#screaming at this why can't i be normal about this game!!!!!!! it's not even that good!!!!!!!!!!
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↳ DRESS TO IMPRESS? ⭑
𝓼ynopsis. in which you convince your boyfriend to play dress to impress with you, will they slay the runway? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, trendy. 𝔀arnings. curse words, not proofread, riki is that annoying player and almost all the members are bad at this game ㅠㅠ, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 1k+ 𝓶asterlist.
♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: oh gosh i had so much fun writing this, especially because i am addicted to this game lol anyway, do you guys have any headcanon request? i am curious...
― 𝓱eeseung: gets upset but doesn't quit playing.
you might be wondering why heeseung changed his mood like that, and that's because placing on the podium in dress to impress is hard ― for him. in the beginning, and sometimes unfair. when you told him you wanted to play with him ― your boyfriend was feeling very happy and giddy, creating his account the same second, not knowing how he would feel a few rounds later...
"BRO?! HOW DID SHE PLACED?!" he screamed after standing up from bed while his hands rested against his head, indignant. "LOOK AT ME, I LOOK MUCH PRETTIER!" and heeseung turned his ipad screen at you after laying back on his stomach on bed. "hee, baby... your skin is literally blue, that's not what coquette means..." you replied. "nonsense, even my fit is better! and you placed second you can't say shit! i am not playing this game anymore." he argued, throwing his ipad away from him. "don't quit, continue playing with me," you pouted, waiting for a new round to start. "i'm sorry, baby, but this game is absolutely dog shi- a new round has begun?" when the sound of a new round starting echoed, his mind seemed to have changed. "... yeah?" "okay, maybe one more round won't hurt..."
― 𝓳ongseong: gets into arguments with 8 year olds.
jongseong is a good, caring, handsome and mature boyfriend, however, immatureness possesses him when playing dress to impress. just to clear things up you had asked him to play the game with you before, so nothing was new to him ― neither to you: hearing him raging about a girl talking shit about his fashion sense. i can't forget to mention that he takes this game very serious ― especially when his girlfriend has an awesome ranking.
"look at me, i look so good," "yeah... you do..." you couldn't ignore how terribly your boyfriend's makeup was done. "give me five stars, okay?" "'kay..." "baby, if this girl tells me i look terrible one more time i'll do something really bad." "babe-" " 'you look ugly'...?" he read the chat. open his microphone: "SHUT UP, YOUR FIT LOOKS LIKE A TRASH BAG AND A PIECE OF SHIT JUST HAD A BABY," "JAY! she's a kid!" "and i am eating with this outfit- tha-that's how you guys say right? eat and all...?" "yes, you ate that outfit up babe."
― 𝓳aeyun: you have to be patient.
don't get me wrong, jaeyun is good at games, however, not in this one specifically. it took him about two days just to learn how to walk on roblox's games and how to jump, etc. imagine when you introduced this fashion game which you have time to dress yourself up, oh boy, he was confused. if learning the basics from controlling your avatar on roblox took him days, it took jaeyun a week to understand how to put on items, take them off, where you choose your hair and face... well, it was a pain, but he was able to get through it and play it almost normally.
"babe, why you're skin is grey?" "i didn't know where to change it," shrugs then tries to pose. "oh my god, babe, i showed you where a minute ago!" "okay, chill...! where do i pose though?" "oh my god, jaeyun..."
― 𝓼unghoon: has lots of difficulties but doesn't give up.
sunghoon is like a mix of heeseung and jake, which means he gets addicted, angry but can't stop playing and still has to be handled with patience and love. with that being said, be prepared to hear a bunch of questions and him leaving and then joining your server a few many times. also! can't forget that sunghoon is still a english learner, so the themes might be misunderstood by him sometimes heh... (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
"y/n~" he whines. "i'm done with this game!" leaves "babe, the theme was baggy and you literally dresses up as a trash bag..." "baggy means... bag? what did i do wrong?" "baggy is a style, not a trash bag," "should've told me earlier, y/n!" "hoonie-" "now everyone on the server thinks i am stupid! let's change server, join me now."
― 𝓼unoo: is the one who places first.
sunoo is undeniably the best dressed on the game among the members, usually winning against you. he has almost all the poses, knows how to layer and is always creative, even reaching top model before you.
"baby, can we play dress to impress together? i'm so close to reach top model." "yeah, su- WAIT! TOP MODEL?!" ― ooohhh, i might have forgotten to mention... sunoo plays dress to impress without you sometimes. "baby, just join me 'kay?" "sunshine, explain me how'd you reach top model before me? i play more than you do," "uh... i surely play more than you do, but okay," "wait, wha-" "babyyyy just join my server, i want you to celebrate this with me, alright?" "okay..." your heart softened when you realised he wanted you to be part of his reaching. "can we duo?" you asked. "we can, but just once; i would much rather vote you five (5) stars."
― 𝓳ungwon: jungwon.exe stopped working.
jungwon is like jake and oh gosh why i feel like every single one of them is a bit like him?!?! anyway, jungwon would be more than happy to join you, but has already told you that his skills might not really show up in this dressing game ― discreetly admitting that he doesn't know how to play it. he actually heard about the game because the other members seem to enjoy it. still, it's just not his cup of tea. however, since you were so excited about him playing with you, sigh, he might make this sacrifice ― in which he slowly gets very excited as well.
"wonnie, baby, why are you posing? you have to dress up before the times is up!" you warned him after spotting him on the game. "huh? it doesn't make sense, we have to dress up? where?" "there, baby," you gently took the ipad out of his hands and guided him to the changing booth. "oh... but is too far away from my spawn and why do i walk slower than that girl?" "because she bought a walk faster pack, now dress up wonnie, hurry up...!" "i want to buy that, how do i buy her pack?" "jungwon, dress up now, you have literally one minute." you spoke between your teeth. "okay, okay... y/n, where do i get the items though?" "jungwon..."
― 𝓻iki: it's that annoying giggly kid who doesn't follow the theme.
if you ever played dress to impress you probably came across to one of those annoying players who never follows the theme, with that, you might refuse to believe riki is this type of player; but trust me, he surely is. and why? because he doesn't take the game that seriously, doing whatever he wants and trolling people ― making them believe he's gonna gift them vip or one of the other packs.
"RIKI? HOW'D YOU PLACED FIRST?" "i'm just too good, i guess," your boyfriend shrugged, but you couldn't believe him. "you're lying." "are you saying i am not good at this game?" "..." "y/n," he would call you after suddenly bursting out of laughter. "what?" your annoyed tone of voice echoed and it sounded like his favourite music to his ears. "wanna know how i placed first?" riki looks up at you, hiding just half of his face with his ipad. "mhm..." you hummed, confirming. "i tricked a few girls saying that i would gift them vip if they voted me five (5) stars," he giggled, knowing you were about to get angry at him. "RIKI! you can't do that, imagine if that was me..." you pouted. "oh, yeah? i should've done worse then." "RIKI!" "OKAY! SORRY, enough of riki now, okay? i am baby, not riki..."
© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆
#𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 ― ot7#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhypen#enha fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen masterlist#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#enhypen writers#heeseung x reader#jongseong x reader#jay x reader#jaeyun x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon headcanons#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon#sunghoon fluff#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#niki x reader#riki x reader#hyung line#maknae line#tiktok trend#dress to impress
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a very depressing rant about mizuki
I feel like I have devoured every piece of trans media I've been able to find and while they have all had a major impact on me, Mizuki Akiyama - a character from a miku rhythm game of all places - has had the biggest impact on me by far.
I feel like trans stories don't focus enough on the shame of being trans. I feel like there are a lot of characters that simply insist on their identity without being shown to work through everything that gets you to be shameless as a trans person, and it just feels, alienating?
I came out to myself 10 years ago when I was 14 and I've been on hrt since I was 18 (6 years hrt) but things haven't gotten better for me, they've only gotten worse. At first, I loved expressing my identity, but as I tried harder and harder to be my true self, my self perception became increasingly harsh to the point that I shaved my head. I couldn't handle the immense pressure placed on me by society to be unclockable, to be normal. I hated myself for being this scum that thought they could be a woman. I scolded myself for being a cosplayer. So I gave up.
After I cut my hair, I realized how bad of a mistake I had made, and I wanted more than anything to just be myself again, even if it hurt. I was myself again for 4 years, but I never lost my shame. Why can't I just be normal? Why can I not give in?? Life would be so much easier. I could eat in public again, I could go anywhere I wanted, I could get any job I wanted. I could live without feeling pitied, I could avoid the fake kindness of allies. I could live without a paranoia that made me nearly psychotic.
Mizuki's character encapsulates these feelings. When they were young, they tried to be themself, but not able to deal with the pain society inflicted on them, they repressed their identity. Luckily, once they found some safety, they tried again, but their worries never went away. They never got over their shame. They never accepted that they could be accepted.
For Mizuki, and for me, being trans is an existential obstacle. It's a curse that you wish you could remove, but the only way is through suicide. I will always feel inadequate, no matter how many surgeries I get to fix my shameful face. It's crushing. It makes me scream and cry until I lose my voice. It makes me wish I'd never been born.
After Mizu5, these feelings flooded deeper into my head. Mizuki's responses to the events resonated. To isolate themself, to flee into their imagination, to be hopelessly suicidal, it was all too real. They concluded that there was no place for them that could ever be. It's all things I've done and felt so many times that I can't even count. But as much as I've done these things, as much as Mizuki has done these things, we both just want to be loved. We want to be ourselves and feel truly comfortable. We want to just be safe, but who will give that safety? How can we be convinced that being ourselves is a life that we can live? An easy reply is that gender doesn't exist and that it's all just a game we're playing. As much as I agree with this, it's impractical. I can tell myself that gender doesn't exist as much as I want but when I stay in my school's studio for 10 hours in a day and my facial hair pierces my skin in public view, I have to hide. I cannot be visible. I cannot be myself. The world is not a nice place.
So what are we supposed to do as trans people? I want the answer, an answer that doesn't sidestep reality. I want to leave my room. I want to stop hating myself. I want to live the fantasy I envisioned as a kid.
It's the same with Mizuki. They are hopeless, but they want to be saved. They hate themself, but they want to love themself. They don't really want to die. They can't find an answer, but they want one. So what will that be? I feel like with the way Mizuki is written, the writers have to answer that question somehow. They will have to find a way to convince Mizuki that they don't have to hate themself for being trans. I really wonder what that answer will be. I wonder if it will be something new. I'm just, so sick of being coddled and told I'm normal. I know I'm not, I know I'm a disgrace. I just want an answer. I cut my hair again. I don't know when I will ever grow it back.
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“Hallucinations”
sypnosis; "what are you thinking about Manon? you've been awfully quiet" the latina asks
cw; smut , fluff , sexual tension , mean Dani , begging , praise , hair pulling , back shots , sub Manon, strap usage , suggestive jokes and phrases, big back jokes , not proofread lolz , sorry 🧇 anon this took so long :((
now playing; “Emo Boy” By Ayesha Erotica
Practice was never that hard for Manon , it was fun in her opinion especially getting to finish it
yet today her focus seemed to be on something more—out of place , Daniela
yes the latina was captivating , the way she sways her hips or the way her hair bounces when she dances , the way her abs were on full display and how her fingers splayed on them
"Manonn" Daniela calls , urging Manon to go near her
"why" the older asks grinning
Daniela pulls her down which causes Manon to stumble , she giggles
"you looked so hot earlier" the younger whispers , smirking when Manon blushes at the comment
"I can say the same about you" Manon replied
—ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
here she goes again , dozed off , Manon has been awfully quiet
normally they wouldn't question this but she looked like she was overthinking something the way her eyebrows occasionally scrunched
Daniela knowing how weak Manon gets for her she decides to tease the older
"what are you thinking about Manon , you've been awfully quiet" the latina asks
"you" Manon replies, she can't hold it in anymore maybe just maybe teasing Daniela would give her what she needed
"oh really?" she asks in a condescending tone
—ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
the rest of the girls were playing some games since it was a Friday night
"hey no that's cheating!" Sophia exclaimed as Lara and Megan peers at the others cards
"no it's not , and pass the popcorn please"Megan defends
"okay bigback" Manon jokes
"the audacity" Megan chuckles
yoonchae was the first one to go to bed because she was tired soon to be joined by Sophia until it was only Manon and Daniela outside
daniela started showing Manon her nails , two of her press ons have fallen off
"oh wow Dani" Manon giggles pointing to the fingers
"ouh-" Daniela realizes , gasping she quickly put away her hands resting them on her legs
"you wanna see why?" implying why two of her press ons we're off , Manon freezes almost as if she didn't ask for this reaction
—ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
I guess she got what she asked for cause now Manon was kneeling infront of the younger as her eyes glossed with tears
"please.." Manon begs
the latina chuckles only pinching the girls nipples earning her a labored breathe and shudder
"you want it so bad?" she asks condescendingly, she was enjoying this way too much for her own good
"yes—ill be good i promise" Manon reasons as her voice got even more whiny , her hands glued to Danielas thighs
"grab my toy in the closet then" Daniela instructs to which Manon immediately followed
as she fastens her strap she made sure that Manon was also ready , removing the girls pants only to be greeted by her puffy cunt
"fucking whore" she tsks , the older clenched at the degrading as much as she'd want to deny it she couldn't she loved when Daniela was mean
with a heavy breath Daniela enters Manon , Manon whines as she try to slip away from the intrusion only to get pulled back by Daniela , slamming her hips
"f-fuck!" Manon squeals , her hands holding onto the sheets with force her eyes rolling back
"you like that? getting filled with my cock huh?" The latina says as she goes even deeper her hands on the older waist , slamming into her with a feverish pace
"mhm! yes Dani!" she manages to talk in between her moans , she feels too good
"I can't hear you!" daniela says before pulling Manon's hair causing her strap to go even deeper
"nghm! Dani!" Manons voice getting louder , escalating at a rapid speed
"gonna c-cum!" Manon screams , as said she did her whole body shaking and Daniela slowing down
as they pant for air. daniela readies a bath for Manon just the way the girl liked it
"are you okay?" daniela asks wiping Manon's face with a warm towel
"mhm" Manon hums , already feeling too tired
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Rewatching Batman and Batman Returns back-to-back and it's just reminding me why I like Selina as a love interest better than Vicki.
I mean, anyone who follows me already knows I'm a batcat fan, and I don't find Vicki that compelling outside of the TellTale Games version of her. But even beyond my own preferences, Selina is just a better match for Bruce in the Burtonverse overall.
