#quite the fitting theme to match
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professionaltrash101 · 2 years ago
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Went to check on my daily @a-mag-a-day and oh boy you know it's going to be good when I'm greeted with this
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yume-fanfare · 10 months ago
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the prompt for the last day of tetohina week was au, so i thought it was the perfect chance to finally finish this idea i've had in mind for a few months already: phantom thieves! + tetora who is more like a vigilante sldkjmlsks
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boyapologist · 6 days ago
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uuuuuh I don't know how I feel about her guys
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yandere-writer-momo · 6 months ago
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Prequel Part I
Yandere Short Story Series:
Too Late For Remorse
Yandere Cheater Duke x Countess Reader x Duke
TW: murder, yandere themes, cheating (mentioned), delusional behavior, yandere is the villain, etc.
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“So you’re breaking off the engagement between my son and your daughter?” Duke Blackburn sat in the chair across from Count (last name). The older Duke delicately held the tea cup in his hand.
“I apologize for breaking the agreement, but my daughter cannot be without a man who associates with the Serpico family.” Duke Blackburn nodded his head in agreement.
“I understand, I’m also not a big fan of infidelity.” It was quite well known in the noble faction that Duke Blackburn’s wife had messed around with many knights during their short marriage. Which worked in Count (Last name)’s favor since Duke Blackburn despised the unfaithful.
Duke Blackburn continued the conversation, “You know your daughter was promised to marry a Blackburn. It’d be a shame to not have such a beautiful woman in our family. I have another son who’s a few years younger than her.”
“Eh, I don’t know if Broderick be a good match since he’s not quite mature yet…” Count (Last name) sighed. “I wouldn’t mind my daughter marrying you if I’m honest-“
Duke Blackburn’s cheeks flushed in shock, the Duke nearly dropped his tea cup from the Count’s words. “I beg your finest pardon?”
“My daughter would be in good hands if she was with you. You’re mature and you’ve been single for over a decade.” Count (last name) gestured to the portrait of his daughter behind him. “You said it yourself that my daughter was beautiful.”
“That does not mean I want to marry a woman half my age-“
“Duke Lucius Blackburn and Duchess (your
name), I can picture it.” Count (last name) howled with laughter when the Duke hid his scarred face in his gloved hands. The older Duke felt embarrassed by the Count’s teasing.
Lucius and (your name)? It is a normal occurrence of marrying a younger woman in this day and age, but she was his own son’s ex-fiancée! Then again, it would be a similar situation if she became engaged to Broderick…
“Alright. I will marry your daughter-“ Duke Blackburn put his hand on Count (last name)’s shoulder before the smaller man could cheer. “But consult with her first. I’m an old man and I’m still the commander of the Royal’ Family’s army. I’d hardly have time for her.”
“Of course I will. I’m sure she will be delighted!”
Duke Blackburn and Count (last name) continued to have small talk but Lucius couldn’t help the feeling of nervousness that crept up his veins. Would she really be alright with a man like him?
.
.
.
“So Duke Blackburn said he’d marry you if you’d like to be with him.” (Your name) quirked a brow at her father. The young woman slowly sipped the tea her father had prepared for this meeting. She was a bit surprised her father wanted to find her a partner this quickly, but she was also in her prime. If (your name) didn’t marry soon, she never would.
“But I just ended my engagement to him-“
“Wrong Blackburn, my dear. I’m talking about Lucius Blackburn-“ (your name) spat out the tea and choked a bit. Lucius?! As in Trishan’s father?! “Are you alright?”
“Father, you can’t possibly- why?” (Your name) struggled to formulate words as a million questions ran through her brain. Engagement to Trishan’s father?! His father?!
“Well, he’s a much better man than his spawn. Don’t you think, my dear?” Count (last name) puffed his chest out in pride. “Plus he’s still quite fit despite his age-“
“Father!” (Your name) stood up, her being frazzled with bewilderment. “It hasn’t even been a week since my engagement was annulled and… that man is old enough to be my father!”
“But he would treat you well!”
(Your name) shook her head and was about to excuse herself from the table. How was she supposed to get her revenge if she now had to marry Trishan’s father?
(Your name) held her head while the gears began to turn in her head. Wait. This could work… she could use Lucius to her advantage.
“You’re right, father. How could I not see that before?” (Your name) bent down and pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek. “Thank you, daddy.”
The count was in shock before his whole face lit up. He was so happy to bring his daughter joy! She deserved to be happy!
.
.
.
Trishan threw a chair across his room in anger. His engagement had been annulled and his beloved was to marry his father?! No… this wasn’t how his second chance was supposed to work out! They were supposed to be happy together!
“Trishan?” Trishan’s blood went cold when he heard a familiar, feminine voice from outside his door. What was that snake doing here? “You haven’t replied to any of my letters and I’m really worried about you…”
Lies. That woman only wanted to become a Duchess and she had murdered (your name) in the past… was this her fault?
Trishan felt murderous intent drip throughout his veins as he stood up. Yes… this was Gia’s fault. If she didn’t exist… then (your name) would come back to him.
Trishan’s lips curved up in a demented smile. If he got rid of Gia then everything would fall back into place. Just like it was meant to.
“Wait for me darling… I’ll make everything right this time.”
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mariasont · 7 months ago
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The Receptionist - S.R
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a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader
summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz
warnings: fluff
wc: 0.8k
The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.
With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.
You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"
You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?
He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.
He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.
With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.
"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"
The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.
"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."
His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.
A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.
"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."
As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.
It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.
"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"
You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.
"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"
Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"
"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."
As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."
He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 
"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."
"What gave it away?"
You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."
With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 
Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.
"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"
"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."
You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."
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obsidian-pages777 · 1 month ago
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Pick a Pile: Your Future Fashion Choice +Love interest and Lifestyle. [Girls Edition]
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Top Left to Right= Pile 1->Pile 2. Bottom Left to Right= Pile 3->Pile4.
Introduction
Pick one of the Images above and you will receive some outfits inspo that will suit you the best in the future. You will also receive a reading on your potential love interest and your lifestyle.
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Pile 1
Your future style exudes an office siren and badass villain energy, with a preference for a dark, sophisticated color palette—think blacks, deep reds, maroons, greys, with accents of white and gold. You might accessorize in silver occasionally, and a bold red lip will likely be your go-to. Even on a minimal makeup day, a statement accessory could add that extra spark. This overall vibe will be strikingly sharp, almost vampire-esque, with a confident boss persona that draws attention the moment you walk in. Picture yourself in a high-powered corporate setting that requires formality, yet you’ll effortlessly exude that “high-value” look.
Interestingly, this era could open doors to a potential workplace romance. Picture a formal work event where you catch the eye of a charming individual—someone who wears glasses, has messy, dark curly or straight slick hair [Think of someone with a wolfcut or think of Prince Charmont from Ella Enchanted] , and a great personality with an introverted, brooding vibe. They might hold a senior role, like a project manager or supervisor, and have a naturally appealing charisma that others admire. Despite their introverted nature, they show a sweet nervousness around you that’s endearing. Your persona during this time might be a little sharper and more direct—focused on making moves and cutting distractions.
This phase may come after a breakup or a temporary break from a relationship that was overwhelming. This prior partner may attempt to re-enter your life, but by then, you’ll have met this new, more balanced person who feels refreshingly easy to be around. You’ll trust your instincts and follow your own path, even if it’s full of unexpected twists!
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Pile 2
When you adopt the cozy, layered looks in the images below, it might signal a season where you crave more time at home. You'll likely prefer staying in but, on those occasions when you do go out, you'll look your absolute best, like you just stepped off the set of a fall-themed movie—very "Gilmore Girls." During this phase, your focus could be on a significant project, such as a college assignment, work project, or a challenging exam. This period is all about staying single, striving toward future goals, and building a clear vision of your success, even if it feels just out of reach for now.
