#so ig they're all screwed
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aimedis · 2 months ago
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what's up with the shaw idiots and dating outside of societal norms?
david has a human mate
asher has a human mate
darlin' has a VAMPIRE mate after being abused by one already (vampires & wolves historically didn't get along if you forgot)
milo is the only normal one ig with a stealth mate (but i saw a hc once that that was kind of frowned upon in milo's family and that's funny to me, in a good way)
christian and amanda were the only normal ones for dating each other but even that didn't last 😭
it's like it's a rite of passage in the shaw pack to never date another werewolf or something
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necrotic-nephilim · 3 months ago
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as a Helena fan who's witnessed this whole bit go from silly jokes/memes to genuine vitriol, it's been utterly bizarre. from what i noticed, the root of the comparison came from people fanonizing Jason to the degree of saying "he has Catholic guilt (bc of the Flashpoint priest!Jason) and he'd be an English school teacher (bc i'm assuming, his taste for classic lit) and he's female rage-coded and he would adopt/protect children" which, are canonical traits of Helena. so at first, it was sort of a joke lamenting the fact ppl would rather force unrealistic headcanons onto Jason than consume content with a woman in the Batfam. because it's sort of a tad ironic/painful to see fanonized Jason Todd who's being called all these things he isn't, when there's a canon character who *is* all of those things right there. like if that's the character you want, why wouldn't you want to read about Helena. the issue started with frustration against fanon Jason, from my experience anyway.
but then, it spiraled out of control to become a comparison of their lethal moral code and their disagreements with Bruce suddenly making Jason this stupid boy clone of Helena. which isn't true and is an insult to both of them to claim they're at all the same. they kill for different reasons, they're at odds with Bruce for different reasons. a well-written Helena and a well-written Jason really have little in common. though their interactions could be interesting, i don't even think they'd get along tbh.
i think in recent months/years, the Batfamily fandom suddenly became self aware that they grossly ignore the women of the Batfam. and now they're trying *too hard* to course correct for that. to an extent, i get why Helena isn't in the majority of fanon content- she hasn't really *been* a Batfamily member since pre-Flashpoint. the New-52 and Rebirth versions of her character are arguably not even the same character and certainly not a character as important to the Batfamily as she used to be. so why *would* a fandom mostly pulling from modern comics know who she is aside from the couple WFA episodes she's been in. (which did her *no* favors for people understanding her and also whitewashed her before the art was fixed.)
but, i think everyone's now trying to prove how woke their fandom content is (i hate using that word, it sounds very republican but i can't think of a better one.) by including women and characters of color to prove they don't just care about the boys. and sure, it's cool and all if you want to pick up Huntress comics bc you're sick of reading about stories only featuring Bruce and his "sons", but now it's like. almost a competition to prove how much more you know about the Batfam than other people when you make these jokes. i've seen the same thing happening comparing Steph and Jason recently. yes, it's important to care about the more diverse characters of the Batfam as much as you care about the boys. but now they're put on this ridiculous pedestal of being the "more cool alternatives". an organic push for content about the underrated characters is one thing, but it's another thing entirely when it's born out of a performative nature, which is certainly what this whole... thing feels like.
and the irony is, you can *really* tell the people doing this the most haven't actually read much of Helena's content outside of Gail Simone's Birds of Prey. and my hot take is, i don't think Gail Simone does a *great* job with Helena and she's often pretty sexist toward Helena (making other characters slut shame her, making Helena very promiscuous which isn't something she has a history of, etc) so, while it's important content for Helena, it can be a shallow reading of her. where all you really get about her is "pro-murder Batfam vigilante with a crossbow and a sassy personality" which sure, feels a *bit* like a shallow Jason. but that's the whole point, you have to make them both *incredibly* shallow to compare them. bc it's not about actually liking the women, it's about getting the shallow brownie points of saying "look i know who she is and i think she's *totally* cooler than Jason he's a dumb copy".
tbh even with the Jason Todd headcanons that are more egregious in feeling like "oh that's just Helena Bertinelli but a dude", it's not like it's being done on purpose. none of these fanon-only fans know enough about Helena to be purposefully stealing her traits and it really isn't that deep aside from sometimes, people just have bad headcanons that kinda make you wish they would read about characters aside from their main blorbos. but hey, they're not *required* to, and no one is an evil misogynist for having some OOC headcanons. you suck the fun out of fandom when you require people to interact with characters they aren't interested in. and depending on why someone likes Jason, they honestly might not like Helena. they're wildly different and have very different dynamics with everyone around them.
and i get it, Jason has had *wildly* inconsistent writing and there's debate upon debate of what's in character for him, what comics you should consider when trying to make fan content about him, and so on. i'm in the "anything past pre-Flashpoint isn't in the version i prefer" camp, but the whole mess of it scatters the fandom on how to write him. which i think is the actual root of him getting fanonizing beyond recognition, *not* people stealing from Helena. is it particularly headache-inducing to see Jason fans say "he's girl coded" or "he's female-rage coded"? yeah. but even those fans aren't ever going to be convinced out of their bubble by vitriolic comments made about how Jason's a total loser and Helena's so much cooler than him. and then the more canon-based fans who might *actually* like Helena and probably would read her comics if just given an honest recommendation of her character are *really* not going to want to be interacting her content/fandom. painting a broad stroke of the Jason fandom all seeing Jason as this cartoonish fanon version of himself does you no favors with anyone.
like i used to find the silly jokes/memes that were solely calling out bad fanon enjoyable as pure lighthearted "oh i wish more people liked this character the way they liked that character bc the fandom for this character is so small" vibes, but you're right about it getting out of hand. it's become the only thing people seem to talk about in the Huntress fandom space. i'd much rather discuss Helena for who she is then talk about Jason. because isn't it just a *little* ironic that in attempting to make this fandom more inclusive of the women, we still just *have* to make it about the men? you don't make Helena, or Steph or Cass or Onyx or any other underrated woman sound cool by comparing them to Jason. you just make it sound like you don't know how she stands as a character on her own. she's a cool character with a cool history (both in-universe and the meta history of the Huntress mantle) but this whole weird hate boner for Jason permeating the fandom space for her just makes people hate her instead of not know of her. and really, i can't blame anyone for that.
Like. Where and when did Helena vs Jason thing start? It's so fucking annoying and makes me think that I'll never want to interact with the Huntress fandom if/when I read more stuff about her. Which is a bit how I avoid interacting with the Nightwing fandom at large despite liking his stuff.
#necrotic festerings#reblog#batfamily meta#helena bertinelli#another reblog recced you some great places to start with her#(tho I personally disagree with them about the BoP movie that adaptation is *ass* for her character and whitewashing. but that's just me)#(for context Helena was made a mixed Black woman in the New-52 and has remained a woman of color since)#(so any content post 2014 where she isn't a woc is whitewashing.)#I don't like modern Helena but that is important and does add interesting nuance to her and should be respected so. that explains that ig#for comics I always rec starting with cry for blood or year one#huntress 1989 is good but the backstory is retconned but you do see a lot of her best traits on display there so I love it#and i'm a little mixed on her birds of prey content. bop: manhunt is not *too* bad for being by dixon. simone's work is. eeeeehhhh#important and has rlly good high moments but oh the low moments can really give you the wrong idea about helena#which is where I think *those* fans are pulling their idea of her to compare her to jason#bc wdym they're similar. *none* of her fundamental motivations even come close to comparable to jason's.#I love Helena. I would make everyone a Huntress fan if I could.#but *god* I get it if you're not bc fucking Jesus this is weird and toxic atp.#I used to laugh at some of the memes and even parroted the logic a year ago bc at first. yeah some fanon Jason fans can rlly be Like That#but now it's weird and I cringe/recoil at it.#if you can't say anything interesting about Helena without bringing up Jason then like. do you even *like* her??#or do you like the praise you get for your performative opinions. like.#it's that pop culture phenomenon of “here's my transgressive unpopular opinion hot take bc I'm more enlightened than all of you!”#suddenly becoming the accepted norm and getting parroted and parroted until it's bastardized to all hell.#bc no I don't think Jason fans hate women if they aren't a Helena fan. be so fucking for real with that nonsense.#i'm not a Talia or Selina fan bc I just don't consume enough content for them. it's *not* that deep.#if you're consuming content for Jason why would you even come across Helena.#Jason's return wasn't responsible for the death of Helena content. it was just unfortunate timing.#the real culprit was Paul FUCKING Levitz trying to bring back Helena Wayne as a Bertinelli clone#and thus fucking over the ability for Bertinelli to exist correctly in the New-52 and onward.#Grayson (2014) tried to salvage what it could of her but Levitz just screw over the chance for her to be Huntress.
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jolapeno · 8 months ago
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4. green smoke
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you wear a date outfit but not specified and the shoes have heels but not mentioned what kind. minor discussion of past canon events incl. drugs. no use of y/n. an: if this as a friends episode this would be called "the one where they talk"
prev chapter | frankie's ig
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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Friday soon arrives.
It comes hand-in-hand with a tumultuous storm, bringing with it ominous rumbles echoing through your house. The air feels charged with tension, wrung tight, all sense—as if it’s holding its breath while the world around seems to retreat into darkness. Even if the time on your laptop says 14:43.
Your gaze fixates on beads of rain running down the window, all racing one another—like you have been for several minutes. The steady patter provides a rhythmic backdrop to your solitude, interrupted only by the occasional sighs that escape your lips and the soft tapping of your pencil against the notebook—a feeble attempt at pretending you’re concentrating.
Pretend is the optimum word.
Merely putting on a show of focusing on the task at hand. In reality, your eyes keep flicking to your phone—the one lying silent on the counter, eagerly anticipating the next notification that’ll make it illuminate.
Your work, the one thankfully with a deadline of next week, continues to sit ignored—barely considered, never mind plotted. Because it isn’t what fills your mind.
It’s him.
Just thoughts of him—mind populated with vivid memories that refuse to fade, unable to stop lingering on the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles or his infectious laugh. The one which has dug itself a place into the walls of your home, lit it up.
Then, you think of his lips, the ones that are purposeful, all heavenly. The mere thought of them sends a shiver down your spine, a longing present, spreading—
Unloading a delivery and you’re falling on me.
It's difficult not to smile at his message.
Something he effortlessly elicits from you now. Has done so since the very beginning. A thing he continues to do so the more the two of you speak.
It's giddy, almost teenage-like, the way your heart scampers to catch itself as your fingers try to pretend they're not darting to reply.
Excuse me? Rain. Oh, that is such a dad joke. It was. I’m pretty proud of it. Bet it made you smile. I will not confirm or deny. So that means it did. Shut up.
Thumbs swirling over the screen, you roll your lips, toes twitching on the floor as you grin.
So, how big is the candle going to be in the middle of the table? Ummm, appropriately sized for a restaurant? Hmm, I have only gone on dates with inappropriately sized candles. Are you flirting with me when I’m at work? Are you saying that like you don’t flirt with me when I’m at work? In my defence, you choose your own hours. Do you mind me flirting with you? Not even a little bit. Good. Because guess what I’m wearing right now? Hopefully nothing. I’m wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Still hot. Get back to work, Butterscotch.
You know it’s not long—a handful of hours until you’ll be across from him.
Likely with your smile hurting your cheeks, eyes unable to stand looking away from him for more than a few minutes. Unable to explain or rationalise how straightforward it is with him, how natural it feels to get swept up in all of this and find yourself wanting to be around him.
Something you try to put to the back of your mind, to not clock-watch, not count down. Doing well at it until you hear your phone buzz and see his name appear on your screen.
The laundry you're putting away ignored, the item dropped from your hand to the floor, before wiping your hands on your thighs, taking a measured breath, then lifting the phone to swipe it.
His voice fills your ear almost immediately. All hello and your name, a can you hear me? following.
And your heart skips a beat—missing a whole thud against your ribs as you stare at the outfit hanging on the closet door.
“I’m really sorry—“
And your heart falls. Descends gradually, like a feather freefalling. Doing so until it has nowhere else to go but sit in the hollow void. Disappointment beating, pulsating.
“—Harold… he had to leave early, his heart was playing up and he said he’d come back. But I can’t make him do that, wouldn’t be able to enjoy ourselves if he just—"
“—Frankie—“
“—And I’ve tried to move the reservation, rang the restaurant. But, they’re booked up and I really want to take you there—”
“—Frankie?”
You brush the fabric, the hanger holding on to the top of the door with sheer will as you do so between thumb and finger. Half-smiling—even still. Listening to the way he takes a breath, to the way he cares so much.
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, swallowing, shoving the dismay down. “I… promise.”
The voice you hear back is soft. So tinged with sadness, and regret, you half-want to call him Butterscotch just to make him laugh. “You sure?”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you reassure him, comfort him—voice steady as you do so, "We can reschedule. It's not a problem."
A moment of silence follows, with a sense of letdown settling in the air like fog. It sits there, resting, hanging. Because even if you know it’s just a minor adjustment, a twinge of disappointment still seeps in. Not so much a sharp pang, but a lingering weight that makes your shoulders sag, as though everything had deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.
“Baby… I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, a smile making its way onto your face despite the circumstances. "There's always next time."
“Not drove you away then?” he half-laughs, one you imagine is a little forced.
“Not even a little bit.”
Sighing, you swear you hear him smile with it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
You grin, nothing but light and easy, “Just make sure next time you can show up, that’ll be a good start."
Frankie laughs, it flowing down your ear before it’s joined by a promise that he will and he can call you later, if you like? A thing which sounds like a good idea, even more so when it's followed by the fact he wishes he could stay—talk, but you know. Nodding to no one but yourself as you bid him goodbye, leaning against the wall—hanging up, full of bittersweet.
You let your head fall against it, rolling it there as your eyes flick back up at your clothes, lingering over it.
And an idea appears.
It grows—smothering over sadness before it blooms.
Then, you’re grinning. One almost as large as you do when he makes you giggle. Almost.
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You’re thankful the sign still says open when you step out of your car—fingers tugging at fabric, ensuring it sits how it’s supposed to.
Even for a surprise, you wanted to look as picture-perfect as you should have been entering the restaurant. The paper bags catch your leg, noise crinkling against the air as you yank on the handle—entering, being washed in wood chippings, bleach and paint.
For a moment, one stuck between time and space, you look. Glance. Unsure where to find him, until your eyes land on him and find his head lifting at the sound of your entering.
Whatever Frankie had been in his hand dropped, all forgotten. His mouth parting at the sight of you. Taking you in. Sweeping brown, surprised eyes all over you as heat rises up your neck and brushes over your ears.
“I know I’m a little overdressed for buying a hammer, but…”
Mouth falling open, he looks torn between grinning and speaking. “What are you…”
Shrugging, watching his eyes roam up and down the outfit you’d chosen. The one that had been on the hanger for days—one you’d not thought could be replaced by anything else.
“Well,” you begin, smirking, “My date got caught up at work and I’d been really looking forward to seeing him.”
Frankie smiles, hand rubbing along his jaw as he stares.
“But then, someone told me there’s a secret restaurant here. One behind a metal door that says, Staff Only?”
Dropping his hand, and swiping his tongue across his lips—he slowly moves around the register. Coming to join you as you hold the bags up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the shop floor tiles as you meet him halfway.
“I also suspect that you might not have eaten, since you've been alone for most of the day.”
It’s at that moment his stomach roars. It grinds, what you assume is coffee, before groaning inside of him as he claps a hand on his apron.
“The only problem is,” you say, narrowing your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I… I didn’t know what you would like, so I might have bought a ridiculous amount of food.”
Taking a bag, his eyes widen when he opens it. “You’re staying, right? To help me?”
Reaching inside the bag he didn’t take, you pull out a single, battery-powered candle. “It’s a date.”
He gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I just need to lock up," he says.
You watch with a flutter of excited nervousness as he moves around the store, flipping the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed', and then securing the door. The lock clicks into place, echoing in the quiet store. He then proceeds to shut off the lights, plunging the store into a soft, inviting darkness lit only by the glow from the streetlights outside.
Turning back to you, he extends a hand.
"Shall we?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth spreading through your fingers.
As you walk together towards the back of the store, a tinge of excitement flutters in the air. The 'Staff Only' sign looms above the door like a secret entrance to a place you shouldn't be, but with a gentle gesture, he ushers you inside.
You don't miss the way his fingers brush your lower back, the heat they ignite up your spine as his chest meets your back, face close to yours. Lingering, eyes sweeping over you.
"Lemme just..." he whispers, elongating it, before he bends to pull you a chair out—one with three wheels, no back—fingers sliding up to brush over your shoulders as you sit down.
“Careful.”
Swallowing, you suppress the effect he's having on you, forcing a smirk. “Oh, I’ll try, Morales. Don’t want you to have to fill out the accident book.”
“Harold would murder me.”
Snorting, you watch him join you—taking the candle from your hand, flicking it on and placing it directly in the middle before the two of you begin taking food out. He gazes at bundled packaged burgers, stealing a fry from the bag before it’s laid out over the desk.
“So, as it’s our third date.” His eyes flick to you, mid-bite of his food as you twirl a fry in your fingers. “I get to ask you challenging questions, right?”
“Fuck,” he says, under his breath. Grinning. “Alright, let me have it.”
Nudging him with the tip of your shoe he laughs. “Okay. You and Luca’s mom?”
“Ah.”
Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth. “You don’t have to worry.”
“And as everyone in history knows, those words are how people stop worrying.”
Smirking, he turns on the wheely stool, facing you, knees abutting yours. “We haven’t been together since he was born—we… we weren’t even together by the time he reached six months. He… he doesn’t know any different. We have things we say, and truly, she’s a fantastic mom, we have a great co-parenting situation.”
“Okay.”
His fingers land on your knee, dancing over them, light and feathery as he sighs. Heavy. Weighted. It makes you swallow, makes you want to dig your fingers into your leg to stop yourself worrying, thinking—overdramatising whatever it is.
Scratching his head, he rolls his tongue from his cheek to the front of his teeth. “I wasn’t a good person then… a lot of shit had happened—I’d left the service, found myself… haunted, I guess? Me and her, we met, we… seemed good. She seemed good. And then, I…”
Your hand slides over his, one of your fries still in hand as you do. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to.”
Nodding, he half smiles.
And then he does.
He tells you about his days in the army—and the sleepless nights when he was back home. The sense of loss he felt without it, the uniform that meant nothing when he joined a regular job. How flying helicopters for people with money who had no cares in the world began to make him hollow, carving a piece inside of him that didn’t fill with laughter at barbecues and trivia nights. He tells you how he’d rambled to someone about the lack of sleep, before he found a little white bag in his locker—an opportunity, a chance to not overthink.
That it had stayed there for days, almost a week until there had been news about someone he had once worked with.
Then he explained how it wasn’t a problem, but it also very much was. How he was lost, drowning—that people reached out, but the lights had been on, but no one was home. How it became a coping mechanism, a small dose to take the ache away—before he learnt he was going to be a dad. Her worries about him making her ignore the signs, much further on than they thought—and then, one month later, how he failed a drug test.
Trace amounts, barely anything, but still plenty.
His license, revoked—paused. His future dwindled, a baby due to arrive, one he’d heard the heartbeat off at the same time as he found himself at the threat of being alone. A second chance dangled, offered—do better, Frank. Don’t be selfish.
“—but, I didn’t change. Don’t change.”
Your heart falls, and descends.
Watching him shake his head, grabbing a handful of fries before stuffing them into his mouth as he chews, and you pick at one from your own box.
“Things were good—Luca, he had ten toes, ten fingers. He was great, happy. It made us being good seem real? But, it lingered, y’know? If work kept me later, there was this distrust, this question. And I couldn’t blame her, didn’t. Never would either. I broke that, I know I did. But…”
“It wasn’t healthy?”
Shrugging, he swallows, before nodding. “Then, I helped a friend, one from my squad. Had to… it was dangerous. I was gone longer than I said—and she worried, panicked. I knew before I left that when I got back I’d likely find my stuff packed—not that I blame her. I know we tried. But, I broke it. But now we’re better… better co-parents than partners, you know?”
Nodding, you chew, rolling the salt on your lips together. A beat passes, ice clanging in the drinks, cartons scratching against the table as the two of you eat.
“That was probably a lot.”
“It’s okay. Are you… are you good now?”
Nodding, he chews another fry. “Clean since Luca was born. Five years, fifty-seven days.”
“Well, I know this might be weird to say, but I’m proud of you.”
Smiling, he chews his cheek, meeting your eyes for the first time since he began sharing. “You’re a bit too good for me, you know that?”
Smirking, you steal one of his fries. “Oh, a hundred per cent. You might have a bunch of followers and good taste in paint colours, but did you know that I can sand down a dresser to the point a prominent Instagram DIYer has told me ‘I did a good job’.”
“Doesn’t sound that trustworthy. Bet he doesn’t know what you call wrenches.”
Pouting, you narrow your eyes as he laughs. “Thank you for telling me.”
Nodding, he rolls his lips. “I had to… ‘cause… are we enacting third date-talk honesty?”
“Of course.”
Half-smiling, he nudges himself closer on the stool. “I really like you.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you look up at the ceiling, before grabbing his knees and wheeling yourself closer. “I quite like you too.”
Smile spreading, he places his hands on top of yours. “Yeah? Because I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to… run from all of that.”
Smirking, you try to move closer, even if the wheels of both stools try to prevent you. “Did you know, honesty is really, really hot?”
Brows raising, chin lifting, his lips slide further into his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’m glad too.”
Swallowing, his fingers slide in between yours, eyes flicking from one eye to the other. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous, that.”
“Well, I’ve seen your house now.”