The problem with Vicki is that she's so distant from Bruce's world. Just as Bruce explains in Batman Returns, she couldn't reconcile the two parts of him; Bruce Wayne and Batman. She had "difficulty with his duality," to paraphrase Selina. Part of it is Bruce's unwillingness to open up to another person, but I never got the vibe that Vicki liked Bruce being Batman. When she discovers his identity, she says to him, "I've loved you since I met you, but I don't know what to think of all this." It seemed like she wanted him to just be a normal guy, which of course, he can't be. Even at the end of the movie, she seems to accept Bruce as Batman begrudgingly, as something to tolerate rather than understand.
(At the end of the movie, Alfred tells her that Bruce will be "a little bit late" and she responds with "I'm not a bit surprised." It's meant to be a cute jab, but to me it just seems like she's passively accepted that Bruce's alter ego will always take precedent over her, and that's not very romantic to me)
On top of that, their date scenes are kind of bland, they don't really get to know each other that well, and they don't seem to have much in common. Overall, Vicki is written like a stock love interest, a damsel in distress to scream until Batman saves her. There's not much glue keeping them together.
But Selina on the other hand? She knows what it's like to have a darker alter ago. She knows what it's like to be traumatized and hurt by the criminals of Gotham (Max Shrek and Penguin). She knows what it's like to be a freak. Bruce himself says so in their movie: they're the same, "split down the center." When she finds out Bruce is Batman, she's upset not because she can't reconcile the two halves of him (like Vicki) but because it puts them on opposite sides of the law ("Does this mean we have to start fighting?"). They are perfectly matched but kept apart by outside forces and conflicting priorities, rather than other than lack of communication and compatibility.
On top of that, Bruce and Selina have way more chemistry (bolstered by Keaton and Pfeiffer's performances). On their date, they talk deeply to each other, about their pasts and their desires. They seem to innately connect in a way I never felt with Vicki, who seems to beg Bruce to be normal while he seems borderline bored with her half the time. With Vicki, it's like he's acting out a script. With Selina, it's an organic spark.
Of course, Selina does end up leaving at the end of their story, because she's been pinned down by men for too long and needs to go off on her own. Unlike Vicki, she's not built for the normal "fairy tale castle" life. And because he loves her, Bruce follows the old truth that if you love someone, set them free.
But despite this ending, I buy the tragic love story of Bruce and Selina more than the straightforward Hollywood ending of Bruce and Vicki. The former felt like soulmates torn apart by circumstances, the latter felt like two people who were never going to work in the first place because they weren't compatible.
If you ask me, Vicki was just a stepping stone for Bruce on his way to Selina. She taught him a lesson: He needs someone who will understand him fully and join him in the night, not simply wait for him to return and act "normal" again.
The big difference is this: When the bat signal hits the sky, Vicki is going to stand back and worry.
But Selina Kyle? She's going to grab her whip and join Batman on the battle field by his side.
And at the end of the day, I'd much rather see a badass power couple working together as a team rather than a worried wife sitting at home while her husband goes off and saves the day.
#shut up elizabeth#sorry for the long ramble#im having Thoughts™#and then there was Dr. Chase and Julie#Dr. Chase was fun but not as much depth as Selina#and Julie was so forgettable and boring#I had to google her name because I thought it was Juliana for a sec#anyway batcat supremacy and all that#batcat#batman returns#batman 1989#bruce wayne#selina kyle#vicki vale#tim burton#burtonverse#michael keaton#michelle pfeiffer#kim basinger#dc#dc comics#thank you for coming to my ted talk#fandom meta#batman meta
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I’d love to hear your headcanons on the relationship of Catnap/Theo and The Prototype…especially when the poor kid became wee little baby Catnap. The Prototype must have a lot of guilt over that, and many, many other things…
Oh, boy, I have so much to talk about!
First, for me their relationship is and will always be of father and son. Even during the time Theo/Catnap starts looking up to Prototype as his god, it is still, at its core, a parent and child relationship. The religious imagery is just another layer it has, even if it's a very bad and unhealthy one. For me the whole cult thing was something Prototype only allowed to happen because it gave him more control over the factory, and, by extension, more protection to his kid, because if anyone dared to mess with him, they would know they would have messed up with the Prototye himself. And also because Elliot was used to people looking up to him and "lost" his "window" to cut it off before it became too much, like how we see in-game.
I think Theo met Prototype by accident, when he was running from bullies and accidentally got lost. He called for help until Prototype heard him and made a "mental link", gently guiding Theo out of where he was. Prototype was in the middle of an escape attempt, btw, and stopped because Theo was just a child and needed help. He would have done the same for any other kid in Playcare, and this is an important part of his personality to me. Proto would never hurt a kid (except if he thinks said hurt will free them from their suffering, which is why he kills CatNap during the og game).
Theo, very young and a bit religious, thought that the voice was actually a guardian angel guiding him out, and tried to contact the Prototype by praying. Proto, who still had the mental link with the kid, was very amused, and told him that no, he's not an angel, just another creature trapped inside Playtime Co. Prototype would often silently escape his cell in order to talk to Theo, or use the mental connection to make his hand appear in front of him. The kid was lonely, terrified, and no other adult seemed competent enough to just do their job as a person and help him, and Prototype knew what it was like to be lonely and terrified. He wouldn't allow this little one to be alone like he himself was.
He protected Theo the best he could. He wouldn't scare the bullies, knowing well that if he did, the higher-ups would immediately make a connection and end any attempts at contacting Theo. At this point Proto was already with the adoption papers all signed up inside his head but he just thought it was normal behavior for him until years later. Prototype helped Theo with homework, taught him how to calm himself down, and, little by little, started showing more of himself. First he made it so that Theo would only see his hand, then his arm. He warned the boy that he had a very scary appearance, to which Theo replied that even angels look a bit scary the first time you see then. Surprisingly, the little boy was amazed by how the Prototype looked like! He thought he was the coolest thing EVER.
Prototype's influence also made Theo start scoring higher at the Game Station. He was a very frail and clumsy kid. If it wasn't for Proto being gentle and encouraging, Theo would have never been fit for the Bigger Bodies initiative. This is something Prototype didn't realize until he accidentally overheard Sawyer talking about the Smiling Critters "line" of Bigger Bodies and saw the test results for Theo. By this point, Proto was planning an escape, with him and the boy freeing all the orphans trapped inside Playtime Co, but when he saw these papers, he decided that the plan must be done as soon and quick as possible. He would allow anyone else to be hurt. And he didn't realize it at the time, but he wasn't going to allow Sawyer to just take his kid away from him like that.
And then Theo almost fucking died. Haha. Lmao, even.
Maybe the fact that Proto didn't have more time to "train" him could be part of the reason why the accident happened. Maybe Theo was just too young. But what matters is that he almost died, and Prototype kept on calling to him, begging him to survive, to get up, but the boy wasn't moving. The Prototype had failed yet another child, and this time it almost costed their life. I think this is how he found out he could cry in his new body, because he was sobbing, and if he wasn't so focused on getting help and not being silent I think he would have screamed a bit.
And then he saw his boy being brought to that room, and he couldn't do anything to stop it from happening. And at least to me this was one of the worst things that ever happened to Prototype, because he loved that kid just like how he loved Poppy when things weren't like this. Taking care of him, raising him... He did that to Poppy as well.
And he failed the two of them.
I think that after Theo became CatNap, Prototype tried to keep a certain distance between them, because he almost killed that boy. He's not a good parent, nor a good friend. He tried to hard to save him, and for what? But to Theo, this wasn't a case of his parent trying to protect him. The last thing he heard was Prototype calling himself a failure: "You failed another one", he said, and Theo thought he was calling him a failure for almost dying. And combine that with the distance post-Bigger Bodies transformation, and the fact that to Theo he was still alive because Prototype saved him, and you have just the right amounts of guilt, second chances and redemption to kickstart the worship.
Theo/CatNap wanted to prove himself to be useful, to be better. Prototype wanted to free him and everyone else inside, and told him about the Hour of Joy. CatNap delivered the news to other toys, grateful that he was being useful to his savior, and helped him set everything in motion for the following months. After the HoJ, Prototype realized he had to feed all the toys inside, and food is not an infinite supply. He taught CatNap how to protect himself from other hungry toys and how to hunt and scavenge for food, and in CatNap's eyes his god was teaching him everything he knew just like old times. It was a reward, he had proved himself to be useful, things will be okay once more.
@/lassieposting made some really interesting posts about their relationship post-HoJ, and I recommend checking the poppy playtime tag on their blog! I love the idea of CatNap eventually leaving Prototype's wing/"area" after a certain amount of time, coming back to the Smiling Critters as a hunter and thinking it's stupid how the group doesn't want to hunt for other toys. However, I like to think that Prototype one day came up to him and told him there wasn't anything else for him to learn, and that he could go, once again creating a distance between them, as Prototype/Elliot still thinks he failed the kid and that he will fail him again if he stays close. In CatNap's eyes this was his savior asking him to prove himself so he would be allowed to be close to him again.
With enough time, CatNap made his Prototype cult, which was allowed to keep on going because Proto firmly believed this would protect him and the mini critters. Plus, more control over the factory, stopping toys from going on a rampage or trying to leave and risking making the experiments known to the authorities. Meanwhile CatNap had to provide food for the mini critters and was finding the same problems Proto himself was having with feeding the toys, and this just made his admiration and worship of him grow more and more (hc also by @/lassieposting).
There's also another element to their relationship: Elliot was a very kind man who was shaken up by war. He raised Poppy to be kind, as much as she possibly could be. For her, kindness was a choice she must make every single day. But for Theodore post Hour of Joy, kindness was something that could cost him his life. Prototype taught him how to be a hunter, and this meant not playing around and not being able to be a kid anymore. CatNap feels like a part of him went missing when he was forced to stop playing because he needed to survive, and a part of him does resent Prototype for that, but he will never admit it out loud.
By the time Angel enters the factory and the game starts, Prototype is being eaten alive by his own guilt. He failed every single child in that damned factory, he failed his two kids (Poppy and Theodore), and he failed himself and his principles. Meanwhile, CatNap is starving not just for food, but for any love and attention he can receive from Prototype. All he wants is for things to go back to how they were once before, but the distance between them just keeps on growing. The cult, the worship and the guilt are killing this relationship for years, and neither of them are able to talk about it.
CatNap just wants his dad back.
Prototype just wishes Theo never had to meet a monster like him.
#poppy playtime#catnap#experiment 1006#poppy playtime prototype#oh my God i'm TEARING UP and i'm not even joke#joking#screaming at this why can't i be normal about this game!!!!!!! it's not even that good!!!!!!!!!!#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#ask tag#ref#poppy worldwide#save everyone au#poppy playtime headcanons
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uh oh i feel like i have a deeply maladaptative response to people knowing Literally Anything about me it's fine it's fine i'm handling it very well
#constantly daydreaming about throwing my phone in the river n leaving a nice note for my parents and fucking LEAVING#but like#if i just stop talking to my friends#then what's the point#do i make new friends? will i do the same shit to my new friends?#it feels like kind of a dick move to do that to people i like#and i DO like them#i like hanging out w them and just. i don't know. i feel like this freedom i dream of is something i could have in this life yknow.#i feel if i had balls i could just start living the life i want#it's not even like my parents are dicks or something they trust me and they've very understanding and loving#they wouldn't judge me for how i dress or be mad if i stay out late as long as i warn them#but i dont know. i dont know why i'm a massive fucking weirdo about it okay.#but i've caused them so much trouble already. i feel like i'm betraying them if i grow up.#i feel like i'm causing them too much worry no matter if i stray away from the nest or stay.#and i feel like a fucking monster for not loving them enough but i can't stand being near them anymore#it's too painful#i've never managed to completely hate them even when i was deep in depression and they handled it poorly#i'd get into a screaming match with my dad and an hour later we'd sing songs together in the car#but it's been so dull lately. it feels like im in a video game. picking prewritten dialogue and being fed prewritten answers.#and WHY does this happen. why can't i just have a normal relationship with people#why do i turn into an alien on his first day on earth whenever i start caring abt someone#why are we so fucking abnormal as a family that we never goddamn hang out#why am i such an empty husk of a person that i cannot for the life of me figure out something we could do together#i keep believing in this fantasm of one day changing everything in one fell swoop instead of growing up like a normal guy#because i know i'm a coward. i'm scared of other people seeing me fail.#i dont want to hurt my parents ever again and i dont want to settle for halfway freedom#so i repress hardcore things i want so that nobody not even me can decipher what it is#smth smth the enormity of my desire disgusts me#and of course it fails because im weakshit and cannot restrict anything ever#and i hurt them anyway
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THE PERFECT GIRL / paige bueckers
ghostface!paige x fem!reader headcanons!!
cw: blood mention, killing mention, manipulative paige, overstim, lowkey whiney but dom paige, basically no dialogue yay!!
yall met either in elementary or middle school. some random girl was being rude to you and of course paige wanted to stand up for you. and ever since the yall have been best friends
definitely the type to quiet literally go insane once boys or girls start to look at you with interest. she is declining all their offers to you and you're always get upset about it, and she'll always reassure you, "oh come on.. you know i know what's best, y/n."
when you got your first girlfriend, she was livid. always looking at her a certain way, always had something smart to say back to her, anytime you would bring her up she would say something mean about her. she was so much better than your girlfriend so why weren't you dating her?
and when one week your girlfriend just disappeared and you were heartbroken, who was there for you? paige of course. she stayed at your house 24/7 comforting you. would go pick up whatever you wanted and made sure you were alright. while she's holding you in bed she can't help but think back to your girlfriends screams as she tortured her, her crying and begging to be let go because why would y/n's best friend hurt her? anyways
and another week later when her body was found, you were disgusted. who in their right mind would brutally kill someone like that? and paige was there for every moment of it. still holding you while you cried over that worthless girl.
for the rest of high school you never had another girlfriend, too scared of losing that one as well. paige didn't mind at all, maybe just a little bit because she wanted to kill them but....
she was never scared to stand up for you either, especially at parties when guys just would not catch the fucking hint to back off of what's hers. his body was also found two days later, multiple stab wounds covering his body.
when it was time for the both of you to graduate, she followed you to uconn. making sure that both of you could be roommates!! and you were so happy to have your best friend with you there. only problem was her jealous issues got way worse.
