it and it's along the lines of what you were thinking!☺️
Pairing: Tim Bradford x younger(24-26y/o)!fem!reader
Summary: Tim Bradford is whipped for you, treats you with nothing but the best princess treatment, and when his fellow officers call him out on it, he realizes how he truly feels about you.
Warnings: fluff! princess treatment and Tim being a SOFTIE™
Word Count: 1.6k+ words
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You blow your hair out of your face before you tug it painfully behind your ear.
“Easy,” your boyfriend mutters, reaching over carefully. He gathers your hair much gentler than you had, pulls it loosely behind your ears, and uses the hair tie he wears around his wrist to secure it. “Better?”
You hum before you say, “Thank you, Tim.”
His hand moves down your back, resting comfortably against the base of your spine. After you finish your project, you take a paper towel from the nearby roll and wipe your hands.
“Need anything else?” Tim asks.
You smile over your shoulder as you rest against Tim’s chest. He’s older than you, and though some people might frown upon your relationship, you love him, not only because of the selfless way he treats you. Tim places his arm around your shoulders, then uses his free hand to pull your hand closer to him. He traces his thumb over your knuckles, then looks at your nails as his calloused palm holds you like you are the most precious thing in his life, in the world.
“I can make you an appointment at the nail salon you like,” he offers. “Tuesday?”
Tim shifts his hands, running his fingertips up and down your palm as he smiles.
“I can wait,” you answer. “I actually saw a kit online that lets you make your own nail art. Maybe I should try that next time.”
“Send me the link.”
Tim kisses your temple, then twirls the ends of your hair around his fingers. He decides he could spend forever here and wouldn’t even care what his friends thought about it.
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“Tim!” Angela calls. “We’re all going to Andre’s.”
“Actually,” he begins.
“No, you skipped out the last three times, you’re coming with.”
“No arguments,” Nyla adds. “We might even make you pay.”
Tim sighs, his shoulders dropping as he nods. He follows them out of the station and is unsurprised to see Lucy, Nolan, Aaron, and Wesley waiting in the parking lot.
“Tim, you’re coming too?” Wesley asks. “I thought you’d finally sworn off fraternization.”
“Ha ha,” Tim deadpans.
“Can I ride with you?” Aaron asks. “My car’s getting a new wrap and Wesley’s backseat is a little tight with the carseats.”
Tim doesn’t answer but doesn’t say no, so Lucy nods and encourages Aaron to go. Aaron climbs into Tim’s passenger seat and buckles his seatbelt without a word.
“Oh,” he exclaims as Tim backs out of the space. “Who’s the Dior lip gloss belong to?” He lifts the tube out of the floorboard and recognizes it as part of a set his mom has. “This is expensive, they must be missing it.”
“She knows it’s here,” Tim grumbles, extending his hand to take it.
“Your sister?” Aaron guesses as Tim places it in the center console. He sees several other items, like a scrunchie, a receipt, and powder.
“None of your business,” Tim snaps. “Why are you getting an expensive car wrapped, anyway?”
“Because I can.”
Tim and Aaron fall silent, Tim thinking about you as Aaron wonders if the others know about the woman taking up space in Tim Bradford’s truck and in his life.
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During your next date night, Tim opens the door for you, then wraps his arm around your waist as you enter the restaurant. He moves to his left to stand slightly behind you as you wait to be seated, and you smile over your shoulder at him.
At your table, Tim pulls your chair out for you, but you stop before you sit when someone says his name. You turn, and Tim’s shoulders tense beneath his blazer.
“Angela,” he greets tightly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on a date,” she answers with a smile. She looks at you before she asks, “And you?”
You sense the tension and interrupt to introduce yourself. You provide your name and shake her hand, then look to Tim.
“My girlfriend,” he tells Angela. “We’re on a date, so…”
“I’ll ask more later then. I mean that Timothy, you have a lot to tell me.” She turns toward you again and says, “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
Alone, you take Tim’s hand across the table and apologize for interrupting him and his friend. He promises that he wasn’t bothered by that and assures you that he wasn’t avoiding introducing you on purpose but was just surprised. You fall into easy conversation, as usual, and the date is over far too soon.
When the waiter leaves the check on the corner of the table, you ask, “Going Dutch?”
“Going insane if you think I’m letting you pay for a date,” Tim mumbles before speaking up to say, “My treat.”
Tim offers his blazer before you walk out into the windy Los Angeles night, and you wrap your hands around his arm as he leads you to his truck. You’ve never felt as loved and as cherished as you do with Tim Bradford.
As you enter Tim’s house, he uses your joined hands to pull you back toward him. He dips his chin, gesturing for you to sit on the couch, then lowers to the table before it. With a gentle touch, Tim runs his hands down your leg, from your knee to your ankle. After he hooks his finger under the strap of your heel, he pulls your foot up, resting your calf on his knee to unhook the small buckle against your ankle and remove your shoe. He repeats the process with the other shoe, then lays his hands on your knees and leans forward.
“Hi,” you whisper with a smile.
Tim smiles in the proximity, then runs his hands up your legs to rest on your thighs.
“I love you,” you add.
“I love you,” he replies before he moves beside you on the couch, cups the back of your neck in his hand, and pulls into a kiss that proves it.
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Tim stops mid-step as he enters the roll call room the following morning. Angela and Aaron are perched atop the tables to watch him with matching looks.
“What?” Tim asks.
“You have a girlfriend,” Angela says.
“That I’m thinking you bought Dior for,” Aaron adds.
“Who are you and what did you do with Timothy Bradford?”
“Yes, I have a girlfriend, and I bought her some makeup,” Tim admits. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal?” Aaron repeats incredulously. “You, Tim Bradford, are whipped.”
“He took her to an expensive restaurant last night,” Angela tells Aaron without looking away from Tim. “I bet he footed the bill, too.”
“There is no reason to be discussing this at work,” Tim points out. “So, drop it.”
“Drop what?” Lucy asks from the doorway.
One word, Tim mouths to Aaron. Aaron nods, but Angela smiles. Tim knows he has no power over her, but when she changes the subject, he sighs and nods once. She’ll bring it up again when he least expects it, but for now, the ‘news’ of his ‘being whipped’ for you is contained. He isn’t ashamed of you, of course, but some things need to be private.
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Immediately after walking into Tim’s house, he kisses you so hard that you can feel the sticky texture of your lip gloss as it smears from the corners of your lips and onto your chin. When he pulls back, holding you up as you blink at him, breathless, he uses his thumb to wipe away the shiny mess he made.
“I missed you too,” you say.
“I was told today that I’m whipped,” Tim replies.
You furrow your brows, and Tim taps his knuckle against your forehead and smiles as he shakes his head. You relax but hold his side as you wait for more information.
“Aaron and Angela know about you, and he told me I was whipped. I realized that he’s right.”
Terrified that Tim is about to break up with you after this realization, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. He huffs and tugs it free.
“I am more in love with you than I ever dreamed of being capable of. So…”
Tim is clearly trying to find the right words, and you smile as you offer, “Incandescently happy?”
“Completely and incandescently happy,” he agrees. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Tim smiles, then notices he disturbed your outfit with his sudden affection. He tugs the ridden-up fabric down over your hips before dragging his fingertips along your upper arm to fix your top.
“Remember when you bought me the makeup wipes?” you ask.
Tim nods and inquires, “Do you need them?”
You try to contain your smile but fail. “No, you just proved you can take off lip gloss without them.”
Tim tugs you closer, hooks his arms under your hips, and lifts you up. You gasp in surprise before gripping his shoulders. After he carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the counter, he takes your shoes off and stands between your legs.
“Should I make dinner or are you going to keep distracting me?”
You tap your finger against your jaw and pretend to ponder the question. “That depends… will your friends still be okay with this relationship when they find out you’re a cradle robber?”
“Maybe I should give you back then.”
You pout, and Tim kisses your forehead before he turns away. He passes you a bouquet of red roses, then sets a glass of your favorite beverage beside you. It’s the response you hoped for, and after you gently place the flowers aside, you pull Tim closer by his collar and smile against his lips.
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saucingitup · 8 months ago
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Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long
June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.
Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.
The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.
From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.
And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.
Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.
I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.
People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.
They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.
This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!
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evilboyfies · 2 months ago
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yan! prince who is first in line to the throne amongst all of his siblings, be them directly linked though blood or lowly offsprings of his father's countless concubines.
he is so sick and tired of the responsibilities that rest on his shoulders; of the imposing weight of the whole nation that will soon be his. he can't stand it, he wants to run away and hide, perhaps live as a trader or a mere peasant.
the crown is heavy. that much is true.
he's never been able to step out of line. there are so many things he has wanted to say, but he can't even express them in a breathless whisper. he wonders if he's far too brainwashed to have a mind of his own. he's merely the spitting image of what he is expected to become — his father, the king, ensured that ever since childhood.
yan! prince, who one day overhears the chaos outside the castle gates. he knows he shouldn't, but the curiosity was too palpable and overwhelming. he thought he'd die if he didn't get to see for himself what the big deal was.
he stalks over to the balcony overlooking the entire capital in his room and, with a tentative hand, peels back the curtains just the tiniest bit. his eyes, both wide and hesitant, search the courtyard for the cause of the disruption.
his eyes land on you. you, the leader of a protest. you're calling for the king to reveal himself, to stop his unfair treatment of his own people and to take responsibility for the crisis he has plunged the country after recklessly taking part in a war.
his breath hitches. he never thought it was possible to speak and act so freely. his whole life, he had only known fear and had only been able to recognize authority when he he spots it. his best friends have always been loneliness and helplessness, his only pillars of support.
you, however, show no signs of any of the sort. in fact, you're probably the bravest person he knows. you could probably be put to death for merely saying a single bad word about the king, let alone almost storming the castle.
his lips breaks out into a smile. if only he could be just like you...
no, that alone wouldn't be enough.
he's decided it and there's nothing anyone else can do to discourage him. he's as stubborn as he is ignorant.
his father had been quite impatient for his marriage. but now, he has officially found his bride. he found you.
he shall accept no other.