In terms of romance, no specific person catches your attention, though a few people might find you quite charming. However, you’re discerning, weighing any potential connections against your ideal partner. One person, in particular, may be interested, but they don’t quite align with your ambition or vision for the future. Though they’re attractive, kind-hearted, and you share great chemistry, their lack of drive doesn’t fit with your goals.
Despite how well you get along, you ultimately decide to move on, seeking something bigger and better aligned with your vision. Though a tough, perhaps even cold choice, this person will understand, showing emotional maturity even if they’re briefly heartbroken. You might even give them a meaningful parting gift, ending things on good terms. For now, you’ll continue your journey as an “Autumnal Fairy,” focused on your dreams, knowing that in time, a more suitable match will come along.
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Pile 3
Unlike the other piles, you’re embracing an avant-garde style, experimenting with accessories and layering pieces that you feel harmonize creatively. You’re drawn to a wide range of colors, thinking, “What’s life without color?” This shift reflects your desire to create a more vibrant life, filled with happiness and lively connections. Expect to add graphic-print dresses and colorful, patterned skirts to your wardrobe.
Through this vibrant energy, you may serendipitously meet someone whose grounded style—favoring blacks and earthy tones—contrasts yet complements your own. This person, with tan skin and a captivating smile, is drawn to the radiance you bring. Your charm and lively conversations will leave a lasting impression, making you feel like their favorite book, a story they can’t put down. They’ll be smitten by your style and personality, enchanted by your unique way of navigating life.
Enjoy this exciting, colorful phase—cheers to what’s ahead!
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Pile 4
It seems you’re headed for an all-pink or mostly pastel tones typa phase in the future! You might have felt drawn to another style as well, so expect to mix up your aesthetics often, making this time especially fun. You’ll be leaning into a “doll” look, inspired by Bratz or Barbie, with a wardrobe full of pastel tones. Your vibe will likely be sweet and demure, with favorite spots to visit with friends, like cozy cafes, grocery store runs, late-night drives, and park picnics. Theme parks might also be on your list!
During this phase, there’s a significant person by your side—a taller, older partner who is strong, protective, and deeply loyal. With a cooler, steady personality, they’re both a provider and a devoted companion who treats you like royalty, always willing to support and spoil you. If you’ve manifested this connection, it’s clear your efforts have worked, as this person truly feels like a keeper.
You’ve got this—go get that bag, sis!
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hyomaslut · 1 year ago
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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!
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☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ
✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!
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managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.
and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.
you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.
being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.
that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…
2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333
the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.
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ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.
in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.
apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.
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there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.
meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.
and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.
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someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.
the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.
honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.
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itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.
he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.
and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”
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you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.
it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.
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this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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youraverageaemondsimp · 11 months ago
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“Seven Above.” // Highly Religious Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
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DD:DNE ;; Reader discretion is heavily advised.
WARNINGS: noncon & dubcon, forced breeding, forced beliefs, breeding kink, religious themes and psychopathic aemond, dark!aemond, misogynistic views, pressure to fit into the gender norms, forced pregnancy, multiple orgasms, brainwashing(?), mindfucking, + not proofread. PLEASE BE EXTREMELY MINDFUL OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS
Block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to refrain from seeing my dark works.
WC: 2.1k
A/N: fic contains dark content, do not proceed to read if you are easily triggered or find the topics mentioned above triggering. // dividers by @cafekitsune
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Aemond was a man of the faith of the seven
He was extremely religious, his mother’s belief in the faith has also made him follow it, though he studied about dragons and old gods of Valyria, he didn't particularly follow them. His need for impressing his own mother, followed by his grandfather made him follow this faith more.
The only problem? He was way too religious and strict, but also hypocritical, he had shamed Aegon for being married to Helaena, but also desired her for himself, he would taunt his nephews for being bastards, yet also had one for himself with a common whore he could not remember the name of. He doesn't acknowledge them as sins however, saying that they are forgiven by the gods as he visits the sept daily.
Alicent did not know what to say, for when she would speak to him about what he's doing and points out his wrongdoings, he simply ignores her and tells her that her job as a woman isn't to judge, but rather understand and nurture, to which she couldn't argue against. So she remained silent.
Everything was going the same as usual, until Aemond was summoned by his grandfather, who had selected a proposal for him.
“The woman is Y/N of the L/N house, a woman loved by many, it will benefit us if we formed an alliance with her family, what do you think of it Aemond?” His grandfather questioned, to which Aemond nodded, saying it isn't too much of a bad match considering they had more to gain than lose, and so the proposal was quickly made.
Aemond only saw you on the day of the wedding, when your house arrived in the throne room, where Aegon sat in the middle, handling the matters. You had not shied away from looking in his eye, to which he was caught off guard by, his mind quickly realising how you are the feisty type.
The ceremony went well, Aemond refused the bedding ceremony and took you to your martial chambers before bedding you. He was gentle of course, he didn't do anything that was too painful.
One thing about Aemond is that, you should never get on his bad side, he is cruel just as he is lenient, you heard of what he had done to his own nephew, to riverrun, to the strong house, leaving absolutely no one alive from that bloodline, no woman or bastard was spared.
The first month flew by quickly, Aemond had gotten to know you better, and he quickly realised that you both don't share the same ideologies on most of the stuff, you even dared to speak back to him, to which he excused you of. Arguments with him on small things have started to happen, his opinion contradicting yours, and his refusal to understand your point of view made you extremely unaccepted, yet you still tried to convey your feelings to him, hoping somewhere deep down in your heart that he'd understand. After all, you had grown to love him a little. He was far better than any husband, most of them didn't even let their wife speak to them.
That was until the topic of children had come when you were dining together.
“Wife, Have you gotten your moon's blood yet?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, husband, it passed a few days ago and it is regular.” you tell him confused as to why he is asking this, “Are you perhaps barren?” He asks, which makes you feel shocked, and quite offended, “No! Why would you ask such a thing like that?” You ask, eyes slightly wide with shock. “Then why aren't you with child yet?” He questions as if you had any control over anything that happens after intercouse.
“It is only the second month, and besides….” You bite your lip and he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?” You sigh heavily, “I do not know how to ask of you this.” You tell him honestly, “What is it that you need wife? Dresses? Jewellery, do not be shy to ask, I am your husband after all. It is my duty to provide.” He rests his hand on yours, squeezing it in a reassuring way.
“I–” you take a deep breath, “I do not want children, at least, not yet.” you spit out.
It's almost as if everything had frozen in place, the air becomes silent with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace being heard. The tension becomes more imminent in the air as the Aemond continues to remain silent and not do anything, except directly stare at you.
His grip on your hand suddenly tightens, making you wince and you look at him pleadingly, “Have you gone mad?” He stands up, forcing you to stand up as well and you grip his arm tightly, not wanting to fall before balancing yourself, “Please- I am not yet ready, let me prepare myself mentally first.” You beg him and his other hand grabs you by your throat and pulls you closer to him, his grip on your throat begins to tighten, causing you to lose bloodflow to your head.
“I have done nothing except do my duty, be the ideal husband, provide for you, all while allowing you to express yourself yet it seems I was too lenient on you.” He growls, “Because here you are, asking me, to allow you to not have children. It is your sole duty as a wife and a woman, and you could not even provide such a thing?” He let goes of your throat, making you engulf a huge amount of air as you tried to calm down.
“Every woman is the image of the mother, she should have a natural nurturing personality towards anyone, especially to their own children, yet here you are refusing to be a mother to your own child or rather having one of yours, it is disgusting.” He says meanly and you glare at him, “I never said that I never wanted to be a mother, I asked you to give me time to which you are– hmmgh!” You are dragged by Aemond to the bed and thrown on it, you quickly lean on your elbows, fear gnawing in your stomach as you look at Aemond who seemed so furious at you, your heartbeat accelerated as he just stared down at you, like a predator staring at its prey.
“Your sin is forgiven, wife, I remembered how some women think they do not want children until they do, and then they become the best mothers and perfect wives known to man, maybe you are of that same category.” He keeps on talking, and you stare at him, confused and in fear, what in the seven hell was he talking about?