since you were an adult now, you were going out more with friends, dressing up in dresses what fit you so well that paige couldn't help but stay home that night and just think of you while touching herself, whining out your name while she cums
goes right back to being normal with you afterwards!! always the one to pick you up while youre drunk out of your mind. making sure you're buckled up in the car, has a cover in the car to cover you up with, if you're hungry she'll always stop somewhere for you
but you start to get real concerned when anyone who asks you out just starts showing up dead? you don't think it's paige at all, you don't catch onto it at first
you go to every single one of her basketball games, being the loudest in the crowd. she's always looking over to you to make sure you're watching her. her favorite is after the game and you run up to her in the court. her wrapping her arms around you, both of you laughing and smiling. she can't help herself but lean down and press her lips to yours, the both of you surprised
after that game she takes you on so many dates, wanting you to see how well she can treat you. she's buying you any and everything you have ever wanted
she hasn't killed anyone in a while, stopped for a couple months once the two of you started dating
that changes once you became friends with a certain group of people. them influencing you to do whatever, one of them being extremely touchy and flirty with you. but you don't pay attention to them, you're head over heels for paige you don't even realize they are flirting with you
andddd they show up dead as well... this murder being the worse one they've seen so far. you don't think anything of it until you you're cleaning yalls dorm/apartment and you find a bag in the room. opening it you see a ghostface mask and knives which are covered in blood
you'd been frozen for over a minute now, not even realizing the paige was walked into the room. you're full of every emotion, you don't know whether to be disgusted, angry, or what
argument breaks out between the two of you, you're yelling at her and accusing her of killing all of your friends. argument ends with paige pushing you against the wall and pressing her mouth against yours, can't help herself but grind herself against you
she's just so whiney while kissing you and trying to speak to you, telling lies about "nonono, i would never do that, you have to believe me, baby.."
ends up with her hands in your shorts, thrusting her fingers deep inside you as you whine for more. you're gone so fast once her thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick circles against it. she can't help but tease you on how "you're such a slut, cumming on my hands knowing that I killed all your friends? your ex girlfriend? just know i'm better than them, hm?"
her movement doesn't stop either as you whine, staring up at her with tears streaming down your face, from the pleasure? or from knowing she killed all those people? you have no idea
her thumb stays rubbing against your clit that you can't help but cum again and again because of her. after your third orgasm she slaps your cunt just slightly before pulling her hand out of your messy shorts.
"can give me more, can't you? waited so long to get you. had to watch people try so hard for you just for them to end up bleeding to death because of me," she's rambling now as she pulls your shorts down, your cum sticking all over your thighs which makes her laugh. "soaking wet as i'm talking about killing them? 's pathetic, y/n." just muttering to herself like she can't stop
forcing you onto the bed as she falls between your thighs, her tongue pushing deep inside you as you cry and try to pull away from the pleasure. she's pulling you back every time, her arms holding you down as you moan for her to stop and slow down. you feel terrible knowing that you're about to cum on her mouth knowing that she killed all those people.. but you just can't help it, she's so hot and just so good at eating you out
eventually you're begging for her cock, random babbles just coming from you as you plead her for more and how "i won't tell anyone, paige!! p-please just want y-you so bad," you're hiccuping and slurring your words slightly from how intense you're orgasms feel
lowkey got carried away with this but i also imagine you either joining her or leaving her... of course joining her would make her extremely happy but leaving?? she's tracking you down and she will find you
taglist for those who commented on the post!! @cosmopretty @martinsgirl @elliecoochieeater @melpthatsme @sweetluna20 @st4rrzynight !!!
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x fem reader#paige bueckers smut#smut#ghostface#ghostface paige bueckers#heart4caitlin
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HIII!!! I love ur writing sm <3 If you're taking requests, I was wondering if you could do one about a reporter reader who used to date Rafe but they broke up and now she has to interview him??? Set in college if possible! Thank you so much! I hope you're having a good day 🥰
hi baby! yes, i do take requests and i absolutely love this one 🥰 i made reader work for a network company but she's still in college and he plays basketball! (but fair warning, i know absolutely nothing about basketball so if i got the terminologies wrong, look away!!) i hope you enjoy <3 this is angsty as fuck
ALL FOR THE GAME | Rafe Cameron
MASTERLIST (Oneshot) | College Basketball Player x Ex!Reporter!Female Reader .ᐟ
Content — college au, athlete/reporter, prior breakup, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort
Word Count — 4.2K
You couldn't believe it.
It's considered lucky. For someone in your position—having received this entry-level job a couple of weeks ago—to have the opportunity to interview an athlete. In fact, many people would call it a great honor.
And it is. Under normal circumstances, you would be more than happy to oblige—elated, even—because people at this stage in your career rarely get such an opening. Especially since you're in college, fully prepared for this internship to be nothing more than grunt work.
Yet, this? This would allow you to advance your career at an expedited rate only offered to nepotism. You should be thrilled, overcome with joy, jumping at your feet and thanking whatever deity you believed in for such a chance.
But you don't.
Because the person to interview is Rafe.
Rafe Cameron, the top prospect of the NBA draft picks.
Rafe Cameron, your ex-boyfriend.
Your boss waits for an answer. He proposed the question a few moments ago, about covering the press conference for the last game of the season. Because of a sick reporter who called out at the last minute, your objective is to build a profile on Rafe Cameron. Since he's the leading prospect, with scouts all over the country looking at him, many people want to know more about the rising all-star who's done nothing but dominate the court.
This proposal, however, was done more out of common courtesy. No one would be stupid enough to say no, and when your boss raises a brow, signifying his manifesting annoyance from your silence and lack of celebratory cheers—you stammer.
"Um, um," you say.
"Um, what?" He prompts. "Will you be doing it or not?"
You shouldn't. There are many reasons why you shouldn't attend Rafe's basketball games. There's resentment because when you step back into that arena, back onto that court, you're reminded of how Rafe picked it over you. There's lingering sadness, residing heavily against the back of your heart, dulled from the passage of time, but not completely forgotten. And lastly, there's anger, because sometimes, all you want to do is scream, cry, and yell at the man who shattered your heart into a billion different pieces.
But that doesn't matter, does it?
Romance has no place in a reporter's life because you're nothing more but a projection for the audience, a vessel for the readers to learn about something else. You don't have feelings; you're a prop. And, certainly, it doesn't matter to your boss, who's only asking you because you're the last choice.
"Well?"
Seconds away from retracting the offer, something in your chest tightens. Logically, you know the choice to make. But your heart doesn't agree. It still hurts, aches, and burns at all of the past memories. It wants nothing more than to bury itself in a hole and pretend that such a critical part of your history does not exist.
But you can't. Life only moves forward. So, all you do is move with it.
"I'll do it."
By the time you arrive at the stadium, all you want to do is run. Anxiety pricks at your spine and your palms grow clammy by your side. Everything inside you is blaring like a warning, cautioning that this is a mistake, that you aren't ready, and that you should turn back.
Despite the badge dangling around your neck, you almost listen. Put your career on hold for a man who hasn't given a single thought about you since the breakup. You can't let him win, and with that reminder, you move with the mob, flocking to their seats.
The atmosphere is charged with exhilaration, and you're reminded of everything before. It's automatic. How easy it is for you to return to old patterns, to follow them, and to find yourself trickling down the steps and towards the courtside seats reserved for family and friends of the team.
Until a hand is placed on your lower back, and a security guard guides you to the press box instead.
It's quieter. The enclosure of the room dulls the energy of the crowd, with a thick sheet of glass separating you from the rest of the people, and reminding you of your purpose.
You take a seat on a cushioned chair, reserved for your network, and look around the place. You're among the most seasoned reporters in their field, chatting with one another, familiarity engulfing the air that somewhat alienates you. They pay you little mind—saved for a curious-yet-judgmental glance at how you wore a jersey compared to their formal suits and pencil skirts. When you follow their line of vision, you realize it wasn't an ordinary merch of the UNC team but Rafe's.
"Fuck," you mumble. You hadn't realized you picked out his jersey; it was left in the back of your closet and you couldn't see yourself attending your college's game without a visual form of support. This probably appears to the rest of the journalists that you're nothing more than a superfan who managed to weasel their way into their network.
It makes your stomach flips with nausea. You want to separate Rafe from you as much as possible, and with a quick run to the bathroom, you change out of the merch and throw it over your tote, straightening out your blouse underneath. When you return, the players are slowly filling out to court.
The visitors' team enters first; UNC follows. You count each player that exits the locker room, watching their expressions as they grin and absorb the energy of their home stadium, as they walk down the length of the bench, as they talk among themselves and share playful jests and banter. You didn't even know you were holding your breath until Rafe stepped out last, to the loudest cheer of the crowd, with a solemn look on his face.
You watch as Rafe searches the stands. Not in the same manner as his teammates, where they're acknowledging fans, or sending flirtatious winks to pretty girls sitting front row. It's different— with purpose. He's searching for something—someone—and your heart clenches in your chest at the thought of Rafe having found your replacement.
But it's been months, hasn't it? It should be more than fair game for him to date whatever he wants. You can still act professionally with this developing news, but it's striking down at your armor.
However, whoever he's looking for, he doesn't find. Rafe goes to huddle with the rest of his team as their Coach gives a final motivational speech before releasing them.
The game starts with a tip-off, and once the referee throws the ball in the air, Rafe takes it into his possession.
He sprints across the court, slicing through the opponent players, and scoring points on the board. Rafe is powerful, knowing exactly when to exchange his hands and pass to his teammates, where exactly to cut through, and when to commit to a play. Commentary heard from the built-in speakers can attest to it, as their primary focus is on how Rafe is taking the last game of the season by storm.
But, while everyone's eyes are glued to the game, as much as you try not to, you can't do anything but stare at Rafe.
He's just as incredible as he was when you were dating him; if not, more. In some way, it makes your heart tighten, knowing that this validates his reason for the breakup. You just wish he felt some semblance of the pain you feel. But as much as you hate it, you're also proud. Rafe has come so far, and trained so hard, to make it to where he is. If he secures a win for the last game, it will be nothing but a guaranteed track to the NBA and luxuries and fame ahead.
All without you.
By the time the game ended, Rafe scored the last shot in a close game, delivering the end of the conference with a secured UNC victory. Everyone in the press box stands from their seats, heading to the media room where they'll be meeting a panel of UNC athletes for questions.
Yet, you linger. You step up to the glass, watching as the erupted cheers of the audience surround the entire stadium, much to the glee of the UNC team, while Rafe stands in the middle of the court for a few seconds, soaking everything in. His eyes pan across the bleachers again, in search for something, before his expression falls and he retreats to the locker room.
When you enter the room of journalists, you slip into a seat. It'll be a while before the players come shuffling in, and you take each second to rehearse and calm your nerves. In one hand, is a tape recorder, while the other is a notepad of the written questions you plan to ask.
UNC's Publicist steps out first to provide an official statement and give a brief overview of the conduct of this press conference. She'll be the moderator, giving everyone enough time to ask all of their questions, and she'll be selecting the networks to her own accord. After everyone comes to the general consensus, the door opens and the Coach steps out with his players.
You watch with bated breath as Rafe is the last to enter, freshly showered and changed into grey sweatpants with a matching UNC zip-up jacket. His headphones dangles around his neck, while his expression exudes nothing but boredom and reluctance. Rafe has always hated interviews, especially post-games, during your relationship. At least that's the one thing that hasn't changed.
You drop your gaze to your lap, swallowing hard as you calm your racing heartbeat. It's been months, yet you still feel the same emotions coursing through you as if no time has passed—longing, hurt, sadness. You whisper positive affirmations, reminding yourself that it's just a job, and that'll be short and simple. You won't even have to speak to Rafe, because your boss may have said to find out more about Rafe Cameron for your profile, nowhere did he say you have to ask him specifically.
When Rafe sits on his chair, he lazily scans the room, a habit of his to pass the time, before he spots you among the crowd. In the third row, second seat; your favorite choice to sit. You don't see it, but a corner smile lifts to his face, demeanor changing, and he straightens up in his seat.
Throughout the conference, the publicist hands the microphone off to whoever she selects. They often direct their questions at Rafe, to which he gives monosyllabic and deadpanned answers. Then, when they try to seek more clarification, Rafe gives them nothing, much to their grimness.
You keep your head low, writing down notes, and drawing doodles on the edge of your notepad. Anything to avoid making accidental eye contact with Rafe. But, regardless, you feel him. The heat of his stare remains on you the entire time, especially when the publicist approach you and hands you the microphone.
It’s time.
With trembling hands, you stand from your seat. You turn your attention to the front of the panel, introducing yourself, your network, and your job. Smiles spread across Rafe's teammates as they recognize you, and you offer a polite one of your own.
Beginning at the furthest player at the end of the table, you ask, "How would you describe Mr. Cameron as a teammate?"
He grins as if he was prepared for this. "Rafe's an incredible teammate and captain. He's a capable leader, who's strong on the court, but also strong on having his teammates' back. You saw it back there—" That earns a small laugh from the reporters. "But, yeah. Rafe's one of my favorite teammates, if I'm being honest."
You tilt your head at that conclusion, because, if you remember correctly, in freshman year, he often rivaled with Rafe and got into fights over minor things. Regardless, you nod, thanking him for his response, and moving on to the next player with the next question.
"What do you think about Mr. Cameron's plays throughout the season?"
"Is that all you got for me, Mrs?" The second player teases playfully, causing heat to warm your cheeks. "Whatever, I got this. Well, let me think. Rafe's always had solid stats. He's one of the hardest-working players on and off the court, and he always keeps his head focused. Even when he had a bit of a bump a couple of months back, he adjusted his plays and bounced back. That’s his resilience."
Your breath hitches at the implication. You try your hardest not to sneak a glance at Rafe, but you can't help yourself. Turning to your side, you discover Rafe watching you, his expression grimacing at the confession of his teammate.
Months ago. The only thing that changed was your breakup. Does this mean he was as affected as you were?
You try not to think too much about that. Thanking the player again, you move to the next, asking more about Rafe's character—his prospects for the NBA, and his experience managing a student-athlete. You didn't ask just about Rafe, you asked about the games and conferences too, but most of the players always return their answers to Rafe. Positively. As if they had this unspoken agreement behind the scenes to hype Rafe up to his ex-girlfriend.
Time goes on, and you start to immerse yourself in the role. It wasn't as difficult as you expected, especially because you're entertaining a team who've known you all throughout their collegiate career. They answered the questions with enthusiasm and a playfulness that can only be recognized by years of familiarity. You can feel the energy from the reporters shift, stewed with envy, because of how the players are showing favoritism to a novice reporter who barely has her foot in the door.
