#so many people I know who were not able to go are getting a chance to live the experiencr
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cecizilla1 · 19 hours ago
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Before someone sends a pipe bomb to my house, is it really that horrible and controversial to say that Jimmy was just as much of a victim failed by the same disgusting system as everyone else? While support from loved ones is important, he needed actual resources. We don’t know anything about him beyond that he was struggling, so all we can assume is that he couldn’t hold down a job that was definitely due to his severe mental health issues. There’s nothing wrong with being an advocate for a friend, but it’s incredibly irresponsible to put someone you know is unstable into a literal inescapable environment for MONTHS with people who don’t know what they’re getting into and ripping him away from the possibility of actual helpful resources like intense therapy, psychiatric counseling, and rehabilitation. This man needed to be surrounded by professional and community support systems, not a friend who dismisses everything he does because how is that productive at all? I don’t know, I just feel like so many people are avoiding this conversation because they believe they’re dismissing what he did by being empathetic in that way and it drives me up the fucking wall.
Although I’m not an obsessive, violent, sociopathic narcissist, it’s painful just dealing with being bipolar, past suicidal deviation, and comparing myself to my best friends who have accomplished way more than me while I’ve been struggling to even fill out one job application. The capitalist system we live in grinds us down to our bones that if we can’t climb up the social ladder, that if we can’t pick ourselves up from our lowest alone, we aren’t worth shit and are weak—which leads to people like Jimmy lashing out on everything and everyone to gain some sense of superiority.
As someone who is extremely passionate about how capitalism has completely obliterated what it means to be in a caring community because of its intrinsic suffocating individualism, its exploitation of the lower class, and how we are chained down to an unforgiving inherent debt for our whole lives, I just find it childish that so many people avoid thinking about this aspect of his character or completely override him from the story all together.
As much as I LOATH him, I can’t help but wonder what could’ve happened if he did get the help he needed. While it unfortunately blew up in Anya and Curly’s face because they were taken advantage of, is it that fucking horrible to believe that someone can grow and change if given the chance (as long as they obviously don’t hurt you in the process)? It’s the same reason why the prison system—especially the American prison industrial complex—should be abolished because how the fuck is locking someone up for the rest of their lives going to do anything for anybody in the long run? Obviously he needed to be brought to legal justice, but I believe that we should start at the core of why he is the way he is, what will be effective for everybody in the long run, and the possibility of him being reintroduced into society once he gets his mf shit together before people start pulling him this way and that (with boundaries ofc.) I’m a victim of sexual assault and emotional abuse myself, but I don’t want that person to rot behind bars. I just want to heal and move on. I don’t want revenge, I want closure. I want to be able to face that person and know that they won’t hurt anybody else if I am to believe that I myself can grow beyond what happened.
I know that many other creators have expressed the same sentiments already, but I needed to get that off my chest too.
Anyways, this game means so much to me because it touches on societal issues that I care about. Fuck capitalism and may everyone be free from this hell.
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scattered-winter · 6 months ago
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every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3
#re lrb..........#i mean realistically if i was in the voltron/quintenary stars universe chances are i would probably NOT be one of the people#going on the space adventure.#i'd be roped into the plot when the aliens invade and earth almost gets destroyed. spoilers for arc 2 btw sorry#but man. child soldierism aside i wish that were me so so so bad#sadly kicks a rock when will EYE have a deep and mystical connection with a giant ancient cat :(#its not even that i want to interact with the main cast bc i dont really i just. wanna be in their position man#i think one of the reasons why voltron grabbed me so hard (among MANY) is how badly i wanted to do what the main characters did#i remember when i was first watching it while it was coming out i would CONSISTENTLY daydream about being launched into space#with a handful of other people and having to fight a war and grow up far away from home and all the suffocating stuff that came with it#and then coming back years later already solidly knowing who i am and being confident in that#so i'd actually be brave enough to be unapologetic about it. and i'd be found family with the people i went to space with also#that parts important#idk man just. i dont like saying i was abused when i was younger because i really dont think it was like that and it isnt even close to#what how people who have really been abused have had to go through#but sometimes i really do wonder. like now that im (mostly) out and able to review everything with an outside perspective#not even getting into the cult survivorism stuff this is JUST family dynamics im talking about here#bc that shit is a whole other can of worms#i think my parents were genuinely doing the best they could with the cards they were dealt but. jesus christ.#i would have given ANYTHING to be able to run away from all that. and throw magic cats into the equation? brother im GONE#anyway this tags ramble has derailed in a MAJOR way. tldr i wanted to be a paladin sooooo fuckign bad bro#like it actually makes me SICK how much i want a lion. red you are my forever girl even if only in my heart <///3#i still do want to do all that out of principle but its not as desperate now i just really love space and really want a big kitty friend#winter speaks
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pilotstreets · 2 years ago
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god. not to be sad online. but im sad online
#um. sorry i went on a really really long rant abt my emotions in the tags. hehehoho im sad!#im just like. there's no way im getting older. i feel like i haven't changed since i was 14 and i feel so disconnected from everything#my birthday is in like 3 weeks but i keep thinking im turning 15 or 16 again and i'll be able to live my teenage years again and#do it right this time or something but no! that's not how that works! obviously!#when my best friend turned 18 she immediately started saying ''im an adult im different im older'' but like#i think about how i'll be 18 soon and im just scared and im going to be holding onto teenage years and#fantasies about them that will never happen and it's just exhausting#i know i sound like such a dramatic teenager but i AM a dramatic teenager!#i had so much shit happen to me that made me lose out on so much of being a teenager and it's like#crushing that i'll never get those years back and other peoples choices ruined my life before i had a chance to have much of one#and i've missed out on so many experiences that all my friends got and i feel such a barrier between me and other people#for that reason and i also feel a disconnect between me and literally everybody i know#and making friends is literally impossible for me anymore and i just feel like i keep losing friends and one day i'll wake up and#i won't have anyone anymore. and i find it hard to talk to people who were my best friends for awhile and i just fall deeper into this#pit of loneliness every day and there's nothing i can do so i just give up. i dunno#im so tired and im just so so lonely and done with. existing#and im also never anybody's first choice which is always annoying but#and it's just.... heartbreaking to think about how my best friend will never choose me when her other best friend is there and#how when we all hang out they're both actually mean to me and there's just nothing i can do other than text my mom and cry#and it makes me doubt how much she cares if she gets that way so easily y'know?#ugh it's all juvenile problems but they just weigh so heavily on me :/#okay enough oversharing online for the night im going to sleep now. then tomorrow i'll just#have the same thoughts and it'll only get worse
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athreadofgold · 1 year ago
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We're going to the Eras Tour Film, opening night!!!! Cannot believe it! And I get to see it with my bf as well who will not be able to come to tour with us next year
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bionic-penis · 8 months ago
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Erm !! Lil rant in da tags bc !! Erm !!