Nodding, you smile. Feeling it, whatever he’s going to say, ask, think lingering in the silence. His grin widens, a spark igniting in his eyes that sends a rush of warmth through you.
“So, I think it only seems fair you see mine.”
Wiping your hands on your napkin, licking your lips as you cross a leg over the other. “Well, for fair sake I definitely should.”
“Do you want to… now?”
“Tonight?”
Nodding, that same flush of pink rises up his neck, up his jaw.
Smirking, you loosen your hand from his—resting your palm on his cheek, elbow on your knee. “I’d like that.”
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The car ride to his should be tense, but it isn't.
Instead, it's filled with soft laughter, teasing comments and shared glances—your fingers twitching, wondering whether a hand on his knee is too soon. Even when everything else feels so normal, natural.
When he pulls up outside his place, anticipation fills the air—a rush of warmth flooding through you, making your fingers clamp together and stare out at the place as he says, this is it.
It’s nice, well-kept—charming, from what you can already tell. Eyes spot chalk drawings on the patio, lit up by the outside lights and a plastic red car close to where he's parked.
“Luca has some good parking,” you smile, pointing to it next to you both. “You learn from him, or?”
Smirking, he undoes his belt. “Maybe, I taught him how to park. I’m very good with heavy transportation.”
You don’t miss the way he emphasises the sentence. Your 'oh' is swallowed by the sound of him opening the door and telling you to wait.
Watching as he moves around the vehicle, his eyes holding yours. Earlier, you'd been thankful that the rain had taken a pause; now you wished it hadn't stopped its lashings that glued clothing to skin, thighs pressing together on the seat before the door beside you opens.
“What a gentleman.”
“Just wanted another chance to chance to check you out, really.”
Swatting him, he takes your hand, his laugh blending with yours as he leads you up to his front door.
If he feels nervous, he doesn’t show it. Finding his keys and slides one into the lock without missing. Opening the door without as much as an awkward shove of the door.
If anything, it’s effortless. It not even squeaking or catching as he pushes it open.
“It’s not a lot…” he begins.
But he couldn’t be more wrong.
It’s cosy and warm. Exuding an unmistakable homeliness that immediately comforts you. Dark woods, off-whites, and splashes of orange, caramel, and greens intertwine harmoniously, creating a space that feels both freshly decorated and deeply loved. A balance you assume exists because of him being the one to bring it all together, knowing from the videos you've seen how talented he is.
As you glance around, you begin to see the traces of the Frankie you’ve been getting to know. Photographs of him at the beach, with his son, with friends and more with Luca at varying ages.
Then, there are the plants. An assorted mix of them, some big that you remember from photos, some greener than others—some tall and in plants with animal faces like raccoons and beavers, others in decorative pots placed on shelves.
As you step in further, you spot furniture you recognise from videos—even noting the stacked pile of books from a photo he’d shared recently and a record player on a side table.
“C’mon, let me show you around.”
He leads you, hand in yours, showing you his well-equipped kitchen, and dining space. Occasionally, he points things out, like the markings on a wall he’s using to measure how tall Luca gets and the scuff marks from dragging the dining table in after varnishing it. Before finally, the two of you are outside the half-open door to his bedroom.
Frankie giving you a wink, bodies almost flush.
“That where the magic happens?”
“Not usually…”
"Maybe that's cause people haven't been saying the right magic words." Shrugging, you lick your lower lip, staring at the beading on the door. "I should tell you, I've heard I'm quite good at magic words..."
You let it linger, sit. Before you turn on your heel, fingers brushing over a table as you head back in the direction of his living room.
He follows, a step or two behind, letting you and your eyes capture all the personal touches before you feel fingers on your wrist, tugging you back, body flush to his.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, you find your throat dry—eyes flicking to his mouth.
“Go take a seat, I’ll bring us a drink.”
It’s soft, the nod you do as he slips his hand from your waist. You move, almost on auto-pilot, to sit down on his sofa, running your fingers over a cushion—one stitched with greens, golds and oranges.
When he reappears, you look up at him, noticing the hint of nerves in his gaze as you plaster on a reassuring smile as he places them down on the coffee table.
Slowly, you reach out, squeezing his hand, "Your home is lovely, Frankie."
He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks as he joins sitting down. "Yeah?"
Nodding, you press your knee against his. “So.”
“So.”
With a smirk, you draw a measured breath. “I believe... I want to kiss you now.”
Swallowing, his gaze flickers to your lips, lingering, before snapping back up to your eyes. Warmth spreads over your cheeks, neck and ears. “I believe you should, Rainy.”
A response there, nestled between teeth and tongue, is muffled as his lips meet yours—for the first time in several days.
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an: as a warning, the next chapter will include smut. if you wish to skip the smut, you can miss the chapter as there will be no other scenes. the following chapter will pick up the next morning.
NEXT CHAPTER ->
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buckevantommy · 3 months ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/buckevantommy/757878657756872704/btw-i-dont-think-we-need-to-worry-about-buck-and
Agree 100%. But, to further expand that, and going outside the world of the show.
From a GA perspective, or the audience full stop, how many partners are we willing to watch before we lose interest? By this I mean - if the writers are spending screen time / several episodes introducing a new character and a new relationship, usually we get invested. And when that person disappears, it can be frustrating, and the introduction of a new person (thus the start of the cycle again), can feel a bit tiring. Every time they need to find something that makes the audience go: okay, it’s worth for me to care about this character.
Buck’s case is a bit particular, because his relationships haven’t been all that well received (until now). Either it was an ‘okay’ situation, without much interest, or an okay reception but controversial at times (for me, Taylor - I do think the GA was okay with her, but ultimately the couple was not good). Tommy has been imo the first relationship that truly has brought in lots of positive and good reviews and a good investment of attention from fans and even GA. Tommy’s clips in any social media are usually the ones with most views, and in things like IG it goes to talk about the GA more than a focused fandom.
This to say - if Buck was to break up with Tommy, I think a lot of the audience would be frustrated or even grow bored of the constant change of partners. Even, they would be less receptive to a future new partner, because if Tommy (so well received) is gone, who would even stay?
Not to say this means Tommy is Buck’s endgame, because no one knows. But at some point the constant change of partners gets old, and we know Tim agrees when he expressed wanting to get Buck off the hamster wheel (something Oliver agreed on), and Tommy is a really strong character to have Buck settle with.
Long story short: not only from a SL perspective, but Bucktommy being long lasting makes sense for the overall image of the show.
You're absolutely right nonny.
bc if we think about bucktommy in terms of it being Buck's relationship aka. a main character's relationship, enough is enough on dragging him from illfit to illfit - that guy deserves to be settled, at ease in himself, as Bobby once told him, and we've already seen Tommy help make that happen for him.
and if we look back at Buck's relationship history: we're 7 years into poor matches for a guy who has always wanted to love and be loved - and Tommy can be that for him! he has been that for him so far and could so easily fit into the narrative as Buck's significant other moving forward indefinitely. Tommy already feels like the missing piece to Buck's story the same way Karen was for Hen and Maddie was for Chim and Athena was for Bobby - and he's a fleshed out character in his own right just as those partners are.
enough screwing around with Buck's relationships. sometimes it feels like just bc he started out as a fuckboy he somehow doesn't deserve a stable, healthy, loving relationship, like the narrative is going out of its way to ruin any chance he has at that for the sake of drama (but again: none of his previous partners were the right match for him).
i'm going to mention dear dean winchester again bc he has so much in common with Buck, and these kinds of characters (male, strong, macho, attractive, swagger, charming, sexually active, presumably bisexual) always cycle through relationships that never pan out - bc they're not the right fit, but moreover bc these partners seem written in just to be eventually written out, there to help the main character's plot along, aid in some personal growth and add drama, maybe attract more viewership for those interested in seeing more (temporary) female characters.
but it is.. *sigh* tiresome, indeed. let Buck have a stable partner - like Hen, and Chim, and Bobby do - and let their relationship be woven into the narrative to create a richer tapestry like those other pairings do. that is so much more satisfying in terms of storytelling and character growth, than trying to insert drama snags that threaten to unravel things. you can still have drama with committed pairings - every other committed pairing in the show is proof of that.
and if we take off the shipper googles: Tommy is good as Buck's partner, he makes sense, and he has great potential in the longrun both as Buck's boyfriend/husband and as his own character within the wider narrative of the show. he's a natural fit, but he's also entertaining and he has history with most of the main characters already.
i really do see Tommy as Buck's endgame btw, bc they work so well together as a pairing but also as independant characters. BUT i wouldn't be mad about them breaking up/taking a break (as i mentioned in that post: uncertainty about having kids; a potential permanent job position out of state) and then come back together stronger for it. we saw it happen with Henren (but i don't want to see cheating with our boys bc it doesn't fit who they are) so we know if they do breakup it doesn't have to be permanent - and i actually would love the mirror to Buck's first serious relationship where Abby leaves him - only Tommy comes back to him.
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whiteteadreams · 1 year ago
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Pairing: Non-Idol!Zhong Chenle x Maid Cafe Waitress!Female Reader
Preview: “Chenle, we shouldn’t.” He backed you into the kitchen island, watching your every move. “Why not?” He looked into your frantic eyes that were searching for a way out with a false sense of confusion. Chenle placed his hands on the counter at your sides, slightly behind you, caging you in.
“T-the deal?” You assumed it was obvious but as you said it, you knew it didn’t make sense and you were screwed. “I think we both know that this-” he pointed between the two of you, “-isn’t a part of the deal.” He was right. You hated him but that didn’t mean you didn’t want him.
Word Count: 15.1k
Genre: (not actual) Enemies to Lovers, smut, angst, fluff, non-Idol AU,
Warnings: Chenle is really mean, reader is quite sensitive, their sexual relations aren't a part of the deal they made, both parties' consent and enjoy what goes on, blackmailing, cleaning wounds, chemical burns and bruises are mentioned, reader works at a maid cafe (men are weird and gross.), they aren't actually enemies ig they're just stupid, mature language/cursing, not proofread at all
Smut Warnings: slight dub-con (easy to miss), maid kink obvi, degrading names (slut, bitch, messy, whore etc.), kitchen sex, use of pussy pump, oral sex (both receiving and giving), sex is interrupted at one point, squirting, slapping, praise, heavy degradation, dumbification, dom/sub themes, chenle is mean, photo taken during sex, possessiveness, ik there is more so pls let me know lol
a/n- so this sprouted from several things lol i already had the idea for one of the scenes and then the youtuber emirichu posted her video abt the maid cafe and i just wanted to go ahead and write this. i hope you all enjoy it <3 ALSO sorry it took so long to write, it's over 11k words more than i thought it was gonna be lol
Stepping into the ‘Employee’s Only’ bathroom, you made sure your appearance was perfect before clocking in for your shift. Your thigh-high socks were all the way up, only two inches below the hem of your skirt. Your frills were wrinkle free, allowing them to show their true shape. The bow that sat at the small of your back wasn’t too tight nor too loose, it was fluffed, just like it was required to be. You didn’t hate the uniform, you felt really cute in it, but it was the customers that made it dreadful. The old men that would come in just to get called “Master” always, without fail, make some comment about taking the dress off of you.
Other than them, your job was quite enjoyable, it was a pretty and chill environment, you made close friends with some of your coworkers, and the shoes that came with the uniform made everything slightly less miserable for you. Shiny, black Mary Jane heels.
Deeming your hair, makeup, and outfit good enough to start your day, you walked out of the bathroom and headed for the machine in the back of the café.
“Hey girly” Minjeong bumped your hip as she passed you. She was the first friend you had met while working at the café. And even now, she was your closest friend. Your friendship didn’t stay inside the café but the two of you spent time together constantly.
“Hi Minjeong, have we been busy so far?” She didn’t give you a verbal response, only nodding her head with wide crazed eyes. You laughed at her expression and finished punching in your numbers. The ding sounded and that signaled that your shift had begun.  
“Alrighty, one of your regulars is here so you better go wait on him.” Minjeong pointed to the man in the corner of the restaurant. Having immediately recognized him, you grumbled a bit. Sure the tips were great, but you’d have to work for him. He wasn’t just gonna give you money for looking pretty, he’d make you run back and forth with different requests for the kitchen.
“Wish me luck.” Fixing you once slouched posture, you stood up straight and walked out of the back and towards the main floor. Minjeong winked at you, bit her lip, and wolf whistled as you walked away.
You were still lightly laughing as you approached the customer who had been waiting for you. “Well, aren’t you happy to see me?” Your real laughter stopped immediately and was replaced with your “customer service” laugh, it was fake and high pitched. “Oh I’m always excited to see you, Master.” You bowed your head, looking down at your shoes while you waited for him to say something.
“I think I’ll have my usual for lunch, but I’m in the mood for something sweet.” His gaze was almost predatory. The glint of lust in his eyes that were raking your body was unwanted. “How about you and that other pretty little maid over there tell me what you would recommend.” He licked his bottom lip as he pointed at Minjeong with his head.
“Right away Master.” Bowing to him and turning on your heel, you walked over to Minjeong who was headed towards the kitchen.
You walking quicker just a tad to put you side by side to Minjeong, all while still looking graceful for the customers who could still see you. “Sup pretty little maid, the guy over there wants us to recommend something for desert.” You smirked and raised both eyebrows in a provocative way. “Ugh, is that what he called me or something?” Nodding your head and linking your arm to hers, you steered the both of you back to the man’s table.
While you were still out of the man’s earshot, you heard Minjeong let out a, “Fucking old ass perv.” You elbowed her slyly since you were in the main dining area but still let out a snort, which of course caused her to laugh as well.
“Now I have two pretty girls to assist me. Okay ladies, what would you recommend for something sweet today. Of course, I’m open to trying anything.” Ignoring his obvious advances, you pointed at the menu the dessert section and gave more in-depth descriptions of all of them.
 “Oh my fucking god.” The voice came from behind you and was in shock. Minjeong looked at you with confusion. “Do you know him?” She raised one of her eyebrows at the man behind you. “I’m sorry Mister, it appears another guest is in need of immediate service. I’ll be right with you Master.” Bowing to the man seated in front of you, he rolled his eyes but allowed you to leave.
Minjeong who was still next to you wanted to know if any drama would come out of this conversation. Turning around to face the shocked man, you were still looking at Minjeong when you started speaking to him. “Is there anything I can assist you with Sir?” As soon as you said ‘Sir’, your eyes flickered to who you were actually speaking to. Zhong Chenle, the boy you had a damn nearly decade long feud with.
Before you could show any signs of embarrassment, he started talking. In a ridiculing way, he said your full name slowly. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you working in a place like this. The fuck were you thinking?” He just kept laughing, in your place of employment. Not only was he embarrassing you, but you actually liked your job for the most part and it hurt that he was making fun of it.  
Your boss overheard the conversation and the commotion that Chenle was causing. A few well-known patrons were getting annoyed with being disturbed. You heard your name being called from behind you. “Get this boy out of here and then get back to work!” Glaring at Chenle, you took him by his elbow and pulled him out the back door.
“Why the hell are you here?” You were seething at this point. But even if you were mad, the embarrassment you felt when Chenle’s eyes raked up and down your body overtook every other emotion. He smirked when you crossed your arms and put your legs together, cowering under his gaze.
“Why am I here? Oh, I don’t know, to look at all the pretty maids. It seems like I found my favorite already.” He looked down right sleezy.
“This café is 30 minutes away from campus, there’s literally one down the street from your apartment. Why wouldn’t you just go there? I work here to insure that I don’t run into anyone I know.” By your words, he seemed to gain something, but you didn’t know why the evil look in his eyes was present.
Chenle walked around you, causing you to turn around to follow him, not wanting him to be behind you at any point. “So, what you’re saying is, you don’t want anyone to know about this.” You slowly nodded, regretting saying anything to him.
“It would suck if I told anyone about this, wouldn’t it?”
“You can’t Chenle! Please, don’t. I’ll do anything!” You gasped, pleading for your secret to stay hidden.
“Anything?” He was sly, making sure that no matter what happened, he got the most out of it. In this situation, he would either get to bask in your embarrassment or he would get you.
You thought carefully about your next words, deciding if it would be worth it.
“What would you get out of it?” He shrugged nonchalantly before running his finger along the lace trimming of your skirt. “I think we both know that I’ll get you out of it at some point. However, you can just clean my apartment until then.”
Cleaning with the possibility of sex. You hated Chenle and he hated you, sex would never happen. However, cleaning didn’t seem so bad. It wasn’t as bad as everyone on campus knowing you worked at a maid café.
“Alright, sure.” You rolled your eyes at him, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling in your gut. You didn’t know what that feeling was, but you figured you’d find out eventually.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your feet felt heavy as they dragged you to Chenle’s front door. You wish they were truly as heavy as they felt so you wouldn’t be able to make it to the door. But still, no matter how much you wished your feet would somehow get cemented to the floor, you arrived in front of the wooden door.
Raising your fist to knock, you wondered if this was even worth it. Would it really be terrible if everyone knew about your job? Even the thought of people knowing made your skin crawl, so you went through with the plan and tapped your knuckles on the door.
Hearing a “One minute!” allowed you a bit of time to give yourself a breather and of course, Chenle being Chenle, that minute, turned into a few.
The door swung open once you decided to pull out your phone. Chenle, looking like he had just rolled out of bed, leaned against the frame. His eyes went from your trench coat to your sock covered legs, and down to your heels. His eyes never once reached our face until it was to question your appearance.
“Where’s the maid dress I requested? That was a crucial part of the deal.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the belt of the coat and pulled it loose, allowing the front to fall to the sides, baring your outfit to him.
“Ah, there we go. Such a good pretty maid. My pretty maid.” There must be something in the air, because no way in hell did Zhong Chenle’s words make you clench your thighs. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you with those sleepy eyes and smiling at you with that tired smile. Whatever it was, you hated it, but at the same time, you wanted it.
You wanted more.
More of him.
However, you needed to ignore the feelings and just get on with the deal you made. “Alright, what do you want me to clean first?” Smiling, he stepped aside, but not enough for you not to touch. Your side brushed his and he didn’t move until you were all the way in the large apartment.
“Well, you’re gonna clean something I hate cleaning.” It’s going to be his bathroom; you just know it.
Chenle led you through his penthouse sized apartment and said nothing. Walking through the living room that connected to the kitchen and following him down the hallway, he stopped in front of the 4th room on the left.
“Here’s where the porcelain throne stands.” The bathroom. Of course it was going to be the fucking bathroom.
You stepped into the bathroom that was easily bigger than your entire bedroom. Chenle on the other hand bent down and opened the cabinets underneath the sink. “So I don’t know if you’re allergic to any of these products, so I bought you these gloves. The chemical in the orange bottle makes my hands red so, be careful with that one.” You watched as he placed everything on top of the vanity.
Chenle stood back up and handed you the pale pink rubber gloves. “I wanted them to match your outfit.” You grimaced when you looked around the bathroom. For being so rich, the stereotypical housekeeper was nowhere to be seen.
“That’s why I have you.” Your body was facing the mirror and when you looked up to see the voice, Chenle’s mouth was against your ear. Apparently, you had said that out loud. “You’re my pretty little maid. We made a deal and I’m gonna use you in any way I want until you either back out or I’ve had enough.”
He gave your ear an open-mouthed kiss, lightly slapped your thigh where your skin showed and left.
We made a deal and I’m gonna use you in any way I want until you either back out or I’ve had enough.
He wants to sleep with you. Or that’s what he made it seem like.
Not knowing where to start, you decided on cleaning the floor last, just so if anything dripped onto it, you wouldn’t have to clean it twice. 
You were immediately thankful for your thinking since as soon as you picked up one of the spray bottles, it leaked onto the floor once you spritzed onto the washcloth.
Rolling your eyes to yourself, you went ahead and put on the gloves just in case anything else leaked unexpectedly. The gloves were your size which was helpful, you wouldn’t have to worry about the glove sliding down while you were cleaning.
Pulling the gloves on your hands and up to the middle of your forearms, you closed your eyes and randomly picked another bottle. Letting fate decide which disgusting bathroom appliance of Chenle’s you’d have to clean first.
Opening your eyes, bottle in hand, you read the description. You kneeled down by the edge of the bathtub, leaned against the side and started spraying around the tub.
You didn’t mind cleaning, you felt as if it was oddly therapeutic. Spraying the liquid, wiping it away, and watching all the gunk disappear. It was easy to let your mind slip and wander as the hypnotic sight played out in front of you.
The bathtub, toilet, mirrors, sink, and vanities were all clean after about 45 minutes. Your mind wandering definitely caused you to move a bit slower than normal but at least it went by fast. Reaching for more floor cleaner, Chenle walked into the room and just stood there. Stood there and watched you clean.
Tired of his watchful eyes, you abruptly stopped and slapped your covered thighs in annoyance. “Can I help you?” He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed and a stupid smirk plastered onto his face. He shook his head and continued to watch. “Then why are you looking at me?” You refused to clean one more tile until you knew why he was standing there.
“Am I not allowed to look at my maid? She’s really pretty, it’s hard not to stare when I’ve got her kneeling on the floor for me.” Rolling your eyes at him, you reached for the bottle with the goal of ignoring him. “And now I’ve got her rolling her eyes back!” No matter how annoying he was at this moment, you laughed at him and threw the rag you were using to clean the floor with at him.
“Oh my god, fuck off man.” He caught the flying rag that was headed towards his face and grinned. “Nah I just wanted to tell you that I’ve got sandwiches on the table for lunch.” Chenle reached his hand out to you and shook it lightly, telling you to grab it. Placing your hand in the warmth of his, he helped you off the floor and led you to the kitchen. Your head hurt from the intense smell of his expensive cologne, the feeling of his hand still holding yours, and the thought of him making sandwiches himself, for you.
