#maybe they'll just get it out of their systems today?
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non-un-topo · 10 months ago
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Was extremely excited about my "female masculinities & queer genders" class but it turns out it's entirely cis women complaining about men
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booasaur · 4 months ago
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Something really amazing happened in France, and I think it'd help us in the US to learn about it. Forgive the long read, but I think this is genuinely great both because of what happened and how.
So as some of you might have seen, in a decision historians will debate for years (mostly to figure out just WTF he was thinking, even though he is alive right now and can be asked), the French president, Emmanuel Macron, currently in power and THREE YEARS before the scheduled election, seeing the far right rise in popularity decided to dissolve the assembly and hold snap elections.
577 seats were up for grabs. Remember that number. Since half of that is 288.5, 289 seats are needed for a majority.
The first round happened last week and boy, was it bad. The far right made HUGE gains. It won or was in first place in so many races. And Macron's party ended up third!
Overall, this is how things ended up after the first round:
Far right bloc: 33%
Left bloc: 28%
Macron's centrist party: 20%
Conservatives: 7%
The way the French system works is that if a candidate gets over 50% of the vote, they win outright, and some of the far right did manage that. But, many races went to a runoff.
Immediate projections after were that the far right bloc might win anywhere from 240 to 310 seats, a catastrophe.
A shameful swing to the far right leading to the first time they'll be in power since the 1940s? Yes, but maybe not??
This is where things get interesting.
Unusually, a lot of these runoffs are 3-way, instead of a simpler 2-way choice. And in pretty much every case, that helps the far right.
So on June 30th, the night of the first round, this is how things went down:
Immediately, the left parties put out the call: anywhere they were third, they withdrew and their voters would go over to whoever was running against the far right candidate. Their goal: form a "republican front" to block the far right. The far right cannot get 289 seats.
Macron's bloc was not so...motivated. Different people put out different instructions: in some places, if they were third, they should drop out, but only to help the center left, not far left, in other places, see how far you are, only then drop out, that kind of thing.
The conservative party simply said they won't drop out and won't give their voters instruction either way in races they're not involved in.
Late night developments:
More people in Macron's party are now beginning to realize the situation and starting to coalesce around whichever candidate can beat the far right one. Prime Minister Gabriel Attal, from Macron's party, says clearly the priority is to block the far right. BUT, some Macron spokespeople on TV say they'll form a coalition only with the center left and conservatives, splitting the left bloc if needed. Some individual Macronists still saying they won't drop out, even if there's no hope of winning.
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Lol.
So, now July 1st:
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Only half so far. In one race, where the sister of Marine Le Pen (the far right leader and the face of their movement) was leading, the third place Macronist refused to bow out.
Excellent quote from another Macronist:
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Perhaps realizing the same thing, that Macronist in the race against the Le Pen sister now drops out.
In some places, third place Macronists are dropping out DESPITE Macron bewilderingly telling them NOT to?
Halfway through the day:
Of the 311 3-way or 4-way runoffs, the number is down to 135 because of these candidates dropping out: 121 Left, 56 Macronists, 1 conservative.
Oh, there was this, in case people had any doubts about how terrible the far right are:
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And to show the selflessness of the left:
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July 2:
The deadline to decide if they want to stay in a runoff is today.
A dozen new third place Macronists who said they'd stay in have now dropped out. One got a call from both the PM Attal AND Macron to drop out, signalling the dawning understanding of the importance of this moment.
Even some conservative party members are now backing the left candidate who faces the far right.
A Macronist who had 30.55% of the vote in the first round and came in third to the far right's 33.11% and left's 32.73% and who would have been tempted to stay has dropped out.
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The deadline to stay in or not has now passed.
Look at these far right shenanigans!
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Macron still being a freaking loser:
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July 3rd:
In the end, of the 311 3- or 4-way run offs, only 91 left. Some polls come out that have the far right getting between 190 to 220 seats.
July 4th:
New polls say the balance of the voting itself isn't transferring between the left and center and predictions have risen for the far right, now predicted to get between 210 and 250 seats.
July 5th:
New polls again, left voters now predicted to do better transferring vote to the centrists, decreasing the far right projections again.
However, scandalous reporting emerges: while Attal was trying to fend off the far right, Macron was not only NOT taking the far right seriously, he was undermining efforts to defeat them. His team shrugged off the first round results and celebrated a BIRTHDAY as the results were still coming in?
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July 6th:
A few runoffs happened yesterday, nothing much unexpected, some left and center wins.
July 7th:
The day of reckoning. At this point, the expectations are that the far right won't come close to that 289 number but could still easily have the most seats.
GUYS.
It's over and the left are in the lead!
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A LOT of cases where a leftist or centrist was 2nd in the first round and now won.
Amazing:
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SO many lessons to take from this.
First, you have to vote! You have to. You can't do anything without voting. The freaking French, who'll protest for anything, are showing up to vote. If you're trying to achieve any kind of result and it's not going to happen by January 2025, you have to vote now.
But just as importantly, the left and center (and even conservative) parties made very key decisions. They were all lucky that Attal, who Macron chose, saw the big picture, bigger than indeed Macron could. A stupid selfish centrist leader could have still ruined everything if it were up to him.
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TL;DR: After a disastrous first round in the national French elections where the far right was on the cusp of taking power, the left and center formed a strong coalition and through the power of voting and unity, overcame the far right AND their selfish centrist president to win.
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months ago
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Ecto-Specialist
Danny Fenton gets sent by his parents as a Fenton Ecto-Specialist at the request of the Justice League. They would have gone themselves, but unfortunately, every other Fenton had come down with the flu.
Danny was happy about his ghost immune system because this meant he could present Ghosts in a much more favorable light. He left behind all his parents' weapon blueprints and research reports.
He switched them out with his PowerPoint, ghost notes, and interviews he managed to obtain from the friendlier spiris. He arrived to the Hall of Justice, was given a special access pass and was told to set up in a board room.
He nervously plugged everything in, smooth down his suit, and practiced his speech. He's given presentations before, but they have always been school assignments. It was still nerve-wracking, but at least everyone else had to give the exact same topic for the same five to six minutes requirement.
Here, he was going to speak before some of the best heroes of the world to convince them that ghosts were sentiment. To prove they should have rights.
No pressure.
"Hello, I'm Danny Fenton. I'm going to speak about Ecto-beings and their vast culture within the Infinite Realms, " He says to the empty chairs. He pauses for a moment before, as if though he was gathering the attention of a audience before pressing the clicker abd watching his slide move.
"What are Ecto-beings?" He makes a gesture, that he once saw Tim Drake do on TV. It was a smooth wrist roll that he thought look sophisticated. "They can come in all shapes and sizes. Some are naturally formed from their environment, others are born to Ecto-beings and a few or deceased spirits. But they all share a core build from ectoplasm. That's what classifieds them as-"
"Maybe start but explaining what ectoplasm is" a voice cuts him off. Danny is not proud of the high pitch scream that releases from his throat. He is even less proud that he jumps so badly, he ends up tripping over his feet and falling over.
Bell-like laughter, fills the air, and Danny swings his head to the doorway only to further choke on his spit. Standing there looking like a Greek god is Tim Drake.
The very person he was attempting to imitate.
"Are you the Fenton Works representative?" Drake asks, strutting in with a wink. "I'm here on Wayne Enterprises behalf. We may be doing a joint charity effort for Ecto-beings rights. I'm Timothy Drake. And you?"
"I ugh, I'm Danny. Ugh- Danny Fenton. My parents own Fenton Works." He scrambles to his feet, flushing dark red when Drake smiles. "I'm presenting today. I was um practicing?"
"You're doing great" Drake assures. "Just remember to not stand in front of the screen. You want people to ready your bullet points."
"Oh." Danny drags his podium over. He cringes when he realizes that causes it yo scrap against the floor, leaving two long lines.
Drake's grin widens. "It has wheels. You just press the little lever on the right"
Danny wants to die "right. Sorry"
"Nothing a wax machine can't fix." Drake tilts his head, studying his face before asking,"Want to get a quick coffee to calm your nerves? They sell a great brand in the cafeteria"
Danny rubs his hands "Coffee makes me more nervous but thank you"
Drake's smile flatters before it switches back. "Icecream then?"
"No thank you. I run cold naturally and ice cream makes it worse"
".....how about afterwards? We could go watch a moive? Dinner?"
"I would, but I'm supposed to stay in the hotel my parents rented for me. They'll know if I'm not."
The other teen nods and looks a bit disappointed. "Alright, you can't blame a guy for trying . Well, good luck with your practice. I'll be back in an hour for the presentation."
Dannybwaves goodbye, trying to slow his fluttering heart rate. He just spoke to Tim Drake! He can't wait to text Sam and Tucker.
It's only after re-running the presentation once, about thirty minutes later, that Danny jolts in place "HE WAS ASKING ME OUT?!"
"Who was?"
For the second time that day, Danny released a high pitch scream. It's much worse to find Wonder Woman fighting a amused smile standing in the doorway instead of a Teenage Hearttob.
He hasn't even started. Maybe he should have fake being sick, too.
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the-modern-typewriter · 10 months ago
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Hi there!ever since I saw you when I first installed tumblr it just keeps getting better. I was wondering if you can write something about a hero being the sucess of a lab and the villain being a failure(Bonus if the lab is actually evil) Don't feel pressured to do this though😗
"Do you know why I'm considered the success, instead of the failure like you?" the hero asked.
The villain sneered at them. They yanked and thrashed and struggled against the shimmering containment that wrapped around them, warping like a net from the hero's outstretched fingers, forcing them down against the cold concrete.
"Because you're a good, obedient little hero?"
The hero couldn't keep the damn trap up forever!
"Yes."
The simple response, the tone, startled the villain enough that they went temporarily still. Maybe that was the ploy. They stared at the hero through the hazy sheen of their powers, mockery draining from their face, panting for breath.
The hero had many things that the villain didn't: a body that wasn't screwed up, powers that weren't prone to out-of-control devastation, a generally sweet and more palatable disposition when it came to public relations.
And, of course, they did what they were told. The villain had never properly thought about that.
"It was their most important addition, after you...you know," the hero said, studying them. "The ability to control their experiments. To make sure that nothing like you would happen again."
A bad taste slowly flooded the villain's mouth. They shook their head.
The hero stepped forward, crouching down in front of the villain, on the other side of the containment wall. Up close, the villain got a good look at the vein snaking up the hero's wrist. The blood was just slightly the wrong colour; it made them look gorgeously healthy, radiant, compared to the sickly pallor the villain couldn't quite shake.
"If I stop taking the serum for my powers, I die," the hero said, keeping their voice light. "Quite horribly. But while the serum is in my system, I'm not in control. Not really. Everything I do is monitored. If I stray too far out..." The hero grimaced.
"Why are you telling me this?" the villain whispered.
"Because I can't do anything about it. I can't do anything about them. I signed up to do something good, to make the world better, and I..." The hero squeezed their eyes shut. "Well. I'm going to try and drag you back to them, aren't I? I'm going to hand you over to the people who hurt you, and then I'm going to make a speech telling everyone what a terrible, awful monster you are as if they don't deserve everything you give them. I'll smile while I'm doing it too."
The villain swallowed. They strained to press a hand up against the wall, but it only forced them back down against the ground harder. The villain's breath knocked out of them.
The hero winced. "Sorry."
"Isn't it better to be dead?"
"You didn't think so when you ran."
No. Maybe that had been an unfair question to ask. Still, the fury and the helplessness of it seared through the villain because ShieldCorp - they were going to get away with it. All of the others were dead! Even if they managed to expose what was really happening, ShieldCorp had the hero.
"I wanted to do something good too," the villain said, hollow. "It's not your fault they took advantage of that."
The hero shrugged. Their hand stayed perfectly steady.
"Are they listening to us now?"
"Probably."
"They'll be angry with you."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Me telling you this doesn't change anything, does it?"
"I thought you were like them. I hated you. It changes that."
The hero smiled, or something like it. It was too fragile, too wobbly, too shattered a thing compared to the beautiful thing they tossed out to the masses at every public appearance.
"I want to destroy them," the hero said. "But, when I let this force field drop so I can take you in properly, I'm going to need your help to do that. How are your powers feeling today?"
"Like I'm going to burn down the world."
The hero nodded, just once, and rose again. Silhouetted against the skyline, they looked unstoppable.
"Excellent," the hero said. "On the count of three, start with me."
The villain was ready when the containment dropped.
ShieldCorp was not.
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kyxhiin · 13 days ago
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Billy Is sick today, and maybe for the next few weeks. And the absolutely horrible ventilation in his apartment isn't helping. So he lies there on the mattress, basically rotting away.
It feels absolutely horrible. He can't sleep at all because of the many times he has to get up to barth, and most importantly he's been really sensitive. He can feel the old itchy sweater that he has on, his overgrown hair feels like needles pressing against his nape, hearing every single thing imaginable(not in the super hearing way, he's just sensitive to sound right now). Tears can't help but well up as he gets oddly emotional and overwhelmed.
He feels rotten to the core for not helping anybody. Skipping patrol was never the usual, and he was pretty sure he had a meeting with the JL today. Whatever, they'll be fine if he missed just one meeting right?
But on times like this he can only do so much to help his immune system. It'll pass on if he just waits it out. He can't do much more than hope he's okay after a day, there's only so much a kid can do on a sick day.
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minispidey · 1 year ago
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02: Barbie and the Giftshopist.
Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist. next part.
02. He's just Steven (and Marc, and Jake)
a/n: i'm not like fully knowledgeable of DID but i did some research! if u guys can give me some tips/ point out my mistakes, i'd be happy to hear it and edit. i just really do need some help 🙏🏻 i've never written a system before and i'd love to hear some advice
(series tags are open!) tags: @3zae-zae3
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"Morning, Stevie!" you started calling him Stevie not even a week after you moved in. Sure, he hates it when Donna calls him that, but god did it sound so beautiful when you say it.
You two walk out at the same time everyday, bothered by some of the sellers on the street blocking the door "Excuse us." you say as they made way for you and Steven. A vintage pink corvette was your way of transportation while Steven chooses the bus, but you weren't in a rush today "Stevie! I'll give you a ride. Get in."
Steven blushed, shaking his head "No no, it's fine, love." hearing him call you love made you accidentally kick your leg up. You stared confused at your leg before turning your head towards Steven again "Come on." you pouted.
"I'm serious— oh, bollocks." he drops his keys by accident "I'm alright."
You drove by his side slowly "Stevieee get in. I'm not letting you take the bus when I have a car."
"It's just-"
"Is it because it's pink?"
"No! No, not at all. I don't want to be a bother, that's all." he sighed.
"Steven. Get in." you pull down your sunglasses "I'm not taking a no for an answer."
"Yes, ma'am." seeing you so serious had him flustered. Maybe it's a weird kink he developed after knowing you were a lawyer.
He sat in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him before fixing your sunglasses "Okay! First stop, the museum."
Steven knew everyone's going to stare at your pink car. He just never expected so many people turning their heads towards you too. You were beautiful and radiated beauty and sunshine, you were an attention grabber.
He just imagines you in all pink in your firm, in a room filled with blue and black suits. He thought it was cute.
"Do you have like, a license? You can take my car on my days off."
"You don't have to." Steven shook his head "Really, you're too kind."
"It's alright! Whatever makes your life easier." you flashed him one of your bright smiles "I can drop you off every day if you wanna. I'm not as busy anyways."
"Take the offer, Steven. Beats having to cramp in every day." Marc says from the reflection of the right side mirror. Steven shook his head before turning towards you "It's fine, love."
"Come on. Rent's hell. Let me save you some commute money, okay? I may be fashionable, but I can be such a cheapskate-" the car comes to a sudden halt as you snap your head towards a shop window. Steven was pushed forward but thankfully held by the seatbelt "What's wrong?" he breathed out.
"What time do you have to go to work?"
"Before ten. Why?"
"It's eight. Do you mind making a short stop with me?"
Shop assistants surrounded you as you worked your magic "Ooh, and this one. Do you have it in pink?" you giggled as you slipped on another heel "Okay so like, the trick is to ignore the assistants." you whisper to Steven "They'll sell you anything in full price. Head straight to the expensive ones before slowly going to the ones on sale."
Steven nodded as he listened to the advice you gave. He felt a bit nervous as you spoke to the shop assistants, you seemed so confident as well. In contrast, Steven felt fairly awkward and he was just observing how you interacted with the people around you.
He was very intrigued by the way you were trying on shoes, the way you were talking about it with the shop staff— he couldn't explain what exactly it was that he found attractive about you, and it was slightly annoying him.
"Chica está loca..." Steven looks at the full-length mirror, Jake was staring right back at him. He raises an eyebrow at Jake "She's crazy. I've never met a girl who wears so much... pink."
Steven was about to talk back when you pull him to the counter, swiping your card and taking your shopping bags "Okay, so like, I got fourty percent off. I have a loyalty voucher." you two made your way back to your car, stuffing your bags in the back "Thanks for coming with me, Stevie. Well, you didn't have a choice anyways."
"It's alright, really. It was... fun." he smiled at you, getting inside the car "Never really shopped with anyone before."
"Really? Not even with friends?"
"Don't have any."
"Aw, how come? You're so fun to be with."
Steven's heart skipped a beat. He stared at you with bright eyes as you drove. He felt his face heat up. When he turns his head to face the side mirror, he finds Marc judging him.
"You've just met her, huh?"
"Shut it..." Steven mumbled under his breath, looking away from the mirror. He watched you, still smiling as you drove. It was like you weren't real, like you were too good to be true. If he had known years ago a woman like you existed, he would've searched for you everywhere. But you landed right outside his flat.
"I don't think I can pick you up after your work, training interns and all." you stopped near the steps "I'll see you later, Stevie."
"You don't have to, it's really okay." he blushed "I'll see you around, love." he got out of your car, looking back at you as he walked up the steps. You pushed your sunglasses down and waved back before driving away.
After an exhausting day, you drove back at 1 am. You shoved your files in the back seat with your shopping bags and rested your face, your signature smile falling from fatigue.
The streets of London were quiet, only the crickets' mating call filling the cold air. You rub your eyes, some of your mascara rubbing off "So tired..." you sighed as you turned the car to the right.
