#nobody else in this room knows. They all think you're hilarious. But I know what you are 👁️👁️
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lab-gr0wn-lambs ¡ 9 months ago
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It's an odd feeling when you make someone laugh with something you yourself didn't think was funny but it happens all the time because I guess most people irl just aren't used to the way neurodivergent internet-raised 20-somethings talk and an out of pocket meme phrase that you've heard 100 times is new and novel to them
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ckret2 ¡ 1 year ago
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Chapter 32 of human Bill is convinced he's the best prisoner ever and does not deserve this abuse from the Pines:
Bill gets his fingernails painted! 💅🌈✨ Look at his fingernails, I drew this week's picture just to show them off. They're fun.
Bill also gets bound to a magic poppet that can control his every move.
It's hilarious for Dipper and Mabel, but not for Bill.
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The early morning still was broken by Stan's wails of despair.
At some point during the night, the egg-and-toilet-papering kids had come back to Stan's car.
And they'd brought rocks.
####
Bill woke up with a sheet tossed over him and a cupcake sitting on the window seat. The cupcake was pink with green frosting and decorated like a happy jack-o'-melon. It was sitting on top of a note:
"Sorry I didn't mention I had plans tonight! Robbie's mom made cupcakes for everyone so I grabbed you one. The music video's gonna be AMAZING! I'll show you when Robbie posts it!" Mabel had signed with a shooting star.
Bill decided he hadn't been mad at Mabel last night at all.
He battled gravity to heave himself vertical, trudged downstairs to the bathroom, stuck his face under the faucet until his mouth tasted less like sour sandpaper, agonizingly dragged himself back upstairs to his makeshift bed, and collapsed under the sheet to wait until his head stopped hammering.
####
Sprawled on the living room floor, Mabel said, "What should I draw?"
"Draw me." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the news and nursing a glass of Mabel juice. In an effort to counteract the lingering queasiness from overdosing on sugar and chocolate, he'd spiked the juice with two ground-up Elderly 60+ Vitaman™ brand Man Vitamins (khaki flavor) stolen from a bottle that Ford had bought for Stan and that Stan forgot to take.
"Okay!" Mabel turned around and squinted up at Bill. "Strike a pose!"
"Not like this!" Bill shoved a hand in Mabel's face to force her to stop looking. "Draw me how I really look."
"Bill, that's illegal. Remember?" Mabel pointed at the TV. Bodacious T was reporting on a child who'd dressed up for Summerween as "that weird out-of-towner who bothered us last year, you know the one," and who, under the Never Mind All That Act, had been fined fifty pieces of candy. The child's mugshot showed his crying face, but blurred out his yellow costume.
"He'd be the coolest kid in town," Bill said, "if he wasn't such a crybaby in front of the cops. Draw me anyway."
"I don't wanna get arrested!"
"Do you see any cops?" Bill grinned. "Just don't sign your name, nobody will know it was you."
Mabel considered that. "I can sign it someone else's name." She pulled out a few crayons.
"That's what I'm talking about! Do anything you want forever and frame the innocent!"
"What do you want me to draw you doing?"
"The coolest thing you can think of."
Mabel considered that, and got to work.
The news was boring now. They were talking about the weather, and it wasn't even interesting weather. "So hey, you were gonna tell me about filming last night?"
"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. "Did I mention the part where the dead rose from their graves?"
Bill muted the TV. "And I missed it?"
Robbie had decided the cemetery at his place would be more atmospheric than the trick-or-treater-filled streets (and less likely to have their shots ruined by passersby that didn't appreciate the depth of Robbie's lyrics). It went great, until the vibrations of angsty rock-and-roll stirred the slumbering corpses and they clawed their way from their graves. It turned out Gravity Falls had been having off-and-on invasions of the undead for the past year, ever since somebody decided to reanimate every corpse in town for fun, Bill.
"You can't prove it was me, I'm not the only one who knows how to raise the dead!" Bill laughed. "Hey—you're not drawing this body, are you? You said you wouldn't."
"I'm not, I promise!"
"Then why do you keep staring at me?"
"Um."
"Let me see!"
"No! Don't ruin the surprise!" Mabel picked up a glitter pen with feathers glued to the end and waved them in Bill's face. "And no cheating with your eye-bleeding psychic magic!"
Bill smacked the pen away. "Fine! So what did you do with the zombies? Feed one of the teens to them?"
"No! I chewed like four packs of gum me and Dipper got from the weird homeless dentist and made a fake baby brain. We used it as bait to lead them into an open grave," Mabel said. "And then we realized we could use the brain to train them to do tricks! So now we have dancing zombies in the music video. They actually learned the choreography pretty easily."
"Makes sense," Bill said. "I did fill the space where their souls should be with an insatiable hunger to party."
Mabel grinned. "I thought you said they weren't your fault."
"If they're good at dancing, I'm taking credit!"
"They were pretty good—especially considering how many limbs they were missing," Mabel said. "I'll show you when Robbie's finished editing the video."
"And I'll get to see you playing a creepy ghost kid, right?"
"Yeah! We were the greatest ghosts ever! Check it out, we were like—" Mabel fixed Bill with a dead-eyed slack-jawed stare and whisper-sang, "'We're the things that you have lost. Childhood joy, dead as a ghost.'"
"Chills."
"Dipper tried so hard to get in character as a ghost that he completely zoned out for a minute! When we shook him out of it, he said he felt like he had an out-of-body experience!"
####
At his computer, Robbie clicked play on a clip of the twins standing side-by-side in front of the cemetery gate. As they sang the chorus, Dipper's face went still; and then a spectral gray form rose out of his head, still singing in sync with Mabel.
"Whoa," Robbie said. "Sick. I'm keeping that in."
####
"So, it turns out my bro is an expert method actor," Mabel boasted.
Bill thought back to Dipper drifting up and down the stairs in the middle of the night. "Yep. Sounds like he's got quite a talent."
Mabel set down her crayons and held out a paper. "Okay—what do you think?"
Bill accepted the drawing. "Am I riding on the back of a rocket ship?"
"Like a bucking bronco! See the rocket flames doing a loop?"
"Sure do. Why am I holding a fish bowl?"
"It's like a cowboy waving his hat, but, you're in space. So that's your astronaut helmet."
"It's beautiful," Bill said intensely. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."
"Aw, really? Thanks!"
"When I take over the universe, I'm rearranging the constellations to look like this."
"Don't do that, though."
"Fine, but I'm hanging it up in my throne room." Bill set down his empty glass so he could hold the picture with both hands, beaming at it as proudly as though he'd made it himself. Big change from his lukewarm reception of her house drawing yesterday. She should draw Bill more often. Being a good artist meant understanding what your audience wanted.
Unfortunately, now that she'd finished her drawing, she didn't have anything to distract her from staring at Bill. And she'd taken about as much of seeing him as she could stand. "Bill. I say this with non-judgmental love. But you look sooo terrible."
"Yeah, I know. I think I'm shaped about as nicely as a human could ask for," he pantomimed drawing a triangle in front of his torso, "but let's be real, there's only so much you can do when you're working with a human bone structure. And there's way too much neck—"
"No! Bill, your body is beautiful just the way it is, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I meant your hair looks awful."
Bill had taken a shower yesterday morning, emerged with his hair all wet and tangled, and done absolutely nothing to detangle it. And then, with it still half damp and totally disheveled, he'd shoved it under a cheap acrylic wig for the rest of the night. And then he'd fallen asleep on the floor still wearing the wig.
And now, with the wig removed, his hair looked like a bird had plucked out half a scarecrow's straw brains and made a nest out of it.
"It sure does," Bill said, with the slightly forlorn air of someone complaining about a war in a far-off country over which one had no power.
"So brush it!"
"No. Never. You can't make me."
"Why not? I thought you wanted to keep your hair all triangly!"
"Not enough to touch it. Either it'll figure out how to straighten out on its own or it won't, I'm not messing with it. I've got enough going on in my life today." By which he meant he had the last lingering traces of a hangover, which was a valid excuse to get out of all social, moral, and aesthetic obligations.
Mabel groaned in frustration. "I can't take looking at it anymore! If you won't brush it, can I?"
Bill gave her a skeptical look; but then he flung his hands out dismissively. "Sure, why not? If it bothers you so much. Have at it."
"I'll be right back!"
She got her brush from upstairs and a spray bottle from the kitchen, and directed Bill to sit on the floor so she could get on the couch behind him. After making such a fuss about brushing his hair, Bill was surprisingly well-behaved with somebody else brushing it for him. He didn't even complain when Mabel accidentally yanked on some nasty snarls a little harder than she meant to.
"I feel like a corpse getting prettied up for my funeral," Bill said. "Grooming each other is how humans bond, isn't it? This is one of your little social rituals? If all you wanted was to make sure we're still friends after you ditched me last night, you could have just asked."
Mabel shoved her foot between Bill's shoulder blades. Wise guy. She joked, "Yeah! We're bonding now! After this we're gonna paint each other's fingernails and talk about what kind of boys we like."
"I want rainbow spiral fingernails."
Mabel really should be used to this—but she still kept getting surprised that Bill was interested in the stuff she liked. And not even in a patronizing sure-I'll-play-along way. He'd turned to look at her. There was a gleam in his eyes. He really wanted rainbow spiral fingernails.
And now she wanted rainbow spiral fingernails, too. "Fine! But look forward until I finish your hair." One way or another, Mabel vowed, she would reform Bill into a proper good guy—even if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming. Fun dress-up partners were hard to find, and she couldn't afford to lose Bill.
####
Soos wandered to the living room to find somewhere to hang up his and Melody's "Best Couple Cosplay" award, but stopped in the doorway.
Bill, Mabel, and Waddles were sitting on the floor, watching some kind of cartoon psychedelic fairy princess lecture a spider on the importance of colors, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Bill and Mabel both had bright multicolor fingernails and were eating the popcorn with chopsticks to avoid touching their nails. There was more popcorn on the floor than in the bowl. Waddles had taken no such cares to avoid dragging his freshly painted hooves through the carpet. 
"Truth or dare," Bill said.
"Dare!"
"Dare you to assassinate the..." Bill trailed off. "I can't have the mayor assassinated, he runs Rainbow Club. And the sheriff and deputy invited me... There aren't a lot of public officials in this dumb town, are there?"
"I'm not killing anybody, Bill. Truth."
"Fine, coward. What's your favorite toxic fume fragrance?"
"That's easy! Gasoline!"