#idk but i feel like im going in the right direction for once#i feel like i struggled for so long with so many things#and a lot of it was me but i feel like this year rlly gave me space to grow#and i have grown. i think i get to say that#im not longer lonely and sad and angry all the time. like if you compared me to who i was four years ago you would be shocked#im a lot more confident. i feel comfortable accepting ppls friendship and whatever that entails. i dont get upset as easily#i mean even just comparing me to my senior yr of highschool. or even last year#and i think a large part of that is that things dont feel so one-sided anymore. like its not just me anymore#im not the only one helping out at home anymore so i can finally focus on myself#and ive made so many great friends that have opened me up like some kind of oyster#like the amount of times ive been called an extrovert is crazy bc i have NEVER been called that before#and i rlly think its thanks to all these wonderful people who have given me a chance and a space to be unapologetically me#even if its weird or freaky or sometimes a little off#i spent a long time inside myself bc i was scared but as time goes on i feel that fear less and less#im just really glad. im like genuinely happy#n especially when i look back on my old posts where i was in so much pain im just glad we were able to get to this point#im just surrounded by immensely cool people. my partner. my friends. my professors. my doctors.#like i was making progress before but i feel like ive been able to truly start healing this year#i love you all. you know who you are. erm!! if you see this post n then see me i will pretend i never made it !!! so erm!!!#king magnum thirst trap WHEN#rambles#sowwy for the lore dump do you still think my cock is huge
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wonderthor · 7 months ago
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your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.
“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”
he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”
he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.
“you sure about that?”
you confidentially smirk back at him.
“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”
sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.
“how about we make a bet.”
“a bet? on what?”
“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”
“and what do i get when i win?”
sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.
“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”
you roll your eyes at him.
“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”
he laughs at you again.
“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”
you take another sip of your drink and lean back.
“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”
“what do you want?”
his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.
“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”
he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.
“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”
time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.
“what do you m-mean by that?”
he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.
“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”
a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.
it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.
but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.
when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.
“guess i win, sweetheart.”
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goldengirlgalaxy · 5 months ago
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The Bedazzler
After a very hazy night that... may or may not have been caused by something he found in the Ghost Zone, Danny ends up discovering in his haze he bought an absolutely outrageous amount of various craft supplies, especially shiny things like those little plastic rimstones.
Good news, everything was bought from a going out of business sale, so he didn't drain all of his funds. Bad news, everything was bought from a going out of business sale, which means he can't return them. And, frankly, he doesn't want to just throw away a bunch of stuff he paid for. But he still doesn't know what to do with it all.
At least until Clockwork decides to give Danny a small boon that lets him stop time. Then he gets some ideas.
It first starts off with Superman. He's doing his regular hero thing, when he suddenly feels his cape pulled to one side. He brushes it off as the wind, until people start pointing at his back. Clark nearly panics when he finds a bunch of green crystals on his cape, only to calm when he realizes they're plastic and attached with glue. That of course begs the question, who was able to glue gemstones to his back without him noticing?
Later that same day he's both amused and even more confused when Luthor appears again, only for a bunch of gem stickers to appear on top of his bald head, clearly arranged to spell out 'I Heart Superman' in icons.
Captain Marvel suddenly feels something appear on his head, only to discover it's some kind of cardboard crown. He's confused, but ultimately decides to wear it the rest of the day, thinking it might be from some meta fan of his.
Martian Manhunter finds a necklace appearing on him. When he pulls it off, he finds it's one of those Shrinky Dink plastics, designed to look like a medal that says '#1 Hero' on it, also with some extra plastic gems for extra bling. He wears it proudly for the rest of the day.
The Gotham Bats all get hit at the same time. Fake flowers, various colors of ribbons, Red Robin had a helium balloon attached to him for an hour, and of course plenty of shiny fake gems.
At first, everyone thought the funniest part of the mysterious crafts was Red Hood appearing with several rimstones attached to his hood where he mouth would be, several gold ones arranged in such a way that it looked like he was flashing a bunch of yellow teeth.