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pathologicalreid · 8 months ago
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hi! i was wondering if i could request a spencer x fem kindergarten teacher! reader who has to be interviewed by the team when something happens to one of her students (they find him) and spencer sees her and is just like in love immediately. thank you so so much!
kindergarten crush | S.R.
when one of your students goes missing, the BAU sends the A-team to ask you some questions
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to child abuse/endangerment but nothing detailed, kindergarten teacher!reader, spencer is smitten, emily is such an older sister, average cm case stuff word count: 1.86k a/n: ugh if you know how much i love teachers then you know how much i loved writing this!!!! tysm for requesting!
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“Don’t teachers leave school when it ends?” Emily asked, following the secretary through the elementary school hallways.
The secretary glanced behind her to make sure Spencer was still following, “Contract hours end at four in the afternoon, which is about twenty minutes after the last bell,” she responded. “Some teachers are in charge of after-school clubs or they’ll stay to grade or plan for the next day, but the rest head home at the end of the day,” she continued.
Emily nodded in understanding, “And when does Ms. Y/L/N usually leave for the day?”
For a moment, the secretary’s resigned expression faltered to one of concern, “Once all of her students leave for the day.”
“Is that usually at a different time every day?” Spencer asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they turned another corner, the walls were coated in colorful flowers with the names of what he could only assume were the kindergarteners scrawled on them.
There was nothing but a sigh from the secretary as she considered her answers, “That might just be a better question for you to ask her.” She continued leading the way until she stopped in front of a door that was being held open by a doorstop, knocking on the door, she peeked her head in, “Y/N?”
From where he was standing, Spencer could see your head peek out from beneath a desk, but once you recognized that you had unexpected guests, you stood up straight, “Oh, hi,” you greeted, hastily walking around the clusters of tables as you made your way to the door.
“Y/N Y/L/N?” Emily asked, pulling her credentials out when you confirmed your name, Spencer followed suit, “We’re Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid with the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit, do you have the time to answer a few questions about a case we’re working on?”
The bright smile that had initially been on your face quickly fell as you eyed the FBI credentials in front of you, “Oh, Cody,” you murmured. Stepping to the side, you gave the two federal agents space to enter your classroom.
Prentiss thanked the secretary before stepping into your space, “Oh, it’s colorful in here,” she said.
“It’s a kindergarten classroom,” Spencer responded quickly, “Studies show that there’s a link between bright colors and brain development, so these colors are probably conducive to a productive learning environment.”
He went over to the side of your classroom, watching you as you nervously wrapped your arms around yourself, “Thank you?” You said quizzically, not sure if you should take what he was saying as a compliment, “You are here about Cody, right? Cody Jenkins?”
Spencer nodded, “We are, you knew immediately, though.”
You moved your hand to cover your heart as if it was racing, “I was worried when he wasn’t here yesterday, but I knew when I didn’t see him today that something was wrong.” Your eyes flickered between Emily and himself, waiting for either one of them to say something, “Oh my god, is he okay?”
“Why were you so worried when Cody didn’t come to school for two days?” Emily asked, tilting her head to the side, raven black hair catching in the fluorescent school lighting.
Sitting down at your desk, you sighed, “Cody loves school. He’d never miss a day unless it was absolutely necessary – I’m the one who brought the first concern to the administration that there might be problems at home, but…”
Raising her dark eyebrows in curiosity, Emily shared a look with Spencer, “But what?”
Watching you, Spencer noticed the way you nervously fiddled with a beaded bracelet on your wrist, although he couldn’t quite make out what the lettered beads spelled, he was able to deduce that the bracelet was important to you. “What’s on your bracelet?” He asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, he craned his head to try and read it on his own.
“Oh,” you said, looking down at the bracelet as if you needed reassurance that it was still there, “A student made it for me a long time ago. When I was still a student teacher,” you looked at the beaded creation fondly, “The mascot was the dolphins, so it just says ‘dolphin’. Spelled with an F, of course, because she was four.”
Once he knew what the bracelet said, he was able to make out the words, even noting the dolphin charm at the end of the word, “You care a lot about your students,” he said, stating the obvious, but the words seemed to put you at ease. “What do you know about Cody’s home life?”
Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Spencer and he tried to make himself seem as friendly as possible. “I know his parents have had some trouble – his dad has a bad history, as I’m sure you know, but his mom is a good person,” you said, reaching your hand up and scratching the back of your neck.
“But she never left Cody’s father,” Emily said questioningly, seeking confirmation more than anything else.
Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you shrugged, “I’ve never been in that situation before, I don’t get to speak on the difficulty of leaving, but I can tell you that she’s a good person – she loves her son.”
“You care a lot about your students,” Spencer noted aloud, he looked around at the clusters of tables – each table was stocked with the same supplies. You even had a snack station at the back of your classroom.
Quickly, you nodded, “I don’t believe in kids getting a lesser education just because they don’t have the money or the support system at home. I do what I can,” you admitted. “Do you… do you think Cody’s dad did something to him?”
Sadly, Emily affirmed your question, “He’s a person of interest in the case.”
Pressing your lips in a thin, white line, you slouched back into your office chair, “Sometimes I wonder if there’s more to do. The state requires me to teach these kids about stranger danger, but last year a majority of AMBER Alerts that went out were for family abduction.”
“I’m sorry that you know that, Ms. Y/L/N,” Spencer told you.
You brushed off his apology, “For eight hours a day, five days a week, it’s my job to keep these kids safe – even if that means knowing things that I don’t like.”
Both Spencer and Emily accepted this, and they continued to ask you a few questions about what you knew about Cody. From your point of view, he was just a kid trapped in a bad situation, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it ever hurt you to send him home at the end of the day.
As the two of them left the elementary school, he shook his head in disbelief, “She made three reports on the father, and none of them were taken seriously by the school.”
“I know, Reid,” Emily commiserated, “So, the teacher?”
Her question came when the two of them piled into the SUV, giving her a bewildered look, Spencer furrowed his brows, “What about her?”
Emily scoffed, “’You care so much about your students,’” She said in a mocking voice, taking one hand off the wheel and placing it on her chest, “’Oh, I’m so sorry that you have to know that information’. What was that about the colors in her classroom?”
Rolling his eyes, Spencer sat back in the passenger seat, “Okay, first of all, I do not sound like that. Second of all, I was building rapport – you should try it sometime.”
She chuckled from the driver’s seat, tossing a piece of paper in his general direction before placing her hands near the bottom of the steering wheel, “Here, this is for you.”
“What is it?” He asked as he took the paper and unfolded it.
Humming, Emily didn’t even look as she responded, “I wrote down her room number for you, so you can go ask her out once this case is over.”
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Your door was closed when he got there and he wasn’t quite sure if he should knock or just give up. It wasn’t a far drive to get to your school from Quantico, and if he could ever work up the courage to make the drive again, he could always try then.
Lifting his hand to knock, he hesitated again, opening his palm and letting his hand drop to his side. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself, taking the sticky note that Emily had ‘gifted’ him and triple-checking the room number as if his memory and your name on the door weren’t enough confirmation.
Giving up, he turned around, stuffing the paper in his pocket as he did so, and almost running into you in the process, “Oh!” You said, stumbling back and taking a moment to reorient yourself before meeting his eyes. “Oh,” you repeated, softer this time, “Dr. Reid, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Spencer,” he corrected and immediately cringed. “I mean, I’m not here in any professional capacity, so… you can just call me Spencer.”
Flashing him a bright smile, you grinned in response, “It’s nice to see you again, Spencer.” You proceeded to tell him he could call you by your first name before inviting him into your classroom.
Looking around the room, the colors of the space once again made him feel welcome, “You’re here late,” he observed, looking up at the clock and noticing that it had passed your contract hours while he stood outside your door.
You nodded, “It’s the first of the month tomorrow, so I need to switch over my calendars and everything.” You went to pick up a dry-erase marker from the whiteboard, “Um, have you… did you find Cody?”
“Yes,” he responded immediately, remembering the excuse he had given the team when he told them he was going back to visit you. Morgan and Emily weren’t likely to let him forget. “He’s safe, and it looks like he’ll be able to stay with his mom,” he informed you, relishing the way his words put you at ease.
Any remaining stiffness in your stature faded, and the weight of your missing student was officially off of your shoulders. “Thank you – and thank you for coming back to let me know,” you said, putting your hands behind your back, the two of you seemingly at an impasse.
Taking a deep breath Spencer braced himself, “I actually didn’t come back for that. No, I mean, I did. I wanted to let you know that Cody was safe because you were worried and he’s a kid so obviously that was something that I thought you deserved to know since-“
“Spencer?” You said quizzically, smiling at him as he rambled on about your previously missing student, “What else was there?”
His eyes widened as you smiled at him, “Would you want to go out? With me?”
Your smile dropped from your face, and he began to emotionally prepare himself to lay face down on his couch tonight, but what you said next surprised him, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
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ybklix · 9 months ago
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𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲
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dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg
★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader
✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol
word count: 5.1k
(masterlist)
♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡
a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!
There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”
You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.
There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.
Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.
They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.
A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.
So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.
You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.
“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”
Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.
You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.
“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.
The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.
But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.
“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.
You nodded, confused, he went on to say:
“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.
You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.
You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.
All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.
Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.
Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.
But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.
You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.
You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.
You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.
“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.
You saw them, they looked totally lost.
“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.
“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.
You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.
Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.
He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.
The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.
But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.
You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.
“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”
“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”
Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.
“After party, with who?”
The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.
“Well, who are you working for.”
Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.
You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.
“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”
“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.
“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.
“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.
“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.
You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.
You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.
“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.
It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.
You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.
You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.
Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.
After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.
“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.
You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.
Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.
What was going on?
Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.
So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.
Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.
“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”
Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.
“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.
“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”
Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.
You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.
He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.
“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.
He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.
Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.
He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.
“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.
This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.
“Get on your knees, beautiful.”
He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.
Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.
Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.
You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.
He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.
So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.
“Use your pretty mouth.”
You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.
Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.
“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”
He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….
You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.
He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.
You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.
“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.
“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.
You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.
“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.
But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.
“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”
And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.
He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.
And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.
“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.
“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”
Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.
“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”
Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.
You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.
Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.
“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”
You tried to nod between gripping your hair.
“Say it.”
“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”
“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”
His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.
Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.
You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.
“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”
You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.
“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”
“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.
You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.
“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.
You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.
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ninibeingdelulu · 8 months ago
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Years later ✧
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Plot: It makes you and your husband so happy to see your daughter and Emi playing together.