"Hey, mine too! At least on this planet. It smells like—you know that smell that heralds the coming of rain? Gasoline is the smell that heralds a really fun time."
"Yeah! Like going on a road trip!"
Bill paused. "Right! I was... I was definitely thinking about road trips. That's exactly what I meant."
Mabel added, "And it looks so cool when there's a little bit spilled in a parking spot—"
"The rainbow puddles! Yes! Big fan of the rainbow puddles—"
"I love parking lot rainbow puddles! It's like surprise happiness in the most boring place on the planet!"
Soos mumbled, "Girl talk," decided to hang his award up later, and left.
####
Dipper heard the bedroom door open and Mabel call, "Hey Dipper!"
"Hey." He didn't look up from his journal, where he was documenting last night's zombie adventures. "Oh, hey, bad news—Wendy said she got a text from Robbie, it sounds like all the footage from the cemetery last night is ruined?"
"Aww! What? But we worked so hard to train those zombies!"
"Yeah, it's just static. But everything we shot outside the gates is fine. I wonder if it's something supernatural that interferes with electronics?"
"Something supernatural? In the cemetery? Full of zombies? What are the odds of that!" Mabel laughed. "But heyyy, I've got some good news!"
"What?"
Mabel stuck a hairbrush full of gold hair between Dipper's face and his journal. "I got a replacement for the Bill hair sample we gave Pacifica!" She grinned and whispered, "Wanna make a poppet?"
####
It would have been really cool if the first full moon of summer vacation had come on Summerween. But the calendar gods were unkind that year, and instead, it came the next day, on June 23.
Which worked out, in the end, since it meant they didn't have any scheduling conflicts on the one night they could make a poppet.
They had the ritual space set up in their bedroom—a chalk star drawn on the floor with a black candle at each point—and the doll representing Bill—which Mabel had upgraded with button eyes and a miniature version of his favorite knit hoodie. They collected all the shed blonde strands off Mabel's hairbrush, wrapped them around the doll's neck, and tied them on. They set the doll in the center of the star; Bartholomew talked them through the ritual; the flames on the candles leaped a foot in the air, turned a pale blue, and then went out; and the binding ritual was complete. The doll was now connected to Bill Cipher.
"Weird," Bartholomew said. "Usually the flames turn black. I've never seen them turn blue before."
Dipper said, "That's not a problem, is it?"
"No, no. I've just never used the binding ritual on an alien before! I guess it works a little different!"
Dipper picked up the doll and eyed it skeptically. "Mabel, I know we said we're saving this for emergencies only, but—maybe we should test it out just to make sure it actually works?"
"I guess we should," Mabel said, grimacing. "Just—don't do anything that'd hurt him. Okay?"
Yeah, Dipper should've expected that. Whether he liked it or not, Mabel didn't just see Bill as her weird experiment in criminal rehabilitation—she saw him as her friend. He sighed. "Okay. But is it fine if we do something that would embarrass him?"
Mabel shrugged. "I don't see why not!"
####
As they crept from their room, Mabel whispered, "What if we stick him in a box and shake it up? And then tell him there was an earthquake!"
"I thought you were the one who didn't want to hurt him."
"Oh right."
Bill wasn't on his cushions under the window, so they crept downstairs. Halfway down, Dipper stopped, putting a hand on Mabel's arm. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, staring out the window.
"This is perfect," he whispered. "He's completely vulnerable. He's got his back to us, he's looking at the moonlight—even if he turns around, he won't see us because his eyes will have to readjust to the dark."
"I don't know if his eyes need to adjust," Mabel said. "Have you ever noticed he never turns the lights on when he goes into a room?"
Dipper considered that. He hadn't noticed—but now that Mabel mentioned it, Bill did have a tendency to lurk in the dark. "Well—okay, but he's still not looking at us. Let's see how this works..." He studied the doll; then turned it around and gently brushed a finger through its yarn hair.
For a moment, nothing happened; and then Bill swatted at the back of his head and looked around, as if he was trying to find what had touched him.
"I think it's working," Dipper hissed.
"Are you sure? What if there's actually a fly in the kitchen?"
Could be. "Let me see if it can control him."
"Careful—"
Dipper grabbed one of the doll's arms and tentatively lifted it.
Bill's arm shot up. He stared at it in bafflement. "Wh...?"
Mabel bit her lip. Dipper waved the doll's arm.
Bill's arm waved. After a pause, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" As if he thought maybe his arm was waving at someone and he should play along with it.
Mabel and Dipper clapped their hands over their mouths, fighting to keep their giggles quiet. Mabel elbowed Dipper, "Hey Dipper Dipper Dipper, get him to stand up, let me control his legs, I have the best idea—"
Bill knocked over his chair and had to flail his arms for balance as he abruptly jerked to his feet. He looked around, eyes wide and wild, an edge of panic to his voice as he hollered, "WHAT'S GOING ON!"
Dipper held the doll out to Mabel. "Okay hurry!" Mabel took it by the legs—
—and Bill started doing the cancan. He shrieked. "WHAT?!"
Dipper shoved his shirt over his mouth to muffle his hysterics. Mabel was letting little wheezy squeaks out through her nose. Bill's voice was almost an octave higher as he screamed, "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO'S BEHIND THIS, I'M GONNA SHRED YOU—" and they both got so close to bursting laughing out loud that they had to pause to punch each other's shoulders for self control.
Still holding one of the doll's legs up, Mabel hissed, "Dipper do you remember the bottle dance. Where they crouch down with bottles on their heads. Can we—can we get a tiny bottle for the doll—"
Bill was failing both arms to avoid falling with one foot held in the air. He grabbed the counter for balance. And then, with a grunt of effort, he wrenched his foot down and stomped it to the ground.
The doll's leg yanked out of Mabel's hand.
Dipper and Mabel fell silent, staring at the doll. They looked at each other. Mabel whispered, "It shouldn't be able to do that, right?"
They looked at Bill.
Bill's face was burning red, and he was so far past fury that his expression was perfectly blank. His eyes were huge, and round, and pointed straight at them.
They bolted up the stairs.
Bill charged after them.
They screamed in terror. They weren't loud enough to drown out Bill: "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU BRATS—"
Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm. "Dipper, do something!"
"Uhh—!" He tossed the doll in the air and caught it.
They heard an alarmed yelp as Bill was launched in the air and then a crash as he landed on the stairs again.
They scrambled into their room and slammed the door. "Safe!" Mabel said.
"Yeah," Dipper said, panting for breath. "Can't get us here."
The doll's head twisted 180 degrees to stare up at them.
They yelped. Dipper tossed the doll to Mabel. Mabel held it out at arm's length, threw it in her nightstand's drawer, and slammed it. It tried to open again and she leaned against it with her full body weight. "Dipper, the duct tape! In my craft supplies!"
"Which craft supplies?!"
The tiny knocking inside the drawer was echoed by the pounding at the door, accompanied by a string of creative death threats: "—and when I'm finished the coroner won't know which corpse was which! I'll make a belt out of your spinal columns—!"
"We didn't do anything," Mabel shouted, "it wasn't our fault!" She took the duct tape from Dipper and frantically wrapped it around the night stand. Dipper added, "It was someone else! And we'll never do it again—"
Sleepy and muffled, Soos's voice drifted through the door, "Dudes? What's all the hubbub?"
Dipper and Mabel gasped, "Soos!" "Save us!"
His voice the perfect tone of righteous indignation, Bill declared, "I'm being assaulted, that's what!"
Stan's voice joined in from downstairs: "BILL! If you don't leave those kids alone I'll cave your nose in!"
"THEY'RE THE AGGRESSORS," Bill screamed, half hysterical. "They are! I'm the victim here! I'm being victimized!"
Stan shouted, "Kids, good work! Bill, you can go to—" He grumbled as he self-censored, "—sleep! Shut up and go to sleep!"
"You can go jump in the bottomless pit, Stanley Pines! I'll tear you all apart with my teeth if I have to! NOBODY in this stupid junk heap of a shack is getting any sleep until I get my—"
From just outside the attic door, Stan roared, "BILL!"
There was a dull thud as Bill leaned against their door; a lot less shouty, he quickly said, "I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed."
"That's what I thought," Stan snapped. The kids heard his footsteps retreating downstairs. Soos said, "Um... night," and his door shut. After a moment, there was the creak of footsteps retreating from the attic door.
Dipper and Mabel slowly, softly snuck across the room to the door, and pressed their ears to the crack. No sound.
They stayed there for several minutes, barely breathing, listening to the silence.
Finally, Mabel pulled away and looked at Dipper. They both nodded, and Dipper opened the door a crack to check if the coast was clear.
Bill's eye stared in. "Hey, kids!"
They yelled. Dipper tried to slam the door; but Bill had already shoved his hand through. Fingernails painted with neon colors and black spirals clawed at the doorframe. He shouldered through the gap in the door, and then he was in the room, smiling much too wide and eyes fixed on them like helicopter spotlights on two wanted criminals. There was blood on his teeth. "Wow! Playing with poppets?"
Dipper upturned his suitcase and held it up like a shield. Mabel pointed a can of spray paint at Bill's face. Bill took a step closer and they took a step back.
"Pretty advanced trick for a couple of children your age," Bill said conversationally. "Not bad, not bad at all. Heck, I'm impressed you pulled it off! Although you didn't make a very smart choice of test subject." He stomped a foot twice.
Something in the nightstand thudded twice. The twins jumped. Bill laughed at them.
Mentally cursing himself for having flinched, Dipper straightened his back and glared at Bill. "You're just mad you got jerked around like a puppet! What's the matter, Bill—you can dish it but you can't take it?" Mabel looked at Dipper like he was crazy.
Bill's indulgent smile cracked, dropping into a snarl of rage. He shifted his weight toward them. Mabel dropped into a judo stance and Dipper sucked in a breath to shout for Stan.
Before anyone could launch a full attack, Mabel took a shaky breath in, forced a nervous smile, and said, "Bill, hey..." (His eyes snapped to her face like a predator that just heard a twig snap.) "This was—just a funny prank, and we're all cool? Right?"
"Mabel," Dipper muttered. "Shhh!"
But Mabel kept looking at Bill. "Right? Buddies?" She held up her arm, showing Bill her friendship bracelet.