Pulling away from him to pour yourself some lemonade, with a shaking hand you picked it up by the handle and used the spout of the pitcher to ensure that nothing spilled out. Watching the pale-yellow drink pour into the cup, you listened to Chenle behind you. The crinkle sound the bag of chips made solved the mystery of where he was standing.
When your cup was full you placed the glass pitcher back down on the counter, the soft clink letting you know it was secure. Turning around to sit down at the table, you didn’t know that Chenle had also moved but he was now right behind you. Your chests collided, causing you to spill the lemonade on yourself and Chenle.
“I’m so sorry, it was an accident!” You could hear the drink drip on the floor but all you were concerned about was the stain that was surely going to be on his shirt in a few minutes. The stark white behind the yellow worried you. “Take off your shirt, let me spray it and go throw it in the washer.” His silence scared you more than the stain. He hadn’t said anything but when you looked up at him with wide eyes, he was just smiling while watching you panic.
“Haven’t even been here for an hour and you already wanna rip my clothes off.” He tsked in a mocking way but nonetheless he took off his shirt. When you reached for the shirt, he threw it behind him but stepped closer to you.
His face was so close to yours and quite frankly, you didn’t know what to do. You knew what you wanted to do, but that was a whole different thing.
“Chenle, we shouldn’t.” He backed you into the kitchen island, watching your every move. “Why not?” He looked into your frantic eyes that were searching for a way out. Chenle placed his hands on the counter at your sides, slightly behind you, caging you in.
“T-the deal?” You assumed it was obvious but as you said it, you knew it didn’t make sense and you were screwed. “I think we both know that this-” he pointed between the two of you, “-isn’t a part of the deal.” He was right. You hated him but that didn’t mean you didn’t want him.
He took another step closer to you, the space that was once between you was now gone. “All you gotta do is tell me to stop. I will stop, immediately.” As his lips moved, they brushed against yours.
“Push me away and I’ll stop this. You can go back to cleaning.” You would’ve laughed at him if you weren’t starting to get wet. The thought of Chenle doing whatever sick things he wanted to do to you took over your common sense and hatred.
You stood up on your toes, teasing his lips with yours before pressing them together.
Instead of laughing at you and cracking some perverted joke, Chenle caressed your uniformed sides. Continuing to kiss you, he leaned back, allowing you to put your full weight on him. His chest was much firmer than you originally thought. Under the baggy clothes he wore was a muscular, sculpted body. As much as you enjoyed feeling him, you wanted to see him.
“Chenle-” The name that whispered out was one you never would’ve thought you’d say in this way. He didn’t say anything back, but he knew exactly what you wanted. Chenle grazed the exposed skin between your thigh highs and the hem of your skirt. Those gentle touches turn rough as he picked you up by the back of your thighs. He held you close and just looked at you a bit when the movement broke the kiss.
The expression that painted his face could only be explained by confusion. He was internally battling with himself over the situation, much like yourself. The years of fighting and insults and tears were ignored by your lower halves, which were begging for something, anything.
Still without exchanging any words, Chenle turned around so he could see where you were headed, and you couldn’t. While he took you to whichever room in his apartment he wanted, you set yourself a personal goal of marking him. You placed both wet and sucking open-mouthed kisses along the column of his pale neck. His steps faltered a tad when you assumed you found his sweet spot. You didn’t hold back there, sucking the skin hard enough to leave an immediate red mark.
Chenle’s breath was heavy now, more than before. He feared that you had control over him, but whether it was because of the deal or the feeling in your bodies, it was the opposite. Feeling so wrapped up in your own world of bruising his neck, you didn’t realize how far he had walked.
You gasped as your back hit the bed and then giggled once you bounced. Chenle was standing at the foot of the bed, looming over your flushed figure. You went to make eye contact with him only to see that his eyes weren’t on yours. His were so clearly focused on your thighs. Your skirt was pushed up from your impact on the bed and your thighs were pressed against each other. While seeing that he wasn’t looking at you did make your heart ache a bit, but you quickly decided to use it to your advantage.
While still watching him, you slowly parted your thighs are raised your skirt even more. This allowed him to see your white panties that now had a very visible wet spot from your arousal.
“My pretty maid has such a pretty pussy.”  
“You haven’t even seen it yet.”
“That’s right, maybe you should take off your panties. Please let me see you.”
His voice had a whiny edge to it. Desperation laced it and it caused you to give in. Using your heels, you lifted your hips off the bed and hooked your fingers in the waistband of your panties and slipped them down your legs. They were still hanging off of one of your ankles, so you lifted your leg and brought the panties towards his face.
“My maid is a little tease too.” Chenle grabbed the panties from your ankle and brought them up to his nose. As the smell of your arousal entered his nostrils, his eyes rolled back, and a red tint covered his face.
Crawling on the bed towards your head, he planted kisses along your clothed body, letting out boyish giggles when he felt you twitch from it tickling. When his face was hovering over yours, you pulled him down by the back of his neck and smashed your lips together.
His tongue licked across the seam of your lips, pleading for entry, and who were you to deny him. Chenle’s smile was so obvious that you could feel it in the smile. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his slim waist, keeping him as close as possible to you.
You tilted your head a bit, trying to get his lips on yours even more, if that was even possible. He matched movements, seemingly trying to do the same. Moans and laughs were the only things heard throughout the room, until a ringing sounded.
“Fuck! My fucking phone.” Chenle grumbled, several apologies and quick kisses were landed along your body as he picked himself up and grabbed the ringing phone that was on the nightstand.
“I’m” kiss “so” kiss “fucking” kiss “sorry”. You laughed at him and nodded, letting him up by releasing your legs’ grip on him. Chenle rolled his eyes, mimicked his father’s voice but nonetheless answered the phone before the ringing stopped.
Immediately the conversation turned serious, and he stepped out of the room. As soon as his figure disappeared into the hallway, the feeling of lust and lightheadedness left your body and shame took over. What the hell was that.
Your body was cold now, no longer embraced by the heat of Chenle’s body pressed against yours. But the cold sweat and the dry throat was enough to force you out of bed and towards the bathroom. Walking on your tippytoes to prevent any noise, you made your way to the bathroom.
Closing the door slowly, making sure the door didn’t creak, you splashed cold water on your face and cupped water in your hands and brought them up to your lips.
The cold water running down your throat soothed you, but still not as much as you needed it to. You almost had sex with Chenle. You liked it. And you were upset that you were interrupted.
Looking in the mirror, laughing at yourself, you shook your head and opened the door. Jumping a bit at the sight of Chenle leaning on the wall next to it, he was still on the phone.
He was slouching and opening and closing his mouth in a mocking sense of his father. He smiled at the giggle you let out. Chenle’s smile faded though, his expression turning solemn again. He looked at you and you looked at him, both of you silently agreeing that it was your time to leave.
With one last glance, you made your way out, but you could still feel his eyes following you, watching you leave. You had to stay strong and resist the urge to look behind you. Although difficult, you succeeded. It was difficult to understand what you were feeling, you hated him, and he hated you, but you wanted him, and he wanted you. You didn’t have to like someone to be attracted to them.
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As soon as you knocked on the door, Chenle opened it and pulled you in with your wrist. “Chenle, wha-” He interrupted you by kissing your mouth, not even giving you time to react before he started talking. “I just need you, I wanna try something new that I saw.” Every type of kink was flying through your mind, or at least the ones you haven’t tried yet. “Are you okay with this?”
“Yeah, what is it though?” Chenle walked you to the master bedroom, him leading you from behind. Every time he tightened his grip on your waist, you clenched your thighs, wondering what he had planned.
“I bought you some more maid dresses, some like your uniform and others, not so much. I just didn’t want you to ruin your uniform.” He opened the armoire that hadn’t been there the last time you were there. The opened doors revealed several different dresses from pink to black and others that weren’t traditional collars. They ranged from different styles and materials, but they all had one thing in common, they were obviously expensive. With the dresses hanging from a rod at the top, there was about a half of foot of space from the dresses to the bottom of the section of the armoire.
Before you said anything about what you saw, Chenle spoke up. “I know how much you like the Mary Jane heels, so I bought you a bunch of different kinds and you can keep all of them even after the deal.” You turned around to face him and smiled.
“I can’t believe this, thank you so much!” You walked over to him; heels clicking on the hard wood floors and kissed his cheek. “That isn’t all.” His words trailed on, he refused to look at you, and he scratched the back of his neck. But the thing that made you giggle was the blush that spread across his entire face.
This Chenle was different, he was more vulnerable which allowed you to relax a bit even with the sexual undertone. “The drawers.” He pointed to the four drawers that were built in, under the doors of the armoire.
Raising one of your eyebrows, you walked backwards still keeping an eye on Chenle who still refused to look at you. Turning around and kneeling, you opened the first drawer, the top one on the left. As soon as everything inside was in your view, you heard Chenle make a slapping noise.
When you looked behind you, over your shoulder, he was covering his eyes with his right hand. Looking back at the drawer, you felt the fabric of the several sets of lingerie. Some were classier, babydoll styles with sheer fabric to cover the skin and others were blatantly sexy, garter belts, hooks and rings, matched with crotchless panties.
“Oh my god Chenle, what a fucking freak.” Your voice was laced with tease, making sure Chenle knew that you weren’t truly making fun of him. His ears were now burning red, and you were worried that he’d start crying soon.
Opening the drawer next to the one you were in now; you saw even more sets of lingerie. You coughed at the thought of the price of all of them. “Okay, okay, I thought you’d look pretty in them, so I bought them, move on.” Laughing at Chenle’s pleading groan, you smiled but complied. Closing the drawers and moving on to the bottom ones.
You decided to just open them both at the same time, ripping it off like a Band-Aid. “Chenle-” Gasping at the sight that was in front of you. You didn’t think you’ve ever seen this many different sex toys in one place. Dildos, vibrators, gags, collars, leases, floggers, candles, and that wasn’t even it. There were things that you didn’t even know what they were.
“Are these for me too?” Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. You never would’ve thought that Chenle would spend this much money on you. You closed the drawers, got up, and approached Chenle who was still seated at the foot of his bed.
You pushed his chest back, causing his back to hit the bed. With him now lying flat, you climbed on top of him, straddling him. “What kind of shit do you want to do to me? Huh?” You laid your chest on his, your breasts pressing against him now.
His hands enclosed around your hips and pulled you closer to his face. “I wanna make you cry and beg.” Biting your lip at his words, you got up off of him and looked at your new collection of dresses. “You got me all worked up, what do you wanna do first?”
You looked through all the toys in the drawers, looking at all the ones you weren’t familiar with. “This dress, these heels, and this toy.” Chenle threw the dress behind him at the bed and picked up the heels and the toy that kind of resembled an oxygen mask.
“What even is that?” You followed Chenle to the bed and tried to figure out what exactly was the thing he was holding. “It’s a pussy pump. It’s gonna make that tiny pussy all swollen and sensitive for me.” Oh.
“I’ll leave you to put on the dress, just call me in when you’re ready.” He kissed your head and walked out, leaving you alone with yourself.
You kicked off your heels after unbuckling them. It took a few tries to reach the zipper behind you but after you got it and pulled down, the dress pooled at your feet.
“Do you want me to leave my bra and panties on?” Chenle didn’t pick out a set, so you weren’t sure of what he wanted. “No, just the dress and heels.”
Unhooking your bra and pulling down your panties, you picked up the dress and just looked at it a bit. You hadn’t gotten to see it when he pulled it out of the closet. It was a pink frilly one, really short too. Looking over at the pussy pump that Chenle picked out, you thought about what it would do to you. You knew that it would basically do from what he had said but Chenle didn’t say what it would actually do.
Deciding to just wait for Chenle to help you through it, you pulled the dress over your head. There wasn’t a zipper, the hem that held the bust up was just elastic, so it fitted.
The way you looked at yourself in the mirror and assessed the way you looked reminded you of how you would prepare for a shift. You felt pretty in frills at work, and you felt pretty right now, standing in Chenle’s penthouse bedroom in a pink dress that he bought for you. ‘
From the way your hair sat to the way your socks were tugged up, you made sure you looked pretty with Chenle in mind.
“I’m all done!” You called out and waited for Chenle to walk back in. Calming your breathing to make sure you could hear Chenle’s footsteps didn’t help, because they never came. The door immediately opened with Chenle walking in.
“Were you just waiting right out the door?” You made eye contact with him through the mirror. Even though you expected a verbal answer to your question, you received something else. A compliment.
“You look so pretty. My pretty maid. My pretty girl.” He walked up behind you, still holding eye contact and wrapped his arms around your waist. You liked the weight of his arms on your hips, and he liked the way it felt to have your skin touching his. When you turned your head to look at him directly, your noses lightly knocked against each other from close proximity.
Chenle squeezed your hips and started walking you backwards, leaving wet kisses on your neck until the back of his knees hit his bed. He sat down and just pulled you down with him. Both of you were still facing the mirror. “I want you to watch yourself during this. Since we’re bringing in new and more intense things into the bedroom, what do you want you safe word to be. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have any control.”
With how short the dress was, being spread out on Chenle’s lap bared everything to your eyes. Your knees were hooked over his and since his legs were spread, so were yours. The obscene sight was the only thing you could pay attention do. The warm lighting made the both of you glow, and with Chenle’s sincere look, you relaxed in his hold and allowed yourself to slouch against him.
“I get that you’re really pretty, but this is important. I’m gonna need you to answer me if you wanna start.” He spoke quietly against your ear and looked at you through the mirror since it was the only thing you were paying attention to you.
“Look at me.” Through the mirror, your eyes connected. “No, look at me.” Sucking in a breath, you turned your head to look at Chenle. “So, what do you want your safe word to be?” His fingers lightly brushed your thighs, drawing shapes along your smooth skin.
Giggling, you thought about a word that was a bit silly and on theme. “How about Windex?” Chenle’s normal obnoxious laugh was dialed down for the serious conversation. “I mean, if that’s what you want it to be, I’m happy with it. However, I hope to never put you in a situation where you need to use it.” Your giggling died down and you smiled softly at Chenle, you wanted to live in the sweet moment, but with Chenle’s half hard cock sitting against your ass, your pussy spread out, and the pussy pump next to you, you needed him to do something.
“Alright, it feels like you’re getting needy with all your squirming, let’s get you wet.”
Chenle started with just looking at you through the mirror, at your pussy specifically. “Chenle, just hurry. Please.” He laughed at you and brought his hands from your thighs to your naval. He rubbed the junction of your thighs and naval, inching closer and closer to that place you needed him the most.
With one last whimper from you, Chenle gave in to what you wanted. He ran two fingers through your wet lips. He circled around your hole that was clenching around nothing, but he still didn’t fuck you yet.
“How are you so fucking wet already?” It was a rhetorical question. He knew the answer and so did you. It was because of him.
One of his hands disappeared from your cunt and picked up something from your side. The pussy pump.
He kissed the back of your neck and placed the chamber on your pussy after removing his other hand, now using it to hold the pump.
In his left hand he held the chamber to you and with his right was the pump. He gave the hand pump an experimental pump to see if it would stay. Like a vacuum, it gave your pussy a suctioned feel. It wasn’t like what you’ve seen with a penis pump. It didn’t blow air into you, instead it sucked it.
Giving it a few more pumps, Chenle watched and listened to you. Whining at the new feeling, you looked at yourself. “Chenle, it feels really weird.” He chuckled lowly in your ear and instead of saying something he just pumped it again and again.
You watched what it was doing to you through the mirror. “Oh my god, Chenle!” He didn’t give you a break during it, he pumped it, listened to your noises and then continued with his ministrations.
Tears formed in your eyes at the feeling.
You didn’t think that Chenle could possibly pump it again as the chamber was impossibly tight around your cunt, but he was able to prove you wrong.
It wasn’t your pleas or begs that persuaded him to stop. It was his own impatience. He flicked the valve and released the suction. The blood flow returned to your cunt and your clit throbbed, already so sensitive and Chenle himself has barely touched you.
The chamber fell from no longer being supported and you gasped at the sight. He wasn’t joking when he said it would cause your pussy to be swollen and you didn’t know how long it would last like that. You didn’t even move, scared to feel it.
“Oh my god, fucking look at it.” Chenle flicked your clit that had easily grown twice its original size. You screamed at the feeling, it felt as if he had already been touching you, for the whole day possibly. “How long is this gonna last?” Your thighs jumped when he ran three fingers through your folds. Playing with the swollen flesh and wetness, he thought out loud. “Imagine you stayed like this forever, ruined for anyone to ever come after me. Proof that you let me do these things to you. Think about what people would think if they saw you like this. Fucking whore.”
He slapped, pinched, and stuffed your pussy, forcing you to let out gasps, moans, and screams. It wasn’t until you felt his cock prod at your dripping hole. You had felt him get his cock out of his sweats, but you thought he was going to give you a minute before he fucked you.
“Wait, Chenle, just give me a moment.” He complied but still asked, “Do you want to use your safe word?” Shaking your head, you leaned back against Chenle, starting to take a breather. It quickly came to an end though when his hands tightened around your waist, picked you up, and placed you on the ground.
“While you wait, you’re gonna clean.” He smiled and threw you one of the old towels that he used to clean. You stared at him in disbelief, jaw dropping once you saw him scoot back on the bed, back against the headboard.
“What? You want to wait, but we might as well be productive during it. And get your tits out.” The stark difference of Chenle’s attitude towards you was something you were ashamed to admit that it made you wet.
Still listening to him though, you pulled the bust of your dress down and let the elastic snap under your breasts.
You got up from your spot on the floor to go grab the floor cleaner. When you walked your pussy clenched from sensitivity. “The floor isn’t gonna clean itself and at this point you’re just gonna have more to clean with the way your dripping all over it.” When you were standing over your original spot on the floor, about to kneel down you noticed that there were small droplets from you. Chenle just laughed when you looked down, not being able to hold eye contact with him.
Deciding to go ahead and start cleaning, you sprayed some of the floor cleaner on the rag and started to scrub the floor. “My pretty little mindless doll.” His voice was gentle with a hint of being condescending. Every time you would scrub the floor a bit harder your breasts would bounce and Chenle would palm his aching cock with more pressure.
Even though you had only been on the ground for a few minutes, you needed him to do something. You didn’t want to wait any longer. You needed to be fucked. “Chenle, please. Do something, anything.” His smile turned devious and soon after, you felt the flash and heard the click of a polaroid camera.
Chenle waited for the film to develop before he approached you. Crouching down to your level, he placed the humiliating photo in your line of sight. “Who’s is that?”
When you were about to say it was you, you realized that he said, ‘who’s is that’ not ‘who is that’. “Yours.” Smiling and placing the photo in his phone case, he helped you off the floor.
“Even though you’re a slut who doesn’t deserve to be fucked on a bed, you can rest your knees just since I’m nice.” His grip on your upper arm helped him throw you onto the bed. Your skirt lifted in the process and showed Chenle the curve of your ass.
“Spread your legs. Now.”
Laying on your stomach, you did what you were told. Chenle stood behind you, watching you listen to him. “Such a good little maid. My little slut.” Chenle ran his palm over the smooth skin of your ass before landing a harsh slap on it. He felt his dick twitch at the sight of the muscle jiggling at the impact.
“I need to be in you, need to cum inside that sweet pussy.” Climbing on the bed, knees on either side of your hips, Chenle pulled your ass a part as far as your would stretch before slamming inside your dripping hole.
“Fuck! Chenle! Feel so, so good.” Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his cock dragging against your gummy walls.
With every thrust in your cunt, you could feel Chenle’s balls slap against your thighs, and every now and then you felt a slap against your ass.
“Yeah, this is what you were made for huh, just a hole for me to dump my cum into. But don’t worry slut, you’re the best whore there is, so willing to take everything I give you.” To emphasize his point, Chenle ran his finger through your swollen folds and flicked your puffy clit, reminding you of what you allowed him to do to your body.
Never once slowing his pace, Chenle tightened his grip on your hips and pulled your ass up off the bed, so he’d have better access to your clit. With the new position, your weight was being held up by your knees and chest, but with the angle of your body, your face was smashed into the mattress, muffling every noise that came out of your mouth. 
Your pussy throbbed, needing to release already. With the pussy pump, it felt like Chenle had already had his way with you, several times. The feeling of his fingers flicking and pinching your clit plus the head of his cock kissing the spot deep inside you was making you feel overstimulated, even though you haven’t even cum yet.
“Chenle, please, please, let me cum. I need it.” Rolling the bud between his pointer finger and thump, Chenle added pressure, squeezing it. “Yeah, go ahead, but just because you’re cumming so quick doesn’t mean we’re stopping any time soon.”
Deciding that Chenle’s trade wasn’t a now issue, you agreed foolishly. The need to cum was the only thing on your mind and once Chenle gave you permission, you let go. However, you didn’t think you would cum as much as you did.
Screaming into the blankets, you soaked Chenle’s waist and torso, squirting harder and harder as Chenle kept going. “My messy little baby, I told you, I’m not done playing with you yet. But that little pussy controls you huh, you just couldn’t help it!” Chenle laughed at you, mockingly.
“The only thing in that empty little head is thought of cumming on my dick.” Chenle fisted your hair from the back and forced your head to nod up and down into the blanket. “Wow, you’re already so cock drunk that you can’t even make your own decisions. Don’t worry though baby, I’m here so you don’t have to worry about thinking, I’ll do everything for you.”
Every single word that left Chenle’s lips were spoken in a sickeningly sweet tone that was so obviously fake. His words affected you heavily and that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Ah, little slut likes being talked down to! M’not sure why I’m surprised, I bet you’ve always wanted this, me using you, belittling you. Because that’s what sluts like you want.”