Though your sleepiness immediately went away when you spot a ridiculous ugly-patterned shirt. It was Steven walking back.
"This late?" you whispered to yourself. You sped up a bit to catch up with him "Stevie!" your cheery voice halted the quiet night.
His head turned towards you, a scowl displayed on his face. Though his eyebrows softened upon realizing it was you.
"Don't they have buses out late? You poor thing. Get in." you smiled as you unlocked your car, allowing him to enter.
"I should've totally given you my number. If I only knew you'd be out late like me I would've picked you up." you let out a yawn before continuing "I'm not that busy, I swear. Like, I'm a lawyer but I know how to manage my time."
As you went on and on, Steven just sat there and listened to you.
You parked your car and stepped out, trying to get all your shopping bags in one go. But Steven stepped in and helped "Aw, Stevie, thanks so much!" Steven looked exhausted too.
You talked more in the elevator, detailing how frustrating your day was at your firm before walking to your doors.
"-and he was like no and I was like totes! And he was like noooo and I was like, definitely!" you giggled "Whoever said orange is the new pink is totally disturbed."
You unlocked your door and let Steven in to set your bags down. He went to step out afterwards when you pulled on his sleeve "Thanks so much again, Stevie. You are like, too good to me. We should totally shop again some other time! Goodnight!" you placed a kiss on his cheek before closing your door.
He froze in place, staring at your door before unlocking his own door and getting in. He breathed in the cold air before walking to his fish tank, feeding the two fishes before his vision focused, looking at his reflection on the glass.
"Marc! What was that?!"
Marc looked back at Steven "It's nothing."
"Back off. I really like her, okay? There. I said it."
"You kissed my wife and your crush kissed me on the cheek."
"I said I was sorry."
Jake spoke up, appearing from a small mirror "You like her? Dios mío, that woman wears a lot of pink. What is it about her? Is it because of the car? I have a limousine."
"No! She's- she's really nice."
"Be more specific, amigo. Nice isn't how you like someone."
"Enough." Marc shakes his head "Steven, if you like her then go ahead. But just don't get attached."
"What do you mean?"
"I have Layla— we have Layla. I'm married to her. You can have a crush on your little neighbor, sure, but it's not like you can date her."
"Marc... come on, I have my own life... we have our own lives. What if I decide I want to date her? What if I really really like her, you know?"
"I don't know." he sighed, scratching his eyebrow "It's gonna be complicated, you know that."
Steven let out a sigh, looking down "I-I know... but I just... I just really like her."
Jake on the other hand was deep in this own thoughts. Marc heads to bed when Jake fronts, taking over the body. He cracks his neck before walking out and knocking on your door.
You were just about to take off your makeup when you head his knock. Your fluffy pink slippers squeaked as you made your way to the door, opening it "Stevie? Did you miss me already?" you giggled.
"Do you want to go out with me?" Jake put on his best performance, speaking in a kind of shy British accent.
"Out? Like, a date?" you blinked twice.
"Yes."
Jake understood now. He saw the way your eyes sparkled and your blinding smile "Oh my gosh, yes!" you squealed before covering your mouth, looking side to side across the halls, worried you might've woken up your neighbors "Yes. Let's go out. Uh, maybe lunch? I'm free."
"That's alright with me." he nodded.
"Alright." you couldn't help but smile like a fool "Goodnight, Stevie."
"Goodnight..."
After closing your door, you silently screamed, jumping up and down in excitement. Your exhaustion suddenly disappears as you start planning out your outfit for the morning.
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krispdreemurr · 10 months ago
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At first, she's not sure she's even hearing the notes.
They're distant and quiet. Even with her earbuds out, she has to strain to hear anything at all. The notes keep faltering before she can be sure what she's listening to.
She sets aside her notebook and moves out into the hall.
As she starts the walk to the dining room, she can hear them more clearly. It's definitely the piano in the side room, she's sure on that now. But the song...
The song is just the first few notes and chords, again and again, played clumsily and haltingly. There's jarring dissonant edges, and the rhythm is unsteady.
If the tune weren't so familiar, she'd have no idea at all.
(In front of her, or with family, they'd play things she knew - classical music, adaptations of songs from video games or Asriel's anime, more than a few Rickrolls.)
(It was only when they were alone that they'd play the same few songs, simpler melodies that she never heard anywhere else before or after.)
She reaches the doorway, gazing in through the open door.
The room is dimly lit, the moonlight through the windows providing most of the illumination. They're framed against an open window, a silhouette bent over the piano. She watches, silent, as they drag their hand down the keys, press down too hard and get a jarring burst of sound.
She remembers how they used to play. Fluid, graceful. It was the only time she ever really saw them comfortable in their own skin.
That's gone, now.
"Kris...?" she asks softly, stepping through the door.
The next part, at least, is familiar. They stare at her, wide-eyed, looking half-panicked. Hands frozen.
Despite herself, she tries to smile, glancing at the open window. "You know, I'm pretty sure dad gave you a spare key."
They stare a moment more, then laugh, hoarse and tired. Some of the tension bleeds. "Yeah, but breaking in through the window is cooler."
"You're just lucky I forgot how to set up the alarm system..." She steps closer, hooves clicking on hardwood. "It's one AM, Kris. Why are you here? Not that, um, you can't visit, just--"
There's a long silence, where they just stare at their hands on the keys. They're shaking, she realizes.
"Sorry," they say finally. "It was a stupid idea. I just--miss it. And the hospital is closed to visitors. I just wanted to, to at least try... Even if I know I can't any more, not like this." Another ragged laugh. This one has less humor. "Sorry. I'll go."
She looks at them a few moments more.
Maybe she should push more. Ask them what they mean by "like this", demand explanations for why they've been so weird lately, reprimand them for breaking in. She remembers them nine years old and coughing without end, begging her not to tell their mom and dad. She remembers how they drew away in the days after the accident, and how quiet they've been ever since. She knows they shut down, hide, conceal themself. She knows.
But she's tired too, and if she pushes they'll run, and she's lost so much already.
"Can I listen?" she says instead.
They blink, once, then shrug. "Sure, yeah... You wanna sit outside like old times? Think I can handle an audience for the world's worst concert, but..."
"No, I'd rather stay." She goes to settle down in the corner, folding her legs. "I never got to see you play much back then."
"Well, you're not going to see much today," they say dryly.
Their fingers linger a moment more, shuffling uncertainly and stiffly, trying to find purchase--
And then they play.
It's still halting and awkward, marred by misplaced notes and stilted pauses. It's nothing like it was, back when they were something not quite like friends and not quite like family.
But still, still--
Still she closes her eyes, and she listens once again.
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hyunnieshannie · 11 months ago
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Suspended | KSM
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🖤: Seungmin x AFAB Reader 🖊️: 10k 🖼️: Check out the Mood Board! 🚨: Teacher AU, unprotected sex, use of sextoys, bdsm themes - rope play/impact play/blindfolds/handcuffs, choking, edging (so much edging i practically edged myself while writing the smut-K), cumming multiple times, pet names (angel/pup & sir), sexual harassment in the workplace, use of light system (reader uses: yellow), crying (from overwhelming amounts of pleasure *wink wonk*), corruption kink if you squint - methinks that's it, if we missed anything please let us know- If you think we proofread this, no we didn't - M ♡: I hope you all know this took us SEVEN MONTHS to write- WHY did it take us Seven months? WHO KNOWS?? But it did. LIKE LOOK AT THIS SCREENSHOT THAT WAS WHEN WE STARTED THIS. anyways We hope you enjoy our little teacher Seungmin one shot. Please Reblog and let us know what you thought <3
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There's something both satisfying and annoying about teaching and shaping the young minds of the new generation. Sure, you’re someone who most kids look up to. You have the honor of making an impact on their lives. Maybe they'll remember you in the future, maybe not. Either way, you're ultimately the one who helped prepare them for life outside of these high school walls you teach within. As much as you revel in this fact now, high school was a place you never wanted to return to. Within the walls of the high school live rowdy, unhinged, chaotic minds mixed with a splash of calm, put-together minds; and that only explains the student body. 
The staff on the other hand, well they’re on another level of unhinged and chaotic, though somehow put together enough to be able to contain themselves and careful to never unleash those thoughts on another member of staff- for obvious reasons. Sexual harassment claims, being fired over the smallest of flirting, let alone the fact that if anything escalated beyond such, you could expect the cops to parade you through the halls, with the curious eyes of the students all watching as you’re taken away. In any case, it was always best to stay away from any sort of relationship with a coworker. No matter what. 
Students, on the other side of the spectrum, never hid their relationships. You couldn’t count how many times you’d found students making out against their hallway lockers, running off to do god-knows-what in the staircase at the back of the school- or worse, when you’d be called to explain why student A and student B are being suspended, after being caught having sex in the washroom. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days. 
The two students sitting directly in front of you seemed to show zero hint of remorse,  for, quite literally, being caught in the act during the middle of second period. Could they really not wait until after classes? It wasn’t until both sets of parents had filed into the room that the students began to look embarrassed. “Welcome,” you sighed as you arose from your seat to shake the parents' hands. They were agitated, clearly disappointed and rightfully so. You didn’t get too graphic about the details of the suspension, as the printed notice would detail everything anyway. The parents read over everything carefully.
The father of student A scowled at his son. “I’m sorry for the actions of my son,” He muttered, as he ripped his son from the chair he sat on. “This is beyond unacceptable and we will make sure he has learned his lesson.” Their verbal assault launched as your student was dragged through the somewhat empty school and you just barely caught the words "embarrassment" and "disgrace" as their voices faded down the halls. Student B sat quietly as she watched her mother read through the printout. Signing her name and passing the flimsy sheet of paper to her daughter to sign, in acknowledgement for her wrongdoings, they spoke not a word, but the anger radiating from them was enough indication that she would receive a thorough talking once out of the eyes of the school's principal and yourself. 
It was, undoubtedly, one of the longest days of the year. Not that there was any reasonable explanation, such as a time change or anything. No- it was simply just a day full of students who had decided that this particular day would be the best to ‘act up’. You often wondered why students who were caught by you seemed to think they would magically get away with their actions. Why your students lacked basic respect for you until the moment you smacked down the hammer, clearly marking the line between friendship and an authority figure. Sure, you’re one of the younger teachers in the school, but none of the others seemed to have this issue with their students. Hell, even the two students from just now thought they were merely getting a slap on the wrist for their actions- never expecting you to follow through with your threat of calling their parents in. Did they truly not expect you to do so? Could they really have thought you’d just speak to them, and tell them a small ‘Don’t do it again’? 
As you meandered through the empty halls of the school, you wondered why you had even taken up this job. You had barely finished your degree and mostly hoped to be working with children of elementary age. Children, though energetic and clumsy, still seemed like less work than a class full of twenty-eight, moody teenagers all in the age range of fifteen to sixteen. Somehow an elementary school still seemed like it would have more order than this mess of a high school. You know the curriculum, you’re a good teacher- Credit where credit is due, and surely you deserved it. When your students did in fact listen- instead of making snarky remarks about you that they thought you wouldn’t hear- they would pass tests and exams with flying colors. So what was it you were doing oh-so-wrong to deserve passing comments such as ‘Can I get your number?’  or the boy's new favorite ‘Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?’
The moment you reached the faculty room, you threw yourself on the couch face first, thinking you were completely alone as you’d seen no one when you walked in, you let out the loudest scream your lungs could manage into one of the throw pillows. “WHY” you wailed, allowing the pillow to muffle your desperate cries for answers. 
“Rough day?” a voice says with a light chuckle. Slowly you lift your head to see another staff member standing alone by the coffee maker. You drop your head in embarrassment as you have now learned, you were indeed not alone when you let out that blood-curdling scream. “Miss. Y/L/N. Are you alright?” He said as he approached you. Leave it to one bad day, for you to not be fully aware of your surroundings and to let out such a scream in front of the ‘most perfect’ teacher this school has ever had. He’s a very intelligent man, there has never been a problem that he couldn’t fix. He’s polite, well-spoken and could practically substitute for any teacher in the school. He had a teaching degree, as well as a few others that he had picked up ‘for fun’. Not only was he all of that and more, but of course he also happened to be around your age, perfect. He made everyone else, including senior staff, look like they had done nothing productive with themselves. You let out a soft laugh into the pillow, as the realization that he had caught you in a mental war finally began to sink in. 
“Mr. Kim,” you say as you hastily sit up to save what little pride you had left. To be laying on the couch would be one thing- but the way you were planted with your head buried in a pillow was another. How embarrassing. “What are you still doing here? It’s well past school hours.” He smirks as he lifts his coffee cup in the air as if to say ‘Cheers’ 
“Had a few tests to grade,” he chuckles, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the steaming coffee. Your gaze settles on his hands wrapped around the mug, the mug looking small in his hands. You watch as he sips on the liquid and swallows it, making his Adam's apple bob up and down again. God, he’s stupidly beautiful. “And how about yourself Miss. Y/L/N, what are you doing here well past school hours?” He repeats the words back to you, raising a brow in a teasing manner. 
“Caught two students again,” you sigh, “I can’t even think of one good reason for them to be doing such things in the washroom, during school hours much less.” You slump further into the couch, rubbing your temples in annoyance. 
“You tend to draw the short straw every time huh?” Seungmin chuckles as he sips some more of his coffee. He keeps his eyes trained on you as you close your eyes, rubbing your head. He smirks to himself as he approaches you cautiously. 
“Unfortunately.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face and leaning forward, elbows resting on your knees. 
“Would you like to talk about it?” He pulls a chair up as he gets closer, swiftly shifting the chair so he can sit on it backwards, taking another sip of his damn coffee. Fuck, the bare minimum and its too motherfucking sexy. 
“Don’t you have papers to grade?” You eye him unsure if you really want to waste his time complaining if he has more important things to do. You’re also not entirely sure you want to talk about the whole thing anyway. 
“They can wait, you on the other hand look stressed.” 
“I don’t know Mr. Kim, I think it’s a bit beyond stress if you ask me.” You sigh again. “I think- I’m just tired and frustrated?” 
“Tired and frustrated, heavy combination.” he nods in understanding. “I feel as if catching students in the act isn’t what’s making you so tired and confused though.” 
“No, I mean yes- but not really.” You admit and Seungmin gives you a questioning look. You again sigh, “It’s the disrespect I receive, Mr. Kim. It’s overwhelming, and to be quite frank - annoying.” 
“I mean yes, doing such a thing on school grounds is disrespectful, but I wouldn’t take it personally Miss. Y/L/N.” Seungmin says as he takes another sip from his mug. 
“I don’t take that kind of thing personally Mr. Kim,” you laugh lightly. “I am genuinely constantly disrespected by my students, your students - at some points it feels like it’s the whole school.” You sigh in defeat. Seungmin is now sitting up straighter, he’s got a look of surprise. He seems genuinely confused at your statement. 
“How have they been disrespecting you?” He asks in concern. He desperately needs to know what the fuck the students have been saying about you. “Have they said something to you? Done something? Anything my students have done Miss. Y/L/N, I must know in order to speak to them accordingly.” You let out a light chuckle, shaking your head, and resting your chin on your palms. 
“Where do I start Mr. Kim? Would you like the comments on my body or should I tell you which students have attempted at grabbing my-” You stop yourself before finishing that thought, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “In all honesty Mr. Kim, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Perhaps after this year, I’ll resign.” At this point, you are so done with this school and you are so ready to quit and leave this school, it isn't doing your mental health any justice. As you are contemplating your future, Seungmin is reeling, he doesn't understand how his students have been saying such horrible things to you.  
“You can’t resign Y/N-” Seungmin says quickly, almost jumping out of his chair. He shocks himself from his sudden outburst, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie. Why would he drop the niceties? “I mean-” He runs his hand through his hair. “Miss. Y/L/N, the school would suffer a great loss if you were to resign.”
“How do you figure Mr. Kim?” you give him a questioning look. You truthfully thought that no one would really miss you, so why is he so adamant that you stay?
“Well, for one your students tend to have the highest grades in the school, which is no easy task.” He looks around the room as if to find the answer to your question written on the walls. “And from what I have always seen, all of our students absolutely adore you. The staff loves you, and I’m sure you’re on track for a few awards this year as well.” 
“You flatter me, but is it worth the verbal harassment from the students?” 
“You never told me what they’d been saying,” Seungmin mumbles through the pout of his lips. Fuck, I’m not strong enough for this. 
“The comments are different every day, from asking me on dates to calling me” you gesture air quotes, “Mommy. In the middle of class.” Seungmin’s jaw basically drops to the floor in complete shock. 
“Have-” he says cautiously as he picks his jaw up off the floor. “Have any of my boys said these things? If they have, I’d like names Y/N. Truthfully I’d like the names of all the boys who’ve made such inappropriate comments. ” He says sweetly but his jaw is set in anger, you can tell by the vein that is pulsing on his neck. 
“Mr. Kim-” 
“Please, call me Seungmin. I don’t see why we insist on speaking to each other as if we were students.” He smiles kindly at you.
“Seungmin.” Fuck, his name is so pretty. “It would be easier to list off the names of those who do not make such comments.” Seungmin looks immensely disgusted. 
~~~~~
Since the evening you spent speaking to Seungmin, he had begun loitering in your hallway. In the mornings, as students raced to get to class on time he would stand at your classroom door next to you, greeting students as they came in. During the lunch period, he would make his way into your classroom, and insist on spending the time with you- and if he had any sort of free period, he would keep a close watch on your class- well out of both you and the student's sight. 
He wanted to see with his own eyes, his students acting out. He wanted to be able to hear the disgusting comments himself. He thought surely it wouldn’t happen every day, right? Wrong. On the first day, he had heard the alleged Mommy comment at least four times. On the second day, he watched as a student attempted to smack your ass, only for you to turn around instantly and scold him yourself before sending him to class right after. 
Disgusted, was an understatement. Seungmin was livid. How could the students be this sick? He wondered. He would not allow this to continue. On the third day, he had finally had enough. After hearing passing comments about you in his own classroom, he’d immediately excused himself and marched his way down to the principal's office. 
“Sir,” Seungmin says as he enters the principal’s office. He’s fuming, barely holding himself together. 