Rafe watches you the entire time. How truly riveting you are in your role. How you command the room with your questions, how you captivate the players, and how you grow more comfortable as you talk to your teammates. He waits patiently as you make your way down the table, for his chance to talk to you.
But just as he's about to be next, you return the microphone to the moderator. You were going to leave him hanging. Before you can fully hand off the mic, a voice commands the room.
"What about me?"
It was Rafe. You lift your head to find him leaning against his own microphone propped on the table, his blue eyes pinned on you, his expression full of want. Your lips part, but no words fall through. The publicist doesn't take back the microphone.
You stammer. "What about you?"
"Don't you have any questions for me?" He questions, as the crowd murmurs with surprise. On any other day, Rafe would've gladly taken the lack of questions aimed at his face. You've done your research; you've seen his previous interviews.
"I..." You can't seem to answer him. All eyes—from the Coach, to the players (who are smiling their head off), to the reporters—turn to you. "I've asked all my questions."
"I'm sure you can think of one more," he declares, his eyes not once straying from your face. As if he's taking the time to memorize all of your features, to absorb any changes. "Come on, hit me."
Everyone waits. Eagerly. With jealousy. The media room stills with a palpable silence, and you can't do anything but retract your arm, holding the microphone back up to your lips.
You blink, racking your brain for any questions. You truly did ask all of them, and there's nothing appropriate enough to ask in front of a room full of people who are recording and monitoring your moves. So, you settle on something safe.
"How did you feel scoring that winning shot?"
Rafe takes a deliberate moment to consider his answer. His silence tells it all. Before he leans down against the mic, his lips centimeters from the pop filter, and he says, "Empty."
Flashes of the camera go off, and hushed whispers are heard throughout the room. But none of that matters to you. Your eyes remain on Rafe, your heart skipping beats from his confession, and you tame enough of your voice before asking a follow-up. "Can you explain why?"
He nods. "Basketball is great and all, and I'm grateful for everything that has happened, and all I have accomplished. Hell, I'm even grateful for this team right here that's been such a hardass on me since day one," he gestures to his teammates on the panel, and they all grin and laugh. One even blows him a kiss. "But, at the end of the day, it's just a game. Without the people you love by your side, it's meaningless."
You truly feel like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs and tears crowd your waterline. When his words finally deliver through, it's almost a straight shot to your chest. This was the admission you'd been waiting for, but it didn't feel satisfactory whatsoever. It's painful, all of the old wounds opening by their stitches, and grief comes crawling up your throat, demanding to be felt.
You don't answer him. You can't. Rafe watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see if his words had any impact, but you hide them well. For now. With tears stinging your vision, and seconds from unraveling at the seams, you drop the microphone onto the chair and leave the room in a rush.
That's when he realizes he fucked up.
Rafe stands from his seat, ready to follow after you, but his Coach commands him to sit down. His gaze remains on you until you exit the room, but with direct orders, he can do nothing but slump back into his chair.
When Rafe finishes the rest of his interviews, with more reluctance than he had before, he wants nothing more than to go back to campus to search for you. But he doesn't know if that's such a good idea. Clearing out, Rafe steps out of the doors.
To where you were waiting.
"You had no right," you snap, as Rafe heads to the exit of the stadium. He whips around at the sound of your voice, finding you leaning against the wall. As much as he knows he fucked up, he can't explain the happiness he feels at seeing you still here.
"For what?" Rafe prompts with an easygoing smile, "Talking? I'm pretty sure that's what the press conference is about."
But you don't take it so easy.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," you huff, "You used my words against me."
During the breakup, Rafe had said something along the lines of focusing on his basketball career. You had rebutted that basketball can't be the one thing in his life. At the time, he disagreed, prompting the necessity of the breakup further. It had hurt to hear your words twisted and used against you.
"It was friendly," he reassures. "Just like the rest of my teammates. Talking like we're friends."
"We're not friends and you know that."
He frowns. "We said we would be."
"No, you said that," you hiss, clenching your hands by your side, memories slapping you and prickling your skin. "To rid yourself of the guilt, or to make it seem like permanent. I don't know. But it doesn't work that way with me, Rafe. We aren't friends."
His brows pinch together, and agitation flares through his hard features. "So, that's what it's gonna be like? You come to my games and you interview my entire team but you ignore me because we broke up? That's unprofessional."
You falter. "That's not fair."
"It isn't?" He challenges, stepping closer into your space. "How do you think I felt when you were interviewing every single one of my teammates about me, but refusing to talk to me? To look at me? What does that suggest?"
"That I got everything I needed from your teammates."
"You could've gotten it directly from the source."
"I didn't need to,"
"You could've,"
"Why are you so adamant about me talking to you?"
"Because you're acting like a vindictive bitch."
You stagger back as if he struck you, and Rafe instantly regretted the words that left his mouth. But he can't take them back. Your lips part, and you stare at him in disbelief, but you come up with nothing to defend yourself.
With the hardest glare you can muster, you proclaim, "Fuck you, Rafe."
And you turn to leave.
Rafe quickly follows after you. "Wait—that's not—I didn't mean that."
"I don't want to talk to you anymore."
"Just like you didn't want to talk to me in the conference room?"
"You broke up with me!" You snap, stopping in your tracks with such abruptness, that Rafe almost ran into you. Turning back around to face him, you say, "You were the love of my life, and you left me, and you expect me to keep it professional?"
Rafe says nothing.
"I'm trying," you croak, tears crowding your vision again, and you hate how vulnerable and pathetic you feel in his presence. Like it was back to that night in the car, where Rafe said it was over. "I'm trying to do this right."
Rafe watches your face with anguish, but he can't say anything. You're trying hard to keep your composure, and regain some semblance of stability, you say with a even voice, "I'm glad everything is working out the way you want it to. I'm glad you get this bigshot career and you're about to make it in the NBA, and I'm glad you found it so easy to move on but that's not how it worked with me." Your voice cracks. "I loved you. I can't just forget about it like it's nothing."
His voice is small when he answers. "I didn't."
"You didn't?" You repeat with disbelief. "Rafe, you're thriving. You barely look like our breakup had any impact on you. You're about to secure one of the biggest deals in NBA history. What else could you possibly be missing?"
"You."
His dark eyes connect with yours in utmost vulnerability and it cripples you. All your aggression and anger, all your pent-up frustration—it makes you upset that Rafe manage to disarm you with one word.
"No," you step back, shaking your head, "You can't do that."
"It's the truth."
"It's too late."
Rafe looks pained at your declaration. "Don't say that."
"Don't say what?" You sniffle, your vision blurring with hot tears. "My truth? Did you expect me to wait around for you to come to your senses? To beg for you to take me back?"
"I didn't..." Rafe stammers, searching your face for any indication that it isn't too late. That he still had a chance. But he doesn't find any. "I was honest back there. Any win without you feels empty."
"Stop,"
"I made a mistake."
"Rafe—" You shake your head again, sucking in a deep breath, and needing him to listen and step back. "I'm not here to talk about that. I don't want to talk about that."
"But I do,"
"But I don't," you declare firmly. "I just... I need you to understand. You can't do that. I'm trying to move on with my life. And I understand that we're going to be seeing each other, no matter how I don't want to. But I'll get used to it. I'll numb that pain. But you can't do that. Here; back there. It wasn't fair to me."
Your words sound too permanent. Too real. Rafe can't stand it.
With desperation, he pleads, "Can we talk?"
"We're already talking."
"No, I'm talking about us," Rafe says, taking a step forward. Only for you to take one back. "Please."
"There's nothing to talk about it."
"There's so much to say."
"Name one."
"I miss you."
"Rafe," you cry, tears streaming down your face that you can no longer contain. He hates seeing you cry. He hates it more to be the reason. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over, to soothe the pain, but it looks as if it would hurt worse if he tried to touch you. "Please stop. You're breaking my heart again."
He made a mistake. There are so many times he can say that. When he saw you in the media room, for the first time in months, it came rushing back to what he's missing. How much he's losing you. He wanted to ask you so much—about how you're doing, to learn how you got the job, to uncover more about how close you are to achieving your dreams.
But he was barricaded. By responsibilities, obligations, and duties. He couldn't ask you in a room full of people. He couldn't help you when his father pressured him to break up with you for his career. He couldn't do anything, then. But he wants to do better now.
He says your name, so defeated, in a last-ditch effort. But you shake your head.
You need to leave this place with whatever is left of your pride and dignity. So, you straighten your spine, take out his jersey from your tote, and hand him the last remnant of your relationship. "Congratulations on your win, Mr. Cameron. I wish you the best in your career."
And when you turn to leave this time, he doesn't stop you.
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#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#rafe angst#rafe cameron angst#hurt/no comfort#obx angst#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks
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One Sided Love Triangles: Tokyo Debunker
Link to Twisted Wonderland Post
Because I hate when people have to lose. Though I'd be way more comfortable writing a normal love triangle for tdb than twst... there's a few of these bitches who could stand to be knocked down a peg or two.
Haru vs Peekaboo- betrayal never comes from your enemies does it. Haru wants to be happy you get along with his baby, and he's really grateful for your continued help in the anomalous animal sanctuary, really. He even originally found your interactions with Peekabo really cute! He's got a bunch of videos saved on his phone and everything but he can't help but feel just a wee bit bitter. He really wants to be the one with his head in your lap getting scritches and being told how cute he is. Something he'd never say to your face but whines about at the bar enough for Romeo to record and send to you. "For free?" Yeah for free he's had enough of this shit please come get your man MC.
Kaito vs Luca- this one is cannon to a degree I think... Kaito is deeply insecure about how much more confident Luca is around MC compared to him and how the girls on campus seem to like him more. The fact that he's so painfully oblivious doesn't help, meanwhile Luca is just overjoyed that his two best friends are in such a good relationship. You're genuinely perfect for each other, why all these secrecy and making him promise not to tell the other about the nice things you say? Isn't it natural to gush about your partner???
Towa vs Ren- Towa is such a pouty baby who doesn't fully understand his feelings and Ren is just happy to have a friend who understands the concept of a log in bonus. Neither of you fully realize that Towa is attempting to flirt, or would it be closer to say woo? All you know is one minute the two of you are casually chilling and talking about horror movies or something and then *BAM* Towa's thrown some flowers at Ren and pulled you into his lap. He's happy you wiggle to get comfy with him but very upset that you keep up your conversation with Ren. Stop being a good senpai and pay attention to hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim.
Tohma vs Leo- just hear me out. I don't think Tohma really gets jealous? He seems super secure in himself and his abilities so he doesn't have much of a reason to get whiny and silly over MC, that's your role in the relationship. And he knows, logically that this little video Leo uploaded is bait to test the security on campus but it doesn't stop him from damn near cracking his phone in half when he sees it. That's how Leo wants to play this little game? Well fine, Tohma hopes he's ready to be thoroughly humiliated. No one can flirt with another man's partner quite as well as a bitch with a monocle. Leo is totally unaware any of this for the most part, he just assumes the extra irritation he's picking up on from Tohma is because he keeps spying on him and Alan. The fact he keeps teasing MC doesn't even cross his mind, he's just doing that to irritate you.
... as a side note can you imagine how confused everyone would get if Leo and MC kept picking fights about their upcoming "divorce" when no one even thought they were ever technically together. Except for Ritsu who sits you down to seriously try to talk you in to let him being your divorce attorney and still doesn't fully get that it's a joke by the time you're done. Actually while I'm at it:
Leo vs Ritsu- where that's exactly your dynamic but Leo starts catching some genuine feelings when he tries to crack a joke about you cheating on him with your divorce attorney only to realize that makes him unironically angry. How dare you, after everything you've been through. Wasn't he he enough? You know he can't treat you like he can. And you're just like "what can't treat me wrong?" And then you have a very toxic make out session Sho has to hear both of you scream about later while he seriously considers taking up a drinking problem.
Taiga vs Haru- this game has one character named Haru (ginger, baby) and one named Haku (green, evil?) Which confuses me an unreasonable amount. I already mentioned I wanted a serious Taiga vs Haku love triangle... but Taiga vs Haru would just be silly. You have MC who loves anomalous animals and hanging out in Jabberwock and Taiga who hates emotional intimacy and his feelings for MC just as much as he hates the idea of you being with anyone else. And of all people why Harry? He thought they were friends... or cool at least even if he won't let him eat that chinchilla thing. And now he's got MC playing defense for it too, it's irritating. He already has to fight himself to remember who you are every time he sees you again and go through the annoyance of recognizing he's a bit in love and now he can't even break into the animal sanctuary without tripping over himself and paying attention to you instead. It's annoying and it's all Haru's fault for having everything he wants. (If you ask he'll say that complaint is about Peekaboo but Haru and Romeo know it's not.) Haru is just trying to get some help from a trusted friend he's so stressed out ;-;
Sho vs Jin- Sho and his excuses... he doesn't want to just invite you to hang out and he doesn't want to ask you to come help him with the food truck because you've got so much else to do. You deserve a chance to rest, and he wants to be who you come to do that with. But Jin... he'd make that so much easier if it was him wouldn't he? He's rich and connected, and you're so sweet he's sure you could thaw that frozen heart enough for him to see you as human and not a gopher. Sho knows you, the moment he started paying attention to you he saw you as a person. But he still hurt you... and Jin didn't really do that did he? Jin doesn't like Sho because he's in Vagastrom and he doesn't trust him with your safety. Sho might see a rival and a better option, but what he's really dealing with is MC's disapproving dad who can't stand that their boyfriend has a leather jacket and a motorbike. He bets he's got tattoos and an arrest record too doesn't he MC, Jin is judging you so hard.
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Steve always tells people "I love you" before saying bye to them. Maybe it's the years of Upside Down trauma, worrying that these words could be his last. Maybe it's the fact his parents never say it before leaving (if they even bothered to say anything to him at all). Maybe it's because each time his parents were away he thinks that this might be the time they never come back, and he isn't even sure if they love him. Maybe it's due to his years of King Steve, hurting others more than loving.
It doesn't really matter though, the why. What matters is that Steve has made it his mission to always do it before his goodbyes (especially after round three of the Upside Down). Always making sure to even say a quick "Love you! Bye!" as he is rushing out the door.
At first, everyone is a bit put off by it. Especially Nancy who at first thought it was a love confession until Steve turns to Jonathan and says the exact same thing. The kids think he's being gross and mushy, even an exasperated "mommmm" is thrown in his direction every once in and while. Robin is the only one who is receptive to it right away. A soft, "love you too dingus" she says to him, no matter if they are attached to the hip or in a screaming match that day.