Once again, he forced you to nod, but it wasn’t like you disagreed.
“Come on pretty baby, lemme see you. Let me see what you look like while I ruin you.” Without taking his dick out, Chenle rolled you over and onto your back.
With each thrust Chenle watched your tits, occasionally reaching out and slapping the soft mounds. He could feel your walls clench around his pistoling cock. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The feeling of your walls, the outline of his dick in your lower stomach, and the look on your face, he knew he was about to cum, and he wasn’t going to pull out to do it.
“You wanna cum?” You nodded, eyes rolled back, and jaw hung open, you were ready. Chenle’s pace sped up and each time he hit your g-spot, forcing you closer and closer to the edge.
Finally, with one last strong thrust from him, the knot in your stomach unraveled. Squeezing his dick impossibly tight, he came as well.
White heat ran through your veins, your vision had gone white, and you held on to Chenle’s shoulders since you needed literally anything to hold on to. You needed something to ground you. Chenle continued to roll his hips, riding out your highs and then some so you weren’t forced into a sudden stop.
“Chenle~”, you whined, wanting him closer to your shaking body. He understood and lowered himself onto you without crushing you under his weight. He signed into your neck, breathing you in and out. You did the same to him, hiding from the world, protected by his warmth.  
The two of you stayed in that position for a while. It wasn’t until Chenle could feel your wetness dry on his skin before he slowly pulled out and coxed you to use the bathroom.
Although moving was the last thing you wanted, you still allowed him to scoop you up, but not without whining of course.
Chenle placed your feet on the ground and made sure that you were steady before he helped you out of your dress. Your heels were long gone, somewhere discarded on the floor, but they weren’t anywhere in your mind at the moment.
He stepped out of the bathroom, telling you to use the bathroom so you wouldn’t get a UTI. You listened but called him back in once you were done and washed up.
“Let’s take a shower, get you all clean.” He smiled at you and helped you into the walk-in shower.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clocking out of your shift, you walked into the dark night. You were so happy that they put more streetlights in the parking lot, you and Minjeong both agreed that you felt so much safer now with the illuminated area. However, no matter how many lights they installed, with how much rain was pouring from the sky, you couldn’t see anything. And to make matters even worse, you didn’t even have an umbrella.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Your heels splashed in the puddles as you dug in your purse for your car keys. Of course, right now was the time that your keys fell to the bottom of your purse, and you actually had to stop outside your car and dig around. The rain was stingingly painful. It was freezing cold and felt like little needles pricking your skin.
Your hand brushed metal that jingled in your purse. Almost ripping the keys out, you clicked unlock and as soon as you heard your doors click you ripped the door open and threw yourself in the seat.
Shivering in your seat, your body was even colder now that you were out of the rain. Your dress had gone see through and it was sticking to your body. Turning on the car and immediately cranking the heat to the warmest setting and so it would come out the fastest.
Not eve waiting for your car to warm up, you put the car in drive and pulled out of your parking spot and out of the lot. The shivering didn’t stop or even slow until you had been driving for several minutes but then you were almost at your apartment.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Your parking in your designated parking spot outside the complex was definitely not good to say the least. The passenger side of the car was on the line and even then, you were crooked within the lines. But you didn’t care, you had gone over the speed limit the entire drive there and you weren’t about to take extra minutes in the rain to fix it.
Making sure you had everything together, you cracked the door open, made sure all the doors were locked, and then made a run for the awning. Once again, you were colder after you were no longer in the rain, and you could barely hear yourself panting over the loud pitter padders of the rain above you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You sniffled, sucking the snot back into your nose. Your head was throbbing, and it hurt to swallow. But nevertheless, you were walking out of the elevator once it arrived at Chenle’s floor. The thought of texting Chenle to say that you were sick crossed your mind, but you decided against it. Your past self would kill you if the thought of enjoying Chenle’s company, his cock, crossed your mind.
Clearing your throat and sniffling once more, you knocked on his door. You liked spending time with Chenle and based on him always answering the door immediately, you thought the feeling was returned.
“Hey, oh my god, are you okay?” So much for the bit of extra makeup to try and put the life back into your face. “I’m fine! Now, let me in.” Chenle moved to let you in, but he didn’t believe your words in the slightest. “You’re obviously sick, when did you start feeling this way? I saw you two days ago, and you were okay.”
“I got stuck in the rain last night for a bit after my shift, but I promise, I’m okay! What do you want me to clean first?” His eyes were wide with concern as he watched you shrug off your jacket and headed to the cabinet where he held the cleaning supplies.
Stepping in your way, he placed his hands on your shoulders. “Woah, woah, woah. You’re not gonna clean anything right now. But what you are going to do is go put on some more comfortable clothes and lay down.” You were confused why Chenle wasn’t just making you leave, but your screaming joints and muscles were louder than your worries. On shaking feet, you walked towards Chenle’s room, his closet specifically.
Not daring to even touch the designer sweatpants and baggy shirts, you looked for the brand that was the cheapest. Nike. His cheapest brand was Nike and even then, the pants and shirts were the most expensive of them. Kicking off your heels and taking off the long socks, you unzipped your dress and stepped out of it. Just in your bra and panties, you took Chenle’s clothes off their respective hangers and tugged the pants up your legs and the shirt over your head.
The floors were cold under your feet, from the hardwood in his bedroom and to the marble of the kitchen, it all caused a chill to run down your spine. It was either that, the fact that you were sick, or because of the domestic nature of wearing Chenle’s clothes.
“Do you feel any better?” The loose clothes felt better on your warm skin than your dress did, and you let Chenle know that. “I’m glad.” He kissed the side of your head as he rounded the kitchen island to retrieve his phone which was on the other side. “What do you want to eat? Hopefully having some solid food in your stomach will make you feel better.” You just nodded and tangled your fingers together, thinking about what sounded good.
“If you want soup there’s a place with a really good French onion down the street. But if-” he scrolled on his phone as he spoke out options until you interrupted him. “French onion sounds good.” You smiled at him. Even though you were smiling at him on the inside, you were frowning at yourself on the inside, mad that you were allowing yourself to feel comfortable around him so quickly.
“It’s really good, don’t worry.” He somehow could see your worry. The corners of your lips turned upwards at the sight of him dialing the number of the restaurant and placing your order. You wanted him to come closer, to wrap you up in his arms, cornering you, making you feel safe. You hated the feeling, but at the same time, you wanted nothing more.
“Chenle-” You finished just as quickly as you had started. He looked up from his phone, eyes boring into yours, watching you so intently that you thought that if you moved, he’d look away. You felt frozen as he looked at you, waiting for you to finish what you were saying. The words disappeared somewhere in the space between you two, lost in the chilled air.
He had no use for his phone anymore, so he placed it back on the white marble countertop and walked over to you. Even though his body moved, his eyes stayed still, continuing to hold your gaze. Once you could feel the heat radiating off his body and onto yours, you looked away, no longer able to hold eye contact. He said your name just like you had said his, quietly, slowly, longingly.
Looking back up at him, your lips ghosted the other’s. Not even a centimeter apart. The air you breathed out was the air he breathed in, and vice versa. Your noses brushed the other’s as you interlocked lips.
When you went to lace your hands in his hair, you felt the familiar tickle in your nose. Knowing immediately what was to come, you pushed Chenle away, turned, brought your elbow up to your face, and sneezed.
Chenle laughed as you wiped your nose. He tugged your closer to him and hugged you, your back to his chest. “Sorry for pushing you away, I didn’t want to sneeze on you.” Sniffling and giggling, you looked at him and smiled. “I appreciate that.” His smile gave you chills. It was so genuine; you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
You just wanted to stare at him, but your body had other plans. That first sneeze wasn’t the last. You broke free from Chenle’s arms and sneezed again, three times in a row. Your head was throbbing at this point and the sneezing didn’t help whatsoever.
Chenle noticed the sway in your stand. The dazed look in your glossed over eyes told him that you needed to lie down. “Alrighty baby, it’s time to lay you down.” He wrapped his left arm around your waist and put your weight onto him.
Baby. He called you baby.
Chenle walked you to his room, slowly, making sure that you wouldn’t fall. “My head hurts Lele.”
If your eyes weren’t almost swollen shut, you would’ve seen the blush that covered his entire face. All the way to his ears and down his neck.
Lele. You called him Lele.
“I know, we’ll lay down and hopefully it’ll be gone when you wake up.” Chenle helped you lay down. He whispered that he’d be back in a minute, and he was gone.
Closing your eyes, you brought the plush blankets up to your chin and fluttered your legs a bit, nestling in his soft bed. The burring that came with keeping them open immediately vanished. Your skin was hot even though you felt cold. The heat that the blankets provided was much appreciated.
However, you shivered as soon as something freezing hit your forehead.
“Chenle?” When you were about to open your eyes, Chenle shushed you. “It’s a washcloth. We need to break your fever before it gets worse.” You let him know about your disapproval by grumbling, but you didn’t state your complaint verbally.
He laughed at the noise and made his way around the bed to his side of it. “M’tired Lele.” He agreed and pulled your body closer to his.
Sleep came easily for both of you; however, sleep wasn’t interested in staying for you. Every couple of minutes you would wake up, toss and turn for a bit, and then fall back asleep. It wasn’t until Chenle felt this routine for about the umpteenth time before he wrapped his arms around your body tightly and pulled your back to his chest. Your half-awake mind decided that this position was comfortable enough, as you didn’t wake up again until hours later.
Your eyes stayed shut even after you woke up, the headache returned immediately, and you were determined to continue to sleep until you were no longer sick. But your goal was easily washed away when your pillow rumbled. The soft cushion moved at the same time you heard quiet laughter. A slight weight on top of your head joined the new sensations. But that weight didn’t still, it moved down your head, ran through your hair.
Deciding to fight against the crust that had built up around your eyes, you moved your hand up to your face and wiped the crust away with your fingertips. Once you deemed your eyes free of any annoyances, you opened them. The immediate sight was heavily blurred, the light fixture above you seemed extra bright but with the soft warm hue, you were able to get used to it quickly and soon you figured out that your rumbling pillow was Chenle’s thigh, and that weight was his hand massaging your head.
“Lele~”, your voice was drawn out, still deep and husky with sleep but Chenle understood you and smiled gently down at you. “How did you sleep? You were out for a while.” You sat up slightly to be upright and next to Chenle, but your straight posture didn’t last long, and you slouched into his side. “I still don’t feel good.” Without saying anything Chenle felt your forehead again, frowned, and picked up some water from the nightstand next to him.
The cold glass that was being brought up to your lips was the only thing that made you realize just how thirsty you really were. Chenle helped you drink the water slowly as your hands were still laced with that sleepy weakness. The soothing feeling of the water was welcomed, helping your sore throat significantly.
Silence filled the room, except for the TV playing some show that caused Chenle to laugh occasionally and your heavy breathing through your mouth as your nose was clogged. During a particularly quiet part of the show, your breathing was audible to Chenle, and you laughed. “I’m sorry for being a mouth-breather during your show.” Your apology made him laugh in which he gently assured you that it was okay and he’s sorry you feel so terrible.
“So, what did you do while I was asleep?” Pure curiosity got the best of you, and you wanted the visualization of what Chenle does when he’s alone. “Well, I was asleep with you for about two hours but when I woke up, I just stayed next to you in case you needed anything. I watched the movie I needed to for my communications class and I’m now ahead in most of my classes.” You were glad that your chest wasn’t pressed to Chenle because he definitely would’ve felt the tempo of the beating speed up. He stayed with you.
You would honestly, whole-heartedly say that you didn’t mind being sick. Chenle had treated you with a gentle tenderness that you didn’t think he was capable of. The thought of your guys’ feud and hatred for each other made you sad for the first time ever.
But you pushed the negative notion away and snuggled into Chenle even more, loving the unspoken reward of his arm wrapping around your shoulder, holding you securely to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the second month of your deal. Your knees hurt from kneeling on the floor to scrub the floors and your hands hurt from all the chemicals since you refused to use the gloves that he bought you. You refused to use anything Chenle had bought you if it was him attempting to be nice. Even though you two had had your moments, you couldn’t shake the thought of him just using you in some way.
Knocking on the door, you were expecting Chenle to make you wait and then finally greet you with a sleezy smile. But what you were met with made you step back. Chenle swung the door open and stepped forward.
“Let me see your hands and knees.” Instead of listening to him, you hid, you hid your hands behind your back and looked away. “I’m not fucking asking, show me your hands and knees.”
Chenle’s eyes showed that he wasn’t joking, this was the most serious or angry you have ever seen him. He stepped aside and nodded towards his apartment, urging you do walk in. You decided it would be better to listen to him and when you passed him and he’d be able to see your hands, you moved them to hide in front of you. But it didn’t work because as soon as your hands weren’t interlocked with each other, Chenle wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled your arm up.
He gasped at the discolored splotches of your skin, where the skin was rubbed raw, and bumps were forming in some spots. “This is why I bought you gloves.” His voice wasn’t stern anymore, more so remorseful.
“Come on, I have some ointment for this.” His fingers intertwined with yours, and he lightly pulled you to the bathroom. Chenle’s hands were nice and cold, a good contrast to the heated and irritated skin of your own.
You unfortunately knew where his bathroom was. It reminded you of the first day of this mess. But based on Chenle’s change in attitude, you had a feeling that this bathroom would bring a new memory.
When he led you to the bathroom, he didn’t say a single thing. He didn’t make fun of you or scold you or degrade you. Instead he waited until your back was in front of the vanity. He bent down and wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and gently placed you on top of the bathroom counter.
“Is it alright if I roll down your socks?” His face was level with yours. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded at him but looked away when you felt his hands on your thighs.
His pale fingers lingered on your skin longer than they needed to, but it was comfortable. Chenle did what he said he would and pulled down your socks. You could hear his swallow once he saw the dark blue bruises that littered your knees.
“I even bought you the best knee pads I could find so this wouldn’t happen.” He shook his head and turned around. He rustled through the medicine cabinet. You assumed he was looking for the ointment he had mentioned.
While his back was turned to you, you looked at his outfit. He was wearing a black fitted muscle tee and gray sweatpants. If you weren’t so embarrassed, you probably would’ve been drooling on any other day.
“Alright, this one is for your hands and this one will help the bruises heal faster.” He looked back at you and popped up one of the caps. “This one is going to burn a bit where the cuts are a bit open but that just mean it’s working.”
Chenle took one of your hands into his, cradling it with upmost care. He dapped the cream on your hand and allowed you to squeeze his own when the burning kicked in. He never said anything to you when your legs twitched at the pain. He made sure all the white liquid was rubbed in and no longer burning.
“And we’re done with your hands. The bruise ointment doesn’t hurt at all, it’ll feel almost cold, but it’ll be more soothing than anything.” You appreciated that he was walking you through everything he was doing without making you feel dumb and with the look he gave you, you felt anything but that.
You were pulled out of your daze when he brought your hands up to his lips one by one and planted a gentle kiss on ever irritated spot. Chenle didn’t look up at you when he did this, nor did he when he explained himself. “My mom always said that if someone you’re close to is hurt, kissing the spot that hurts makes them feel better quicker.”
He didn’t wait for you to respond before he knelt in front you in between your knees. He looked up at you from his knelt position. Chenle just stared at you for a few minutes, and you just stared back.
“Chenle-” He stood back up quickly, grabbed the back of your neck and connected your lips. Your hands fisted his t-shirt. He whispered your name against your lips and tugged you closer, so close that your chests were touching and there wasn’t any room to breathe in between.
Although you couldn’t fit a hand between your bodies you still tried to move closer. You felt your butt get closer to the edge of the vanity and before you could wrap your head around the fact that you were about to fall, you fell.
Your already abused knees hit the floor and you let out a cry. Chenle fell with you purposely, immediately addressing your pain. “Ah fuck, I’m so sorry!” He apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. He pulled you into his lap, letting your knees rest from the pressure of the ground.
“I’m gonna put the ointment on you, again, it’s just gonna be cold.” You heard him twist off the lid. He dipped his pointer and middle finger in the white cream.
He was right when he said it was cold. You gasped at the sensation and clutched onto him. Your breath was already shaky from the pain. Chenle rubbed it in gently, soft enough to prevent it from being painful but still firm enough to get it done quickly.
While you intently watched Chenle aid you back to health once again, you realized that as time progressed, your time spent together consisted of less cleaning and more…intimate activities, and not just sex either. 
Tears were still streaming down your face still and Chenle wiped the ointment residue on his shirt but still wiped your tears off with the back of his hands to avoid getting the cream on your face.
“How about this, it’s getting late already so how about I cook us some dinner and we can have an easy night. You can go change into some of my clothes if you want.” He smiled at you and kissed your lips; you kissed back but Chenle didn’t let you deepen it like you wanted. Chenle laughed at your little pout, kissed your bottom lip that was jutted out, and helped you up.
He held you hand and led you to his room. “I’ll be in the kitchen, just let me know if you need anything. Join me whenever you’re finished and comfortable.” You nodded and kissed him one last time. You loved kissing Chenle even though you wouldn’t admit it out loud. The feeling of his lips now was much different than the feeling of them when you first kissed. They were softer, smoother, almost nicer you’d say. He started using chapstick for you.
Even after having kissed Chenle several times before, he still left a tingling sensation on your lips. Once you were behind the door of his walk-in closet, you leaned against it and lightly touched your lips. The realization of what you were doing hit though and you mentally kicked yourself. Returning to the task at hand, you looked at Chenle’s closet, the familiar items stuck out to you, and you wanted to wear something you had seen him wearing recently.
The familiar black and grey striped hoodie caught your eye, and you took it off its hanger and slipping it on your bare body. Your dress was already crumbled on the floor, but you ignored it and went to the drawers that stored his sweatpants. Remembering the pair that you wore last time; you picked those and relished the comfortable feeling they brought.
When you were done, you crouched down and collected the pieces of your previous outfit and placed them in the tote bag that you had left in the bathroom. As you approached the kitchen, you could hear Chenle softly singing. You didn’t know that he could sing, and you wanted nothing more than to hear more. So, you entered the kitchen as quietly as possible and just stood there. Thinking about sitting in a chair at the island did occur but you quickly decided against it as the possibility of the chair scrapping across the floor would alert Chenle and the singing would most likely come to an end, which you didn’t want whatsoever.
But your secret viewing of the domestic concert came to an end anyways once Chenle turned around to plate whatever was in the saucepan. He smiled at you, deciding to ignore the fact that hearing him sing caused a blush to take over his face. “I hope you’re okay with me just reheating some leftover pasta, I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” You pulled out one of the chairs from under the island and thanked Chenle, ensuring him that dinner was perfect.
Instead of sitting in the sit across from you, Chenle sat in the one next to you. With his right hand he ate but with his left he rubbed your thigh over the sweatpants. It was silent for the most part, Chenle didn’t do anything to spark the conversation, however, he just looked at you. His eyes were telling you something, something you have never heard from him before, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out that the look in his eyes were trying to convey.
The pasta was soon gone from the plates and now in your stomachs. With the fullness in your belly and the warmth that Chenle was bringing your body, you yawned, tiredness consuming your body and mind.
“Let’s go to bed, baby.” He called you baby, and you weren’t even sick. “You want me…to stay?” Chenle looked at you like you were insane, like you were purple with two heads.
“Of course I want you to stay, why wouldn’t I?” You just shook your head and watched him clean up the kitchen, which in retrospect, should be your job. “Shouldn’t I clean the table?”
The question shocked Chenle, “I guess I forgot about the deal to be honest, until now of course. You’re not as bad as I thought. And please, that isn’t supposed to sound bad. You’re not bad at all.” He was tripping over his own words, digging himself in a deeper and deeper hole. His ears were pink, and a nervous smile took over his lips.
“You’re not too bad yourself Zhong.” Chenle approached you slowly, the warm lighting highlighting his features beautifully. Once he was right next to you, he leaned down and pecked your lips. It was soft and sweet and said exactly what needed to be said.
“Now let’s actually go to bed, I can tell that you’re tired.” You were, and the fact that it was probably the dark circles under your eyes that told him so, you still felt the fluttering in your heart at the thought of him knowing you.
What Chenle did next surprised you, he bent down and scooped you off the chair. “Oh my god! What the hell Chenle!”
“Shhh, just let me carry you!” Giggling as Chenle carried you to the bedroom, you littered his cheeks, lips, and nose with several tiny kisses. He started giggling as well. You assumed your pecks were starting to tickle him because his pace picked up and soon you were in the air. Yelling as you landed on the plush bed, your loud laugh mixed with Chenle’s dolphin like howl.
“Now we’re waking your neighbors!” You covered your mouth and squeezed your nose, trying to calm yourself before you actually woke his neighbors or worse, pissed yourself.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Chenle jumped on the bed, next to you. His impact caused you to bounce and the giggling increased. The two of you, giggling into the other’s mouth, were rolling around the bed uncontrollably. The tiredness was most likely at fault for the fit of giggles, but it was almost like you were high. High off each other.  
You rolled onto Chenle’s chest and kissed him. Both of you were already panting, trying to catch your breath after the laughing session but the kiss definitely winded you as well.
The heavy breathing slowed the giggles and forced you to take a break from the other’s lips. Chenle was on his back, and you had rolled off of him and laid on your stomach right next to him. You looked at each other in silence, stupid dopey smiles decorating your flushed faces.
The moment lasted until seemingly simultaneously you and Chenle both closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, but not before Chenle rose his hands in the air and clapped twice to turn off the lights.  