Then the Joker showed up. And was promptly doused in several pounds of glitter. Even better, it got into his eyes, effectively blinding him and giving the Bats a chance to capture him (after they were done laughing).
Of course, as more Leaguers get trolled, the more the stories start to paint a picture of someone running around pranking them. And many of them want to know just who this Bedazzler is.
Meanwhile, Danny is laughing his ass off and is planning on giving his friends a chance to have their own fun.
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mayullla · 2 months ago
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Title: His Dream Wife
Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)
Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.
Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)
Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!
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Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.
That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.
Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him. 
Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome. 
And her own manager was ripe for the picking.
She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.
Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.
Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.
He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.
Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.
He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.
Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.
That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller. 
Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.
"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.
"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots. 
Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.” 
“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.
“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”
After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.
"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"
"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms. 
Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.
This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.
Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.
"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"
He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.
"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"
He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.
It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.
The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.
He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.
The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."
[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]
[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]
[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]
[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]
From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”
"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."
He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.
A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.
It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.
She was stunning.
He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride. 
After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.
But he didn't want to leave either way.
Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.
You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.
Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.
The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.
How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.
The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.
When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.
He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.
You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.
You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them. 
You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.
There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.
Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much. 
He could not help but crumble and fall.
He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.
But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.
"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."
Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?
Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.
It made him livid. 
Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone. 
His wife and your husband.
You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.
That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.
Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.
If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.
If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.
But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.
Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.
Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.
"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."
He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.
His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.
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gguk-n · 3 months ago
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Daddy Dearest (Oscar Piastri Dad fic)
Summary- Oscar is a girl dad.
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There weren't many people who had Oscar wrapped around their little finger, except Amelia Piastri. Almost 2 years old and she could make Oscar dance like a chicken on the drop of a hat.
Oscar had met Amelia's mother and the love of his life, Y/N when they were in high-school. They started dating soon after. The year Oscar was a reserve driver for Alpine; he might not have been busy racing but he was busy with his girlfriend. The whole Alpine-Mclaren fiasco brought us baby Mia. It was a usual Thursday, Y/N had been stressing out about missing her period for the second time this month when she had regular periods since she could remember. A thought passed through her; it had been floating around in her head since last month. What if she was pregnant? Oscar and her had always been safe; but not a single contraceptive was a hundred percent perfect. So, without informing Oscar, she went to the store and bought a few tests. When the first one said positive, she did another and then another. By now Oscar had become aware of his missing girlfriend who was coup-ed up in their bathroom for the past half hour. He was knocking on the door; "babe, is everything okay? You've been in there since you returned" But when no reply came; the knocking became more rapid and worried. "Y/N, are you ok? Please answer. You're stressing me out" he begged. Then the door opened slightly. A tear stained Y/N was peaking her head out. Oscar pushed the door open and hugged her. He was scanning the room as his girlfriend's body shook slightly; that's when he saw it; pregnancy tests. He pulled away to look at her; "Have you been busy taking those pregnancy test?" he asked. "How do you know what they are?" she hiccuped. "I've watched TV growing up" he smiled. She nodded and handed the 3 tests to him. They all read pregnant in bold letters. Oscar was over joyed; "Are we gonna be parents?" he shouted. "You're not angry?" she asked. "Why would I be? I get to have kids with the love of my life. Best thing that could ever happen to me" he stated. For the first time since she got the tests, she smiled. "Aren't we too young though?" she asked. "Yes, but I could take on the world with you by my side" he said kissing her. "You'll be the best dad ever" she told him. "You'll be the best mum ever" he said. The pair stayed in each other's embrace for a long time. Oscar will never admit it but he cried and then went on reddit to research what to do as a first time dad.
Amelia was born the next year when Oscar was busy racing. He wasn't able to be there for the birth of his daughter; he might have called his mother and cried about being a shitty dad from the get-go. But his father later consoled him and told him it would be fine. Oscar flew out the first chance he got to be with his girlfriend who was being taken care of by both their parents. The first time he held Amelia, he had started crying as soon as she opened her big brown eyes and looked at him. She was an exact copy of him when he was a baby, at least that's what his mother said. Y/N had to console him instead of the baby. He was sat there with his arms wrapped around Y/N who held their daughter for a really long time. Y/N had fallen in love with the name Amelia after watching the Princess Diaries growing up and Oscar wasn't about to argue with Y/N about naming their daughter after the Queen of Genovia. That's how she was named "Amelia Opal Piastri"
Oscar kept them hidden from the world after they had mutually decided not to tell anyone except their close friends and family which some how, had now included Lando Norris, much to Oscar's dismay since his daughter from the moment she could speak called Lando her twin; Oscar hated it, he was just dad or daddy when she wanted something but Lando was her best friend and twin. Lando took great joy in having to be able to steal Amelia away. Lando was helping Oscar move since he'd been staying in Monaco longer and moving with a kid wasn't easy. Mia was being very difficult today until she saw her Uncle Lando and jumped out of Oscar's arms running to Lando. "Lan, I mwiss you" she pouted raising her hands as if to signal him to carry her. Lando quickly scooped her in his arms, kissing her cheeks which elicited giggles. She wrapped her arms around Lando's neck and turned to her dad sticking her tongue out making Oscar pout. "Come here, you're my princess" he whined. "NO. I wan Lan" she said and hugged him tighter as Oscar tried to pull her away. "Oscar, behave. We have a lot of work to do. If Lando can watch over her while we unpack, that'll be great." Y/N said kissing her daughter's cheek and giving Lando a hug. Reluctantly Oscar agreed to let Lando play with her while he got the house unpacked.
