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#loosely based off the scene from the movie
mlbhorrormagic · 1 year
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Rose’s actual age
*causally drops this on your laps*
So! I don’t know if I did mention this before but Rose is hella lot older in this AU.
Same thing with Juleka. (That’s kinda a given because she’s a vampire.)
But! There’s quite a age gap between Juleka and Rose.
I actually did the math on my notes
Rose is physically looking like 16~18 years old but her actual age is 213~215 years old.
I dunno about Rose’s official birthday date but in this AU, her birthday would be on March 20, 1804.
So…you now know about her actual age.
As for Juleka? She is physically looking like 17~19 years old but her actual age probably would be 50~53 years old.
Also, we might get some background information about Rose’s parents- at least about one of parents and their job.
And the whole scene are loosely based by the scene where Milo learns about Kida’s actual age from ‘Atlantis: The Lost Empire’ movie. (Some elements are changed.)
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bluemas321 · 8 months
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||Mirror⬩Haunted||
“Ghosts never speak 'till spoken to.” – Richard Barham
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rreids · 3 months
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PRACTICE RUN • S. REID X READER
fluff, based on a scene at the end of 1 x 04 , going on a platonic date with spencer (for him to know what it's like) that becomes very real, kissing, silly little facts (again, very loosely verified, read everything i say ever with a grain of salt), ~1.3k
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“Spence?” You ask, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:30, everyone had left the BAU around 8 after finishing up paperwork on the latest case. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, exactly,” Spencer mumbles. “You know how I went to that baseball game with JJ? Last week?”
”Yeah. You have fun?”
”Yeah. I mean, I guess.” He sighs. “I think Gideon meant for me to ask her out like a date,”
”Did you want it to be a date?” You sit up slowly, tugging your blanket over your knees and putting your phone on speaker so you can rest your cheek on your propped legs.
”No.” He pauses. “But I want to know how to ask someone out. In case I ever want to in the future.”
”Well,” you stretch and yawn a little. “Do you want me to explain it?”
”Would you?” You can perfectly imagine the way his face lights up from the way his voice pitches up alone.
”Of course, Spence,” you smile. “The best thing to do is make your intentions clear. Either have established that you like them, or make it clear when you ask. Try to ask them to do something, just the two of you, that is a shared interest between you two.”
He hums.
”For example, you like film viewings and stuff, right?” He mumbles a soft agreement. “So, it could be something like ‘Hey, I got tickets for this movie on — and then whatever day —, I was thinking the two of us could go. I’d like to see it with you.’”
”That easy?”
”That easy. Sometimes I like to say ‘it’s a date,’ when they agree, just to make sure they’re clear on my intentions. Never a bad idea to be explicit in your communication.”
”You go on a lot?” He asks curiously. “Of dates, I mean. You said that’s something you like to say,”
”Not recently, but in college,” you smile softly. “Not everyone was 16 when they were in higher education,”
Spencer chuckles. “You’re right. Are they any… fun?”
”You don’t know?”
”No one ever asked me out. Or maybe they did. I’m not good at that type of stuff. What do people even do on dates?”
”Talk,” you chuckle. “Enjoy one another’s company. Really, it’s just any old hangout with different emotions.”
Spencer sighs, voice petulant when he speaks again. “Emotions are confusing,”
”I have an idea,”
“What is it?”
”How about I take you on a practice run date? So you know what it’s like.”
”Isn’t that weird?”
”If you make it weird,” you tease. “It’s up to you. We’ll treat it like a date but go as friends, just so you can get used to that type of environment and its expectations,”
Spencer clicks his tongue, and you picture him pursing his lips in contemplation. “You promise I won’t feel weird?”
”I can’t control your emotions, Spence, but I promise to treat you like normal.”
He’s silent for a bit. “Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. “I’ll plan everything. Just tell me if you change your mind,”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
When you and Spencer finally have time, it’s when you’re off work for a day after a rough week in Montana. He’s dressed pretty normally, but he took more time than normal to try to tame his hair, and he’s fidgeting with the cuffed sleeves of his undershirt as you walk up.
“Spencer,” you call and he looks up, smiling nervously. “You ready?”
“What exactly should I be ready for?”
“I decided we should go to an aquarium. That okay?”
“We have a shared interest in fish?” He asks, incredulous, recalling you saying a date had to be something both parties liked. “It’s fish.”
“The information,” you poke his side. “You like learning. It’s cool, I promise. And you can even point at the ugly fish and say they look like me.”
Spencer tilts his head. “Why would I do that? You’re not ugly.”
You smile, unsure of how to respond. “Come on.”
He listens, and it’s a little awkward, him silent and studying you. There’s so much tension that you’re unexpectedly and uncharacteristically a little quiet, looking at the way the cyan lights in the tanks flicker and reflect in his eyes, making them into inky pools of brown, black, and bluesin the low lighting.
You realize he looks pretty… cute.
“Spencer,” you whisper, snapping him from his laser focus on a sign about knobbed whelks. “You’re meant to talk to me.”
“Sorry,” he whispers back. “I just—”
“Think they’re cool?” You ask lightly.
“Yeah.”
“You want to go see the otters?” You question, grabbing his hand in yours. “They hold hands like this when they’re asleep, so they don’t drift apart and lose each other.”
He stares down at your hand, mouth dropped a little as you dragged him. “Is that why you’re holding mine? So I don’t get lost or separated from you.”
“Yeah.” You grin at him and he smiles back, letting you pull him along.
The otters are cute, and he’s fascinated by them. “I never knew they were so vicious…” he trails off as he reads the sign, looking at one with big round eyes that stares at him through the glass.
“Maybe we can profile our next unsub as an otter.”
Spencer snorts. “Yeah, whenever we get a killer who throws their victims on rocks repeatedly. That’d be a signature.”
You smile and look at his profile in the glowing light.
“What?” He asks, shying from the intensity of your gaze.
“People normally look at the person they’re on a date — fake… date — with.” 
“Do they always look this intently at them?”
“Sometimes,” you fix his collar where it’s flopped over a little. “When they want to kiss them,”
You trail your fingers from his collar over his neck briefly before dropping your hand, and you feel his pulse racing.
“Do you kiss people on fake dates? Or practice dates?”
“Most people don’t go on those, Spence. But normally, you ask if you can kiss the person — through body language or verbally, and kiss them.”
Spencer falls quiet, following you towards the sharks slowly before catching your wrist in a dim part of the corridor, and you can barely make out the way his tongue darts over his lower lip.
“How does that body language look? So I can identify it,”
Your heart races, and you step closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Your eyes partially close just from the anticipation. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, meet his gaze before lowering it to his lips and dragging it back on, curling your fingers on his collar. “Like this.”
Spencer swallows, and moves his hands shakily to your waist.
He waits for you to look at him, and then copies you, eyes falling to your mouth before sliding back up your face.
You kiss him and he startles a little, stiffening under you before sighing and awkwardly trying to match you.
His eyes shut instinctively and remain like that even as you pull back, cheeks so red you can see it despite the lack of light.
“I don’t know… how… to kiss.” Spencer mumbles. “I’ve read a lot, but you’d be surprised how little there is other than facts that roughly 60% of couples tilt their heads to the right to kiss, and that many recipients of kisses will tilt to the right if the person kissing them is doing—”
You kiss him again.
“Later, Spencer. We’re on a date.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “A real one?”
“Unless you kiss everyone you hang out with, yeah,”
“No, no, I don’t.” He clears his throat. “But did you know it’s—”
“Safer than shaking hands when it comes to the amount of pathogens transferred. I know.” You hold his hand firmly in yours. “Now we’re doing both.”
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not proofread, like always. i'm trying to improve my characterization still so please forgive that it's still clumsy. i am also a stickler for cute awkward spence so. expect that too
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another-lost-mc · 2 months
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Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.
Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader
NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).
A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)
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LUCIFER
Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)
Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.
(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)
He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.
MAMMON
Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.
He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.
Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.
LEVIATHAN
For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.
Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.
However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.
He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.
Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!
He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.
If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.
SATAN
He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.
He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.
Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.
Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.
ASMODEUS
It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.
His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).
Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.
Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.
Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.
BEELZEBUB
Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.
Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.
(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)
Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.
BELPHEGOR
Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.
Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.
Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.
(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)
Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.
However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.
(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)
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Read more: Obey Me! Masterlist
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sacharinee · 1 year
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pairing: bestfriend!peter parker x fem!reader
sypnosis: after peter misses his chance to ask you out to the homecoming dance, he has to suffer the consequences of his own actions
wc: 1200+
a/n: hiii!! i have the urge to write again bc im bored and i dont wanna do my summer course work. this prompt is based on this post and loosely based on that one scene in the movie ladybird when she gets picked up by her date. i wrote this super quickly so not the best but i hope u enjoy :)
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peter had it first. he had the idea, the flowers, the poster, your favorite chocolate strawberries all ready for you. until brad davis came in and stole everything. 
now he has nothing. he’s on your bed munching on the melty strawberries as he watches you get ready for the dance; you’ve asked for his help in choosing which dress you should go for. 
“okay how ‘bout this one, pete?” the boy glances up at you, mid-chew with his mouth open. 
his eyes snake over the outfit you’ve chosen. you do a swift twirl to show off the pretty soft blue satin dress that falls down to your mid-thigh with an open back. the skirt of your dress rides a bit high revealing a little too much. peter gulps, running his hands down his legs, immediately your sweet honey perfume floods his senses, his brain feels a little fuzzy, and he thinks the room gets smaller while his pants get a tiny bit tighter.
however, your eyes are what he takes in the most. you look eager, nervous about his approval, and hopeful for his admission.
his eyes widen as he gives you a soft nod and a pursed smile, “super pretty.”
you stare back at peter, his hair is flared, and you see chocolate smeared on his bottom lip. his posture looks defeated and you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him.
you give him a sour yet confused face, “why is your face like that?”
peter’s eyebrows furrow at your expression, “my face- why is my face like what?” 
“like…” you take a moment to think, “like- you look like that chef in that one movie with the rat, he’s got that same awkward funny looking face.”
peter barks out a laugh in disbelief, “alfredo linguini?? from ratatouille?!” “yea! that guy.” 
the boy in front of you offers you a pout and rubs his eyes, “thanks.”
“sure thing.” peter glazes over your seamless makeup when you take a seat next to him, “so, you’re really not coming? why not? it’ll be fun, plus all of our friends are going” you whine. 
peter kicks himself every day since you got asked out to homecoming by brad. he knows he should have made his proposal to you sooner, but now that he missed his chance, he feels like he’s lost you. 
“oh, so brad’s our friend now? and nah, it’s alright. i’m just gonna go patrolling tonight, might get some good action.” his eyebrows suggestively 
 you muster up a smirk and breathe out a laugh, “right. maybe you’ll find your own ‘cupid of crime’ that’ll show you a good time.” 
peter groans at you, “oh my god, margot robbie is so-”
honk!
“oh,” your ears perk up at the sudden interruption, “i guess that’s my date.” you quickly stand up and straighten your dress, taking nervous breaths. 