“It is no surprise if that is the case, luckily, there is a cure for that, and that is to get you pregnant, and I shall do just that, simultaneously fulfilling the duties as your husband.” He leans down and caresses your cheek. Your eyes widen when you catch his expression in the illuminating moonlight. He was smiling, yet the smile did not reach his eyes, Your stomach began to churn as goosebumps arose on your skin, he doesn't seem like the man you married anymore.
Before you could make an escape, Aemond pounces you and pushes you down onto the bed, you thrash in his hold trying to push him off but he holds your hands together and pins them up before grabbing your cheeks harshly and spitting on your face, “Behave, I'm treating you.” You began to tremble knowing he had gone completely mad.
“Let go of me! Aemond!” You scream and he pushes his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up.” He tells you before grabbing your dress and tearing it off your body, the bodice coming along with it, causing your tits to spill out. He gropes and squeezes them, “I wonder how nice they'd look when they swell with milk hm?” He coos, before descending his lips onto your nipple, you use your now free hands to push him away but he doesn't budge, you try to pull him by his hair but he bites harshly onto your nipple causing you to let go of his hair in pain, he pulls away and looks at you angrily.
“Behave.” He says sternly and you flinch, never having heard Aemond use that specific tone before, it was extremely scary. “Aemond, please.” You plead him but he doesn't care, simply ripping off the remains and pushing you up the bed and prying your legs open. “You'd look so beautiful, all round with my child in your belly, I pray to the mother to bless us with a child.” He undos his breeches and your eyes widen in horror, knowing what is about to come.
You watched in silence as he lined himself against your entrance, prodding the tip at the very beginning of your hole and began to push inside, you shut your eyes tightly and clenched the sheets below you, a pained cry leaving your mouth at the stretch of your cunt by his cock, unprepared.
He soon fully sheathed himself inside you, and wastes no time before beginning to thrust, whines and gasps leave your mouth at his actions, you grip onto his shoulders as he jerks you up and down, you felt ashamed when it started to begin to feel good, your body in dilemma where you push him or pull him closer.
However that sense of choice is taken away from you when he grabs your hands and pins them above you, all while pistoning his hips into yours, “Seven above, I pray that the mother blesses my dear wife with a child in her womb so she may be cured of her sinfulness, I pray that the maiden guides her into realising how she should truly perform her duty as a woman, and may the crone remove useless thoughts and guide her to the correct path.” He prays closing his eyes and your eyes widen in pure shock, shocked by the fact on how he can pray in a situation like this?
His thrusts feel so sinful, and you're convinced you've lost your mind because of the fact that you are getting pleasure from this, his lips find yours in a passionate kiss as he ends the prayer, kissing your forehead afterwards and pulls back, “You'll make a good mother, I'm sure of it.” He coos in your ear before pressing a kiss to it as well.
You soon began to recognize the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your abdomen, the telltale sign that your peak was nearing, Aemond's hand groped your tits, pinching your nipples and rubbing his thumb over them, providing you with additional pleasure, and before you know it, you are toppling over the edge as your peak hits you, arching your back and moaning out his name loudly.
He too finishes inside you, filling your hole with his seed, before pulling out, his face hovers over your stomach and you watch as he presses a kiss on the location of where your womb would be located, “May the mother bless us.” He mutters.
You thought that would be the end, yet you were wrong, you gasp when you feel his finger scooping up his seed which leaked out and push it back into you, essentially beginning to finger you, he takes you by surprise again when you feel his warm tongue on your clit, causing your hands to fly out and grip his hair as you breathed heavily.
His tongue and finger worked simultaneously, introducing you to a sensation of a new type of overstimulation, making you peak once again.
Time blurred together and yet Aemond did not stop, you've lost count of how many times he made you peak and how many times he finished inside you, but at the end of it, you surely felt full and fucked out, your mind filled with nothing but the thought of having his children, which he kept muttering over and over again, causing you to pick up on it.
“You'll be a great mother.” He pulls you into his arms as scoot closer, burying your face in his chest, “Yes, Husband, I'll give you as many children you want.” You mutter before finally drifting off to sleep.
Aemond smirks, knowing that he has now achieved his goal, now he can slowly start shifting you into the type of wife he wanted in the first place.
It was no surprise when you found out that you were pregnant with a child, only for you to give birth to triplets.
“A blessing from the mother.” Alicent beamed, yet that sentence only made you flinch.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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healmyhrt · 9 months ago
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could you make a head cannons of dating Chris sturniolo or something I love you work ❤️
tysm for the compliment, means a lot! <3 (also i could not come up with SHITTTTT, so enjoy what’s here ig 😭)
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⌗ how i think it would be dating chris sturniolo.
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going on dates — chris would claim he hates all that lovey dovey shit, but plan the most elaborate, and romantic date he could possibly plan. he would dedicate the whole night to you & things you love.
sidewalk rule — chris always follows the sidewalk rule. walking by himself, he’s a bit careless, for sure. but walking with you, he keeps you on the inside, looks both ways, and interlocks your fingers as you walk.
gift giving — no matter the occasion or budget, he will either go all out— or get his hands dirty and cook up the best homemade gift he knows you’ll love.
facetiming — chris is a HUGEEE facetimer. texting? he’s never heard of it.
playlist sharing — it was always his idea (ofc) to share playlists. and while chris’s music taste is amazing, he does tend to add quite random songs to the playlist…
pillow talk — chris can rarely get enough sleep, so he’s almost always up all night, talking to you. planning future dates, talking about wedding themes, kid names, and growing old together. he is quite the romantic.
jealousy — he is definitely the type to get jealous, but he knows that you love him more than anyone else could, so it gives him some comfort. (although he hates when you talk to anyone other than him.)
playing games — chris almost (key word “almost”) always lets you win when you play games together. except imessage games. chris takes first place.
privacy — you both like to keep your relationship offline, an while most fans respect your boundaries, others tend to infiltrate your privacy. anytime you’re recognized in public, chris always tries his best to comfort you, and get you out of the situation.
late night munchies — now, chris can’t drive as we well know, but he’ll doordash, uber eats, etc, whatever you please if you’re hungry late at night.
movie night — after many arguments of what movies to watch, chris always suggests spongebob, and you always end up watching it.
matching fits — chris is all about matching fits with you, as long as you somewhat include his brand, fresh love.
matching nails — although he isn’t big on lots of designs on his nails, he’ll get whatever you tell him to get when you want your nails to match.
letting you do his makeup — everytime you finish your makeup, chris always asks, “can you do mine?”, and he always feels like a pretty princess after and takes HUNDREDS of pictures.
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whateveriwant · 1 year ago
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Dressing the 141 up in a couples Halloween costume
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Price
Is initially pretty lukewarm to the idea because he thinks he's too old to dress up for Halloween :(((
But with just the right amount of convincing + puppy dog eyes from you, he'll eventually go along with it
However, he's adamant that he's not going to shave. So you either have to give him a bearded character or resign yourself to seeing a mustachioed fairy
In the end, you think he makes quite a dashing Captain Hook (move over Jason Isaacs, there's a new captain in town)
If it's a party you're dressing up for, he'll go and have a great time (i.e. get absolutely sloshed and terrorize people with the fake hook)
Gaz
Is suuuuuuper into Halloween because it's his favorite holiday
He goes all out every year. Like, all out. Like, we're talking planning 6+ months in advance levels of obsession
In fact, you're not even the one who brings up the idea of doing a couples costume. He does, and he already has a theme in mind: Star Wars
He has a hyper-detailed Han Solo costume ready to go, complete with the blaster and boots and everything (yes, he made it himself, and yes, he's very proud of it)
You'll end up being 45 minutes late to the party because he won't stop taking pictures of you two posing in your outfits
Soap
Isn't opposed to the idea of dressing up, but there's a slight problem… He's already promised someone else that he'll match with them
You're like ??? when he tells you that, but end up chuckling once you learn who said person is: his four year old niece
He's the gallant knight to her glittery princess, and he's planning on taking his role very seriously
But he'll feel bad for leaving you hanging, so he'll run to the store and buy a pair of wings and a tail so you can tag along as a dragon or smth
You'll end up skipping the party so you can go trick-or-treating with them, and have much more fun that way anyway
Ghost
Is by far the least on board with the idea
He vehemently wants nothing to do with it – the party, the dressing up, nada
It'll take so much begging and bartering on your part to get him to finally cave in (the specifics of what you offer him, I'll leave up to your imagination ;))
No matter what costume you choose for him, he's gonna be snarky about it
"How the hell 'm I supposed to see with this bloody triangle on my head?" "It's a pyramid, Si." "Tha's what I said."