Chenle’s mood was similar to the one he carried before the two of you got to know each other. You didn’t know what had changed but you still walked out of the café and towards him.
“I just can’t fathom the fact that you get all dolled up like this just to go to work at a maid café. I didn’t think this type of outfit was your style. You look a bit ridiculous.” You were used to Chenle being mean to you, it has happened since grade school and all the way to your current Uni days. Him picking fun at your looks wasn’t surprising either, he’d always call you ugly or something like when you were kids but now, it hurt worse than ever. And for once, he seemed to pick up on it.
“What’d I say?” He huffed out a laugh through his nose, not believing what he was about to see in front of him. You crying. Chenle’s cocky smirk fell off his face, “Woah, woah, woah, what’s the matter L/n?” You looked away from him as tears started to fall down your face. Chenle cupped your now wet cheeks and turned your head towards him. Concern was written across his face. “You’ve never cried before, just tell me what’s wrong. Please.” The chill from being outside caught up with you and you shivered, your bare arms were now littered with goosebumps. Chenle immediately noticed this and pulled you into his coat clad body, trying to transfer his body heat to yours.
“Please tell me where I pushed it too far. I know I make things difficult, but I can’t stand seeing you cry because of me.” This was very unlike him, but you were too upset to ponder on it.
“I felt pretty like this.” The crack in your whispered confession made him want to kill himself for ever making you feel like this. Pulling you away from his chest, he saw your mascara running down your cheeks, snot leaking out of your nose, and your eyes were already puffy from the crying. “Oh, no, no, no. You are pretty, the absolute prettiest. I think you’re the most beautiful person to ever walk the Earth.” “I think-” He was interrupted by you slapping his chest, hard.
“It’s always ‘Well I think’ or ‘Well I didn’t think’. You need to make up your fucking mind Chenle. You think a lot of things while not thinking at all. And I’m done with this whole being your maid deal, go ahead and tell everyone, I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of you always treating me like dogshit. I’m done with the deal, and I’m done with you.” You turned on your heel and started walking away from the café and away from Chenle. Your tears were no longer of sadness or from being insecure. The tears now felt hot with rage. But, instead of lashing out even more, you just wanted out of the situation. 
Minjeong who got off of her shift 15 minutes after you got off yours was walking out of the backdoor and towards her car. You cleared your throat and wiped your tears, “Minjeong! Can I catch a ride with you?” She could hear the bubble in your throat and met you halfway.
“What happened?” She looked at you and then looked over your shoulder. “I’m gonna fucking kill you Zhong!” You put your hand out, stopping her from approaching Chenle. “Let’s just go Minjeong.” She ignored the anger inside of her and just huffed, held her nose in the air, and pulled you to her car.
Before she let you explain what exactly happened, she listed all the fun things you two were going to do tonight to cheer you up. But still all you could think of was Chenle. Even though he has hurt you in the past and continued to hurt you, you still had some sick soft spot for him. Maybe it was caused by the moments after the two of you would have sex, or the times he would pick you up from work or even visit you at work to give you a break from the creepy men. You liked Chenle and you hated him for it. But most of all you hated yourself for it.
Minjeong was still shit talking Chenle while you pulled out of the parking lot, and you refused to look back at him, but you could see him through the passenger’s side mirror. It had started to rain and Chenle was still standing under the streetlight, watching Minjeong’s car drive away. Watching you drive away.
You ruled out any possibility of him caring about you the moment he let you leave with Minjeong. If he liked you like he led on, he would’ve stopped you. He would’ve explained whatever sick reasoning he had, but he didn’t. He watched you leave and thinking about it, the fact that he didn’t fight for you, hurt more than anything he’s ever said to you.
“You need to get him out of your head. I know it just happened and you two have the weirdest relationship I’ve seen but it’s better to get him out of your head now.” You kept looking back at Chenle until he was out of sight. “Minjeong, I fucking hate that I love him.” It was the first time you’ve ever said it out loud, but she knew.
You looked down to your lap and played with the frills of your skirt, running your fingers along the lace. Watching the streetlights pass by the lights themselves were just blurring from your eyes still being teary. “Minjeong?” You turned your head but still didn’t look up. “Yeah?” She placed her hand on yours, putting a stop to the shaking.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” She laughed and shook her head. “I wasn’t even going to give you a choice. Even if you asked me to take you home, the answer was going to be a no.”
The two of you fell into a calming silence that was only interrupted by your sniffles and then a gasp once you felt your phone buzz.
“Oh my god, it’s Chenle.” Minjeong whipped her head around to yell not to answer it. “Well I don’t wanna talk to him right now.” You ignored the call, and her shoulders released their tension. “I’m proud, he doesn’t deserve your tears and he certainly doesn’t deserve your time.”
“I’m gonna miss him.” She placed a comforting hand on yours, eliminating the shakiness. “At least it was just sex, right?” Minjeong tried figuring out where you and him truly stood so she could assist the situation better.
“No, I wish it was, but it wasn’t.” Your hand slipped from beneath hers and raised along with your other to cover your face.
Minjeong didn’t pry for anything else, the rest of the car ride was silent, or at least until she pulled into the drive through. “What do you want?” Turning your head from looking out your window and out Minjeong’s, you rubbed the tears out of your eyes so you could read the menu without the blur.
“I’ll have chicken nuggets and a vanilla shake, thank you Minjeong.” She smiled and placed your orders with the person speaking in the microphone and pulled up to the window when instructed to.
The person at the window looked at your outfits and tried to suppress a laugh but once he saw your swollen face, his smile disappeared, and he just took Minjeong’s card to pay for the meal.  
“I can’t believe Chenle can be such an ass, especially after everything the two of you have been through. Sure you guys didn’t like each other but I saw the way he looked at you! I saw the change!” Minjeong broke her own rule about not talking about Chenle and the more she spoke about how much Chenle supposedly liked you, the more you felt your feelings disappear. What he said reminded you of what he was like before the deal was made, but along the way, the deal didn’t exist anymore, and it was just Chenle and you. You didn’t understand what processed him to say what he said but you didn’t care anymore.
Sniffling once more, you wiped your tears and leaned across Minjeong. “Hey, do you think I could get your number?” The guy at the window shot you a sleazy look and wrote down his snap on a napkin. You shot him a flirty wink and sat back in your seat naturally.
The guy handed Minjeong your food and called out to you, “I’ll be looking forward to talking to you.” Minjeong though, drove away before he could even finish the poor excuse of flirting. When you looked at her, surprised by her speeding, her eyes were filled with anger. “What?”
“What? What? What do you mean ‘what’? You just broke off your relationship with Chenle! I don’t care how hurt you are, but you are not moving on that quick, the only thing that guy is going to do, is make the situation worse.” Minjeong took the napkin with the barely eligible handwriting on it, without taking her eyes off the road, and she crumpled it up and put it in her apron pocket.
Minjeong didn’t allow you to get a word in before she started talking, “The both of us are going to call out tomorrow, from both school and work and have a little day to allow you to sit and wallow. But after that, you’re getting back on track where you lived in a world without Chenle.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was right, she sent the emails and made the calls herself on your behalf so you wouldn’t have to reach out to anyone unless you wanted to. However, the constant checking your phone wishing that Chenle was the cause of those notifications, caused your day to go much slower than it would’ve with him.
But no matter how many times you flipped your phone face side up to see the screen, Minjeong did a good job on distracting you. The two of you binge watched damn near all of One Direction’s content for the sole purpose of Minjeong getting to see Harry Styles on the screen.
The day did eventually come to an end though and you were forced into getting ready to go back into the real world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your step had a bit of extra pep in it and it was because of the thick wad of cash that sat in one of the hidden pockets in your skirt. You had your usual top customers that requested for you specifically all come around at some point today, so of course, your tips for it showed.
The sun felt nice on your skin, the several days long rain had finally ended and as the dark clouds floated away, so did your sore mood. Along with your thoughts of-
“Y/n! Please let me talk to you! Just for a bit, please!”
Chenle.
Looking behind your shoulder, you kept walking to your car. “Well I don’t want to talk to you.” Facing your head towards the parking lot, you spotted your car and made a beeline for it. Ignoring the begs and pleas coming from the man behind you, you just kept walking. That was until you literally couldn’t.
Chenle had sprinted in front of you and had his back to your driver’s side door.
“Chenle. Move, I want to go home.” He shook his head. “I miss you so much, you don’t even understand.” You scoffed, unable to hold in your disgust. “You miss me as your maid and fuckdoll, give me a fucking break.”
Walking closer to him, you tried to pry him off of the door. “No, I love you. I need you back into my life. I miss the moments when we were us.” You knew exactly what he was talking about, they were the same moments that caused you to fall in love with him.
“I know you know what I’m talking about. Please just forgive me. I didn’t mean to push it too far, I didn’t know you had changed, I was expecting you to throw something back at me. If I knew our relationship had changed, I never would’ve done it.”
He looked like he had walked through hell. His hair was a greasy mess, his eyes were bloodshot, he had dark circles under them, and his usual designer casual wear was nowhere to be seen. In Gucci and Louis Vuitton’s place was a grey pair of food stain covered sweatpants and a heavily wrinkled dark green shirt. He didn’t look like The Chenle. The person standing in front of you now was the closest version of Chenle that you knew. But this time, he wasn’t behind closed doors. He was refusing to let you in your car and begging you to forgive him.
“Now, how do you think our relationship changed?” Your arms were crossed against your chest. You mentally stabbed yourself for even allowing him a chance to explain himself.
“After a few weeks of fucking, we stopped with the insults. We started actually talking and, and, and you stayed passed the time you were done cleaning. You stayed for dinner with me, you, you, we slept together without actually having sex.” He was bringing up good points but in a very poor way. These things meant a lot to you too but with his portrayal of events, you didn’t have you convinced yet. Even though he never lost you in the first place.
“Remember when you weren’t feeling well but still came over to clean? I noticed that you weren’t feeling well and instead of telling you that you didn’t have to clean, and you could go home, I suggested you stay at my place, and we could have a comfortable lazy day.” Your stomach hurt for two reasons that day, the stomach bug that had taken over your body, and then a virus, Chenle. Chenle made you feel so pleasant that day. From him rubbing your stomach and shoulders on the back to him washing your hair that night and letting you sleep in his bed cuddled up against him.
He was right, your relationship had changed. It had changed so much that you went from wishing he’d disappear off the face of the earth to wishing he’d never disappear from your side.
Chenle could see you thinking, over the time you had spent together, he had learned to read you. He could read you from before, but he only knew what pissed you off. Now, he knew almost everything.
“Please, I’ll do anything. I can’t lose you when I love and need you this much.” You knew that you were going to take him back, but you still wanted him to suffer.
“Anything?” Although you tried to play coy, he immediately caught on and answered your question. “You know I’d do anything for you.” He cupped the back of your neck, looked into your eyes, and with that single close-mouthed kiss, your relationship was sealed.
Your hands moved from your sides to his shoulders and finally reached their destination curled in his hair that was now the color you had suggested to him, pink.
You hid your smile in this chest, he had made you cry in several different ways, but now, he was making you smile. “Chenle-” he shushed you. “I just wanna hold you, I never want to let you go again and I’m not going to mess up again.” His hands clutched onto you tightly, emphasizing his point.
“I love you Chenle and I hate you for it.” He laughed; it was high pitched like that was the last thing he imagined leaving your mouth. Once his laughter died down, he looked at you, really at you. “I love you too, but it’s the best thing to ever happened to me.”
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dandylovesturtles · 1 year ago
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uh just a little something because I was thinking of something earlier and idk I like quiet moments of intimacy between people
set in the bad future timeline but like nobody's dying or anything, it's just #autismproblems but also it's the apocalypse
cw in depth discussion of food sensitivities? ig?
~~~
Leo knocks on the lab door before giving his code to the voice lock, just to give Donnie a little warning before he comes in. He's holding a small plate, utensils, and two bowls of stew, which don't smell particularly appetizing, but they have to do what they can with limited rations, these days.
Donnie is hunched over his work table, battleshell off which means he's taken April's suggestion/threat to get a few hours of shell time every day to heart. He's wearing his ragged and dirty hoodie, the one he refuses to part with no matter how many holes it gets, because both the color and fabric are "perfect".
He looks over his shoulder as Leo walks in, then sighs and hunches a little further down. He's tense, now.
"That time, huh?"
"Yep." He sets the bowl down on the desk, along with his spoon. "My suggestion is don't ask what's in it."
"I stopped asking after we lost the greenhouse." Donnie keeps his attention on his work. "Leave it there; I'll eat it when I'm done with this."
"Aww, come on." Leo grabs the extra chair and wheels it over, collapsing into it. "You don't want to eat dinner with your favorite twin?"
Donnie raises his goggles so the look he gives in response is more effective. "Did Mikey send you to babysit me?"
"Whaaat? Pfft. No."
Technically it's not a lie - April sent him.
"Uh-huh," says Donnie like he absolutely doesn't buy that. He's still not reaching for the bowl.
"...Dee," says Leo, his voice going softer. He nods at the bowl. "You gotta eat."
They've all noticed how he's been losing weight - and all of them have lost weight, that's not exclusively a Donnie problem, but Donnie's weight loss has been far more apparent. None of them are getting enough to eat, but Donnie isn't eating enough.
And Leo knows why. The food they're eating now isn't exactly a taste or sensory delight even for him, and he's been known to eat just about any garbage put in front of him. He can only imagine how it is for Donnie.
But he has to eat. He can't just stop.
Donnie mumbles something under his breath, but then he swivels his chair away from the table. He motions to a more clean surface across the room. "Let's at least go over there, if you insist on watching me."
"Let's move over there for our casual family dinner," agrees Leo, and he can't help but grin at the eye roll he gets in response.
They move, and Leo passes the plate and fork and knife off to Donnie. Then he stops staring at his brother for a bit and starts eating his own stew; set a good example. The meat in it is not very good - fatty and chewy, with some gristly bits - but it's protein, and Leo will take what he can get.
When he's almost halfway through his bowl, he looks back and sees Donnie has only managed to suck down some of the broth and not a lot else.
"You can't just eat the broth," he says, and Donnie grimaces.
"I know that. I know this is all we have and that if I want to stay functioning I have to eat it." Donnie hisses an annoyed breath through his teeth. "But if logically knowing things solved the problem you wouldn't be in here babysitting me."
"I'm not babysitting you. Think of me like... your eating hypeman." When Donnie raises an eyebrow at him, he grins and pumps his fist. "Go go Tello go!"
"Annoyed huff, you are the worst," Donnie grouses, but the tension in his shoulders loosens up, just a little. He dips the spoon in and ladles out a smaller piece of the meat, screwing up his face when he looks at it. But he puts it in his mouth.
Just eating that little bit seems like it takes a massive amount of work. Donnie chews for a long time, squeezing his eyes shut and fanning one hand like he's trying to cool himself down. Then he swallows, finally, and it looks like it physically pains him.
But he ate it and didn't cough it back out and that's a win in Leo's book.
He bites back any comments like "That wasn't so bad, was it?" because he knows from the look on Donnie's face it was absolutely terrible. Instead he just asks, "Think you can do a few more?"
"No," he says immediately, and Leo sighs.
"Donnie..."
"I'm trying," Donnie snaps, and Leo quiets. "I didn't ask to be like this. Trust me, I know how inconvenient it is."
And Leo hates this, hates that his brother is talking that way, hates the state of the world is such that he has to struggle just to eat, but he has to choose his responses carefully because Donnie hates to be pitied.
"I know, bro - shit sucks," he says, and puts warmth in his voice to tell Donnie this isn't a dismissal; if he wants to complain the whole way about how much he hates this, Leo will gladly listen. "If you wanna beat up some krang hounds about it later, we can do that."
Donnie actually makes a noise that is dangerously close to a laugh. "And do what, make more stew out of them?"
"This isn't krang hound! I think..."
"You really don't know?"
"I was serious about not asking," says Leo, and Donnie's lips actually twitch up.
He fishes another piece of meat out, sets it on the plate and cuts it up into smaller chunks. Leo knows he feels self-conscious, having to do that. He's hardly the only person in the colony that has texture issues, and Leo knows no one is dumb enough to try to pick a fight with Donatello Hamato over his eating habits, but... some things Donnie feels more comfortable doing only in the presence of family.
If hiding in his lab and chopping all his food up into bite-size chunks is what it takes to get his brother to eat, though, Leo will let him do it.
Donnie takes the small chunks one at a time and swallows them whole, without chewing. His mutant biology makes it easier, and he reacts less visibly nauseous this way.
He gets through two more pieces of meat like that, Leo watching him while he eats his own. He wants to tell Donnie he's proud of him, but then Donnie will definitely feel babied and he'll throw Leo out.
So instead, Leo ladles up one of his veggies (at least, he thinks it's a veggie) and pops it in his mouth.
"Slimy, yet satisfying," he says with a smirk.
"Take your hakuna matatas and shove them up your ass," says Donnie without missing a beat.
Leo doubles over laughing, and when he looks back up Donnie is grinning and over half his bowl is gone.
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descendantsramblings · 22 days ago
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Hi, i love your writing, could you do Hades x AK reader where reader is the sister of one of the AK but she doesn't go to Merlyn Academy because she is a famous singer, just like Taylor Swift or Ariana Grande, and she started daiting Hades after meeting him on family day.
They're relationship is a secret because reader doesn't want paparazzi to know her secret life, but one day they where on a date before readers tour and the paparazzis take photos on them. The next day all Merlyn Academy knew about Hades and reader and the VK didn't want to know anything about him because they fell he betray them but he didn't care.
At the end of the day Hades is at the backstage of your tour and is watching you sing, specially the loves songs reader write about him, when the tour end reader is running throw backstage, like Taylor with Joe at the reputation tour, and when she finds him she kiss him and they go to they're apartment.THANKS 💕
This might actually be the most creative request I have ever gotten. I really have to hand that to you, respect where respect is due.
I’m also changing it to be that Hades and the crew are freshmen in college since you requested they live together but I’m keeping the rest of your request the same 🩵
Also!! It’s a early 2000s AU so for my own personal enjoyment, Sue me ig
Hitting Every Mark
Hades x Charming!Reader
Pronouns Used: she/her/hers
Summary: turns out she never had anything to worry about with her fans; they love her partner as much as she does
Warnings: secret relationships, pet names (yes Hades calling her songbird is a reference to Hadestown), Hook and Hades are being vulgar at one point (mentions of vibrators but it’s so obviously a joke), swearing, reader is shorter than Hades
Word Count: 3.6K
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This shouldn’t feel so hard. She’d left for shows enough times that being in her apartment hadn’t felt like home for years. Then again, it wasn’t just her apartment anymore. (Y/n) Charming hadn’t felt at home in years. She and her parents were never all that close, their precious crown Prince was always away at some sort of boarding school, there was really no home to go to. Not with Christopher in classes in Camelot, and yet, somehow going to see him is what granted her that feeling of home again. His Junior year’s family day somehow took her from just being her manager and private tutor’s problem to being someone who was loved. Albeit secretly loved but with her job, what else could she be? She’d spent the last year and a half fighting tooth and nail to be loved, to keep something as just her’s and not the media’s. This was a love she couldn’t lose.
Of course, the lifestyles of the rich and the famous must always come with complaining. And her’s came in the form of paparazzi waiting outside an amusement park. Of course people would recognize her there, it was her mistake thinking that sunglasses and a snapback would be enough to mask who she was. And that’s how her darling boyfriend somehow managed to become her “bodyguard” at least on paper. No need to screw with their reputations. For the daughter of the Charming line to be with a villain was blasphemous, and how would her fans feel about her dating the god of the underworld? Her PA had warned her enough that Hades would never be good for her image. He didn’t mind being hidden though, Hades had no interest in a bunch of screaming young girls and horny teenage boys knowing who he was. He’d much rather be his girlfriend’s partner from the comfort of their own bubble. Even if that meant he had to hear his friends be some of the horny teenage boys that talked about his girl. Morgie and Hook seemed to take some odd satisfaction in arguing over which of them could actually get her to say yes to going out with them, not that either boy was her type. Then there was the idea of Maleficent and Uliana and how much they seemed to hate every pop girl in the media. Hades is sure he’d snap on them if they spoke ill of his girlfriend knowing how much he loved her.
Standing there in that airport though, her face nuzzled into his neck like it was every night for the past two months, Hades wishes he could scream out his love for her from the rooftops. How was he meant to make it two months with nothing but sporadic calls from her when he’d gotten so used to waking up to her humming in the kitchen? This should not be this hard, they’d been long distance for almost two years, why was this so hard?
“You’re sure you can’t come with me?” Her voice is meek from her place against his neck, taking in the rough feeling of his stubble against her cheek as if she’d never feel it again. “My classes start in two weeks, (Y/n).” It makes her whine against him, placing a needy little kiss right over his carotid, “Come for two weeks then. It’ll get you through my kingdom and Corona, that’s something.” His grip tightens on her waist and for a minute she thinks he might be considering it. “Songbird, stop teasing me. You know I need to be here,” his tone is soft, almost longing in a way that pulls on her heart. “Making me leave my heart at home is cruel, my love,” she whines, peppering a few more kisses across the expanse of his neck before she pulls away. Looking over Hades’ face as if she was debating something.