“Mr. Kim, how can I help you?” The principal asks from his chair, motioning for Seungmin to enter the room.
“It seems we have an issue.” 
“Regarding?” 
“Miss. Y/L/N, and our students,” Seungmin announces, expecting the principal to be concerned, however, that wasn’t really the case.
“Ahh, Miss. Y/L/N again?” The principal tuts. Seungmin is shocked. Again? What does that mean? Has she already brought up the issue? 
“Ah, so you’ve heard-” Seungmin sighs calmly, and the principal nods. “To be absolutely truthful with you sir, this sort of behavior is absolutely-” The principal cuts him off before he finishes. 
“I don’t see why she’s so dramatic, I’ll have to have another talk with her.” The principal announces, picking up his office phone to get a hold of you.
“I’m sorry sir?” Seungmin asks, confused. Why would he have a talk with you?
“I don’t see why a woman like her would wear such clothes and later complain about boys being boys.” The principal sighs in annoyance. “I mean one look at her and any man would want a piece.” Seungmin wraps his hands in a tight fist at his side. He really wishes he didn't walk into this room.
“Sir, that is wildly inappropriate to say about a member of staff.” Seungmin seethes. This is not how a supervisor should be treating a subordinate, this isn't how you should treat another human being, especially one that is trying to do her job. How can someone have the audacity to say that openly? “She is-”
“A woman, Mr. Kim. She is a woman, and women, especially women like her, should dress according to their bodies. Wearing such tight clothing around boys who are barely getting their hormones in check is just asking for-” 
“She wears dress pants, sir? She is always professional in her clothing. I don’t see how this constitutes harassment.” The principal attempts to interrupt but Seungmin continues. “To say a woman is ‘asking’ for sexual harassment from students, or men in general for what they wear is absurd. It is her body, she may do with it as she pleases so as long as it is school appropriate. She is not asking for anything but the bare minimum!” The principal rolls his eyes at Seungmin’s statement. “She deserves the respect any of the other teachers receive!” 
“Well, she isn’t like the other teachers now is she?” 
“What does that mean sir.” He fists his hands even tighter if that was even humanly possible. 
“She’s different- she’s more of a looker. Please, Mr. Kim, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The entirety of the faculty knows you’ve had the same thoughts as the rest of us.” Seungmin can feel his blood boiling, if he could, he would launch himself at the principal and punch him out for the shit that was coming out of his mouth. The principal admitted to thinking of you grossly and has now accused him of the same. Sure, he had thought you beautiful, intelligent, and funny but to mentally undress you was something he never did. No. He respected you far too much for that. 
“I do not appreciate you painting me as a predator.” Seungmin grits his teeth, tightening his jaw. 
“Seungmin, go back to your class. There are more important things to deal with.” The principal waves him off in annoyance. “I should have gotten rid of that woman after the third time she brought this issue up, if it was so bad she would have changed her appearance.” 
“Her looks should never have been a problem in the first place!” Seungmin yells at the steaming pile of shit in front of him. “How dare you speak about her as if she was nothing more than some sort of-” he struggles to find the right word. “Doll!” 
“Mr. Kim.” the principal warns in annoyance.
“She is much more than that! An intelligent woman who has put up with this for far too long! If you do not wish to punish the students for their actions sir, I will have no choice but to email the board.” Seungmin glares at the principal. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. 
“I will be putting you on suspension, Mr. Kim. Think about what you really want to do here. Go. I’ll have someone cover your class. Get out of my sight.” Seungmin leaves the office in a huff, walking aggressively back as he internally thinks about how he will absolutely fuck that mans career. He walks past your class and you notice that he's pissed, you race out to see him.
“Mr. Kim!” Seungmin stops in his tracks and looks at you. You let the door close to your classroom behind you to have a more private conversation with him. His attitude changed when he saw you but he was still tense. You notice his knuckles are white, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. “Will I see you for lunch again?” 
“No.” He says angrily. He never misses lunch with you. Why is this time different? What made him so angry? 
“Are you alright Mr. Kim?” You ask cautiously. He looks around the hallway and sighs. 
“Miss. Y/L/N, it seems in attempting to do what was right, I have been suspended. My apologies, but I will not be staying for lunch.” 
“Suspended?! For what?!” You yelp in shock. Seungmin is the most perfect teacher at this school, how in the world did he get suspended?
“It seems harassment in this school goes unpunished.” You look at him confused. What the hell is he talking about? “I will also be considering my position here. Perhaps I will join you in resigning.” You’re stupidly confused. What brought all of this up? Did he say something about the harassment you faced daily?  You should have warned him that you brought this issue up to the principal in the past only to be ignored every single time. 
“Mr. Kim, I’m- I’m so sorry. I should have told you not to bring it up-” you stutter as you’re finding it increasingly difficult to look him in the eyes for feeling guilty that your problem had caused him to be suspended. He shouldn't be suspended. 
“Y/N.” Seungmin sighs and softly brushes his hand against yours to gain your attention again. “It’s not your fault that the people who are supposed to stand by your side haven’t. My suspension only opened my eyes to the massive flaw we have within the school. I intend to either fix it or remove myself from the equation.” Seungmin bows to you lightly and walks away, thinking about every way he could get the principal fired. He would have to email the school board. You stand in the hallway completely flabbergasted by what just happened. The bell rings stealing your attention from him, as you turn back to call for him, he’s gone.
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You hear a knock at your door. You quickly run into your bathroom to make sure you look presentable after slaving over dinner prep. You run to the door and open it quickly. Seungmin is standing there dressed casually, not in his usual slacks and button-downs, with a bottle of wine in his hand. You beam a smile at him. “Welcome!” You motion for him to enter your home. 
“Thank you,” he smiles back. The atmosphere in the apartment is so heavy with awkwardness. He looks down at his hands and realizes he still has the bottle of wine in his hands. “Oh, I- uh, brought this for you- I mean us,” he says as he holds the bottle out for you. You take it with a small thank you and make your way to the kitchen. This is the first time the two of you have hung out outside of work so it’s bound to be a little awkward… right? You can't help but sneak glances at him. He looks handsome even in mundane clothes. He stares at all the food you prepared in awe, “Seriously, you didn’t have to do all of this?” 
“I felt like it,” you chuckle lightly. You’re incredibly nervous for him to taste your food. You very rarely cook for anyone and especially since it’s him you kind of went a little overboard. “Anyways, sit or-”
“Where’s your corkscrew?” He asks politely as he makes his way into your kitchen. “I find a bit of wine is always a welcomed relaxant.” You laugh and point to the drawer. You take out a few wine glasses while he struggles to pull the cork out of the bottle, making the both of you laugh, and breaking some of the unnecessary tension. You both sit down to enjoy the meal and the wine, the conversations flowing smoothly. 
“Oh please Mr. Kim-” you laugh, your cheeks tinted pink from drinking so much. Seungmin’s mind is reeling, he thinks you’re absolutely adorable, but in a corruptible way. Wait, did I just think that? Do I want to corrupt her?? No… I’d be no better than those fuckers at school… but she looks so pretty right now, her eyes glossed over, cheeks pink… fuck.
“I told you, call me Seungmin, we’re not in school,” he chuckles lightly, helping you out of the chair at the table and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.
“Sorry, old habits,” you frown. “I’m sorry you got suspended… because of me.” You sniffle a little as you finish your sentence. He was the only person who treated you decently at that hell hole, of course, you’re upset he's gone. And he’s also the only eye candy at that school and you can no longer ogle over him from down the hall.
“Hey, I told you, I got suspended because I couldn't keep my mouth shut about what was going on at the school. It was in no way your fault.” He said softly as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, wiping away a single tear that ran down your cheek.
“I just feel like I didn’t do enough to make it up to you,” you say softly as you play with the hem of his shirt. He watches your hands carefully, studying the curve of your fingers, wondering what they’d feel wrapped around his- no- stop. Don’t think like that… Seungmin quickly shakes the thought out of his head, but he couldn’t help but admire you. So sweet, so sickeningly innocent. The way you look up at him with those eyes, like a siren beckoning him to kiss you, god how badly he wanted to kiss you, touch you, make you, his- only his. 
He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he shouldn’t want you as badly as he does but as he looks at you- shying away from him all he can think about is how he could ruin that innocence you seem to unknowingly have, he wants to hear the sinful noises he just knows you’d be capable of making at his command. Fuck-  oh fuck, the ways he could ruin you. I really am no better than the rest of them… 
“Well, there is something that we could do to make it up to both of us,” he said carefully, tracing his fingers over your knuckles, a shiver running down your spine.
“What do you have to make up for?” you ask softly, looking at his eyes for the first time since you sat on the couch. His pupils have blown out, a slight blush to his cheeks, his ears red.
“For the thoughts, I’ve been having all night,” he admits, ghosting his fingers further up your forearm, tracing over every blemish on your skin.
“O-oh? What k-kind of thoughts?” you ask shyly as another shiver runs down your spine from his gentle touches.
“I’ve been thinking about how much I want to corrupt you, how I want to wrap you up in a bow like a fucking Christmas present begging to be opened, how I want to see you writhe beneath me as I fuck you hard and rough until you’re screaming my name.” 
You moan at his words as he rests his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly in his hands. “What… what’s been stopping you?” You close your eyes as he massages your thighs, slowly running his fingers up under the hem of your skirt.
“I…” Seungmin pauses as he slowly removes his hands from your legs, suddenly feeling guilty at his actions. “I don’t want you to think I’m just another sleazy guy.” You immediately shake your head vigorously.
“I don’t think you're sleazy. At all.” You say, shocked at the confidence in your voice. “I… you’re the only person that has stood up for me… cared about me.” You trace your fingers over his knuckles. “And…” you’re not sure if it was the atmosphere or the alcohol that gave you the confidence but you blurted out without even a second thought, “I also think you’re incredibly handsome, Seungmin.”
Without a second further, Seungmin lunges forward and crashes his lips to yours in a hot, wet, steamy kiss. He licks into your mouth and quickly dominates the kiss, guiding you to match his rhythm. His hands glide further up your legs, under your skirt again and his fingers brush along the gusset of your panties. 
“Already so wet for me, angel?”
You whine into his mouth and grip the hem of his shirt tighter, trying to pull him closer to you. He wraps his hands around your wrists and yanks them away from him as he smirks into the kiss. 
“When did I say you could touch, angel?” He asks darkly, his tone firm, demanding. He held your hands down to your sides as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “Be a good girl and stay still for me.” You felt your body shiver and a high whine escaped your lips. You wiggled slightly, the need between your legs growing to be unbearable.
“Stop moving or I’m going to have to tie you down, angel.” Seungmin teases but pauses at the immediate blush that flashed across your cheeks.  “Oh, you like that don’t you.” Seungmin chuckles as he bites at your chin. “I don’t have anything to tie you up, angel, maybe next time.”
You squirm underneath him, desperate to get his attention since your words seemed to have been caught in your throat. “S-Seung-”
He stops sucking on your neck to allow you some space. “What is it, angel? Are you ok?” He looks so concerned as he looks over your face for any discomfort.
“‘M ok.” You say breathlessly. “H-have rope.” Seungmin stops and stares down at you, his eyes darkening.
“Oh, my naughty, naughty girl. You have rope? Who’s tied you up before, angel? Hmm? Tell me.” Seungmin seethes as he grips your wrists tighter, feeling incredibly possessive over you all of a sudden.
“N-no one. I s-swear. N-never tried it.” You begin to cry, not wanting him to run away from you, disgusted by your desires. Seungmin lets go of your wrists to wipe away your tears, kissing your cheeks and then your nose.
“Ok, angel. I believe you, don’t cry just yet.” Seungmin runs his hands down your cheek, down the column of your neck, through the valley between your breasts, across your stomach, and ghosting his fingertips across the hem of your skirt. “Why don’t we take this to your bedroom then so we can use that rope of yours.” He holds his hand out to help you up off the couch. You take his hand and rush toward your bedroom and close the door behind both of you. You go to your bedside and pull out a box from under your bed.
“I know it’s cliche to have a box of toys under the bed, please don’t judge me.” You say shyly as you stay knelt on the ground with the closed box in front of you. Seungmin slowly walks up to you and runs his fingers through your hair as you lean into his touch.
“So obedient,” Seungmin chuckles. He leans down and opens the lid to the box and inspects the toys inside. “Which one’s are your favorite?” He looks at you when you don’t respond and he chuckles lightly again. “You have permission to speak, angel.”
You point to a black bullet vibrator that sat atop all of the other items in the box and a clear silicone dildo sat right next to it. “These two,” you whisper quietly.
Seungmin huffs and takes the two toys out and tosses them on the floor next to you and continues to examine the other toys in the box. There's a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, rope, a thick veiny long lifelike dildo, and a curved vibrator - the type that has internal and external stimuli. “Have you ever used any of these?”
You shake your head no. 
“I want you to speak when I ask you a question,” Seungmin says in a demanding tone, making a shiver run down your spine.
“N-no, I haven’t used them.” You respond shyly, keeping your eyes focused on your hands folded in your lap.
“No, what?” Seungmin says as he lifts your head up with his fingers pressed under your chin. “What do you call me, angel? You get to decide.”
“N-no, I haven’t u-used them, sir.” You say as a blush creeps across your cheeks and you feel more wet between your folds. You see Seungmin shiver when the title rolls off your tongue, but he still keeps his cool.
“Why haven’t you used them? You bought them, you should use them, no?” Seungmin says as he begins removing each item from the box and placing them carefully in between the two of you.
“I-I never had the opportunity, sir.” You say as you look away from him. He tuts and guides you to look at him again. He’s giving you a knowing look like he knows that’s not the entire truth. Fuck, was I always this easy to read? “I-I’m scared, sir.” You say quietly, the confession making you feel more shy than you already were. You’ve never shown anyone your treasure chest before and the fact that you were showing Mr. Kim, the man you’ve had a crush on for AGES, was fucking with your brain more than you would’ve liked. You wanted to do anything, everything he asked. Wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you’d do whatever he wanted. Seungmin’s gaze softens and he brushes his fingers across your cheek, you lean into the touch, desperate to feel his warmth again.
“You’re scared of the toys? Hmm, my poor angel isn’t very heavenly if she has all of these naughty toys, right?” Seungmin asks and he sees the panic flicker in your eyes. “Shh, angel it’s ok. I like your naughty desires, but it makes me want to corrupt you even more. Would you like that? Can I teach you?”
You nod your head excitedly. “Yes, yes. Want you to teach me. Show me, sir.” 
Seungmin shivers in excitement. He pets your cheek gently. “Anything for you my angel. Get on the bed on your knees for me.”
You do as he says and place yourself at the center of the bed, carefully tucking your knees beneath you and placing your hands in your lap, awaiting his instructions. He smiles when you’re settled and stands at the end of the bed, looking over your body as if you were a piece of art in a museum. 
“Such an obedient little thing aren’t you.” Seungmin praises, you feel a satisfied shiver run down your spine. “Now, I want you to be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, and when you’re done, get back into that position. Understood, pup?”
“Y-yes sir.” You carefully remove your shirt, trying your best to make your movements as sexy as possible. You lean back and remove your skirt and panties, tossing them onto the floor next to your discarded shirt. You prop yourself back up on your knees and slowly reach back to unclasp your bra, suddenly feeling all too shy to be so naked in front of him. Seungmin walks to the side of the bed and sits down beside you when he notices your hesitation. He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He runs his fingers down your cheek to your chin and tilts your head towards him.
“You don’t need to be shy, pup. You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers running up and down your arm. “Let me see all of you.”
You nod your head, unclasp your bra, and let it drop to your lap. Seungmin picks it up and tosses it over his shoulder as he stares at you. He looks you up and down, briefly licking his lips when his gaze locks on your lips. He gets up from beside you and stands at the foot of the bed again right in front of your box of goodies.
“What shall we do first pup?” Seungmin looks down at the box and a small smirk dances across his lips. He pulls out the silky black blindfold, “Shall we start with this?”
He walks over to the side of the bed again and places his hands on your shoulder, lightly pushing you down so you’d lay flat on the bed. He pushes the hair out of your face and places the silky material over your eyes. “I’m gonna need you to tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable, ok pup? You know the stop light system?”
“Y-yes sir,” you mumble breathlessly. The removal of sight has already heightened your other senses. His voice was caramel sweet to your ears and you wanted.. no.. needed more.
“Good girl.” You feel the bed lift beside you as Seungmin begins to walk away from you. “Stay just like that.”  You hear him moving around the room and the rustling of the items in your box until you hear him gasp. “Ohh fuck.” You hear him whisper probably to himself so you stay silent. “You really are a pup aren’t you?” You hear a chain clanging against itself as seungmin removes whatever it is from the box. “Sit up.” Seungmins words are commanding and you obey immediately. You listen as the chain and inevitably Seungmin approaches you again. He grabs your jaw and leans in close to your ear. “I can’t wait to see you in this pup. And I swear to god, if you disobey me I will not go easy on you. You’ve been such a good pet so far, let’s not make it go to waste huh?” You shudder and nod as best as you could within his grasp.
“Y-yes sir, I’ll be a good pup, I swear.” You want to please him, you want him to praise you again and call you a good girl. You wanna be so so so good for him.
He chuckles in your ear and he moves his hand down from your chin and rests it around your throat. You keen at the motion and lean into his hand, wanting so desperately for him to squeeze. “Oh, it’s a good thing you like things wrapped around your neck pup.” Seungmin teases as he tightens and loosens his hold on your neck in quick succession. You whine and buck your hips up at nothing, the need between your legs starting to become unbearable. 
Seungmin removes his hand from your throat and you let out a desperate whine. “Shh, pup, be patient.” You suddenly feel cold, rough material tightening around your neck. Seungmins face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want to turn your head and kiss him but you want to be good. Need to be good. So you stay still and wait for his instructions. Once he latches the material together you feel the cold metal chain drape across your chest and down the valley of your breasts. “Go ahead, pup, feel it.” You reach up to your neck and feel at the material that was placed around your throat and you gasp at the realization. The studded collar you bought a few months ago, was now sat prettily around your neck, the leash dangling down the front of your body. 