Bill stopped and rocked back on his heels. He gave Mabel a long, hard look—like he was seriously considering whether to accept the reality she was inventing. "Yeah. Real funny." Smiling through grit teeth, he said, "You know—it's been a while since I've had my energy strung between two vessels. I didn't even know what that experience felt like for a human! Very interesting. Educational. And it was nice to feel weightless again for a second. Even if the landing was a little rough." He licked the blood off his teeth. One of the teeth shifted. "So—thanks so much for spicing up a boring night. It's been a real blast. Hasn't it." He stared at them like he expected an answer—and possibly like he planned to strangle whoever answered first.
Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper shook his head slightly. Mabel looked Bill in the eyes again. "Yeah! Big blast. So, you're not... mad. Right? Nobody's mad!"
Bill stared her down for a moment longer; and then said, "Sure, kid! It's all fun and games!" He forced a laugh—and then another, longer one, hahhh, like he was exhaling all his rage. And just like that, he was back to normal. "I'll admit it—for a second there, you almost got me good! Not bad at all." He held out his hand insistently. "And now the game's over, so you're gonna give me that toy so I can neutralize it. Aren't you?"
Dipper bit his lip, looking past Bill toward the stairs. He could yell for Stan; there was no way Bill could kill them before reinforcements got here—
Mabel elbowed Dipper's side and whispered, "We can't keep it."
And she was right. Now that Bill knew about the doll, he'd be spending all his time plotting how to get past them to take it, and they wouldn't have a second's peace. Either he got it now, or he got it later. Bill wouldn't rest until the doll was out of their hands.
Because he was terrified of it. Why wouldn't he be?
"Yeah," Dipper sighed. "Game over."
"I'll get it." Mabel peeled just enough duct tape off the night stand to wiggle it open a crack and try to squeeze her fingers in. Bill stretched his hand toward Mabel, and the doll stretched an arm out of the drawer. Mabel flinched in surprise, but grabbed the arm and yanked the doll free.
"Ow." Bill grabbed his shoulder and rolled it gingerly. "Careful, kid, are you trying to dislocate my arm? I don't mind popping it back in, but eventually that socket's gonna wear out."
"Sorry! It was a tight squeeze." She held the doll over Dipper's suitcase shield. "Here."
Bill snatched it from her hand. "Thanks a million, star girl." He favored them both with his most nearly-charming, far-too-wide smile. "Good night, kiddos. Have sweet dreams."
"You too," Mabel said weakly.
Bill left. Dipper shut the door. He and Mabel both heaved a sigh of relief.
From the loft over the attic, Bartholomew called, "Is he gone?"
"What are you doing up there?" Mabel asked. "Barty-mew-mew the scaredy-cat."
"I'm not fighting that guy, I'm porcelain and he's crazy."
Dipper flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Welp. I'm gonna have nightmares about Bill chasing me up the stairs."
Mabel sat on her own bed. "He just wanted to terrify us. And to keep us from seeing we'd terrified him." She fingered the star beads on her friendship bracelet. "He wouldn't have hurt us, I'm sure of it."
"Wh—seriously? You don't think Bill—"
"I know! But he's changed a tiny bit! He'd hurt anyone else, but he won't hurt us," Mabel said. "Or—well, me, at least. But I think he'll leave you alone too if I'm with you!"
Dipper pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her. "If he'd caught us on the stairs, do you really think he wouldn't have tried to tear us apart?"
Mabel considered that; and then reluctantly admitted, "He wouldn't hurt me as long as he remembers he doesn't want to hurt me." 
"Yeah, well. I wouldn't count on him remembering when he's mad." Dipper slid under his covers and rolled over. "Barty, can you get the lights?"
"Sure, one second." All the lights and lamps in the room flickered ominously; and then, with a sinister pop, snapped off without being touched.
"Thanks, man."
Mabel didn't climb into bed. She was staring at her fingernails. She'd painted them the same colors as Bill's; but she'd used a black marker to draw spirals on his, and he'd drawn stars and sloppy tiger stripes on hers.  In the dark, the colors were all faded.
This time, just once, maybe she and Dipper were the bad guys. He might disagree—he'd actually been puppeted, maybe he saw this differently from Mabel—but that probably didn't make it okay to do it back to Bill just for fun. They should've saved the poppet for an emergency. And the cancan, she decided, was definitely too much.
She smoothed out her covers; then she pulled up her knees to her chest, hugged them, and stared thoughtfully down at Bill's face in the middle of her zodiac blanket.
####
In the dark and quiet of the downstairs bathroom, Bill sat cross-legged on the toilet lid. He held the doll in his cupped hands. Soon, he'd disassemble it—but not yet. Tonight, it was his tool. He shut his eyes and focused on it.
There was the thinnest thread of energy, channeled through his shed hair, connecting this doll to him. He studied the thread, feeling it in his mind, exploring it, strengthening it—until he could almost feel it tugging on him.
And then he started psychically groping for similar connections.
He set the doll on the floor, on top of the drawing Mabel had given him.
His other eyes—the billions of depictions of his face scattered across this planet—weren't meant to be used in this dimension. They were designed like windows he could peer through from the Nightmare Realm; here on Earth, he was on the wrong side of the windows to see through them. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Axolotl had somehow found a way to blindfold them on top of that—after all, he seemed to have done the same to most of Bill's other abilities.
But Bill was resourceful, he was stubborn, and he didn't have anything better to do.
He focused all his energy on trying to feel the drawing the same way he felt the doll, searching for a connection between this body and that face—and he searched, and searched, and searched.
He wasn't sure how long he tried. At least a couple of hours. Straining, straining—for nothing. His head hurt.
What was the difference? The doll was shaped like him, the drawing was shaped like him. What did the doll have that the drawing didn't?
The hair. A bit of his flesh.
Bill knelt over the picture, studying it in the dark. He opened an eye wide, wiped a fingertip across the surface of his eyeball to collect his tears, and pressed it to the drawing's eye.
He could feel a thread of energy stringing from his eye to the paper.
He climbed back on the toilet lid, shut his eyes, and focused on that thread. With an effort that threatened to split his head in two, he pried open his inner eye. And then he was staring up at his own human form from the drawing on the floor.
His body was shaking. His head was throbbing. He wobbled dizzily on the toilet; and as he saw himself topple off, his trance broke, the vision disappeared, and he blacked out. White spots burst behind his eyes.
When he next opened an eye, the room was spinning. He shut his eye. It was several minutes before he could sit up without being sick. He leaned against the wall and let the sweat on his forehead and cheek soak the old wallpaper.
The white spots he'd seen as he passed out were his distant all-seeing eyes. 
He'd done something tonight. That was good. But there was no way he was seeing through any other pictures like that. He needed something he could focus his power through, like an antenna.
He needed gold.
####
(Last chapter of the year!! If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts & comments! Thanks!)
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cosyvelvetorchid ¡ 6 months ago
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I would LOVE more Fics of Tommy coming out to Hen (preferably pre-buck)
Sorry for the delay in getting to this one. I had to find the story to write in my head. Anyway here it is an I hope you like it!
As always you can send me bucktommy/saltommy/Tommy prompts to my ask and I'll write something.
Thanks 🩶
********
Sal had been gone for 2 weeks. For 2 weeks his best friend, his only family, his secret lover was gone. For 2 weeks Tommy had been lost. For 2 weeks he had been flitting between moping and biting everyones head off. He was angry. Not just at Sal for screwing himself out of a job at the 118, but angry at himself.
He knew getting involved with Sal was a bad idea the day they drunkenly kissed for the first time in Tommy's kitchen. He tried to put an emotional distance between them. Not just because they were best friends who also worked together but because he'd been hurt too many times before and had no faith in finding any kind of happiness with someone.
But neither of them could resist the other. Slowly Sal crawled under his skin. He began to see parts of Sal that nobody else saw. The softness Sal never let anybody else see. Like his love for forehead kisses - giving and receiving, or that he always liked it when Tommy would rest a hand on his leg when they ate together because he found it comforting.
Slowly Tommy's walls broke down and he let Sal in. And he hated himself for that now. He hated that he'd allowed Sal's calloused fingers to wrap around his heart, when he knew better.
"Come on." Hen told Tommy in the locker room after their shift. "You're coming home with me."
"Didn't know you wanted to switch sides." Tommy joked.
"Hilarious." Hen said, deadpan. "You're coming home with me to have dinner with me and Karen."
"No, I'm.. thanks but I'm not in the mood." He threw his holdall over his shoulder.
"It's not a request, Tommy. You've been miserable for the last 2 weeks, and no offense but it's starting to get annoying. So, you're going to have a nice evening having dinner with my wife and I. Or you can call her yourself and tell her she's wasted the entire afternoon cooking for you." She raised an eyebrow at him. Tommy knew saying no to Karen was not an option. He sighed.
"Fine."
*****
"Seriously you'd think working in a lab would mean everyone behaved professionally but I swear it's like a soap opera. If they're not back stabbing eachother they're having secret affairs." Karen regailed as they sat in front of their empty plates.
Firehouses weren't that different, Tommy thought. Hen stood and began sticking their plates. Karen stopped her.
"No, I'll get these babe. Why don't you and Tommy go sit on the veranda and ill make the coffee." She gave Hen a knowing look that Tommy didn't really understand.
"Come on." She gestured to Tommy and lead him outside. They sat on the wooden deck chairs facing the garden.
"So have you spoken to Sal at all?" Hen just jumped straight into the subject. Tommy didn't have the energy to change the subject.
"No." He simply said.
"Why not? Just because he's at the 122 doesn't mean you guys can't still be best friends. You live like, what? 4 miles apart. You can hang out all the time."
Tommy sat silently. His brain swirling with the last conversation Sal and he had had 2 weeks ago. Sal's words cut through him like a knife. He knew Sal didn't mean the actual words he used - he was just lashing out instead of dealing with his feelings, which was not uncommon for him - but he meant the reason behind them. Sal didn't actually think Tommy was a mistake, or that he didn't feel genuine feelings for him like he'd said he didn't, but he did want to end things. He did feel not remotely ready to be in a real relationship with a man. He did want to end.. whatever it was that they had.
"Did something happen between you? Did you have a fight or something?" Hen asked. Tommy again didn't answer. He didn't know how to.
"I mean you've had fights before and after some time to cool off you usually work it out. I'm sure this will blow over." She added.
"No. It won't." Tommy finally spoke.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm gay." He blurted out. He forced out a breath and put his elbows to his knees, letting his head hang down. There was an element of relief flowing through him at finally being able to say it out loud, but it was mixed with fear. It was stupid, he knew, because Hen was gay and he knew that she wouldn't say or do anything bad. But he'd lived his whole life in fear of people knowing the truth and that fear wasn't easy to look past.