He'll stay at the party until he thinks you're satisfied with his attendance, and then he's Irish goodbye-ing it out of there without a second thought
Bonus - Full squad costume
If you're somehow able to convince the whole squad to dress up together, there's only one theme I see them doing: the Hundred Acre Woods
Price would be Kanga because there's no one else that accurately emits that fatherly motherly aura
Gaz would joke that he's going as Roo to accompany Price, but will change it last second and show up as Piglet
Soap would bounce on Tigger before anyone else could claim him (he's sooo Tigger-coded, I can't explain, he just is)
And lastly, for Ghost, I can think of no better fit than the king of brooding himself: Eeyore <3
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hnslchw · 1 month ago
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if she wasn't your last - LN4 X Reader
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Summary: You haven't felt this uncertain before. Now that doubts about Lando's lingering feelings for his ex have surfaced, you're struggling to move past them. As your insecurities grow, you're finding it harder to trust him, wondering if you'll ever truly have his heart.
Based on "Did you like her in the morning?" by NIKI. (highly recommended to play this while reading)
Warnings/Themes: heavy angst and overthinking insecurities (please let me know if I missed anything)
Word count: 1.2k
Author's note: hello everyone!! This would be my very first story im ever posting on tumblr, pls be kind. For the longest time l've just been appreciating everyone's stories. I hope you guys enjoy (pls tell me if there's anything I should change or look into tumblr settings wise). English isn't my first language and im a tad bit dyslexic please bear with me if there are any errors HAHAH but please comment what you think. Thank you <3
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It was never hard loving Lando. It was a whirlwind, an intoxicating rush of emotions you never thought you'd experience. Someone like him, bright and vibrant, taking a chance on someone like you—a girl who had never been in a proper relationship before. It felt surreal, perfect, at least in the beginning.
His past relationships were never something you dwelled on. Everyone has a past, you told yourself. You were confident, secure. Or so you thought. But that was before you both went public with your relationship, before the internet got involved, before every picture of you two sparked comparisons you hadn’t asked for. His ex-girlfriend, the one everyone seemed to prefer, loomed like a shadow over everything.
Suddenly, you were scrolling through endless posts dissecting every detail—her smile, her style, the effortless way she seemed to fit into Lando’s world. You, by comparison, felt like an outsider.
You tried to brush it off at first, laughing along with Lando when he made jokes about the craziness of social media. But when you opened your phone, those comparisons started to chip away at you. Even worse, there were moments with Lando that made it impossible to ignore. Like now.
He was rifling through his drawers, his movements frantic, eyes wild with panic.
“Where is it?” he muttered, slamming another drawer shut before turning to you. “Have you seen it? My bangle, the silver one?”
You felt your stomach drop at the mention of the bangle. The one his ex-girlfriend gave him. He never talked about her, but you always noticed how careful he was with that piece of jewelry, how he wore it every day, like it was some kind of talisman. The fact that it wasn’t on his wrist now sent him into a frenzy.
“No, I haven’t seen it,” you said softly, watching him tear through his things.
“Damn it,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I lost it.”
“Lando…” You hesitated, unsure if you should even say anything, but the words slipped out anyway. “Why does it matter so much? It’s just a bracelet.”
He stopped, looking at you like you’d just said something offensive. “It’s not just a bracelet,” he snapped. “I’ve had it for years.”
You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know, but…it was from her, wasn’t it?”
He froze, the question hanging in the air between you. His expression softened, and he sighed, but he didn’t deny it. “Yeah, but that’s not the point. It’s… it’s sentimental, you know?”
You nodded, even though you didn’t quite understand. It was hard not to feel like you were competing with someone who wasn’t even here anymore, someone who left behind pieces of herself in Lando’s life that you couldn’t match.
“I get that,” you said quietly, “but sometimes… I feel like she’s still here. Like you’re still holding on to her.”
Lando blinked, his panic slowly giving way to confusion. “That’s not true. You know I’m with you.”
“I do,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But when you act like this—freaking out over something she gave you—it makes me wonder if part of you still wishes she was here.”
His gaze softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. It’s not about her, I swear. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to believe him. But deep down, the doubt was still there, lingering, just like the bangle that had somehow become a symbol of everything you weren’t sure you could compete with.
That night, after everything settled down and the search for the bangle was abandoned, you lay next to Lando in bed. The room was dark, filled only with the soft hum of the city outside and the faint sound of his breathing. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer in his sleep. It was a familiar gesture, one that should’ve comforted you, but instead, your thoughts were miles away.
Did his hand find her waist like this?
The thought crawled into your mind, uninvited but persistent. You could almost see it—her leaning against him, laughing with that carefree confidence everyone loved, while he pulled her close, their night buzzing with that electric excitement.
Did he kiss her goodnight?
Did he hope the night would never end?
You close your eyes, willing the thoughts to go away, but they don’t. Instead, they morph into another image, one that stings even more.
Did he laugh with her over cold cups of coffee that he hated but still drank anyway?
You’d seen him do it a thousand times with you—pushing a cup of something bitter away with a grimace, teasing you about your questionable taste, but always taking another sip. Was it the same with her? Was she the reason he developed the habit in the first place?
The questions wouldn’t stop. Every memory you shared with him felt tainted now, overshadowed by the possibility that they weren’t really yours at all. Maybe you were just walking through scenes he had already lived, following in someone else’s footsteps, trying to fill a space that was never truly empty.
Beside you, Lando shifted, pulling you even closer in his sleep, but it didn’t feel like enough. You stared at the ceiling, blinking back the burning sensation in your eyes. You wanted to wake him up, to ask him Did you laugh with her like that? Did you hold her like this? Did you want her more than you want me?
But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed silent, letting the questions twist and tangle inside you like a knot you couldn't unravel, the truth too painful to confront. You turned to look at him, his features peaceful in sleep, and wondered if you’d ever know the answers to those questions or if they would haunt you forever.
In the early morning light, his fingers traced lazy circles on your skin, but his eyes seemed distant, lost in a memory that didn’t belong to you. Did he like her in the mornings too? Was his smile brighter then? Did he hold her closer?
The quiet moments between you were filled with unspoken questions, the weight of his past love pressing between every breath. He said your name softly, but it didn’t feel like enough to anchor him here, with you. You're falling, but you wonder—has he ever truly caught you? Or is his heart still wrapped in the warmth of a love that wasn’t yours?
You want to ask him. The question sits on the tip of your tongue, Are you still in love with her? But you don't. You stay silent, afraid that by giving voice to your insecurities, you'll make them real. You cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you're overthinking it, that it's all in your head. After all, he’s with you now, right? That should be enough.
But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you're sharing him with a memory, a past that he hasn’t fully let go of. And it's hard to compete with a memory. So, you keep your doubts hidden, tucked away in the corners of your mind, even as they threaten to pull you under.
Because in the end, you're afraid of the truth: that he loved her in the mornings, just like this. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him still does.
"I know it would be easier if I just didn't ask, but it'd also be easier if she wasn't your last"
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goddessofvalyria · 3 months ago
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CARELESS WHISPER | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Summary: Just love between Aemond Targaryen and his girl.
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TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, sexual themes, oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, sexual tension, sex. This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, he calls her "good girl" and "princess."