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The mouthwatering aromas of sizzling stir fry and rice wafted through the cozy kitchen where you busied yourself over those steaming pans. Every so often, peals of high-pitched giggles and rumblings filtered in from the rear patio - beckoning you to steal a glimpse beyond those wide glass panels.
Your heart swelled at the sight unfolding just outside.
There was Emi in all her towering, dragon-esque glory - currently stretched out across the manicured lawn with those massive clawed paws tucked beneath her chin. Giant saurian pupils blown wide while watching your five-year-old daughter scamper about with unrestrained glee, that tiny cherubic figure weaving between the kaiju's sinewy limbs in a game of cat and mouse.
Whenever that feisty little rapscallion dashed near enough, one of Emi's enormous talons would playfully swipe in her wake - always mindful of her miniature stature as mother and child erupted in breathless, rapturous laughter again.
Matching expressions of wonderstruck glee etched across both their beamings despite the stark juxtaposition in scale.
In that moment, the years simply melted away for you too. Transporting you right back to those surreal early days of first welcoming their strange yet irrevocable sisterly bond into the fold alongside Ken - both females linked through his patient, doting paternity in diametric yet equally vital ways.
A tender brush across your forearm caused you to startle back to the present, finding Ken's openly affectionate gaze trained in from the nearby breakfast nook.
Your husband watched that heartwarming scene unfurl with those chiseled features rendered utterly tranquil and unguarded - an idyllic vision of harmony you'd once yearned for him to experience.
"Just like real siblings playing together, don't you think?" Ken rumbled in that low timbre tinted with wonderment while you smoothed the backs of your fingers over his stubbled jawline.
He eagerly captured those roaming digits before you could retreat them - calloused lips ghosting reverently across each calloused knuckle while drinking you in with the same unshakable adoration.
"They are real siblings, sweetheart. Raised under the same steadfast love of their equally devoted parents..."
At his declaration, you released a tiny, breathy puff against Ken's forehead before leaning in to steal a lingering brush of your mouths - ignoring the stinging prick of joyous tears blurring your vision.
Because you recognized the profound truth embedded within those tender syllables.
This sprawling, unconventional household of yours was irrevocably bound together through far more than mere blood alone.
An unbreakable tether of insurmountable love and acceptance Ken nurtured so steadfastly and without exception - through you, through Emi, and now your spectacular daughter too.
Another rowdy outburst of giggles caused you to break that reverie, following the sound outside once more.
There was your baby perched precariously atop Emi's flank, little feet swinging merrily while the mighty kaiju craned her saurian neck around to gaze upon that cherished bundle with endless devotion too.
Just as her adoring 'father' continued watching with that soft, doting light dancing behind those cinnamon depths.
Basking in the resonant completion of his mismatched, boisterous brood playing together as one perfect unit without constraint...
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literaryvein-reblogs · 30 days ago
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Writing a "Curious" Character
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Curiosity - the impulse or desire to investigate, observe, or gather information, particularly when the material is novel or interesting.
This drive appears spontaneously in nonhuman animals and in young children, who use sensory exploration and motor manipulation to inspect, bite, handle, taste, or smell practically everything in the immediate environment.
The Five-Dimensional Model of Curiosity
Deprivation sensitivity—recognizing a gap in knowledge the filling of which offers relief. This type of curiosity doesn’t necessarily feel good, but people who experience it work relentlessly to solve problems. This dimension was derived from Berlyne and Loewenstein’s work.
Joyous exploration—being consumed with wonder about the fascinating features of the world. This is a pleasurable state; people in it seem to possess a joie de vivre. This dimension was influenced by Deci’s research.
Social curiosity—talking, listening, and observing others to learn what they are thinking and doing. Human beings are inherently social animals, and the most effective and efficient way to determine whether someone is friend or foe is to gain information. Some may even snoop, eavesdrop, or gossip to do so. This dimension stems from Renner’s research.
Stress tolerance—a willingness to accept and even harness the anxiety associated with novelty. People lacking this ability see information gaps, experience wonder, and are interested in others but are unlikely to step forward and explore. This dimension builds on recent work by Paul Silvia, a psychologist at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro.
Thrill seeking—being willing to take physical, social, and financial risks to acquire varied, complex, and intense experiences. For people with this capacity, the anxiety of confronting novelty is something to be amplified, not reduced. This dimension was inspired by Zuckerman's work.
The researchers conducted surveys across the United States to discover which of the dimensions lead to the best outcomes and generate particular benefits.
For instance, joyous exploration has the strongest link with the experience of intense positive emotions.
Stress tolerance has the strongest link with satisfying the need to feel competent, autonomous, and that one belongs.
Social curiosity has the strongest link with being a kind, generous, modest person.
They also explored attitudes toward and expressions of work-related curiosity.
In a survey of 3,000 workers in China, Germany, and the United States, they found that 84% believe that curiosity catalyzes new ideas, 74% think it inspires unique, valuable talents, and 63% think it helps one get promoted.
In other studies across diverse units and geographies, they have found evidence that 4 of the dimensions—joyous exploration, deprivation sensitivity, stress tolerance, and social curiosity—improve work outcomes.
The latter two seem to be particularly important: Without the ability to tolerate stress, employees are less likely to seek challenges and resources and to voice dissent and are more likely to feel enervated and to disengage.
And socially curious employees are better than others at resolving conflicts with colleagues, more likely to receive social support, and more effective at building connections, trust, and commitment on their teams.
People or groups high in both dimensions are more innovative and creative.
A monolithic view of curiosity is insufficient to understand how that quality drives success and fulfillment in work and life. To discover and leverage talent and to form groups that are greater than the sum of their parts, a more nuanced approach is needed.
Psychologists have compiled a large body of research on the many benefits of curiosity:
It enhances intelligence: In one study, highly curious children aged three to 11 improved their intelligence test scores by 12 points more than their least-curious counterparts did.
It increases perseverance, or grit: Merely describing a day when you felt curious has been shown to boost mental and physical energy by 20% more than recounting a time of profound happiness.
And curiosity propels us toward deeper engagement, superior performance, and more-meaningful goals: Psychology students who felt more curious than others during their first class enjoyed lectures more, got higher final grades, and subsequently enrolled in more courses in the discipline.
Since the 1950s psychologists have offered competing theories about what makes one person more curious than another. Rather than regard curiosity as a single trait, we can now break it down into five distinct dimensions. Instead of asking, “How curious are you?” we can ask, “How are you curious?”
Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
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security-unit · 1 year ago
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I'm a sucker for in-universe fandoms and I can't stop thinking about the idea that murderbot writes sanctuary moon fanfics when it's bored and it becomes in-universe fandom famous not only for good fic writing but also for the batshit insane chapter notes such as "sorry for the late chapter, I got shot again" and "if I told you why this chapter is late you'd be able to find out who I am through the newsfeed, so you shall continue wondering. enjoy"
the readers are going insane questioning how it's still alive. also none of them know who it is. it doesn't have any other online fandom presence linked to its fic account. it never reveals any information that can be used to figure out who it is other than it has a very dangerous job and is augmented in some way.
the name I've been going with as a placeholder is "SecRin" but I am open to username suggestions (considering something related to Eden so one of Tapan & Co can be like "I met someone named Eden once, they were very sad and very competent at security" in the big fandom discussion about who the fuck is this fic writer)
anyways Ratthi likes sanctuary moon. Ratthi reads the fics (before going on The Survey) and gets invested. he only finds out MB is SecRin when MB leaves the note and Ratthi reads it and goes "wait a second" because he recognized the writing style
also like. we can't forget the ART and MB interview.
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like come on.
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charlotte-zophie · 1 year ago
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Therapy conversation
Dear Fandom, dear Mr. Gaiman,
I hope this isn´t weird but i have something to confess.
Since I watched the second season of Good Omens, I've gone through so many phases that I barely recognize myself anymore.
My first reaction after episode 6 was shock, then I was disturbed because I didn't know that it was possible for a series to have such a strong influence on my psyche, I questioned myself and doubted my sanity. Then I was overcome by an incredible sadness and was really heartbroken. I felt like a pubescent teenager, in my mid-30s. I couldn't sleep properly for several days, had nightmares and my thoughts were with these two ineffable loving idiots the whole time.
And the worst thing about it was that for the first few days I was really ashamed to admit to myself and my husband that I was completely and hopelessly immersed in this world. I did nothing but watch videos, listen to sad songs, and read heartbreaking fanfictions for days. And of course I read the book again and watched the series over and over again. All in the hope that it will ease my heartache a little.
But as is often the case in these situations, after a few days in which no real change occurs, you have the thought that you will be lost in this feeling forever. But since I have 3 children that I need to look after, of course locking myself away for weeks with heartbreak wasn't an option, so I had to find an outlet for myself to channel my pain.
So I started painting a picture. By Aziraphale and Crowley. And stroke by stroke I let my feelings flow out of me and into the picture.
It took over a week until I had a motif in which I could see my thoughts and feelings expressed and then it took another week until I finished the picture. On an old canvas with paints that haven't been used for a long time, with many, many layers of old paint underneath.
But when the picture was finally finished, it really took a load off my mind. It was like I had broken a dam and was finally able to let it all out and convert it into creative energy.
But I think the most important thing was that I uploaded the picture to Tumblr and received such a response that I was incredibly touched and immediately motivated to paint more pictures.
Since that day, hardly a moment goes by when I am not holding a pen in my hand or not thinking about a new picture. I'm in one of the most creative phases in a very long time and I'm really enjoying it.
I am so grateful for the wonderful people here! Here I see that I'm not alone with my strange feelings that I still don't really know how to classify. Here I read thoughts that are so similar to mine, here I see works of art that melt my heart, here I feel understood!
And I am so grateful for the pain that showed me the way back to my creative energy!
Thank you Fandom!
Thank you Neil Gaiman!
I would have been lost without you!
Because I don't know my way around here very well, I didn't think about pinning the picture in question as a link when I created this post, but since many people have asked about it, I've pinned it here. Thank you all, love love love
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cozycottagetarot · 6 months ago
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What's Your 'It Factor'?
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Notes:
'It Factor' is defined here as a standout quality or things other people would find inspiring or agree sets you apart from others in some way. I had imagined this would turn out a lot different but I noticed the reading was more so in a general sense rather than in a specific context, so do keep that in mind as you read it!