"Did he say something?" Hen asked after a few moments of silence. "I know he can be an asshole but Sal never struck me as homophobic."
"He's not. He didn't.. " Tommy sighed.
"Then what happened?" Hen questioned again. The cat was out of the bag now so Tommy spoke.
"He and I.. we.. we've been dating. Sort of. I don't really know what it is. Was. He, uh.. he ended it when he left." Tears threatened his eyes and he sniffed them away.
"Oh." Hen responded knowingly. Suddenly Tommys behaviour over the last 2 weeks made complete sense. She scooted her chair closer to his and leaned forward.
"Okay, first of all, am I the first person you've told? About your sexuality I mean?" She asked. Tommy nodded.
"Yeah."
"Well, then I'm proud of you, Tommy." He looked up her. Hen was the first person who had ever said they they were proud of him that he actually respected. He'd heard it from his dad once as a kid, and Gerrard had said it a few times, but he didn't want their pride. He respected the hell out of Hen. Not just as a firefighter, but as a gay woman navigating a male dominated and very cishet field, with more strength than he'd ever seen someone wield. Her pride meant more to him than anybody else.
"Thanks." He said, his voice cracking. She smiled and reached and hand out to take his.
"Second of all, what happened with Sal?" Tommy explained how their relationship had gotten started and how Sal had had decided he couldn't do it anymore.
"He just said that he didn't have feelings for me and that now that he would be at the 122 the space would better for us to go our seperate ways." He wiped the tears away that had pushed their way out. "Thing is, I know he didn't mean those exact words. I know, I felt, he had feelings for me - he was just running scared. I tried to convince him that he didn't have to run and we'd figure it out but he was just too terrified of people knowing the truth."
"I'm sorry, Tommy." Hen said gripping his hand a little tighter. Tommy nodded.
"Thanks." He said after a while.
"For what?"
"Just.. being you." He looked up at her and gave a soft smile.
"Hey, I march to the beat of my own drum. Always have." She smiled back.
"But.. I'm not ready for others to know about me yet. So-" Hen held up her hand to stop him.
"You don't have to worry. This stays between us until you're ready. And if you need someone to talk to you know you can always come to me. Or Karen. The last thing either of us want is for you to be dealing with this alone. And I'm not talking about Sal."
"I know. Thank you." He lifted his arms and embraced her into a warm, tight hug.
"Didn't know you wanted to switch sides." Karen teased with a tray of coffees in her hands.
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cakesandfail ¡ 2 years ago
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Do you have any headcanons about how Vetinari ended up taking power?
Actually yes I do!
I wrote a fic about his first day in power that vaguely referenced this and while I don't have like, a fully fleshed out story, there are a few bits and pieces that I sort of bodged together from things in the books and what I personally find entertaining about him as a character:
There's a bit in Soul Music which says that there was a rat plague in Ankh-Morpork shortly before Vetinari came to power, and that his solution was "tax the rat farms". It's unclear in context whether this means he suggested it at the end of Snapcase's time in power or if it was one of the first things he did after he became Patrician. I've just gone ahead and assumed that the rat plague was the last straw for Snapcase and that actually having a good suggestion was one of the reasons Vetinari was in people's minds as a replacement
That then leads us to ask, well, what on earth was he doing there? He's been in power a fair while even by Guards Guards but chronologically must still only be in his early 40s by then, to have been in his late teens in the 30-years-ago bits of Night Watch (and he can't be older than that, because it's made fairly clear that he's in the Guild equivalent of secondary school at that time, and Vimes knows that the two of them are approximately the same age). Given his canonically hilariously long list of postgrad qualifications, he probably went straight from Assassins Guild grad school to the Oblong Office, more or less. Conclusion: he was the fucking INTERN. (or possibly working as a clerk, but calling him the intern is at least 500% funnier)
Given the running joke about him being this weird posh dude who doesn't seem like a threat until you remember where he was educated, I would imagine that his whole "ah capital jolly good here I go getting slang wrong again" bullshit started here. We know that among the Ankh-Morpork elite, pretending to be stupider than you really are is something that can both keep you safe and help you get away with a lot, because we see Vetinari and Vimes and Sybil do it. So this is where he got his practice. Bertie Wooster the FUCK out of your working day, quietly get on with the things that need to be done while nobody's looking, and nobody will realise because they just think you're Madam's weird nephew with the shit beard and the puppy
So, bearing all that in mind, picture this:
Snapcase is dead. The important people (at least, the people who think themselves important) converge on the palace. In a small room off the Oblong Office is a young man steadily working through a large pile of paperwork. Oh, yes, that's Madam's nephew, you know... Havelock, isn't it? They ask if he knows what's happened, and he says no, he has no idea, he's just been working his way through all these regulations, and gosh, they really are very dull. And... well... nobody else is here. And nobody else seems to understand the filing system, or the rest of the staff, or anything really. But he does.
This guy's had a few good ideas when he's been doing the minutes at various meetings, that makes him a plausible candidate surely? And he's so young, so he's going to need a lot of guidance from helpful, experienced folks, right? How useful. He's just smart enough not to be an obvious puppet. Very handy indeed.
And the cream of Ankh-Morpork society being what they are (truly the cream- rich and thick) they don't realise until it's far too late that this lanky goth weirdo they'd thought would do their bidding knows everything about everyone and he's been quietly furious about the result of the Glorious 25th for over a decade. And, whoops, they'd somehow forgotten that he didn't spend all of that time on Guild postgraduate courses doing resits. Oh dear. And now he's their boss.
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littlescaryinternetguy ¡ 6 months ago
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You're half-asleep when you feel the tremors. You know what, or rather who, it is. The wall to your right slides away and the space is filled with my face, looking in and, hilariously, having an expression of deep trepidation as I try to be as quiet as I can. As if. "What? Get in here," you mumble, affecting anger but laughing inside. "I wish," I whisper. "Work awaits." "Fuck woooorrrrrk," you warble, waking one of the cats. Hearing no reply from me, you decide to make the decision for me. "Well then take me with you." You see my face brighten in the dim light. Could that be what I wanted all along?
Probably. You'll have to ride me for that one later, you think.
My hand crowds into the room, filling it and then some. My fingertips brush the side of the bed and you roll dramatically on. I'd clap if my hand wasn't otherwise occupied. My fingers curl, bringing you just a bit farther, then everything spins and rotates and you slide down my fingers into a pocket, army green and soft with age. You know that on the inside wall, the side facing me, you once wrote MY ROOM NO BIGGOS ALLOWED OK in Sharpie, and you know it's still there, a joke for you and me and nobody else. After a moment, blankets from your bed and a couple pillows drop onto you. You nest, deep in there. I look down. You're deep in, so far that I can't even see you. Barely a lump. Nobody will notice. I've got you, hidden in plain sight. "You ready?" I ask quietly. You reply: three soft thumps against my chest for 'yes'. I tap three times by the pocket, and then stand up and plod away, towards work. Am I jealous? Damn right I'm jealous. But I'll get my turn. And anyway, it's not so bad being big when you've got a great tiny to be big for. No, it's really not bad at all.
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gureshinlover ¡ 10 months ago
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There's one comment in an old mysmes Reddit thread, and when I read it some months ago it made perfect sense to me, and I love the way it's written. These paragraphs literally built the base of my opinions about Ray Route when I started replaying his route this year. So I wanted to share it and see what yall also think!
Again: this is not my writing!!! It's by reddit user embergate
I know how you feel. I fell in love with Ray, and then he went away and never came back. But, if you're determined to go through with it for some reason, it can help to understand what's going on with Saeran, and why he speaks the way he does.
Rika is kind enough to explain to you that Saeran uses you as a replacement for Ray. You can also figure it out yourself almost instantly because the things he's saying to MC and the things Ray is saying to himself are identical.
Once, he gives you a picture of a cake when he's starving you. This is a direct reference to the dream he had about his mother doing the same to him. He spoke of his dream before in a phone conversation, as Ray.
Once, he even says to MC "so that's why you live grooming flowers", which clearly does not apply to MC, but does to Ray.
So, when Saeran is speaking abuse to you, imagine a big mirror in front of you. He's not talking to you, he's talking to himself. Very rarely he addresses MC directly. In order to get the true essence of the conversation, you need to swap all "you"s with "I"s.
When you're replying to Saeran, imagine that you're Ray. How would you like Ray to behave when he's starved, isolated, abused, assaulted? Do you want him to cower, or do you want him to stand firm? Then reply how you want him to reply. He doesn't know how to be strong, but he will learn it from observing you. Keep holding that mirror in front of him until he finally sees his reflection. He can't leave the Mint Eye unless he gets stronger. Who said that healing with a power of love was easy?
Rika is also doing exactly the same thing Saeran is doing, imitating her mother in the way she treats her believers. When Saeran finally realizes that, he breaks free from Rika.
Also, lol about the smell... Yeah, for someone who says he doesn't like it, Saeran sure is highly aware of MC's face and smell all the time, to the point of obsession. He keeps saying that he wants to see her face. He even installs a camera to watch her and if you ask him "you want to see me 24/7"? he replies "yes" without a second's hesitation. Especially funny is the fact that he encrypts the camera so that nobody else can use it, and Rika rages about it later on. Also I find it hilarious when he attempts to break into MC's room not once, or twice, but thrice in a short time. Apparently he can't stand being apart from MC any longer.
My biggest problem with Saeran was not all that abuse, but rather than single conversation where he pretends to be Ray. He says that Ray didn't really like MC, and he was simply lonely and wanted someone not to leave him. I... believe he was speaking the truth.
So there's no romance here. Not really. But, remember that conversation between Ray and MC in the beginning.
MC: I thought it was a dating simulator.
Ray: Saving someone is more worthwhile than dating someone, don't you think?
...But... I still can't forget that phone call with Ray when he sang me a lullaby....
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qqueenofhades ¡ 2 years ago
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HELLO HILARY for a fic I would like "Grishaverse Ivan like, six months into living, sleeping, and spending every free moment with Fedyor realizing to his undying horror that they are dating, and people know, and people say things to him about it and have opinions" please and thank you
The first hint of trouble comes at breakfast. Normally Ivan spends this time in straightforward fashion: consuming his required nourishment and being happily and completely unbothered by all other people, especially since he was promoted to Botkin's chief assistant for training Corporalki. He's only twenty-two, but they are already whispering about him as one of the best Heartrenders in history, and that, as you might imagine, is a strong impetus for everyone to keep their distance. This is fine with Ivan. Small talk is the only thing in the world more horrible than fighting Fjerdans, and at least he enjoys that.