Eventually, though, everyone accepts this as Steve's new normal. Gentle smiles, light snorts, and bruising punches (thanks max) are the responses given. But then after round four of the Upside Down, everyone seems to now embrace this part of Steve. Never forgetting to say "I love you too" in return.
Steve's heart comes a little closer to healing each time.
Steve only begins to realize it's a problem though when it comes to Eddie.
Steve finds that Eddie is the only one he has to resist saying it to. See, Steve over the years has become better at providing verbal affection. Note, his "I love you's" had blossomed into "I am proud of you" and "I'm worried about you" and so much more. He has grown out of the years of repressed emotion (well, he was actively learning to at least).
What Steve hasn't gotten better at is touch. Steve yearns for it, craves it in fact, but can't find it in him to reach out. His fear of rejection is too great. And Steve's friends don't really give out touch to those who don't actively seek it.
Eddie though may be the touchiest person he has ever met. It's small stuff at first.
A shoulder brush.
A clap on the back.
A poke in the ribs.
But then it soon turns into bigger stuff.
A boop on the nose.
A tug at his hair.
A goddamn hug from behind.
It's overwhelming, it's intoxicating. Steve can't really tell if it's good or bad for his health. And Steve knows if he asks Eddie to stop he will. Despite his touchy tendencies, the guy understood boundaries. But the problem is that Steve doesn't want him to stop.
The problem is that Eddie's constant physical affection is starting to collide with Steve's need to express verbal affection. The problem is Eddie is starting to fill the rest of the void in his heart. The problem is Steve...
The problem is Steve has to stop himself from expressing his normal "I love you's" because he knows it will mean something different, something more this time. He knows everyone will notice the difference after their years of hearing him say it.
So, Steve never says it to Eddie.
It's no biggie really. Or so Steve thinks until Eddie corners him in the kitchen during one of their game nights.
"Steve, do you...do you have a problem with me?" Eddie asks shyly, staring down at his boots. It was an odd look on him as Eddie was normally larger than life, commanding a room. It hurt Steve to see him like this.
"What? Why would you think that?" Steve asks shocked.
"Not really a no, Harrington." Eddie chuckles darkly, "And don't think I didn't notice but you kinda have a hangup about saying I love you to everyone except me. And ya know, I wouldn't really be offended really if it was cause we haven't known each other very long and ya know, cause I'm a guy. But then, I see you saying it to Argyle. Real easily in fact. And it wouldn't bother me if it was because we weren't close, but Stevie—" Eddie's voice cracks a little, as he slips into his nickname for Steve. Steve knows now, how serious Eddie is being. "—you've gotten to know me better than anyone in this whole stupid state. And that's including Wayne. Hell, you might even be my best friend even though I'm not yours. I'm not delusional I know no one can knock Robin from that spot." Eddie is rambling so hard that he gives Robin a run for her money. Steve thinks for a moment, that the two have been spending too much time together.
Steve stays silent as he walks towards Eddie to stand directly in front of him. Eddie continues without noticing. "Then I worry, it's because maybe. Maybe it's because you found out that I am gay. And that, you had a problem with that. That you have a problem with me." Eddie's voice starts off shaky but then turns into steel as he finishes. He makes sure to keep direct eye contact with Steve, driving his point.
Steve first thinks, wait Eddie's gay? Then Steve processes everything, panics, and loses his filter completely. Throws his worry about losing his best friend (don't tell Robin, but she's his soulmate so she'll forgive him) out the window, and throws his heart on the table instead. "Jesus, no Eds. I—shit. It's not that at all. Like I don't care about that stuff. You know that. I love Robin regardless."
Eddie gives him a look that screams, we both know why it's different. Steve pushes forwards anyway. "And it's not that I don't want to say it to you. It's just, it's different okay. Like with everyone else, I don't have to worry about it being bullshit. And god that sounds bad, but I don't know how else to say it. And I just know if I say it, if I say it you'll just know it's different, and then you'll hate me and it's one thing for the others to not say it back at first, but I think it might kill me if you didn't. And that's not fair to put that pressure on you." God, now Steve could give Robin a run for her money.
"Sweetheart—"
Steve cuts him off, he knows if he doesn't say it now he won't say it all. "God Eddie if you knew how much I cared—if you knew how much I worried every time you leave. If you knew how much I worry about how I don't say it to you when you leave, how I might not ever get to say it, it would terrify you, Eddie. This isn't a normal amount of affection. This is like—what's the word—astronomical amounts of affection. Cause Eddie, it takes everything in me every single time you walk away to not say I. Love. You."
Steve hears it, how he says it. He knows how it's going to sound before it comes out. How it's different. How it's more. Steve closes his eyes in shame.
Eddie's hand cups Steve's cheek. "Baby."
The hush, but the firm tone makes Steve open his eyes. Eddie has gotten so close they are breathing the same air. Steve's heart stutters.
"Baby," Eddie says again, before giving Steve the one affectionate touch he hasn't gotten yet.
A kiss.
A soft, heartstopping kiss. A kiss that has Steve's soul bursting at the seams.
Steve leans his forehead against Eddie's, feeling content for the first time in weeks. Knowing this was Eddie's way of saying it back.
Though, the delicate "I love you too." that Eddie whispers against Steve's lips doesn't hurt either.
Not even a little bit.
—
sometimes I set out to write a quick little thing…and sometimes that little thing turns into a big thing. enjoy :)
p.s. I apologize if there are any tense changes, I wrote this at 1 am lol
#steddie#ficlet#say I love you before you go#steddie fanfic#steddie writing#my writing#ao3#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#robin buckley#the party#stranger things#ways to say i love you#physical touch#words of affirmation#love langauges#steve x eddie
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How does each of the main aeiwam cast react to spiders?
Ichigo: "...Why's my leg itchyyYEAUGH! DAMMIT!" *scoops spider up in piece of paper, opens window and throws it out* "OUTSIDE! SHOO! I hate it when they sneak up and on me...
Orihime: Had an intense close personal friendship with a Joro Spider that had made it's web on her apartment balcony when she was six. It's death at the end of summer was her first real experience with mortal loss, and she mourned it for weeks. She still recalls "Joro-San" fondly.
Uryuu: Secretly dreams of Spiders large enough to spin actual ropes of silk- the stuff is a marvel of chemical engineering, and would be incredibly useful to him as a Doctor or Fashion Designer. He feels like the difficulty of harvesting Spidersilk is the main thing holding back a Golden age of Humanity, and is disturbed to find out he shares ANY opinion with Mayuri Kurotsuichi.
Tatsuki: Paralyticly Phobic of spiders. Understands and appreciates their importance in the ecosystem, knows they can't hurt her and that the phobia is an irrational reflex, and even thinks some of them 'look cool as hell'. The second there's a live one in her presence, she locks up and can't move until someone removes it. (Usually Ichigo, because Orihime will just stare at it, fascinated).
Chad: Has a Pet Kitchen Spider. thought about shooing flies in it's direction, then felt bad for the flies.
Kon: Is a cat, hunts them, and will have nuanced discussions about how different spiders taste with Yuzu, the one person who will tolerate that analysis.
Keigo: Screams theatrically and jumps away and into someone's arms if they're there, but that's just how he reacts to anything that startles him.
Mizuiro: Fascinated by them, will stare at them with Orihime and tell her fun facts about Joro-Gumo Yokai and other lore, which delights her to no end.
Yoruichi: Like Kon, enjoys toying with them before eating them.
Urahara: Curled into the farthest corner, screaming, crying, throwing up, and begging Yoruichi to STOP FUCKING AROUND AND GET RID OF IT!
Rukia: *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling on top of her hair* "...what Spider?"
(Seireitei Squad Under The Cut)
Yamamoto: Utterly fails to notice or care. There are so many things he's seen that are so much worse, and honestly? Even when he was a young man he didn't give a shit. He slept rough delivering messages, waking up in the dirt with half a dozen bugs on him was normal.
Sasakibe: Thinks they're delightful. So many elegant designs! Such perfect sense of when to strike! Such patience! He finds out about Diving Spiders and goes Ape Shit. THEY MAKE THEIR ON SCUBA TANKS!!
Soi Fon: Spiders are cool but not as cool as wasps and hornets :)
Omaeda: Also has a Pet Kitchen Spider, but does not feel bad about shooing flies into it's web at all.
Gin: Isn't actually sure what spiders are, or if they're even real. He's seeing sixteen dimensions at once, something that minuscule gets lost in the noise. Still thinks that someone Screaming "SPIDER!" and everyone flailing around in fear or suddenly attacking the walls and furniture is a social game like "The Floor Is Lava"
Rose: Thinks they're cool right up until they're in his personal space and then they are VERY SCARY.
Izuru: Was the designated spider-wrangler for the third from the first day he transferred in, because everyone else is a huge bitch about them. he plays it cool, but he's actually creeped out by the really big ones.
Unohana: Spiders are garden Friends :) often heard verbally encouraging them to destroy her garden pests with calls of "GET HIS ASS!" coming from the Hydrangeas.
Isane: Everyone is sort of surprised how chill Isane is about dealing with spiders- even Yamada's Actually Dangerous Specimens- and she shrugs and tells them that she deals with more dangerous things every day, especially over in Pharmacology. It keeps the focus off the Bug she's actually terrified of: Butterflies.
Hanataro: Do Not Ask The Head Of Toxicology And 11th Division Pocket Medic About Spiders Unless You Are Prepared For A Seven-Hour Lecture With A Pop Quiz At The End.
Aizen: HUGE fan of Spiders. What splendid creatures- look at how carefully the spider selects the anchor points of it's web, the skillfulness with which it weaves. Such incredible patience, waiting for the lines of tension it's woven to snare it's game- though I suppose such patience is easier when the fly's capture is inevitable >:)
Shinji and Hiyori: *Screaming and flailing, hitting things at random (mostly each other) in a blind panic, because they share a braincell and that cell is TERRIFIED of spiders* "It's so fast!" "It was huge! It had to be a tarantula!" "We should burn the division down, just to be sure."
Momo: Escorted the little garden spider outside in a cup like ten minutes ago, and forgot about it because that's such a routine chore, and she was having a more important phone call at the time.
Byakuya: Rarely notices spiders, but sometimes one will scuttle across his desk and he'll stop to watch it for the seven minutes it takes to actually cross his desk with a neutral expression, before resuming whatever he was doing. It's a pleasant diversion for him, not unlike watching the koi fish swim around in the compound pond, and he resumes his duties feeling spiritually refreshed by that chance encounter with nature.
Renji: Not bothered by Spiders. VERY Bothered by his Boss's fucking peculiar-ass reaction to a spider wandering across his desk because to Renji, it looked like Byakuya had never actually seen a spider before and was staring at it with an expression that indicated his higher brain functions had ceased entirely. Is currently making plans to study "The Captain Kuchiki Spider Brain Glitch" by catching a bunch of spiders in a jar and releasing them into his office to see what happens.
Komamura: He's particularly fond of Jumping spiders, because they sing little songs while hunting that he can hear if it's really quiet. They're very cute. Gets very upset when people kill spiders or talk about killing them.
Iba: Not afraid of spiders but doesn't know what to do when they're in his way. Killed one in front of Komamura once when he was a little kid and Komamura was still his babysitter, Sajin gave him a huge and very upset lecture about respecting life in all it's forms... but did not actually teach Iba how to remove them. So every time he sees one he sorta stands there for a minute and hopes it will move, before yelling "BOSS!"
Shunsui: Does not want to admit how much Spiders freak him out. It's not fear, precisely- more of a disgust reaction. All bugs make his skin crawl and he understands how important they are, but can they do all that ecology stuff Far Away From Him, Please And Thank You?
Nanao: Like Unohana, reveres spiders as pest control. She takes it a step further, and actively collects Jumping Spider egg sacs as she finds them in the archives and tends to them over winter so when early spring comes, she can release several hundred thousand spiderlings into the archives to destroy the mites, bookworms, moth larvae and other archive pests before they can get a foothold. She usually does this while dumping out the entire terrarium and cackling manically.
Lisa: Immediately joins in on Nanao's Spider Propagation Project, much to Shunsui's horror.
Tousen: If there is a sudden shriek and burst of profanities and hexes in the ninth division, 90% chance it's because Kaname walked into a spider web again, his LEAST favorite texture in the Universe. Yes, including the curse nails. He'd keep them in his spine if it meant he'd never walk into another spiderweb.
Kensei: Often cracked open a beer while watching the evening news during his exile in the living world. Sometimes it was several beers, or something stronger if he'd had a rough day. One night, it was a bottle of Fireball as he watched the news, and felt too intoxicated to change the channel from the newshour, so he kept watching when PBS Nature came on, and damn near pissed himself laughing when he saw the Peacock Spider's Mating Dance. Full on Howling, tears streaming down his face, barely able to breathe, Pterodactyl-noises laughing. Nothing has been funnier before or since to him, so now whenever he sees a spider he starts guffawing and stop to explain WHY.
Shuuhei: Deeply confused by the fact spiders keep coming indoors. "Why are you all here?" he asks, doing a cobweb patrol with the broom before his boss gets back from the inter-division meeting. "What are you eating? Crumbs? Lint? Is it Lint you eat?"
Mashiro: Has a grasshopper-type Zanpakuto who is not a fan, so she attempts to destroy any spider she sees in solidarity. Usually misses and destroys something else.
Matsumoto: Spiders are cool, but not as cool as snakes :)
Hitsugaya: Grew up on a farm, and shares Momo's total non-reactivity to them. It's even deeper, because his constant ambient chill means spiders never climb on him if they can't help it.
Zaraki: Used to agitate Yumichika and Ikkaku by eating them. Now he agitates them by wandering off the trail during 11th Division Boot Camp or other deployments and coming back with extremely dangerous ones and handing them to Hanataro "fer yer collection". The 11th Division's Pocket Medic has explained toxicology at length to him, and now Zaraki thinks of various medicines as "Spider Pills" and "Scorpion Juice".
Yachiru: Still eats spiders. She's the sole exception to the Wrath of Komamura, because there is no malice or fear in her actions- it's perfectly natural and morally upstanding Carnivory. The rest of you are being irrational and jerks.
Ikkaku: Sometimes regrets his life choices when he sees the freak he's sworn loyalty to walk out of the trees with something venomous enough to kill half the gotei-13 with a single bite crawling over his face, then realizes that's FUCKING BADASS and is assured that he made the right choices.