English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3
Words: 2650
Aemond Targaryen stands in the dimly lit living room of his upscale apartment, the soft glow of the city lights streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows on the polished wooden floor. The faint, haunting melody of "Careless Whisper" by George Michael plays in the background, the saxophone riff filling the room with a melancholic, sensual rhythm that matches the pounding of his heart.
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto her. She stands by the window, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape, her silhouette illuminated by the city lights. There’s a wistful look on her face, one that tugs at something deep within him. His "good girl," his "princess" she’s been everything to him—his sanctuary, his weakness, his addiction.
He crosses the room in a few strides, his bare feet silent against the cool floor. As he gets closer, she turns, sensing his presence. Her eyes meet his, and there’s a flicker of something—anticipation, desire, maybe even love. He can’t quite tell, but it doesn’t matter. He’s lost in her, in the way she looks at him as if he’s the only thing that matters in this vast, chaotic world.
“Come here” he murmurs softly, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine.
She moves towards him, her steps slow, deliberate, almost hesitant. There’s a tension in the air, a charged current that seems to draw them together like magnets. When she reaches him, he slips his hands around her waist, pulling her close until there’s no space left between them.
“My good girl” he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She shivers again, a soft gasp escaping her lips, and he feels a surge of satisfaction. He loves the way she reacts to his touch, the way she melts against him, her body molding perfectly to his.
His fingers trail up her back, finding the zipper of her black dress and slowly tugging it down. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a lace bra and panties. She looks up at him, her eyes wide, vulnerable, but there’s a spark there too—a spark of daring, of want.
Aemond cups her face, his thumb brushing across her cheek. “You’re so beautiful” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “So perfect.”
She blushes at his words, a soft pink tinting her cheeks, and he can’t help but smile. He leans down, capturing her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. She responds immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It’s a slow burn, a build-up of tension that’s been simmering between them all night.
As the song plays on, Aemond moves them towards the couch, his hands never leaving her body. They sink down onto the cushions, their bodies entwined, the kiss growing more urgent, more needy. He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper.
She nods, her eyes locked on his. “Yes, my love” she breathes. “Always.”
Aemond smiles, his heart swelling at her words. He leans in, capturing her lips in another kiss, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her. She arches into him, a soft moan escaping her lips, and he feels a rush of desire, of possessiveness. She’s his, all his, and he’s not going to let her go.
He pulls back again, his eyes dark with desire. “Turn around, princess” he commands softly, his voice low, authoritative.
She does as he asks, turning so her back is pressed against his chest, her body fitting perfectly against his. He wraps his arms around her, his hands sliding down her stomach, his lips brushing against her neck.
“You’re such a good girl for me” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “My good girl.”
She shivers at his words, her breath hitching in her throat. He smiles against her skin, his hands continuing their slow, deliberate exploration of her body, his touch light, teasing.
“Aemond…” she whispers, her voice breathy, filled with need.
He smirks, his lips brushing against her ear. “What do you want, princess?” he asks, his voice a low purr.
“You” she breathes. “I want you.”
He chuckles softly, his hands sliding down to the waistband of her panties, his fingers hooking into the lace. “Then you’ll have me” he murmurs, his voice filled with promise. “All of me.”
He pulls her lace bra and panties down, his hands moving with a slow, deliberate sensuality that makes her gasp. He turns her to face him, his eyes locking onto hers as he lifts her up, his strength evident in the ease with which he handles her. He places her gently on his lap, her legs straddling his waist, his hands gripping her hips.
He leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, almost reverent kiss. “I love you” he whispers, the words slipping out before he can stop them.
She freezes for a moment, her eyes widening in surprise. But then she smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “I love you too” she whispers back, her voice filled with emotion.
Aemond feels a surge of relief, of happiness, and he pulls her closer, kissing her deeply, passionately. They lose themselves in each other, in the feel of their bodies pressed together, in the rhythm of the music playing softly in the background.
“You’re mine” he whispers, his voice filled with a possessive intensity. “And I’m yours. Always.”
She nods, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “Always” she whispers back, her voice filled with love, with promise.
Aemond smiles, pulling her into another deep, passionate kiss, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
He caresses her naked body, feels shivers. His large and warm hands, his long fingers make her feel everything: love, excitement, security. "What do you want, princess?" he murmurs making her lie down on the leather sofa. She pants against his lips, Aemond presses his forehead against hers. "So beautiful" Feeling her writhing under his touch, he kisses her neck and makes her let out a low moan, a little shiver that runs along his spine. His hands go down from her neck to her swollen breasts, taking them in his hands and torturing her sensitive nipples. Aemond loves those evenings so quiet and filled only with their love, both away from work, just the two of them.
"Aemond" her name comes from his lips like a prayer. He feels her relax, melt, his hands grabbed her legs opening them. Aemond immediately notices how wet she is, he sees her pussy shiny and wet with her juices, he caresses her skin so smooth and inviting, his hand disappears between her legs and a particularly loud moan fills the room. Two fingers slide inside her that her back, she maintains eye contact with her boyfriend. His princess pants and moves to meet the fingers, the gentle but insistent touch of Aemond never slows down and with the other hand he holds her still on the hips. She was so beautiful, wet and excited just for him.
"Oh Aemond!" she whispers, arching her back, her body shaking from the thrusts of his long fingers that alternate between pushing inside her and rotating circles on her clit, out of breath she begs him. She is about to break under him, but Aemond pulls his fingers from her, a gasp of disapproval leaves her lips, but he has other plans for his good girl.
He lies between her legs, kisses her inner thigh and soon his long tongue is between her thighs before sliding along her opening and licking her. She pants, writhing and enjoying her boyfriend's mouth on her. She didn't care about modesty, she just wanted to sin as much as I would allow her. "My good girl" Aemond whispers, before continuing to lick her. He goes much deeper, the moans of pure pleasure escape her lips at the feeling of his mouth on her, the act so absolutely sinful and debauched. She finds the strength to raise herself on her elbows, to look at her lover with her lips shiny and swollen. Aemond loved giving her pleasure, he loved seeing her so sensitive and submissive to him and to the pleasure that only he could give her. slowly with his tongue he fucks her, her legs tighten around his face and he is so happy to suffocate between those thighs. He feels her wet, aroused, her clit throbs from how sensitive it is. He feels her, she is about to come and he lets her come on his tongue, tasting his sweet princess.
She is shaken by the orgasm, the sofa beneath her is wet as are her thighs. "We are not finished, princess" Aemond murmurs, pulling away from her, still deeply excited and shaken by the orgasm. Her thighs rub against each other to ease the pain, her fingers grab him by the end of the black pants she is wearing. Aemond looked at her naked body as if he were admiring a god, his purple eyes shining hungry: she naked, hair loose, excited, wet just for him with her billion-dollar necklace hanging around her neck. "You are so perfect I can hardly believe you are mine" he leans over her to kiss her, she can feel herself on his lips. "Let's make love" she whispers clinging to his neck".
Aemond's lips trail slowly down her neck, the heat between them building to a fever pitch. Their bodies move in sync, every touch, every kiss deepening the connection that pulses like a live wire between them. He whispers sweet words against her skin—his "Good girl," his "princess"—and each endearment sends a shiver through her, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She arches into him, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he groans, the sound low and deep in his throat.
He shifts, lifting her effortlessly, and carries her to the bed. The city lights filter through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across their intertwined forms. Aemond lowers her gently onto the silk sheets, his eyes never leaving hers. He pauses for a moment, just taking her in—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. She’s beautiful, breathtaking, and all his.
He leans down, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hands exploring every curve, every inch of her. She moans softly, her body responding to his touch, her hips moving instinctively against him. He withdraws, just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire, but also with something sweeter, something deeper. She undresses him from his shirt, he removes his pants and boxers in one motion. He unwraps his silvery hair, she strokes it. Her princess loves her boyfriend and his body so much: Aemond is tall, a toned body and dry, defined muscles, veiny hands, long, veiny arms, the v-line marking his hips and closing in on a long, veiny, hard, pre-cum shiny-tipped cock. “Take me like this, take me raw” she whispers. “Skin on skin, I want to feel you.”