This, however. This is bad. It starts when Andrei, one of the junior Heartrenders, passes Ivan's chair, glances at him, and then glances at the man sitting next to him: Fedyor Kaminsky, obviously. Not only is he the only person who dares to approach Ivan without getting his head promptly bitten off, they've recently been more or less a single unit. Both in the field, in battle, and here at home in the Little Palace. Fedyor moved into Ivan's rooms about six months ago and has shown no inclination to leave, and to his consternation and confusion, Ivan likewise has no inclination to kick him out. They're just spending time together, that's all. Even he can do it. They train together, and they eat together, and they do in fact sleep together, but that doesn't mean --
"Good morning, Captain Sakharov," Andrei says. "And you, Fedyor. You're, er. You're quite brave, you know."
Fedyor shrugs and grins. "Someone has to be, I suppose."
Andrei nods and continues on his way, but Ivan scowls. "What," he demands, "is that supposed to mean? Why are you brave?"
Fedyor raises both eyebrows. "Are you suggesting I'm not?"
"No." Ivan scowls down at his breakfast. "Of course not. I was just wondering why Andrei felt the need to inform you."
"Well." Fedyor sounds like he's biting his cheek. "I am the only person who sits with you at breakfast every morning. Not to mention anywhere else."
"Why does that make you brave? I don't want anyone else sitting next to me, but that doesn't make them special."
"You..." Fedyor seems to be thinking very hard about how to phrase this. "You do realize that we're... close, yes?"
Ivan opens his mouth to hotly deny this -- they're just comrades, companions, no more and no less. Comrades that regularly fuck each other's brains out, yes, but that is beside the point. "Even if so, I don't see what business that is of Andrei's," he snaps instead. "I hope nobody's getting the wrong idea."
Fedyor, if possible, raises both eyebrows even higher. He finishes his breakfast with a slightly hurt air, gets to his feet, and stalks out, whereupon despite the fact that they're training together, he pointedly does not say a word to Ivan for the rest of the morning. In fact, when Botkin calls for a student volunteer to practice a move that Ivan's been showing them, Fedyor cheerily offers himself up as tribute and then almost blows Ivan through a brick wall. As he's lying flat on his back, dazed and seeing stars, Fedyor strolls over and offers him a hand up -- then, as Ivan grudgingly reaches for it, pulls it back. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "Would that be the wrong idea?"
Ivan is aware that he has done something wrong somehow, but he still can't see what it is, and he glares at Fedyor, struggling to his feet and brushing off his kefta. "That," he barks to the crowd at large, "was not what it looked like. I let him do that. Anyone else want to try?"
A few of the Heartrenders whisper. Nobody steps forward.
"WELL?"
"If that was what you meant to let Kaminsky do," Botkin announces, when nobody seems in any particular haste to die, "then we need someone who isn't going to do the same. Kurochkin, would you like to try it on him instead?"
Vladislav Kurochkin is the size of a troll, with hands like smoked hams, and he steps forward, leering. "I'm not your boyfriend, Sakharov," he warns. "I'll not be going easy on you."
Ivan opens his mouth in outrage -- whether because someone has dared to call Fedyor his boyfriend, or the implication that he could be humiliated further -- but Botkin jerks up a fist. "Enough talking, you two. The Fjerdans could have shot you both ten times over. Sakharov, if you didn't actually mean to do that, settle your lovers' quarrel with Kaminsky elsewhere. Now, if we can get back to training -- "
Ivan opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out. The gall -- the nerve -- the bloody unmitigated cheek -- do they all think that? Oh Saints. They do, don't they? They think Fedyor is Ivan's boyfriend. Even worse, Fedyor thinks that he is Ivan's boyfriend. Is that why he was so miffed this morning, and why Ivan nearly got thrown through a wall? That doesn't make any sense. They're just comrades! Good comrades! Nothing more!
So, at least, Ivan manfully insists to himself, until the observance of Sankta Elizaveta's feast a few weeks later. By order of the tsar, the Grisha get the day off from training, though nobody actually goes to church to listen to the Apparat drone. Ivan is doing his usual party routine of standing in the corner and talking to nobody, glaring at anyone who comes near, when he sees that absolute bastard Matvei Tymoshenko, that fucking Squaller with his flashy blond hair and big white teeth who thinks he is God's gift to women and men, smiling coyly at Fedyor and trying to chat him up. Ivan nearly sets a landspeed record as he rushes over. "Is there something I can help you with?!"
"Er." Matvei looks deeply alarmed, holding up both hands. "I didn't think -- you insisted the other day that it wasn't serious, so -- "
Ivan doesn't say anything. He just glares violently until Matvei takes the hint and sprints away, and Fedyor looks even more exasperated. "Well," he says. "Does this mean you're admitting it?"
"Admitting what?"
Fedyor glares at him even more violently, and Ivan sighs and gives in. "Fine," he says, lowering his voice and looking from side to side. "Maybe you are my boyfriend. Don't tell anyone."
"Oh," Fedyor says virtuously, putting one arm around Ivan's waist and snuggling in -- in full view of everyone, even General Kirigan, though Ivan has a sinking feeling that Kirigan, and indeed all of them, are entirely unsurprised. "Don't worry, Vanya. It's far too late for that."
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18, 19, 22, 23 (pick any if you have time, no pressure!)
❤️ Jane :)
Hello Jane! I'm thrilled to answer all of these!
18. It's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on. . .
THE COMEDY POTENTIAL. You guys know me, you can look through my top posts, they're pretty much all comedic. I LOVE to laugh, it's my whole thing, it's why I enjoy the things I do: I think it's fucking funny. Marauders as a whole is a very angsty fandom, and while that's good and fine and I really enjoy a lot of the angst, we NEED more laughter and more silliness in this fandom! Like, I want you all to just think about one of the main premises of Marauders: nobody knows Remus is a werewolf except for like 4 other people. This means that he's gonna have to come up with bullshit excuses and people are gonna be theorizing on his behavior and he's gonna get into some sticky situations that he might just have to get out of via refuge in absurdity. Another main premise of Marauders is that the Marauders are PRANKSTERS. Pranksters with no concept of what "going too far" is. I want them to do shit that is genuinely hilarious. Dropping dung bombs in the corridors is first year stuff. Give me Marauders who spiked all the professors drinks with alcohol last night, so all the teachers show up to class drunk and/or hungover. Give me marauders who have the Gryffindor trait of audacity and say the most wild shit. Marauders has such high potential for hilarity, and I'm the kind of person who likes all comedy all the time. I'm not funny enough to do this all myself, I need the rest of ya'll to contribute too.
19. You're mad/ashamed/horrified that you kind of like. . .
"Good" Snape fics. I am a very loud hater of Severus Snape. He bullies children. Look me in the eyes and tell me Neville deserved that, tell me Seamus deserved that, tell me Hermoine deserved that, tell me fucking HARRY deserved that. This man should not be allowed to be in the same room as children, let alone have any authority over him. He's a fucking murderer Dumbledore, why do you let him teach? But, as you may notice, I tend to chalk up a lot of Snape's frankly idiotic situation to Dumbledore's lack of care for his own students and the people underneath him. I find I actually really enjoy Snape and even his mean and cruel tendencies in the right situations, so while I'm pretty pissed about it, I do actually like fics where Snape gets redeemed or gets to have a different job. Or, hell, I read a good DADA Professor Harry fic a while back where he just gets to survive the war so that he's forced to be an equal and a colleague with Neville and Harry who senselessly bully him about it, and that was GOLD. I hate Snape, but I love Snape. I love to hate him and I hate to love him. It's a whole thing.
22. Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
Hmm. This could go in a lot of different directions, since my favorite part has a tendency to shift and change over time (I read HP when I was 9, we've been here for a while). While I won't say it's my favorite thing about canon, I get ridiculously bothered by people ignoring Dudley. Because there's real potential there! Yes, he's a bully, yes he's a jerk, yes he's a little dumb in the earlier books, yes he's absolutely awful to Harry in every conceivable way. But it's pretty clear this is all just a reflection of what his parents taught him, and when faced with irrefutable evidence that they are wrong (Harry saving his life), he does his best to change with his limited knowledge of how. Dudley Dursley is not somebody that I see Harry ever seeking out in his life in his later years. But those interactions he has with Harry from book 5 onward say to me that Dudley is trying. That he would really work on himself in the future, probably become a bit more separated from his parents (he's shown to be annoyed with Aunt Petunia's smothering as early as book 4, and he doesn't actually seem to like or hang out with his father much). And then a lot more separated. I can see Dudley Dursley marrying into the magical world. I can see him seeking out Harry and trying to build something there. And Harry is a forgiving enough person that I can see him accepting that. Dudley is a character with a ton of potential. And it's potential that I think people would recognize a lot more if they weren't so distracted by his counterpart/character foil Draco Malfoy. Because the longer you think about it, the more you realize that Draco and Dudley are in almost identical situations by the end of the book, but Draco is the only one anybody cares about because---say it with me everyone---he's pretty. Dudley being fat and having the face of a pig means that he gets ignored for absolutely NO good reason. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
23. Ship you've unwillingly come around to
RePeter (Regulus x Peter). I'm not the kind of person who actively ships Peter with anybody because a) I think he's demiromantic and demisexual, which means building a romantic relationship with someone would take all kinds of time and effort on both sides that I don't think anybody is prepared for and b) it is infinitely sillier if he is unrequitedly in love with EVERYONE at some point or another. But I do actually really like RePeter, mostly cuz I read a good Peter gets redeemed fic with RePeter endgame (no I don't remember the name of anything ever, go through the Peter x Regulus tag, you'll find it I'm sure). But also because they're character foils in every way. Think about it. Regulus started cradled in the arms of the Death Eaters and had to come to a number of unsettling realizations to force his way out of it, which ultimately cost him his life (something he willingly gave). Peter meanwhile, was surrounded by every opportunity to choose good, but wasn't willing to lose his life for his morals, and so he threw them out the window and chose survival. Both of them were MONUMENTAL to Voldemort's cause (both in building him up and defeating him) in both wars. They have almost entirely opposite relationships with Sirius Black (Peter was chosen by Sirius and went on to betray him and be seen as the scum under Sirius' boot, while Regulus was shunned by Sirius but went on to lose his life before he could become great and be remembered sadly but fondly by Sirius) but both deeply resent him. They just have a lot of interesting character interactions, and while I don't really like most Peter ships because I just can't see them spinning out successfully, I think RePeter is alright. IDK man, read random shit on AO3 by just scrolling through tags, you'll come across some real treasures and change your opinions about a lot of things.