“i’m good right? my dress? face? hair?” your fingers run through your shiny locks, “its- i’m, i’m okay?”
peter has an indiscernible look plastered on his face as he gazes out the window and back at you. he’s shocked you’d settle for this, and even more appalled at you’re excitement to go with a douchebag who can’t even meet you at the front door. he knows you deserve better than this, and he knows he would treat you so much better with much less than your date. his stomach turns upside down and he feels his face get hot, breathing through his nostrils as he struggles to control his disbelief. he slowly stands up and meets your anxious expression peering up at him.
“you aren’t gonna get in a car with a guy who honks, are you?” 
it’s almost as if the entire atmosphere shifts. peter studies your appearance. your face shimmered sanguinely regardless, brighter than the glitter that sparkled atop your eyelids.
it was safe to say you were excited to go to the dance, even if your date wasn’t your first choice. you had been waiting endlessly for peter to ask you to homecoming. you were almost depressed at the thought thinking your crush didn’t like you back, but even more upset at the fact that your best friend didn’t even want to take you as his date, romantically or not. 
you remembered the feeling of delight swirling through your body as betty gushed about ned asking her to the dance, and mj agreeing to harry’s proposal. 
you only wanted the same for yourself. the same thrill and warm feeling of someone wanting to take you as their date. you wanted more than anything for it to be peter, but you figured he simply didn’t think of you like that as empty time and hopeless anticipation went by. so yes, you did settle for brad davis. he’s only ever been sweet to you, with harmless flirting and sultry smiles in the halls. plus you had a hunch about peter’s displeasing stance on the man, and presumed this may have tipped peter over just the right amount. 
you simply blink at his desperate eyes and nod, your adamant expression not wavering, “i think, yes, i am.”
you offer him a wistful smile when you brush past him, grabbing your purse on the way.
“y/n, stop.” peter’s finger’s wrap around your small wrist, your charm bracelet dangling against his hand.
“are you serious? what, the shithead can’t walk a few feet and knock on the door like a real man?”
“peter!” you snatch your wrist back and his hands rise.
you feel heat rushing up your neck and settling behind your ears. you had wanted a reaction out of peter when brad asked you out, yes, but the entitlement he has to mention about the manhood of brad angered you.
“i’m just saying,” he steps back from you, licking his dry lips while he chuckles back at you. “a guy who doesn’t have the balls to greet you at your doorstep isn’t worth falling for.” 
you scoff at him, he was so sweet and now he’s only taking his anger out on you. “well it’s a good thing that he’s just a friend then. what’s it to you anyways?”
peter disregards your last statement, “a friend?! y/n/n, listen to me. you’re being naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”
another honk outside pierces your ears, yet you can’t seem to shake your stare on the boy before you. you narrow your eyes at him.
“you sound jealous.”
peter sputters nonsense out and breaks his eyesight away from you, nervously running his hands through his curls.
“jealous? me? pfft. never. i’m not jealous, i’m- i’m being absolutely reasonable.”
you keep your eyes on him as he looks down at the carpet floor. he sighs and drops down at your chair, scratching the wood on your desk. his head shakes and ever so softly murmurs, “seriously, why are you going out with him?”
peter continues to stare at the rotten wood he’s chipping, “brad asked me to be his date, so i’m going whether you like it or not. unless,” peter glances back up at you.
“there’s something you’re not telling me.”
hope bubbles down in your stomach, and you anticipate his confession, waiting to hear the words of his true feelings that you know for certain are deep down inside him.
except, he doesn’t.
the boy only blankly stares at your desk, clenching his jaw, and drowns everything inside, letting you down yet another time. you turn away, disappointed in peter, ready to leave him alone for all the false hope and hurt he has caused you. 
“right, well, when your balls finally drop, let me know. i’ll be at the dance with my date.” 
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stuniolvs · 5 months
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sickness + saltburn
matthew sturniolo
basically taking care of matt while he has covid, based off this weeks vlog!
please request any fic ideas! or just talk to me!
I’d just heard from nick that matt tested positive for covid a couple of hours ago so I’m currently at the store buying various things for the sick boys.
 I grab ibuprofen as my final item and i look down into my basket; ice cream, tissues, new pajama pants, teddy bears, candy, and a couple of meals for the next couple of days.
I check out and drive over to matt’s.
I open the door holding two bags with my phone clenched in between my teeth.
“matt!” I shout although it’s muffled matt comes running into the kitchen. “hi baby” he says softly “hi matty."
he grabs the bags out of my hands and sets them on the counter. i start digging through them.
i hand him three teddy bears each with a different colored bow. “go give two of them to your brothers.” I order and he nods. I unload the rest of the bags setting matt’s pajamas on the counter as I grab a trash bag to go around and pick up. 
while I’m cleaning the living room matt sits on the couch dressed in his new pajama pants, cuddling his teddy bear. 
“babyyyy,” he whines “my head hurts” 
“then lay down.” I state matter-of-factly turning to him. “I wanna be with you though.” he whines yet again. “okay matt if you go lay in your bed and find something to watch I’ll be in there in 20 minutes with food.” I tell him “fine.” he agrees.
20 minutes later I walk into his room with a bowl of soup “one sec baby, gotta go bring this to nick.” he nods.
I drop off the soup at nicks room then I grab the ibuprofen and a glass of water for matt. as I step into his room I see him lying face down spread out on the bed. “matty?” I whisper, and he groans “my fuckin’ head hurts”. I sit on the edge of the bed, setting my stuff on the nightstand. I put my hand in his hair and started playing with it. “‘m sorry” he glances up at me.
“here you go baby take these,” you tell him as he sits up handing him the water and medicine. “thank you” he sips “I love you.”
“I love you more matt.” I say opening my arms he lays with his head on my chest and his arms loosely around my hips. “‘kay baby we’re watching saltburn.” he tells me “okay,” I laugh 
in the middle of the movie, matt starts rubbing my back, I smile and reach down to play with his hair. 
the bathtub scene...
I look down at matt and the second I see his face I burst out laughing. i kiss his forehead. 
“i love you matt.”
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somerandomdudelmao · 1 year
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But what's Casey using to cloak himself?
From what we see in the show, cloaking brooches are normally activated by touch but can be turned on/off without it (eg. big mama's hotel staff). This makes it pretty hard to tell what it is, and normally when theorizing about something like this, you need to go through and reread EVERYTHING but I'm too lazy for that so lets assume I actually did. Firstly lets get the mask and hockey stick out of the way, because he doesn't even have those on him afterward Draxum gave him the cloaking "pin". He doesn't actually seem to have anything that could be identified as a brooch or pin as far as we can tell in the first few panels of the "Commander O'Neil arc", which narrows it down from anything that could be blatantly obvious. He could, however, be hiding it somewhere on his body (chest, shin, shoulder, or boots are most likely in order) There's also the chance of the magic just being infused into him because Draxum is Draxum and magic shenanigan's, which could mean this search is futile and I'm just ranting about useless sh*t. Anyways, since Casey usually has one or two outfits per arc, weather it be different from the previous or not, I'm gonna compile all the first (good) shots of him here somewhat in order (from after the turt casey saga):
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The images above seem to be his more casual outfit worn around the base, with short sleeves and long, loose pants tucked into what looks like boots and/or ankle wraps (similar to what Raph has on his arms in the show).
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The classic battle/outdoor outfit that we see him wear in the movie, consisting of armor that vaguely resembles a turtle on his chest, a cape that goes over his shoulders and covers his neck as well as the top of his torso, pants with kneepads, shoes akin to sneakers, possible arm wraps that go under the gloves, the cool ass mask, and his hockey stick.
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back into the shirt and pants when in the past lair, but is in a different shirt as there is no longer a rip on the left sleeve. He isn't wearing any shoes, scratching the boots/shoes theory, as well as his pants going up past his ankles and almost past his shins, meaning it's probably not there either.
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going onto the surface, Casey wears a hoodie supposedly on top of the shirt and pants he wears around the lair, gathering his stick and mask to go with it. He is also seen wearing this hood in the lair on part 10 of "You are in the past, your thoughts are in the future".
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The shirt and pants are definitely his lair outfit at this point, the photo above is from "Donatello".
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the hoodie returns for a magic spell, only to be replaced with the free Hamato possesion make over
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This lovely upgrade keeps his hoodie, but he now has a design similar to the Hamato outfits for the turtles in the episode "Insane in the Mama Train", with wraps on his arms, legs, and around his waist. Donnie's logo now sits on his heart (awww), and he looks pretty damn cool. I wasn't sure if he had socks or shoes on, but looking at that piece of fanart on Cass' page, it's shoes. There is a symbol on his back, possibly being that of the Hamato clan (hard to tell though, as it looks more like some kind of wheel in most panels you can see it)
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The turtle version seems to be pretty much the same, the only difference being the wraps changing for his now 3 fingered hands and 3 toed feet, as well as the hoodie likely becoming a bit looser/bigger to better fit his shell. A little something I noticed about the transformation scene is that it starts from his ankles/shins/feet, which is cool and all for the posing, but is a bit controversial because it is, in fact, not in any of those areas. IN CONCLUSION,
The brooch (if there is one) is not on his arms due to him wearing short sleeves around the lair, it is not put in his shoes, and it does not need to be activated by touch. It is not anywhere near his feet, as there isn't anything we can see despite the transformation thingies coming from that general area. If we take the previous sentence into account, it is not on his chest either, crossing out pretty much all of the options we have. The last thing I can think of is Draxum somehow just... injecting the stuff into him as a controllable power. That could be flimsy, though, as Casey could've struggled with that of course. But then again, plot convenience.
TL;DR
The brooch is probably non-existent and Draxum just did some mystic shit to the kid.
THE A M O U N T of research HOLY SHIT??!¿¿¿
Why is it that every time I read an essay with theories, I feel like I'm not the author???Ahahah but for real?? I strait up just sit there like...
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like...oh my god, how interesting, there are so many mysteries in this comic, unravel them for me please
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eroselless · 27 days
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PATO - FOUR
series masterlist | part 2 | part 3
[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]
warnings: pregnancy, insecurities, mentions of sex
note: part 4! We’re jumping back this time! Some more backstory is developed here. I thought I was going to be able to put in some sexy time for you guys but it kept getting longer and longer and I didn’t want it to drag on for too long. Hopefully soon though! Happy reading <3
SPAIN, MAY 2023
2nd trimester/month 6/week 24
You stare at your phone, a sour look on your face. It feels like he is doing it on purpose. Or at least, it seems like the universe has it out for you. You hold your breath as you look through the photos, gnawing at your lip as you do so. Their blissed-out faces are so obvious, creating a sinking feeling in your stomach. Charles and Alexandra are on his boat in Italy, captured by the paparazzi. In the first picture, Alexandra lies on her back, her head turned to the side, while Charles hovers over her, placing a kiss on her lips as he grips the side of her face. You see that he is wearing the shorts you gifted him for a trip you took long before everything began to fall apart. Like turning on a movie, you see the memory playing behind your closing eyelids. You trace your fingers over the bow of your lips as if to further summon the scene from the back of your mind.
You see yourself tangled in the hotel sheets one bright morning, gasping as Charles loses himself between your thighs. His striped bathing suit is in your line of view as you writhe under his touch. It's strung up just beyond the open bathroom door, still wet. You still feel the ghost of his touch embedded in your skin as if the healed marks left behind by his lips are still fresh. Purple and red, his tongue tracing over his work, soothing your aching flesh. Your eyes snap open, halting the memory from continuing.