While the two unpacked, Lando kept their little princess entertained. "Lan, do you vroom vroom fast?" she asked playing with the race cars she had. "Yeah" he nodded. "my daddy, vroom vroom" she paused for a moment to think, "fast more, win, wohooo" she said jumping up when the Oscar car she was playing with won and Lando's car came in second. Obviously, Mia was growing up watching racing; her dad was a F1 racer. Lando laughed when she jumped up; "Uncle Lando won many races too" he said. "My daddy win 2 races" she said looking at her fingers, counting them and holding up 2. She looked proud of herself for holding the correct number of fingers, Lando was proud too.
All that playing had tired her out; she was now laying on Lando's chest mumbling gibberish about how Leo could fly while he patted her to sleep. Oscar came back to find his daughter peacefully asleep. "I hate that she likes you more than me" Oscar stated watching the two. "Who said that?" Lando tried to control his laugh. "You can see right now" Oscar pointed out. "Mate, she loves you so much. All we talked about was how her daddy is so fast and has won 2 races." he added. Oscar smiled, "I'll put her in her room, we just got done with that" he said slowly taking her to her bed.
The house would take a few more months before they would be able to be done completely. Mia was already enjoying her play dates with Leo and Roscoe. Alex and Leo would be over a few times a week since Mia would pester Alex to come over with Leo. Leo loved Mia so much, the two would always be seen rolling around on the floor or running after each other. They never seem to tire out until they did and then they would be cuddling each other in their sleep on the couch. Roscoe was an older dog and he had seen quite a few children, he kept Mia more tame if that was possible. He would look out for her and protect her from harms way. He was very protective of her; it was very adorable to watch.
During the break, Oscar was spending the 3 weeks with his family. Y/N had been taking the bulk of parenting their 2 year old which did make Oscar feel guilty and he would try to give her as much me time when he was around as possible. "It's time for a daddy-daughter date" Oscar cooed at Mia as he carried her to get dressed. "What does my princess wanna eat today?" he asked plopping her on the changing table. "I want dino and fries and juice and white icey and tuddles" she cheered. She couldn't say Vanilla ice cream yet so it was white icey and cuddles were tuddles which Oscar hoped she wouldn't out grow. Oscar changed her into a pink tutu on her request. The two of them sat on the sofa watching Bluey with their dino nuggets, fries and a juice. Once she was done eating, half the fries were in Oscar's mouth but who was counting; he got out the ice cream and this was the one food item she would not share with anyone. The latest episode they were watching finished up and Mia was cuddling her dad. Oscar rubbed circles on her back to help her fall asleep; "I love you my angel" Oscar whispered kissing her head. "I wuv you my daddy" she whispered kissing his chest. She had seen her mum do this a few times and Oscar's heart swelled up watching her imitate her mum.
Oscar and Y/N were busy setting up another room in their house when Mia found Oscar's phone unlocked. No one knew how she got onto Instagram but she did and ended up taking a picture of her face and posting it as a story. Within minutes Oscar and Y/N's phones were blowing up. Y/N saw messages from her friends and family to check Oscar's story; Oscar had already seen what his daughter did. The next race was gonna be so fun trying to explain who that was.
The driver's group chat was going crazy, they couldn't stop laughing about how Mia posted herself. The other drivers joked that she was sick of not being able to attend races so she decided to hard launch herself. McLaren's PR team was making a story up which Oscar shut down quickly. He had been dating Y/N for a long time and had a family with her, he wasn't about spin some shitty tale about it being someone else's daughter. This was the final push that Oscar needed to strike the iron when it was hot. Oscar would propose now; the ring he had bought was burning a hole in his pants for a while now.
oscarpiastri
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Liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,367,458 others tagged y/n.y/l/n
oscarpiastri To a lifetime of forever with the loves of my life💍🧑‍🧑‍🧒
landonorris Mia is so cute in all the pictures, I'm stealing her👀👀 oscarpiastri landonorris NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER😤😤 alexandrasaintmleux next Leo-Mia playdate when??🥹❤️ y/n.y/l/n alexandrasaintmleux Mia says tomorrow❤️❤️ logansargeant my fav Piastri is growing up so fast😭 Liked by the author mclaren such a beautiful family🧡 y/n.y/l/n mclaren I remember you trying to break it up 😐😐 mclaren y/n.y/l/n I was following orders, I didn't wanna do it🥲🥲 user1 too many things, I can't process it🤯 user2 he has a girlfriend, a daughter and got engaged all in one post🤯😭 user3🤯🤯🤯🤯 user4 Congratulations Oscar!!🧡🧡🧡 lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! ❤️❤️Mia said Roscoe is the ring bearer Liked by y/n.y/l/n charles_leclerc my beautiful granddaughter😭 user5 the Leclerc family is expanding at an alarming rate😱😱 user6 user5 does that make Leo her uncle??🤔 user7 What's her name?? user8 Mia is the cutest name for the cutest baby😍😍 user9 can't wait to watch her become a formula one driver😪 user10 only known her 2 days but if anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone and then myself user11 the last picture🤤🤤 we might be getting baby no. 2🤭🤣
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joicecubes · 4 months ago
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im feeling especially unwell today about the fact that ford was canonically the one who was the most committed to helping stan get his memory back after weirdmaggedon. i’ve been thinking about it nonstop. that he’d fall asleep next to stan watching old videos of them as kids, that he’d recount as many memories he could think of, that he spent all that time apologizing too?