It was an airport right before fall semester started at every university in the area, surely no one would think twice about two eighteen year olds kissing goodbye in the middle of it, would they? No way anyone would care to notice how cozy (Y/n) Charming was getting with her bodyguard, right? Whether it be stupidity or need, she can’t help but reach for his face, palm pressed into day old stubble as she tips onto her toes, leaning into warm and soft lips. The kiss is slow, his hands on her hips to hold her still as her other hand finds his neck. Needy and yet somehow as steady as every good morning kiss the two have shared since Hades moved in with her. “I’m gonna miss you,” her voice is nearly a whine as she breaks away from him and he can’t help the frown that pulls on his lips. “I’ll miss you more, songbird. I’ll be at your Camelot show though, you’ll know where I am in the crowd.” Another whine slips from her lips as she untangles the two of them, “That’s months from now.” “I’ll call,” it’s a promise as he places one last kiss on her forehead and turns her around, “Now go get on that jet before your band comes out to beat me.”
💫✨🎙️✨💫
Hades should have known better than letting himself genuinely kiss the woman he loves in public. He should have been smarter, said goodbye to her in his car. But he didn’t, he let himself fall into blind trust. It was college season, he should have been just another young adult blending into the crowd. Of course not though, not when paparazzi was looking for his girlfriend everywhere. He should have known being with someone on the same level as Britney Spears and No Doubt would mean he’d never be safe from the public eye again. And yet, when Uliana throws that trashy tabloid down in front of him, Hades still holds some form of shock.
“(Y/n) Charming seen getting cozy with her new Bodyguard” stands out across the cover in a bright and honestly obnoxious yellow and red font. It’s coupled with a picture of them kissing in the airport, his hands planted firmly on her hips as she damn near hangs off his neck. It’s a touch less cozy and a lot more needy to see from the outside than it had felt to the two of them. And he feels a little sick knowing someone felt that they had the right to take pictures of the two of them like that. As if that wasn’t a personal moment, as if he wasn’t bleeding his heart out to send her somewhere without him.
“What, pray-tell, is this?” She’s tapping a fingernail against the photo of (Y/n)’s face with a raised brow. Glaring down at Hades as if he committed some crime against her. He raises an eyebrow, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest as he flares at her, “Well, Uliana, what does it look like?” The girl huffs looking over him as if waiting for something else to follow his words. “Well?” He hums it, giving her a lazy smirk as he looks up. “I knew that little princess hiring you as a bodyguard smelt fishy but really Hades, a popstar? Do you have no self respect?” He watches as Hook and Morgie seem to circle in now, eyeing the tabloid that sits on the library table before him with oddly proud smirks on their faces.
“Are you sure that you weren’t just smelling yourself, Uliana? Nothing has been fishy about my arrangements. I make an excellent bodyguard.” The response makes Hook chuckle, cutting his eyes to the god from the magazine, “Bodyguard? What are you protecting her from, Hades? A vibrator?” He knows he shouldn’t, god Hades knows he should watch his mouth, but he’s already buried himself anyway, “Vibrators are friends not foe, Hook.” It comes with a wink, making the pirate laugh harder as he shakes his head. “Hades with the (Y/n) Charming, I always thought it would be me.” Morgie seems to be laughing too, holding the page as he looks it over, “I knew she liked guys taller than her, Hook. Hades though, didn’t expect that one.”
The three boys seeing it as a joke just seems to infuriate Uliana, the girl snatching her magazine back as she glares at him. “Do you think I’m okay with you being with a popstar? A princess popstar at that?” And his brow raises again, sending a glare to the girl as he lazily waves, “Uliana, do you really think I care if you’re okay with my relationship?” She scoffs, leaning forward on the table, resting on her elbows as she looks at him with her own raised brow, “Well you must have, lying to us about being her bodyguard.” Hades rolls his eyes, leaning onto his own arms, “Uliana, I have never cared what you thought of me. Our relationship has been a secret because she doesn’t want the press to put their noses in it, and with your big mouth,” he lets his words fall off. Best to leave the quiet parts to their silence.
It earns a smirk from Hook though, “Oh, so she’s embarrassed of you, aye Lad? None of my lasses ever hid me.” “Yeah, and none of them ever wanted to sail the seven seas with you more than once either, have they, Captain?” He stands up, gathering his belongings with the roll of his eyes, “Now if you don’t mind me, I’m going back to my and my girlfriend’s apartment. She’s supposed to call in an hour and service is shit in this library.”
💫✨🎙️✨💫
To say that (Y/n)’s fans went crazy to finally know who her muse had been for her last album would be an understatement. They had been grasping at straws, throwing out guesses of actors and princes and pop stars she was friends with, just graveling for who it could be. But for their bubblegum pop princess to be with a punk, especially for that punk to be the god of the underworld? They were going crazy. And her PA had apologized to her personally, because they loved Hades. Twitter had called their relationship “so Avril” more than once, absolutely begging for more pictures of the couple. With Hades’ permission -which he granted way more readily than she expected- the princess had posted a few pictures the couple took on her digital camera. One of him kissing her cheek, one Christopher took of her thrown over Hades’ shoulder at the beach, one they took the night he asked her to be his girlfriend, the two of them dressed up and standing in the mirror of her bedroom. They were all so domestic with real smiles, not the ones she’d throw up for journalists and her fans were loving it. By now she’d seen enough reposts of the photos captioned with lyrics to “Skater boy” to know that there was never a real reason for her to worry.
Something about their love for her relationship made performing the songs feel even more special, more personal. They weren’t just secret love songs anymore, they had a face. They had as much of a home as she did, and the fans knew it. Part of her should be terrified, she knows that. Hades was being led to the slaughter the second he agreed to be posted to her Twitter and yet, he still said yes. He told her to put his neck on the chopping block, allowed himself to be seen and vulnerable, and that was a sacrifice on its own. Now her tour had one last performance until she’d be falling back into the God’s arms, back into their bed. And she’d go crazy if it was anything more. Even then she’s pretty sure she’s going crazy now. As she sits there, makeup artists and hairstylist and her personal stylist running rampant around her, sucking on a Grether’s Pastille from her spot on vocal rest, (Y/n) is both anxious and relieved.
Not that she didn’t enjoy performing, lord only knows that the “Flaming Attraction” tour was her favorite tour she’s been on since she started down this road at thirteen. That playing love songs and dancing with the best backup she’s ever had, in her four outfit changes with her expensive set was enough to keep her flaming heart on fire. But she’s pretty sure she’s never needed her lover this badly in the two years she’s known him. That’s the funny thing about living with someone, isn’t it? Your want grows to become need and the need twists into desperation. And now as a tear away gown is being fastened over her little two piece set, lashes being pressed to the underside of her lash line, she only has two hours until she’s back where she belongs. And that’s enough to put more pep than she’d ever need in her step.
“Someone’s excited,” Janice, her hair stylist, coos while running a hand over her arm and the girl can’t help but smile. “Special guest in the VIP section tonight, right? Isn’t it his first show?” She nods the smile breaking across her face to show her teeth as her phone goes off. The sound of Avenge Sevenfold’s “Hail to the King” filling the room as she fumbles for the hot pink Razor that sits on her vanity, pulling against the hands on her hair. Flicking it open and pressing it to her ear with the cheekiest smile the stylists have ever seen on her face. She offers up a hum, which that alone is enough to make her vocal coach cut her a look. No speaking until she’s on stage, she knows the drill well enough by now. “Hey songbird, I know you’re not allowed to talk but I had to tell you that your openers are shit. That’s all, I can’t wait to see you hit the stage, gorgeous, I love you.” And he’s hanging up as quickly as he called, the girl flicking her phone back closed as she looks at her vocal coach, this knowing and petty smile on her lips.
“I take it that you’ve explained how vocal rest works to him?” And she nods, raising a brow as if to challenge the man. “My mistake, I should have known you’d have your arm candy trained. You always train them well.” Of course she does, (Y/n) could never be with someone who didn’t understand and respect her schedule, that’s why she and Hades worked so well. It was based on respect, and even if he hated pop music, Hades had an underworld’s worth of respect for her, something she adored. Suddenly there’s a call for them to move to under the stage and this intense bubble of nerves wells up in the princess’s gut. Hades has seen her performances of course, but it was on MTV, never has he seen her live. And yeah he’s heard her sing, to him and him alone. Listened to her play guitar from the couch or their bed as she wrote. Never has he been the same room as her like this, she was terrified.
As fast as the thought enters her head she’s forced to push it back. Crouched under her stage, bedazzled microphone in hand as she sends one last smile to her team. Her in ear begins to beep, a warning noise that she’d soon be up. Then comes the opening track of her first song of the night, and finally “And five, four, three, two.” Her platform begins to rise with the sound of her audio tech’s voice, bringing her into one of the largest crowds she’s ever played. The pop princess forces a smile to her face and raises her microphone, her show must go on, right?
💫✨🎙️✨💫
As the second act of her three act show reaches it’s final song, (Y/n) finds herself climbing into the railings of her flying stage. Baby blue acoustic guitar in hand as her dancers lock the cage around her, successfully securing her into the mechanism. “So, for this next song, I’m going to ask something of you. If you have a lighter or any type of flashlight tonight, do you think you could put it up for me? Just for this song? As I’m sure a lot of you know now, ‘Flaming Attraction’ was much more of a literal title than you’d think.” The words come with a giggle, watching her crowd light up in little blips of flames and led lights. Eyes patiently searching until they find the VIP section. That electric blue flicker making her smile impossibly wider as she stares.
“So I’m sure some of you can see him, but this actually is someone very special to me’s first show of mine. If you do see him, I’m sure this outfit makes a lot more sense,” she giggles again waving down to reference over herself. With a soft shimmy of her hips she shows off the dress. A black satin number with blue tulle that races up her legs in an imitation of flames. Doing the best she could to imitate her lover’s powers and aesthetics against her own. Hand delicately reaching for the sapphire gem held against her neck, “So this song up until about a week before release was going to fully be acoustic, but my team and I decided it was best to give it a full production last minute. This is the original production of ‘Flaming Attraction’ I hope you love it as much as I do!”
It takes just about all her willpower not to focus on Hades the entire song. Eyes steady flickering to the electric blue flames that inspired the very song she was singing. An odd sense of pride welling in her chest everytime she looked at him. He was there, actually genuinely there, with no goal but seeing her shine. As she nears the bridge she pauses, pulling her mic closer. “Okay, this is my favorite bridge I’ve ever written, so if you know it I’m asking you to sing with me right now.” And this time, as she lets herself focus on him, smiling as she sings a cheesy little love song about how he lit her heart on fire with burning desire.
💫✨🎙️✨💫
“Camelot, I think you might be the best crowd I had for this entire tour,” she’s beaming into the mic, excitedly tapping a hand against her thigh as she speaks. She’d watched security grab Hades to bring him back behind the stage halfway through her last song. Just this final goodbye and she’d be in his arms. “I’m so serious, I wouldn’t want to finish this tour with anyone else! Can you give me that last bit of your energy real quick and give my amazing dancers a round of applause for their insane work on this tour?” With her in ear hanging by her head she can hear the thunderous roar her crowd sends to them as they run off stage. “And I would be nothing without my support, can we all thank my insanely talented singers for carrying this tour?” It earns her another round of roaring applause, smiling as they leave. “And where would music be without the band? Let me hear you!” It’s no shock to her that the band gets the loudest cheers, they basically had their own mini fandom beneath her. A large smile plasters itself across her face, smiling to her crowd, “And I’m (Y/n), consider me Charmed by you Camelot!” She lets herself bow at the waist, beaming to them as she sinks back below the stage. Crouching as she’s lowered down she slides further beneath her stage.
Her team is on her the second she rights herself, taking her mic and inears. Slipping the straw in a bottle of water into her mouth and toweling sweat off of her dewy face. “That might have been your best show yet,” her manager coos, smiling at her, “Congratulations Princess.” She smiles back, pulling the woman who’s supported her through it all into a hug. “Thank you, so much.” “Always, you’re my brightest star, (Y/n).” And then they’re untangling from each other, headed down the stretch of hallway to her dressing room. A figure waits in the hallway, leaned against the wall in leather and wife beater, smile plastered on his face. “There’s my songbird,” the words prompt her to run to him, arms wide with an equally wide smile. “Hades!” He pushes himself off the wall, stretching his arms open for her to run right into them.
By god does she, nearly throwing herself against him, face nuzzling into his neck as her arms wrap around his torso like he was a life saver. His arms curl around her, holding her against his chest as he leans against her hair. “You did so good up there, songbird. So good, you looked stunning too.” She smiles and he can feel the motion against his skin. “I missed you so much.” “I missed you more,” he moves to press a kiss into her hair, “You hungry?” She pulls away with a confused smile, “Why?” She longs to snuggle back into him, to take in that scent of smoke that lingers around him like he was constantly aflame. Words couldn’t describe how much she’d longed for it while she was away. “I put the slow cooker on when I got home from class today, there should be a fully cooked roast waiting on you. I assumed you hadn’t had an actual home cooked meal for two months, you’d probably want one.” “You cooked for me?” He laughs, shaking his head as he leans down to peck her lips. “Let’s get you changed and home, yeah?”
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daemon-in-my-head · 4 months ago
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Heeey, I'm back. With another Gort hc. Cuz I can.
Soooooo, to me personally, that man isn't ace. I don't even think he's aro. But before u come for my throat; he defo sees sex primarily as a tool and his relationship with his own sexuality and emotions is 100% screwed up. Let me elaborate.
As mentioned before, he sees sex as a tool. Sexuality in general is a luxury, a past time, something unnecessary, but even so, he does have desires himself. He simply never acts on it unless there's a greater reason or ulterior motive as he considers it a waste of time. Like yes sure he could pull some ladies or lads, he's charming like that, but why would he if he could also tinker and or work on his fun lil experiments and achieve his goals. There's a lot of suppression going on, keeping his cool, being in control of himself.
It's not that he wouldn't want to, it's just that he wants smth else more. And that he can't allow himself to slack off or indulge in any way, shape or form before he's reached his goal. Before he remedied his past, all that (referring back to the whole 'this suffering has to have a meaning otherwise he would've been simply miserable and his pain would've been only pain and that's not a truth this man could ever accept).
In regards to his romantic feelings, well. They're there. He's capable of romantic love. It's just that his love is essentially a violent obsession. He has absolutely no understanding of boundaries or any healthy relationship examples to go by, so what he's capable of is closer to violence rather than tooth rotting romance. But nevertheless, it's still romantic rather than familiar or queerplatonic. Also that man's committed alright. That's his whole stick. Committing to smth. He's still crying over Durge. He's certainly capable of attachments, intimacy, committing and catching someone's interest, just the way he goes about it is 1000% not alright. The whole possession, obsession, tyranny bit, yk. Basically, it's incredibly horribly unhealthy but still romantic
Pls note tho this was written by someone who's very much aro so my credentials are 0. I actually do not know what romantic love is (from experience, i know like 50 definitions) but let's pretend I do and that I am right in my assumption.
Anyway have fun with that ig
I like it when they're broken in ways that are near incomprehensible to people who aren't quite as broken, apologies lmfao (also to my blorbos cuz I really am making their lives hella miserable on purpose)
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oscconfessions · 7 months ago
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I think jnj is trying to explain Pin's "BFDIA sucked" line in TPOT 2 by making her go through the most. While I appreciate that they're fleshing it out a little, it still makes no sense how she even said it. Before the newly recent episodes (TPOT 2 onwards) she has always been shown to not only like BFDIA, but love it. Like does bfb 6 not exist? Or pre split bfb? Or idfb, or even TPOT 1? Like idk maybe deep down i wish they didn't go this route because I loved the idea that BFDIA and her friendship + co captaincy with coiny made life better for pin after everyone hated her in BFDI. But thats just me
Ig this route does explain why she loses her confidence and is more anxious and self conscious in bfb/tpot, and also explains why she's so uptight until tpot 4 (ig). Because man, she was done so dirty in BFDIA and that was because of ONE THING. all she wanted was for someone to swing with her :( and it ended up being the reason she's been screwed over multiple times. And the only ones who even care are coiny and needle
I'm sorry idek if this is a confession, its just a rant maybe. But ye. Also if ice cube gets the most votes again-
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physalian · 2 months ago
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IngramSpark: Good or Nah?
I decided to work with them last minute to set my book up for success, and, in case they screwed me over, I could hate them in a properly informed manner.
So!
IngramSpark (IGS) vs. Amazon (KDP) so far: A detailed comparison.
Spoiler Alert: FUCK INGRAMSPARK
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Alrighty these are two proof copies (author copies) of the exact same book made with the exact same PDFs. IGS is on the left in all pics.
Stuff to note:
The IGS copy is slightly greener, the purple is less vibrant. KDP made the exact colors I painted this with in photoshop.
The KDP book is slightly thicker and while the spine print is slightly off center, the front cover is perfectly centered. Compare both of the lower moons on the right side and it's very obvious that IGS cut theirs incorrectly. It's cut incorrectly because their paper is thinner, thus needing a slightly narrower print PDF (which isn't something they would tell you).
KDP is slightly thicker because they used thicker paper. Theirs is less polished creme, you can feel more of a grain of the pages, but because they're thicker, they're less transparent. I can read straight through to not only the back of the title page, but straight onto the next piece of paper for the IGS copy, and theirs cost more to print.
KDP shipped in lighter packaging, which meant my copy got a little banged up as opposed to the cardboard coffin the IGS book was in. Pick your poison.
KDP
PROS
A breeze to work with in most areas. I did not need to use customer service, so I can’t comment on that, but I’ve heard it’s superior to IGS in every way. They do have a community chat that I have used when confused (more below) and pages upon pages of how-to resources.
Simple user interface, very easy to click through all the set-up menus and not once did it freeze or crash on me (more below).
Did not use their formatter or cover generator, I used Adobe and did my own so I can’t comment on their quality.
Their “print previewer” was fantastic. I could click through the whole book and they explained very thoroughly where some issues were and what I should look out for and they let me use my own files without issue instead of having to build them in the platform.
Their royalty rate is the best you can get in this industry, because they’re not selling to anyone but themselves so there’s no middle man taking a cut of the profit.
Print quality of the book itself is fantastic. Only thing I miss is the ability to emboss, but no print-on-demand company does that as far as I’m aware. The colors were an exact match to my design in Adobe, I have no complaints.
Instant reports and near-live report refreshes for ebooks. Print copies don’t register on reports until the book ships, but Amazon prints and ships within ~2 days.
Because it’s Amazon, even though proof copies aren’t applicable with Prime, my copy still got here in 5 days including print time. My print copy totaled the print cost plus $3 in standard shipping that I could have rushed.
It did get a little banged up on the bottom but I think that was during shipping not at the printing press.
If you’re really strapped for cash, they do offer free ISBNs *but these are KDP only ISBNs, you don’t own them, and they are non transferable between vendors and POD companies. Bite the bullet and just save up for your own ISBNs and buy them in bulk if you can and you plan on publishing at least 2 books in your lifetime (like a paperback and hardcover of the same book, even).
After I submitted my ebook for preorder, I kept finding little details to fix and lines I wasn’t happy with that got nixed at the 11th hour. Updating this was seamless and free and the updated versions were processed within 6 hours or so. Amazon did not lock in the files to the date the preorders were set like IngramSpark would have.
CONS
They still don’t have paperback preorder, but they do have a feature where you can submit for a future release, which is just giving your files over to go live on a set date. Thing is: When you get to the end of the setup, there’s a button that says something like “submit for publication” which does not actually mean “move your publication date to right now” like I thought. So I missed my paperback date by 2 days.
Their proof copy has that annoying grey “Not for Resale” stripe across the cover so it looks wonky in marketing images.
They have a “cover art size calculator” feature, which did not line up with the actual file size I needed come submission time, off by a few millimeters. Which meant resizing in Photoshop and it was incredibly annoying and tedious.
Upon finally hitting the “publish” button Amazon flagged my book and told me to fix the highlighted errors. Well there were no highlighted errors, and said error(s) could be anywhere across four pages of details. I had to consult the community notes to figure out what they were talking about (it was an ISBN issue) which was quite annoying.
IGS
PROS
Well-known as the best print-on-demand (POD) company with the widest reach, including Amazon, for expanded distribution. (NOT IN MY EXPERIENCE)
Also well-known as the highest quality self-publish paperback, that still doesn’t do embossing. (NOT IN MY EXPERIENCE)
They do paperback preorders (which I did not participate in).
Integrates flawlessly with libraries and retailers that Amazon won’t do (which is about its only claim to superiority). My book was searchable on Barnes & Noble within 48 hours.
IGS, like KDP, has free ISBNs (US only), with the exact same non-transferable issue. However, because they integrate across all sellers, Amazon included, if you only intend to work with them, you’ve reached every market anyway.
CONS
Their royalty rate sucks ass. I had to price my book $1 higher through IGS because I was literally at a deficit with all the printing costs and vendor discounts (so if you want my book for slightly cheaper, buy it through Amazon). Through IGS, I think I’m making about $1 in royalties, when all is said and done. And I’ve heard, shockingly, that that’s pretty good.
I didn’t try to use their customer service because I know it’s notoriously terrible. But it would have been helpful when their website crashed.
Their website crashed on me three times when trying to upload my files. Before it crashed, their “submit files” button simply did not work, so I had to go the roundabout way through their formatter and cover wizard (which I didn’t like) which then told me my 300DPI cover art was too small. The exact same file I submitted and had in my hands at perfect resolution to Amazon. It took almost 2 hours of running around in circles on their site to essentially start from scratch to get this up and running—and I did all of this with polished files from the get go because I knew revisions would be tedious. Can’t imagine the hassle if you aren’t ready to go immediately (this is why I didn't do a preorder with them).
I have heard that if you make changes to your files, they don’t go into effect until the next month, meaning if you have typos, and anyone buys your book before the next calendar month despite you fixing them in the system, that person is still buying the old version. I have also heard that generating reports is not seamless. After 60 days, revisions also cost you $25 a pop (KDP is free).