Your eyes float back down to your screen, looking at the next picture. The next image shows Alexandra standing, lips pursed and pressed tightly against Charles, her hands gripping the robe he wears. She is clad in a sleek swimsuit that further accentuates her slim frame, dipping low in the back to reveal smooth, flawless skin, and cutting high at the hips to emphasize her long, toned legs. You turn to the mirror that stands a few feet away from your bed, your phone suddenly forgotten on the sheets.
Letting out a shaky breath, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and pull yourself to your feet. You tug lightly at the t-shirt you wear, your tummy protruding out a little more. Your hands smooth over it, caressing it tenderly. Rubbing at the fabric, another memory illuminates your mind.
“Have you seen my –” Charles freezes in his tracks as he moves into your shared kitchen, clad in only a pair of shorts. His eyes travel over your frame as you turn from your spot at the fridge, hands full of ingredients for breakfast. Your hair is tousled and pulled into a loose bun. “Your what, mon coeur?” you ask, cracking some eggs into a metal bowl.
He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Never mind,” he chuckles, circling the kitchen island that separates you to plant a heated kiss on your lips. You lean into him, pressing yourself to his chest as he pulls the air from your lungs. Hands moving over his shoulders, you fiddle with the hair at the base of his neck. Tugging teasingly at the hem of the shirt, he pulls away, a smirk still evident on his face.
“It looks better on you anyway.”
You pull it off in frustration, tossing it to the other side of the room. Leaving you standing in small shorts and a sports bra, you examine yourself in the mirror.
You had noticed the changes before, but the increasing volume of photos of Charles and the very beautiful Alexandra couldn’t help but make your skin crawl and feel uncomfortable. It was a feeling you couldn’t quite place, bubbling deep within you. Those stretch marks used to be smaller; you could fit into those jeans a week ago; why can’t I fucking tie my shoes?
The door creaks open before the tears threaten to spill over, Ines peeking in. “Mamita, pensé que todavía estabas tomando tu siesta,” she says, her expression puzzled. I thought you were still taking your nap. You shakily inhale while pulling a discarded sweater over your head.
“I just have a lot on my mind,” you reply, dismissing the worry in her voice. She wraps her arms around you, rocking slightly as she does. She pulls away, giving you a dopey smile. “Come, let's have a little bocadito before lunch," she suggests softly, not prying but offering comfort through her presence. Snack. You nod, wiping at your waterline as she guides you out of your bedroom and into the kitchen.
You settle at the table, mind trying to swat away the thoughts still buzzing in your head.
“You know, querida,” she begins, glancing over at you as she lifts mugs of coffee from the counter and brings them to the table. “You haven’t been out in a few days. Didn’t you mention running into an old friend the other day?”
You glance up, meeting her eyes, and a gentle smile plays on her lips. “Oh, you mean Carlos? Yeah, while getting your groceries.”
She nods, smile widening. “You should give him a call and see what he’s up to.” She shrugs, a glint in her eye you don’t yet recognize. “It’d be nice to catch up and have some fun while you’re at it.”
You hesitate for a moment, suddenly not sure if you should take him up on his offer and ask to see him. You chew at the side of your cheek before sighing and giving in. Nodding, you reach for your phone. “Alright, I’ll call him.”
Your finger hovers over his contact number as nerves seem to ripple through your body. When you press it, it rings a few times before he picks up, answering. His voice is gruff like he had only just woken up from a nap, just like the one you’d been trying to take. It sounds cheerful nonetheless, warm and inviting.
“Hey! How are you?” He greets. You can’t help the soft smile that blooms on your face.
“Hola, tú. Are you busy today? Maybe you could show me around? I’ve been in this town for a while, but I still don’t know much about where to go to have fun here.” You’re picking at your nails as you wait for him to speak, anticipation building in you. Hey, you.
It’s like you can hear his smile from his voice as it sounds through your phone. Carlos chuckles. “Claro que sí. How about I come to pick you up, and we can spend the afternoon together? I know just the place.” Of course.
He gives you an hour to get ready before he arrives at your aunt’s house. He comes to the door, greeting her with a kiss on each cheek and a bear hug. When you go to leave, she raises one eyebrow at you, that twinkle in her eye returning. You smile, as you close the door behind you and make your way to Carlos’s awaiting car.
He opens the door for you, waits for you to buckle in, and the two of you make your way down the road with the promise of a quick walk and a picnic.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The sun hangs lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the path you trudge on. You feel yourself growing warm as you walk next to Carlos.
“You said this would be an easy walk,” you tease, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. “I think your definition of easy and mine are very different.”
He lets out a chuckle, nudging you playfully. “Ya vamos a llegar, no te preocupes.” We’re almost there, don’t worry.
You crinkle your face at him, letting out a huff, and he sticks out his tongue teasingly. He’s right though, as not fifteen steps later, he pulls off the path into a wide glade. The view is breathtaking as you wander further into the green grass. There are clusters of flowers spread out through the glade and tall trees that provide shade from the sun. “Look at this place, though. Totally worth it, right?”
Carlos throws a blanket over a spot under a tree before placing the basket on the ground. He hesitates as he goes to sit down, spotting you struggling to sit on your own.
“Espera, espera,” he says, clambering over to you. Wait, wait. He links his fingers with yours, gesturing for you to start sinking down to the ground. You do as he says and settle comfortably on your spot on the blanket. “There we go,” you mumble quietly, a little breathless.
Sitting down, Carlos begins pulling out an assortment of sandwiches, fruits, and a bottle of water. He extends his arm toward you, a sandwich sitting in his hand. You accept it with a smile, biting into it.
“So,” he begins, following your lead and taking a bite of his sandwich, “how have you been adjusting to life here?”
You take a moment to chew and swallow before replying, almost timidly. “It’s been…interesting,” you say, leaning back on your free hand. “It's so different from what I’m used to but in a good way. Sometimes I find myself missing the constant movement of Monaco, the noise, the rush. But it’s nice to hear the silence. There are things I miss more than others, some I don’t so much.”
“¿Como qué?” he asks, the question slipping out before he can really think it through. Like what? He regrets it as soon as he lets it slip from his lips as if he already knows exactly what you’re going to say. His eyes soften at you before speaking again. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, that’s all."
You hesitate for a moment, your gaze shifting to the blanket beneath you. There's a sudden feeling of nervousness that settles over you. You’re unsure about opening up to Carlos. He wasn’t a stranger but he wasn’t someone you were used to confiding in regularly either. You remembered the times you’d seen him at the garage, your casual conversations, the friendly banter. He had always been kind, approachable. But this was different.
“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him. “I guess it’s a little complicated,” you say slowly. “Sure, there were many times when I was by myself, but being in Monaco felt like Charles was anchored to me, that he would eventually miss me and come home. I miss that.” You can feel a lump in your throat as you explain. “When the times were good, we could do anything and be content with simply each other’s presence. I thought we were happy.”
Carlos watches as you swallow thickly, his big brown eyes offering an understanding gaze. He’d always seen you as a strong woman, standing by Charles’s side as a pillar; someone calm and quiet. But here he could see a different side, tender and chipped, broken in some spots. He reaches for your arm, squeezing gently. “It sounds like you miss that connection then, the innocent intimacy.”
You nod, eyes glazed over slightly. “Yeah, I guess I do. It’s hard to let go of something that was such a big part of my life. Especially when I see... when I see Charles moving on so easily. It makes me question a lot of things." Your hand goes to your belly, fingers rubbing at it tenderly. There’s that feeling again, from earlier when you stood face-to-face with yourself.
Carlos’s hand still sits on your arm, his touch reassuring. “And that’s completely normal, you went through so much together. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to move on and find your own happiness.”
You bring your eyes up to his, locking with his warm brown eyes. There’s a sparkle in them that makes you feel seen and understood. Something that seemed to fade between you and Charles as you neared the end of your relationship. “Thanks, Carlito,” you say, teasing him with a nickname you’d come to hear from his father once or twice in the garage.
You smile at him, suddenly noticing how good he looks under the light of the setting sun. Just like how he's seeing a new side of you, you can see a different side to him. He looks relaxed as he sits under the tree with you. He's not as stoic as he looked all those times you saw him before every race, and his smile is more genuine than the one he uses with most of the general public. His hair is messy, falling over his forehead and curling upwards behind his ears. He’s wearing a loose white T-shirt that only pulls tight over his wide shoulders. You meet his eyes, cheeks feeling hot as he catches you shamelessly looking him over. You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from him.
“Enough about me, what about you? Your love life is probably more interesting than mine.” Carlos shifts lightly, his tone turning contemplative. “Well, there is this one girl,” he begins. “She's great, really. Attractive, smart, we get along really well…” his voice trails off slightly. “But I don't know. It feels like there's something missing, we don't quite have that deep connection, that spark.”
You nod, understanding. “It can be hard to find that connection. Sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not.”
Carlos nods, his gaze thoughtful, and you recognize the way his eyes look forward, not looking at anything in particular, just lost. “I want something more, something real. Someone who really understands me, that I can truly connect with.”
You feel a slight flutter in your chest, a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. You push it aside, a tingle of guilt shooting down your spine. Too complicated, too soon, you think. Instead, you find yourself absent-mindedly nodding, understanding what he means instantly. "Sometimes it just takes time to figure out if someone is right for you," you offer. "Or maybe you just haven't met the right person yet."
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The hour passes quickly, with chatter and laughter being tossed between the two of you. There’s bittersweet reminiscing of old times and sharing stories of before your timelines came together in the Ferrari garage. As the hour passes, Carlos can’t help but steal glances at you, noticing how your eyes sparkle when telling different stories or how the wind pushes your scent his way whenever it dances through your hair. 
He lets himself unabashedly drink in every curve of your silhouette, every crinkle in your laughing face, and all the little gestures you make with your hands as you speak. He lets himself revel in your presence, something he couldn’t do when you were with Charles. It was a longing he had been suppressing out of respect for his teammate.
Eventually, you sigh, rubbing your lower back. "Carlos, I think I need to lie down," you say, your voice suddenly exhausted. “This little one is slowly starting to make things a little difficult.”  
Carlos nods immediately, starting to pack up your picnic. "Of course. Let’s get you home." You walk slowly to the car, the sun beginning to dip under the horizon as you climb into the passenger seat.  
The drive home is quiet, the atmosphere charged with unspoken words. The air feels heavier, the silence more meaningful. Carlos occasionally glances at you, his eyes searching for something, but the silence remains.
When you reach Ines’s house, Carlos gets out and walks over to your side. You smile sleepily as he reaches for your hand, helping you out. You ignore your quickening heartbeat as your hand links with his.
"Thanks for today, Carlos," you say softly, looking up at him.
He smiles warmly. “Anytime, I enjoyed it.”
At the front step, you hesitate, nerves suddenly overwhelming you. Carlos turns to you, the setting sun casting a warm glow over your features. He can’t help but admire how beautiful you look, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion he hasn’t seen before.
You rise on your toes and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, your hand resting on his bicep for support. Carlos's breath hitches at the touch of your lips, his heart pounding. As you step back, your eyes lock for a moment, saying so much yet so little. You turn and open the door, warmth escaping into the chilled night. With your hand on the doorknob, you pause and look back at him one last time. “Buenas noches, Carlos.”