Aemon leans back again, his kisses deep and consuming, his hands gentle but firm as he moves on her, their bodies become one. The outside world fades away and all that exists is this moment, this connection between them.
The music from earlier is a faint echo in the background, the haunting melody of the saxophone weaves around them like a spell, binding them together. She is warm, wet, tight. Aemond kisses her, she adds her tongue to it. “I love you,” he whispers as he begins to move slowly inside her, unable to hold back her little moans. He lifts up a little and she sees his warm gaze travel over her body, watching her lips parting, her breasts moving with each thrust he gives, watching even the spot where they are joined.
She responds with a breathless moan, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. They move together, faster now, the intensity building, the air between them charged with electricity.
Aemond groans deeply his hips suddenly collide harder against hers. It is too beautiful, too heavenly. The sound of their skins rubbing and filling the room, along with our moans and the music in the background is pure heaven. Her red nails scratch all over his back making him moan, he bites her lips his forehead glued to his good girl's and her long hair frames his face.
Their lovemaking is slow and passionate, a dance of tenderness and urgency. Aemond's touches are both reverent and demanding, his body moving with hers in a rhythm that seems both new and ancient. She whispers his name, a breathy whisper that pushes him closer to the edge. He murmurs words of love, of adoration, his voice a low growl against her ear.
“A good girl,” he whispers, her breath warm against his skin. “My princess. All mine.”
Aemond feels her: her pussy tightens around his cock. “Shh” he hisses, "Come for me, cum around me"she moans in his ear and he gives her a few thrusts as she comes around him, Aemond kisses her coming inside her.
“I love you, I love you, I love you"
Their release, is a gasp of shared pleasure that echoes in the silent room, their bodies shaking in unison.
"I love you, my love" she smiles.
Afterward, they lie together in a tangled mess of limbs, their breaths coming in slow, steady waves as they come down from the high. Aemond pulls her close, his arm wrapping around her waist, holding her against him. She rests her head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.
For a while, neither of them speaks, content to just be in this moment, to savor the warmth of each other’s bodies. The room is filled with a soft, comforting silence, the kind that speaks volumes without a single word.
Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice a soft murmur against her hair. “You’re everything to me” he says, his fingers gently brushing her back. “I hope you know that.”
She looks up at him, her eyes filled with emotion, and nods. “I do” she whispers, her voice soft but firm. “And you’re everything to me too, Aemond.”
He smiles, a rare, genuine smile that lights up his face. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of her, the scent of her.
They lie there, wrapped up in each other, the city outside moving on, but for them, time seems to stand still. She nestles closer to him, her eyes drifting shut, feeling safe, content, loved.
Aemond watches her, his heart swelling with an emotion he can’t quite name. He’s never felt this way before, never felt so connected to another person, so complete. He knows he’d do anything for her, anything to keep her by his side, to protect her, to love her.
“Sleep, my princess” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She smiles softly, her eyes fluttering closed, and she falls asleep in his arms, a soft, peaceful expression on her face. Aemond holds her close, his own eyes growing heavy, and for the first time in a long time, he feels truly at peace.
As he drifts off to sleep, the last notes of "Careless Whisper" fade into the night, the melody a lingering echo in the air, a perfect soundtrack to the quiet, beautiful moment they’ve just shared.
They love each other so much.
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greenfiend · 5 months ago
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Will already has powers…
And I think I figured out exactly what they are.
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This is a long theory post. Get some popcorn, get comfortable and be prepared to have some common fandom perspectives get flipped upside down. Nothing is as it seems.
(Trigger warning for some serious subject matters such as: homophobia, SI, m*rder, and CSA.)
Before we begin, let me remind you of what’s seen behind our boy in the photo above.
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This post will, indeed, open that curtain. As Murray states, revealing what’s behind the curtain will cause some to feel unease. The unease may be caused by distaste of the theory overall or discomfort of the serious subject matters. So proceed with caution…
To begin, who is Will Byers?
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A young boy who doesn’t fit in with the 1980s norms. A boy who escapes through fantasy.
In fantasy he’s a wizard… a cleric…
Outside of fantasy he’s an artist… a creator…
He’s a boy who’s different. He stands out from the rest, yet he manages to remain hidden for the most part. He’s “good at hiding”.
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He is a part of a small loving family of three. His mother Joyce and his older brother Jonathan. His biological dad is estranged (more on him later).
Will has a few friends when we begin the show: Lucas, Dustin, and Mike. Mike and Will have a bond that’s different from the others (more on them later).
Will is a young boy who has experienced a lot of trauma, from bullying peers and an abusive parent to being victimized by supernatural forces. There’s a lot going on for him both internally and externally. These also happen to correlate with each other quite frequently. Suspiciously frequently in fact. Which leads me to this conclusion:
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Will’s powers involve shaping the world around him based on his warped views of himself, his sexuality, and his mental health. He’s literally “reshaping the [external] world” to match his internal world; “remake it however [he] sees fit.”
Wow okay slow down there, you may be thinking. You’re really saying he has God like abilities? Well, sort of- but he lacks the insight or control over his own abilities at this point. Just bare with me here and keep an open mind as things will get stranger…
Moving away from the deeper aspects of his character, let’s look at something superficial: his name.
William “Will” Byers
The name William means “Determined” or “Resolute Protector” or “Strong Helmet”. Okay.
Byers means someone who lives by a cattle-shed. Hm. Okay.
But wait… let’s go back. What does the name “Will” mean?
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Well… there’s multiple meanings but let’s focus on the highlighted one.
“Mental powers” you say? A name that literally means the ability to make others do things or make things occur? To bend things to one’s will…
When did he get these powers?
I’m not confident in the answer to this but I think he may have always had the powers. Just like his sexuality, he was born this way.
It’s very likely that he was specifically targeted back in the first episode because of this, then was possessed afterwards for the same reason.
I mean… for a villain who wants to “reshape the world”- why wouldn’t he want the powers of a boy with this ability?
As I believe his powers are intertwined with his sexuality, they began manifesting much more once puberty hit. Will likely has used his powers in seasons 1 and 2 but very subtly. In season 3, they become more obvious but still in the shadows (and unbeknownst to him…he suppresses it). They emerge in correlation with his blooming sexuality.
Season 3 is associated with possession, and the concept of free will is a frequent theme. The characters discuss how to look out for people acting out of the ordinary, out of character if you will. Any characters that come to mind?
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Hopper was noticeably different this season. Coincidentally, the same season Will desperately held onto his childhood innocence, Hopper acted suspiciously immature.
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Will wants El and Mike to break up. Hopper wants El and Mike to break up.
Mike explains to Lucas that Hopper “threatened” him while we immediately cut to Will. What’s Will doing here? He is moving DnD characters on a board. He is manipulating the characters here… playing dollhouse… being a puppet master. This little guy was so jealous of Mike and El that he influenced Hopper to try and break them up!
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We are shown other little incidences of Hopper acting Will-like too. He suddenly buys a shirt that’s different than his usual wardrobe- “that’s a lot of color chef”. Will is known for wearing colourful clothes, that’s highlighted as a reason he is seen as “different” and is bullied for it. Hopper has trouble pronouncing an alcoholic beverage, saying “cheeanti” when he is well acquainted with alcohol. While Will is dressed up as Will the Wise, Lucas asks Will for permission to shower- then we cut to Hopper showering. Hopper acts very immature in his jealousy, just as Will does. Both Hopper and Will have big fights with Joyce and Mike in episode 3 of season 3. When El asks “how do we know when someone’s a host?” the scene immediately ends and we are shown Hopper. Will is using Hopper as a host! There’s even more evidence than this but we shall move on from here.
So wait, Will possessed Hopper? Well, not exactly. Hopper was under the influence of Will. Remember what Will said about the mindflayer: “He likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me.”
There was another character acting out of the ordinary this season…
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That’s right! Mike.