“Oh,” you whisper breathlessly as you run your fingers up and down the cold metal leash. You suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. You’ve never been in a position like this with any of your previous partners, most of them finding your desires to be too much. Your breath hitches as you sit in the silence. You can’t tell if Seungmin moved away from you or where he may be. Does he also find you undesirable? Is he disgusted by your wants? You drop your hands to the bed and feel around for him. “S-seungmin..” you whine as you’re worriedly searching for him. You start breathing heavier as you’re stressing over not being able to see him, hear him, or feel him.
You feel warm hands wrap around yours. “Hey, I’m right here pup.” You whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Do you want me to take the blindfold off?”
“No!” You reply a little too quickly. You shake your head. “N-no, I wanna keep it on… a-at least for a little while.”
He chuckles and kisses your cheek again. “Ok, pup. For a little while.” He begins to pull his hand away from you but you quickly chase after it and pull him back to you. “Pup.” Seungmin sits beside you on the bed and lifts the blindfold off from your eyes. “Look at me,” he says in a soft but demanding tone. Your eyes take a minute to adjust to the light but you look directly in front of you and see Seungmin sitting inches from you, his face a whisper away from yours. He looks at your eyes and it feels like he’s searching for something in them. “Listen to me pup. You’ve been so good so far, such a good girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good, but I need you to trust me.” He gently runs his finger across your cheek. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’ll be right here and if you want me to stop at any time just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop immediately.” His gaze softens as he notices the slight quiver in your lips. “You really are new to this aren’t you pup?”
You nod your head. Seungmin carefully watches you as you open and close your mouth, trying to find the words you want to say. “Y-yes. Wanted to try, b-but no one…” you trail off as you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. “No one’s wanted to d-do this with me.”
Seungmins gaze darkens slightly and he looks away from you, his jaw firmly set. You reach your hand up and guide him to look at you again.
“Please teach me.” You whisper as you touch your forehead against his. “I trust you Seungmin,” you say in a featherlight voice, closing your eyes and bringing the blindfold back over your eyes.
Seungmin is perfectly still as he watches you in awe. His precious pup is gaining some confidence, you saying you trust him, you wanting him to teach you. He’s not sure he’s ready for it himself. He feels the tent in his pants tightening. “Of course I’ll teach you pup,” you feel the bed lift from in front of you and feel a searing smack against your ass. You whimper at the pain, feeling a hand smoothing over the red mark that was most definitely left behind. “Firstly, you called me the wrong name, pup, and for that, you need to be punished.”
“I-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” You say breathless as Seungmin nips at your neck.
“You better hope it doesn’t.” There’s another slap on your ass. “I want you to count, pup. Starting now.” He lands another smack and you start counting in your head. Seungmin yanks you by your hair and forces you to lean against his chest, his voice seething and close to your ear. “Out loud pup.”
“O-one.” You say with a shaky breath.
“Good girl.” Seungmin praises as he pushes you back down on your hands and knees. You keen at the praise and you push your ass backwards awaiting the next round of slaps.
You count out loud for each slap across your ass. “Eighteen.” Slap. “N-nineteen.” Slap. “Twenty.” Seungmin rubs soothing circles on your ass as the sting subsides.
“Well done pup. You did a good job.” Seungmin guides you to lay down on your back. He gives you a few gentle pecks on your lips as he runs his fingers across your tummy. “I’m gonna tie you up, okay pup? Can you tell me your color?”
“Green, sir. P-please keep going.” You say as you try to reach for his hands. Seungmin chuckles and kisses your knuckles.
“Ok pup, I’ll keep going.” Seungmin kisses your forehead and walks towards the end of the bed. You hear him rummaging through the box and he slowly approaches you again. “Lift your hands.” 
You slowly lift your hands up and Seungmin places the toy in your hands. You wrap your fingers around the material and feel the coarse threads of the rope you had inside your box. “Can you tell me what it is, pup?”
“Rope, sir.” You say as you run your fingers over the rope. You know the rope is a deep crimson, a color you thought would look stunning against your skin. You were so nervous to proceed, but you wanted to trust Seungmin. He’d take care of you.
“That's very good. Very good girl.” Seungmin praises and takes the rope from your hands and helps you sit up. “Listen to me carefully. I am going to tie you up. The rope is going to be nice and tight around your skin. It’ll feel good, but if it's too tight or you're having a hard time breathing or you're nervous, you tell me immediately and I’ll cut you free. Do you understand?”
You smiled towards the direction of his face and nodded lightly. “I understand, sir.” You feel him run the rough material over your skin. You shudder at the feeling, goosebumps rising over your arms as the rope is wrapped around your body. Seungmin tightens the rope every so often around your chest, your hips, your thighs. You feel the wetness pooling between your legs as he continues slowly. He traces your skin before the rope tracks over the same space. You suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed by the intimacy of this type of play. Something you’ve never experienced before. Something you weren't prepared to feel. You noticed that Seungmin stopped his movements. “Pup.” Seungmin whispers, his lips grazing your shoulder as he places light kisses over the skin. He pulls your blindfold off and throws it off the bed. He’s looking at you with so much care in his eyes, but there's an underlying lust that he was holding back. “Don’t cry. Not yet.”
You didn’t even realize you were crying and you try to reach up to wipe the tears away quickly realizing that your arms are tied tightly to your sides. You start to fluster and your breathing picks up. “I-I’m sorry…” You start but Seungmin quickly places his hands on each side of your face and looks at you deeply.
“Hey, you’re ok. I’m right here. Color?”
“Y-yellow. Yellow, sir.” You say as you close your eyes feeling the tears pooling behind your eyes. Seungmin moves closer to you and places your forehead on his shoulder as he runs soothing lines up and down your spine and pats your head with his other hand. You two sit like that for a few moments, your breathing coming back to normal. “G-green.” 
Seungmin lightly pushes you back to sitting up. He smiles at you and grabs the rope again. He goes slower this time and finishes wrapping the rope around your body. He sits in front of you as you wiggle slightly as he asks if it's too tight. You promise him that you’re ok and he carefully lays you down on the bed again. He moves back to the box and pulls out the vibrator and the dildo. He returns to your side and traces the vibrator over the rope. You nod at him to continue and Seungmin smirks at you. He climbs on the bed and sits between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your soft skin as he turns the vibrator on.
He traces the vibrator over the rope and runs it along your arms. He slowly drags the vibrator between the valley of your breasts, making direct eye contact with you as he puts the device straight onto your nipple. You arch your back into the sensation and whine high as the vibrations send a wave of warmth down to your core. Seungmin spits into his hand and grabs the dildo, bringing it to your core and running it up and down your lips. You thrash at the feeling, bucking your hips to try to relieve the tension that's been building up between your legs since you and Seungmin were making out on your couch.
He teases the dildo against your entrance, slowly pushing the tip between your lips and quickly retreating, repeating the motion over and over again as he quickens the vibrations on your nipples.
“S-sir, please,” you plead, you need so much more than he’s giving you.
“Okay, pup, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin says sweetly as he forces the dildo into your core in one swift push. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, your walls pulse around the toy. He pulls the dildo out entirely and pushes it all the way in once again. There's a teasing smile on his lips as he pumped the toy deep into your cunt. 
“F-feels s-so good,” you whine as you roll your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. “W-want you, s-sir,” you say with a stroke of confidence. He slowed his pace and he looked at you carefully. Something flashes across his face for a brief moment, his dominant persona being replaced by something else, something more desperate. He shook his head and his dominant persona was back. He removed the dildo from your cunt and turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. He leaves you alone on the bed as you watch him remove his clothes, the waistband of his underwear catching on his hard cock, releasing it to let it slap against his stomach. You watch him in awe as he pumps his cock a few times, running a hand through his hair pushing it back, giving you the most exquisite view you've ever seen. Seungmin pauses his movements and smirks down at you.
“Would you like to stay tied up or do you want your hands?” Seungmin looks down at you cautiously but still with a fire behind his eyes that makes you want to hide behind your hands… if they were free.
“I’d like to stay t-tied please,” you say quietly, wiggling on the bed. Seungmin nods and crawls over you, running a finger down your cheek to your chin. He places a feather-light kiss on your nose and continues his light kisses down your neck as he lines himself up to your entrance. He pushes his tip in slowly and harshly snaps his hips into yours, punching the breath out of you. Seungmin stills as he places gentle kisses along your collarbone, snaking his hand up to gently hold your neck.
“Breathe, pup,” Seungmin whispers as he begins to thrust into you at a slow but calculated pace. There isn't any rhythm to his thrusts but the depth that he's reaching inside you already has you seeing stars. You let out shaky breaths, trying your best to focus on Seungmin’s piercing gaze. He’s staring down at you, taking in every single twitch and hitch in your breathing. He’s analyzing what feels good, gauging your reactions to each thrust, each touch. 
After a particularly pointed thrust you let out a high-pitched whimper and Seungmin’s gaze darkens. He starts thrusting in a steady rhythm now, hitting that spot that made you see stars, forcing high needy whimpers from your puffy lips. His hand on your neck tightens and his other hand finds your sweet little bundle of nerves. He lightly runs his finger over the bud and you attempt to reach down and pull his hand away from you, but your hands stay where they are, tied to your sides. You try to wiggle away from him but with his hand around your throat and his cock pressing deep inside your wet cunt you’re not entirely successful. Seungmin chuckles cynically at your attempt and he flicks his fingers over your clit repeatedly, watching as you hold back your moans with your lips pulled between your teeth and he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Feel good, pup?” You whine in response, unable to form coherent words at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. You think for a brief moment that Seungmin will punish you for not answering his question with words, but apparently, he doesn't mind this time and continues his assault on your clit. After a rough thrust, you muffle another moan. Seungmin slaps your messy cunt harshly before soothing his hands over the area. “Don’t hold back your pretty moans, pup. Lemme hear how loud you can be for me.”
You're a writhing mess below him. Moans, ragged breaths, and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard in your small bedroom. You felt like you could've come at least 10 times already but this time, you can feel it’s different. You want to touch him, pull him close to you, kiss him as you come. “M-min, pl-please stop,” you ask breathlessly.
It takes him a moment to pause his movements before he's looking down at you attentively, searching your features for any discomfort. “Did it hurt? Are you ok? Did I go too rough?” he asks calmly, but there is concern written all over his face. You wiggle your hands that are still bound to your sides and look down at them and look back up to him quickly. 
“Wan my hands,” you say quickly, adding an almost forgotten ‘please’ at the end. Seungmin looks down at your hands and quickly pulls at the knots, releasing your tired limbs from their hold, and resumes his previous pace before you have the time to recover. You yelp at the sudden movements and quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. “S-seungmin~” you whimper, “G-gonna, w-wanna cum.” 
Seungmin must be close as his grunting has gotten louder since you wrapped yourself around him. “Cum when you’re ready pup, getting close.” Seungmin pushes his nose into your neck, lapping his tongue along your skin, pressing messy kisses here and there as he moans into you.
You feel something deep in your stomach begin to tighten. You dig your nails into Seungmin’s back as your moans get higher in pitch. You babble incoherent phrases as you wrap your legs around his body, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. Seungmin quickened his fingers against your clit, sliding his fingers into your tight cunt with his palm resting on your puffy (and incredibly abused) clit. The additional intrusion was enough to push you over. You muttered out an incoherent sound along with a breathless, “c-cuhm”, as your body shudders and your cunt pulses around Seungmins cock and fingers. A loud shriek pushes past your lips as your climax rushes through you. Seungmin mumbles encouragements into your skin, kissing your ear, chin, and neck. “That’s it pup, wan you to feel so good. Such a good pup, my good pup.” 
You feel like you're floating as Seungmins pace begins to get more sloppy. He grinds into you as he groans more praises into your ear. “Good pup, so good for me. My good girl. Good pup, making me feel so good.” He curls his fingers up into your cunt adding pressure once again as he pushes in deeper, his tip kissing your cervix. “Cumin, pup, cuming,” he mumbles as he releases deep inside of you. The pressure of his fingers, his cock pushing against your cervix, and his cum filling you has another orgasm racing through you. You dig your nails into his back as you soundlessly cum again. Seungmin collapses on top of you, his breathing harsh as he softly rocks into you, riding out the last of both of your orgasms.
After a few moments, he pushes himself up to look down at you. He places a light kiss on your nose as he carefully removes himself from you. “Stay right there,” he whispers as he moves towards the bathroom. While he’s gone you catch your breath, stuck in a semi-trance. He’s back in a few moments with what looks like lotion and a towel. Seungmin makes quick and gentle work to wipe you down, rubbing lotion along your skin, all the while he's whispering sweet words to you. You feel so warm, so cared for, so wanted. He has you take a few sips of water before he pulls you into bed, letting you cuddle into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. As you slowly drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel so loved, so safe.
The weekend passes by quickly, Seungmin leaving only to gather some clothes from his house. He spends the weekends exploring you, learning your inner workings, how your mind ticks and functions, how your body reacts to the things he does, and how his mind and body react to you. He also spends a portion of the weekend sending emails which he tells you are simply to figure out when his suspension ends. On Monday Seungmin will return to school, and though it has only been three days, getting used to calling him Mr. Kim in school again seems daunting with you now being used to simply calling him Seungmin. 
“What if I just quit and go to another school?” You whisper as Seungmin parks the car in the school lot, Seungmin takes your hand softly, giving you a small smile before speaking. 
“Everything will be fine, Miss Y/L/N. No more harassment from students, or staff.” 
“How’d you know about the staff-” 
“I just know my love, but I promise you, no more.” You’re not sure how Seungmin can make such a promise but still. You make your way into your classroom, your students all waiting attentively for you to start your lesson. The few typical troublemakers in the back sit unusually silent as you begin. A knock on your door causes you to stop your slideshow as a woman you haven’t seen before walks in, followed by Seungmin directly behind her. He closes the door and waits patiently for the woman to speak. 
“Good morning students,” she starts, “Miss. Y/L/N.” she nods to you, “My name is Mrs. Im, as some of you may know,” she says as she stares to the back of the class where the usual group of boys sit up straight, some with their heads hung down. “I am your school's new principal. I’ve come to introduce myself. Miss. Y/L/N may I speak to you in the hallway quickly?” You nod as you follow her and Seungmin out into the hall. Your heart racing from not knowing what any of this was about. 
“Mr. Kim, Mrs. Im. What is this about?” 
“Miss. Y/L/N, I’ll need you to give me a list of the staff who have harassed you. I apologize for this being so sudden, but I’d like to rid my school of such behavior immediately.” Seungmin stands proud beside Mrs. Im as she speaks, “Though for now, I can only offer a suspension as we await investigation but I hope this helps you feel a bit safer within your workspace.” You nod softly as she smiles and walks away, leaving you alone for a moment with Seungmin.
“See my love? I told you. No more.” He smiles at you as he takes your hand gently in his, tracing his fingers across your digits and placing a soft and quick kiss on your fingertip. “Nothing bad's gonna happen to you anymore, not when I can help.” You can’t help the blush that dusts across your cheeks.
“I- uh, gotta get back to my class,” you say sheepishly as you slowly back towards your classroom. 
“I’ll meet you at the car after school?” He asks cooly as he tucks his hands into his pockets, smirking at you.
“Of course, Mr. Kim,” you sing-song back to him as you walk into your classroom. Seungmin stands in the hallway for a beat before he turns around, kicking his feet, and lightly chucking to himself. 
“My lovely little pup,” he whispers with a smile on his face as he walks down the hall, planning how he is going to have his way with you later this evening. 
➽──────────────❥
Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi @skzstaykatsy
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tobiasdrake · 7 months ago
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Thinking about redemption yesterday got me thinking about fallen heroes today, and how rare it is to see a character initially painted as a hero be driven to heinousness for legitimate reasons.
Often times, if a hero goes bad, it's because of an external force corrupting their mind. Or it's a misunderstanding and they were secretly still good all along. Or they were just having a rough day and they'll be good again in five minutes.
We rarely see get to see heroes go sour purely on their own merits. Maybe because their values weren't so benign as they'd seemed when pushed to a natural conclusion. Maybe because they expected too much of themselves or of others. Or maybe personal experience taught them to believe something else.
Whatever the case, as often as writers will attempt to examine the transformative power of better angels, we rarely get to see the transformative power of worse devils.
Which brings me to....
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Sayaka Miki is a character that holds a special place in my heart, not for overcoming her flaws but for being consumed by them. She's a cautionary tale into the perils of righteousness.
I need to preface this by bringing up that the characters of Madoka Magica are children. They're irrational, judgmental, ignorant of risk, and quick to throw themselves into horrible mistakes with absolute confidence. Because they're children. That's how this works. The villain of the series is a psychological predator who feeds on the impulsivity and poor judgment of youth, grooming them into self-destruction.
The entire system of Magical Girls exists to give these children enough rope to hang themselves with and then to kick the ladder out from under them. That is the plot, with Sayaka being the primary means by which the show demonstrates the complete journey from rope to ladder.
I just. I need you to understand that even at her worst, Sayaka is a victim of predatory incentives and calculated coercions meant to cultivate her worst traits while stripping her of hopes and dreams. To drown her in mistakes she could never take back. She didn't have the life experience to know better. That's why her predator targets children.
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Sayaka's rope is woven from virtuous self-image. It's not immediately apparent when we meet her, but Sayaka's fatal flaw is ego. Her moral compass is wound extremely tight, and it's only later that we realize it's wound around her neck.
Like many children, Sayaka is trying on an identity moreso than expressing her inner self. She wants to be altruistic. She wants to be selfless. She wants to be a true hero. She wants to live by nothing more than high-minded ideals, expecting no reward for her efforts (but receiving it all the same).
She wants to be the kind of person that Mami was.
But she has no idea who Mami was. She wasn't there to see Mami fracture. To see her break down in vulnerability and express the isolating misery she lives in.
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Sayaka didn't see that. She only saw how cool Mami looked when she was killing Witches. So when she tries on an identity, she's specifically trying on the identity of Mami - blissfully unaware that her interpretation of Mami was nothing but a mask. She is emulating the behavior of a victim already consumed by the predatory incentives she's accepting.
Sayaka was doomed from the moment she made her wish.