Thanks so much for asking Jane, these were fun!
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strawberrystepmom ¡ 4 months ago
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hi kendy ❤️❤️ i am not up to date on the bachelor franchise so i'm afraid i can't weigh in in any meaningful way, however it did get me thinking...
if the residents of the meow meow mansion were to be on for your season, who all would have memorable entrances on night one and what kind of first impressions are they making?
feel free not to answer if the franchise is giving you the ick btw also i hope you're having a lovely day so far! <3
hello my beauty rook <3333 how are you? well i am hoping!!!! you are the best and ily thank u for asking bc this is such a fun question
tbh i'll never get the ick from reality show formats bc i'm addicted to them but the producers of this season of the bachelorette and i need 15 minutes in a locked room so i can yell at them...
BUT I DIGRESS!
i honestly feel like the men are so extra they're all trying to dazzle with an entrance. satoru probably walks in with a dozen roses, a one in a million smile, and knows he's gonna be a fan favorite so he doesn't bother doing much else. grimmjow just walks in and doesn't speak to anyone which is hilarious. yami is the same, he's just like *yawn* i'm here. but yk who really makes An Entrance? captain obi. man is ripping his shirt off on night one bc we don't believe in decorum when there is love to be won and he trains every day. please show us all 12 of your abs, akitaru obi, nobody here will complain.
tbh hyoga would make a very good entrance just bc he's hot. two buttons on his shirt buttoned, walking in with the swagger of a man who knows he's probably about to win the entire season if he plays his cards right. unattainable in feel. like tbh, to me, i don't like the golden retriever type men on the bachelor bc they always end up being awful but i do love a man who lets there be a little Mystery to him and he is the one.
as far as memorable first nights go - satoru gojo is the one. he is the instant fan favorite. everyone either wants us to get married or wants him to themselves so they hope that i die and it's hilarious.
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fictionz ¡ 3 months ago
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New Fiction 2024 - September
"The Cold Embrace" by Mary Elizabeth Braddon (1860)
To ghost, to suffer, to feel her hands.
"The Love Letter" by Jack Finney (1959)
We should be so lucky to have even a single letter to our name.
"Doggy-Dog World" by Hilary Leichter (2020)
We are what we want what we are what we want.
My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite (2018)
Not the horror story I expected, but rather a darkly comedic look at Nigerian society, and really society at large and the expectations and privileges we are afforded. The narrator had a particular approach to life that will click with anyone who can't let that mote of dust rest in peace.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata & trans. Ginny Tapley Takemori (2016)
We should all be so lucky as to find our own convenience store.
Dinotopia: A Land Apart from Time by James Gurney (1992)
Dinosaurs and humans create a wondrous socialist utopia, accompanied by gorgeous art. Also some pleistocene mammals for good measure.
Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu (1872)
The Austrian countryside is a gothic teenage wasteland.
Dead Space by Kali Wallace (2021)
You solve A.I. crimes, what do you get? A prosthetic shoulder and deeper in debt.
Allegiance in Exile by David R. George III (2013)
Allegiance in Exile is a bit scattered in the plot but they have a really cool and subtle reveal near the end. It's also interesting to hang out with Kirk as the five-year mission comes to a close. Who are you, who am I, when the thing is done and the future awaits?
The Baby-sitter by R.L. Stine (1989)
Things move along predictably and then WHOA he really ratchets up the horror at the end, particularly for a book targeted at young teens. As the advertisement at the end of the book states, nobody scares 'em like R.L. Stine.
Be Afraid — Be Very Afraid! by R.L. Stine (1999)
Aw R.L., you had me going! It's a strange format at first, then it starts to get intriguing, but then the page count limit rears its head and the story wraps up way too blithely.
The Curse of the Creeping Coffin by R.L. Stine (1996)
Doesn't hit the same wacky highs as the previous entry, but the myriad ghost adventures won me over in the end.
"Under the Floorboards" by Emily Carroll (2012)
It's all fun and games until you and you can't work it out.
"Nightfall" by Bill DuBay & Bernie Wrightson (1977)
Who else would it be at this time of night?
"Monster War" by Joy Chin, Christopher Golden, Tom Sniegoski, Vitor Ishimura, Scott Kester, Trroy Peteri (2005)
Lots of cooks in this kitchen, ingredients in this stew. The monster mash is more interesting than the IP side of the dish.
"The wind carries your last cry away" by avi (2024)
And at long last only the hills will know.
A Guest in the House by Emily Carroll (2023)
It doesn't matter if you see what you think you saw. It's there, waiting for you.
Frankenstein: Junji Ito Story Collection by Junji Ito (2018)
Read it for Frankenstein, stay for the strange tales of Oshikiri and his poorly secured house.
Frankenstein 2000 dev. Peter Fothergill (1985)
Only vaguely related to Frankenstein but such a creative collection of levels that it doesn't matter, they're still great.
Castle Frankenstein dev. Epic Software (1984)
Oh, sweet forgiving parser and high contrast colors. With those basics out of the way, this is a text adventure game that can actually be enjoyed.
The Crow dir. Rupert Sanders (2024)
The look of a crow but the heart of a checklist.
1992 dir. Ariel Vromen (2024)
Couldn't decide between the backdrop or the foreground.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice dir. Tim Burton (2024)
Just hang in there for the finale.
The Front Room dir. Max Eggers & Sam Eggers (2024)
You're here for Kathryn Hunter.
Häxan dir. Benjamin Christensen (1922)
Now that's something. It presaged true crime television with live reenactments.
Friday the 13th: A New Beginning dir. Danny Steinmann (1985)
I guess you have to try and get away.
The Critic dir. Anand Tucker (2024)
Delightfully devilish, Sir Ian.
Paranormal Activity dir. Oren Peli (2007)
Whoa that's a slow simmer with a spicy kick.
Speak No Evil dir. James Watkins (2024)
I suppose, but the ending is lacking and we all know it.
The Killer's Game dir. J. J. Perry (2024)
I wish I could be there but I fell overboard early on.
Vampyr dir. Carl Theodor Dreyer (1932)
Not quite the classic vampirism I crave.
November dir. Rainer Sarnet (2017)
Listen, gardening tool servants possessed by demons.
Crimson Peak dir. Guillermo del Toro (2015)
Looks pretty!
Whiplash dir. Damien Chazelle (2014)
JK Simmons is too good at being the worst.
The Substance dir. Coralie Fargeat (2024)
I too made noises of discomfort for the duration.
Never Let Go dir. Alexandre Aja (2024)
On the edge of something, but never at the heart of it.
The Others dir. Alejandro AmenĂĄbar (2001)
A slow and perhaps predictable build to the sublime.
The Purge dir. James DeMonaco (2013)
We're not supposed to want more.
Wolfs dir. Jon Watts (2024)
The classic fun of assassination friends.
Bagman dir. Colm McCarthy (2024)
Just creepy enough to getcha.
Azrael dir. E.L. Katz (2024)
Needs a survival horror video game stat.
The Wild Robot dir. Chris Sanders (2024)
Gorgeous scenery and heartfelt robot moments my beloved.
Megalopolis dir. Francis Ford Coppola (2024)
Should I go and take a classics class again?
Rosemary's Baby dir. Roman Polanski (1968)
I waited for the twist and its arrival was so subtle that it made me stop and think about where I was.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers dir. Philip Kaufman (1978)
We lost something when we stopped employing the hushed and overlapping dialogue of the 70s. This remake is chock full of that and running scenes with with very audible footsteps. But it's also creepy as heck and surprisingly fleshy.
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worriedvision ¡ 2 years ago
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The aftermath of Dating Cyno (featuring Tighnari)
Dating Cyno is here. Gender neutral reader, angst lol.
--
You started to volunteer as a forest ranger when you realised you couldn't work anywhere else without thinking of Cyno. You saw him around often when you weren't in Ghandarva ville, and it never stopped hurting when he no longer showed you any affectionate looks. You knew you could defend yourself and fight when it was needed, and you never fully understood why Cyno thought the relationship being public would be an issue.
Tighnari found out more about you when you volunteered more, asking him if you could perhaps work there. He asked for your CV, expecting a subpar thing, only to be impressed when he spots your previous work. He takes you under his wing, taking you along for more difficult excursions.
When he asks you to accompany him to an outing with his friend, you nod. You thought it would be nice to see what your boss was like outside of work, and you felt like you were finally starting to move on from Cyno.
When you see Cyno with someone there, you were dreading the whole thing. The dinner consisted of Tighnari shaking his head disapprovingly at Cyno whenever he cracked a joke, the person sitting next to him hugging his arm and giggling at whatever Cyno said - even the things that were so obviously not jokes - and you feeling entirely out of place. Cyno didn't dare look at you either, and you thought it was simply because he was sick of seeing you all the time.
"What do you think of the joke, hmm?" Cynos partner asks, looking over at you. "I found it hilarious. Babe, you're so funny."
You manage to stop the eye roll, but you can't stop the unimpressed look.
"It wasn't funny." You bluntly state.
Tighnari nods, expecting that to be that.
"Oh, you're just jealous that the funniest man in Teyvat is not single." The person presses themselves against Cynos arm, him not making a move to shake them off.
"I'm not jealous of a man who makes terrible jokes." You state. Tighnari tries to stop you from being too harsh, but he's unable to stop it. "If he wants a laugh out of people - a genuine laugh - he needs to try."
Silence at the dinner table, the clanking of cutlery being the only thing in the room. You excuse yourself from the table, paying for the meal before leaving. Hearing a set of footsteps chasing to catch up with you, you brace yourself for a scolding.
"What was that?" Tighnari asks.
"What? He isn't funny." You continue to be blunt.
"But that felt way more personal than what most people would say." Tighnari explains. "I want to know why you were so abrupt with Cyno."
"Promise to keep this to yourself?" You ask, looking around to check nobody is eavesdropping. Seeing a nod, as well as nobody else, you continue. "Cyno and I used to be lovers. He forbade us from being public, explaining it was for my safety. Seeing that person being affectionate hurt."
Tighnari nods in understanding.
"If I am being honest, I think you'd treat my friend better than that gold digger." Tighnari states, catching you off guard. "What? It's true, isn't it? The way they kept batting their eyelashes, ordering the more luxurious items on the menu and finding every little thing Cyno said funny?"