“Buenas noches,” he echoes.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The days slip by seamlessly, and it seems Carlos is becoming a fixture on your doorstep. Often, he arrives with arms laden with fresh ingredients. He often loses himself in the kitchen’s warmth, occasionally offering you a spoonful of whatever he’s been cooking up, a playful dance of tastes and laughter filling the air.
One evening, as Carlos savours a spoonful of sauce, his approval spills forth. “Te quedó esta salsa bien rica,” he praises, stirring the pot with a satisfied grin. Your sauce here is very delicious.
You chuckle, shooting him a sidelong glance. “Me enseñaron bien,” you nudge him playfully, shoulders brushing. I was taught well.
In subtle ways, Carlos begins to make himself indispensable around the house. He tackles Aunt Ines’s unreachable sink leak, banishes the wobble from a chair deemed off-limits, and even lends a hand in her garden. Aunt Ines finds herself gazing at him with admiration, not just for his handy skills but also for the way he lifts you from your melancholy and paints a smile on your face.
You walk together one evening, a gentle breeze caressing your skin. Carlos swiftly sheds his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. Despite your attempts to suppress the fluttering butterflies that erupt in your tummy, your cheeks betray your feelings with a rosy hue as you look up at him.
"You didn't have to do that," you murmur, fingers fidgeting with the zipper.
"I wanted to," Carlos replies simply, his gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary. Pausing in the middle of the street, you stand still, your breath catching as his fingers brush away a stray hair from the jacket's neckline. Your eyes fall away, a quiet anticipation hanging between you.
“Helado?” you exclaim, breaking the spell he has you under and dart towards an ice cream parlour nearby. "I'll have two scoops of chocolate, please," you request from the server, fingers drumming on the counter.
"Make that three," Carlos chimes in, flashing a grin at you. He pays for the ice cream and follows behind you as you gleefully find your spot at a table. 
As you lounge at the small table, you bask in the warm sun. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, like fireflies in the dimming light of dusk. Swiftly he dips his finger into the creamy confection, tracing a delicate line across the tip of your nose.
You gasp at the cold substance, a symphony of laughter escaping your lips. “Carlos!” you exclaim. He can’t help but laugh as you scramble to wipe it off, holding the napkins just out of your grasp. You narrow your eyes at him, angling your cone towards his face. Yet like the fast cars he drives, he moves, leaving a delicate smear of cream on his cheek. 
He freezes, jaw hanging open. You go to smear more over his other cheek as he pushes the ice cream away, shaking his head in playful amusement. You relent, letting out a chuckle as you plop back into your seat. 
"Nice try," he quips, his voice a soft melody in the evening air, as he reaches for a napkin to wipe away the cream.
The moment seems to slow, the world around you seemingly holding its breath as Carlos’s eyes flicker up to meet yours. With a gentle movement, he reaches out towards you, thumb tracing a soft arc over the tip of your nose. With a tender reverence, he brings his finger to his lips, tongue poking out and dragging over the pad of his digit, eyes never leaving yours. It sends a rush down your body, igniting something in your gut that is almost unrecognizable. 
You get pulled from your stupor as laughter rings through your ears. Your eyes land on a group of women, arms linked as they approach you. One of them speaks up as they pass by. "You two make such a lovely couple," she says, her voice soft but full of warmth.
You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, feeling like a deer in the headlights being caught doing something she shouldn’t be. Carlos grins at the woman, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Thank you," he replies graciously, arms swinging over to rest on the back of your chair. His gaze lingers on your warm cheeks before winking at the woman, sending her away with his signature smile.
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a/n: Thank you to everyone for tuning in, any feedback, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, I love seeing your reactions and notes! Love you guys lots!
tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sltwins @bwormie @marshmummy@honethatty12 @staplerrrr @smithieandy @loloekie @musicheaux @jeondeluxe111 @dessxoxsworld @xoscar03 @emryb @yl90
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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year
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Open Invitation
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➪the one where hayden’s day off with you gets interrupted.
Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, established relationship, interrupted smut, sexting, teasing, swearing (omg), part 2 is where the fun begins...
Word Count: 4k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The fact that Hayden was given the day off today was a miracle. He had been in and out of the house so often that he was beginning to feel overworked, but he would never say that out loud. 
He loves his job and loves what he gets to do, so he would never voice out the few downsides he felt came with it. 
The biggest downside was his limited time he had with you before he had to be on set. How limited? Some days it was non-existent as he was usually out of the house before you even woke up. Other days it was a mere few minutes before he was running the risk of being late. 
It also didn’t help that he was always exhausted whenever he returned home, so he couldn’t stay up late and spend the rest of the night with you like he wanted. 
This project was a bit different than the others, though. Instead of needing to leave you for months on end, the film was being made on a set that was half an hour from where you two lived, so he got to wake up and go to sleep next to you every night. It was a change he quickly found himself growing accustomed to, although he knew that he’d have to actually leave you again in the future once this movie was done. 
For now, he was content with coming back home to you after a long day’s worth of filming. 
Today he had no scenes to film and was given the day off, something he had told you about beforehand so you weren’t waking up early to see him off like you always tried to do. It was nearing ten in the morning when he woke up, the extra four hours of sleep he got had left him feeling more rested than he had in a while. 
Looking to his left, Hayden squinted at the small stream of sunlight that crept through the gap in the black-out curtains and left a line of light that stretched across the room. He felt you shift beside him and he turned to look at you, a small smile gracing his lips when he realized that you were holding his right hand in both of yours, still lost in sleep.
His left hand, adorning the silver band you put on him a few months prior on what could only be described as the best day of his life, reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear. Your eyes moved behind your eyelids and he briefly wondered what you were dreaming about before the urge to take you into his arms became too much to resist. 
It had been weeks since he was able to just hold you in the comfort of your own bed without having to rush afterwards. He missed you, despite still seeing you everyday. Maybe he was selfish, but he strongly believed that no time would ever be long enough when it came to you. 
He inched closer to you, keeping his hand locked in yours as he moved his head down to place a kiss to your collarbone. In his defense, your smooth skin was just asking for it, the way his oversized shirt hung loosely off your shoulders, exposing a fair amount of your skin to him. He places another kiss to your shoulder, and another to the base of your neck.
You moved slightly, your sleeping self tilting your head back and holding onto his hand tighter. He couldn’t help the prideful smirk that formed on his lip at how responsive you always are for him, even while you’re sleeping.
Without waking you up, Hayden somehow managed to move so he was hovering over you, the sheets loosely wrapped around his waist and his hand still clasped in yours. He leans down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips turning upwards when he sees your eyes open to meet his. “Good morning,” he said against your skin, allowing you to pull your hand from his so you could caress the side of his face.
Humming quietly, a lazy smile formed on your lips. “It is now,”
Hayden hummed back, a smirk forming on his lips as his mouth moved further down your body. “Just good?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the skin of your stomach, his shirt you stole having lifted and exposed your lower abdomen to him. “I can think of a way to make it better.”
His words have your chest tightening in excitement. “Oh, yeah?” You ask, biting down on your lower lip to stop the growing grin as sleep slowly begins leaving your body. “How?”
A kiss was placed on your hip, then another on the opposite one, before his teeth were tugging on the thin lace that covered your core. “By having you come around my tongue within minutes after waking up,”
Your face heats up at his words, a deep blush fanning across your cheeks as he tugs the fabric down your legs. “Hm, looks like someone woke up wanting me,” you tease, instinctively reaching down to grab his left hand as you felt his breath against your heat. 
“I always wake up wanting you,” he replied before his tongue poked out and licked a stripe up your folds, eliciting a sharp inhale from you. Your free hand immediately reached for his hair, the strands a freshly dyed dark brown for his role. 
Hayden wasn’t one to turn away from physical changes to his appearance for his roles, whether that be in the form of a new hair color, weight loss or gain, or a fair amount of facial hair that needed to be grown. You remembered the time when he had to gain more than a couple of pounds in muscle for his role as Anakin for Revenge of the Sith, and you vividly remember how infatuated you had become with his body and his determination to reach his goal.
His dedication to his job was a massive turn on, so you were more than happy to indulge in his latest appearance change, even if it wasn’t a drastic one. 
Hayden with dark hair was just…..damn near edible, for a lack of better words.
His words go right through you and you can’t help but agree with him, “I wake up wanting you, too,” you barely get out, your voice sounding more breathy than normal. 
He grinned against you, his eyes fixated on yours as he focused his attention on the small bundle of nerves just above where he licked a stripe. You tear your eyes away from his as you turn your head, the bright red numbers of the clock on his nightstand staring back at you.
10:03 AM.
You bite your lip in a grin, your hand tightening its hold on his as you take in the fact that you’d have him all to yourself for the whole day. It was rare for him to get days off in the middle of filming a movie, so you were taking what you could get with open arms. 
And, as per his request, open legs.
Your eyes meet his once again as you sink further into the pillow, and the look he gave you while his tongue circled your clit had a loud moan leaving your lip. He looked at you with hooded eyes, his piercing blue irises staring into yours as his arm wraps under your thigh and his hand presses against your hip. 
“Fuck,” you nearly laugh in disbelief at just how lucky you had gotten. The hottest guy you had ever seen in your life was your husband, and was currently waking you up in the best way possible. 
Hayden smirks at your reaction, his tongue gently but firmly massaging your clit.  You softly tug on his hair, the deep groan he lets out sending a searing jolt up your body. Your hips try to lift but are unable to due to his tight hold on you, his hand pinning you back down. “Do you like it when I do that?” He asks, his voice deep and eyes dark with lust.
You nod, a hum of confirmation leaving your lips.
“Mhm,” he hummed back, creating another wave of vibration through you. 
“Fuck,” you press your brows together at the feeling, refraining from bucking your hips upwards as you knew he would just hold you down. “Do that again.”
Hayden’s tongue swirled around your nerves before his open mouth closed around them, sucking your clit as he moaned around it. 
Your eyes roll back as your legs begin to shake, the stimulation becoming too much to handle a mere five minutes after waking up. Still, you allowed him to continue.
A sharp breath leaves you when his teeth graze over the nerve, your stomach twisting in an all too familiar feeling. Your back arches then immediately falls back down onto the bed when his phone went off from its place on his nightstand. 
Your high quickly fades away as his mouth leaves your core and he lifts himself up, the sheets falling from his form as he reaches over to grab the still ringing phone. 
“Are you serious?” You ask as you try to regulate your breathing.
“Sorry,” he says as he kneels next to you. “I meant to turn this off last night.”
Hayden was about to ignore the call when he saw the name of the assistant director. His brows furrowed as he held his finger up, half to silence your annoyed whine and half to let you know that he had full intention on picking up where he left off once he was done with the call.
He was met with the assistant’s pitiful voice when he answered the call on the fourth ring. “Hey, I’m really sorry, Mr Christensen,” he started and Hayden felt his heart fall, already knowing exactly what this call was about. “But we actually need you on set today. I apologize for the late notice, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
He could’ve rolled his eyes at the irony of those words. ‘Actually, yeah, you are’ he wanted to say but held back, instead settling on giving you a forced smile as you took his free hand in yours. “No, not at all,” he says and watches as you turn his wedding band around his finger a few times, boredom quickly falling over you. “What time am I expected to be there for?” 