This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨ Please take only what resonates.
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings | Paid Readings - $10 and Under - Open 🥂
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PILE 1
What are your core strengths or talents that define your unique 'it' factor?
Pile 1, your 'it' factor comes from ability to utilize to apply your skills in any area you choose to dive into. It doesn’t have to be something you’re naturally good at. As long as you set the intention to pursue something and have confidence in yourself, you’re immensely capable of achieving it. You have a unique talent for blending and transforming what you learn into other aspects of your life. It’s like you’re able to morph into whatever you decide to be, while remaining strong and successful. That adaptability and transformation is a huge part of your 'it' factor.
It might not seem like a big deal or even feel like a talent, but when you commit to something, you’re like a seed with the potential to grow abundantly. This applies not just to creative endeavors, but to any area you choose. Another big factor is your calm, quiet confidence. It’s not bold or loud but a deep knowing that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to. This self-assurance amplifies your 'it' factor.
For you, this blend of intentionality and intuition is a core strength. You might wonder how this is an 'it' factor, but it's incredibly admirable and can be applied to any area of your life. You have almost infinite potential to thrive in any space you enter; you just have to believe in your ability to do so.
Hey there! Thanks so much for checking this out. 💕 If you're curious to dive deeper, there's an extended version of this reading on Patreon. It reveals hidden qualities or talents you might not even realize you have and highlights the aspects of your personality that make you attractive and magnetic to others. 🌟 Intrigued? You can explore more here.✨
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PILE 2
What is Your Core Strength or Talent That Defines Your Unique 'It' Factor?
You have a remarkable way of breathing life into the things around you, creating an aura where everything seems to work in your favor. You're incredibly magnetic, and your presence inspires others. Even when you're uncertain about where life will take you or when you feel lost, you hold onto hope and the belief that life has the potential to improve. Your ability to romanticize life makes you feel like 'it.' Even when others have a more negative perspective or tell you to be 'realistic' (rightfully so at times), you maintain your optimism and hope that things will work out, even if you can't see it yet. You also recognize your limits and understand that your nurturing energy needs to be focused on yourself as well. People often envy you because things always seem to work out in your favor.
Hey there! Thanks so much for checking this out. 💕 If you're curious to dive deeper, there's an extended version of this reading on Patreon. It reveals hidden qualities or talents you might not even realize you have and highlights the aspects of your personality that make you attractive and magnetic to others. 🌟 Intrigued? You can explore more here.✨
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PILE 3
What Is Your Core Strength or Talent That Defines Your Unique 'It' Factor?
One of your most defining traits is your unwillingness to remain in situations, relationships, or mindsets that don't serve your highest good. You're not afraid to walk away or go within to set yourself up for new beginnings full of excitement and potential. This courage to venture into the unknown may be your unique 'It Factor,' bringing you unexpected but beautiful moments. From an outside perspective, it's inspiring to watch.
You do things when they're right for you, not on anyone else's schedule. If you have dependents—whether they're children, siblings, family, or even professional connections—your actions are never reckless. You make these choices to show up better for those who rely on you. You never take anyone for granted and can align your actions with the best interests of yourself and others, which is truly amazing. Your ability to pivot for the greater good of yourself and others may actually be your defining strength.
Hey there! Thanks so much for checking this out. 💕 If you're curious to dive deeper, there's an extended version of this reading on Patreon. It reveals hidden qualities or talents you might not even realize you have and highlights the aspects of your personality that make you attractive and magnetic to others. 🌟 Intrigued? You can explore more here.✨
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maikissed · 3 months ago
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you're why I'm staying
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jude bellingham x reader part two of the previous story: the day I saw your eyes, I stayed LINK
warnings: A LOT of smut, it exhausted me lol
note: I think there will be a part 3 because I want to make some drama...
There was a drunk guy that appeared out of nowhere while you tried to push your way through the crowd on your way out. For a second you though it was Noah, because the posture of your space invader matched his very well, and to add to that, he grabbed your forearm to bring your attention to him. It was not Noah.
“Hi” the man smiled rakishly, but there was nothing charming about that, it was off “Leaving so soon?” he gazed down to the coat you were holding in your other hand “I was hoping for a dance with you, please don’t tell me I’m late”
You begun to feel uncomfortable, but kept your face straight and rather friendly to keep this situation casual.
“Unfortunately I am leaving, so if you’ll excuse me” you graced him a light smile, wondering why the hell he kept on holding onto your arm.
“Come on, one simple dance” he pressed, completely blocking your way.
Now it got tense.
“Get your hand off” you shot, visibly annoyed with his disrespectful attitude.
“There’s no point in being so difficult” his answer agitated you, you took a big breath in, ready to start a mayhem.
“Is everything alright?” a familiar accent reached your ears and you sighed in relief once realizing you might have been saved by Jude in this peculiar situation “Do you know him?” he directed his question to you, before quickly gazing down at the man’s hand still placed on your arm.
“No, I don’t” you spat, snatching your hand from his tight grip. Finally.
“Then why the fuck do think you can put your dirty hands on a woman like that?” Jude’s voice collected and steady while he turned to him, the look on his face very much serious. This looked interesting.
The guy snorted, a weird expression contorted his face while he looked at Jude. Something between hurt pride and a dumb realization. Maybe because he did recognize the face in front of him, or maybe it was the bitter taste of being interrupted and put down.
“Get the fuck outta here” the words harsh and final and you watched as the guy turn away without any last look your way.
You were grateful.
“Thank you” you uttered, feeling desperate for some fresh air.
He followed you out, as it turned out, and you wondered if he was trying to catch up with you, which is why he appeared in such a crucial moment just before, or was he simply leaving to call it a night as well. Without Rose.
“I’ll get you a cab” he proposed and you halted, ready to oppose, walk away as quickly as possible to hide yourself from all the strange confusion you felt “Forgive me if I’ve done something that offended you” and you were silenced when you took in his words.
There was uncommonly many taxicabs and ubers driving around, unlike in others parts of the city. One of the drivers pulled in a second after he waved his hand to call him in. Jude opened the door and awaited for your move.
“It’s alright, I’ll take the tube” why were you trying so hard to stand up to him since he was kind enough to make sure you’ll get home in a quicker and safer way?
“Don’t like the idea” he shook his head, still waiting patiently, not trying to persuade you or impose you a choice, rather standing there with an impression on his face that told you that he knew you would at last enter the cab “Please?”
And you folded, not wanting to bicker with him in front of this club. What surprised you next was the fact that he circled the car and got in as well. So he was being a true gentleman now, making sure for you to get back home without any other critical encounters with strange men trying to lure you, or maybe you just got involved into some kind of game with him, that he has planned very much precisely. You did not dare to ask about others and about Rose. Out of fear and abashment, or maybe it was a worry that you would ruin something that was clearly reserved for the both of you. Perhaps you wanted something and perhaps he wanted it too. Were you a bad person? Were you both? Or maybe it was nothing but pure, and maybe he was in fact being a gentleman.
He looked your way once he got comfortable and you let out a laugh.
“Is it your mission tonight to be my knight in shining armour?” you asked before the driver interrupted you to ask for the destination.
Jude smiled at your question, turning to look outside the window for a moment.
“Is it bothering you?” he murmured “Just say a word and I’ll leave”
That was the last thing you wanted, although you feared the consequences of every other minute spent in his presence. That’s why you ran off the club, that’s why you did not want to take the cab. You were not sure of his intentions, you couldn’t even define your own. This tiny cab, you, him and the taxi driver that appeared to be an obstacle for you somehow. What was so significant that made you so drawn to him? You started to hate the universe to put you in such position.
You said nothing, turning the other way with a little smile on your face, remembering the feeling of his hands roaming the curves of your body, his chest pressed against your back, breathing on your ear and neck.
The road was not long, after a few minutes the driver took a turn to the street where you lived. And of course Jude was the first to step out, walking to your door to open it for you. You almost laughed again when he extended his hand to help you get out. He was an extraordinary specimen. You took his hand, stood up, looked once again closely into his heavenly eyes and uttered out a question that startled you in place.
“Do you want to come in?”
Oh, for fuck sake. The most obvious and open invitation to have sex. What on earth happened to no casual hook-ups? No sex with men you barely known? All it took was to meet a handsome, charming and charismatic boy with the prettiest, darkest eyes that had the capacity to tie you in place and suck out all of your common sense just like that. You were a traitor, he was not yours to have. But you wanted him, so, so bad. To the point of losing sanity. And it was a petrifying feeling.
“I don’t want to interrupt your night any further” he simply stated.
You begun to conclude that the question was very much improper and it was the moment when he cuts you short with rejection. But you spotted a familiar daring smirk on his face and you blushed furiously. Fucker.
You realized he was still holding your hand.
“Oh, but please do” a glint in his eyes at your declaration, barely noticeable, but you saw it.
It was midnight, your steps audible while you strode through the corridors of the apartment building. You started to search for your keys. Nervousness kicking in, because you were not alone and you had no fucking idea how do one play out this situation. What do you do with a boy once you invite him into your house in the middle of the night? You offer him a tea? Drop your dress to the floor as soon as you cross the threshold? And to add to that, you haven’t had sex for almost a year now. You felt skittish as a deer, not like a confident and seductive woman he most likely surrounded himself with.
“Do you want something to drink?” was the first thing that left your mouth after you entered inside.
So the tea option it is. You stood in place for a minute, waiting for his answer or any reaction, but the look on his face while he scanned your whole body, up and down, scared you off, and you quickly stormed off in the direction of the kitchen. Coward. Why were you wasting his time?
He followed you, you could hear. Seemed you did not care anymore for his answer, you just put the kettle on. Trying to keep busy. When you turned around quickly, with two cups in your hands, you unexpectedly collided with his chest, you did not hear him sneak this close. Gasping, you almost dropped the porcelain. He was even taller now after you took off your shoes.
“Have you ever done this before?” he murmured lowly and it took you by surprise how his voice changed and dropped few octaves lower as he spoke now.
“Done what?” you asked timidly.
He reached with his hands to carefully took the cups from your own, placing them on the counter next to you. He did not want the tea, you guessed.
“Invited a man you only met couple of hours ago to your home” his gaze soft but purposeful when he looked down at you.