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Once again, the show does a brilliant job of concealing this at first. Right off the bat, it's easy for Sayaka to be the hero. She saves both her BFFs Madoka and Hitomi from a Witch in her debut adventure, before being immediately thrust into a moral argument that's super easy for her to win.
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This is what a hero looks like! Should we stand by and let monsters eat people YES/NO
Sayaka says no. Sayaka says letting monsters eat people is bad. Solid Bioware-level moral dilemma she's got here. Sayaka won +10 Paragon points for the choices she picked out of this conversation tree, lemme tell you!
Moments like this work to disguise what's going on here with Sayaka. Obviously Sayaka's making good choices and doing the right thing when the alternative is Kyoko going "Want me to break your crush's limbs so he needs you for life support?" That's awful, so since Sayaka's against it then that means she must be right. Right?
Kyoko is the devil. Sayaka is the paragon.
But this is a story about nuanced and complex people. Sayaka isn't that person. Sayaka likes the idea of being that person. She's being dishonest - With herself, with others around her, and with the universe.
She's trying on an identity, not fully understanding who she really is or what her limitations are.
Incidentally, so is Kyoko, which is what makes their Yin and Yang dichotomy so potent. Having never been tested like this before, Sayaka is more selfish than she truly understands - While Kyoko, damaged by trauma, is more selfless than she wants to believe.
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The thing Sayaka doesn't quite grasp is that, to an extent, it's okay to be selfish. It's okay to want things for yourself. Again, the identity she's trying to live up to was a lie to begin with. She only saw the mask; Never the humanity underneath. So she fails to recognize her own humanity; Her own needs and wants and desires.
She imprisons her own mind in a cage of altruism.
Sayaka is warned multiple times against spending her wish on another person. But she doesn't understand the perils of it. She lacks the necessary perspective to grasp the level of sacrifice she's making. (Because she is a child. I cannot stress this point enough.)
When she makes her wish, Sayaka wants her sacrifice reciprocated. She wants to be rewarded. But she doesn't want to want that. She wants to be the selfless hero for Kyosuke. To silently grant him a miracle because it's the right thing to do for her friend. But she expects, without consciously thinking about it, that the universe will deliver her nice things because she is good.
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But life doesn't work like that. It doesn't give you things you aren't willing to reach for. Sayaka said she just wanted him to be happy. She just wanted to help people. She just wanted to dedicate her life to virtue and altruism, with no wants or needs or desires of her own.
Kyoko was being cruel and unfeeling when she suggested crippling Kyosuke; She was trying to express a mask of selfishness, the same way Sayaka's been trying to express a mask of selflessness. But she wasn't the only person telling Sayaka that it was a mistake to do this. She's just the only person who said it after the fact.
So the universe calls her bluff. While Sayaka waits for her sacrifices to be rewarded, fracturing more and more from learning what those sacrifices truly entail, someone else claims her prize. The work gets harder, not just physically but emotionally. And she only gets what she asked for. Nothing more.
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This is what a hero looks like. She wanted to be Mami.
Remind me. What was Mami's reward for her sacrifices?
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Oh. Yeah. That's right.
The thing of it is, there is a reward for a Magical Girl's sacrifices. There is a prize you're meant to receive for the unjust hardships and self-destruction that you're volunteering to undertake.
It's the fucking wish.
That she, in her righteousness, gave away.
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Sayaka's rope is woven from virtuous self-image. Her fatal flaw is ego. She was undone by arrogance expressed in ignorance, not of glory the way we often think of egotistic people, but of righteousness. She held herself to a standard no reasonable person could ever live up to, and it crushed her as it came crashing down.
And yet, she was a victim all the same. Because she was walked, hand-in-hand, to that pier by a predator. Children are meant to learn from their mistakes. Not to die for them.
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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 1 year ago
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I know theres a lot ot talk of Hobie's past and I love the idea of BigFamily!Hobie. But may I PLEASE add to the table:
StreetKid!Hobie -
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It's not as happy or wholesome of a backstory as Hobie with a big family, and a big community - but there's still tenderness there I PROMISE.
Like - Maybe Hobie understood what Gwen was going through because he's been through it himself. He knows what it's like.
I like the headcanon that Hobie just...didn't have a family. No tragic backstory or anything. Just the sharp reality that the system lets some kids fall through the cracks.
Because it's a story or reality we hardly ever see, but it's one that exists - being a homeless street kid. We hardly see that story in it's entirety, rather than just the dramatic scenes.
But like STREETKID!HOBIE
He doesn't have anyone to take him to school or buy him uniforms - so he went to the library to teach himself. He doesn't have much money, but the men at the kebab shops know him, the kid that comes in asking for 'anything they've got' , with 2 pounds 50 pence. So they start feeding him, free of charge.
He helps run errands for the old ladies, and they make sure he has clothes for the winter. They'll knit him sweaters and scarves, and give them to him, telling him to run home and get inside, not knowing that might not be an option for him.
But even if they don't know the whole story, the know Hobie the streetkid, who looks tough but has a heart of gold and will help with anything - the kid who'll feed the stray cats before himself.
Most nights, he sleeps at F.E.A.S.T - because we always talk about how great F.E.A.S.T is but never what it's like to actually have to live there as a homeless person for an extended period of time.
The adults know his face, they worry if they don't see him in a bit. They set blankets aside for him, ask him if he's eaten, and for the first time in forever, maybe in his life, he has people who cares - people who want to help.
F.E.A.S.T makes Hobie wanna help people.
And THAT's where he finds his family.
He starts finding other kids too. Older Streetkids start helping him out. They let him squat with them, and show him how to do things like steal electronics, and which shops throw out a bunch of good food at night.
And he starts meeting people, and seeing the teens that'll make him person he is later.
He starts hanging out with them more and more - and they start calling him Hobie.
The take him under their wing. They looked out for him, made sure nobody messed with the youngest of the bunch.
Anywhere they sleep or squat - Hobie does too. And on the nights that it's the worse, that's it too much, or too scary - or the nights where he's just angry at the world,
They're there to remind him there's kindness in the world.
That kindness and joy and having a laugh with the mandem is RADICAL, it's an act of defiance, and a form of power. And that you don't need a big house with the picket fence and 2.5 kids to grow up 'right'.
One of the street kids give him his first patches. They snag him the leather vest he wears today, back when he was tiny and short and he had grow into it.
They taught him everything he knows - from laces code to how to stud a jacket. They start taking him to protests, starts explaining why things are the way they are, how the system is meant to keep people like them down.
They teach him what ACAB means and true anarchy
The first person he ever met wearing blue laces - was a Streetkid. An older kid that Hobie couldn't help but look up to, or even be a little jealous of. A cooler kid with tall leather boots and blue laces.
And when the kid smirked and told him what they meant, Hobie couldn't help but think 'That's SO kickass'.
One night, one of the kids brings a record they stole. They play it on the player - and it's Ramones. Hobie, maybe only 13, hearing rock for the first time.
And he's wide eyed and asking who that is, who's playing the guitar, what's the song name, and the older kids just smirk and chuckle cause they KNOW -
That's when Hobie falls in love with rock.
And Hobie spends his teens with these people, becoming the punk rock anarchist god he is. He learns how to help people like they help him.
Some of those kids are still around, some on their feet now, and some living free, sticking with the life of a Streetkid by choice. Some he sees often - they're the ones he has a laugh with at the pub.
Others, have moved on, or passed away.
And one day Hobie looks around and realizes he's the oldest one now. He looks around and realizes he's the older street kid now. He's the big bro - and he loves it.
Gwen wasn't the only one staying there when she lived with him. She's not the first Society recruit either.
Because of the streetkids that gave him a family, Hobie is who he is - he has a houseboat that always has at least one or two kids staying there, just looking for a place to stay or a meal to eat.
No matter what - Hobie will help.
At to all the StreetKids that came before, Hobie remembers them all - all the help they gave him and all the times they saved him. He hopes that one day, there are people to remember him too, the same way.
Because that's what he wants to be remembered for.
Because he's not a hero - SpiderPunk isn't the hero. Those streetkids were the heroes.
They way they helped him - is the way he helped Gwen.
I need more StreetKid!Hobie SO BAD S OBADDDDLLY
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What if Hobie's brown ideology and fashion and beliefs and his love for everyone around him is a reflection of the very teens who raised him and kept him safe and they're the reason why he does any of this to begin with for the streetkids MY GOODDDDDD
HOBIE BROWN - THE PATRON SAINT OF WARWARD TEENS
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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 years ago
Text
Teeth
Part 13
Masterlist
Warnings: Stalker vibes, confrontations, anxiety.
Photo by shaazjung on Instagram
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"There's something you haven't explained to me." Billy says suddenly.
You pause, from sending your messages, looking across at him from your spot in the passenger seat.
You raise your eyebrows expectantly.
"Why do you think hackers- or people trying to breach security in general- would underestimate the level of sophistication of the system?"
You take a deep breath, lean back.
"Because," You say with a tired sigh, "When they search up the company structure, they'll see me as a consultant."
"You?"
"Female." You clarify.
"You really think that people will make that assumption?"
"Why not? It's been happening for most of my life anyway, I'm just weaponising it now."
He's silent for a long moment.
"I'm sorry that you have to go through that."
"It's fine," You sing, "It means I get to design a system that looks dumb but ruins some fucker's life."
He smiles fondly, glancing over at you.
"Come over to my place next week, I'll do the cooking this time."
You hum, prolonging your response so that it seems like you take some time to decide.
In reality, saying no was never an option.
"Sure, I'd like that."
You don't notice the way his shoulders drop subtly, relaxing, just moments after.
.
It's not as difficult to leave your place alone as it was before.
Sure, for those first few weeks after the robbery, you'd only gone to and from work with Billy and occasionally, one of your friends would accompany you to the supermarket.
Today, when Amy calls to find out of you're still on for later, you pause, and tell her that maybe you're going to try to go by yourself today.
She's quiet for a moment, and you can almost hear her thinking.
"Okay, but please call if you feel even a little bit unsure?" You can hear the worry in her voice, you know that she's thinking about the first time she accompanied you, and you hid in the bathroom for ten minutes cause you thought you were being followed.
"I will, Amy, thank you."
Truthfully, you could never shake the feeling that you were being watched.
It went with you everywhere, like a shadow that just kept coming back no matter how much light you shined on it.
You tried to take deep breaths, and reassure yourself that everything was okay. It was the best you could do.
Billy was the only person that made you feel completely safe, his knowledge and background meant that you could very much trust whenever he said you weren't being followed.
But now? Alone like this, you try not to look over your shoulder too many times when examining apples, or not to freeze up when someone got too close to you.
Overall, at the cashier, you find yourself a little glad that you're able to at least get this far despite anything that may happen later.
It's a step in the right direction for your self-empowerment, a reminder that time can sometimes help repair the damage caused by traumatic events.
You're piling your groceries into the trunk of your car when you hear someone say your name.
Freezing in fear is a normal response for you, but once again, you do your best to breathe through it, and turn.
"Andrew? Hello," you greet.
Your former boss gives you a sharp smile and approaches. You take your time, assessing him as a possible threat.
He looks a bit sallow, the underneath of his eyes are a little grey, possibly with lack of sleep, a shadow of a beard sprouting on the base of his face.
He looks a bit unkempt, his hands in his pockets and you make sure to casually put your trolley between him and you for safety.
"You look like you're doing great." He says, taking in your piles of items, and then carefully looking at you.
You watch his eyes trail down your body and your head lights up with warning signs.
You smile politely, nodding your head.
"I'm fine, I hope you are too." You offer lightly, trying to finish packing your car as quickly as possible.
"Well, when you left, the everyone was counting on Anvil to accept our offer. When he declined, the board decided I wasn't good enough at my job."
You swallow. Is that was this was? A guilt trip?
"I'm sorry to hear that." You state calmly.
He takes a shaky step forward, and you stand your ground looking right at him. You think if he tried something, the shopping cart would come in handy in keeping him away from you.
"It's odd though, I keep playing my last meeting with Russo over and over in my head, and do you know what stood out to me?"
You don't respond.
"What stood out," he continues, "Is that Russo only wanted you."
So this was an accusation.
"Now why would he want someone like you, if you weren't fucking him?"
You press your teeth together angrily.
"Fuck. You." You grit out.
He blinks, having never seen you this angry before. You continue before he has the chance to speak.
"You think I wanted to leave? I left because you kept treating me like shit. Over and over again, and now you think you can come here and accuse me of this? No wonder you got fired when I left, because you couldn't keep taking credit for my work."
"You little bitch." He says taking another step forward until his body is right against the shopping cart. He grips the metal side of it, leaning forward even more in an attempt to get into your space.
"I vouched for you so many times. I'm the reason you got this job in the first place. You were nobody, nothing, until I decided to give you a chance. I've been watching you for a week now, trying to get you alone to talk to you, and you've been hooked to William Russo like dirt under his boot, and you want to tell me you aren't fucking him?"
You feel the fear of realization sink under your skin. Your stomach turns, making you nauseated.
"You've been following me?" You ask, in a much smaller voice than you want to.
He frowns, pushes away from the trolley and turns his back to you for a moment.
"Don't flatter yourself, I only wanted to talk."
He grits out.
You don't say anything, just watching his figure, trying to figure out how to get away from him.
You close your trunk, he watches you return your cart to the little docking station nearby.
"I'm sorry for the way things turned out." You say to him finally, trying to ease the tension.
He studies you for a long moment.
"You can fix this. Bring Russo back to us, they'll take you back, you can vouch for me like I once vouched for you."
"I'm not going to do that."
He grunts angrily, taking steps to approach you.
You back away, but he just keeps coming, he's almost in your personal space when suddenly a hand claps down on his shoulder.
The parking lot security guard looks very stern as he pulls Andrew a safe distance away from you.
"Is this man bothering you?" The security inquires in your direction.
You gulp, thinking that if you said 'yes,' you'd be forced to stand around here for longer.
"A bit, but I just want to leave." You finally say.
The guard nods, standing as a wall between Andrew and you, and you take the out, sliding into your car as fast as you can and reversing out of your park.
You don't look back.
.
'I don't suppose you could spare a moment to come over?' You send in his direction.
You swallow, turning your phone over in your hands, deep in thought.
You phone vibrates, you glance down.
'Be there in 5.'
"It's open." You say, when you hear a knock on the door.
He comes through slowly, no harsh sounds ever present when he's around.
"I know this building is safe, but you really should check before you let people in. What if that wasn't me?"
You don't answer, just staring at him as he locks the door behind him.
You sigh, your feet tucked under you as you lounge on your couch, your third glass of wine cupped securely in your hands.
You look up when he says your name.
You study him the same way he studies you. His hair is wet from a recent shower, but he's dressed comfortably this time, in black sweatpants and a soft green hoodie. He looks so comfortable, and the words 'boyfriend material' spring to mind, your mouth twitches, deep in thought, thinking about what he would say if you said that to him.
"Are you alright?" He asks after studying you.
You nod, taking another long sip of wine. He looks behind you, probably noting the abundance of unpacked groceries on your kitchen counter. You'd brought most of them up, only really worrying about the frozen and refrigerated items before you'd stopped, in favour of the sweet white you were now holding.
"Sometimes, I really hate the field I chose."
Billy looks at you for a moment, trying to read into you, but you know he doesn't have all the information.
"Why?" He asks, stepping forward and dropping into the spot beside you easily.
You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, looking up at him.
"It would be easier. I could have picked the culinary arts instead of this and no one would question if I was sleeping with my boss everytime I did something good."
"Someone accused you of that?" Billy asks evenly, doesn't take his eyes off of you.
You sigh, nodding, swirling your wine around in your little cup- not using a piece of glassware out of fear that you may break it.
"Andrew," You say softly to Billy, despair heavy in the farthes reaches of your mind.
"He followed me, confronted me, accused me, and then tried to bargain with me to come back."
You sigh, sniffling for a brief moment, fighting the pressure behind your eyes as tears pool.
You blink quickly to stop them from falling.
"He told me that I would be nothing without him. And all the way home I kept thinking that if I'd just picked something else, anything else, I might be a little bit happier."
A teardrop splashes into your wine, you wipe at it quickly.
He lets out a slow breath and you glance up at him in surprise, half realising that he's still here, watching you.
His dark eyes are tender, studying you in great detail before lifting a hand and crooking two fingers at you.
"Come here." Is all he says.
You breathe out a rush of air, knocking back the last two moutfuls of wine in your cup before setting the item on the little table in front of you.
You move slowly, giving him a chance to change his mind, leaning into him, and slowly resting your head into the crook of his neck.
His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer until you're half seated in his lap.
There's just a rightness to being in his arms that finally breaks the dam inside of you. You let out a little sob, and his arms tighten around you as your body begins to shake as you cry.
"Sorry," you hiccup, "I- I'm sorry."
He shushes you softly, his cheek resting on the top of your head.
You feel small in his arms, a fragile thing made to be picked up and cared for and he very sensation makes you cry harder because it feels good, and you find yourself unable to gather the strength to think about pulling away from him. His scent is around you, his body pressed so tightly to yours that there's no gap between you.
There's a small abstract moment in your head, that you're able to identify a wholeness that wasn't there before.
You shiver, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, noting the feeling that you'd never realised you were missing something until he took you into his arms.
His thumbs wipe at your fresh tears, pushing them back, forcing them away.
You press your head back against his chest, shudders out a sigh as his arms go right back around you.
"There's so much I want to say," Billy starts, "I don't even know where too begin."
You sniffle.
"You don't have to." You murmur, hoping that he doesn't feel obligated to comfort you with his words.
You feel your head begin to swim as your third glass of wine begins to catch up to you.
"When I started Anvil, I had nothing." He says, his voice smooth and deep in your ear.
"There was me, and an idea, and I made a lot of questionable deals in order to get my company started."
You hear him swallow.
"There was one man, he believed that because he gave me a chance when no one else would, that he owned me. He treated me like his own personal dog, and for a couple of years, all I did was whatever he asked."
You listen intently, melting into him as he begins to rub circles into your lower back.
"It took me a while- longer than I'd care to admit- to understand that just because he helped me, it didn't mean I owed him everything. Sure, his generosity was appreciated, but it was my work that took Anvil off the ground, and seeing how far it's come, how far it has yet to go, and how much good it does makes it worthwhile for me."