He hated that he was asking that, and he hated the way your eyes widened slightly as you tried to figure out what they were talking about. Hayden could only hope that he had at least a few more hours with you before he was called off to set.
“Yeah, um,” Charlie, the assistant, trailed off and a rummaging sound was heard in the background. “We were hoping you were able to come in, say….right now?”
Hayden’s eyes left you as his head fell back in a silent groan. He stared up at the ceiling in dread, feeling the bed dip as you pushed yourself up to copy his kneeling stance. “Right,” he started, feeling your hands tug on his arm in an attempt to get him to look at you. It worked as his guilty eyes met your confused expression. “Uh, yeah, that’s….fine. I’ll be there soon.”
Your face falls at his words and he barely hears the relieved cheer from Charlie before he’s hanging up and frustratingly tossing his phone onto the bed. You watch as it hits the soft comforter before you look back up at him. “What was that?” You ask but fear you know damn well what it was. “Do not tell me you just got called onto set.”
The conflicted look he gave you was all the confirmation you needed.
“Oh, my- and you said yes?” Any and all rational and reasonable thoughts were out the window at this point. 
He gave you a look. “I kind of had to,”
You whine and fall back onto the pillows, your hands reaching for the sheets as you huff. “I cannot believe you woke me up, went down on me but didn’t let me finish, and now you’re leaving just when things were getting good,” you mutter before adding, “And doing all that on your off day? Unbelievable.”
You weren’t mad, not really. You understand how unpredictable his job can be, so you’re usually prepared for things like him getting called in on his days off, or him having to cancel plans.
You just wish the timing wasn’t this bad.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he leans over to place a kiss to your head before quickly getting up. He throws on a t-shirt and dark jeans in a matter of seconds, completing the simple look with one of his many hats in an attempt to cover his messy hair - the result of your relentless tugging. “I’ll make it up to you.” 
He grabs his phone from the bed and his keys from the nightstand before looking at your unmoving form still half under the covers. 
He laughs at the grumpy look you wore. “I promise,” he says before heading towards the door. He pauses halfway under the frame, his hand on the doorknob. “I love you.”
You fight off a smile and cross your arms as he waits for you to say it back. “I love you, too,” you give in and watch as a grin takes over his face before he’s closing the door behind him.
-
It was probably in Hayden’s best interest to have not woken you up this morning as it was nearing twelve in the afternoon and you had yet to be able to fall back asleep. 
You were far too turned on to ignore the constant throbbing in your core, no matter how many times you tossed and turned. The ache just didn’t go away, and your husband was the one to blame.
You longed to feel the soothing muscle of his tongue on your most private part again, itched to have his hands pinning down your hips and moans pulsating through your core.
He was a tease, you came to that conclusion pretty quickly when you realized that there was no way you’d be able to go back to sleep. Not with the emptiness between your legs and the build up of your high still lingering in your body.
It only made sense that if he got to get you all riled up then leave, you could also do the same to him. Sort of.
You wouldn’t be able to leave him as he was on a closed off set, and if you were being honest, you didn’t feel like using your set pass to go rile him up in person, anyway. 
Throwing off the sheets, you lazily push yourself up and off the bed.
In the bathroom connected to your shared room, you prop yourself up on the marbled countertop, the hem of his shirt reaching just past the middle of your thighs. You grab your phone and snap a picture of yourself from your shoulders down, your chest, torso and thighs being the only things shown. Still, you knew the sight of your bare legs would get a reaction out of him, even if it was just a small one.
Still upset you left so suddenly this morning :( I miss you
You add the photo and send it to him, not entirely sure when he’d be able to get the chance to see it.
 His response came quicker than you expected it to - a mere five minutes after you sent the photo.
Hayden <3: I’m sorry :( I miss you, too. I like that photo, wish I could see your pretty face, though. 
A blush spreads across your cheeks as you read his text, a feeling of mischief rising inside you. You jump down from the counter and make your way back into the room, running the tip of your finger along the wooden surface of the dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, you hold back a smirk as you pick up the light pink lace you only wear on special occasions. 
There was nothing special about today, but the plan currently brewing in your head was just too good to pass up. 
-
Hayden carried a feeling of guilt within him during the entire drive to set, and even carried it during the filming of his scenes. 
Part of him was mad at the crew as he was promised a day off, one he was given weeks in advance and one he had all planned out, and the other part of him was….well..horny. 
Going down on you wasn’t just for your pleasure, but also for his. He loved doing it, loved the sounds you made with his head between your thighs, and loved how responsive you always are to him. 
He wished he was with you right now. He had been counting down the days until he was able to stay in and spend a full day with you, who was always so understanding and someone he was beyond grateful for. Hayden was convinced there was no one else in the world better than you. 
There was no telling when he’d be given another day off, with reshoots and edits and all that coming after he finishes filming. He just wants one day, one day to have you all to himself without worrying about his job, one day to do whatever he pleases. 
The next few months will be brutal.
My Wife: I can show you something better than just my pretty face ;)
Hayden had very little time to prepare himself for the sight he was met with when he clicked on the photo. 
Attached to your text was a picture of your chest, the length of your body on full display except for the parts he desperately wanted to see, which were covered by the pink lace set you had worn more than once. His favorite. 
He couldn’t be more grateful that he was given a few minutes to himself before he was due for his next scene. 
Bringing his phone closer to him and away from the multiple crew members that were in the same room as him, he hastily types out his reply before trying to keep himself calm.
Don’t do this to me.
Please.
He should’ve known you wouldn’t give up easily. And part of him didn’t want you to. An even bigger part of him wanted you to continue to send him pictures like the one you just sent now, this one being a close up of your chest with one of the straps of the bra falling from your shoulder.
My Wife: Do what?
My Wife: I’m just giving you some motivation to get home faster.
He was so screwed.
He wasn’t able to type out another reply before the screen switched to one that showed an incoming call from you. He answered almost immediately, turning away from the crew and refraining from running his hand through his recently styled hair. “Y/n,” he says rather than greeting you in the usual way and you only laugh quietly on the other end, making his heart skip a beat at the sound. 
“Hi, honey,” you say cheerfully, twirling your hair around your index finger as you sat on the edge of the bed you had just made. “Did you like my pictures?”
“You need to stop,” he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.
He could picture the pout you wore as you ask, “Why? Don’t you like them?” Your voice gave away any act you were trying to put on as your words dripped with a teasing tone. “I took them just for you. Here, this one is better.”
The phone vibrated against his ear and he pulled it away just as another picture flashed on the screen, this one being of your lower half. The lace was pulled high up, revealing only an inch or two of your core and he was now beginning to feel desperate again, wanting so badly to be back at home with you. Heat washes over his body and he groans in both desperation and dread at what was bound to happen if you kept teasing him like this. “Baby, stop,”
Your laugh meets his ear once again as he brings his phone back up to plead with you. He was seconds away from being called back to set and there was no way he’d return when he felt as though all of his blood had rushed to his length. “If that’s what you want,” you trail off as you lay back against the bed, your free hand resting dangerously low on your stomach. “I guess I’ll just have to find something else to entertain myself with.”
“I’m sorry, angel,” he sighs and rubs his forehead as he meets the director’s eyes. He gestures for him to come back over and Hayden nods quickly and turns back around. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, I promise, I-”
He abruptly stops talking when he hears a sound he had heard from you too many times to count now. The hushed whisper you had let out when he was saying his goodbyes….it was borderline a moan. There was no way you’re…touching yourself, right? 
He stays silent and waits a few seconds to see if you would make another noise, secretly wanting to hear you again.
When you remain silent he tries again. “I gotta go, baby, I’ll see you soon-” 
Another quiet whimper leaves your lips and successfully shuts him up for the second time. “How soon?” You murmur and let out a low hum as your wandering hand travels further down your body. “You know I can get impatient sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” He forces out a laugh before dropping his voice to a lower tone. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing right now?” 
He wasn’t sure why he was asking, or what he even wanted the answer to be. He’d no doubt become even more turned on, but he’d also feel a bit frustrated that it wasn’t him who was touching you. 
“I might be,”
“Seriously?” He groaned then quickly moved away when one of the stage crew members gave him a funny yet concerned look. His voice dropped in a hushed whisper, “This isn’t fair.”
“I can’t help it,” you defend yourself weakly as the tip of your index finger finds the semi-sensitive outline of your clit through the pink lace. “You made me feel so good this morning, baby, then you just left. That was pretty unfair, too, Hayden.”
“I know,” he groaned out, glancing back at the director and giving a quick thumbs up to let him know that he was almost done. “I wish I was there with you right now….wish that I was inside you. I miss your taste so much.”
His words make your finger pause as they sink in, the filth masked behind his kind voice unfamiliar. Usually it was you who did most of the dirty talk, so to hear it come from him was rare yet it never failed to leave you breathless, hopelessly clenching around nothing. 
“I’d do anything to be back at home with you, to hear those beautiful sounds you make for me,” he was returning the teasing completely now, your plan backfiring and now leaving you both sexually frustrated beyond belief. “To be buried so deep in you. I can’t stand to be away from you, pretty girl.”
A desperate whimper leaves your lips, unknowingly making Hayden’s jeans tighten a bit, and you sigh heavily. 
You bring your hand back up and rest it over your stomach once again, deciding to hold off until you see him later on, no matter how badly you wanted to feel a sense of relief. “Then hurry up and film your scenes so you can get back home to me,”
-
Part 2
1K notes · View notes
livlaughloveluke · 7 months
Text
𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫- 𝐞.𝐥
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your usually bright and bubbly self snaps when you hear people talking bad about your boyfriend
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, one slap LMAO 😥, people are very mean in this :(
(loosely) based off this request: Just dorky shy ethan x sweet bubbly (maybe popular??) reader from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome
𝐚/𝐧: two posts within the same day?!? also i only kinda followed the request but i think its similar! hope you guys like this one! 💘
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you had just finished drawing a nose and whiskers with bright eyeshadow, when your phone lit up. you picked your it up, to see that ethan had texted you. you smiled and unlocked your phone to open the message.
ethan 💗
hey im omw
ill be there in 10 
                                                                         you
                                                          okay!! ily! 💘
ethan 💗
love you too ❤️
you and ethan were walking together to some frat party for halloween. a couple of your friends begged you to go, however you knew ethan wasn’t the most comfortable at parties. 
you asked him one afternoon if he was up to it, making sure to emphasize that it was okay if he didn’t want to go, and that you would be happy to stay home and watch movies all night if thats what he wanted.
ethan wanted to be supportive, so he said he didn’t mind going, which was a complete lie. but seeing the smile on your face when he agreed was totally worth it. 
you and ethan decided to be characters from ratatouille. you were the remi, and he was chef linguini. you took a more sexy approach, with a grey corset and mini skirt, while he dressed a little more modest, with jeans and an apron. 
you carefully put on the headband with little mouse ears attached to it, and your costume was complete. shortly after, you heard knocking. you left your room and headed to let ethan in. 
you giggled at the sight of his costume, and went to plant a kiss on his lips. he kissed you back, his face now a shade of red. 