If you submit pre-made PDFs for your manuscript and cover (as in, you don’t format or generate them within their system) they do not have an instant previewer. Mine took 48 hours to deliver a link, when that shit should be automated and instantaneous and should allow me to use my own files.
IGS does not have Amazon’s monopoly on shipping, so to get my book here at all quickly, it cost me almost $20, rush fees applied for only 1 day faster than Amazon did. “Quickly,” being I ordered the proof on the 24th, and it won’t get here until the 28th. Meaning, that if you’re not paying rush fees, you’d have to wait longer.
They can be quite confusing with revisions during the preorder process. Per their website, they can begin printing your book “generally” 30 days before go-live. Which means someone who preordered your book on the 3rd gets the version of the book that was available on the 3rd, even if you update it on the 5th, because they print those immediately, even if the book’s official release date of the 30th hasn’t passed. You’d pretty much have to be completely done with revisions before setting up for preorder with them to be absolutely sure, which means wasted time. I don’t know why they don’t just queue up the books to be printed on a hard deadline a few days before release.
So. While I hate that Amazon has a monopoly, about the only thing IGS has going for it is their expanded distribution when everything about their business, from their platform to their user experience to the actual quality of books is at best dead even with KDP, but in my experience with my best foot forward, IGS annoyingly inferior.
I don’t think they’ll remain the “best POD company” for very much longer. I did not do hardcover for ENNS as of this post so I can’t comment on either service’s print quality, only what I’ve seen in other reviews. Some people like the jacket-less print-on-the-cardboard look (Amazon), some people (me) like the jacket, if only so I can use it as a bookmark.
*I wrote the above paragraphs before getting my proof copy from IGS and fucking hell they're not even competent at printing
It is also a massive waste of paper and shipping resources to have to print multiple versions of proof copies fixing errors outside of my control. My proof copy from KDP is perfect. IGS? Nope! But they wouldn't let me properly preview it so I had no idea this would happen.
Even as a consumer who might hate the idea of giving Amazon more money, there’s an argument to consider: I totally understand the desire to keep brick and mortar stores afloat and I don’t want Amazon’s monopoly on the market to grow even larger. However, Amazon makes sure that you’re making more than pocket change on your book, unless you jack up the prices for readers on the back end so the whole thing costs more all the way down the pipeline. I refused to do this.
That deficit that forced me to price ENNS even $1 higher than Amazon really bothers me with IngramSpark. That deficit exists because of a higher print cost and a 55% discount given to vendors so they can still make their cut of profit from stocking your book. IngramSpark had me sit through a whole video saying “if you don’t do this no one will stock your book” while saying you could go as low as 54% but that might scare off vendors.
In essence, at this time, KDP makes sure that you, the creator, make money. IGS makes sure that they and the businesses selling your book for you make money. I didn’t do any of this for profit, but it does hurt seeing all your hard work, possibly years of effort, have a royalty of $0.87.
So, yeah, is IngramSpark worth it?
I don’t yet know what their reach will amount to. It’s a dream of mine to see my book on a bookstore shelf, but signing up with IGS does not guarantee you sales, it just guarantees you the best chance possible at reaching potential buyers. But at the moment, all it looks like to me is fees, a bad UI, cheap printing, arrogance from perceived superiority in the market, and a business built boldly in favor of its own profits.
Amazon’s a shady-ass corporation, but I’m going to have to say they’re the better bet. At the very least, for your first book when you don’t have an audience and if making a profit is important to you.
I did not try to use any other POD like Draft 2 Digital or Barnes & Noble Press, as I already have KDP and IGS is the best platform to integrate with KDP.
See here for the cost breakdown of my debut novel from draft to publication.
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magical-regical · 1 year ago
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Y'all okay,
I started playing 'What in Hell is Bad', it's basically an 18+ version of 'Obey Me' and yea this game is spicy.
Anyway, big surprise, out of all the sexy demons I've interacted with so far, two of them I've done the sideways tango with, my favorite character is this guy
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Who's not even a demon. He's the childhood best friend character.
But plot wise he takes care of the MC before the whole demon thing, knows how to cook, and I'm pretty sure was ready to search through the entire world to find them when they had to take and extended visit to Hell.
What more could you want in a man? A decent dic— according to MC he has that too so check mate.
More thoughts about the game itself under the cut if you're interested.
I just finished chapter one, and can I just say this game is hard, in every sense of the word.
It's a new game by a smaller developer so it's full of bugs but I've heard the devs do try their best to patch them ASAP so I don't hold that against them. Aside from my boy Satan not hitting water enemies, even though devs said they patched that a few updates ago, it's mostly QoL improvements that can be made to make the game just overall more enjoyable including but not limited to:
A pity system? Maybe? I don't know if this game has pity or not on their gacha machines and if they do I'd like to know how screwed I am because I have no self-control and have been doing single pulls on the hot boy gacha instead of saving up and doing 10-pulls so I wanna know if it's better to do 10-pulls or if it literally makes no difference because I just go until I hit pity like in arknights.
Skipping the cut scene that plays when you gacha because I swear that's one of the main reasons you can't play this game in public no matter how discreet you try to be lmao
Opening multiple chests at once and levelling up multiple times in one go because as far as I know, right now you need to click one by one for both of these.
Maybe a thing where it just takes you to the part of the story you're currently in instead of making you click through chapter select and scrolling to it.
A shortcut button to the gacha screen, secret club, and dark sanctuary (resource grind stages). They're core aspects of the game yet you can't get to them without going through the home screen.
Auto deploy and auto play for the resource grinding stages
Setting an L-rank character (side note, it's really funny that the highest rank of cards is rank 'L') as your homescreen boi is really awkward because it always ends up zoomed in on one part so you can't actually see the full boi.
This last one I feel like is just a personal thing but why is it three red keys per single pull for the hot boy gacha? Three just feels like such a random number lmao. Ig they mostly want you to use the red gems, which are grind-able to some extent, to buy the keys from the store.
Overall tho, I enjoy it. I like the tower defense like combat system and being able to move units around is actually pretty fun. So yea give it a try, see if it's your cup of tea.
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saaltskies · 17 days ago
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i think bw is very similar whether hilbert or hilda is the protagonist but there are some differences in my head
for example...
i think hilda would be much more aggressive toward team plasma and kinda despised n at first
she went from what is with this weirdo to OH UR THE KING SCREW YOU
after the champion battle she stops hating him though
part of the reason why she disappeared after the events of bw is because she also feels guilty for how mean she was to him
protag hilbert was more friendly to n at first thinking his views were interesting even if he didnt agree
he also hated team plasma hilda just causes more arson
but ya hilbert was more chill with him and enjoyed talking to him at least until he was like oh btw im the king of team plasma and hilbert was like wHAT
while protag hilda becomes more aggressive and angry with n hilbert becomes more scared of him
hilbert is like ohhhhh shoot i promised my friends i wouldnt get too involved with team plasma but got too involved oh shoot oh shoot oh shoot nonononono
when n is like hey i chose you to be the other hero hildas like excuse me what ?????? while hilberts like shoot shoot shootshootshootshoot
on the whole dream thing they have different responses
see hilbert has a dream while hilda doesnt
n asked hilbert if he has a dream and hilbert never really had a dream his whole life but realized then that traveling the world and hopefully become champion kinda are dreams of his and thought about it for a bit and realized huh ig i do
he followed that for the rest of the game (until the horrors settled in)
then with hilda she doesnt have one
she tells everyone before that that her dream is to win the pokemon league but she actually doesnt care that much about it
its a goal shes working towards but not rly a dream
when asks shes about to say that as usual but then shes like. huh. i dont actually. and she finally admits she doesnt have one for the first time, but that she doesnt really mind, she'll figure it out
after chargestone cave hilbert becomes more anxious he puts way more into training he becomes more desperate because THERES AN EVIL CULT AFTER HIM
his dream changes its focus to taking down team plasma
he also starts to distance himself from his friends and sister more from stress which worries them a bit
hilda also ups her training but shes more upbeat and motivated while hilbert is more stressed
also neither of them are very good at being vulnerable so they dont talk much to their friends about how they're feeling lol
hilda starts to be more niceys to n after the conversation with ghetsis on the bridge because shes like oh wait this is awful while hilbert is like YOU
his bad feelings about ghetsis are confirmed and he more than ever wants to take down team plasma
they are both sickened by ghetsis
in the champion battle their feelings are similar
they both get stressed over the fact that they cant afford to lose and they both wanna also make n see the truth
and of course after the battle they are both PISSED at ghetsis
oh and they both equally want to beat ghetsis with a nail bat but i think hilda is more likely to actually have one and do it lol #girl
they both get freaked the heck out by ghetsis trying to murder them who wouldn't this is terrifying
after the battle hilda wants to apoligize to n for being so mean to him because shes kinda chill with him now and also now that hes no longer doing stuff she has no reason to hate him but he leaves before she can say it :(
while hilbert has all these deep lil things he wants to say to him and also wants to ask him if they can be friends but n disappears rip
some time after it finally registers in hilberts brain everything that happened and that one the pokemon league and he starts freaking out over it all and starts getting imposter syndrome over the whole champion thing and books it to go find n
bye bestie
while hilda is overrun with guilt because she didnt get to properly make up with n so she heads out too
i think hilda does a better job at keeping in contact than hilbert does
hilda doesnt do a great job either but at least everyone knows shes ok unlike a certain SOMEONE
oh and if they arent protags hilda spends all her time at the battle subway like hee hee battle
she also loses interest in the league trains are so much better
and hilbert is like hey imma go do some extra training for the league in the subway and by the time he comes back out his sister is traumatized
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no1maddoxfan · 5 months ago
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Screw CPT!! Bitch was ugly anyway. We got the better, cooler, superior version:
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CPU BITCH!!! We love a mfker with ~flavor~. Infinitely better.
I unfortunately stepped into the kitchen.
I need to learn how to shut my brain OFF cause bitch, when they showed them shirted boys you know I started cooking!! I'll be proved wrong in 2 eps time so it don't really matter.
Crack Theory Time
We got options here bb:
Creator -> still alive and is the thing that took Yuamu. The cat is her physical form while the purple lady is her consciousness. The Creator is doing because (TBD) and Yuamu agreed to it because (TBD). Same with the other Darkmen. The physical bodies form the outer shell but the "souls" are in the cats. The Velgearians never "died". They were just shirted to make them easier to use. This also means the Creator tricked Kuaiduol because (TBD) making the Creator the ultimate BBEG, ig. Problem: Why/How was Zwijo exempt? Makes no sense to leave him how he is if they're easier to control as a Darkmen. Could be for "plot reasons" ig.
The dark thing was some wack ass third party and convinced Yuamu to make the DME because (TBD). The Velgearians are the "cards" of the Ohdos, and thus, any "Ohdo" earthdamar can repurpose them at anytime. The Velgearians are basically on a timer, where if they don't get a replacement of earthdamar via "death", they return to their 2D shirted form. These events overlap for "plot reasons" allowing Yuamu's earthdamar to use the Velgearians as the structure of the DME. Problem: Why are they traveling through hyperspace is all she wanted to do was bring the Velgearians back? I got no clue. Also, kinda fucked up that even if an Ohdo earthdamar decides to give them their freedom that it would be short lived. They can only be murder puppets and that's it?
Yuamu being kidnapped -> completely unrelated event. Each of these societies are built on the corpses of the ones who came before. The ones that are useful are revived, but the others are just repurposed for structure. Basically the VSC and the DME are both made from the bodies of what came before. Yuamu just found and used them. Her destination is (TBD). Problem: Why would you do this? This would make Yuamu look so bad. Also, this explains nothing about the earthdamar. Why did they melt to goop when they got there if the events are unrelated?
Yuamu -> controlled by the thing that took her. That thing being "entropy". Kinda like Darkness from GX, where they take a concept and personify it. But they take the physics meaning of the word "disorder" and conflate it with the connotative definition. The destination -> center of the universe. The Velgearians are simply puppets for the "skeleton" of the universe, being below 3D beings, and thus are molded into whatever form they are needed for at the time. The Velgearians always existed, it's just that the story of Go Rush!!™ is just the time they were given a third dimension, and Yudias, being given the "soul" of the Milky Way Galaxy will finally stop their eternal suffer by beating entropy's ass in a fucking duel. Problem: what?
So yea, TLDR: I need to get my ass outta the kitchen. Since I'm 0-6 rn with theories, watch these all be wrong and it's just cause Yuga. Just Yuga. He's here, somewhere, probably idk. I actually kinda hope they're all wrong, cause they all make Yuamu look kinda bad. She ain't do nothing wrong.
Also, give Yuhi his clothes back. Bb will catch a cold.
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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago
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Hello! I feel un gran oso (shame, cringe, etc) for this, but I wanted to request a morpheus one shot hehe. I just NEED this situation to be written or something cause in my opinión its ✨✨
Based on the song Ballroom of Romance of Celtic Woman, where the reader is a human that somehow fell into morpheus grace, and as such she can enter the Dreaming every time she wants through a earring that morpheus crafted, and she wants to celebrate the Day of the Book or the day of the Librarian in honor to Lucienne, and for unknown reasons she gets permission to make a ballroom and well, a lot of dancing and a beautiful dress and Morpheus from his throne like: 🙂 (💓💓💓)
Mutual pining of course ✨
Thank you very much, have a nice day/noon/night!
Here's the song;
😊
Granny's Superstitions
Dream of the Endless x College Student!Reader
Summary: Your grandmother told you stories of how her grandmother was friends with the King of Dreams. You didn't think much of it, not even when you inherited your great-great grandmother's earrings on your 18th birthday. I mean, why would you? They did not correlate. And yet, your granny should have told you it did, so you weren't so surprised when you found yourself in the halls of the Dreaming.
Word Count: 5k+
Warnings: Dark post capture!Dream, fem!reader, themes of misogyny, exasperated college student!reader, reader has a potty mouth, angst, enemies to lovers(?), typos, etc.
A/N: this was an exciting request! I love that you even added a song <3 I enjoyed it very much!! The syncopation in the chorus, its UGH SAUR GOOD. Because of this, I made reader a music major, like me HIHI. I will say, this became quite a dark and angsty fic and for that 😅 im sorry ig. ALSO I CHANGED SO MUCH ABOUT YOUR PROMPT I- ASODHASFOIAHFAHSF:HASF I do hope you still enjoy it my dear T_T [CRIES] IDK WHY I DID THIS TO YOUR REQUEST AND MYSELF IT WAS THE EARRINGS I HYPERFIXATED ON IT AND EVERYTHING JUST WENT BOOM T_T this is literally escapism PS the character Tim Henson in this fic is real, he's from a band called polyphia, which I love, and you don't have to imagine him as Tim, but I sure did LOL
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I was effectively buzzed by the alcohol in my blood stream, and yet no amount of booze would make the unwanted stares from my classmates ever palatable.
Had I known making an effort in dressing up would merit the reaction I got for attending this party I didn't even want to attend in the first place, then they should all be glad that I wasn't in fashion department but in music.
Yet another rando turned to me and smiled, complimenting my outfit, to which I forced out a chuckling thank you.
I don't know why they're so upset that the guy they liked thought I was hot! It's not like it's my fault I got attention I didn't want.
I huffed as I pushed the restroom door open. I wash my hands as I stare at my face in the mirror. I behold the efforts I put on painting my face, on doing and redoing my liner, on perfecting the color on my lips.
I clench my jaw tightly at the feel of tears pricking from my eyes.
I thought they were my friends, finally I had friends, and yet all it took was one guy to ruin all that.
I close the faucet and lean on sink, releasing a sigh. I look at my reflection, watching the sapphire earrings dangle by my jaw.
I scoff at myself. I wore my heirlooms for them?
"Gosh, I miss home," I say, screwing my eyes shut as I straighten myself up. I begin to fidget with the small jewels on my lobes and head for the door. "Who cares if I leave early," I pull the door open, "no one's gonna-"
My ghost leaves me and I still when I see the dark expanse of the hall. There was no way this was the room I just exited, no way it was a dark, high-fricking-ceiling hall with marble floors, and massive stained glass windows that were broken. There was no way because there was not a single piece of furniture or intoxicated student in sight, only debris.
From my frozen stance, I push my hand behind me in an attempt to catch the knob I just let go. When I turn, my heart drops when I am faced with the fact I was in the middle of an empty hall with no door in sight.
Did they drug me?
I begin to pant as I do a 360 of the area.
I choke on my spit and go reeling back when I see a dark face in front of me. I am not nearly fast enough in my movements as the man's large strides allow him to quickly catches me in his tight grip.
"How have you come here, intruder?"
His voice is impossibly loud and deep that it seemed it was spoken by the very room itself. My hands dart up to cover my ears, but his grip on my biceps prevented that.
I open my mouth to speak, but the furrow of his brows and the tension of his jaw bring render me mute.
His darkened blue eyes widen a fraction. He scoffs, "I see. You are a thief."
My brows knit at the accusation.
He steps closer, fingers digging into my flesh, "what did you wish to achieve with those earrings?"
A shiver runs down my spine and I begin to stutter.
"What did you do to its owner?" his voice demands, going an octave lower. My eyes widen when his form begins to grow larger and the room begins to darken, "did you hurt her?"
My sight begins to blur with fearful tears when his pale skin disappears into nothingness, "I never met my her! She was dead before my mother was even born!"
"What?!" his voice echoes, seemingly endlessly.
"I NEVER MET GRANNY JOSEPHINE!" I scream, "I just inherited the earrings, I swear!"
When his form begins to revert, I decide it was do or die. I break away from his grip and manage free. However, when I pull away from him, I fall on my butt and freeze at the pain. I crawl away from him as far and as fast as I can, but as much as I didn't want to, I halt when pain shoots up from my palm. I pull my hand toward me and find blood on it.
"You are her progeny," he says.
When my eyes dart back to him, he is just a man in with black hair and a trench coat.
My pulse quickens when he walks over to me.
In an act of self preservation, I grab a concrete rock nearby and throw it to him as hard and best as I can. I goes right through his form and my eyes blow wider than they already are.
I push myself back, through the pain and blood on my palms, "STAY AWAY FROM ME! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT BUT-"
"I apologize," his voice mutters, silencing me in pure bewilderment.
I look up to the man and examine his face and his outstretched hand.
He cannot possibly believe I would take that.
I prefer the pain of pushing myself up and make sure not to break eye contact with him as I do. Once I am back to my feet, the man looks at me then the blood dripping from my fingers.
"What the fuck are you?" I shudder out, slowly backing away from him.
His eyes lift back to me and he raises his nose, "I am the King of Dreams."
My body trembles at his words. My hands shake as I chuckle in disbelief, "no way- no fucking way. My grandmother- those bedtime stories- you're-"
"Real?" he finishes for me, "as real as your blood staining my floors."
My eye twitches at his remark. I scoff, still on edge, and yet I cannot withhold the retort in the back of my throat, "you're annoyed by my blood dripping when your your filthy floor?"
The Dream king seems not to enjoy that comment and yet I could not help myself, "my blood is the least of your problems, don't you think?"
I grip my injured hand.
"Leaving unwanted traced of yourself is not good for my domain."
I raise my brows at that, "well if you didn't shapeshift and scare the living shit out of me, then maybe I wouldn't have had to crawl away from you."
"I thought you were an intruder."
"But aren't you all knowing, or some shit," I heave, "so much for a king."
"You dare insult me in my own abode right after I've scared you out of your wits?"
I dare a step forward, "well to be humbled, your majesty, for bringing me here just to intimidate me-"
"I did not bring you here," he cuts me off, diminishing the space between us.
And though my pulse was loud in my ears, I remained steadfast in my place.
His hot breath hits my face as he speaks, "you thought of the Dreaming and travelled here yourself."
I pull my face back as it contorts, "I did not think of this hellhole. I thought of home."
"Yes, and this place is a home for all who are weary."
I hum, "you mean before it crumbled to the ground."
My breath hitches at the sound of his growl, "you inherited not an ounce of congeniality from your great-great grandmother."
The way he knows how far off granny Josephine was to me really struck a chord in me. I press my lips together, "well, I'm glad to have disappointed you so soon so that you wouldn't expect anything from me."
He bellows, "mortality never loses its audacity," he brings his face down to me, making my skin rise with gooseflesh, "I would withdraw the earrings you clearly do not deserve, but out of respect to Josephine, I shall allow you to keep it," he seethes, "but for your insolence you will know how much of a king I really am."
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
BUZZ.
I slam my hand on my alarm and rip my heavy lids open.
I groggily groan as I struggle out of bed.
Ten days it's been since the last time I slept properly. If falling asleep wasn't the problem, then it was trying to wakeup from the horrible nightmares that plagued me.
I slam my books on my desk, making my seatmate turn to me and watch as I sit down next to him.
"Well, good morning to you too, zombie girl," Tim greets with a shit eating grin.
"I am not in the mood, you ass," I grunt, crossing my arms as I lean back on my chair.
"You haven't been in the mood for two weeks," he says, "Don't you think you should do something about it?" he leans on the table and knits his brows in concern.
I wipe my face and give an annoyed chuckle, "what can I do when I'm literally beefing with the king of dreams," I carefully word, "and nightmares."
"Poetic," he rests his hands on the back of his tattooed hand, "a true sign of insanity."
"Go fucking annoy someone else, you rat."
"Nah, if I do, you'll be lonelier than you are."
I shoot him a dirty look as he then places something in front of me.
I look at the grey packet as he explains, "sleeping pills."
I turn back to him and push the medicine away, "don't work. I've tried."
He raises a brow, "without prescription?"
"There is such a thing a over the counter drugs, Tim."
"Spoken like a true druggie."