He takes a moment to catch his breath.
"What I'm saying is, that you don't owe anyone a damn thing. Your successes are your own, because you did them." He makes a little sound of amusement at the back of his throat before continuing, "You're the secret ingredient."
You sniffle, smiling at his words.
"Andrew thinks he gave you these opportunities out of the goodness of his heart, but that's bullshit. You showed him who you were, and he picked you because he thought you were good at your job."
"And you?" You ask, desperate to hear it, "Why did you pick me?"
He makes a tiny huff of amusement.
"Because I love my company," You feel his face press into your hair, "And I wanted to give it the best chance, which is you."
You sigh, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, breathing in that amazing spiced scent, before relaxing fully, turning to a boneless mass in his arms.
"Thank you." You finally say to him.
He makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, you feel the vibration against your cheek.
He doesn't let go, and you have to motivation to pull away.
You're so at ease that you can't help closing your eyes, falling asleep in his arms without a second thought.
.
He holds you for a long while, a stupid smile on his face as he breathes in your strawberry scent.
When he's sure he won't wake you, he slips a hand under your knees, and stands with you in his arms.
You make a little sound, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck.
Billy takes his time, walking you to your bedroom, pulling the covers back and placing you down.
You don't let go of him, clinging like a koala, his eyes widen as you almost pull all of his body weight on top of yourself, he catches his weight on his arms before he crushes you.
He tries to pull away but you're not having it, maneuvering him in your sleep, until he's on his back, and your body is cradled against his, your head on his chest.
He lets out a breath of amusement, raising the hand that isn't pinned under you to stroke you hair.
He hears you hum in bliss and he smiles.
He wants to worship you so badly, kiss every inch of your skin, and then twice over for good measure.
He can't help it, pressing his thumb over the pout of your lips, his heart flipping when you draw even closer to him.
How can he pull himself away from you now? What kind of strength would that take?
Billy thinks about what would happen if he stayed right here beside you, if you wake up in the morning and find him here, you'd probably be so at ease.
He wanted that, he would probably kiss you at some point.
He can feel his heart racing as he thinks about it, kissing you breathless, giving you rounds of uninhibited pleasure, hearing you beg for him as if he would ever deny you.
But what about after?
He swallows, worried about after.
He wouldn't be able to keep himself away from you. Once, would never be enough.
He'd have to have you, over and over and over, never wanting to hide your relationship.
But that would make rumors true, it would invalidate your successes because you were sleeping with your boss.
The breath that escapes him is so pained that it takes him a second to take another.
He'd never forgive himself if he ruined your reputation that way.
He sighs, tracing the back of his hand over your cheeks and listening to the way you sigh.
He knew what you wanted, your body made it crystal clear everytime he was around you, calling out for him, and if he were a weaker man, he'd oblige.
His relationship with control was strained on a good day. The military had helped him focus his anger, train his rage and his bloodlust, but nothing had trained him to control his desire.
As Billy looked at you, sleeping in his arms, he felt his control grinding down with each breath you took.
It was only a matter of time.
.
Alone.
Again.
You sit up, taking a sad breath.
How did he always manage to slip away from you? Why?
What would it take to wake up next to him?
A question that goes unanswered.
In your kitchen, you're stunned to find that all your groceries have been packed away, only a few items in unfamiliar places. A warm feeling in your chest, you almost want to text him and thank him, except that you remember the last time you did that he left you on read. You decide to tell him in person when he's taking you to work.
You get dressed for work like usual, but when you're halfway ready, you pause, thinking about Dani's words from a few days ago.
In an effort to torment him, you shed your fancy work shirt and grab one of the work appropriate dresses in your closet.
It's sky blue, with half sleeves and matching belt. You're not sure if it will even catch his eye, but you decide to try anyway.
Except that when you step out of your aparment building, it's not Billy waiting for you.
You've seen Sergei around before, but you blink in surprise when he nods his head at you, and pulls open the back door of the car he's standing in front of.
Your heart plummets.
He'd sent someone else to pick you up.
You smile at Sergei, asking him for a moment before you pull your phone from your pocket and dial his number.
"Russo." Is what he says when he answers.
"Hey," You greet lightly, trying to be quick, "Did you send someone else to take me to work?"
He's silent for a moment.
"Yes, I-"
"Okay thank you," you interrupt, not interested in hearing what he had to say, "Just checking to make sure. Bye."
You end the call, staring at your phone for a second before shaking your head.
You turn to Sergei, giving him a smile and a word of thanks as you slide into the back seat of the car.
"Do you have any music preferences?" He asks kindly, and you wonder briefly if that was even in the scope of his job.
"Anything is good with me." You respond, crossing your arms and looking out the window angrily as he begins to drive.
You have many hindsight realisations on your way to work, that you really could have driven yourself. The only reason you were okay with Billy taking you is because he was going in the same direction anyway.
This just seemed like way too much time and effort to get you to work.
You try to make excuses for Billy, like maybe something urgent happened at work, or something personal, you didn't really know every aspect of his life now did you?
But you knew in the back of your head, that this was something he always does. He gets close, gives you blissful peace, and then pulls away, ignores you for a few days.
Frankly, you've hit your boiling point, and by the time you get to work, you're fuming.
You drop your things on your desk, and you give your coworker a big smile when she compliments your dress.
You'd worn it for him. Pathetic.
You make it up to his office, smiling at Katerina, his secretary, asking her if he's available and waiting for a yes before you knock on his door and enter when he says.
He doesn't even look up at you.
Taking notes at his desk, and there's just so much anger inside of you that you're not really thinking straight.
"Is there something you need?" He asks flatly, still not sparing you a single glance.
So he knows it's me, you think, and yet somehow he refuses to look up.
It cuts like betrayal.
"I can drive myself to work from now on, thank you."
He pauses, finally, looking up at you.
You watch him swallow.
"I insist, really, it's safer this way." He says.
"But inefficient," you counter, "To have Sergei go out of his way no doubt, when I have a perfectly good car."
He looks like he wants to argue, but can't form the right words.
He stands, eyebrows drawn, coming to stand in front of you.
It's probably a bad idea on his part, given your warped headspace, your eyes drop to his lips for a brief moment, before going back up to his dark eyes when he speaks.
"Very well, if you insist on driving, it's your choice."
You nod sharply, your throat closing up in despair. Was this the end of your friendship?
"Good." You say, no emotion in your tone, "One more thing."
"Yes?" He asks.
You swallow, grabbing the knot of his tie and pulling him down a little, while simultaneously rising onto your toes.
You don't give it a second thought, pressing your mouth to his.
It's like fireworks going off in your head, sparks spilling over and scattering into the farthest reaches of your mind.
You let out a little sigh of bliss into his mouth before releasing your grip on his tie.
You pull back from his mouth, taking a deep breath to apologise when suddenly his hands are on your hips. You feel the way his fingers twitch, as if he's fighting something bigger than you.
You gasp as he pulls you closer, body pressed tightly to his and you look up into his eyes.
He angles his head down, and his mouth is on yours once more.
He returns the kiss this time, with eager hums and steady pressure. It's greater than any other kiss you've ever experienced.
Your chest feels warm, your stomach flips, sizzling sparks work their way over your skin.
Your hands grip his shoulders, snaking their way up behind his neck.
He groans, hot breath into your parted mouth and you accept the sound greedily, more desperate for him than ever before.
He turns you, presses you up against his desk, braces his arms on either side of you for a moment before his hand cups the back of your neck securely.
It's all consuming, the way his mouth moves this way and that, the friction of his beard on your chin the taste of his mouth threatening to undo you.
His blunted fingers pressing tight into your skin, his hands wander your body, reaching for your knee, raising it to wrap around his hip. Your clothed center just barely brushes a hint of stiffness at the front of his pants and all you're thinking in various levels of enthusiasm is 'yes.'
The loud pitch of his ringing phone startles you. You shove him away quickly in surprise, gasping as you slide from your spot between him and his desk.
Your body is hot, cunt throbbing, skin hypersensitive and aching for his hands.
You suck in a big breath, smoothing your hair over in a panicked frenzy and running your hands down your dress.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Had you really just did that? Kissed him when you'd come in here to tell him off?
You try to take another measured breath but Billy seems to have taken all the air in the room with just one touch of his lips.
.
"Russo." Billy says, leaning over the desk, putting his phone on loudspeaker.
"Apologies for interrupting, but Miss Meachum is here and demanding to meet."
Billy huffs, of course he'd be interrupted by a Meachum. The entire family never understood boundaries.
He looks over at you, facing the windows, taking deep breaths and looking more and more flustered by the second.
"Tell her I'll be with her shortly." He says, hanging up right after.
He studies you, the ripe scent of your arousal filling the air. The panther tears at him, to sit you on his desk and follow through with exactly what he was about to do.
When he resists, the beast plants images of you writhing in pleasure as he licks your strawberry sweet cunt. His cock is half-hard, growing more erect with each second his mind replays what it was like to finally have your soft lips on his.
He swallows, opens his mouth to speak.
You beat him to it.
"I'll drive myself to work from now on." You utter harshly.
He watches in disbelief, mouth parted, as you head to the door, opening it and stepping out without so much as a glance at him.
It's all he needs to realize how much he's fucked up.
.
.
.
A/N: sorry 😞
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octuscle · 8 months ago
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You’re so good at transforming others so I was wondering if I could thank you by transforming you. Who do you want to become? 😊💪
I am almost 27 years old. I graduated from university almost two years ago. Since then, I have been working for an auditing company, auditing the risk management systems of banks. Not a particularly erotic job. But well paid. I travel a lot and my working hours are also less from 09:00 to 17:00. Not good conditions for getting back into shape. I used to be a competitive athlete. Open-water swimming. My shoulders and back are still quite broad… But the waist is no longer as narrow as it was in my best days. Well… The course of life, I would say…
Sunday morning. Normally I would sleep in, go somewhere for breakfast, then maybe do a bit of work. But today I feel like going for a run. At 06:00 in the morning. In the drizzle. I'm really crazy! But running clears my head. After just under an hour, I pass an outdoor gym in the city park. Yawning empty in this weather, of course. I really enjoy it! It's almost 10:00 when I get back home. Now for a hot shower. Uh, no. A cold shower! Hardens off. And then breakfast. Low-fat quark, protein powder, bananas, some fruit. Doesn't taste particularly good. But gives me the energy I need. A bit of Resident Evil 3 to relax. And around 3 p.m. I have to make my way to the stadium. Kick-off is at 5:30 p.m., and I'd like to be in my regular place in the south curve at 4 p.m. Getting in the mood with the boys. Highlight of the week!
Hehehe, that was a good brawl with the opponent's fans last night. That's a good black eye… And my lip is still a bit swollen too. Looks a bit dangerous. Despite the crisp white shirt, navy blue suit and polished black Oxfords. Even after a year on the job, I still haven't got used to getting up early on Mondays. Mondays are usually at 03:30. An hour of push-ups and a bit of weights training, as best I can at home. And then get ready, go to the airport and usually the plane takes off at 07:00 or so. And then I'm back to being the good auditor candidate. It's not as if the job isn't fun. But especially after the weekends, which are packed with hard training and fun with the lads in and around the stadium, the changeover is tough. I can only hope that none of my customers or colleagues ask me who beat me up like that at the weekend. I can't say that I'm one of the militant Ultra fans… Well, if anyone asks, I'll say that it happened during boxing training. They'll take my word for it. At the latest when I take off my jacket and people see my shirt, which looks like it's been painted onto my skin, nobody questions the boxer in me anymore.
05:30 on a Tuesday morning. An hour's run, then an hour's workout in the hotel gym, breakfast, 09:00 at the client's desk. A routine that I would never have expected a few weeks ago when I was doing my Master's degree. With your criminal record, the blatant undercut, the tattoos on your neck and the back of your hands, you'll never get a serious job, my parents complained. But damn it, I'm clever, I'm disciplined and I'm hungry for success. In the cage at MMA, in the fan curve at the stadium, at university and now at work. And fuck, when I show up at a customer's in a suit that perfectly accentuates my athletic figure, I'm surrounded by an aura of respect. Even if I'm the rookie in the project. For the first few days, my colleagues tried to persuade me to go out for dinner or a drink with them in the evening. Not in the mood! I found a club near the hotel where I can train properly in the evenings. Not the kind of wimpy workout I get at the hotel.
I'm so fed up with this fucking Master's thesis. Pumping, eating, fighting… This is what I live for! I've been working at the martial arts school since I got my bachelor's degree. On the one hand in accounting. And also as a trainer. Shit, why do I even want anything else? Would I like it better if I became an desk jockey in some office? I suspect not.
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I love the moment when I open my gym in the morning. The sweat from last night is still in the air. Whoever had the last shift yesterday didn't leave anything tidy. I do my rounds and stuff forgotten socks, jockstraps and water bottles into the lost-and-found box. Okay, I wank on it again first. There's nothing like the smell of a used jockstrap that's still a little damp. I don't officially open for another hour, so I have that long to get my body ready for the day with the weights and sandbag. Let's see how full it gets. The place isn't yet self-sustaining. But with my jobs as a bouncer and my OF account, I'm more than able to keep my head above water. At least my tattoo artist doesn't have to worry about me not paying my bills. It's better that way. After all, it's his job to make sure I'm scary!
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samoankpoper21 · 7 months ago
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With Love, Oikawa
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A/N Still reeling from the loss of my cousin '^^ It's not an easy experience to lose someone, it never will be. Surround yourselves with your loved ones, tell them you love them daily because you never know when they'll pass. I'm glad I was able to tell my cousin that I loved him before he passed so please don't mind this post '^^ I just needed to get this out of my system ^^ hope that makes sense and as usual hope y'all enjoy this drabble. T/W: Small mention of unaliving oneself
Word count: 1880
It was a freak accident. At least that's how the doctor's described it.
Morning of you woke up and your inner being was off, something felt misaligned. You peered over to your smirking husband as he reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. "Morning love."
"Morning." you whispered. Years of dating and 2 years of marriage Oikawa could sense when something was bothering you. His eyebrows scrunched together studying your face. "What's wrong?" Taking a shaky breath you answered, "Honestly I don't know. I woke up feeling...weird."
"Anything I can do to alleviate that weirdness?" he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively pulling you closer to him. You giggle giving him an eskimo kiss. "I'm sure it's nothing babe." You both lay there staring at each other, the love for one another apparent in your eyes. He sighs contently kissing your forehead. "What did I do to deserve you?" you hum in response. "Come on babe, gotta get ready for work." He groaned, interlocking your legs together. "Gimme 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes."
"Babe I would love to but I have an important meeting today." He pouted hugging you impossibly tighter. You couldn't resist his pouty face so you chuckled, hugging him back promising, "5 minutes top Toru."
"Yes!"
15 minutes had passed and Oikawa was walking you to the door watching as you slipped your flats on. "What do you feel like eating for dinner babe?"
"You know I'm fine with-you know what, scratch that. Maybe bone broth soup? It's starting to get cold."
"Ok love, I'll get it from that shop in town."
"You're a god send."
"You're just now realizing." You pinched his arm pulling him close. Leaning down to your height, cupping your face, he says, "I love you you know that? Not more than myself but you're alright." You giggled lightly smacking his arm. "I guess you're alright too." He pecked you once, twice, the third time his arms snaking around your plush waist pulling you close, your hands instantly weaving in his light brown locks, his cologne and scent filling your nostrils. "Okay, okay I have to go. Seriously Toru." Trying to pry his arms away from you he pouted dramatically. "What am I gonna do without you for 8 whole hours?"
"Babe you're more than enough entertainment for yourself. Chill."
"You're right. I am pretty awesome." Chuckling, shaking your head, you gave him a quick peck again turning around to wave at him. "I love you."
"Love you more."
The meetings seemed to drag forever. You just wanted to rush home into your husband's arms as he held you. Just one more hour. This was the mantra that was getting you through this work week. It finally hit 5PM and you rushed to the kiosk swiping your card. "Bye everyone! Have a good weekend! Good work today!" you rushed out bowing to your superiors before rushing to your car pushing on the accelerator. Pulling into the driveway you noticed Toru's car not there. Probably went to get dinner. Stepping out you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet your neighborhood was. Usually there would be some type of noise but everything was...still. You tried shaking off the anxious, dreadful feeling that stayed with you since the morning but it just wouldn't dissipate. Slipping off your shoes at the entrance you changed into your house slippers when the shrill notes of your ringtone broke the silence. Frowning at the unrecognized number you debated on whether you should ignore the call but something in you urged, nagged, you to pick up. "Hello?"
"Hello is this Mrs. Oikawa?"
"This is she."
"My name is Ito Asahi. I'm calling from Midori hospital in regards to your husband." With a quivering voice and shaky hands you ask, "Is...is he ok?"
"Your husband was involved in an accident."
"I don't-I don't understand." the dispatch cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the news he was about to deliver. "Mrs. Oikawa, your husband was hit head on by a drunk driver and was pronounced dead-" the phone dropped, everything sounding muffled, your breathing ragged. You clutched at your chest, tears falling down your eyes, trying to focus on what to do next. Why was it so got damn hard to breathe? "Mrs. Oikawa? Mrs. Oikawa? Mrs. Oikawa?!" Ito's voice slowly brought you back, your hearing now accompanied by a ringing in your ear. "He...he's dead?"
"I'm sorry." you broke down sobbing clutching at your chest. Fumbling for your phone you dialed Hajime. "Hey Y/N-chan."
"Ha-Hajime," your voice broke.
"Y/N? What's wrong? Are you ok? Is everything ok?"
"T-T-Toru,"
"What about him? Did he hurt you?" shaking your head you continued. "T-T-Toru -hic- i-is -hic gone. -hic- He's gone Hajime!" The sound of shoes fumbling and keys being thrown into a pocket could be heard when Hajime blurts out, "Stay there I'm coming to get you."