"I got all that, but you couldn't think of another term?" You scold him lightly, Tighnari smirking as he shakes his head no.
"Well, I'm sorry for ruining the atmosphere at the table there regardless." You apologise.
"Don't be." Tighnari states. "I think both Cyno and myself felt happier in a way. It stopped that person from being as blatant as they were before." He laughs lightly, looking over at the forest. "I wished you told me about the situation, although I think I should have told you about my friend as well." He reasons.
You nod, thinking to yourself once again.
"So...when did Cyno start dating them?" You ask. "Not that I'm hoping to be a replacement, I just want to know if I was somehow a side piece. I don't think he would do that, but I would like that closure as well."
"Well, I believe they only started dating a few days ago based on his letters. It is strange, Cyno accepting that much affection this early." Tighnari sighs out. "Maybe he's growing desperate."
A desperate man that wasn't happy with the idea of you being affectionate in public with him in the entire duration of your relationship, you think to yourself.
"Less of that." Tighnari scolds lightly. "Yes, you said that out loud." He tuts, you now at your house. "Well, get some rest, and don't let that gold digger get you down." He waves, heading back home.
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mlbigbang ¡ 2 years ago
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2022 Ladynoir Fic Rec List
It's the end of the year which means it's finally time for the ML Big Bang's yearly fic rec lists! We're really excited to bring you our contributors' favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you're waiting for the Big Bang fics' publication in January.
Movie Date, Interrupted by @purrfectlypunny 1,043 words, General, 1/1 chapter
Ladybug and Chat Noir finally have time to spend together at a movie; unfortunately, a goofy akuma and a moody teenager have other plans.
"The dynamic between Ladybug and Chat is so good!!"
Polaris by @miabrown007 4,029 words, Teen, 3/3 chapters
Adrien had lost everything. Along with his Miraculous, he gave up his freedom, his kwami, his partner; there’s nothing else left to lose. But maybe it is an akuma attack going so predictably wrong all it takes to change his fate, and prove his worth in the team to the only person doubting it: himself. *** Kuro Neko-divergent hurt/comfort fic
"I am weak for any hurt/comfort that is made worse (better) by identity barriers. This fic very much delivers."
breaking me down to my knees in the dead of night by @sunfoxfic 2,429 words, General, 1/1 chapter
Marinette ran off in the middle of an argument and Adrien panicked. Now, he has showed up to patrol as Catwalker, and he has to lie in the bed he's made, even if he overreacted a bit much.
"(technically Ladywalker, but anyway…) A very sweet fluff-and-angst fic that gently but realistically portrays neurodivergence."
Maintaining a Professional Distance by @buggachat 43,417 words, Teen, 11/11 chapters
“I mean, how dumb does the mayor think we are? Offering us a permanent hotel room as a ‘gesture of gratitude for all our work for Paris’, like it isn’t clearly just some half-baked political ploy to place him more in the public’s favor after the whole school funding scandal, like we’ll allow ourselves to sleep in a hotel that we were publicly offered, making ourselves sitting ducks for Hawkmo—” “It’s a pretty big building,” he countered, and at least he seemed amused, because she certainly wasn’t, “Nobody knows which room we were given but us.” “It doesn’t matter!” she scoffed, “It’s still a security risk that he can narrow our location down at all! Also,” she jutted her arms out towards the bed a second time, “May I remind you? ONE. BED. ONE!” ——— Or, Ladybug and Chat Noir receive a hotel room from the city, which they most certainly will not use. After all, that wouldn't be very professional, would it? Yes, it's a Ladynoir bed sharing fic.
"Genuinely one of the most in character Ladynoir fics I've read. I love how the conflicts are resolved, how the characters deal with the fallout, and how no one is villainized. There's the "there's only one bed" trope, Marinette is a MESS but we love her for it, clownbug, Adrien is oblivious, Chat is a dork. Fun times all around."
"The best "There was only one bed" fic you will ever read. Ladybug and Chat Noir get their own dedicated suite in Le Grand Palais, as thanks for their continuing work protecting the city. Only one bed shouldn't be a problem since they both have a home and a bedroom anyway, right? Except.... sometimes Marinette needs to get away from the kwamis and have some space, and sometimes (a lot) Chat Noir needs to get away from whatever is happening with his family, soooooo..... "Friends with benefits without the benefits" is the perfect tag. It's hilarious. It's sweet. It's romantic and emotional."
Hamburger Ladybug by RaspberryCatapult 1,773 words, Teen, 1/1 chapter
Ladybug runs into a burning building. What comes out no longer resembles anything that can be described as a person.
"So, it's a little graphic, as it's about Ladybug running into a burning building, getting charred up, and Chat staying with her in the hospital. BUT...it is beautifully written - descriptive and emotionally spot on (pun intended). And the ending is mind-blowing. It never leaves you. Totally original."
i am not a puppet (i will work against your strings) by @bugchat 7,525 words, Teen, 1/1 chapter
Nothing quite hurts like loneliness– unless you count being thrown against a wall at top speed, while Ladybug’s horrified expression follows you. Adrien questions how he got here, pressed against a wall while fighting for his life, watching the city crumble around him while Ladybug stares. There are other heroes, a second, third, fourth villain, and all he’s done is give the villain the power to win. It’s over.
"GORGEOUSLY WRITTEN!!!! in love with how Cartara provided an Adrien POV to the season 4 final!!!!"
Wait— Don't let this line go slack by DescentIntoAbsurdity 14,418 words, Teen, 1/1 chapter
I think you've got the wrong number She sends her simple text, satisfied. Then she goes about and wipes down the benches and puts away the flour, and thinks, wait. I have a thousand neighbourhood cats that loiter around my apartment complex and threaten me for food. I cook cat treats in my free time. I know what to feed cats. Marinette deals with her crush on Adrien, cute neighbour and well-known model. She also tries to cope with baking in her free time, and her college assignments, and her growing feelings for Chat Noir; a boy who accidentally texted her regarding his cat. It's going about as well as can be expected.
"loved to follow their interractions via text and their fumblings irl"
Take 31 #LadyNoir kiss, action! by @malauu-ladynoir 41,422 words, Teen, 31/31 chapters
How many kisses does it take to let feelings spread free? How many redo to finally get over the subdued inhibition? Is it a first tentative kiss propelling you in an awkward leap into the unknown? Or is it the one built from years of holding back repressed feelings? When Ladybug and Chat Noir get asked to play themselves in a movie the drama doesn’t just stay on set. With a new nemesis, a dreaded kissing scene, consuming feelings and a new revelation can Ladybug finally give in to what she’s always held back…her love for her partner? Can Chat Noir's heart still be able to surrender?
"I absolutely loved Ladynoir's dynamic in this fic, it's so good!"
one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus 99,476 words, Mature, 34/43 chapters
All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace. Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most. Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.
"Quite possibly my favorite ml fic ever. Is really all sides of the love square (Ladynoir is emphasized, especially towards the beginning, also Mari...walker?), as well as other pairings (Lukazoe, DJwifi, and Feligami), and a lot of amazing action and office espionage. Chat Noir was killed by Monarch in front of all of Paris, and Ladybug swore revenge. Now, after a strange visit from Bunnyx, Monarch is suddenly back, along with a team of Miraculous users that Ladybug has to face all by herself. Amazing character interactions, new uses of Miraculouses, fantastic action scenes, and heartbreak, heartbreak everywhere. Also senticousins."
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pjsk-writin ¡ 2 years ago
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(HEY!2x)
I love your youngest sibling request cause it’s so cute and wholesome. Can you do it again, but make it male twin prompt with Emu, Mafuyu, Mizuki, and An? p.s I’m the youngest, so I can relate but I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have another younger sibling.
HII!! and im glad to hear it!! but oo okok, and FAIR im personally the oldest so... but I hope you like this!! <3
♡ TWIN - Emu Otori, Mafuyu Asahina, Mizuki Akiyama and An Shiraishi x Reader
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Emu:
I think there's nothing funnier than imagining Emu's twin being either the opposite or the same as her, so let me go over both-
If you're very similar to Emu, then congrats! The Otori twins are infamous for being loud-
Tsukasa and Nene will get headaches, they'll be absolutely reeling from the thought that there is not just Emu, but a twin that looks and acts exactly like her-
You two are just an absolute force of chaos, and you two always seem to understand things that nobody else does
Now, on the other hand, if you're opposites? It's also just as hilarious to witness-
Imagine a very bubbly and happy girl bouncing around with her very chill/calm twin just standing there
She will try to drag you into her silly plans, which usually turns into complete and utter chaos whether you're involved or not-
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Mafuyu:
Mafuyu’s twin would probably have an...Interesting life, to say the least
She's a golden child through and through, so it's likely that all of the expectations that she has are put on your shoulders as well
The two of you compete in that field, but there's no malice behind it. You both are just trying to survive in that aspect
Whether or not your childhood impacts you the same way it does with Mafuyu, you still have the same childhood. She seeks refuge in you because of it
You're one of the few people who are allowed to see her with her guards down. She knows you've seen her true self, so she doesn't bother hiding from you
If you end up pursuing a certain passion, she'll watch you with interest. She does think that you deserve to have passions, she just wishes she had some of her own
You're also one of the few people who have seen her genuine smile. It's a nice privilege!
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Mizuki:
Being Mizuki’s twin is...Also very interesting
You two grow up together just fine, if anything the two of you get along really well! They tease and joke with you all the time
But then middle school hits. And suddenly Mizuki is not the same
They're very reserved all of a sudden, refusing to tell you what's going on whenever they lock themselves in their room
It took a while for them to come to you, but you've never seen them be so relieved when you tell them that you support them no matter what <3
They start to become more and more confident in themself, and eventually, they evolve into the Mizuki you know and love today!
They definitely trust you a lot, and have made you model for them multiple times. They like to give you gifts in appreciation <3
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An:
Being both An's twin and Ken's son, you are surrounded by musicians!
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However, neither of them will force you into music, or even working at the WEEKEND GARAGE! An in particular is very adamant that you explore your own passions
She's a very friendly person, so if you're someone who doesn't like to socialize, chances are that she'll do all the talking for you-
She's always happy to have someone else around, and will constantly hang out with you whenever she can!
The two of you definitely learn each other’s favorite foods/drinks, and you have mini competitions to see who can make the nicest dish/drink for the other
An will go to you and ask for your help on a lot of things. She finds that you're a nice person to practice singing in front of!
She's just very sweet overall, she definitely invites you to all of VBS' performances!
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existslikepristin ¡ 4 years ago
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Yexercise
This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.