Yumichika: *currently sneaking up behind Ikkaku with a fake spider on a string to affectionately terrorize him*
Mayuri: Unlike Uuryu, Mayuri isn't a Weenie, and he's making his dreams of Milkable Spiders the Size of Cattle a reality.
Nemu: Helping with that. This one is hers. She named it #47, after it's designation, Specimen Number 47.
Ukitake, *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling across his forehead* "...There's a spider in here?"
#Bleach#bleach fanfiction#AEIWAM#an elephant is warm and mushy#Spiders#some people are more chill than others#and some are straight up failing perception checks
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Slytherin boys as gamer bfs and what games they would play with their significant other?
Gamers >:) | Slytherin Boys
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: cock fighting, animal cruelty, gambling, threats (these are all for fucking tom bc ofc it is...) - suicide joke (mattheo)
contains :: draco, tom. mattheo, theodore, lorenzo
notes :: im ngl idk half of these games in depth - i just heard and seen the sterotypes of these games - fps = first person shooter, dbh = detroit become human, abg = asian baby girl, bow = breathe of the wild ||
DRACO MALFOY sims 4 / roblox
This man sucks ass at gaming, he literally can't do it
His aim is shit, he screams when he's in a fight, and he rage quits the second he loses
So he has to stick to girly games
He has so many mods and cc for sims that it's insane
His pc runs like it's on life support because of this, pls save that poor computer
And he likes playing roblox too sometimes
But he doesn't even play the normal games
Bro plays Dress To Impress and Maple Hospital...
Like what the fuck are you doing there??? Go on BloxFruits or smth man
What's even worse is he eats EVERYONEEE up in Dress to Impress, he literally always top 3
And when he isn't top 3, he curses and swears but it doesn't go through cause tags
He literally cannot do obbys either oh my fucking god
You know that one meme of Sadness from Inside Out dropping her popcorn and someone quote-tweets it saying, "Damn she can't do anything"
That's exactly who Draco is when it comes to gaming
TOM RIDDLE dark web gambling / elden ring
Oh my fucking God this guy can't have a normal hobby ever
He doesn't game at all,,, literally just gambling bruh
He hosts illegal gambling rings online and even host some in the school basement
One time he even hosted an illegal cock ring fight...
Yes,,, he stole the chickens from Hagrid and made them fight....
He even used magic to give them powers like pokemon....
He made a fucking WATER chicken and FIRE chicken fight
Thank god he didn't actually let them kill each other, he just did it until one was near death
But back to gambling - he also manipulates people in so many ways
He casts a spell that silently chants "go all in, go all in" so it subconsciously makes people bet more
Bro even gets some students in DEBT!?!?! Like how tf did you do that and WHYYY would you do that
If someone doesn't come down to the basement in a while to gamble,,, then Tom will fix that
Besides illegal gamlbing...
He plays Elden Ring, which is pretty normal
Besides the fact that he BEAT THAT SHIT IN LIKE 2 DAYS?!!??!!?
Normally streamers, pro gamers, they all take weeks and sometimes even months just to make progress
But Tom is just,,, just better ig?
So yeah... He sticks to gambling cause every other game is just too easy for him
MATTHEO RIDDLE gta V / fortnite / rocket league / nba 2k24
God this guy is the worst sterotypical middle school boy ever
He even had the ugly ass big blue headset with the shit mic on it
Plays GTA V every now and then, only when he's angry
That's when he goes around town and just beats the shit out of everyone
Likes playing Fortnite for hours on end with his friends, mostly Theo and Lorenzo cause they can actually keep up with him (Draco is ass at FPS and
Plays rocket league and NBA 2k24 because of fucking course he does - look at him....
He's just a boy....
A really toxic one.....
Definitely screams "KILL YOURSELFFFFF!!!!!!" if he loses and honestly he's kinda real for that
THEODORE NOTT god of war / detroit become human
Loves games that have a long story
It's a good mix of story and fighting, he can't really get into pure FPS games
Have done most routes in DBH and even found easter eggs and hacks
Tries to get you into the lore as well but sometimes it goes so deep you get confused
"NO!!! Connor in route 8 is actually a pretty neutral guy and he's-"
Like bro what??? Why do you know everything about this "Connor" guy??? smh
He dabbles in some FPS sometimes, like playing Fortnite with Matt and Enzo
And he actually REALLY good
Has great aim and precision
But he just can't get into it for some reason, it's not his type
LORENZO BERKSHIRE valorant / zelda breath of the wild
I feel like Enzo playing Valorant makes so so sooo much sense
He's not AS toxic as the other guys, but he's still weird and fuck-boy-ish in his own way
Definitely plays with e-girls and tries to bag an ABG
But he gets catfished....
He's pretty good at Valorant, surprisingly
His mic stays on for every single game... Even if no one else is talking
This man will talk to a fucking wall and still be yapping
"Okay guys way I need to pee" ...
There's only bots in his server.........
He also loves RPG games and stuff like that
So BOW is perfect for him to shut off his mind and just roam and do useless tasks
#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x#mattheo riddle x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#harry potter#harry potter x reader#gaming#slytherin headcanons#harry potter headcanon
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they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.
but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.
you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.
you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.
you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.
it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."
in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.
someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.
you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).
you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)
and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this
but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.
you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.
#writeblr#this is far too long#sjw bullshit#idk i MEANT to write about somethng else completely and if i have time i will#about like . how if ur gay this is even more obvious#bc they like. hi ur 3 now where is ur boyfriend#and ur like. :) good news mother i have activated the lasers in my plush dog and he is dancing in the guts of my barbie
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chapped lips - seattle! ellie x wlf reader
summary - you’re kinda new to the wlf and when your group gets taken out by scars, you’re left alone… at least that’s what you thought until a girl knocks you unconscious and holds you hostage.
wk - 5k
additional tags - revenge! ellie, interrogation play, canon game violence, blood! mention, gun play, name calling, mean! ellie, rough lesbian sex, fingering (e! and reader both receiving) humping?, reader! is a little off her rockers bc she me fr, use of the word daddy (im sorry), degrading (e! to reader), thigh riding, name calling (crazy bitch, slut, whore), this is literally canon seattle! ellie in all her glory, no physical description of reader
It don't know how it happened. I was supposed to go to my post and take out any scars that I came across. Basically, it was suppose to be a normal, average day. I got up at the usual time, ate what I normally would eat before heading out and hell.. I was even was with the usual group that I was always working with. Posted up in a less trafficked area had us comfy, cocky even. My group had their guards down. Me included. Sneaky assholes got the high ground on us.
I don't know if I was the only one who made it. In the chaos of guns firing, arrows flying and the screams of my people being slaughtered, I had ducked into a building in downtown Seattle. Up until now I didn't even know this building was here since we never bothered to send anyone out this far from base.
"Fuck." I take a deep breath, steadying the gun I clutched in my hands. I draw it, pointing it towards the front door and windows that lined up facing the street. I scan with my gun looking for anything really. Scars, anyone from my group that may have survived. Any movement at all but it was silent. Bodies littered the street. I recognize a comrades body that laid lifeless on a hood of a rusted taxi.
I can't stay here. I thought to myself, cowering behind a counter still squeezing the pistol in my hands.
"C'mon. You got this." I take a few deep breaths to gain to courage to get the fuck out of there. I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment when a slight squeak of the linoleum floor alerted me. I snap my head to the direction of the noise. A flash of color and something came down heavy on my head then everything went black.
"Hey-"
Was I dreaming?
"Wake up."
Who's voice is that? Did I dream the whole thing? I am waking up for the first time and my whole grouped didn't just get killed in front of me.
*slap*
My eyes fly open and my head is pounding. I blink repeatedly trying to take in the surroundings. It didn't look like my barracks room. My cheek began to sting and I go to touch it, but I couldn't.
"About time."
I follow the voice looking up. It was a girl. A girl I didn't recognize.
"What? who'r you?" I groan in agony. My head felt like it was going to explode and my wrists started to go numb. I look up to my hands that were cuffed to a drawer above me. Skin red around where the metal was digging in. This definitely wasn't a dream.
"Where's Abby?" She knelt down in front of me using a bat to steady herself. Her voice was raspy, demanding and didn't sound like she was looking to make a friend.
"Who?" My voice went up a pitch from annoyance. Who the fuck is this girl and why the fuck is she holding me hostage.
"Don't play dumb. Abby Anderson. She's one of you." She takes her index finger and moves it up to the patch on my jacket.
"You think I know every wolf? There's fucking hundreds of us." I shove my shoulder into her hand, forcing her touch away.
"For your sake you should probably think a little harder." She stood and hovered over me, adjusting the grip on the bat she was wielding.
"Or?- What? You're going to kill me?" I let out a humorless chuckle. I furrow my brows at her, puffing out my chest trying to come off as intimidating even if I was the one restrained.
"It's your last chance." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her knuckles turning white from her firm grip on the bat.
"Fuck you." I spat. Yanking on cuffs, but it didn't help. I felt the stinging around my wrist intensify and a warm trickle down my arm. I didn't know why I was fighting anymore. I didn't want to be apart of the this group in the first place but they had guns and food, things necessary to survive and I wanted to keep living. It felt like it was going to be cut short anyways when I notice her bring the bat over her head and throw it down towards my face.
"WAIT!" I flinch and scream just before it could make contact causing her to pause. I take a few deep, shaky breaths as she crouched down in front of me once again.
"You said Abby... Blonde hair? Works out a lot?" Too scared to make eye contact I keep my eyes fixated on the girls shoes. Dirty converse that were worn and stained with blood.
"Where." She wasn't asking she was demanding. Her tone was sharp and cold which made me flinch.
"No- no one has seen her since yesterday..." a tremble could be heard in my voice. I shut my eyes and brace for the wood. Either she's not going to believe me and kill me or it wasn't what she'd want to hear and kill me.
"Bull-fucking-shit." She chucked lightly but it wasn't out of humor.
"It's the truth. She left without permission yesterday and hasn't come back." I gain the courage to look in her eyes and stand my ground. Hoping that she'd just believe me and let me go.
She stood, pacing back in forth dragging the bat behind her.
"Please- just let me go.... I won't say anything. I'll just pretend-" I was cut off by the shattering of glass. I got on my feet and peek over the counter at the front windows. Familiar whistles and people in homemade leather jackets start to flank the building.
"Fuck me." The girl cursed under her breath, taking cover behind a shelving unit a few feet from me.
"Unlock it." I demanded. Pulling at the cuffs.
"Fuck no. You'll just kill me as soon as you get the chance." She held her pistol firming by the side of her head, peaking around the shelves. A arrow flew past her, missing by a few centimeters.
"No... I'll help kill these fuckers and then I'll try to kill you." My patience was wearing thin and she seemed to appreciate the honesty. She readied herself, taking a few steps back and then running across the open fire, sliding herself next to me.
"Don't move."
"Wait- why?-" I was cut off by the sound her gun firing and I felt a burning sensation in between my wrists. I felt my hands free from the awkward position.
"Give me my gun." I held my hand out, peaking over the counter in a frenzied state. She hesitates making me look at her in frustration. My eyes widen in a 'what the fuck are you doing' kind of way.
"We kill these fuckers first. Yeah?" She raised her brows at me with a nod. I roll my eyes at her and huff.
"Oh my fucking god-" I was cut off by the sound of more glass shattering and gun fire, casing me to flinch.
She slapped down the weapon in my open palm and give me a look of 'you ready?' and I nod back to her.
She fires gun shots at the entrance as I make it over to the other side of the building. I keep myself concealed, ducking and sliding behind furniture as I try to take them by surprise. I find a broken window and jump out of it and take cover behind the same taxi except now blood poured from the hood. I peak from behind the car and take aim at a scar that was further behind the rest. I steady my hand and shoot casing him to go down. The sound of my gun alerting another one. He aims his rifle at me, but it was too late I let another bullet fire, hitting him in the chest. The girl who was once my captor was now my partner for the time being. She proved herself useful and skilled. She'd taken out a few that were closest to the building, making more flood the front which just made it easier for me.
The sound of gun firing had stopped, leaving the sound of wind that rustled the trash in the streets. I scan the street and slowly start to stand up from behind the car when I felt a hand throw me backwards by my hair.
"AH!" I scream, trying to pry the hands from my scalp. A large man with a machete crawled on top of me. I reach for my gun that fell to my side but he tosses it out of reach. I hit and claw at the bald man's face which made him put his knees on my arms, leaving me completely helpless against his strength.
"Such a pretty little thing." The man sneers and I felt him wrap his hands around my throat. I gasp and flail trying to loosen myself from him, but I couldn't. He squeezed harder and harder, making my vision go blurry and I heard ringing in my ears. It started to go dark again but I heard one last *pop* and the tension around my neck relaxed. I gasp and cough, not really sure what happened. I felt warm liquid pool down my neck in chest. I look down to see the now dead man partially on top of me, open wound to the back of his head. I push him off and crawl out from underneath him.
"What the fuck is wrong with these people." I continue to try and catch my breath, wiping away the blood splatter and sweat off of my face.
"You're welcome."
My state of adrenaline induced shock was interrupted by the girls voice. I turn to her in disbelief that one: she killed somebody to save me and two: she had the nerve to crack a joke right now.
"I didn't ask for your help." I pick my gun off of the ground, shoving it into the waist of my jeans.
"Oh? So you wanted him to kill you?" She sounded annoyed that I didn't kiss her feet for the favor.
"What does it matter? You're going to kill me anyways!" I throw my hands up as my voice grew louder. I hear her sigh and suck her teeth. I didn't understand her. She was fully intended on bashing my head open, but then she had a change of heart and saves me?
"If you're done here can we get this over with?" I snap at her and start to walk back into the building.
"Not here. Not safe anymore."
I paused briefly, confused by her words. 'Not safe anymore' what does that matter if you're just going to kill me?
I follow her a few blocks away making sure to hang a few feet back. I would be so easy to shoot her right now and she'd have no idea. I should shoot her. I mean she knocked me unconscious, cuffed me and threatened to kill me. It's clear she has issues with the WLF and specifically this Abby chick. Whatever it is, I don't care. I have my own personal beef with the WLF and this girl she's looking for isn't my friend or anyone special to me so maybe that's why I didn't shoot her.
"Seriously where the fuck are we going?" I break the silence and my voice echoed throughout the street.
"Somewhere secure." She answered but continued to look straight ahead.
We continued to walk for another half hour or so, the only noise was the sound of our feet shuffling pebbles and debris that littered the roads.