like as much as they were both in the wrong for everything that happened to drive a rift between them, i feel like this is when ford would finally be able to come back down to earth and realize how much he’s failed stan. because there’s a sizeable chunk of stan’s life, aside from the 30 years he was in the multiverse, that ford knows nothing about. and how does he explain that? how is he supposed to admit to a completely unknowing stan that the reason they were apart for so many years is because stan broke his science fair project? ruined his chances to go to that college, of course, but he made it alright regardless, didn’t he? and what did stan have to go through as a result? all ford knows is that hes been to prison in three different countries. that he once had to chew his way out of a trunk of a car. his life must’ve been so difficult, he was kicked out as a teenager after all, and ford had done nothing to reach out. held this pointless grudge for over a decade.
i just can’t imagine the sheer amount of guilt ford must be feeling. to be the one to recount these memories to stan, it would give him this kind of perspective that he never had before. ford runs from self-reflection. he doesn’t think about the ways he’s wronged the people he cares about because it scares him to come face-to-face with his failures. but now he’s forced to come to terms with the reality of their situation, and the reality is that stan didn’t deserve the harsh consequences of his mistake. the reality is that, no matter how responsible stan was for selfishly ruining ford’s dream, it was ford who so stubbornly kept the distance between them. he was right to be angry. but in turning his back on his brother, his best friend, the person most important to him in the world, ford has fundamentally failed him.
ugh. i need to write a fic about this
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katz-rambles · 6 months ago
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Hi ! Could we have a childhood friends to lovers ViktorxReader please ? 🥰 I am CRAVING for new works
Yess!! I love this trope it's sooo cute!!
2k words, so I hope you enjoy, Anon!
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(fluff, gn!reader, reader is a professor, making out, getting caught, Viktors a bit of a tease (when is he never though), I think this is it!)
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰
When your family left the under-city, you knew everything would change. You were glad that it happened, it opened a whole bunch of doors for what you could become when you grew into an adult. But it also meant leaving your old life behind, one of the things you still think about to this day. Your heart aches when you think about the people you knew, you just hope that they ended up in a good place. When the shimmer trade spiked, you thought you'd never see any of the people you knew ever again, most of them probably either succumbed to the drug, or was killed during the many times the enforcers went down. You didn't like to think about it, but it's the harsh reality of Piltover.
Now you're walking the halls of one of the most esteemed universities inside of piltover, not as a student, but as a professor. You climbed your way to the top, and you know that your family is proud of you. They're the only reason this became possible, so when you got offered, you jumped at the chance. You're not complaining either, it's a well paying job with good benefits.
The day seemed to be going by incredibly slow, each hour felt like a year. You had a pile of tests on your desk that you had to mark, you've gotten through about half of them. But there's only so much marking someone can take before you feel like ripping your hair out.
So, instead of ripping your hair out, you decide to go on a coffee run and get some fresh air. You've been inside your office for so long, you're surprised you're still standing. One of the downsides to being a professor.
The walk to the Cafe down the road from the university isn't a long one. It's about three minutes, so long enough that you can get some well needed fresh air, but not long enough that you're regretting your decision.
When you reach the university, hit coffee in hand, you run into one of your former students, Jayce Talis. He gives you a friendly wave and comes up to you, “hey, professor. How's your day been?” He asks, awkwardly trying to make small talk and you have to cover your smile by pretending to clear your throat. “It's been well, thank you for asking. How's yours been?” You smile at him, not wanting to seem impolite by just ending the conversation there. He shrugs and sighs, you get the feeling.
Just when you're about to ask a question someone calls Jayce over, and when you both look over you're met with the sight of someone who you thought died long ago, but there he is, standing right in front of you, his cane in hand. You've heard of hextech, you're not in your office that much, and you've heard that Jayce didn't do it alone, but you never knew who his lab partner was. You also know that Heimerdinger has an assistant, but you were never able to catch said assistant's name. But you expected everything and anything, but him. You could have sworn he was dead.
“Viktor,” you manage to get out, although it's been years since you've last seen him, the memories you two made together as children stay fresh in your mind. Plus, he's incredibly attractive, everything from his overgrown hair to the way he leans on his cane, still managing to be taller than you, though not by much. It all had your mind swarming. His eyes rake over you before he looks back to your eyes, “Milý,” he breathes, a faint smile on his face as he continues, “you’re.. ehh.. hi.” He chuckles, standing a bit straighter on his cane. Before either of you can say anything else, Jayce buts in, “I hate to ruin a good moment, but the council wants to see us, Viktor.” Viktor nods and gives you one last nod before limping after Jayce.
Seeing someone who you hadn't seen in a good decade or so was not on your bucket list. You sit down in the chair behind your desk and lean back, letting your head just barely dangle off the back of the chair. You bring your hands up and rub your face, taking a deep breath and groaning. The sound is muffled by your hands. You sit back up again and sigh, you shouldn't feel this way. But you can't deny the way that you felt your heart race when you saw him again, he has such a boyish charm that just pulls you in, the same as is it did when you two were kids. You just chalk it up to a shock factor, you haven't seen him in years. You're just shocked, that's what you tell yourself.
The whole day all you can think about is him, you almost feel giddy, almost like a schoolgirl again. You take a breather, you've made a good amount of progress on the tests so you can afford a quick walk. Plus you have a class soon, and your classroom is on the other half of the university, and you've still got to set up your notes, you internally groan at the thought of giving another lecture. This is your fourth today.