“you looks so cute!” you say, grinning widely. ethan compliments your outfit, and you head off the party.
you interlock hands with him on the short walk, your arms swinging with every step. you heard the house from down the street, the typical frat party music blaring loudly. 
you enter the rowdy estate, and immediately see some of your friends. you rush over to them, dragging ethan along with you. you let go of his hand to hug your friends, which left him standing their awkwardly. 
you decide to go find some drinks, and invite ethan to follow you. however, on your way to the kitchen, the crowd separates you and him. 
when you find the drinks, you realize ethan wasn’t with you anymore. you reach the keg and fill up a red solo cup, trying to be quick so you could find him again. you search for a soda in the alcohol filled kitchen, knowing ethan wasn’t a big drinker.
while opening all of the cabinets, looking for anything that wasn’t spiked, a man around your age walked up to you.
“what are you? a mouse?” he asks, trying to start a conversation.
“remi the rat actually, im matching with my boyfriend.” you say, trying to politely express your disinterest while still searching for a damn soda. 
“whatcha looking for?” he continues to pester you, despite your previous comment.
“a soda, for my boyfriend.” you make sure to accentuate the boyfriend part, hoping he would take the hint. 
he opens a cabinet and hands you a sprite. 
“uhm thanks i guess.” you reply, and turned to walk away. the strange man grabbed you by the wrist, turned you around, and pulled you closer to him.
“he doesn’t have to know.” he whispers maliciously. 
you yank your arm away from him, and take off the other way. you tried your best not to make a scene, hoping that you could leave that all behind you and have a good time. 
he seemed to leave you alone after that whole ordeal, and you searched around the house for ethan. you eventually spotted him in the corner alone, scrolling through his phone. 
a wave of guilt washed over you. you should have been able to tell that he was lying when he said he wanted to come. 
you rush over, and apologize for leaving him. 
“im so sorry eth, we can go home if you want.” 
ethan saw the look of disappointment in your eyes, and he couldn’t bear to make you leave.
“it’s fine, really. I don’t mind. can you stay with me, please?” ethan asked. 
“of course, baby.” you replied, handing him the soda. “i know you don’t like drinking, so i found a soda for you!! all i could find was sprite, although i know your favorite is coke.” you say.
ethan smiled at your caring personality. how did he pull you? you were drop dead gorgeous and extremely popular, and he was well, just ethan. 
a loser, friendless, and a nobody were all words people used to describe him. you however, made him feel the opposite.
with you, he was someone. he could be himself around you, and make the stupid dad jokes that he was scared to say around other people in fear of being judged. 
just then, someone shouted your name from across the room. you grabbed ethans hand and interlocked your fingers once again, making sure he stayed by your side this time.
you pulled him over to a group of people, all of which he was unfamiliar with. you greeted all of them with a smile, and started catching up with them.
“your costume is so cute!” said one of the girls you were having a conversation with. 
“thanks!! ethan helped pick out most of it!” you reply back, leaning your head on his shoulder and smiling.
what you seemed to miss was the nasty glares they gave ethan. 
“is he uhm.. your boyfriend?” another girl from the group asked. what you didn’t miss was the tone she used. it was like she was ridiculing him, and for what? 
“yeah. got a problem with that?” you ask in a sarcastic tone, although you weren’t in the mood for being funny. 
“its just.. he’s kinda… nevermind.” the girl says back, her voice lowering at the end.
“no, say it. he’s kinda what?” you respond back, not as cheerful this time. ethan stood next to you, looking down at the ground. 
“fine. he’s a fucking weirdo.” the girl blurted out, and you were livid. in the heat of the moment, you slapped her straight across the face, hoping to knock some sense into her. 
the group gasped, and ethan looked at you with wide eyes. 
“what the fuck?!?” she shouted, getting everyones attention.
“how the hell are you gonna make fun of my boyfriend when you’re to much of a slut to even keep one?!?!” you yell at her. all you heard was “ooohs” from the crowd at your statement. 
ethan dragged you outside before anyone could say anything else. 
“are you okay??” ethan asks, worried. you look at him confused. 
“i should be asking you if you’re okay! those bitches had no right to say anything about you. you’re the best boyfriend, and if they can’t see that, than it’s their loss.” you reply.
ethan just hugs you upon hearing your words. 
he wanted to spend forever in your arms. you were his savior, protecting him from every asshole out there. 
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538 notes · View notes
taevbears · 10 months
Text
To Be Loved - 01
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Here's where she meets prince charming.
⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 5.2k ⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.
Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)
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It was a dark and stormy night.
Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.
One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.
You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.
To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.
If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.
But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.
One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”
The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.
Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.
The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.
No one does.
Except for one.
Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.
“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”
The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.
The difference between the two is telling. 
Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.
His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.
He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.
There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.
Rap Monster.
That’s what they call him.
And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.
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In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.
And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.
Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.
Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.
And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.
Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you? 
That’s a question even you often wonder.
Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.
People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.
“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”
“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.
He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”
“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”
Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way. 
It’s something you learn the hard way.
“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.
More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.
In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?
You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.
You can’t take it.
“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”
A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”
You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.
Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.
You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over. 
With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.
“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.
What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.
Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles. 
Hybrids.
Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.
In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.
“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.
“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”
“Kangdae!” 
“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.
“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”
One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.
You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.
Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.
He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.
People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.
Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.
And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?
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Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.
One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.
Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.
This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.
You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.
A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening. 
Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.
Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.
Had it not been for what he does next.
Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.
“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.
Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.
It doesn’t look human.
A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”
“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”
Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”
The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.
But you have to help.
“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.” 
He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.
In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo. 
“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.
Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.
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It’s been years since that night.
Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.
However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.
But you haven’t seen him since.
You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.
To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.
Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.
The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.
And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.
The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town.  To run away from it all and never go back.
But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.
In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.
With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.
A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.
It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.
Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.
Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.
How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved? 
You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to. 
That much you know.
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Your plans are foiled by a single question.
“Will you marry me?”
Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.
Do you want to say yes?
Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?
“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.
Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.
Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.
You have to say something. You have to decide.
You have to tell him no.
“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”
“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.
But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.
You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.
You’re engaged now.
And it makes you want to throw up.
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“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”
“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”
He scoffs. “What are you saying?”
It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.
Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.
You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.
“Kangdae, do you even love me?”
Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”
Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”
“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”
“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?
“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”
He storms out. 
And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.
That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.
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It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.
“What’s going on? What is this?”
You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.
No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.
He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.
“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”
“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?
“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”
“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?
“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”
“Stop. You’re disgusting.”
How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?
Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human. 
“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.
You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.
Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?
No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.
You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.
You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.
“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.
The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.
Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.
“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.
When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.
“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”
This time, he nods his head more eagerly.
Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.
The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”
It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?
You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.
“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.
Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.
The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.
“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively. 
He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.
“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.
You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.
“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”
The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.
“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”
The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”
This time, your eyes widen. “What?”
“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”
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Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!
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springwitch26 · 6 months
Text
green like her eyes (part 1) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
part 2
summary: you and melissa enjoy smoking weed together to blow off steam from work. this time, things get really steamy.
warnings: sexual content (18+), recreational marijuana use, some emotional/romantic story elements (fluff? more like intense mutual pining), trippy scenes and a general dark aura at times but it's cute
notes: i'm back! consume drugs responsibly, folks. this story is different from my usual content and loosely based on an ex-situationship lol. part 1 sets up the relationship between mel and reader, and part 2 (hopefully coming in the next few days) will feature some more sexual tension and smut. comments and feedback appreciated as always 💚
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melissa never would have guessed that you were as young as you were when she met you. unlike other teachers your age, you had a natural air of maturity about you. you were confident but not cocky, passionate (but not annoyingly so, like janine), and smart but not smug about it. in a word, you were cool. and melissa was hooked. with the natural chemistry between the two of you, you became fast friends.
you never meant for melissa to find out about your extracurricular interest in marijuana, but it just slipped out one day. you were too comfortable around her to hold anything back.
"god, what a week it's been," you mused, sitting on her desk as you watched her pack up for the weekend. "i just need to curl up on my couch, put on some netflix, and maybe smoke..."
"smoke what?" she asked reflexively, and you knew she was a keeper.
in the conversation that followed, you and melissa made plans to smoke together that night. what started as a fun experiment soon became routine stress relief. you'd go over to melissa's house every friday night and make full use of the weed from one of her many 'guys'. because melissa cared about your safety, she never let you drive home. you'd just have to sleep over. and since she wouldn't let you sleep on the couch—'the last thing ya need at your age is back pain!'—you would just have to sleep in her bed. with her.
with the introduction of this shared interest, your relationship with melissa became much more intimate. for starters, melissa's touches were always bolder on friday nights. while she wasn't shy about touching you sober—drifting her hand along your lower back as she brushed past you, rubbing your shoulders when you looked stressed in the breakroom—the touches were different after a joint or two. hungrier.
where you were a giggly and whimsical stoner, melissa was definitely a touchy one. you two would sit on her couch, practically on top of each other while you watched movies or played video games. you'd talk animatedly about whatever was happening on the tv; she'd watch your face and trace featherlight patterns on your thighs. and your belly. and maybe also the swell of your ass, when she thought she could get away with it.
she always could.
...
after the success of ava fest, the two of you were on top of the world. tonight's would be the best sleepover yet.
"we got lots to celebrate, sweet pea," melissa had covertly whispered in your ear as people filed out of the gym. you knew what she meant and your face warmed, causing you to look away bashfully. melissa thought you were the cutest thing.
when you let yourself in the front door that night, you were met with the mesmerizing sight of melissa rolling a joint on her kitchen counter. she smirked as you faltered in the doorway, eyes lingering on her working fingers. she rubbed the flower between her fingertips, and your mind betrayed you with a filthy image.
"y/n? you comin' in?" melissa's amused voice brought you out of your trance and you kicked your boots off, closing the door behind you. melissa didn't miss the way your skirt lifted and swirled with your movements.
"looking good, chef schemmenti," you gestured between melissa and the joint-in-progress. at this she smiled, trying not to stare at your breasts and legs as you moved closer in that damn outfit.
you leaned against the counter across from her, making sure to push your tits forward while doing so. you winked at melissa, whose cheeks had turned a shade pinker, and motioned for her to continue rolling up.
"thanks, hon. this stuff's supposed to be top-shelf. gelato, i think they said," melissa's south philly accent was clear as she spoke.
you smiled in appreciation. melissa knew you liked to research what you smoked before you got high on it. you picked up your phone to look up the strain, but then you saw melissa bring the paper up to her lips.
her tongue darted out and drew a line across the paper, allowing melissa to seal the joint. she held eye contact with you the entire time, and you swore she could read your mind. it was like she knew you were thinking about her tongue sweeping through your folds and circling your bundle.
you knew it was wrong; it had to be. she was your coworker, and so much older with more experience in every aspect of life. but that was exactly what attracted you to her.
"whaddaya say? wanna light this one up?" melissa held the joint up to your line of sight, an amused glint in her eyes.
...
minutes later you were standing on her balcony, huddled together to keep the wind from putting out the flame. melissa took the first hit, blowing an impressive cloud of smoke from her full lips and into the sky. you felt dizzy watching the way her lips curled into an 'o' around the smoke.
when she passed the joint to you, you were determined to prove yourself. you took a long inhale, and in seconds you were coughing furiously. melissa chuckled under her breath, but reached out to rub your back. her touch felt electric.
"you okay, hon? i would call an ambulance, but this community doesn't need to know what ms. schemmenti and ms. y/l/n do behind closed doors," she joked, drawing circles on your back.