"How much further?" My agitation grew with each passing minute. Growing more anxious that I had no idea what this girl plans to do with me.
"Stop bitching. We're here." She stopped in her place making me almost run into her.
I look up at the sign on the front of the building that read 'Pinnacle Theater' and scoffed.
"Is now the best time to watch a movie?"
"It's safe." She snapped, turning back to shoot me a glare.
Safe? Safe from what? The only thing that's a threat to my safety right now is her so why did she bring me here?
"Whatever." I roll my eyes and follow her into the building.
I take in the surroundings of the theater. The large burgundy curtains that hung on the walls gave it a gaudy, over the top feel. Once fancy chairs and couches were now coated in a thick layer of dust and mildew. My attention to the interior of the large room was diverted to a rattling behind me.
"What are you doing?" I furrow my brows at her in confusion as she was putting the legs of a chair in between the handles of the doors.
"Do you want more of those assholes showing up?" She spit back, sounding annoyed that I had the audacity to question her. I roll my eyes once again at her attitude, crossing my arms over chest in a way to shield myself.
"Sit." The seriousness of her tone snapped me out of thoughts and caused me to look at her. Her brows were slightly furrowed and her jaw was tense, making her bone structure more defined than it already was. I was scared of her so I obeyed, slowly lowering myself on a nearby couch while keeping my eyes on her. If she was going to make a move I didn't want to be caught off guard.
"Where's Abby?" She took a few steps closer to me and maintained a hateful stare.
"I told you... she left."
I watch her face contort from my words. The slight flare of her nostrils and the curl of her lip made my heart start to pound faster. She started to pace again... forward a few steps and turning around and doing the same, repeating her movements. A fuse was being snapped the longer I watched her, a switch within that was half-way being flipped. She stopped her pacing and lunged at me, whipping out her pistol out of her back pocket to point it at my face.
"Where?" Her voice became course and there was a slight tremble.
"Pl-please.... I told you already. I've just joined the WLF a few months ago... I don't know anything." I flinch. Breaking the eye contact turning my face away, squeezing my eyes shut.
I hear her take a quick breath and then the cocking of her gun. I let out a whimper, squeezed my eyes even tighter and braced for what's to come.
"Fuck-" She breathed heavily and I hear her take a few steps back lowering her gun. I timidly open my eyes and watch her as she sits on the ground. Her head hung low in between her legs that were propped up. Her hand was still clutched around the handle of her gun but I noticed the tremble of her free hand. She breathed heavily, slowly like she was trying to sooth herself. The tough act that she put on up until this point was now crumbling beneath her feet.
I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanting to flee and another part of me wanted to comfort her which confused me. I don't know her and our first time meeting each other wasn't really all that pleasant, but she was hurting and that was something that I could connect with. I hear her sniffle and she quickly goes to wipe the tears.
"Hey-" I start to get up but was rudely stopped by her pointing her gun as she stood and took a few steps back.
"I-I'm not going to hurt you if you don't hurt me." I held my hands up high for her to see as I slowly reach into my waistband as she followed my movements with her gun. The sound of mental hitting the carpeted floor bounced off the walls. Maybe I'm trusting her too much by discarding the only weapon I had to defend myself, but I felt like she didn't want to hurt me she just felt like she had no other choice.
"See?" I lower my hands back down to my side as she looked at me with confusion, the grip on her weapon tightening.
"You think I won't?" She took a few strides forward, now leaving me at arm's length with only a few inches between the tip of her gun and my chest. My teeth clench and I break out in a cold sweat.
"No. I don't." I take a small step forward allowing her gun to dig into my chest. I felt coldness of the barrel through my clothes. My breath hitched and a shudder ran up my spine. The girl looked at me in disbelief, glancing at my partly opened lips and the contact of her gun.
"You're fucking crazy." She chuckled lowly.
"Maybe." I whispered as I tilt my head to the side. We stood in this position for what felt like hours but in reality probably only a few seconds had gone by. I noticed her breathing pick up as she fixed her eyes on the cleavage that poured out the top of my low cut shirt. A realization hit me when I noticed what she was looking at. She was turned on by what she saw. I didn't know if it was simply because she found me attractive or the whole holding me at gunpoint and at her mercy was just a fucked up kink of hers.
Getting a closer look at her face she was quite beautiful, handsome almost. Bright green eyes framed by dark long lashes, freckles dispensed unevenly across her face, full lips that had a scar that ran through the top corner and how her dark auburn hair was tied up messily in a half up- half down style. Her sharpe bone structure making her seem more masculine and how she carried herself was much more of a man. She was a type of girl I hardly came across and she was exactly my type.
I grab her gun slowly and push it down and to my surprise she didn't retaliate. I take one last step forward until we are chest to chest. I didn't realize it before, but she is much taller than me. She could easily overpower me and I just hoped it didn't come down to that. I subconsciously bit down on my lip as I look at her parted mouth, I felt her breath brush against my own.
"What are you doing?" She breathed, leaning in slightly looking perplexed.
"If you're not going to kill me then what else are we going to do?" I blink wide-eyed at her, cocking my head slightly as a whininess took over my voice. The corner of her lips tugged up into a devilish smirk.
Her hand gripped tightly on arm, forcing me backwards. She pushed me down on the couch, pining my back against it as she got on top and straddled my legs.
"You really are fucking crazy." She gritted through her teeth before I felt her lips clash against mine. Her lips were chapped and felt rough against my own. The aggression and desperation of her kiss caused me to moan as her tongue slipped into my mouth. I felt fingers tips drag over my thin fabric top before she squeezed my breast harshly.
"Fuck-" I break the kiss, looking at her through half hooded eyes. I was panting looking up at the girl as she looked down on me with hunger. I felt a heat building in my core making my decision making fuzzy. I roll my head to the side and noticed her hand still holding onto her gun. Dark green-blue ink that came together into a delicate looking drawing covered almost her entire forearm.
Her fingers were long and small cuts and scrapes covered them. I imagined what she would feel like inside of me which caused a small whine to leave my lips. Maybe I am crazy...because why the fuck am I having these thoughts when she is holding a gun this close to my head all the while making out with me? She glanced to where I was looking and caught me deep in my thoughts.
"Does this turn you on? Huh?" She lifted her hand that held the weapon and swayed it in front of my face, almost in a way of trying to shame me.
A whimper escaped my lips unintentionally and a deep-rooted desire was coming to the surface. I don't know if it was the stress or how attracted I was to her, but being scared of her just made me all the more aroused.
"You're so fucked up." She humiliates me like she was on a power trip as she pressed the tip of the gun to my temple. My body shudders as I felt the icy metal brush against my skin.
"Pl-please..." I whine at her, begging her to do something about the heat building in my pussy. I squeeze my thighs together underneath her as tears start to form in my eyes.
"Please what? Use your words princess." She kissed slowly at my neck.
"Touch me." I breathe out, my voice trembling.
I hear a giggle and her breath in my neck.
"Name's Ellie. Use it." She sternly demanded. Her voice rough and almost hoarse.
"Ellie- I need you t-to touch me." My hips started to grind the air, desperate for some sort of friction.
"Good girl." I felt her teeth dig into my neck before lifting herself back up to look down at me. She kept her eyes on my own as she placed her gun down, probably making sure I wouldn't try to grab it. Her hands move down to unbutton my pants and I lift my ass, allowing her to remove them completely. My breathing hitched as she cupped my pussy, gently rubbing small circles over my underwear.
"Fuuuck- you're so fucking wet for me even though I tried to kill you. You're such a crazy bitch." Her choice of words made the throbbing more intense.
I moan as I move my hips against her hand, head rolling back as I focus on getting myself off but she pulled her hand away before I could.
I watch her confused as she lifts herself off of me and then sitting back down.
"Get on top." She sounded impatient, patting her leg.
I hesitantly crawl further down the couch, lifting one leg over her thigh and holding her shoulders to steady me.
I felt her fingers wrapped behind my neck pulling me in to reconnect our lips. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth as I let out another moan. The thin fabric of my underwear, now soaked, made the ridges of her jeans more apparent.
"Mm fuck- el-lie." My hips started to rock back and forth against her leg.
"That's it. Use me, slut." She gritted, molding various parts of my exposed skin in between her fingers.
I felt her hands grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. She kissed and bit at the delicate skin between my breast, but it wasn't enough. She pulled my bra down so the straps hung off of my shoulders, leaving my chest exposed. Her mouth enveloped my nipple, sucking and then biting it gently.
"Fuuu- mmm-" Biting my lip to silence my wines as I felt goosebumps form on my exposed skin.
My hand wondered down to the button on her jeans as steadied myself with the other.
"C-can I?" I ask for permission through wet eyelashes, eyebrows furrowed upwards but was already unzipping her pants and slipping my hand inside. Her hand that harshly gripped my side came up around my throat causing me to pause. I felt her fingers squeeze around my neck but she didn't say anything. I study her expression trying to understand if she wanted me to stop. Her eyes were dark and filled with lust, lips parted as her chest rose and fell from her rapid breathing. I cautiously slipped my fingers in between her folds, feeling the slickness of her arousal.
"Fuck-" She leaned her head back against the couch and adjusted her hips, allowing me easier access. She rocked her pussy into my fingers as I did the same on her thigh. Seeing her in this submissive position and at mercy to what I was doing to her made my heat burn hotter. She must have felt the way I was watching her and switched back to her more controlling behavior, slipping her hand in my underwear.
"Mmmm-" I bit down on my lip, throwing my head back while still trying to keep my rhythm on her pussy. I dragged my cunt against her fingers. My hole dripping and coating her hand and letting her slip her finger in easily.
"Ahh... Fuck.. yes Ellie- j-just like that." I started to bounce my pussy on her finger, leaning back and grabbing the back of my calf with one hand to keep me stabilized while the other sloppily encircled her clit.
"Keep doing that baby.." She breathed heavily and her words broken while still trying to maintain her position of power, but she was weakened from my touch. Her aggressive, harsh tone was now much softer and feminine. Her whimpers and moans sounded like honey coated candies, sweet and sounded like music to my ears. Her breathing quickened and the distance between her cries were getting shorter. Her eyes squeezed shut as her head tilted back, signaling she was close.
"Fuck- I'm-" Her jaw hung open and her body tensed underneath me.
"C-cum fr' me Ellie.." I bounced lazily on her fingers, wet sloshes and strained moaning filled the room. I slowed my pace against her clit as her hips stilled and then buckled, leaving her limp for a few seconds.
Her chest rising and falling deeply as she caught her breath. She looked at me with wide eyes then shifted back to the girl I first met. Her eyes darkened and her jaw tensed, lifting herself as she held into my thigh putting me beneath her once again. I look up at her with sex drunk eyes, pulling her down to feel her chapped lips on mine. I held onto the sides of her face as we tasted each other, savoring every last drop.
"You're so f'ckn sexy baby." She panted, reaching down and rushing to tug my underwear out of her way.
"Mmm Fuuu—" I moan, bitting my bottom lip as I felt her fingers slip between my folds.
"M' not gonna go easy on you." She mumbled into my neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses behind my ear.
"G-good." My voice trembled as I felt a finger enter and a second follow shortly behind. Her pace quickened and my eyes start to fill with tears. I look up at her through wet eye lashes, pitiful and dazed. I pull her head down and kiss her deeply, moaning into her mouth.
Her fingers pounded into my cunt without mercy, leaving my body limp and unable to control myself. My moans turned to screaming as her wrist slapped against my clit with each thrust. The fingers of her free hand dug into my leg that was draped over her shoulder as she gently placed kisses to my calf.
"M' so close..." I cry out, tear stained cheeks as I study her face, her watching how my pussy takes her fingers. Her brows furrowed, her mouth hung open ever so slightly. The sweat glistened on her nose and forehead from the rigorous movements. The milky fluid of my sex coated her knuckles.
"You like it rough- huh?" She gritted through her teeth, grabbing the back of my thigh and pushing it forward, allowing the pressure to dig deeper.
"Oh- ohhh Fuuck.. y- yes daddy.. mm-" I barely can make out, eyes rolled back into my head as she fucks against my cervix.
"Be a good girl- Cum fr' daddy." Her raspy, sex driven voice ricocheted through my body. My back arched, my head fuzzy as I grabbed the couch cushion. The air was sticky and thick as my hips rolled and twitched sporadically, not being able to control my movements. I watch her through blurred vision, the silhouette of her hazy from my tear filled eyes. My jaw falls open, my eyes squeeze shut and my climax rolls throughout my body like waves. Bolts of electricity course through me causing my hips to jolt. She slows her pace against my cunt, riding me out until my body stills.
I lay motionless, body splayed out on the couch as I catch my breath. My pussy continued to throb from the sudden absence. I felt her sit down on the couch just below my propped-up knees, causing me to look down at her from my horizontal position. She examined her fingers, still wet, and brought them to her mouth.
"You taste so good baby.. I need more."
#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie tlou2#ellie the last of us#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x afab reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams smut#tlou smut#ellie tlou smut#ellie tlou fanfic#ellie williams tlou2#tlou ellie#the last of us fanfiction#ellie the last of us 2#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie williams x y/n
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Kinktober 2024 ▪ Day 10
▪ Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader
▪ Kink: Thigh Riding
▪ Genre: Smut
▪ Word Count: 2.2k
▪ Warnings: Soft!Dom Chan, Sub!Fem Reader, established relationship, teasing, thigh riding, masturbation, slight finger sucking, slight cum eating, unprotected sex
▪ Please let me know if I missed anything
Color(s) Of This Fic: Black, Slate Grey, and an Ashy Brown <3
If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this fic. This fic contains inappropriate content and is strictly 18+
Everything in not only this event, but all of my work in general is consensual. Even if not stated within the work.
Enjoy :)
If there's one random thing you've learned about Chan since the start of your relationship, it's his love for mobile games.
They're convenient for his busy schedule, and practically godsent when he has long wait times during special events, award shows, and any of his longer schedules.
You often find yourself with your head rested on his shoulder as you watch him play. Sometimes, you both just sit in comfortable silence as you watch, and other times he explains how the game works, and shows you his favorite aspects of each. You enjoy listening to him explain the details of the games, and he updates you regularly on his accomplishments and milestones within them all.
It's a bit of a wholesome thing between you two, and even though he'll never tell you, Chan adores how invested you are in the things he enjoys, even if it is just a game on his phone.