When you finally reach the classroom, the professor that was using the room before you is just finishing cleaning up. You opened the door, only to be met with Viktor and Jayce, and then Heimerdinger soon after. You give a polite nod to Heimerdinger, and smile at Jayce and Viktor. You take your bag off and grab your notes, placing them on the table in front of you, before speaking up, “I thought your lecture ended a while ago, what are you still doing here?” You try and make your tone seem polite enough to cover up the, almost, rude question.
It's Jayce that speaks up first, “Heimerdinger thought it would be a good idea for us to sit in for one of your lectures, since the subject your an expert in is arcane.” You nod and chew the inside of your cheek. You're an amazing talker, and can easily give an hour long lecture, but with Viktor there, you feel anxious at the thought. Although it makes sense, hextech deals with arcane and what better person to listen to than someone who's an expert in it. You try and finish setting up without letting your mind wander too much, but your eyes keep on drifting from the papers in front of you to Viktor. When you look over at him, you find him already staring and he quickly looks away from you.
Now it's just a matter of waiting, you have ten minutes until your class starts so why not help Jayce and Viktor with their problems. You let them, mainly Jayce oddly enough, to ask you any questions they may have and you answer them to the best of your ability. Soon enough your class starts and you have to push away the temptation of staring at Viktor the whole time. Though, a few times you caught him, out of the corner of your eye, looking at you, and you embarrassingly stumbled over your words those times. You swear you saw the ghost of a smirk on his face at your reactions. Everything about him is so damn enticing, it's infuriating. How can one man be so wonderfully perfect, it doesn't make sense to you.
After your lecture, you're leaning over your desk, your mind swarming with thoughts, some not as innocent as you'd like.
When you're met with a hand on your back that has you letting out an embarrassingly loud yelp. Lo and behold, Viktor’s standing right behind you, with a smirk on his lips. “You seem awfully.. eh.. jumpy today, is everything alright?” He asks, moving his face closer to yours, and your heart is racing so fast you're convinced it'll jump out of your chest. His hand on your back moves lower until he rests it on the curve of your hip, gently squeezing it. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.” You sigh, doing your best to not stutter or hesitate on your words. Viktor chuckles, the sound is something you'd pay to hear again, and moves his face closer to yours again. “Well, we can't have one of the best professors sleeping on the job. Now can we?” If it weren't for the teasing lift to his words you'd think he was actually concerned, but you both know that you're he's not actually. He almost immediately caught onto your lie.
You have to crane your neck at an, almost, uncomfortable angle to be able to see his face. You have to loft your face up for your neck to not be strained too much and you unintentionally bring your faces closer together. In the moment everything feels heightened, you're more aware of him. The hand he has on your hip feels heavier, you can feel the heat coming from his body from the proximity of you two, and you can smell him, a wonderful scent mixed with oil from the lab, the salty smell of the bay, and the knee-weakening scent of his cologne. Right now, everything about him feels intoxicating.
His hand lifts from your hip and to your back, carefully nudging you to turn around so you two are fully facing each other. He then places his hand on your chin to lift your face up, once again. He lets go and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest before speaking, in such a quiet tone you almost didn't hear him, “do you feel that?” Under your palm you can feel each beat of his heart, it's fast, probably just as fast as yours is. All you can muster is a nod. “That's what you're doing to me.” He sighs and brings his face closer to yours, the sound of his words mixed with the tone of his accent is something you're slowly becoming addicted to.
You bring your free hand up to hold his face, your finger traces his cheekbone and then you rest your palm on his face. “Good.” You smirk and his eyes flick down to your lips, and you take the hint, closing the gap between you two. He presses you against the desk and reciprocates the kiss, just as eager and desperate as you are. Each second that passes by feels like an eternity, and you hope it never ends. You've wrapped your arms around his neck and his free hand is resting on your hip. You're the one to pull away first with a quick gasp for air. Viktors face has a red flush to it and you swear you fell deeper in love right then and there.
“I've waited so long to do that, when you left for the top-side the only thing I regretted was not telling you how I felt.” He chuckles, stroking your hip, and you smile and lean in to kiss him again, this time it's him who closes the gap. His lips against yours feels right, you've kissed other people, men and women, but none have felt as right or as good as this. It's a bit messy, and rushed, but it feels right. You slide your hand back down to his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm is something that has you feeling giddy. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him. The moment, unfortunately, had to come to an end, the sound of the door opening, not only were you two caught but it reminded you that you two were inside a classroom, thankfully it wasn't a student who caught you, just an incredibly shocked Jayce. You look at Jayce and then back at Viktor, who looks just as shocked as Jayce, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. “This is a place of learning, you two!” Jayce scoffs and throws his hands up, and Viktor groans, taking a few steps back.
“Good thing we're learning then, or we were learning.” Viktor teases, giving you a quick wink before going over to Jayce who looks even more shocked than before, he looks at you and then back at Viktor before groaning in defeat and chasing after Viktor. You're not sure what's going to happen between you and Viktor next, but you're sure that, whatever it is, it will be amazing.
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dailyadventureprompts · 7 months ago
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So, from a worldbuilding perspective, wizards have schools, right? It's an easy 1:1 to go from the idea of people who gets their magic from study to the cultural touchstone of academia, and that helps us figure out what institutions and cultural norms are like in our setting.
Correspondingly, clerics have temples, place where their connection to the divine was fostered among a community of fatihful who share their devotion if not their magical gifts. If you were in a d&d world and needed someone with cleric skills, you'd head toward a temple.