I’ll come back to him more later but in the meantime, let me offer you this theory:
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The rain scene. Now what if I said that Will was the one projecting onto Mike? What I mean is: Will’s internal thoughts “it’s not his fault I don’t like girls!” becoming a reality. Mike never meant to say this- it was all Will’s doing. His internalized homophobia became externalized. It’s oddly fitting too that in the episode with Will’s emotional breakdown, it’s raining.
The devastating depth of Will’s trauma
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Within the show, we know our boy has experienced a lot of suffering, but subtext tells us it’s much worse than we see on the surface.
Will’s father is a homophobic and abusive asshole yes, but he’s more than that.
There’s an alarming amount of evidence that this man was not only emotionally and physically abusive but also sexually abusive to both Will and his older brother.
He likely was especially homophobic towards Will because he projected his actual perverse sexuality unto him. He likely dealt with his shame by blaming his innocent young son.
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This leads us to: November 6th, 1983. Originally, I do believe that Will died by the hands of his own cruel father. His father likely picked him up from his bike ride home (his bike left behind), ended his life by strangulation, put him in the back of his trunk, and dumped him into Sattlers Quarry (where his fake body was found).
I believe somehow someone was able to reverse this (more on this later). The clock turned back and a new timeline was created. Will was then abducted and brought to the upside down. Instead of heaven or hell, he was in purgatory. Time came to an abrupt halt in the upside down… the exact same time his life ended in the original timeline. This is where timelines diverge.
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Now Will’s purgatory is also his internal world, his own mind. The upside down manifests itself as this. It’s dark, cold, scary, lonely, and unsettling. He’s trapped in his own head, where he relives some of his most traumatic memories. We see him being victimized by the Demogorgon (an alternate title for Demogorgon is “The Deep Father” x ) and we also see him being assaulted (in a sexual manner) by vines.
By the time Will is rescued, he is struggling with suicidal thoughts (the song “When It’s Cold I’d Like to Die” tells us this). Poor boy has been in a deep dark depressive state. In season 2, his possession is a real manifestation of his PTSD.
The monsters represent how he views himself- he’s a monster. I’d argue his internalized homophobia is a lot worse than we actually think. It’s not just the homophobic environment around him, it’s also the ongoing rhetoric that the victim will inevitably become a perpetrator. As we see the common occurrence of toxic cycles continuing: he fears he has no agency and will become his own father.
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Jonathan can relate, but because he’s solely attracted to women and thus more “normal”, it’s not as bad for him. But Steve really pushed his buttons when he implied that Jonathan is a creep like his father.
So yes, Will sees himself as a monster because of his attraction to men. Thus, he manifests the monsters in the monster show.
Speaking of his attraction to men…
Mike
Will loves Mike, he’s hopelessly devoted to him. Mike feels the exact same way. In the original timeline, Mike ultimately decides to jump into Sattlers Quarry to reunite with his love in death.
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Will “jumps”, Mike jumps too. Luckily, a new timeline was created, giving both of them a second chance at life and love.
In the alternate timeline (the show), season 1 sees Mike leave no stones unturned in his search for his best friend. In season 2, we see how Mike normally is with Will. He’s so devoted! He’s always by Will’s side throughout everything. It’s beautiful! This is the authentic Mike.
So. What happened in season 3? Mike’s internalized homophobia?
Well partially I’m sure, but in this post I’m offering an alternate theory: Mike’s behavior is explained by Will’s internalized homophobia.
What do I mean by this?
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Well as I said, Will reshapes the external world in the image of his internal world. He doesn’t believe he deserves Mike’s love. He’s scared. He’s been “inventing things” so he can push Mike away.
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He obviously wants nothing more than to be with Mike, but due to his insecure attachment style and his internalized homophobia, he’s been the one pushing him away this entire time with his powers.
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How has he been pushing Mike away exactly?
He’s been pushing Mike towards El.
Wait, didn’t he help break them up through Hopper?
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Well, yes, but the sweet sensitive boy that he is likely felt bad, he regretted his actions after their rain fight fallout and wanted to give his “olive branch” and make amends.
Will believes the best way to do so is to push Mike and El back together. Like Lucas, Will gives Mike guidance by, essentially, being the master to his puppet.
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(Above is actually Will’s apology to Mike.)
In Will’s mind, Mike is straight. He would never reciprocate Will’s feelings. So, Will believes that Mike should be happy with El then.
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Will literally is putting words in Mike’s mouth here. Look how focused Will is in this scene, and how often Mike turns to him. It’s as though Will is mouthing to Mike exactly what words he (thinks) he should say.
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Here Will is at it again! But Mike is resisting. The words aren’t able to come out. Will’s signal is poor, Mike couldn’t fully understand him.
So Will, as misguided but well intended as he is, attempts to bring Mike and El back together.
No wonder Mike couldn’t exactly remember his words…
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He’s genuinely confused here!
This leads me to…
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This foreshadowing shot tells us that Will is the director here. He fed Mike the script he had to read. So yes, I’m saying that Will did not just push Mike to say those words to El, he forced him to. Mike did not have any agency here.
Now, like me, you may be concerned about this. Will is bending Mike to his will? Won’t the audience then assume Will forced Mike to be gay with him? Pushing that toxic homophobic narrative?
Well that’s the thing- Will is not forcing a straight man to be gay. Will is trying to make a gay man straight! Ahhh trope subversion.
El
So I’m not going to delve too much into El in this post, because El and Will deserve their own post. But I do strongly believe they are much more connected than we think.
Vecna
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Where does Vecna fit into this theory? Well for starters, I don’t believe Vecna himself is Will, he is definitely a separate entity. The major difference between Will and Vecna is that Will will no longer be restrained by his shadow, he will be able to differentiate himself from his shadow. Vecna has chosen to become one with the shadow.
Also, like Mike, Vecna is heavily associated with time. Vecna takes time away from others but Mike gives time. I do agree with the Wheeler and Creel being connected theories.
Time
Time is a major theme within the show. As I mentioned previously, Will possesses powers where he can manipulate his environment, his space. Will is space, but he is lacking the 4th dimension.
The upside down is frozen in time, essentially lacking time. It needs time, and it always will! That’s right- Mike is time.
That boy is frequently associated with it. Running late at the beginning of each season, mentions of “turning back the clock”, etc.
Mike “turned back the clock” and saved Will from his original fate. Similar to the scene where Mike jumps off the cliff and is saved by El, Mike reverses his fall by rewinding time. He went all the way back to the night of November 6th, 1983. Preventing the original timeline from occurring.
Mike gave Will the greatest gift of all- time.
Remember time heals all wounds. Wounds being the gates.
Together, Mike and Will are spacetime. Which is beautiful because not only does this mean they are equals in every way but they can literally create their own fantasy world together.
Conclusion
This show has a lot of layers. I tried to really dig deep but still I feel like I just scratched the surface. I will say this though: I am utterly confident that everything leads back to Will. He is the center of the entire show, like it or not. Without Will, there is no Stranger Things. Now of course this is not “the Byler show” but their relationship is incredibly important. Mike’s unconditional love and devotion to Will is a key aspect of the solution to the conflict. He makes Will “feel better for being different”. His love, along with his other friends and family, will inevitably lead to the upside down (Will’s mind) becoming a beautiful place. Instead of rot and decay, there will be blooming flowers and sunlight.
If you’d like to discuss any aspect of these theories with me, feel free! Like I said, I’m only scratching the surface here. Let me know your thoughts.
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lxndonorris · 4 months ago
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heated challenge - Carlos Alcaraz
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Y/N x Carlos Alcaraz Theme: Smutish, teasing, touching you're playing against Carlos in a friendly sparring match, which get heated fast x word count: 1290+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests (F1, Motogp, tennis, football etc)
The sun shines brightly overhead as you and Carlos walk onto the pitch of the private sports club. The court is pristine, the lines freshly painted, and the net taut. 
You look down at yourself, feeling both excitement and a hint of anxiety. You are wearing Carlos' spare tennis gear—a white top and a pair of shorts that fit surprisingly well. It's been years since you last played, held a racket, and walked onto the pitch, and while you aren't a professional, you know you are decent. 