Now, it's rare for you to find yourself irritated with Chan in any way, but sometimes, it happens. Today is one of Chan's rare off days, and while you want him to spend the day doing whatever his heart desires, you can't help but feel slightly annoyed with just how much time he's spent on his phone.
In all honesty, you feel a bit ridiculous for being annoyed over something so simple and normal within your relationship. Especially since Chan has already spent a majority of his day off with you, but after sitting next to him, pressed into his side with your head rested on his muscular shoulder as you watched his fingers glide swiftly across his screen for two and a half hours, you can't help but feel needy.
For a moment, you question why something that you do all the time is affecting you as drastically as it is, but you quickly decide not to question your body and what it craves, especially considering who it is that your body is craving.
You thought stepping away from him for a bit would shake the growing desire for him, setting off to clean up the kitchen instead of staying pressed into him, but it doesn't. You can smell his cologne on your clothes, and you can still hear his laugh from where you're standing, and you have to fight the urge to pounce on him with every noise he makes.
You eventually give up on cleaning anything, walking back into the living room to sit next to Chan again. Your eyes rake over his bare arms, scanning the expanse of skin from his shoulders, all the way down to his hands. You watch the way his fingers move, pressing your thighs together when he furiously taps on the screen.
"Channie?" You gently call out, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from his hands.
"Hm?" He hums out in response, turning his head only slightly in your direction, but never averting his gaze from his phone screen.
"You almost done?" You ask, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when you catch sight of the veins that start at his wrist and trail up to the bend of his arm.
"Yea, baby, just let me finish this game and I'm all yours." He answers, resting his head against the back of the couch as he waits for the game to load.
"Okay," you lightly sigh out, wanting to scream at his choice of words.
You sink into the couch, patiently waiting next to him while he finishes his game. Soon enough, one game turns into five, and after repeated words of this being his last game and another hour going by, you're tired of waiting and ready to march into your shared room to take care of yourself while Chan's eyes stay glued to his phone screen.
He hears you let out a sigh laced with annoyance, one that you truly couldn't keep to yourself anymore, and his eyes immediately dart towards you as you stand up from your spot on the couch. His right hand is quick to gently wrap around your wrist, guiding you to sit on his lap as he mumbles out apologies.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't realize how much time has gone by." He apologizes, feeling you lean into his chest as your chin rests on his shoulder. "I'm almost done with this game."
You let out a groan at his words, nestling into his neck as you finally realize the position you're currently in. You're straddling one of Chan's muscular thighs, your core pressed directly onto the plush, yet firm skin. The pressure against your needy core makes the gentle throb between your legs almost unbearable, and you shift just slightly in Chan's lap as a subtle attempt to ease the feeling.
You quickly realize how sensitive this desperation for your boyfriend has made you when just that subtle shift is enough for your breath to hitch. The shift was only enough to give you a slight taste of what you've been craving for hours, and now, you can't stop your hips from moving desperately against the muscle of Chan's thigh.
You can feel Chan's head turn to look at you, and even with your eyes closed you can see his wide-eyed expression that eventually fades into a smirk. He watches you for a moment as the gears turn in his head, and once they do, he lets his phone fall from his hand to the surface of the couch.
Breathy moans tumble past your lips at the friction, and Chan's quick to grip at your hips to help guide you along his thigh.
"Is this why my baby's been so irritated?" Chan's voice is low and slightly husky when he asks you the question, and all he gets in response is a nod as you pull him into a heated kiss.
You can feel Chan's fingertips drag along the hem of your oversized shirt, and you break the kiss to let him pull it over your head.
"Pretty girl's been so needy for me, hm?"
You moan at the pet name, fisting the fabric of his tank top as you move your hips faster against his thigh.
"Yes-" you choke out, feeling Chan pull you against him with more force, "and you've been so b-busy playing that stupid game."
"I thought you liked that game?" He asks you with a smirk, and even in your current state, you find yourself wanting to smack him.
"I d-do!" The words almost leave you in a scream when Chan starts bouncing his leg beneath you, "just not when I need you and you won't stop playing it."
Chan stops bouncing his leg and slows the speed of your hips, causing a loud whine of protest to tear from your throat as he slowly drags your hips along his thigh.
"I'm sorry, baby." He quietly apologizes, a big grin taking over his features as he watches you try and move your hips faster, but ultimately failing due to the grip he has on you. "I had no idea you needed me so bad."
Your head falls against his shoulder, desperate whines leaving your lips as Chan continues moving you at a torturous pace. He loves seeing you so needy for him, loves knowing he's the only one who can give you what you need, and he's willing to let you suffer due to his slow pace for just a minute so he can take in this moment in it's raw, unfiltered form.
"Channie, please!" You whimper out, rutting desperately against the strong muscle beneath you as he holds you in place against him.
You watch the grin on his face slowly fade as his eyes grow dark, watching your need all but consume you as he starts pulling you against him in long strides. He pushes you back along his thigh as far as he can without letting you fall, and pulls you forward until your core meets where his leg connects to his torso. Your head lolls backwards as your mouth falls agape, it all feels so good you fall silent for a minute before a loud moan leaves your lips.
Chan is quick to pick up the pace of your hips, desperate to hear more of your pretty noises and see more of your reactions. Your hands sneak under his tank top, needing to feel his warm skin under your palms as you claw at the soft flesh. He lets out a hiss at the feeling of your nails dragging against his skin, and he let's go of you to pull the fabric off him.
"Keep going, baby, make yourself feel good."
The second Chan's tank top hits the floor, your hands fly to grip his shoulders for support as you hurriedly rut against his thigh. You notice the tent in Chan's shorts, and you watch as he pushes the fabric down enough for his length to spring free. He's painfully hard, and the deep moan he lets out when he wraps his hand around the base of his cock has your thighs closing around the thigh you're riding.
"Fuck, baby-" Chan groans out when he starts to fist his cock.
Chan's left hand comes to grip at your hip, stopping your movements long enough to reach between your thighs and pull your panties to the side so your core can make direct contact with the fabric of his shorts. He slides his left hand beneath your core, laying his palm flat against you to let your arousal pool in his hand before he wraps that same hand around the tip of his leaking cock, his right hand furiously pumping his shaft.
You slam your hips back down on his thigh, your nails leaving crescents in the flesh of his shoulders as you chase your high.
Oh how you wish you could engrave the sight in front of you into your brain to keep for the rest of time.
Chan's head is thrown back agaisnt the couch, eyes hooded as he watches your every move, moans spilling endlessly from his pillowy, soft lips. His dominant hand works to push him towards his release as it effortlessly glides up and down the length of his cock, thanks to your arousal. His non-dominant hand switches between circling his palm around his tip, and his pointer finger and thumb connecting to form a ring around the head of his cock as he slides those fingers over his tip repeatedly.
You can't tell who's moaning louder or more frequently, but when Chan starts bouncing his thigh beneath you again, this time consistently as you continue to grind against him, you're convinced you could shatter a window with the high-pitched moan you let out.
The noise is music to Chan's ears, and just from the pitch of your sounds alone, he can tell you're close.
"Cum with me, baby, please." He moans out, feeling your thighs shake when he pushes his heel off the floor so his thigh presses harder against your core.
You fall into his chest, clawing at his biceps as you struggle to continue to roll your hips against his. His thigh is still bouncing against you, and with all this combined with the sound of Chan's moans right next to your ear, you cum with a scream.
Chan follows not long after you, his cum spilling over his hand as your release soaks his shorts and drips down his thigh and onto the floor beneath you two.
You're completely still on top of Chan, your legs shaking and your breathing erratic as you pant against Chan's neck. All you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and Chan's rugged breathing as one of his hands snakes around your middle to hold you against him.
Once your breathing returns to normal, you pull away from Chan to look at the mess you both made. Your eyes fall to his hand that is lazily resting in his lap, cum still dripping from his fingers and onto his lap.
He looks at you before following your line of sight to his hand, he lets out a weak, breathy chuckle as he looks back at you. You gently grab his wrist, looking him in the eyes as you bring his hand up to your mouth. You wrap your lips around his pointer and middle fingers, sucking his release off the digits. Chan watches you with hooded eyes, letting you do as you please as he feels his length harden once again. You let your tongue glide in between and around the digits until you pull them out of your mouth with a 'pop'.
Chan is quick to pull you further into his lap until your core is hovering above his hard length.
"You gonna let me stuff you full of my cum this time, baby?" He asks you as he lines the tip of his length up with your entrance.
All you can do is nod, your chest already rising and falling rapidly again as you slowly sink down onto Chan's length.
You may have been annoyed earlier, but when it leads to an amazing orgasm and being stuffed full of your boyfriend's cock, you can barely remember even being annoyed in the first place.
Main Masterlist
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
▪ Author's Note
This is entirely based off of Channie's first Instagram live.
That live ruined my life and turned my brain to fucking mush
▪ Taglist
@kpophubb @whatudowhennooneseesyou @skzgallll
Send me a DM or ask to be added to the taglist
▪ Extras
©All rights are reserved to Moonlit-Stay. Stealing, reposting, copying, translating, plagiarizing, and modifying any and all of my work is strictly prohibited.
Released: October 10th, 2024
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !
#stray kids smut#stray kids smut imagines#stray kids bang chan smut#stray kids chan smut#bang chan smut#kinktober
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Fakeboy story time!
You and your male friend are hanging out in his basement, smoking, playing video games, talking about girls. Just doing stuff for the boys, like you always do. But today, you felt a little bit different, more comfortable around him. Safe. So you finally decided to come out and tell him that you're trans.
"Wait, so like... you want to be a girl? That's fuckin weird dude..." he responds. Not the response you were looking for.
"No I mean, I was born a girl! And then I transitioned, before I even met you..." you say back, struggling with the words, not thinking it would need this much explanation. You'd assumed he suspected you were trans, but apparently not. "I wear a binder to keep my chest down, and I usually wear boy clothes, so i guess it might not be as obvious as i thought..." you whisper back at him, a little sad at how this is going.
"Wait, so you have fucking tits?" He lunges forwards and touches your chest. You yelp and try to pull away from him, but his hand stays on you. "Oh yeah, fuck dude... I feel something here blocking them..." he reaches down and grabs your shirt, starting to pull it off.
"W-wait, what are you doing?!?" You shout as your shirt flies up over your head, revealing your binder.
"Relax dude..." he responds, looking at your chest inquisitively. "Two guys seeing each other's chests is normal. What the hell is this bra you're wearing, looks uncomfortable as hell." He grabs at it and literally tears it off your chest, as you feel the sting of it snapping against your breasts. Your tits spring out immediately, showing just how large your chest really is. "Fuck dude..." he whispers in amazement. "Why the hell were you hiding these away from me?" He reaches down and grabs one of your tits, squeezing it in his hand.
"S-stop dude, that's not funny!" You shout, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away. But he doesn't budge an inch. You'd wrestled together before and knew he was stronger than you, but he must've been holding back before, because now, he felt stronger than ever. "Please... don't..." you try to stammer out, struggling not to moan as he squeezes here, brushing your nipples with his fingers.
"Can't believe you were hiding this from me all this time... I could've been having so much fun! You could've been my tomboy girlfriend..." he says shoving you down and getting on top of you, squeezing your tits harder and causing an involuntary moan to come out of you, getting a small smirk out of him.
"I'm not a girl though!" You shout back at him, trying to shove him off. But he just smiles back.
"If you're not a girl, then what are these?" He says, squeezing your tits harder. You moan, louder than before, impossible to ignore. "And what's this?" He says, tearing a hole in the front of your sweats, revealing your nicely shaved pussy. You stare down, fear beginning to build up in your body as you realize that he's not stopping.
"And if you're a 'real man' than why don't you have one of these?" He asks, pulling out his cock. It's massive, as big as the ones you see in porn all the time. His dick is throbbing, just inches from your face, a pearly drop of precum dripping down and resting on your chin.
"Please... don't do this..." you whimper out, struggling not to cry, but also not to moan just at the sight of his dick.
"Don't worry..." he leans down, whispering into your ear. "You're going to love it." And with that, he shoves his dick straight into your pussy, no lube, no preparation. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt at all, probably because you're already soaked just from thinking about what he's doing to you. You cry out, half a scream for help, half a moan as he thrusts in and out of you, making you feel things you never have when you've masturbated.
"Fuck, you weren't lying last month when you said you were a virgin, you feel so fucking good around my cock, slut..." he grunts out, thrusting into you furiously, without any care for you pleasure. Despite that, it feels great. You hate that he's doing this, you hate that he's fucking you like a girl, that he's fucking you at all. But you can't deny the physical pleasure of the whole situation... still, you try to get him to stop.
"Please, please s-stop!" You yell, holding in a moan while he slaps your tits and fucks you harder. "I'm not a girl, d-don't fuck me like one!" You'd prefer if he wasn't fucking you at all, but that's as much as you can ask for.
"Shut it, bitch. You hid this from me for so long, the least you can do to repay me is to let me use your pussy how I want... I'm going to use you all night, fucking you and cumming in you over and over..."
Your heart stops for a moment and your eyes grow wide. "Cumming in m-me...?" You ask, looking up at him with fear. "You can't! I'm not on birth control or anything!!" You grab his arms and try to push him off, but it's no use.
"Oh? I thought you were a "man" though? Men can't get pregnant, so I'll cum in you all I want... then we'll see..." he says, thrusting harder and harder. You can tell that he's already getting close to cumming, judging from the speed he's going at. You do your best to try and push him off, all while begging him to stop over and over, but it's no use. After just a few minutes, he finally plunges his cock deep inside of you, so far and fast that it actually makes you cum, squeezing his cock even harder as it starts finishing inside of you, filling you up with a feeling of warmth, overflowing and hitting every inch inside your pussy with his seed. After a minute or so of you both orgasming and panting, he collapses on top of you, with his cock still inside of you, and gives you a nice, intimate kiss. You try and push him off now, but it's still no use. He's too big, too strong to get off of you, like any real man is.
"Fuck..." he whispers out, kissing you again and again as you try to avoid his mouth. "That was amazing... we're doing that again as soon as I get hard." He props himself up on his elbows and looks down at you, relishing in the look of pure terror still sitting on your face. "You're a really good actor, with this whole "man" character you've been playing. But let's see how good of an act you can put up when your belly starts swelling in a few months..."
You look back at him in shock and start crying, hoping that your tears will convince him to let you go. Instead, you just feel his cock inside of you, growing hard once more.
#detrans kink#ftm detrans kink#ftm girl#ftm misgendering#detrans female#ftm detransition#detrans ftm#fakeboy#detransition kink#forced detrans
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