“No” you answered honestly, wondering how he found it.
He smiled at you then, something in form of delight flashing through his expression. Oh, he liked that answer. Weren’t you a sweet affair? He’s got you where he wanted.
“Then why’d you do it?”
Should you be honest?
“I don’t know” you frowned lightly. What a great fucking answer “Why’d you come?” you asked, still standing close, revelling in his scent that surrounded you, there was something else except the cologne he was wearing “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else now?” you risked it with a shaky breath.
“Were do you think I should be?” he was challenging you.
A moment of silence.
“With Rose” something clutched your insides “She’s more to your taste”
He smirked at you then.
“What’s my taste, y/n?”
It was your time to act amused, as you snickered and looked to your side to hide the bewilderment you were feeling. He was not having it, taking your jaw in his fingers to make you look back at him.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Yes, very much so. Because I’m under the impression that you’ve made some presumptions about me”
You tried to shy from the intensity of his eyes. You looked at his lips, bad decision.
“So?”
You grew annoyed, he was poking you. Pushing you to prove your words.
“Gorgeous face, stunning, light hair, model, long legs, sweet and obedient” you voiced in one breath.
He was drinking in your words, acting captivated.
“Do you think you lack something?” he stepped closer, one of his hands rested on the counter next to you, the one he used to hold your jaw, now travelled lower to your neck, he was gentle, a simple touch. You became aware of the contact of the material of his pants against your inner thigh.
His question amused you.
“Definitely not obedient” you answered softly.
He breathed out a chuckle.
“Definitely not” he nodded with amusement that never left his face “Well, she wasn’t very smart about it, was she?” his voice quieter now, almost whispering “Bringing a girl with her, with a lovely, kind smile, big, sparkling and mysterious eyes, delicate, not greedy touch. Smart, intelligent and elegant, wearing a pretty little black dress that got me staring at her heavenly legs for the whole night. Acting, like she was not staring back at all” he carefully articulated each word, bringing you into a breathless state “And the way she moves while she dances? Sinful”
His thumb now stroking your delicately parted lips, his eyes following the act.
“Are you saying that I seduced you?” you managed to utter. Your voice shaky due to the amount of tension between you, growing thicker with every second.
“Hmm. I believe you did. You’re turning me weak and desperate”
Oh, he was good, he was so fucking good. Death to the morality, decency and common sense. You were more than willing to let him have what he wanted.
“God, you are good at this, aren’t you?” you breathed, staring into his dangerous eyes, feeling like the world around you decreases and anchors in his irises.
And the next thing was very much unexpected, because he leaned in and delicately kissed you on the mouth. Not in a simple and innocent way, not a little peck, soft yet so intimate and erotic that it made you dizzy.
“There’s many more things I’m good at” he whispered against your lips before kissing you again “Let me show you” another kiss.
Oh, oh God. You could feel your legs shake already. Your blood pulsing in your veins. There was wetness gathering in your underwear. Words, he was using words, and you ended up in a state where there appeared a thin line, easily to break for you to fall apart. Too little air to breathe. Too little of him.
“I can make you feel so good” he breathed before kissing you again. This time you could not stop it, a little moan leaving your chest, meating with his lips.
It was like a spur, he stepped forward, pushing you to turn and lean against the kitchen counter. His hands on the both sided behind you. Trapped. Under him, under his intense gaze, his lust. He pushed his mouth on yours, this time the kiss more urgent, lasting, passionate. You reached with your hands to his neck to keep him there, revelling in the softness yet firmness of his lips. His leg sneaking between your legs, you moved against it. Another of your moans kissed away, you were fucking close to peak. Just few more thrusts, you could feel it. A dirtier kiss, his tongue sticking out to swiftly lick and catch your own. You were breathless and dazed. The attraction, the want, the need, everything you felt right now was unfamiliar. An experience so powerful and rousing, you were afraid it could make you go mad. Few more pushes, it felt other-worldly. But he stopped, leaning back, putting his hand on your hip to prevent your movement. You whined in protest, he just smirked.
“I want to kiss you” he declared.
“Then kiss me” your brain fogged, you foolishly tried to lean into him.
He meant something else, you realized after a minute.
“Not there, darling” as he slowly kneeled in front of you.
You swallowed, observing him in this whole new position. Below you, on his knees, the look on his face menacing.
“May I?” he asked, placing his hands under your short dress.
You nodded, and it was enough for him. He reached higher, taking the strings of the thongs you were wearing between his fingers, gently and slowly drawing them down your legs. All this time his eyes were on you. You adored his eyes and the way he looked at you, yes. He hiked up your left leg to put it on his shoulder, with no further delay he pushed the folds of your dress higher. You cried out at the first simple contact. It was madness. You tried holding yourself straight by keeping your hands on the counter behind you, but he pushed his tongue deep inside you and you jumped, one of your hands reached for his head, feeling his hair for the first time. Few more moments, few quick and feverish breaths and you started whining. You were loud. Not obnoxiously loud, just vocal. You knew you wouldn’t last long, grinding on his mouth a little sheepishly, wetness now trailing down your thigh. The sight of him standing up after he was finished, with his chin glistening, using his forearm to wipe it clean was exquisite. You were never familiar with orgasms this quick and powerful. You almost slipped but he caught you.
Now you were even more desperate. So you took him to your bedroom. Reaching with your needy hands to remove his t-shirt, taking a breath when your gaze met with his bare torso. You started to admire his built, well defined muscles, soft, beautiful, dark skin. He noticed your stare and you smiled playfully at his reaction. He was so handsome. Then he was kissing you again.
“I want this dress off” he muttered lowly and you sweetly batted your eyelashes at him before taking a step back to grant him his wish.
“And I want you on the bed” he added.
You left your stockings on, partly forgetting about them at first, then making your mind about leaving them to add to your seductive appearance. He seemed to approve it, as you could conclude from the way he was observing the whole act of you gently sitting down on the bed, putting your legs up elegantly, then laying down to lewdly part them for his eyes to see everything. You could notice him suck in a breath. You were truly affecting him in a way you would never expect. What was it that made you so special? There were girls of sorts in this world, and he could have them all. Just the thought of it thrilled you. Now it was him that grew desperate, hurriedly tossing the belt aside, pulling the pants off.
“I thought you’d make a show out of it” you joked.
“I’m too hard for that, love”
You giggled and he was quick to join you. Once more you felt the excitement hit you strong when you had him close. So you kissed him. There was no place for playing and teasing now, you opened up widely for him, there was urge and desperation. A sharp sting when he entered you, a sure and swift move, accented by your whimper. He groaned throatily, feeling you coat him. You needed a moment, a moment for a few breaths. It’s been a while.
“Be good. Don’t wanna bust too fast” his voice breathy.
You looked him in the eyes, kissed him briefly and then pulled away, focusing on flexing the kegel muscles to hug him while buried deep inside of you. And you achieved your goal spectacularly, making him curse under his breath, a sweet frown on his face.
“Oh, you mean don’t do that?” in a soft and innocent voice.
He moved.
“You’re sweet” rough thrust.
“Ah!” you cried, not being prepared to be so sensitive and responsive at this point.
“Sweet girl, wanna be smart with me” thrust.
His words messier now, less coherent. You were so full, already grasping at his shoulders, you legs locking him in, your belly tensing, seeking pleasure yet still trying to accustom to the prominent feeling radiating from between your legs.
“Tell me how you want it” he whispered against your parted lips.
“Gentle”
“Oh, I think you like it opposite” another sharp snap of his hips.
Another whine filling the room. You loved it.
“Come on, kiss me” he asked.
Never before you have experienced this much talking during sex, your partners mostly fixated on the part that brought them the awaited release. This was new, exciting to you, adding to every other strong sensation you felt at this very moment.
You opened your mouth for him to ravish you further, his tongue still precise when he kissed you, while you started to turn sloppy. He sped his movements up, your senses now only focused on it. Too dazed and intoxicated you could not find any strength to kiss him back anymore, letting him take control over everything, sighing little moans into his mouth. You writhed under him after you heard him moan into your ear. You clenched around him, now uncontrollably, dangerously close to fall apart.
“Oh no baby, not yet” he murmured sneaking an arm around your middle, pulling you up with him.
You sighed, your hair falling in messy waves on your back, shoulders and face, you did not care about fixing them. Now you were seated on top of him, almost worn out already, placing your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself straight. You opened your heavy lids to notice him watching you attentively. Hooded eyes, lips parted, a little bit of sweat on his temple, you were mesmerized. Putting one of his hands behind him, he reached with the other to wrap it around your middle, however you had other ideas. He gave you the perfect opportunity to take control. You wanted to bound him to you and it was possible through a very simple feminine spell – to put him down and strip him from all the power he believed he possessed.
“Lay down on your back” you murmured gingerly, placing your palm on his chest. Like a plea, he enjoyed your softness and delicacy. You were about to give him more taste of that. What happens if he can’t be in charge?
He did as you said and the lovely sight before your eyes was enlivening. A powerful shot of rapture awoke more confidence in you. His hands reached up to grasp your hips but you snapped them away.
“Don’t” you warned.
His chuckle was almost dark.
“You want to be in control, huh?”
“Shut up”
“Yeah, go on, love. I wanna see you movin” he was amused.
You were going to wipe that smirk off his face. The first roll of your hips slow and careful, simple, the next one more purposeful. You smiled playfully before circling your hips on your way back. Slow, tantalizingly slow, back and forward, back and forward. You were watching him, observing how his face changed when you sped up only to slow down again. A groan and a delicate pout appearing on his face immediately. His hands resting on your thighs, you were careful. Innocent eyes, a soft moan leaving his lips, a honeyed sound. You even caught his belly tensing. Oh, you got him.
“Do you like that?” you asked sweetly “Do you like how I’m fucking you, Jude? Are you close?”
No words from him, he just groaned in frustration trying to reach for your hips. You slapped them away again. Lowering your body you thought about kissing him. His mouth turning sloppier now, the contact was all tongue and saliva. He pushed his hips up into you, making you moan.
“That’s enough” he rasped as you leaned back. He grabbed your hips roughly and you prepared yourself for the upcoming ferocity.
A giggle died in your throat as he fucked up into you, holding you strong, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin.
It was your name he called. Yet it was too late and you were too tired to realize what you have done.