Still, the thought of playing against Carlos, a tennis superstar, is both thrilling and intimidating.
Carlos looks incredible in his yellow tank top and black shorts. His clothes accentuate his physique perfectly, each muscle sculpted and defined. 
You swallow hard as your eyes meet, and he gives you a reassuring smile that sends a wave of comfort through you.
"Ready?" He asks, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement.
You nod, a little anxious about embarrassing yourself, but his smile bolsters your confidence.
You take your places on the court, and it is your turn to serve.
You take a deep breath, toss the ball into the air, and strike it with your racket. Not a bad serve, you think, but Carlos manages it effortlessly.
You rally back and forth, and you can tell he is holding back, perhaps subconsciously. It is a sparring match, after all.
As you continue, you begin to get the hang of things again. Your shots become more accurate, your movements more fluid.
Carlos notices and smirks, unconsciously stroking his chest.
"You're doing good," he says before serving the ball again, this time with more power and speed, testing you. 
You manage to return it quite well, causing his smirk to widen.
Still, he wins the set.
The two of you meet at the net, both of you sweating and breathing deeply. You can't help but admire how his muscles flex with every step he takes, and you know, by his eyes roaming all over you, that he feels the same.
"You're really good," he compliments, and you blush.
"I haven't played in years," you admit, your heart racing from the exertion and his proximity.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment. "It doesn't show. You're doing great."
You can tell he is excited, his eyes sparkling with a competitive fire he can't hide.
The next set is even harder.
You manage to score a few points, but Carlos' athleticism and talent are too much for you in the end. He moves with grace and power, that leaves you in awe.
Once the set is done, you walk over to the bench for a drink. Before you can take a sip, Carlos comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. His touch is comforting, and you feel a rush of warmth as his chest presses gently against your back. He hums quietly, the sound vibrating through you and giving you goosebumps.
"You did so good," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
You lean back into him, embracing his body against yours. His hands are firmly on your waist, holding you close—gently but possessively. Turning around to face him, your eyes meet. 
"Thank you," you say, giving the compliment back. "You were amazing out there."
Carlos smirks, his gaze roaming all over you. "It was hard to concentrate," he admits, "because you look so good."
You blush again, feeling the intensity of his eyes on you. Steadying yourself against his firm chest, you feel the heat radiating from his body and the muscles reacting underneath his shirt.
His hands tighten slightly on your waist, and you can sense the desire in his touch. When your eyes meet again, you know he is craving your touch, but you both understand it isn't the place or the time.
"What do you say? One last round?" Carlos teases, one hand on his chest, the other motioning toward the pitch. 
"Sounds good," you agree, but before you can take your place on the court, Carlos takes his shirt off, showing off his toned body.
"I just need some space." He tilts his head playfully as a knowing smile plays on his lips. 
In one swift motion, he strokes his chest and tummy before his hand gently brushes over his shorts, drawing attention to the desire and excitement building up inside him.
For a second, you're unable to take your eyes off him; the display both challenging and tantalizing.
You regain your composure and raise an eyebrow. "Suit yourself," you smirk back at him, and the two of you get back on to the court.
The next set begins with renewed intensity.
Carlos serves first, his powerful shot skimming the net and forcing you to scramble. You return it with a strong backhand, and he nods appreciatively before smashing it back to your side of the court. You lunge, barely managing to return it, and Carlos's grin widens as he volleys it again, this time out of your reach.
He wins the first points easily, but you are determined to make the match competitive. 
You serve next, aiming for the far corner of the service box. Carlos darts to intercept, but your serve catches him off guard, giving you the first point. You feel a surge of confidence as you square off again.
The rallies are longer and more intense this time. Each point is hard-fought, with neither of you willing to give an inch. Your strokes are precise, your movements agile, but Carlos's pure skill is unmatched. He leaps and lunges with a fluidity that takes your breath away, his body a perfect instrument of the sport.
As you continue, the score remains tight. You are tied, and every point feels crucial.
You manage to outmaneuver him with a series of quick volleys, earning a few points in rapid succession. He responds with powerful serves that push you to your limits. The competitive fire in his eyes spurs you on, and you find yourself playing better than ever before.
Carlos serves again, the ball blazing over the net. You return it with a swift forehand, and you rally back and forth, each shot more intense than the last.
Sweat drips down your face, and you can see the same determination in Carlos's eyes. He is pushing you to the edge, and you are rising to the challenge.
Finally, it is match point.
Carlos serves with a power and precision that leave you scrambling. You manage to return the ball, but he is ready, smashing it down the line. You dive for it, your racket connecting just enough to send it back over the net.
Carlos sprints forward, and with a final, powerful stroke, he sends the ball sailing past you.
You collapse onto the ground, trying to catch your breath. Carlos lets out a low grunt of excitement, his face lighting up with a triumphant smile.
Carlos approaches you, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. One hand slides around your waist, pulling you close, while the other holds his rackett firmly.
Without a word, he kisses you passionately, his lips demanding and full of fire. You give in to him, your arms wrapping around his neck, savoring the intensity of the moment. His passion is intoxicating, and you adore every second of it.
You break apart, both of you smiling, the connection between you stronger than ever. 
"That was amazing," you whisper, feeling breathless and exhilarated.
"It was," he agrees. His eyes lock onto yours with a mix of affection and desire. "We should do it again, soon."
You nod, leaning into him, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. 
"Any time," you reply softly.
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angelicgirlmj · 3 months ago
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Hii, do you have any essentials that every girl should have in her closet? Also what kind of shoes should every girl have?
hi angel! what a fun ask, especially because i love fashion and haven’t really done many posts on it quite yet. im planning a longer post themed round almost this exact topic so this will be a shorter list (keep an eye out for a post coming soon - you’ll find it very useful!). but here are some suggestions:
closet staples
plain vests and tshirts, ideally in a basic shade (white, black or grey) for layering!
a little black dress - classic for a reason.
a few comfy cardigans/jumpers, again good for layering but also perfect for winter weather.
good quality denim jeans.
a maxi skirt, a midi skirt and a mini skirt.
black and nude tights.
‘going out’ tops (pretty much any kind of top you’d wear on a nice occasion).
pretty colourful clothes for layering, so good for making an outfit stand out!
some kind of fitted shirt.
denim/fabric shorts.
long sleeved tops.
cute coat.
fun, patterned tops.
staple accessories to match/compliment outfits (jewellery, bags, belts, hair accessories etc).
shoes every girl should have
comfy pair of boots (i love my uggs).
cute trainers!
sandals or flip flops.
some kind of heel, whether it’s a stiletto or wedge.
sporty/active trainers you wouldn’t mind getting dirty.
thank you for reading angel and hope this helps! fashion is so personal and fun, while i consider these staples you have to try new things and find your style to know exactly what is or isn’t a staple for you.
all my love, m.
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nuzzle · 2 months ago
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actually remembered to take a coord pic for once! woohoo rundown + details for what i wore to see my favorite brit band below ✟
headdress, OP, bloomers, UTKs, rose brooch - meta mask, necklace, bracelet, purse - moitie gloves - MARBLE shoes - demonia
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very inspired by late 90s/early 2000s street snaps for this one! i was going for a lacey (mainly raschel :p) kuro rose silvery cross theme with a healthy mix of early 2000s OS meta and quite recent (albeit, mostly rereleases of OS designs) moitie. i didn't get great photos of all the details, but my mask had these metal cross fittings and i attached a rose brooch to my bag to try and match my accessories to pull it all together. i initially planned on wearing these black lace gloves with roses by MARBLE but it ended up being quite hot that day T_T
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the afternoon tea service we attended before the concert kindly gifted us a set of tea infuser spoons, which probably ended up looking a little strange to security just being loose in my purse when i had to go through bag check and the metal detectors lol
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these 3 candid shots taken by my bf! ^^ yay
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I LOVE PULP!!! i am the body hidden in the trunk it's so true
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