#that’s a Lot of money for ugly ass shoes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shipmistress9 · 3 months ago

Text

Fool me once... - A 'made to Order' story

The rating for this one changed!

Rating: M

Fandom: The Empyrean - Fourth Wing

Pairing: Riorgail - Xaden/Violet

Summary: This is a follow-up to my fic 'Made to Order'. I recommend reading that one first as this is basically just an epilogue/extra to that story.

Six months have passed since 'the wedding'. Violet and Xaden are happy together, have grown into their relationship, and are about to take the next step. Then another formal even brings back bad memories for Violet, and she finally confides into Xaden about what happened all those months ago.

. o O o .

“Tell me again,” I mutter as I try for the fifth time to bind this cursed bow tie. “Why do we have to go to Dain’s wedding again?” Honestly, this is ridiculous. How hard can it be to bind one stupid knot?

With her lips pressed together to keep herself from grinning, Violet steps in front of me and reaches to do the tie for me. “It’s not—there you go—not his wedding again. It’s the six month anniversary of their wedding.”

There’s a snort coming from the living room, and I can only agree with Liam’s assessment. “This is ridiculous,” I grumble. “Who celebrates their wedding day with an equally big party as the wedding itself, let alone an even more formal one? Let alone the six month anniversary?”

Violet sighs, and I can’t blame her. It’s not like we didn’t have this conversation a few times already. I just… still don’t get it.

“Well… basically, it’s not the anniversary we’re celebrating, I guess,” Violet explains with admirable patience, especially since I know how annoyed she is about today’s event, too. “It’s a charity event and they just picked this reason to make it more interesting, make it stand out.”

Okay, that does make sense. Kind of. A little bit.

“And why do we have to go, then? It’s not like I have any money to donate.” Besides, there’s a lot of things I’d prefer instead of going to a stuffy pompous black tie event. Even though I have to admit… the last time I attended one of Dain’s ‘weddings’, it didn’t end so badly.

Violet stretches onto the toes of her high heels to place a quick kiss onto my lips. “Because as Dain’s Best Woman, I’m expected to make an appearance, and as the great boyfriend you are, you agreed to accompany me even though we both know it’ll be boring as fuck.”

A sly smile spreads across my face and I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her close. “I don’t think fucking is boring. In fact…” I let my hand glide down to her sweet ass and squeeze.

For a moment, Violet’s eyes spark with interest, her hips grinding against me. But then she sighs and pushes herself away from me. “Tempting. But that’ll have to wait for later. We really should get going now.”

A shame, really. But she’s right. And I even get why she has to go to this party. Family ties can be complicated, and the least I can do is support her.

We leave my bedroom—or does it count as our bedroom with how much time she’s spending here?—and enter the spacious living area. Liam is lounging on the sofa, a gaming controller in his hands, and I feel a pang of envy at his comfortable clothes. Stupid bow tie and smoking…

At the sound of Violet’s ridiculous shoes, he looks up and lets out an impressed whistle. “Wow, you look amazing in that dress.”

“I’ll try to not take that as an insult.” She mock-purses her lips, then grins. “But thanks. I certainly think this dress suits me much better than the one I wore to the last wedding.”

Liam smirks. “Very true. Hopefully, it won’t suffer the same fate.”

“Yeah, that would be a shame. I like this dress.”

I roll my eyes. They’re never going to let me live that down…

But I have to give Liam this much, Violet really does look abso-fucking-lutely amazing. In contrast to the ugly bridesmaid dress she was roped in to wear even as Dain’s Best Woman—and that didn’t survive that night—today, she wears an elegant black gown. The backless top is designed to look like overlapping leaves—as if just begging me to peel the whole thing off her—and the lower part is a skirt made of the finest silk—which I know for a fact would be entirely see-through if it weren’t for the countless layers used here. Her hair looks gorgeous, too, but it always does. Today, she wears it not in some intricate crown, though. Instead, it hangs freely down over her back and shoulders, and one could think she didn’t put any effort into her hairstyle. But I know that she spent over an hour in the bathroom earlier to get it to look smooth as silk like this. Personally, I prefer this over the braided crown. It further highlights the bladelike silver her hair fades into—and I know she wears it like this to stick it to her vain mum just as much as for my sake.

There’s so much I learned about her during these last months, and every tiny detail has made me love her even more. She hasn’t said it back yet, but that's okay. I don’t know what exactly happened between her and Dain before his wedding, but I know it left her deeply hurt. And if she needs time to heal and to settle into her new life—our new life—then I don’t mind giving her this time. After all, she decided to move in with Liam and me to occupy one of the many additional rooms when she just as easily could have afforded another flat on her own. She wants to be here, be with me. That’s all I need to know.

“Let’s leave,” I sigh, taking my coat and handing Violet hers before I forget all obligations and maybe break in her future room again. “After all, we mustn’t miss the stupidity of celebrating the six month anniversary of the wedding of the decade.”