-
special tag @madridfangirl
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rafesangelita · 19 hours ago
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♡ deciding to take a ride on the ‘tunnel of love’ roller coaster at the annual valentine’s day fair, rafe happens to catch you before it starts, conveniently locking himself in next to you. annoyed, you tell yourself you’ll be out and away from the man once the ride is over but (un)luckily for you, it just so happens to break down, leaving you two stuck together until it’s fixed..
warnings: one sided enemies to lovers (reader is the one who can’t stand rafe lol), forced proximity, teasing, flirty banter, slight angst (just a teeny tiny bit, it’s literally almost nonexistent), light fluff
a/n: now presenting… ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE’ 🤍 my town just so happens to be having a valentine’s day fair.. maybe (hopefully) i’ll go!
link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི。- ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
wc: 1.4k
[7:57 PM] bestie ♡: it looks like kelce is going to take me out for v-day after all!! don’t wait for me, i’ll catch up soon, promise!
you had just bought an extra large funnel cake for you and your best friend to share when you read her text, your sugary sweet smile faltering as you took a seat at a nearby bench. “more for me, i guess..” you sighed, feeling a little bit silly at the fact that you sat here by yourself when everyone who passed you by was either in a group setting or hand in hand with someone who was most likely their significant other.
you picked at the fried goodness, not really feeling as festive as you were just two minutes ago. “yo, y/n!” you recognized the voice before you even looked up, your eyes immediately rolling as none other than rafe ‘insufferable daddy’s money’ cameron made his way over to you. ‘please let this be quick..’ you whispered under your breath, not sparing the man a single glance as he plopped down ridiculously close to you.
“what do you want, rafe?” he smiled when he heard his name roll off of your tongue, his muscular arm draping across your shoulders as his mouth dropped next to your ear. “can you at least act like you could tolerate me?” you scoffed, shrugging him off. “no, i can’t,” you finally looked at him, “because even that is too difficult to do.” he swallowed thickly, feeling slightly defeated before he went for the funnel cake that sat in your lap.
“i’m really not that bad, i’ll make you realize that soon.” rafe was also too confident and cocky for your liking— more reasons you could add to your seemingly never ending list as to why you think you two would never work out.
“i highly doubt that.” rafe was licking powdered sugar off of his fingers when you met his gaze again, your eyes flickering down to his tongue. the one thing that you couldn’t put on your list was that he wasn’t hot. anyone with eyes can tell you that rafe was insanely attractive, but of course, you’d never admit that to him out loud.. or so you thought. “you’re staring.” he smiled when he saw that your eyes stayed trained on his mouth, a smug expression taking over his features.
you blinked away, deciding you had enough chit-chat for one night. “in your dreams, ‘cameron.” rafe watched you get up from your seat, gladly taking the funnel cake you basically shoved into his hands. “why, thank you.” he took another piece, popping it into his mouth. you flashed him a fake smile before adjusting the strap of your crossbody purse. “i’ll see you around!” he called out, waving obnoxiously in your direction. “no you won’t!” you whispered to yourself, deciding to explore the fair a bit more.
little did you know conversation between you and rafe was far from over.
you walked around the fair grounds for almost fifteen more minutes before you had decided you were better off at home eating some greasy takeout and having a rom-com movie marathon in nothing but your comfy pj’s.
just as you were on your way to the exit, a flashing heart with the words ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE.. find your lover inside!’ caught your attention. deciding you’d at least inquire about it, you walked up to the ride operator and asked away. “excuse me! hi, i was just wondering what does the whole ‘find your lover inside!’ thing mean?” the woman lit up as if she had been dying to answer this question.
“so basically there’s another roller coaster coming from the other side, and once you two meet inside, the ride will stop for two minutes before coming back out to the respective entrances.” she explained. “so it’s like speed dating?” you smiled, the idea enthralling you. “yeah, that’s exactly it!” she nodded. you weighed out your options and decided a little excitement wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“i’m suprised you don’t have a line, how much is it to get on?” you took your wallet out of your purse as she replied. “if you have a full-access wristband it’s free, but if not then it’ll be five dollars exactly.” you handed over the small bill, smiling to yourself as she let you through the metal gate. “it looks like two people can fit in here—” just as you stepped in, rafe came running from the opposite direction.
“stop the ride!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling as he bent over to catch his breath. you blinked. “it’s not even on, you drama queen.” taking a seat, you were about to pull the metal bar over your lap before he shouted again. “i’ll give you fifty bucks if you let me get on with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest, not expecting the ride operator to actually let him in. “seriously?!” you gasped when he walked through, flashing you a wink.
“sorry!” she pushed the guardrail over you and rafe until it locked in place before starting the ride. “this will all be over in two minutes.” you glared at him, trying to scoot as many centimeters away from him as you could. “that’s fine with me.” he shrugged. he leaned back in the cart, red and pink flashing lights illuminating the space in which you two rolled into slowly.
rafe kept his eyes on you, watching as you avoided his gaze. “why don’t you like me? serious question..” you sighed, finally giving him your full undivided attention. you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. “what?” you acted like you didn’t hear him the first time, wracking your brain for any kind of answer. he smiled teasingly, pointing a finger at you. “i asked you why you don’t like me and you can’t even answer me!” you waved him off, facing the other way to hide the smile on your lips.
truthfully, you didn’t really know who rafe was. like just by himself as an individual. you knew that his friends were all assholes though, including the one who your best friend was willing to drop everything for. “i hate your friends,” you started, “and you are who you keep company with, sooo..” rafe cleared his throat as the roller coaster came to a stop. the inside of the ‘love tunnel’ was lit up with baby cherubs along the walls, red hearts and fairy lights adorning the interior.
“me and my friends are very different from each other.. i think you’d be surprised.” you hummed, adjusting the pendant on your necklace. “maybe..” the other roller coaster cart strolled in from the other side, the seats empty. “i guess it’s a good thing that i tagged along, since you would’ve been all by yourself if i didn’t.”
you glanced over at him, his blue eyes standing out in the pinkish lighting. “..yeah, i guess.” rafe’s head shot up as soon as the words left your mouth. “you really think so?” he scooted closer, the action making you laugh. “don’t push it.” you warned him, in which he held his hands up defensively. “okay, okay!” rafe had this smitten look on his face as if making you smile was his life’s greatest achievement.
“so you told me why you didn’t like me, which is fair, but i want a real chance at proving you wrong. can you at least give me that?” rafe hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, the hopeful look in his eyes making your heart melt into a soft puddle of mush. “hmm..” you pretended to think, the anticipation making rafe’s leg bounce. “okay. only under one condition though..” rafe nodded frantically.
“anything.”
“tell me why you like me so much when i avoid you like the plague, and never seemingly look in your direction.. like ever.” the man next to you snorted. “you want me to go down my full list? ‘cause we’ll be sitting here all night—” just then, the ride operator’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers from inside the tunnel. “hi, i’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re having some technical difficulties and my electrician guy says it’ll be at least an hour or two before you could leave. i promise to issue a full refund once you two are off.”
you and rafe looked at each other half concerned and half amused. “..so, you were saying?”
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joannasprose · 2 months ago
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KNUCKLE VELVET
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description:
“. . .Nothing hurts like you do. Like the way you say I love you.”
Following VI’s ‘betrayal’, the heartbreak, and cruelty that rests in her heart, she begins to embark on a path of full of physical and mental depravities that threaten to kill her tenfold.
That is, until you find her again.
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read part two here!
pairings: vi x reader, caitlyn x violet
word count: 1.4k
content warnings: angst, violence, denial of feelings, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, 3 parts series.
authors note: sorry for being gone for a little while !! I did not have any motivation to write but now it’s Christmas break so I’m hopeful I’ll write a little more <3 I hope you guys enjoy this have a good holidays 🌀 also my inspirations were knuckle velvet and the carpet ep by ethel cain - hence the chapter title and wip name :P ( also cross posted on ao3!! my user is joannasprose if u wanna read it there! It’s also linked in my navigation :) )
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⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄
Her knuckles are aching—swollen and bloody from her fights. Fights that were, at first to make money for herself, yet now has turned itself into something formally depraved. Perhaps another form of self-deprecation, of hurt and of the brutality in which she finds herself subjectedto.
Everything begins to hurt—the throbbing in her head, the pain of childhood melancholy, and most recently, a rebirthed heartbreak. The memory of Caitlyn's cruelty is wedged between her ribs, along with her fingers and in the wounds that won’t heal.
So maybe that’s what it is, her reasoning for putting herself on display: for digging her nails deep into her skin as her fists meet her next unfortunate opponent.
But as she lays half awake in her bed, reminding herself that she cannot help anyone if she won’t help herself, a prolonged breath leaves her mouth.
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YOU FIND YOURSELF sat in the stands, hands in your lap as the crowd's cheers begin at a simmer and slowly shape into a boil. The hairs on your skin have created goosebumps in anticipation, waiting unnervingly as you wait for her to enter the stage.
In all honesty, you feel a bit stalkerish. You had never found yourself trying to formally talk to her—in your defense, it had been seven years since then. Since everything went wrong and since everyone had changed. Yourself included.
And perhaps, if she had truly wanted to see you again, why hadn’t she come to find you. To scrape up the pieces of a broken love and pull you in her arms again? You try desperately to pull yourself out of your thoughts as you see her, finally, stepping out of the archway and in the attire you always saw her in.
To anyone else who might not have known her as well as you did, they might have brushed her off as just another Zaunite. One who raved in the spotlight and indulged in the delights Zaun had to offer. But you knew better.
You could see it in the indents of her skin—and though you had never come too close to her, your vision along with where you sat had been enough for you to recognize her anywhere. There were rumors that she had come back; rumors of her being in acquaintance with a piltie, others speaking of the havoc she’d caused around the streets of Zaun, sometimes even Piltover.
When you had first acknowledged them, your heart ached. For her, and then for Jinx, for Ekko. And sometimes, even for yourself.
The roars of the crowd hadn’t died down, in fact, they had grown louder when her opponent had finally come on stage. He was five times bigger than Vi in size, and usually, you hadn’t wondered whether or not she would win. Vi was a skilled fighter, fast on her feet, and level headed.