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Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd
~~~~~
"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.
"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."
The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."
"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."
You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"
"Oh, Red Velvet?"
"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."
"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."
That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"
"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"
You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.
Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.
Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.
A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.
"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."
Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."
Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."
Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.
"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"
"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.
"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"
"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.
Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"
Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.
Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"
Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."
"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."
You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.
Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"
"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."
"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.
You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"
Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."
She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.
Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."
You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"
Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.
The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.
"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"
Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.
"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"
The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.
For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."
Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."
You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."
Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.
"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.
"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."
Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."
"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.
"Might as well have been! This is the best!"
You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."
That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"
You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.
"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"
Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."
Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"
Yeah. Why don't you?
Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.
2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.
3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...
~~~~~
You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.
"I'm going to guess it's you."
"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.
"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."
You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?
"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."
Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."
"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"
Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."
"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.
"H-hey! You know my hip--"
You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.
"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."
"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"
Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.
"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"
Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"
You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"
Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"
The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.
"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.
"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."
Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."
You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.
“You could put me in a bed.”
“Snappy one. I like it.”
Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”
“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”
“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”
You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”
“You can eat me.”
After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”
“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”
“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”
“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”
“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”
Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.
“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”
“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”
“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”
She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”
Smooth, you think.
The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.
It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.
One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.
“Personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.
“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”
“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”
Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.
Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.
“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”
You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.
“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”
Options for Part 2:
1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.
~~~~~
“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”
Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”
“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”
“I was, you know.”
You hesitate…
“No! I don’t know! What?!”
“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”
“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”
“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”
You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.
“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”
“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.
“It’s not all I want to do.”
“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”
Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”
“I’m all for it.”
She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.
Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.
You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.
"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.
You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.
You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.
"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."
"Oh. Uh, sure."
"Like, draw blood."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."
You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"
Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."
You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.
Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.
It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.
You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.
Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.
She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.
It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.
“Tired?” you ask anyway.
“I also want to try pet play.”
You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”
“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.
You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”
Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”
“They are varied.”
“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.
“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”
Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.
Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.
Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]
~~~~~
“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.
Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”
You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.
“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”
You moan your agreement into another kiss.
“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”
You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.
“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”
So it seems she plans on you working out too.
“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.
You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.
“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”
Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.
When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”
You stand above her, unsure how to respond.
“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”
“Uh, no?”
“What?! That’s like, a classic!”
“Is that one of yours?”
“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”
“You just called your own song a classic.”
Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”
That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”
She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.
“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”
You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.
Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.
Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.
Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.
You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.
“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.
“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”
“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”
“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”
“Why? Didn’t you like that?”
“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”
Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.
“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”
You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”
She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.
Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.
Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.
“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”
You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…
You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.
Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.
“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”
You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.
Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.
You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.
“More?” she asks this time.
“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”
Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”
You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.
Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”
A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”
“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.
“You calling me a liar?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”
She makes a valid argument.
Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.
~~~~~
“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”
A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.
“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”
You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”
“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”
Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.
The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.
You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.
You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.
It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?
You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.
“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”
“Ssshut up.”
Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.
There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.
That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.
You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.
You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.
“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”
You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.
“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.
You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.
Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.
Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”
In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.
Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.
On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.
After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.
Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.
You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.
Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”
“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”
Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”
You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.
“Yup. Definitely something like that.”
Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”
She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.
Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.
~~~~~
“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”
Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”
“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”
“Yeah, which you did.”
“Did you cum?”
“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”
“Do you want to?”
Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”
“Challenge accepted then.”
She raises her eyebrows at you.
“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”
Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.
“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.
“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.
“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”
“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”
Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”
“You nervous?”
“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”
“Uncomfortable maybe?”
“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.
“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Good enough huh?”
“Yup.”
“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”
“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”
Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”
You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.
The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.
As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.
Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.
“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”
You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”
A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.
As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.
“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”
Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.
“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”
You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.
“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”
Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.
The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.
“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”
Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.
“That��s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”
“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”
Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”
“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”
Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.
Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.
Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.
“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”
Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.
"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"
"Y-yup."
"How many left?"
"Three."
"Five."
"What the fu--"
You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."
She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"
As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."
Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.
Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."
Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.
She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."
"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.
You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."
It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.
She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.
Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.
The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.
Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.
Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.
You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.
When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."
That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…
A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.
"So I keep going, eh?"
"Mmmfffmm."
You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.
Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.
"How do you feel?" you ask.
Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."
You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"
"Don't you dare get off of me."
"Woah! Noted. Nice."
Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."
"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."
"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"
Ummm… is it fair?
Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!
~~~~~
In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”
“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”
“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”
Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”
“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”
“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”
Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”
You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.
You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.
For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.
At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.
Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.
The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.
It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.
You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.
“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.
Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.
Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.
Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.
You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”
“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”
“What do you think was different?”
“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”
“You don’t get your clit played with often?”
“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”
You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.
Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).
Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”
“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”
“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”
The two of you smirk at each other.
“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”
You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”
“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”
Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.
This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!
~~~~~
You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.
"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."
You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.
"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."
You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.
Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.
“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”
“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”
Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.
You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.
Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”
It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”
Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”
Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.
You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”
“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”
The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.
“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”
You easily follow her instructions.
“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”
“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”
“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”
“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”
“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”
Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”
The two of you share a chuckle.
“So how long do I hold this?”
“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”
“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.
She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”
“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”
“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”
Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”
“Shoot.”
“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”
“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”
“Four?”
“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”
“But you’re not into it?”
“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”
You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.
Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”
You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”
“A T? Like the letter T?”
“Exactly.”
“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.
Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”
This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.
“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”
The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.
~~~~~
"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"
Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."
That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.
Right?
"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."
You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"
"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."
"The things people do for the sake of relationships."
"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."
You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."
"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."
"Damn, why?"
"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."
"That sucks. I'm sorry."
"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"
"I'm not a commodity!"
"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.
You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."
"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"
Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"
Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."
You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”
Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”
That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”
“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.
“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”
“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.
There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”
“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”
You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”
“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”
“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”
“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”
Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.
“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”
Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.
“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”
You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.
“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.
Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.
The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.
~~~~~
You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.
“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.
“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”
Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.
“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.
Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.
“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”
“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”
Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.
“I appreciate the thought.”
You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”
Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
A woman of few words, this one.
With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”
“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”
You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”
Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”
“Either works for me.”
Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”
For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”
You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”
“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.
“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”
The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”
It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.
Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.
“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”
You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.
“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”
“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”
Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”
You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”
Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.
“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.
“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”
“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”
“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”
You’re not so sure how you feel about that.
“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”
This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…
~~~~~
You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.
“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”
Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”
At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.
“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.
A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.
“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”
Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”
She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.
As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”
You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”
“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”
“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”
“Your life, huh?”
“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”
“God, she better not be doing that again.”
You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”
“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”
“Something like that, sure.”
Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”
Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”
“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”
You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.
“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”
“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.
“Don’t tempt me like that!”
All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.
Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.
Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.
“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.
“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”
“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”
You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”
Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”
Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”
Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.
You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”
“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.
You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.
THE END
~~~~~
Post-story notes:
Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!
We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.
As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.
The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]
And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.
Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.
Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.
Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P
Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!
Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).
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thunderheadfred ¡ 4 years ago
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❄️Todoroki HC's🔥
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Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.
- - -
General
Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.
He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.
He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.
Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?
Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.
Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.
Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.
He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.
He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.
Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.
Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.
Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.
This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.
- - -
Dating
A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.
Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.
Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.
Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.
Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.
He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.
STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.
Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.
Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.
He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!
The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.
- - -
Icy-Hot
I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.
If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.
Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?
Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.
Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).
His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.
Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.
Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.
His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.
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bookwyrminspiration ¡ 2 years ago
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Gethen does both, he's both the most masculine man you've ever seen and he absolutely kills it in a tuxedo and masculine shirts and his very expensive sunglasses when he's outside and absolutely cannot resist going shopping for more and luxerious clothing. He tries to dominate every event he goes to. He is rivaled only by Emery, who needs that style to keep up his image
Gethen also has a wide selection of the most beautiful and elegant ball gowns anyone has ever laid eyes on. He poses himself like he truly is royalty. He calls attention to himself in a way others can't and makes men and women alike faint when he throws them a wink.
Gethen still feels so scandalised by having to go outside looking like a complete nobody, and the fact that it was for nothing? Even worse! It's why he hates Sophie so much, both because she ruined his perfect face by breaking his nose, and ever since he got out he's been begging Fintan to let him leave the base so he can show off his clothes again and destroy that little bitch of a girl that made him look like a troll that had been born defective, even if the nose still somehow suits him. He is no longer pretty and he hates it and he wants revenge!!
He was part of the nobility before he joined the neverseen, but he joined it because he wanted the council gone because of Emery always a managing to upstage him.
Gethen could care less about elf rights or humans or the environment, as long as he is the prettiest and sexiest person in the room.
Also he absolutely kicked the dog that bit him
The ask this is in response to was from like a month ago so here's the link for anyone who needs it!
You know what I am fully invested in this characterization of Gethen. It is not at all what I expected of him but so many of the other Neverseen characters have been embellished by the fandom it seems only fitting Gethen receives some love and attention as well.
Something about the idea of Gethen and Emery competing to be the most fashionable and luxuriously dressed person at all times is hilarious. Like yes they're fighting against each other and trying to destroy the other (though the council is a lot more passive and unsuccessful) but also on top of that there's a little rivalry going on between them. Imagine the fashion rivalry is more important like "oh btw just exploded your castle with my mind but you know what else? my designer heels match my fitted slacks better than yours get fucked <3"
People fainting when Gethen winks at them just makes me wonder if it's the style or the being a Neverseen member. Because the way I'm picturing this he's strolling down the street in his most over the top get up and throwing winks and coy smiles and watching people flush and faint over his gorgeousness, but from everyone else's perspective they're going "oh fuck it's a neverseen member I'm going to die" and fainting from fear that he misinterprets as affection.
You're so right Nonsie extreme vanity like this in villains is hilarious. Him throwing a hissy fit over his broken nose and wanting revenge on Sophie for the most unreasonable and petty of reasons. She could kill him and he'd be like aw rats, but because of her he existed in the ugliest clothes ever in public?? Death. Death to her immediately. I also think it'd be funny if he had a completely skewed perception of what fashionable clothes were so his idea of the best outfit ever is just absolutely atrocious to everyone else and the outfit he's complaining about and hates Sophie for is just...something normal.
Here's hoping he can continue to be the prettiest and sexiest person in every room so that he is satisfied and no one has to deal with him because he's content in his own bubble of vanity! Bonus points if he messes up the Neverseen's plans because he had a photo shoot he couldn't miss and didn't show up to the evil big bad guy plan on time
also I am kicking him back for kicking that dog
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