Hajime found you sitting on the floor in the dark staring numbly ahead. Gently he helped you up, put on your shoes and coat, and asked where Oikawa was. Surprisingly you were able to utter, "Midori Hospital." The drive there was silent, Hajime having already called your mother-in-law. You watched as the green trees and pink hued sky zoomed by, your ears still ringing. The emergency room doors slid open, the bustling of the the patients being wheeled past and nurses zooming by brought you back to the present. You could hear monitors beeping, the intercom paging a doctor to the maternity ward, nurses taking note of vitals from patients sitting out in the lobby. Hajime lead you to the reception area stating, "Hello. We're looking for an Oikawa Toru." the nurse quickly clacked away at her keyboard when she affirms, "Go through the double doors on your left hand side, his room is 1-B which will be on your right. We were waiting for next of kin before wheeling him away."
"Thank you."
You were numb. Everything felt off. It was as if your body was merely a shell and you were just a third party watching, observing as you and Hajime made your way to his room. With shaky hands, Hajime slowly peeled the green curtains back only to find Oikawa's lifeless form covered by a white and green plaid blanket. "Oi," Hajime's voice broke. "Oi trashy-kun wake up. Wake up! Oikawa Toru wake up!" the sobs began racking through Hajime's body, you began rubbing his back. Shortly after your mother-in-law appeared beside you, her shrill wailing piercing the air, your tears silently falling.
The funeral procession went by smoothly and quickly, you being on autopilot. Former and present teammates came to wish their condolences. You instantly recognized the short, orange haired wing spiker and Oikawa's junior setter looking down cast for the first time. "Thank you for being here." you mutter. Numbly you watched as the casket lowered into the ground, the thud of the casket deafening. Iwaizumi escorted you home. "Are you sure you'll be ok Y/N-chan?"
"I'll be fine thank you Hajime."
"Are you sure? If you need anything-"
"I just...I just need time alone." Worried he gave you one last glance before engulfing you in a hug. "Call me? For anything."
"I will." The door silently clicked close as you dragged your feet towards your shared bedroom. Plopping down on the bed you clutched and inhaled Oikawa's San Juan jersey. You got a whiff of his scent and cologne, the dam you tried to hold in your chest finally bursting. Your sobs came out in waves racking your whole body folding the jersey within the confines of your pudgy body, your chest.
4 months later
Since Oikawa's passing you have been on leave for bereavement; you weren't ready to face work, reality really. Hajime and your mother-in-law made it a habit to check in on you; concerned when you brought it to their attention that you would be taking a trip to Kamakura. You reassured them that you would be okay and that you had no intention of ending your life. Walking the shores of Kamakura you peered out towards the ocean with Oikawa's jersey in your beach bag. Laying your towel down in a spot near the shade, you took out your notebook, his jersey and began journaling.
Hi babe, it's me again. It's been 4 months since you've been gone and I can't say that it's getting easier. Hajime and mom have been checking up on me regularly, making sure that I put a little something in my stomach, especially on the days that I don't feel like it. Remember babe when you promised me that we would go to the beach? You kept telling me about how beautiful the beaches in San Juan were and how they don't compare to your beauty so I'm taking a solo trip to Kamakura. I figured this beach is probably on par as San Juan and your essence ha ha ha. How are you? I miss you. I'm taking it minute by minute, the whole bullshit about taking it day by day is hard. As each day comes to a close it gets hard to sleep because I'm always expecting you to come through the door yelling, 'Baaaaaaabeeee I'm hooooooomeeeee.' Each day has its struggles. Some days I'm okay, other days I find myself sobbing nonstop, others I sit there numbly staring at the wall. Pathetic huh? I just know you're probably giving me shit about not doing things extravagantly ha ha ha When is this gonna end? This empty feeling I mean. Since you left there's a gaping hole in my heart that will be tough to fill. Tough but not impossible. You wouldn't be you if you didn't leave me with a little surprise. I found out earlier this week that I'm pregnant. We're having a boy baby! Can you believe it?! When the doctor told me I had tears of joy, sadness, and just remember this feeling of being scared. How am I gonna do this without you? :(( I'm thinking of naming our son either Touki for winter pleasure since that's when he's due or Towa for eternal peace; I'm leaning towards Towa kekeke Oikawa Touki? Oikawa Towa? Has a funny ring to it ^^ What do you think? I've already told mom and Hajime that I have news for them once I get back home late tonight. I want them to be the first to know. I miss you babe. I love you. I will tell our son all about how flamboyant, egotistical, loving, and romantic his dad was and how amazing of a setter you were. Are you playing up there? Wherever you are. Every time I see a clear, starry night it takes me back to when you asked me to marry you^^ Sorry. I know I'm going all over the place but I just really, really, really wanted to let you know that I love you. so so very much. And I miss you more than words can describe. Talk to you later. Sending kisses to the sky. Wait for me my love. I have a lot of work to do here before I can join you^^ love love love you. With love, Y/N.
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hadesoftheladies · 1 year ago
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"Not All Men" is a War Propaganda Tactic
i just watched a tragic documentary on the british colonial regime in kenya with my mom and dad, and they were talking to me about the experiences of my grandparents during the era of slavery, resistance and concentration camps and i learned so much about the history of my family, country and tribe and how my mom and dad came from different sides of class history in kenya
that's a story i'll share later on here sometime
but one thing that struck me that i wanted to talk about was how documents indicting the british government of horrific cruelty were buried and sometimes addressed as isolated incidents
the british government, despite the uncovering of the hanslope disclosure files, denied that they sanctioned or approved of any of those things
systemically sanctioned practices, once exposed, were then announced to be isolated events due to the irresponsibility of a particular branch or administration
basically, when the human rights violations came up (and this was addressed in i think 2013), the british government denied direct involvement and acted as if it were just a few men gone rogue
and that propaganda WORKED
there are british people today (and even some kenyans) who don't think the colonial regime was all that oppressive; maybe legally wrong, but not monstrous and sordid and grotesque
and it really is an effective war tactic to blame individuals so that the system itself is ignored. you send concerned, everyday people chasing after villains in narratives you created, throwing your minions to the wolves so they're off your trail, while insisting that the system and the people who uphold the system are at worst benign and, at best benevolent
so it stops the people from organizing against the system
this is also the case with feminism
every time women participate in consciousness-raising, the people and events that would serve as proof of the failure of the system and how those in power are unfit to rule, the conversation quickly dissolves into "not all men" or "do you think women are naturally more moral than men? that's bio-essentialism."
guys . . . this is a tried and true propaganda war tactic. it is effective because not only does it distract anyone willing to do their part to make the world a better place, but it successfully discredits the evidence and voices of victims as "fringe" and no one's fault but the individual's. it's really just a form of gaslighting.
eventually, people end up getting mad at the tumors while not dealing with or seeing cancer. they'll denounce that convicted serial rapist/killer because his crimes are visible, provocative and out there
but the moment a woman opens her mouth to criticize rape as culture in bdsm or porn, it's "not all men" because the only bad men are those men, those bad ones on tv whose mugshots we've seen
we've seen this happen with men defending andrew tate, and then backing down when he's arrested for human trafficking, but no feminist was shocked because we recognized tate's rhetoric and the system it was born in, we saw the natural conclusions, we know where the tumor is coming from
but we're only supposed to talk about the tumor, because that's the most visible and provocative
so the cancer continues to spread quietly and freely
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jayswritings13 · 20 days ago
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Multi: This is Halloween
Summary: Spending Halloween with them
Includes: DJ (Total Drama), Demetri (Cobra Kai), Raph (2012 TMNT), Eddy (Ed, Edd, n Eddy), Daphne, Fred, Velma, & Shaggy (Scooby Doo) & Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
💗Masterlist | AO3
DJ (Total Drama) - Watching Scary movies
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"Okay, tonight is your pick." You said, settling in next to DJ on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you, setting your head on DJ's shoulder. Friday night movies have been a long standing tradition, along with switching who picks the movies. It's a good system. Well, mostly.
"I choose this one." DJ said, pointing to your beloved copy of The Shining.
"Are you sure that you can handle it, DJ? I can still switch the movie to something else."
"Na-nah, I can han-handle this."
"DJ...." You eyed DJ, shifting your head off of his shoulder. "I mean it. We do not have to watch this. I know that you hate this shit."
"But you love it." DJ said, "And I want to make you happy."
"DJ......" You paused, "That's so sweet, but you hate scary movies. And I know that you love me, but I also love you. So, please don't put that movie on, hun. I know that you really don't want to."
"Oh, thank you!" DJ said, smiling brightly, as you switched the tv from The Shining to Hocus Pocus. "Thank you. I wasn't sure how I was going to follow through on that honestly."
"I know." You laughed, "But I appreciate the effort, DJ." You went back to originally spot, snuggled up against DJ. "I do, but I think this is better."
"You do..? Are you sure..?"
"Mmhhh." You nodded. "I'm sure. Now you better keep it quiet during the 'I put a Spell on you' scene." You glance his way, "Or, this is the last movie night we do." You added, causing DJ to chuckle a bit.
Demetri (Cobra Kai) - Decorating
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"Up a little higher, to the left."
"Like this..?"
"Lower, lower, lower ...... Stop, that's it. Right there." Demetri said, as you pinned the sign to the wall.
"Next time, you're going up. You're taller." You huffed, standing next to him.
"This was your idea."
"Oh please, like you're not having a good time staring at my ass while I was up there." You added, cutting off any protest or excuse he could have had, "Now help me with these ghost outside."
"How much more is there left....?"
"Another box and a half, D." You said, handing him a plastic ghost.
"What's so special about Halloween, anyway?" Demetri huffed, following you outside, plastic ghost in hand.
"Don't you dare say that in front of me Demetri." You warned, pushing the plastic ghost into the ground. "Halloween is the best time of year. So, I can't help it if I go all out."
"All out?! You have more Halloween decorations than Spirit Halloween."
"Now, I know that you're just being mean. I don't have that much." You said, "But, I do appreciate the help. It takes me forever to put this stuff up every year. So, thank you for that D."
"With the amount the stuff, you owe me." Demetri huffed, sticking the second ghost alongside yours.
"I think that we can work something out." You grinned, "Who knows? Maybe I'll change your mind on Halloween...?"
"I'd like to see you try."
Daphne, Fred, Velma, & Shaggy (Scooby Doo) - Haunted House
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"I thought that today was our day off."
"I don't think that we really ever get a day off, Shaggy." Fred said, following you closer towards the looming haunted house.
"Besides, this will be different." You said. "I just know it."
"Yeah, we're paying to go in!"
"Shaggy, we'll be fine." Velma said, "These people are paid minimum wage, so they'll probably put in minimum effort."
"I don't know about that...." Fred grumbled, watching two people run out screaming.
"C'mon guys, it'll be fun!" You said, "I never tag along on your adventures, so this is the one time that I can join."
"Of course this will be great. Right guys?" Daphne said, staring between the other three: Fred, Velma, and Shaggy. "Right guys?" She emphasized, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Right." They said in unison, as you grinned brightly.
"Oh! Thank you! I promise that you won't regret it." You said, pulling the others into a hug. "I heard that this is the best of the best in town."
"Which mean it'll be third best from what we've seen," Velma snickered to Fred, causing Daphne to elbow her. "Ow, hey!"
"What Velma means is...." Daphne said, "I'm sure that it's great."
"Yeah! Lead the way!" Fred boasted.
"You won't be the only one scared, Shag." You said, "I'll be too. Stick you me." You grabbed his hand, giving him a smile, as you all entered closer and closer to the entrance of the Haunted House.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
Eddy (Ed, Edd, 'n Eddy) - Costume Contest
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"What are you supposed to be?"
"I'm a mobster, duh."
"Huh, that would not have been my first guess." You said, causing the shortest Ed to groan.
"Then you have no taste," He paused, taking in your costume, "Clearly...."
"Ok, Clyde, take one guess at my costume, then." You challenge. "If dislike it so much, you must know what it is."
"Of course I know what it is! Give a guy a second, jeez!" Eddy rolled his eyes, taking a minute to look over your costume. "Uh.... a witch....?"
"Wow... you're bad at this." You snorted, "Guess I can consider the prize all mine, then."
"Please.... If I can't tell what you are, how are you gonna win!? It's gonna be me who takes home that prize money, sweetheart."
"Sure, Why don't you take that smug attitude and sh-Double D, wait!" You said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "Just the person I wanted to see."
"Greetings (Y/N). Fantastic and accurate Aphrodite costume."
"Aw, well thank you Double D." You said, keeping your eyes on Eddy's fuming form.
"What?! Who is Aphro-Abhro whatever!?"
"Aphrodite, Eddy. Aphrodite is the greek goddess of love, beauty, and pleasure. We learned about her in History class."
"Thank you Double D." You said, letting your grip go on him, watching as he slinked forward into the crowd of other party goers in costumes.
"So, brainiac knows who you are? Big deal!" Eddy said, "There ain't no way that you're gonna beat me in this contest."
"Wanna bet?" You said, "Winner gets the Loser's Halloween Candy, the prize money, and gets to pick the loser's costume next year."
"Oh, you got a deal."
Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) - Handing out Candy
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"Remember the order, Beej. It's important."
"Of course, of course." Beetlejuice waved you off, grinning. "It's not my first Halloween, babes." He grabbed the candy bowl off the table. "Now, I got some suckers to see."
"Beej...."
"I said, to give suckers too! Calm down!" Beetlejuice yelled, quickly opening the door before you had time to respond. "Trick or treat?"
"Um..... don't we say that." You peaked over Beej's shoulder, finding a group of small children. A little girl in a fairy princess costume stepped up.
"Okay!" You said, stepping forward, grabbing some candy out of the bowl that Beetlejuice was holding, and dropping it in the little girl's bag. "Here you go. Happy Halloween!" You said, watching the little girl run down towards her mom on the street.
"What gives, babes? Don't trust me....?" He pleaded, big ol' dark eyes staring up at you.
"Beej... I think that we should play to your strengths.... Maybe I take all the kids under 12 and you handle the older kids with tame scares."
"Tame....? Ah, babes, there's nothing tame 'bout me."
"Beetlej-"
"Ah, not the B word, babes. Can't end the party before it started." Beetlejuice said, "I'll play by your dumb rules. But, if a 16 year comes up here, I will not be held back on my scares."
"Fine. You have a deal."
"You will not regret this babes."
"I hope not," You said, "But for now, stop eating the candy, B. That's for the trick or treaters!" You snatched a mini Twix out of his hand.
Raph (TMNT 2012) - Pumpkin Carving
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"What is that supposed to be?"
"A face!" You grinned, turning your pumpkin so Raph could see. "Or well, it was supposed to be a face."
"Why are we doing this again?" Raph asked, "Because it seems like a waste of pumpkins."
"It's fun!"
"I'm covered in pumpkin guts. I wouldn't call that fun." Raph snarked, his slight frown growing into a smile at hearing your laugh.
"C'mon, try it. We'll put candles in them and put them out."
"Why?"
"Because it looks cool, Raph. And it'll look cool while we watch our movie later."
"Fine." Raph grinned, watching you continue on with carving out a face on the pumpkin. "Though, still sounds like a fire waiting to happen."
"Well, good thing that you guys already have a fire extinguisher from Donnie's many explosions, hhhmmm?"
"Yeah, yeah. Hand me the knife." Raph grumbled, taking the knife from your hand, and continuing onward to puncture the pumpkin. "Does it have to be a face..?"
"No, it can be anything really." You said, "First time...?"
"Well, between constantly training and saving the city, didn't think to add stabbing pumpkins to the list."
"Carving. We're carving pumpkins. Not stabbing them." You pushed your completed pumpkin towards him, showcasing the bat design carved in the front of the pumpkin.
"Same difference."
Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel) - Fall baking
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"These are looking great, Pen." You said, placing another sheet of cookies on top of the stove to cool before icing them. "Secret recipe..?"
"Not really," Sir Pentious bashfully smiled, continuing to mix another bowl of cookie dough batter. "Jussst sssomething I learned down here."
"There's cooking classes in Hell...?" You laughed. "Sign me up!"
"Well, I- ah- I could teach you." Sir Pentious said, "I mean, I wouldn't sssay that I'm the bessst or anything. But I would enjoy the company and all. Only if you'd wa-"
"I'd love that Pen!" You said, cutting him off from any further rambling. "You're the best!"
"Of courssse. Anything...Ah!" Sir Pentious yelped, pulling back his hand from the hot pan he had just touched.
"Pen, do you need help? Are you okay?"
"I am fine," He said, wincing as felt you grab his burnt hand.
"You're gonna need some aloe. I'm gonna grab the first aid kit, Pen." You said, running back towards the entrance of the kitchen, and grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet.
"I can handle that, my dear. The resst of the cookiess ne-"
"And that can wait, Pen. Let me help you." You smiled, walking back over to him. "Here." You grabbed his hand, gently dabbing some aloe of his burn. "This will help."
"Thank you, my dear." You couldn't help but smile at the bright red flush on his face.
"Of course," You grinned, "Now be careful or you won't be teaching me anything."
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mybworlds · 10 months ago
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CHAPTER 4
status: ongoing
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…
rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)
Masterlist
Before to start... thank you for your support and likes, and please remember English is not my first language, so be kind!
Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner
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The following day, you start your shift at 6 A.M. It's freezing. People come in with gloves, hats, thick scarves and snow boots.
"It's going to be a tough shift." says Helen, one of your few close friends "I lit the fire, but it seems to be a wiring problem." she adds with a snort, while you turn on the various equipments, detach the arm of the coffee machine, and you start cleaning and maintenance everything.
"Don't worry. Surely things will improve in a while," you say in a vain attempt to think positive and think that everything can't ever be all bad.
"A large coffee." says one of the first customers. You quickly prepare everything and serve it.
"A cappuccino." says someone else.
"A coffee with vodka." you're practically spinning like a top.
It's almost 7 A. M. and you find yourself yawning, tired. Maybe due to your hard shift and the night spent thinking about those sweet dark eyes and that face that somehow bewitched you.
"Didn' sleep?" asks a voice while you're yawning that forces you to cover your mouth and eye-popping.
It's Joel.
A gnns-like response comes out of your mouth that makes him smile.
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"What are you doing here?" you ask him. It's an obvious question considering you are in a coffee shop.
"I'd like a coffee." he replies shrugging his shoulders.
Only then, you look at him more carefully, his dark curly hair messed up as if he just run his hand through his hair, he is wearing a dark jacket and dark pants.