But now, as you watch her bring her balled fists up to her face, her eyes shuddering, her stance becoming wobbly as she puts her left foot in front of the other—you shamefully begin to wonder if she could truly win it, with the way she looks now.
In the first round, and even half of the second, she had the high ground. Blood was split, from his face and from her knuckles. But slowly, her movements had begun to deter, the sways becoming a more prominent factor in it all. And in the split of a second, one dipped in blood and in alcohol—his fist met her face and she’d hit the ground.
You couldn’t help but bring a hand to your mouth as a gasp left your throat. She didn’t get up, not this time. But her limp body laid there, unmoving on the ground as the crowd counted. All you could do was there, all you could do was watch as someone unknown to you, lifted her off the ground, and carried her out of the ring.
For whatever reason, seeing her like this pained you more than anything. In truth, you didn’t like the fact that she was doing this to herself. Nothing good had come out of it. In your eyes, she didn’t look happy or grateful from the outcome.
Just tired and hurt.
And so there you found yourself, standing from your spot and sifting through the crowd. Some cursed at you for blocking the view as the man below gloated his victory—but you didn’t care for it. Desperate to find her.
But you stop at your tracks at your realization. Find her and say what? You think to yourself.
You’d been gone, she’d been gone. She’s moved on so what is there left to say? But you push your hurt and questions aside, resuming your hair and leaving out the doors the brawling scene.
When times had become unbearable, much like this one, you found yourself thinking of the past.
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THE NIGHT IS how it should be. Your body pressed up against hers as the wind whistles, as those grueling goosebumps come around as they always have, and as Vi speaks, “Are you even listening?” She asks, looking down to your face resting on her shoulder, a crooked smile on her lips.
“Of course I am,” you say, smiling as she rolls her eyes.
“Oh sure,” she begins, trailing off before resuming, “what was I talking about then?” An even wider smile finds itself on your face—recalling the moments prior to this one.
“Um…the intricacies of…structures?” It’s silent until a laugh pulls itself from Vi’s throat, the pearls in her gums taking their place on stage as she speaks, “seriously? Did you even try?”
You pull yourself away from her, slapping her shoulder playfully as you bite your lip, “Dude! Can you blame me? It's freezing cold out here. My skin might freeze and fall off my bones.”
Vi hums in response, turning her attention to the city—the buildings that stand oh so firmly, all beautifully made in their own ways.
The silence is evident. Apparent enough to make you anxious as you take it all in.
Giving into the silence, you speak, “Vi? What’s wrong?” You follow the path that her eyes lead to. But to no avail, all you find are scattered lights and people who look like ants compared to the both of you.
“Nothing I just…” she says, beginning to bring a hand to ear to her, a sheepish smile on her lips now as you look at her. “I just don’t want this to end,” she says and then she looks at you. With a look of endearment and love and anything you’ve found yourself dreaming of.
“Promise me you won’t change. Promise me you’ll always be with me.” A smile finds itself on your lips as you lift a hand to her cheek, watching as she closes her eyes and grabs your wrist, gently.
“I promise. I won’t change. Not now, not ever.”
You say, genuinity laced across your lips.
Because it was true. It was, you’d truly meant it.
———
It hadn’t been that hard to find her.
A turn down an alleyway and you saw her.
Alone and slumped against the bottom of the stairs. For a long moment, you just stared. Unsure of how to approach her and what to do. Even now, would she have remembered you? Even after all those years, thinking of her and wondering where she could have ended up, had she thought of you?
Or were you just simply another thing abandoned and forgotten.
Undermining that fact, you stalk towards her anyways, gently and with precaution.
Finally, as you’ve set closed, watching her heaving on the sets of stairs, you see her for what she is now: a raw, gaping wound.
Hesitantly, you lift your hand to her shoulder, desperately wanting to push her into a sitting position. But the moment your hand falls close to her skin, she reaches out her own to grab your wrist. Not gentle like it used to be, but harsh.
A startled breath leaves your throat, wanting to pull away but she still holds on to you.
Her vision is squirming, her eyes are looking in every direction before befalling you.
Before her hand loosens and is gentle once again, like you’ve always known.
But she’s let go of you now as she speaks, “y/n?”
to be continued. . .
⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄
KNUCKLE VELVET
CHAPTER ONE: MISUSE OH
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souliebird · 10 months ago
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[[and then I met you || ch. 19]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
chapter masterlist
Words: 3.6k
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banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
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Frank, admittedly, isn’t as fit as he used to be. 
Running through the desert, carrying all his gear, used to be an everyday thing he could do no problem, but now, running through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he finds his breathing to be a bit labored. 
Then again, that might be because he’s pissed off. He, Jones, and Red were in the middle of setting up for a night of surveillance, something Red insisted they do, when the costumed idiot took off into the night without a word.
Normally, Red will give them the damn courtesy of letting them know before he disappears to protect his flock, so him just starting to bolt had Frank and Jones scooping up their shit and following. 
One thing Frank’s learned while working with Matt Murdock is to trust the bastard when it comes to his senses - when he says they need to clear out, there is usually a damn good reason to start running. But he has always given a reason or a head’s up - taking off like this must mean something is going down.
Jones gave up trying to keep pace a few blocks back, but Frank is determined to find out what the hell is going on. Red has the advantage of not hauling an additional fifty pounds of gear, and he has taken to parkouring over the roofs, so has gotten about a block and a half ahead. 
Frank can keep him in his sights, at least. He’s making a bee-line right towards Chelsea and that’s causing a pit to start to grow in the Marine’s stomach. Not many things override Red’s deep seeded commitment to his city and only one of those things resides outside Hell’s Kitchen. 
He adjusts his grip on his bag and forces his legs to move faster.  
The buildings around him shift from businesses to residential and about two blocks into the change, Frank knows what set the Devil off. 
His little girl is in the middle of the sidewalk, crying hysterically as her mother struggles on the ground against some fat fuck in a business suit. Frank only sees the attacker for a brief second before fury incarnate grabs him by his thick neck and slams him into the ground by Mom’s feet. The sound of a skull being cracked rings clear before it's covered by angry roars and the crunch and squelch of someone’s face being pounded in. 
By the Grace of all that is Holy, Red’s baby seems to not care her dad is about to kill a guy and scurries to her Mommy now that she is free. Frank kicks his ass into gear to get there before she can be traumatized anymore. 
He doesn’t know if the little girl recognizes him or not, but she doesn’t fight it when Frank picks her up. She clings to him desperately, burying her face against his neck and just sobbing. Instincts he forgot he had kick in and Frank bundles Minnie up in his duster, rocking her and trying to soothe her the best he can.
“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it's okay, it's okay. I gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay, I gotcha.”
Frank cups the back of her head, careful to not tangle his fingers up in her curls and turns her away from her bloody mother. He needs to check on you, to make sure your wounds are something he can handle, and they don’t need to take you to the hospital, but he can’t do that with a crying toddler in his arms. 
“He hurt my Mommy!” The baby wails and his heart just about breaks. He wants so badly to join Red in stomping the piece of shit’s head into the pavement for endangering such a precious child, but he knows he can’t. She can’t witness any more than she already has. 
As often as Frank takes digs at Murdock for being an altar boy, he can’t let Red’s daughter see him lose control and step over the line he swore to never cross. He’d never forgive himself for causing that trauma for her. So, he hugs the little girl closer, kisses the top of her head, then grunts, “Red!”
Murdock stills mid-punch, his bloody fist raised and ready to continue his punishment. He looks feral - he is snarling, and gore has splashed up onto his face. He is shaking with rage and for a brief moment, Frank can see why he claims to have the Devil in him. Then, just as his little girl cries for her Mom again, control returns to him. Red tilts his head in a way Frank knows he heard something, then he pushes himself up into standing. 
Red rips his gloves off, throwing them to the ground, before taking the few steps to clear the gap between him and Frank. He barely starts to rasp out his daughter’s name before she’s turning in Frank’s arms and trying to throw herself to him, sobbing.
“DADDY!”
The noise Red makes is not at all human as he crushes his baby girl to his chest. A new round of loud tears start and Frank knows he has to work quickly before they start attracting attention. 
He pulls his duster off and throws it around Red’s shoulders, trying to hide his garish costume. Murdock seems to realize what he’s doing - he curls into it while ducking his horn-head and moving towards the shadows as he comforts his daughter. Frank can’t hear what he’s saying - his voice is low and the crying covers it - but honestly he doesn’t care.
He turns his attention back to your limp body on the ground, dropping down and letting his knowledge of field medicine take over.
Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but a quick assessment of the wound tells him it looks worse than it really is. You’ve got a pretty good gash, but it is shallow, and he doesn’t feel any bone breakage under it or swelling. You’ll need a few stitches, and a hell of a lot of ibuprofen, but you won’t need a hospital. You probably passed out from a combination of pain and exhaustion from an adrenaline rush. 
Still, Frank checks your neck before deciding to move you, just to make sure it's safe. 
As he starts to press his fingers along your spine, Jones finally makes her appearance, jogging up to the scene. 
“What the fuck?”
Frank barely looks up as he growls out his reply, focusing on his work while formulating a plan in his head, “It’s his kid.”
“Oh shit,” she replies, then after a beat, “Is he dead?”
Frank barely looks over to the beaten man in question - his chest is still rising and falling so that’s good enough for him. “Nah, not yet. Call it in - then meet us up in her apartment.” 
He rattles off the address and apartment number as he scoops you up into a fireman’s carry. He’s glad he doesn’t have far to go, because your weight, plus his gear, isn’t doing any favors to his back. As he gets you situated, Jones steps over to the attacker and nudges him in the side with her boot. His face isn’t recognizable as human, but that isn’t what she comments on. 
“What is that smell? Did he shit himself?”
“Fuck if I know, just call it in,” Frank grunts as he begins to trudge towards the right building. “Red, let's go!”
He knows he doesn’t have to explain the plan to Murdock - fucker heard him the first time. Red falls in line and by some miracle, his little girl’s crying has tampered down. She’s still crying - Frank would be more concerned if she wasn’t - but she’s tucked herself close to her Dad and seems to be just more upset than actively terrified. Frank’s got no idea what Murdock could have possibly done to soothe her, but he gives him props for doing it so damn fast. 
He can hear Jones calling for an ambulance as they enter into your building, and once in the lobby, Frank wastes no time barking another order, “Take off your helmet.” 