"yeah, i'm alright," you rasped out, brushing tears from your eyes. "my lungs just need a break." melissa paused a moment at that, looking deep in thought.
"do you trust me?" she finally asked after a prolonged silence. you nodded firmly, staring deep into her probing eyes. they were as green as the trees in her backyard.
melissa took another hit of the joint and leaned in, and before you knew it her mouth was on yours. her tongue swiped along your bottom lip, and your lips parted to welcome her in. she blew a steady stream of smoke into your mouth, and you accepted it greedily.
"there. feel better?" melissa whispered as she pulled away from you. her pupils were blown, and you felt high on the look she gave you alone. you both grinned.
the rest of the session went that way. melissa would take sizable hits of the joint, then shotgun the smoke into your mouth for you. you didn't touch the joint for the rest of the night; if you wanted a direct hit, melissa would hold it up to your lips while her other arm rested on your waist.
melissa was right about the weed being high-quality. you felt like you were floating in her arms as she held you by the waist—keeping you upright in your disoriented state. as she finished off the last of the joint, you looked out at the woods behind melissa's house. the trees seemed closer to you now, and you felt like reaching out and touching the branches as they danced in the wind.
"honey?" melissa's soft voice echoed in your head and you turned to face her. her eyes seemed to swirl and sparkle like emerald pools. but there was also a dark edge to them, reminding you of the beckoning woods.
"let's go for a walk."
...
though it wasn't your typical pastime, you quite liked walking while high. your legs moved on autopilot, and you could hardly feel them carrying you across the dark earth. there was a walking path through the woods behind melissa's house. you strolled side-by-side with the older woman, leaning on her for support when your balance failed you.
"mel, look!" you grabbed her hand and stopped on the path, your other hand pointing up to the sky. "it's a full moon! pretty, right?"
"beautiful..." melissa responded, not at all looking at the moon. her gaze was fixed on your face, which seemed to glow under the moonlight. when her finger stroked the back of your hand absently, you shivered and looked back at her. the expression on her face was soft, even peaceful. with her mouth forming a half-smile and her eyes slightly unfocused, it seemed like she had finally dropped her guard. realizing she had been caught staring, melissa quickly pivoted.
"i always liked the sun better, though," she said as you both resumed walking. the moon's shine weakened then, as if obscured by a cloud. melissa stole a glance at you, noticing how your hair looked a shade darker in the dimmer light. she wanted to stroke it, hold it up to all different colors of light and watch its hues and highlights change.
"huh. why?" you wondered aloud. melissa considered your question a while before answering.
"because you can't run from it," melissa said plainly. "i never liked hidin' in the shadows. you can do that at night. but then the sun comes up, and it's bright and warm, and you can't stay down. you gotta wake up and be somebody."
you heard her words in every corner of your head, her deep voice flowing through you. maybe you were high, but there seemed to be a strong force—almost like gravity—pulling you towards melissa. not just physically, but mentally. you wanted to tell her how smart she was, how charming and powerful and fucking sexy. you wanted to tell her that she was the sun burning brightly at the center of your world.
unfortunately, in your hazy headspace, you couldn't find the words to express all this to her. but you sure tried.
"and the sun is hot and fiery, like you," you almost whispered the last two words, but melissa caught them. she brushed off the compliment with a low laugh and a squeeze of your hand, still clasped in hers.
"sure, hon," she murmured. then you started to feel the stirrings of a rainstorm. cold droplets of water kissed your head and ran down your torso, and you looked to melissa for guidance. by now, you two were pretty far from melissa's house; you'd need to head back soon to avoid getting soaked.
melissa gave you a nod and you both began to run back towards the house, the wind howling in your ears and water beating steadily on your joined hands.
to be continued...
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werecreature-addicted · 2 months
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Would the sparkling vampires have been reacted to differently if written by a better author? Possibly
I feel like the main reason (imo) for why the sparkling is hated on so much though is that the reveal of it just feels so ridiculous. Like edward claiming he’s a monster or whatever and then proceeds to reveal his shimmery 6 pack is….unconvincing at best
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og tags on this post for anyone who hasn't seen it
Excellent question anon. If you think about it there are a lot of silly things we associate with vampires.
Exhibit A: the classic widow's peak black hair and dramatic cape
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look at it with fresh eyes and imagine seeing this for the first time, goofy. silly even. but this style of vampire was iconized by Bella Ligosi's performance as Dracula in Dracula 1931 which is of course very good and a staple in vampire cannon as well as just culture in general. It's good and it's old which lends it an air of authority. whereas Twilight is new(ish) and bad so it's artistic changes and creative choices are fighting an uphill battle already, add in the fact that Vampires Sparkling is a little ridiculous and you can see why so many people dismiss Twilight's vampires outright.
This post is so long continued under the cut
Now I am a Twilight fan and I think Twilight is very bad in a lot of ways, the two ideas are not mutually exclusive. Twilight however is a fascinating case study in cultural knowledge and mythos. Stephanie Meyer informally did very little research about Vampire Cannon, if you can call it that, before writing Twilight (link to an interview where she mentions it) so instead of being carefully constructed world-building based on hard rules and strict internal logic, the vampires are kind of loosely defined shadows based on the broadest understanding of what a vampire is. They're dead, they drink blood, they don't go out in sunlight. Some other popular vampire staples go addressed but dismissed as myth (garlic and having no reflection) but then things like The vampires in Twilight don't have fangs and have weird additional supper powers sometimes go just completely taken for granted and not really expanded upon in a satisfying way.
This style of world-building and magic system has a tendency to chafe against readers who have a more in-depth context for vampires and Meyre's more simplistic writing style makes the text come off as juvenile and perhaps a little dumb.
All this to say the sparkling vampires are not handled super well. It is a very large jump from what most readers would expect to see from a vampire story and it is handled inconsistently at best in the text itself. Meyer describes the vampires in the sun both as A beautiful glittering like that of a diamond, and a reflection of light so intense that it looks like the vampire is being burned alive in the sun.
these two conflicting descriptions coupled with the again simplistic and juvenile writing style makes it seem more like a mistake you should roll your eyes at rather than an intentional complexity to read into. I'd argue that Bella sees this inhumanity as beautiful and alluring while Edward sees it as a curse and a reminder of his monstrous nature and therefore disgusting. That being said I don't fault anyone for not wanting to read that deeply into the vampire glittering and instead see it as the author trying to have her cake and eat it too, something Meyers does frequently throughout even just the first Twilight novel.
Not even to mention the movies.
Exhibit B: this is the skin of a killer Bella.
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This is prima facie hilarious and stupid. the juxtaposition of the soft glittering effect and the chiming sound in this scene coupled with the seemingly unwarranted disgust is so fucking funny. which is not the tone this scene is going for. it's supposed to be tense, it comes off as corny instead.
Then there is the hate mob that dominated Twilight discourse when it first came out. I will not get into how much of that hate was warranted, what I'm interested in is how much of a cultural impact it had. There was, at least in the beginning, a large group of people who hated Twilight and would hate anything that came from it simply because it came from Twilight. These people grabbed onto the sparkly vampire thing and made it what it is today, these people were never going to be won over by any artistic liberty no matter what.
So to answer your question, I think that if a writer with a more in-depth understanding of vampires and a clearer vision of the magic system wrote Twilight with a more mature tone and more time given to expanding on just the vampire's powers and limitations, and the movies followed these hypothetical books more closely AND if there was never an anti-Twilight coultral movement. then yeah maybe Vampires sparkling wouldn't be seen as the dumbest shit ever.
thank you for coming to my Twilight Ted talk.
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On the Open Water
Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)
Warnings: This is entirely based on the character from the movie and is not meant to disrespect the real person or their families/ experiences.
Description: Joe takes Sadie out for a boat ride. Yes, this is heavily influenced by the scene from the movie. All credit goes to the original writers of the script for the idea.
Boys in the Boat Masterlist
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The first time she'd laid eyes on the tall figure that was Joe Rantz, her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flushed red. Thankfully, he'd been distracted by his crew who were crowded around him as they walked out to the water. She'd heard about the junior boat, they were one of the hottest topics on campus at the moment - that the 8 of them had managed to beat out so many others was remarkably impressive.
Joe was tall, broad-shoulder and muscular in a way that she'd never seen. His blonde hair looked golden in the afternoon sunshine and he had a laugh that echoed easily in the air. It was plain as day that he was very, very handsome. She allowed herself a few blissful moments to watch as he walked away, but forced herself to turn back to her homework that was due the very next day.
The second time Sadie saw Joe Rantz was at a school-sanctioned party after he and his crew won their first race. She'd been doing her best to keep her gaze from where he was sitting, but considering the party was in their honor, it was hard not to let her attention wander back to him. Joe was seated between Roger Davis and George "Shorty" Hunt at a circular table just off to the side of the area that had been marked off for the dance floor.
Roger and Shorty were leaning close to Joe, shoving his shoulders a bit and whisper-yelling at him as he shook his head, a red flush tinting his cheeks.
Sadie was sitting comfortably at her own table surrounded by some of her roommates who had become some her best friends. Lily and Angela were laughing as they slowly drank the colorful cocktails in their chilled glasses - the only refuge from the increasingly hot room.
"What do you think, Sadie?" Lily asked her, drawing her attention away from the men of the hour. Lily had always been the more outgoing of their bunch, blonde and as beautiful as she was she drew men to her as easily as she breathed the air around them.
Angela was equally gorgeous with long hair that trailed down her back and dark as a raven's wing. Her lips were always painted bright red in contrast to her bright white teeth. She was incredibly smart, witty, and was always making them laugh with some sort of remark made just under her breath.
Sadie smiled, tucking a loose piece of curled hair behind her ear. "What do I think about what?"
Angela and Lily shared a glance, smirking at one another, "About how Joe Rantz has been glancing over at you every few minutes since he saw you sitting there."
"He has not," She protested. Her eyes widened as she took in their honest expressions and twisted, smug lips. "Really," she continued, "I doubt he knows I'm here. What is more likely is that he's looking at one of you."
Lily shook her head, "Looks like we're about to find out."
"What do you mean?" Sadie asked, turning her head to follow the direction of Lily's quirked brow. Joe Rantz had begun to stand from his seat and George was patting him heartily on his shoulder, while Roger looked straight in the direction of their table. He was leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together and grinning like the cat that caught the canary.
Joe's eyes caught hers, eyeing the red that crept into her cheeks for a split second before she looked away from him. Casting worried looks at her friends, "He's not coming this way, is he?"
Sadie was not as confident as Lily or as quick-witted as Angela, but she was enthusiastically kind and had a heart twice as large as anyone else. She prided herself on seeing the best in others even though most times she couldn't quite see the best in herself.
Lily and Angela didn't answer, instead they made to stand giving her a supportive thumbs-up before hurrying away from the table. Angela winking at her and her giving her a large smile.
The sound of footsteps nearing the table drew her attention away from her giggling friends. Sadie felt distinctly aware of every hair out of place on her head and the dampness at the small of her back from the heat of the room.
"Hello," Joe's baritone sounded next to her and Sadie looked up into startlingly, clear blue eyes in answer. His blonde hair was combed neatly atop his head and his mouth was softened into a small, hesitant smile. "My name's Joe - Joe Rantz."