I scoff.
He continues, "this was why I told you not to attend that snobby party. You ever noticed that ever since then, you've gotten fucked up in the brain. It's no coincidence."
"Again, thank you captain obvious," I slam my hands on the table and turn to him, feeling my head pulse in exhaustion, "and so sorry that not everyone can be a cool and popular as you."
"Why'd you even wanna make friends with them when you-"
"SHUT UP!" I scream, making the entire class turn to me. I feel embarrassment rise up my neck, and was only lucky that our teacher wasn't here yet. I sink down into my arms and bury my face as I mutter, "Enough. Enough! I get it, Tim. 'I told you so.' Geez, just get off my ass."
He calls my name, making me groan, "I'll do something about my insomnia! Just please, shut the fuck up."
"You better," he scoffs, "or else I'll plant a pea shooter in your lawn."
And so later that day, I did what I perhaps I should have the very moment after I met the Dream King.
I called my grandmother.
"Hi, granny," I smiled, holding my phone up to my face as I waved at the harshly zoomed face of my grandmother on the screen.
"How are you there?" she excitedly answers, "I'm so glad you thought to call."
I nod and chuckle, "me too, granny."
She takes a moment before responding, "you look tired. Have you been sleeping and eating well."
"Yeah, about that..."
After explaining everything to her, her voice grills the audio of my device because of how loud it is, "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO DREAM OF THE ENDLESS?!"
"Granny, that-"
"YOU MUST APOLOGIZE TO HIM AT ONCE-"
"I think we're past apologies. I have to do something more to make it up to him if I'm to ever sleep well again."
"Darn straight," she mutters in agreement, "now, oh goodness, let's see..." she sighs and wipes her face, "PIE!"
I raise a brow, "pie?!"
"My grandmother absolutely loved baking and everyone who ate her apple crumble pie adored-"
"Hello," a voice calls, making me turn to whom spoke. I see a woman with glasses walking over to me and I give an awkward smile as I raise the tray in my hand, "hi... is Dream here?" Once she is before me, she takes in my appearance then raises a finger, "ah, you're the one who inherited the Sapphire Dream Walk." "... do you mean my earrings?" "Yes. I-" "What are you doing here, girl?" I look over my shoulder and see the annoyed expression on the Dream of the Endless, as my grandmother put. "A peace offering," I release a sigh and hand him the tray, "my grandmother said that granny Josephine made you pie and you so enjoyed." The two of them only stare at me. "It's most definitely not as good-" "Lucienne, I don't have time for this," he says, turning to the woman who greeted me. Dream turns about and debris from the room begins to float up. Lucienne places a hand on my arm then gratefully accepts the tray from me, "I thank you on behalf of my master for your most generous gift."
"Yeah, that's not gonna work," I sigh, running my hands through my hair, "I did not inherit any homemaker skills."
My grandmother says my name gravely.
"What? It's true!" I shake my head, "if I did, then I would have been better off marrying a rich man," I dryly joke.
My grandmother ignores this as she suddenly says, "if your baking skills are that bad, perhaps just make an effort to eat with him every lunch."
I make a twisted face, "you want me to waste my precious free time on that emo prick-"
"Hi," I raise a hand, making Dream and Lucienne, who seemed to be getting into a heated argument, halt and turn to me. Dream scoffs, "you again." I awkwardly chuckle and rub my arm. "What? No bribe this time?" he narrows his eyes at me as he walks over. I purse my lips and twist to reveal my backpack, "I bought lunch for all of us..." There is a sound of thunder from the outside. I look away from the stalking man, finding there was even less debris now compared to yesterday, "it seems your efforts to liven up the place are-" "Silence."
"Oh, so you have a better idea?!" my grandmother quips.
"Granny, I can already imagine-"
"You said," I grip my earlobes tightly in my fingers, "you wouldn't take my earring back for the sake of Josephine." "But that was before," he presses close to me that our bodies were nearly touching, "you were turned out to be a meddlesome insect." "How is being friendly to someone who clearly needs friends meddlesome?" "Friends?" his deep voice darkly chuckles, "it is you who needs friends," his voice echoes, "you think I did not sift through your memories to verify your words? I know well the day you came here you were at a party on the pretense of making companionship," he leans in that his nose nearly touches mine, "but they turned you away, did they not?" My eyes glass at his words and my breathing grows jagged at the words he next spoke. "If your fellow mortals do not want you, what makes you think that I would?" "My lord!" Lucienne calls. I do not grant him the satisfaction of another moment of my time and will myself back to my room.
"-how bad it'll be-"
I hold up a cupcake in a plastic container to the man who was reading on his throne. "Your insolence knows no bounds, girl." "Actually, it's chocolate chip cheesecake." He eyes me darkly, slamming his book closed, "you think you can win me over with food?" "I can tr-" "It is by my own power than I am sustained," he stands and swats my cupcake away, "and by my mercy that you have not slipped into madness." I gulp as he adds, "not yet."
"-if I force myself-"
I try to contain my giggles as Lucienne and I sit on a picnic blanket I bought for today. "It's so weird to know that without him, Bach would've never finished his most famous piece, which is so gentle and sweet and-" I finish with a whisper, "unlike your boss." She sighs as her lips press into a soft smile, "you know... he's not actually that bad. He's just... going through something." I roll my eyes, "what puberty?" Lucienne shakes her head "he has been hurting for a long time." "Just because you've hurt doesn't justify the hurt you inflict on others," I mutter, "you don't have to keep defending your petty king." Dream, who had just finally fixed and tidied the last of the rubble, speaks up "you are aware there is no such thing as hushed whispers in my realm?" He turns to us and walks over with a storm cloud over his head, "every crude remark you've uttered as you stuff your face with your cheap, store bought snacks has echoed in my ears." I look up at him, opening my mouth, but Lucienne's hand grabbing mine silences me. "If you wish to insult me as retribution, then perhaps I should darken your mind more than I already have." "Dream! She has not-" "I've had enough of you as well, Lucienne," he quips, "you tell her things that is not yours to tell." "But you have withheld rest from her, my lord!" she says as she stands, "and for what? Because she told you the realm was in shambles, when it clearly was?!" "I shall heed none of your flippant words and continue to do so as I see fit."
"-to hang around him when he clearly doesn't like me!" I exclaim, already frustrated by the idea.
"Then, do something you like... together."
I release a sigh.
"Perform for him, you are a musician after all, and he is every musician's muse."
Lucienne claps as I release a sigh and allow my guitar to rest on my shoulder on its strap. "A splendid performance indeed," she smiles at me. I awkwardly thank her and turn to Dream beside her. "Pitiful that talents are wasted on a girl as unsavory as she." I shake my head and release a scoff, "aren't you tired of being an asshole?" His lips curl in disgust, "perhaps nightmares aren't enough. Maybe taking your voice-" "You think just because you're powerful and fucking old, all your actions are justified?" I remove the guitar strap and begin to put it back in its case, "I just want to sleep! And I've been making an effort to pacify you, but you're acting like a child." "I'm acting like a-" "THEN I'M ACTING LIKE A CHILD, DAMMIT," I heave, "and you are the perfect Dream of the Endless!" I get on my knees and bow to him mockingly, "none could defy his will."
"Granny, that's-"
"Oh! I've got it. I've got it! I remember. The king is absolutely fond of ballroom dances. Perhaps you can convince him to allow you to plan a dance for him."
"Granny, where would I even plan such a thing?"
"The dreaming of course," I press my lips into a smile, watching Dream's dark face eye me impatiently. "I've had quite enough of your games, girl," he snips, "first you bribe me with food, now you're trying to fool me into dancing with you." "What-" I whine, "is it going to take-" I huff, "for your petty ass to forgive me." He scoffs, "well perhaps you could start by dropping the unnece-" "But I have! I did! I tried being nice, but you do nothing but attack me." He scoffs, "and if that were true then you would not be sufferings still." "I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!" I scream, lunging at him as I grab his stupid collar, "you have NO idea what it feels like to be so tired but restless." "I think I would know-" "BUT YOU DON'T! Because you don't need sleep, or food, or anything! You are just an all powerful monster, devoid of emotions and any sense of compassion." He shoves my hands off him and I pull back as I heave. Dream tilts his head at my tear stained face with disdain. "Lucienne told me you were captured-" "It was not her place to tell you anything." "You would know what it feels like to be trapped!" I release a shudder, "or perhaps you are so caught up in your own self-pity that you will never believe anyone else can suffer, at your cruel hands, no less."
I slam my head on the cafeteria table repeatedly until I feel my forehead sting. I feel tears prick my eyes in frustration.
I just want to sleep.
"I just wanna sleep, you royal douche bag-" I whimper, "can you fucking hEAR ME-"
"Hey!" someone catches my forehead, mid head bang, and I crane my neck up to see the worries and breathless face of my classmate, "where have you been? I haven't seen you at lunch in forever."
I groan and straighten up, just to slump down on my chair and rub my eyes in frustration. "I'm so fucking tired, Tim."
"Yeah, no shit," he says, right as the sound of a chair being dragged back fills my ears, "you look like shit."
I let out a whimper, unable to withhold the tears from my eyes, "you think I don't fucking know that?"
I break down against my palms, incapable of keeping my emotions in anymore. Tim stiffens at the sight and lets out a string of curses before placing a hand on my shoulder, "I didn't mean to-"
"Look, if you're here to annoy me too, just leave, Tim."
"What?"
I rip my hands away and look at him with my wet eyes, "I don't know why you're here, but just leave!"
He scoffs, "you don't know why I'm here?" He crosses his arms, "well maybe because I'm worried about you?! Because we're friends?!"
"..."
His brows furrow, "how's that, asshole?"
"... we're... friends?"
Tim's face twists, "are you fucking stupid for real?"
I don't get to reply as my name is suddenly called. I turn to my side and feel my blood still at the face before me.
"You called me," Dream says, turning from me to Tim, "are you in trouble?"
I still and turn between the two, as an incredulous chuckle leaves my throat, "now hold on," I scoff, "hold on just a damn second."
Dream turns back to me and I peer up at him, "are you trying to tell me that you came here because you thought I called you and that I was in some sort of trouble."
"You did call me," he mutters, completely ignoring the rest of what I just said, "I am not one to lie."
Tim turns to me as I laugh. His face is warry as when I stand from my seat. The serious expression Dream's face disturbs me and I chuckle yet again.
"I'm so sorry," I place a hand on my chest, "where are my manners? I should introduce you two first: Tim, Dream, Dream, Tim," I turn to the latter, "you wanna know where I go at lunch? This is the Dream Lord I've been duking it out with every time."
Tim rises from his seat, grabbing my arm.
It seems, Dream does not take kindly to this and shows it by stepping close to the man. As Tim turns to the glaring Dream, I scoff and push the Endless to face me, "you're insane. Aren't you?"
Tim speaks my name softly.
"No," I turn to Tim, "he's the reason why I can't sleep because I questioned his kingliness or some shit-" I snap back to Dream, "in fact I'm so fucking tired I don't remember why you've been giving me nightmares in the first place."
"Okay, calm down," Tim tugs me towards him as he repeats my name, "we should just go to my place now and have lunch there."
"And who are you to take her anywhere?" Dream demands, making Tim's face contort in anger.
"I'm her actual friend, dipshit."
"Except she doesn't have any friends."
Tim snorts in annoyance, "as I'm sure you've been gaslighting her to believe."
With that, we walk away from Dream, even though I was so ready to lunge at him. Tim gave me an absolute earful about something, not that I actually listened. But still, even as his words entered one ear and out the other, I still cringed at the severity of his harsh but concerned tone.
Out of spite of myself, I told him I would skip the rest of my classes and sleep the entire day. After arguing about it, Tim eventually walked me back to my home and I punished myself by actually trying to go to sleep.
You have no idea how shocked I was when it worked.
I didn't realize I was sleeping because I was suddenly in a glimmering black dress.
Lucienne came running over to me with a wide smile, "You did it! You did it, dear, you did it!"
"What?"
"You've put sense into that old fool's head," she grabs my face, "and convinced him to throw a ball in honor of the reconstruction of the Dreaming."
"Wait," I shake my head, "so I'm-" I grip my earlobes and find only the smoothness of my skin, "dreaming?"
Lucienne beams at me as tears glass my eyes.
"Now, is not the time for sadness," she sighs, grabbing my hands, "today we celebrate!"
Seeing all sorts of beings dancing and making merry in the grand halls with such festive and upbeat music made it hard to resist. Of course I was reluctant and in denial. It was all happening so quickly, But when I was drawn into the middle of the room by Lucienne, who linked her arm in mine, and started spinning around, I couldn't help but laugh and dance with her.
My spirit is livened by the sound of the fiddles and the sweet voice singing to the music.
By the time the chorus comes along, I am relaxed and try to hum along with the music as Lucienne and I giggle at how poorly we were dancing.
I am promptly halted when the arm linked in mine pulls away and I slam into a firm dark chest.
I grip on a pair of biceps and tilt my head up. Dream he looks down at me with an expression I have never seen before.
I pull away quickly, but he catches my wrist, "it was your idea to have a dance," he leads me back near to him, "might you share one with me?"
I'm surprised he actually waits for my response. And so I reluctantly nod my head.
The moment I do, he does the weirdest thing. His lips curve upwards and he spins me to the beat of the music.
All the stiffness and unwillingness begins to melt away as Dream leads me to the music. Though his gaze on me is heavy and scrutinizing, I cannot bring myself to look away.
"It really took a man showing his concern for me for you to finally change your mind," I mutter.
"No," he readily denies, "it was you who made me change my mind."
I roll my eyes, "but it took Tim to set the wheels in motion."
He shakes his head, "you truly could not be farther from your great-great grandmother."
I huff, unable to understand him, "she must have meant a lot to you."
"She did," he pauses for a moment, "she was the gentleness to my indifference."
"So, what? Is this the part where you tell me you're my great-great-granddaddy?"
He spins me around and presses his chest against my back, "if Josephine were here, she would be horrified to know how filthy her daughter's lips are."
"I'm not her daughter..." I mumble, feeling my pulse rise at our proximity, "I'm her great-great-"
Dream spinning me cuts me off. When he retrieves me by my waist, he softly tells, "you were right. I have been cruel and devoid of emotion."
Our dancing comes into a stop as he willingly admits this.
"My own hurt and the unjust expectations I had of you to act like someone you are clearly not is what lead me to be so," he mutters with a solemn expression, "it does not make it right, and it is not an excuse, but I wanted to tell you this."
My brows furrow tightly at his words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I apologize for my wrongdoings. I do not enjoy what I have become, and I know I am disgracing the memory of my friend for being so brutal to her child."
I feel a shiver run down my spine. In pure disbelief, I grab his face, "are you seriously Dream of the Endless?"
His teary eyes crinkle in amusement and it causes me further bewilderment, "I am."
When he places hands on my wrists so gently, I feel goosebumps form on my arms.
"You are so familiar yet so foreign to me all at once."
I pull away from him, not knowing what to say.
Just then, the music ends and everyone but us breaks into applause.
When another song plays, I press my lips and extend my hand out to him, "how about another dance?"
Tim was lying on the other side of a cafeteria table, while I was sat opposite to him as I typed away on my laptop. He was playing on his electric guitar connected to his tiny, rechargeable amp, which was propped on the table. His nonchalance while expertly riffing made passersby stop, watch, and swoon. Typical Tim. He sits up just as I turn back when I hear my name get called. A small smile finds my lips as I greet my caller, "Dream. What are you doing here?" "It's lunch time and you have not come to the Dreaming yet." Dream catches the fact that I was not wearing my earrings, just as I chuckle, "and why would I go to the Dreaming?" Tim had already straightened up and stopped playing at this point. I shake my head and shrug, "I'm not going to pretend like I didn't go to you to convince you to stop my nightmares. And now you've gotten rid of them, I won't bother you." I examine Dream's expression, but there was nothing to examine, he was as still as a statue. "You don't have to worry about me. You can do your work in peace now," I nod and turn back to my laptop. Tim's eyes widen at what he hears and he decides to just lie back down and play again. I stop myself in the middle of typing to steal a look behind me in case Dream was still there. When I found no one, I pushed the thought of him away and finished my homework.
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cloud-makers-make-pollution · 3 months ago
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we're moots lol
okay this is gonna be a lot cuz he's like the main character or whatever
he was born uhh somewhere and he had a sister with a kid but their parents died so he and his sister had to take care of the kid. jean was a tree pruner but it wasn't enough so blud was like "screw it" and tried to steal some bread but was (of course caught and sentenced to 5 years for violent robbery but he was like "hell nah" and tried to escape like three times so he ended up with 19 years total and now the police (cough cough javert) hate him
so anywhizzle he does his 19 years and javerts like "ugh ig we have to let you go on parole or whatever" so jean valjean is like "yippee" and he's like wandering around tryna find a place to stay but ppl are like "nah ur a convict im not fuckin w dat" so now he doesn't have a place to stay but some dudes like "go ask the bishop he's really kind (WHICH THERE IS AN ENTIRE FUCKING SECTION ABOUT IN THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOK)" so jean 👖 goes to talk to the bishop and the bishops like "yeah come stay with us" but the two nuns in there are like "ew he's a convict he's gonna rob us" but the bishop dgaf so 👖 stays the night but he wakes up at midnight-ish and is like paralyzed with the decision of whether or not to rob the bishop cuz bro's got a lotta silver so...
spoiler alert
he robs him
so 👖 is like running around at 3 in the frickin morning and the police catch him and take him to the bishop like "sir this dude just robbed u" and the bishops like "yeah ik also here take the candlesticks and become a better person" so the police let him go and 👖 is like "omg he just like gave me all this free silver and he also said that i need to become a good guy" so 👖 breaks parole (omg lawbreaker 😨) and goes back to his hometown (which is also where fantine lives lol haha coinkydink hahaha) and he sells all the silver (except the candlesticks those are like a reminder of the scene with the bishop) and gets an alias which was like "pere madeleine" or smth idk and we don't see much of him cuz victor chooses to tell us about fantine
when we come back tho, "pere madeleine" has become "monsieur le maire" and he's the mayor of the town and owner of the factory where fantine works. as the mayor he's like a really good guy and he brings the town prosperity!! yippee!! and all the ppl love him but they're kinda sus of him like "who's this dude and why's he so nice" cuz they're a little paranoid ig but anywhizzle he's walking around or smth and he sees fantine being assaulted and stuff and javert taking her in and he's like "hell nah not on my watch" so he heroically bursts in and is like "she did nothing wrong let her go" and he and javert go thru their old man yaoi but fantine is eventually released. javert is NOT happy bout it tho
one day, javert comes into the mayor's office and he's like "bro i messed up i thought u were a former prisoner who broke parole lmaooo anyways we caught the guy and his name is jean valjean (DRAMATIC GASP) and we're holding his court soon anyways have a nice day lolol" but the mayor (COUGH COUGH JEAN VALJEAN) is having this identity crisis about whether or not to go fess up and free the guy but he ends up doing it and there's a buncha detailed chapters about his trek to the town where the court is being held but we don't care abt that
so he shows up and everyone's like "oh that's the mayor or smth ig" they drc and he sits in on this random guy's court session and there's a buncha evidence about how this guys is actually jean valjean but the ACTUAL jean valjean is like "NUH UH BITCH ITS ME" and everyone's like "GASP!??!!??!" and so javert is pissed and tries to get him arrested but 👖 escapes cuz he's gotta get fantines child to her and that's about where i am in the book lol
i hope you enjoyed my rambling about jean valjean and sorry for the long read lol
– ⚜️
this may be even more beautiful that the fantine one
“anywhizzle”
new word alert motherfuckers this is awesome
I feel like maybe you should rewrite the brick once you’ve finished it just your version and see how well it does because damn this shit it great
also
… @k-is-for-potassium ?
is this you??
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everythingwasnormalhere · 4 months ago
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cartman 🌻📈❤️🦿🌞
gonna talk about mostly his sillies (aka his DID), but he also has NPD and ASPD in my au, besides some kind of mania/delusions {disclaimer: i do NOT think people with these disorders would tipically act the way cartman does in canon, this is just a headcanon of mine and should not encourage discrimination and/or stigmatization of anyone with these disorders}
🌻 - Do they do anything that helps manage their disability?
Deal with it and hope the worst passes quickly 😭 since he's around 18, he takes antipsychotics to deal with most of the rather dangerous delusions and stuff (which is why the m5 let him live with them ;w;), but the meds didn't help with all the dissociation - it actually took him a Long time to learn to manage the whole meds thing in a way that didn't make him all blurry and dissociated All The Time, but in the end he did :) Also he has a notebook to track switches and conversations between alters, they have worked on internal communication but they're not the best at it so most of the time they just write it down (which also helps with memory issues)
📈 - What age was their disability formed, or became apparent, at?
Their DID was caused by trauma and neglect mostly, which happened to him until he was 6-7 years old. The symptoms of it, however, were confused with him just "playing around" as a kid, until it wasn't playing around and it became actually hard to manage and disabling as fuck-
❤️ - Would they have any advice for someone else struggling with their disability?
"No, screw you" (😭)
🦿 - Do they know anyone with the same disability as them? Are they close?
He knows a bunch of people with PDs (perks of living in a town where everyone is traumatized ig), but he doesn't know anyone with DID - closest would be Kenny, who is otherkin and dissociated more often than not (😭pt2)
🌞 - What does a 'good day' look like for them? Is there anything they like to do on their good days?
Good days would be days with low dissociation, high control over switches and good internal communication. There's nothing specific they like to do on good days - however, if an alter wanted to do something, they use to trigger them to front so they can do whatever it was :)
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