That earns him a glare, or what counts as a glare from the Devil, and Murdock uses one hand to pull his cowl off and stuffs it between his chest and his daughter before starting for the stairs. Frank is right at his heel and being so close means he can finally hear what Red is repeating to his girl. 
“Just listen to her heart, baby, everything’s okay. You know that sound. Just listen to her heart.”
Frank has a good guess what that means - his theory about passing out from exhaustion and pain is probably correct. If your heart isn’t in crazy panic ‘I’m dying’ mode, you should be fine after a good night’s rest. 
The only problem they encounter in the climb up to your apartment is your door. They have to do a weird song-and-dance of Frank turning so Red can get into your purse to get keys while also making sure Minnie can’t see your face. He hasn’t gotten the chance to clean you up in any way and he’s not going to let any little girl see her mom like that if he can help it. 
Once they are inside the apartment, Frank goes right to the couch to lay you out. As he does, he says over his shoulder, “I’m gonna call Curt.” 
Just because you don’t need a hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a medical professional. Frank knows what he is doing, but he does not trust himself to stitch up your face. Someone with delicate hands needs to do that, and the best person he knows for that is Curt. 
Murdock, however, disagrees. 
“Call Claire,” he counters firmly. 
Frank knows better than to argue - this is Murdock’s family and Frank ain’t got a dog in this fight. So, once you are down, and his gear is dropped, he fishes out his phone to call the feisty nurse. As he does, Red starts back towards what Frank assumes is the bedroom, talking in a sweet tone to his little girl, “It's okay, Frank’s gonna clean Mommy up, then we can go see her. She’s just got a scrape, everything’s okay.”
Frank focuses on his task at hand - as the line rings, he raids the kitchen for washcloths, bowls, and paper towels. He’s on his way back to the couch when Claire finally answers.
“What did he do this time?”
A little smile forms on his lips at her bluntness - he’s always liked Claire and her no-nonsense attitude. 
“Ain’t him. His girl got mugged, hit her head pretty good,” he explains, as he dips a washcloth into the water to start on cleaning you up. The cut on your forehead is still bleeding, but only a little by this point. He’ll have to retrace their steps to wipe away any blood droplets, so they don't leave a trail right to your door.
“So, take her to the ER.”
He hums at the response, then adds the crucial element, “His little girl saw it all.”
The line is silent for a good five seconds before Claire is swearing, “I’m on my way. How bad are we talking?”
He feels a little for the nurse at the moment - she’s always having to deal with Red broken and battered and is probably thinking she’s going to have to do some sort of impromptu surgery. He gives a rundown on your injuries, then adds, “Your stitches are nicer than mine.” 
“Exactly what a lady wants to hear. How’s the kid?” 
“Physically ok, but probably going to have nightmares for a while,” is his honest reply. There wouldn’t be an attacker left to pick up in an ambulance if Minnie had gotten hurt - he would have made sure of that no matter what Red would have said.
Claire groans in response, “I don’t know anything about child psychology, Frank.” 
“No one’s expecting you to.”
The nurse may be a miracle worker in the eyes of Red’s little vigilante group, but no one in this world is qualified to deal with all their mental problems.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. You’re lucky I’m on this side of town already.” 
Claire hangs up on him and Franks stuffs his phone back into his pocket. He’ll need to call Mirco later to set up a camera on your building, something similar to what he’s got for Karen, and arrange for some background checks on the neighbors. The area seems to be working class just trying to get by, but isn’t that just all of the city now? Even if one drunk-off-his-ass guy just made some stupid decision, it put you and the kid in danger and that is a no-go in Frank’s book. As much Red will huff and puff and growl, his family falls under Frank’s sphere of protection and that isn’t something Frank skimps on. 
So, a full security upgrade is in your near future. 
But that is something he’ll figure out the details for later on. Right now, he puts his full attention in cleaning you up. 
The worst of it is the cut on your forehead. He folds a washcloth and sets it on the wound to help the remaining bleeding stop, then moves onto your cheeks. You’ve got some gravel stuck there, but he doesn’t see any glass or metal. There’s some bruising, but he doesn’t think it will be anything to fuss about - it will fade away within a day or so. He’s seen worse coloring on a hickey. The bastard who attacked you didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, or he was too sloshed out of his mind to be coordinated.
 Overall, you are just pretty banged up. 
But nonetheless, Frank takes care to make sure it just looks like you are resting, even putting the throw blanket left on the couch over you to hide the grime stains on your clothes. 
Red and his creepy bat ears must be listening, because as soon as he goes to dump the bloody cleaning water, he’s coming out of the bedroom with Minnie. She’s still in his arms, clinging to his neck like a koala, but her tears have stopped. She’s still sniffling, though.
Frank hangs back as the little girl is brought to her Mommy and his heart damn near breaks again when she starts talking. 
“She’s just sleeping?” 
“She’s just sleeping,” Red confirms. He carefully kneels down beside you and makes slow, exaggerated movements as he puts his hand over your heart. “You can feel, too. Just sleeping.”
He watches as the tiny little girl untangles herself from her father and stretches to put her hand next to his. She scrunches up her nose and gets a look Frank has seen a million times on Red. 
“Boom. Boom. Boom.”
“Exactly, boom. Boom. boom. The same heart-noises Mommy makes when she sleeps.” 
They stay like that for a few seconds before little hands go up to your face and Minnie is examining your cuts.
“He hurt Mommy,” she says so softly that Frank wants to stomp back downstairs and unload his Glock into the asshole. “She has ouchies.” She turns so quickly in Red’s arm that Frank sees him jump just a little - probably still on high alert - and she slaps both her hands on his cheeks, “You have to kissy it better.”
Her voice is so serious and demanding, he’s surprised Red doesn’t instantly comply. Instead, he kisses his little one’s forehead. 
“A doctor is going to come and make sure all her ouchies are taken care of. Then we can kiss it better.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Her curls bounce as the little girl whips around to address Frank, ordering in the same voice, “You have to kissy it better, too.”
He damn well knows better than to argue with a three year old girl - Lisa could put him in his place like no one's business - so Frank simply nods with a, “Yes, ma’am.” Red doesn't look thrilled at the agreement, but he's not the one who's opinion Frank cares about.
Her brown eyes sus him out, narrowing a fraction before he passes whatever criteria she has and Minnie turns back to her mother and father. “When is she gonna wake up?”
“She'll wake up when she's done resting,” Murdock gently advises. “She needs lots of rest right now.” 
Frank knows what question is coming before it is even asked. It is the universal toddler question. 
“Why?”
Red, it seems, needs to spend more time with his kid because he looks completely baffled by the question. He repeats the word, which just gets parroted back at him, and Frank can practically hear Lisa and Frankie chanting along with her. 
Why? 
Why? 
Why?
Why would you need lots of rest in a way a terrified toddler would get it? There's a slight hint of panic in Red’s sightless eyes as he fights to find an answer and Frank takes pity on him. 
He steps forward and asks the little girl, “Have you ever played really hard then needed a nap after?”
Attention swings back to him but this time he is prepared for it. Minnie considers his question, then nods, and Frank gives her a soft, friendly smile. “Same thing, sweetheart. Your Mommy’s body worked really hard and now she needs a nap.” 
“She needs a nap,” the baby replies and then, to his amusement, proceeds to stuff her fingers into her mouth and suck on them. He's got no idea what that means, but Red’s shoulders relax a fraction, so he assumes it's a good thing. 
He wonders if she's starting to get tired now that the action is over. He can't imagine why they were out in the first place, but he has to guess it was to get something from the store. That is his experience with bringing a baby in their pajamas out at night - there was something needed that couldn't wait until morning. That would also explain the black bag in your purse.
He looks to Red and his girl - Murdock has sat himself on the floor beside the couch, facing you, and Minnie is tucked in his lap, sucking her fingers still. Both of their focus seems to be on you. So, Frank lets curiosity get the better of him and he goes to snoop. 
There’s a bottle of Pedialyte nestled inside the bag, and by the tiny bit missing, he has a feeling he knows who it is for. He looks from it, over to the sweet child sitting in Red’s lap, and decides she probably still needs it if her mom went out in the middle of the night for it. So, he turns his snooping to the kitchen and opens and closes cabinets until he finds the one holding sippy cups. All of them have Braille labels on them and he briefly wonders what each says before grabbing one with Big Bird on it. He gives it a good rinse before filling it up halfway with the blue liquid.
He removes his tactical vest before he heads back to the living room. He thinks of it more of a sign for Red than Minnie. The little girl might be scared of the skull art, but he hopes it will help Murdock relax. He’s putting on a good face for his daughter, but Frank can see the tension in his jaw and how on edge and angry he must be, and he can’t be blamed. He knows how emotional Red can get and he’s surprised he’s managing to keep it together - so subtly letting him know ‘there’s no danger here’ and Frank isn’t a threat to his family might just get him to stop grinding his teeth. 
He approaches slowly and somewhat loudly, while holding out the sippy cup, “Here you go, sweetie.”
Minnie blinks up at him with those wide brown eyes and he can see the exhaustion starting to creep in - getting a bottle might just knock her out. He has to lean down so she can take it, but as soon as she does, her hand drops from her mouth and she politely mumbles, “Thank you.” 
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
“What is it?” Murdock questions, nose twitching to try to figure out the smell. Frank doubts he’s familiar with the drink, but soon he’ll have it memorized.
“Blue Pedi-lyte,” the baby grumbles before the spout goes right into her mouth and she starts to nurse it. Almost instantly she starts leaning back against Red’s chest and Frank knows right away she’ll be asleep within minutes. 
He checks his phone as he goes to take a seat at the kitchen table. Claire should be here any minute and it's a toss up if Jones comes up or not. He’ll wait until everything is all settled to head out - he does want to make sure you are okay and he’s not going to leave Claire alone with an upset kid and her Dad-devil. 
Frank brings up his texts to Karen to start typing out that the op is a bust, when Murdock’s quiet voice interrupts his train of thought.
“Thank you, Frank.”
“Nothing to thank me for, Red. It’s your family. You don’t gotta explain that to me.”
“Still, thank you, Frank. I mean it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Murdock.”
---
a/n: frank has entered the chat and assumed Alpha Dad role. his family now.
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