She offered him her hand in greeting and he extended his much larger hand to accept it. "It's nice to meet you," she smiled, proud of how she held her voice steady in front of the man she'd been admiring from afar.
Sadie offered him her own name, which he repeated softly, almost to himself. He seemed to be testing the way it tasted on his lips and she couldn't deny the butterflies that took flight in her stomach at hearing him swirl her name around inside of his mouth.
She gestured towards one of the empty seats in an offer for him to sit down. Joe hesitated, eyes downcast before flicking back up to hers, "I was actually wondering if, maybe, you might want to dance with me?"
Sadie's smiled encouragingly, "I'd love to."
Accepting his outstretched hand, she let him lead her to the dance floor. Where he pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the steadiness of his body against her own nervous one. Her heart was beating so hard that she could feel it in her fingertips and she glanced up at his face to determine if he could hear it.
Instead, she caught a look that was a little bashful and incredulous as he pulled her slightly closer than one might a friend. She stepped forward to make it easier for him, delighting in the red that grew at the tips of his ears.
The third time she saw Joe Rantz was beneath her window.
"What are you doing?" She asked, laughing as she pushed the window open.
He was beautiful in the moonlight, eyes wide in excitement and a broad grin taking over his face. "Do you want to go on a boat ride?" He looked up at her expectantly, no trace of any expectation that she would say no.
"Right now?" Sadie asked, voice full of laughter.
He shrugged, "Sure, why not."
She laughed, "I'll be right down." She hurried into her shoes, flinging her door open and ignoring the questions from Lily and Angela. She half-ran and half-stumbled her way down two flights of stairs to the door where Joe waited for her.
"Hi," she greeted, breathless as she pushed the door open.
Joe's grin was brighter than she'd ever seen. He reached for her and she stepped easily into his reach, one of his hands trailing down her arm to her hand which he took in his own. "Follow me," he said, leading her forward.
He must've already been to the University's shell house, because he led her to the dock where he had a small row boat tied securely. He offered her his arm and she climbed into the boat with unsteady legs.
Joe climbed in after her, the very picture of grace and set them off. The water was calm around them and as Joe rowed them away from shore, the symphony of the open water at night performed for them. Swirling water and soft breezes smelling of fresh spring flowers, carrying with it the smell of Joe's cologne.
She turned her head towards him and found his blue eyes already staring at her.
"You're going to row us into something if you don't pay attention to where we're going," she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.
Joe smirked, his expression the picture of confidence. "Of the two of us, remind me who has more experience out on the water," his voice drew her attention down to his lips, which morphed into something of a smug grin as he caught her slip.
Sadie glanced up quickly. "Obviously, it's me," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder pretending to have all of the confidence in the world.
Joe laughed softly next to her and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.
He stopped rowing, letting the current take hold once they were in the middle of the water and the boat began to drift slowly as it did.
"Do you like rowing?" Sadie asked, studying his expression. It was mostly hidden from her but as he tilted his head in contemplation the light from the moon illuminated him in a silver glow.
"I'm getting a job out of it," he shrugged. His voice took on a nonchalant tone but his eyes gave away his enjoyment for the sport.
Sadie nudged him with her shoulder, "You seem to be pretty good at it."
"Do I?" Joe smiled, blue eyes twinkling.
Sadie nodded, "You boys are going to become famous with the skill you have in your boat. Just wait, you'll see that I'm right and you'll forget all about me."
She turned her face away from him, not wanting to show him the expression that was likely painting her face.
Joe's calloused hand slid a long her cheek, gently guiding her gaze back to him. "I don't think I could forget you if I tried," he whispered, his voice so low she was sure she could only hear him because he was so close.
Her gaze dropped down to his soft lips again before flicking back up to his eyes. Joe didn't wait a moment and leaned forward, gently pressing their mouths together.
His lips were warm and so very soft against her own. He tasted of salt and something distinctly Joe that she ached for more of. She reached her own hand up, gliding her hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer.
He groaned softly into her mouth and twisted his head, deepening their kiss. Using the hand that wasn't caressing her face, he gripped onto her waist, just holding her softly against him.
She cursed herself for pulling away first but her lungs were begging her for oxygen. They stayed close, resting their foreheads against one another. Joe's breath kissed the apples of her cheek as he exhaled.
"We should probably get back to the dorms before someone notices I'm gone," she whispered.
"I'll row us back," Joe hummed in agreement, though his hands remained where they were. "But, one more kiss couldn't hurt."
His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded as he looked at her, waiting for her permission.
Sadie slid her hand back into his soft, blonde hair and if they shared a few more kisses than their only witnesses were the full moon above them and the open water that surrounded them.
A/N: Would anyone be interested in reading any more about Sadie and Joe?
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mirrorsmoonlight · 6 months
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☆ ~ i know they’re losing
pairing: platonic!mizzen x mentor!reader summary: for the last assignment of the year you and the other top 23 students of the academy were assigned a tribute to turn into a spectacle for the watchers; you just wished you didn’t get the young boy with such soulful eyes. warnings: canon death, second person, scenes used from the movies (besides some changes I made) based on the song ‘i bet on loosing dogs’ by mitski
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my baby, my baby
you’re my baby, say it to me
the first time you looked into those soulful eyes were when they were filled with tears, the emotional distress not hidden from watching eyes of the capital who only smirked and chuckled at the illuminating picture.
“district 4 male tribute, goes to (name) (last name),” you could vaguely hear the giggles coming off your classmates at your misfortune but you payed no mind, only looking at the bottom of the screen where it held his name; Mizzen.
baby, my baby
tell your baby that i’m your baby
you decided that the best way to gain his trust would be by proving yourself. so here you were, on the platform waiting for the district 4 tributes to be escorted out of their section of the train with a couple bottles of water and an assortment of wrapped goods.
when they did, the first that stepped out was festus’s tribute—radiating a threatening aura that almost made you back off—before mizzen popped his head out which made your confidence spike, knowing you would take your chances with coral if that meant keeping him fed.
“excuse me,” your voice was soft and your touch even softer as you tried to get the attention of the peacekeepers escorting them, at first not even gathering their attention but the two tributes instead which caused them to stop in their place.
the men clad in grey looked towards what gathered their attention, making them stop in annoyance, your crimson academy uniform alerting them of a possible reason you’d be here.
glad you had gotten the recognition you needed you hastily stumbled out the words before they were transported into the other car waiting just a few feet away, “i brought something for my tribute, i would like for them to have it before they’re taken away.”
despite their obvious reluctance they knew you came from a family that held a high place in society, which meant if they didn’t oblige they could possibly loose their job (if you decided to be petty), so they hesitantly gave you a nod which caused a smile of appreciation to bloom on your face.
quickly, you pulled out two wrapped sandwiches—grilled cheese and turkey—and a bottle of water before making your way infront of mizzen who coral was ultimately guarding, “i didn’t know what you liked, but i know this is better than starving.”
and when mizzen didn’t immediately grasp your offerings, you shot a look to coral trying your best to show you didn’t mean any harm, hoping to persuade her so she could lower her guard on him. there was a prolonged pause before she stepped away, mizzen eagerly grabbing the food before looking up at you.
you smiled at him one last time before leaning close to his ear to whisper to him, “i’ll come find you again soon to bring you more food. i’ll see you later, alright?”
and as the peacekeepers led them into the cattle car you could almost make out the childish smile he shot your way in thanks.
i bet on losing dogs
i know they’re losing and i pay for my place
by the ring
his form was jittery as you entered the arena, his eyes consuming every inch of the place where his body would take it’s last breaths if he didn’t emerge as the victor. the swirling thoughts in his brain making him oblivious to the fact that he had desperately grasped onto your hand.
at first, shock coursed through your body but seeing the far-away look in his eyes you let him grasp onto you for comfort, gently leading him around the arena as you scoped out for places he could hide or when he needed it to have the advantage.
only minutes after, your attention was averted to the shakiness under your legs just before a burst of dust tumbled down. immediately taking action, you tugged on the hand you were holding so you could lead him to safety, completely disregarding yours…disregarding that a piece of debris was coming right for you.
the impact was rough, causing your hands to break apart as the rubble casted it’s weight over your legs. but when he looked back with fear in his eyes all you did was call out to him to run.
and when your eyes were slipping shut, the last thing you saw was mizzen desperately fighting the peacekeepers hold as he called out for them to help you.
where i’ll be looking in their eyes when their down
i’ll be there on their side
all you could do was watch from the screen as the holographic snakes broke out of their confinements and slithered across the dirtied arena floor. mizzen’s pace slowing for just a second as exhaustion finally caught up to him, unknowingly giving the snakes an open opportunity for another kill. tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave consumed his body.
the venom was quick to kill most of his nerves, enough that instead of seeing coral looking back at him he saw you. a desperate plea leaving his lips in his final moments, “(name!!)”
i’m losing by their side
“and there goes merciless mizzen!” lucky flickerman excitedly announced, “have a good summer (last name)!”
you hastily got up from your chair, head up high until you were fully out of everyone’s view. only to quickly cover your mouth to quell the beginning of your anguished sobs, as you stood alone outside—those soulful eyes now dark and void of life.
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© mirrorsmoonlight. don’t translate or repost my works on any platform. dec 23 2023.
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venbetta · 3 months
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Based on a dream I had the other night...
Dream below the cut...
I was on the school bus and talking to my irl friend Alex. We had gotten off the bus and were walking through my neighborhood when we found my dog Taffy just wandering around.
How did he get loose ? Who knows.
I wasn't happy about it. I don't think anyone of my family was home, so he must've gotten out somehow. Taffy then just took off across the road, but I managed to catch him. Alex had to walk to his neighborhood anyways so I escorted the two over to the next complex.
We had agreed that Alex was going to watch over Taffy for the time being. I'm not sure why. It was at that point that I recognized that I was dreaming, seeing how weird the neighborhood looked and the layout of the buildings not making sensa. I thanked Alex for taking Taffy in.
I told him something like, "I'm off to continue this dream hah.."
And then it's like I remembered the rule of never saying that it's a dream out loud, cuz two girls who I figured were from our school immediately looked over at me with annoyance.
As I approached, I noticed the sky got dark and cloudy, like a storm was coming. Those two girls still looked at me with an odd look, and I realized what I had said.
I corrected myself, "Just kidding, I'm off to go home to my loving husband and baby." Their faces went back to normal as they nodded and smiled, and then the screen went to black as if it transitioned to the next scene. I was entering my home.
I had a weird ass baby. It didn't have a noise and it had alien like eyes. But It was my baby, so I went along with it. I was happy to be "home", opening some presents. Then, glamrock freddy returned home, saying "Honey I'm home." He was, in fact, my husband.
I have a vague recollection of [Online friend] being somewhere in the house... I think he was babysitting the weird ass baby and went to put it to bed. After that, Freddy and I were alone.
He talked about treating me to dinner and then to a game of fazerblast. I was interested, he gave the eyes bruh.
Then there was a production scene of the fnaf movie going on in our living room, Mathew Lillard was in costume reciting his lines from the spring lock scene with the fnaf 1 animatronics. I kinda felt the dream slip from me pretty fast afterwards and I woke up.
What I find funny is that the dream referenced this...
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This dream will forever be called "the weird ass baby" dream...
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