But what do Sorcerers have? They're usually presented as one off oddballs or magical oddities but if power exists it's a logical consequence of worldbuilding that there's going to be institutions dedicated to preserving and refining that power.
I'm going to argue that Sorcerers have dynasties, an extended family who share the collective potential for inheriting the magical gift of their powerful ancestor(s). Dynasties would likely be closely tied to the reigning power structure, extended privileges and patronage the same way that noble families are in exchange for their marital support. If you were a ruler in a d&d world, having Battlecasters on hand to shore up your powerbase is just as important as having cavalry and footmen, so you want to make sure the people who are capable of passing down their magical gift are having kids so that their heirs can support your heirs.
This puts a sorcerous dynasty in an interesting position depending on how people in your world think that magic is inherited. Is the gift recessive? Do you breed for it or follow your heart? Are you having too few children or too many? How does that factor into material inheritance? What do you do with all the children who don't show signs of being able to do magic? What if the gift skips a generation or two one of THEIR children show signs of sorcery? Can you let them marry into other families knowing you might be giving away some of your power? Could you use that as a political bargaining chip? How do you handle bastards? What's your stance on monogomy? How do you handle fertility issues? Is the magic waning over time or is it just diluted or are none of your heirs just not living up to your potential? Is there some unadvised ritual or alchemy or dark pact you can make to restore greatness to your line or awaken dormant potential? Does intermarriage with other magical practitioners of different disciplines strengthen or weaken the chance of inheritance? Is there a way to bend politics in your favour to ensure you get this infusion of new blood? Is that baseborn adventurer with the sorcerous gifts a threat to your power or a potential spouse for your firstborn?
All these are brilliant adventureseeds that I don't think I've seen explored all that often. There's only a specific type of player and a specific type of adventure that are concerned with court politics/brigerton style affairs of the nobility, but making those nobles into spell-slinging-sorcerers make them FAR more relevant characters for the background of an adventure.
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maximoff-pan · 1 year ago
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the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)
summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader
word count: 4k
warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender
a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3
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• • • • • •
“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.” 
Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens. 
You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”
Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”
Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too. 
You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it. 
Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.  
You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to. 
“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist. 
Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.
Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband. 
Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children. 
You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington. 
You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.  
“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?” 
“How will you get it to her?” He questions. 
A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”
• ж • ж • ж • ж •
The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it. 
You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered. 
According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her. 
The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation. 
Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way. 
Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in. 
“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you. 
“I never do.” Is your instant reply. 
Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested. 
But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”
You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion. 
Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through. 
“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”
“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”
You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.” 
Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”
You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you. 
And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.
You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.” 
Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”
You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.
“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”
“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that. 
“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.” 
“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”
Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge. 
You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak. 
You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”
Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won. 
“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”
Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”
Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”
“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot. 
Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”
“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”
Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.
“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.” 
Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong. 
“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you. 
“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”
If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.
Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.  
• ж • ж • ж • ж •
“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column. 
Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say. 
You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain. 
You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:
Dearest Gentle Reader,
It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym. 
By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to. 
This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?
And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.
And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n). 
As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.
May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross. 
Yours truly,
Lady Whistledown
Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling. 
“What am I going to do?” 
Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you. 
Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?
• ж • ж • ж • ж •
The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.
As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.  
Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has. 
You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so. 
“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”
You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you. 
“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now. 
“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions. 
She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well. 
We need to talk. 
Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”
“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.
If anything good can come of this, it might just be that. 
Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”
The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her. 
“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”
But that only leaves one person…
“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”
Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”
This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”
A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?
“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.
Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you. 
“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”
You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”
“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”
You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?
Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”
“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.  
“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”
Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”
“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”
Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”
“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.
“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too. 
“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”
In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.” 
“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm. 
“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”
Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor. 
Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing. 
However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all. 
“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”
She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”
Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…
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itneverendshere · 7 months ago
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school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)
warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)
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you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.
what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?
the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.
up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.
the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.
ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.
outrageous, never done before.
for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.
wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.
not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“
“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”
“just soccer?”
you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”
"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"
you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.
“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."
you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”
pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.
“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.
“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."
you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.
“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"
“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“
you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”
“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”
you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”
your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."
you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"
pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”
your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”
rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.
“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”
“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”
you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.
pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”
you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”
pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”
your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.
"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"
he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”
“seriously?”
pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”
your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.
“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”
he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”
you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”
he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."
you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."
he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."
you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."
it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?
“the ball’s in your court.”
yeah it is.
truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.
at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.
so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.
but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.
you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.
you had pope for that.
which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.
a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.
taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.
the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.
you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.
there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.
“hey?”
“you look like shit, cameron.”
rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”
you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”
rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”
you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.
there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.
"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”
rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."
he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”
"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."
“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”
rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"
"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”
you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.
and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.
“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”
rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.
“why are you mad at me?”
you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.
"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"
he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”
rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
that’s it.
you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.
“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”
for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.
“and you want to fuck me?”
you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.
“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”
"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”
rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”
“yes or no.”
rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”
“okay. so win your next match and you will.”
he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”
“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”
"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”
you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."
rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."
“i figured.”
he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”
you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”
rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."
you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.
rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.
“just win the fucking match, cameron."
rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
"consider it done."
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zaineviu · 16 days ago
Text
❛𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵❜ - L.F (SKZ)
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synopsis. Felix feels soft at the sight of his pregnant wife.
pairings. felix x reader!
content. sfw, husband!felix, pregnant!reader.
wc. 620
a/n. A very smooth continuation of ‘A little dramatic’ as I saw that many people liked that one.
part 1: ‘A little dramatic’
Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.