"Comin' right up." you say running behind the counter, your hands trembling.
"So, you work here?" he asks sitting on a stool on the other side of the counter.
"Yes." you reply, looking at the coffee grinder into which you drop the mixture.
You feel his eyes follow you every step of the way, and you feel uncomfortable for the first time. It's something practically every customer does, but if it's Joel, well it's different. It's not the first time he does, he did it yesterday in class too, but it's different here in your workplace. It's as if he's entered a personal sphere of you, and allowing him to look inside makes you feel like violated.
You shake your head, it's just a job and he's just a customer you're making coffee, nothing more.
Helen looks first at you and then at him, then back at you with a complicit and amused look and serves breakfast to another customer.
"Nice place." he says looking around "Are croissants fresh?" he asks you.
"Given the temperature they'll be frozen!" you exclaim smiling looking in his direction and making him chuckle.
"Good one!" he agrees "Actually, it's freezing here." he adds looking around.
"The heating system isn't working properly today!" interjects Helen.
Joel looks at her with raised eyebrows, then his eyes wander over her and you "Just today or even past few days?" he asks as he gets up from his stool.
"It's … at least three days," you say shrugging your shoulders.
"And you work here in a freezer!" he bursts out shaking his head "When you call someone to fix it?! You'll catch a pneumonia, girls," he adds.
"It's okay, we're not kids," you reply using an offended tone.
"Where's the boiler? I'll take a look." says Joel looking around.
"Don't worry, you don't have to." you say, at the same time Helen says, "Over there, behin' the door."
Joel thanks her and walks away, you shoot your friend a disapproving look "What?" she asks.
"Why did you tell him to do that?"
"Is there anything you want to tell me?" she asks you, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. You hate when she assumes that pose.
"He's my music teacher, okay?" you tell her looking to the door where Joel walked in.
"He looks like someone who knows what's up," she says.
You nod, pursing your lips.
"And he's very handsome too," she adds.
"Stop it!" you claim, widening your eyes.
"Are you jealous?" she asks giving you a little nudge.
"What? No. He's not my type." you reply, although you realize you can't tell or be absolutely certain.
"That's everyone's type." she winks at you, "If I introduced him to Gina, she would probably give him a blowjob by now."
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"Ssshhh!" you shut her "Not now and not here. It bothers me when you talk openly about these things!"
Helen laughs winking at you "Go and see if your non-type needs help or a hand."
You glare at her before stepping out from behind the counter and going to see.
"May I come in?" you say softly, opening the door; Joel is right back there. His gaze is so absorbed that he gives you an almost stern look, but then in a few seconds he gives you a gentle and sweet look "How's it going? Can you figure it out?"
He gives you a little smile and replies, "This is a small part of my job. You know, among other things, I like to carve wood and make small sculptures. I think you watched 'em." you nod, remembering about those small wood carvings reproducing animals.
"Is there anything you're not good at?" you ask smiling at him and making him smile.
"There are many things I can't do."
"Give me an example."
"The way you prepared coffee, the best I can do is to put in a waffle."
You smile, shaking your head, "It's very simple instead. You'd learn immediately with a little practice."
He smiles again to turn his attention back to the boiler, you see him intent on tightening the bolts with a tool that you never seen the point or its specific name. You watch his big hands and feel a strange sensation to think about how they can be so gentle playing a guitar and so strong fixing a boiler.
"That's it! Everything should work now, go turn it on." you do it immediately "Good and now let's have breakfast!" he exclaims "Ah, wait a minute where is the bathroom? I need to wash my hands." he says.
You point to a door on the left so he can use the bathroom.
You, meanwhile, return behind the counter; two more customers have arrived who fortunately want a coffee only and leave.
After a while, Joel returns with a huge smile and sits on the same stool as before.
"Before you mentioned about the croissants," he says, "What's today's flavor?"
"Cream croissant, croissant with apricot, cherry cornetti, chocolate croissant, simple croissant. If I may suggest, I recommend a honey cornetto, it's heavenly." you say with a smile.
He smiles looking in your eyes, "Have you tried it? From the look on your face I'd say so."
You get close placing your forearms on the counter so you can be very close to him "Well, I can tell you, I stole it once and that was my lunch. It was the best thing about that day."
Only then, you realize you got too close, swallowing hard, you're mesmerized by those melted chocolate eyes.
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"All right. Let's go with Honey cornetto." he says without breaking eye contact with you "Two."
You smile back at him, returning his gaze and moving away from him to take the croissants "You eat 'em now?"
"No, thank you. Could ya put 'em in a bag?" he asks you.
You just nod with a little smile.
"When are you going to dip his fingers in your honey jar?" Helen asks you in an ear making your eyes roll.
"Helen!" you exclaim, pushing her.
"Thank God he was boring! I'd like someone like him would teach me something every day," she says glancing at Joel.
"Helen, stop it! And then lower your voice, don't make a bad impression!" you exclaim in shock.
"I'm making these appreciations, not you!" she retorts with a complicit smile "Besides, judging by the way you've approached and the way he's staring at you dumbfounded…my guess is there's something going on!"
"Stop it!" you exclaim, turning away from her and approaching Joel.
"Tonight you tell us everything," she adds as a threat.
You look back at her and slip out something like I kill you, she smiles naively and goes back to work.
When you look at Joel, you realize he is watching you with curiosity "Are you okay? Did your friend say too much?"
Gotcha.
"Yes." you immediately try to change the topic giving him the croissants "She's like that, so what - what are we going to do later?" you ask him.
"What did she tell you that was so special to make you blush like that?" he persists.
"Um, no, nothing. You'd laugh, maybe," you answer evasively.
"About you? I don't think so." he says without looking away from you and grabbing the bag you are handing him "Go ahead!"
You widen your eyes "Um…" if it's possible you blush even more "no, it's nothing. Um, I was just falling before with some coffee and croissants, that's all." you say without sharing a look.
You're absolutely sure he didn't believe your answer, but he decides not to ask more questions.
So much better!
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When you leave the bar at the end of your shift, you find Joel's SUV outside. He honks his horn and you pull up, open the door, and immediately you are greeted by the hot air conditioning in the cabin and that warm smile that has been accompanying your days recently.
"Hi." you say as you relax into the seat.
"Hi." he says and then pulls off his gloves and leans toward you and, in a gesture that surprises you greatly, takes your hands in his. His hands are so big that yours feel like a child's by comparison. His are so warm, so….
You almost feel like you're coming short of that feeling, that warmth, and not just physical; something warms inside you. Something unfamiliar that makes your heart flutter once again.
"Good thing, I can feel you've been warm," he comments, smiling at you and making you smile.
"Yes, well a guy came today. He wanted to have breakfast, but then he had the goodness to fix the boiler!" you exclaim jokingly about the episode.
"Oh yeah?" he asks you "Do I know him?" he adds mockingly, turning away from you.
"Um, I think so, you know," you say "He's a good man, confident, witty, smart."
"He seems like a clever guy." he remarks, releasing the hand brake and putting on the right-hand blinker.
"Yes. Although he does everything to seem obnoxious," you tease him.
"So, I must know him, we'll get along fine!" he exclaims, smiling and turning his gaze toward you.
See him so relaxed and happy warms your heart.
You share a serene and happy look, a look that makes your stomach clench in a so new and so unique feeling.
"Besides, if he goes to that place, he definitely drinks the best coffee in town!" he exclaims, making you blush.
"It's due to the mixture, it's not me," you whisper, lowering your gaze.
He calls your name and you look up meeting his eyes "Never look down. You're a good kid, you're sweet, you're polite, you lack nothing to be less than others." he reminds you making you feel special for a moment, you who have always been like a fish out of water, out of place, partly because of your manly nature and partly because of how your mother treats you. You always thought that no one appreciates you beyond your dullness.
You smile at him, "Thank you."
He smiles "And then I like your sweetness mixed with the will to fight all the time." he says reaching out a hand to your face and caressing your cheek with the back of his hand in a very sweet gesture.
"You're perfect just the way you're." he tells you, making you widen your eyes in wonder. You are almost shocked by his words.
"I don't… I don't know what to say."
And it's true, you don't know what to say. What do you say when someone - someone like him - tells you that you're perfect just the way you are?
He smiles at you, "Don't say anything."
You don't really know why your eyes rest on his lips, they're so perfect, they're -- you've never wanted a kiss like in that moment. You've already kissed or, rather, been kissed a couple of times at school, but the feeling wasn't as good or romantic as you would have liked or hoped, and most of all maybe the two boys weren't people you'd want to kiss as much as you'd want to kiss Joel Miller right now.
A horn honks not so far from you breaking that flow of thoughts and bringing Jack back to your mind.
You'd like to know Jack, you feel there may be a connection with him, but at the same time you want to know Joel and you enjoy his company.
You remain almost silent on the road to his house, or at least you think you are going there, you just give each other long silent glances.
You don't know how it's possible, but between the you of you it's growing a singular and curious relationship in such a short time, it's so natural, so willing. You feel as if you're crossed by unexpected and unfamiliar shocks that shake and shock you at the same time. Joel is this shock, his warm dark eyes, his hypnotic gaze, his smile or even just that little grin that ripples one corner of his mouth creating those extremely sexy wrinkles.
You never thought you'd look at wrinkles as something sexy in a man. But as you've had occasion to think several times these days, Joel is an exception.
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"Can I ask you something?" he says breaking the silence.
"Sure." you answer, looking at him.
"Why did you treat me that way when we first met?"
You remember the feeling you got at first sight, a fine - looking man, dark eyes, grim look at first and then curious, hands on hips, but most of all the way he talked to you, sharply and most of all he hurt your feelings.
"Hear those words like get back to your bubble or hurry back to Mommy … they … kind of shook me up, that is. No one had ever spoken to me like that, no one had hurt me like that in that tone," you answer him.
"And did I?" he asks you.
"Yes." you decide to be honest. It hurt you. "That's why I used that tone with you." you see him nod "Do you still think I'm a little thing that just shuts up and keeps quiet?"
He looks at you with a half-smile "'m I wrong or I called you pretty little thing, ain't I?"
You look away and observe the landscape outside, realizing you left the town "Where are we going?"
"Into the woods." he replies, you look at him with curiosity "I'm still the big bad wolf." he adds laughing and making you shake your head with a half-smile.
Maybe you shouldn't trust him. Your mother always told you not to trust strangers, never to accept anything from them, never to get in the car with any of them.
With Joel it's different, too. A bad person wouldn't fixed the boiler, wouldn't waited for your mother to pick you up, wouldn't said those nice words to you like he did.
You don't know much about it, but you know you can trust him.
"Scared?" he asks, looking at you briefly and then looking back toward the road.
You shake your head "No, curious."
He smiles, you are sure he is smiling. You, on the other hand, observe the road covered - and getting covered - with snow.
It's true. With him, you are not afraid.
You are agitated, yes, but it is an agitation different from fear and worry. It is something new that you have never experienced, but that you intend to discover, and you can only do so if you are next to him.
"Aren't you afraid to drive in this weather?" you ask him sincerely curious.
"I've driven in hail, with sheets of ice on the road, no one has ever stopped me," he answers you with the wink of someone who knows better.
You swallow.
Why do you get the feeling he's not just talking about the weather?
You breathe deeply.
"I need to give you a few more lessons, I guess." he says causing you to turn suddenly in his direction "I was talking about driving lessons." he clarifies probably noticing your shocked look.
You swallow again.
You feel like an idiot.
Now he'll have bad thoughts about you, he'll start to think you're just a stupid, inexperienced, useless little girl.
"Okay." you just say.
"Don't." he says pressing very slightly on the brake pedal.
"What?"
"Don't think badly of you." he replies in an obvious tone as if he can reads your mind even though you didn't expose your thoughts "You'll learn. Everyone does. Why shouldn't ya?"
He told you a lot of things since you met, all beautiful things that warm your heart and soul. How strange life is! Until a few days ago you believed your whole life would always unfold with a precise, regular cadence and that nothing would ever interrupt that predetermined flow. Then, Joel arrived and with him so many words, so many special situations, so many looks you never received before.
You're sure, he's just nice, maybe he's like that with everyone. After all, you don't know anything about him!
The car stops.
You are in front of a very small cabin in the woods with a sloping roof and a chimney. You get out with a giant smile forgetting about ice and indeed, as soon as you put your feet outside of the car you slip sideways.
"Are you hurt?" asks Joel coming toward you putting your hands and helping you up.
You don't know if your knee hurts more or your already weak ego.
"No." you reply, but a grimace appears on your face immediately unveiling you.
"Doesn't look like that to me." he says looking at your legs "Stop here, 'm going to open it." he says moving away.
"I'm good, don't worry," you tell him, but after a half step, your face winces into another grimace of pain.
You hear him open the door then he turns around "You're such a stubborn little thing!" he exclaims.
He makes to duck, but you block him by placing your hands on his forearms "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking you inside." he replies and without adding anything else, he lifts you up in his arms and with great strides you go inside. His grip is firm, holding you by the shoulders and popliteal cord. Your heart speeds up.
It lays you on what you feel is a chair. You see nothing, everything is dark. You see only the light coming through the door. You hear him open the windows and the light invades the interior, which, judging by the smell, had not been opened in several years. All the furniture and armchairs are covered with more or less large sheets, there is even one on the floor not far from you, and you sense that the chair on which you now stand was also covered. You see him walk over to the door and close it.
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"I'm sorry for the mess, but…" you see him looking around and see him intent on removing the sheets, you notice small knick-knacks and also some pictures "it's been a long time since I've been here." he approaches you "How do ya feel?" he kneels before you laying a hand on your knee.
"Well, it hurts a little," you answer him with a small grimace on your face "I'm sorry."
"Don't even joke!" he says gently taking your chin between thumb and forefinger with his other hand "It happens." he adds and then lets your chin out of his grip "You helped me come here and…" he looks around swallowing "well, thank you."
You look at him quizzically "I didn't do anything. You drove all the way here, you brought me here. I…didn't…"
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He whispers and looks you in the eyes "Okay, maybe I need to explain… this was my parents' house and for a while I lived with…" he lowers his gaze taking a deep breath "since it happened, I haven't… I never came back here and I moved to the town." you nod as if you understood, actually you didn't understand much. Something bothers him, and you think it probably has something to do with the little girl in the picture or the woman who broke his heart. You don't tell him, however, that you know about who you think is his daughter, he might get furious and maybe throw you out of that cabin and with your knee in that condition you'd have trouble walking.
"What's bothering you?" you ask him, looking into his eyes.
He looks down, he's about to say something, but then he thinks better of it, you see him swallow and tighten his grip slightly on your knee. It doesn't hurt, but it makes you feel odd, an unfamiliar tingling.
"Time." he replies, "Have you ever had that, in spite of everything, time is running ahead of you and all you can do is go on, in spite of everything? Even if your heart and soul are broken, time, things go on anyway." he says taking a sad expression "I don't think I can accept it."
You let him talk by listening to him and trying to tell him what you can tell, you don't know what exactly happened and you don't want to upset him even more.
"If you want to talk, I'm listening," you tell him, stroking his hair in a spontaneous gesture. He looks at you and you stay like that, speechless, maybe he's bothered by the gesture, maybe he liked it, you can't understand his look. You stop immediately that pat not knowing if it bothered him or not, "I'm sorry if I off…" your words are interrupted as Joel comes dangerously close to your face, his forehead against your.
You raise an eyebrow, heart in your throat.
What's going on?
Your mouth is dry, you swallow vacuum.
You're in a complete silence that he can probably hear the beat of your heart, it beats fast, very fast. You're so inexperienced that you don't know what the next move is, well if you'd have a clear situation, you'd waited for a kiss from him, but you don't known him, you know nothing about each other.
He knows about you that you are a young woman caged by an apprehensive mother, and you about him that he's a very lonely man, but with a big heart. Is that enough?
Of course not.
But then why do you yearn for contact with his lips?
You're sure, if you'd had more experience, he would have kissed you already and…?
Oh, watch your thoughts, please!
Weren't you the one who wanted to meet the boy in the bar?
Then why are you thinking about Joel and would you like to kiss him?
Suddenly a flash of lightning, followed by a very violent clap of thunder that rattles the glass of the cabin, rips through that oh-so-perfect-yes, perfect-moment. You retreat and he does the same. You look toward the window, he gets up and goes to the window, you see him looking out, laying his hands on his hips, sighing heavily, and you see him shake his head.
Is he also thinking about how many strange moments are being created between you in such a short time?
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The rain becomes torrential, then ends up as hail and finally snow. Joel looks outside several times, while you are lying on the double bed with your leg stretched out, ice packs and your head resting on the pillow. You would like to make yourself useful, but Joel has ordered you not to move. You hope with all your heart that you will soon be able to return home. You fear that your mother might return and not find you.
"I have bad news," Joel says at the door.
"What?"
"We're stuck." you swallow "I don't mind your company, but…"
"Did you try to-" you're about to say throwing yourself out of bed "AH!" you exclaim in pain.
"Stop!" he exclaims as he enters the room and comes toward you "You certainly for the time being better not rest your leg or walk on it! I'll take care of you." a warm feeling spreads in your chest "For the night I'll sleep on the couch and you here…"
"No way, your house, your bed."
"A lady always sleeps in the bed." you swallow "Seriously, I sleep over there."
"That couch can't hold me, how will it hold you?" you ask him sincerely concerned.
"Then I'll sleep on the floor, a safe sleeping bag is there somewhere," he says looking around and opening the closets. He picks up a thick red and green wool blanket and is about to leave the room, you stop him.
"Joel, I mean it. I'll sleep over there. Please don't make me feel like a burden." you say getting up anyway feeling a great pain in your knee.
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He sighs heavily, shakes his head and comes toward you again "You are not a burden. You're a beautiful girl, you're so sweet, you're -- " you look into each other's eyes for a long time.
Why doesn't he speak?
What is he thinking about?
He looks away, "Nothing, um, never mind. Don't move, just lie back down. I'll get you more ice."
"If you open the door you'll find some fresh!" you exclaim.
He turns to you with a small smile, a smile you return with an amused air, then walks away.
Only then do you find yourself swallowing hard and realizing your heart is pounding. Is it not that you are beginning to like your music teacher?
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