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"You shouldn't be drinking this."
"Felix, I have no problem with drinking this."
"But the baby..."
"The baby enjoys it, our little bean like it." Y/N took her husband's hand to let it rest on her belly.
How round and soft it was the poor man couldn't help but not smile.
"Y/N..."
"Come and hold me, drinking coke won't hurt me, it was just a little sip." Felix shook his head.
"Don't be stubborn and give me that." He snatched the empty bottle from her hands, making a mental note with throwing away all the cans that were in the fridge. "My love, the doctor said you couldn't drink these kinds of beverages, I'll make you a natural flavoured juice, okay? Healthier, healthier, and our baby will enjoy it."
Y/N groaned nodding, ignoring the sympathetic look on her husband's face.
She knew she had a commitment to eating and drinking healthy things, however; Jisung had brought a box with cans of soda that ended up forgotten in her fridge in the end, she couldn't help but grab just one can to take a mini sip of that cold Coke.
"You're so obnoxious. Baby, I hope and you don't go out like your dad, or I'll be very upset." She muttered. Her hands slid down her swollen seven month belly, in two more weeks she would be eight and you couldn't be anything but excited about it.
"I heard you, but I know our precious baby will look like you, I hope he does," the blond man confessed genuinely, sitting down next to you after leaving the full can of soda on the bedside table next to his bed. His hand never leaving your belly.
"Seven months in my belly, of course he have to." Y/N groaned, glad to feel Felix move closer and wrap his arms around you to lift your belly a little, letting you breathe.
"Do you want anything special, are you hungry, honey?"
"I don't think so, just you please... or well yeah, can you make me eat those cheddar cinnamon rolls you made the other night?"
"It tasted gross, are you sure you want that?"
"You're talking to someone pregnant, dumb. Of course I want to eat that." She groaned again after the sense of relief she felt at being in her cloying husband's arms.
"Stop doing that..." Felix pressed his lips to her neck, hiding his face in the crook of his beloved's neck. "I love you both so much...you make me so happy Y/N, I thank God for giving me the chance to be able to be with you and to have the chance to have a baby, our sweet love...I love you so much, love of my life..." 
Felix's eyes glazed over, breaking his voice at the end of his little speech, "you don't know how much I love you."
Felix began to cry, clinging to Y/N's body who smoothly turned around so she could hug him.
"I'm not leaving, Lixie, why are you crying, my sweet heart?"
"I don't know..."
"I'm the one who should be crying not you, stop crying, my love."
"It’s just that you make me so happy, so happy that I don't know how to express it."
"Everything you do for me is your way of expressing it, look, you even got me pregnant, what other proof of love do you need to get rid of that insecurity? I love you, with all my soul... and body."
Felix sobbed once more, clinging to his wife's body again. Inhaling your lavender scent, caressing your hair and letting his heart go out to her.
He felt at home.
And you felt loved.
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hello-eden · 7 months ago
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the Plan
Based off of this post.
Damien sat at the dinner table with all of the bat family. Waiting for the opportunity to set the plan in motion. all of his siblings were at the dinner from Grayson to Brown. Even Cassandra had flown in from Hong Kong. Damien definitely thinks that Cassandra knows something's going to go down but as the plan does no one harm, he thinks she will say anything.
“Danielle will be coming to visit” Damian says to his family after the conversation lulls. Alfred had just left to refill the cold water on the table. Everyone at the table turns to him in confusion.
 ”Who is Danielle?” Richard questions with a confused smile on his face. He sat down his cutlery and made a motion with his hand as if to tell Damien to keep going.
”You've literally never brought her up” Tim says pointedly. his phone had gone off just before Alfred left the room so he had been checking his phone when Damien started speaking.
”my sister” Damian says with a frown that obviously indicates that he thinks they're all stupid. Damian knows that they have no idea who she is. Making them think that there was a miscommunication Is bringing him so much chaotic Joy...
”WHAT” every single one of his siblings exclaims as his father stays silent.
Damian knows that Father is going through every single person Damian has ever mentioned in his presence trying to figure out who she is. The look on everyone's faces is going to make his entire week. Damian suppresses the urge to giggle as he tries to keep a straight face. He felt the plan was stupid originally but a Fenton can never really turn down the chance for a bit.
”why did you not inform us of this” Father says pointedly trying not to look as thrown as he actually is. Father looks seconds from bolting to the Batcave to look over his files.
Too late for that Damian can't help but think.
”I have informed you she will be coming to visit '' Damian responds as he puts down his Cutlery. He's getting to urged fidget and that is best to do under the table then over.
”He meant that you had a sister, Demon brat,” Jason exclams. The rest of his siblings exchanged looks in disbelief.
‘I know,I didn't used to have one.’ Damian thinks to himself trying not to let the fact he thinks they're all idiots for falling for this show on his face.
”I have always had a sister, we are twins'' Damian says while arches an eyebrow at Jason.  he turned his head to look at Cassandra with his eyebrow still raised. 
Cassandra returned the look. Cassandra always had a habit of being able to look through people to tell what they think. it is useful in many things but very unhelpful in this. She eventually nodded her head at him which signaled Damien but she was on his side.
Elle and him created this plan a few months before he had been sent back. they realized that almost no time had passed for the bat family which gave them the idea. The portal between worlds had just gotten finished a week ago which gave him the chance to use the stupid plan. Damian was loving the plan a lot more than he thought he would. 
This was going to be fun
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