“Speaking of stupidity,” Liam pipes up, mirth saturating his voice. “Do you remember that one time you spent two months moping around because you didn’t think of asking one simple question?”

Oh, Dunne, help me. This is another point he’s never going to let me live down, and… I can’t even blame him for it. Or for bringing it up today as it’s not just the anniversary of the wedding itself. But at least this one isn’t my fault alone.

“How was I supposed to know she wasn’t organising her own wedding?” I throw my hands up.

Violet snorts, but she really played her own part in that misunderstanding. “How was I supposed to know you were actively avoiding the very public headlines about Dain’s wedding? They were on the front page of every social magazine, on the radio, and all over the city, as well. For weeks!”

I grimace. “I… didn’t want to hear or read anything about you marrying someone else,” I mutter. Fuck, who would have thought that my utter lack in interest in any social gossip would ever fuck me over like that.

Violet snorts again, shaking her head, but I see the soft smile she gives me, see the emotions brimming in her eyes. And from one moment to the other, I don’t mind the teasing any more. Because she’s worth every moment of suffering.

Over on his place on the sofa, Liam groans and very pointedly picks his gaming controller back up. “You two really deserve each other.”

With a subtle motion, Violet leans her head against my arm, maybe in response to Liam’s words. And honestly? I really hope he’s right.

. o O o .

On the way to the town hall, Violet’s mood shifts. The closer we get the quieter she becomes, her lips press into a thin line, and her knuckles stand out white from how hard she’s gripping the steering wheel.

“Is… everything okay?”

Violet makes a little distressed noise in the back of her throat. “Later.”

Swallowing, I lean back into my seat. I can accept that, let her work through it until she’s ready to talk to me. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.

It doesn’t get better when we enter the town hall, Violet’s hand trembling as she shows off our invitation. She’s practically clinging to my arm. But at least she doesn’t need to focus on the road anymore. Once inside, we mingle a bit, Violet slipping into the role her mother drilled into her, chatting amicably with wealthy businessmen, high-ranking military, and even some members of the nobility. But even though she doesn’t let anything show, I can still feel the tension in her, growing with every minute. And it gets worse when the rumour spreads that the ‘wedding couple’ finally arrived.

Violet grows pale and quiet, even more so than before. And then she bolts.

She murmurs a quick “I’m sorry!”, then she slips through a side door and it’s all I can do to muffle a low curse and go after her. Following her harsh breathing, I find her around a corner. She’s leaning against a wall, eyes closed and visibly shaking.

Slowly, I approach her. “Vi? What’s up? Talk to me, please.”

“It’s nothing,” she sobs. “I’m fine. I… I’m not hurt or ill or anything. I just… just need a minute?”

With my lips pressed into a thin line, I nod. From how she looks, I guess she’ll need more than just one minute, but I know exactly where she can get as much time as she needs.

“Come.” I hold out my hand and pull her along when she takes it. I’ve been here often enough by now to at least remember the rough outlay of the servant routes. So it only takes me a minute to locate who I was looking for, her pink hair standing out where she directs her subordinates.

“Imogen?”

She finishes giving an order to a group of waiters, then turns toward me. At first, an expression of suppressed exasperation crosses her face, thinking I’m just a guest who got lost. Then she recognises me. “Xaden! On the other side of the fun for once? How’s it going?”

I grimace and ward off her attempt at brief small talk with a shake of my head. “I’m sorry, but could you give me the key to the preparations room? She needs a few minutes.”

The smile on Imogen’s face falters as she looks at Violet behind me and sees how she’s still shaking. “Of course.” She pulls the key from her pocket. “Take as much time as you need. We won’t be needing that room today anymore.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

Another minute or so later, I close the door to the preparations room and lock it. “Okay,” I murmur as I turn towards her. “We’re alone. What do you need? Just a little time? Should I leave as well?”

Violet is still shaking and clearly having a hard time focusing on anything. But she still shakes her head. “Don’t leave me alone,” she gasps and wraps her arms around my torso, her face buried against my chest.

“Alright.” I close my arms around her. “It’s okay. I won’t go anywhere. Just… just breathe. Calm down. We have all the time in the world.”

For a little while, we just stand like this. Just her in my arms, her shoulders heaving from her erratic breathing. Just me soothingly rubbing her back, her shoulders, and murmuring calming words. But then, she shakes her head, frantically. “I can’t. Calm down. My head just keeps whirling.” She sucks in a shaky breath, her hand tightening at my back. “Can you… distract me?”

She looks up at me and I see it in her eyes, the plea, what she means.

I suck in a breath, but nod. I’d do anything for her. Looking around, I guide her over to the sitting area at the far side of the room, sitting down on a cushions sofa and position her on top of me, one leg on each side of mine, her skirts pushed up to her waist and fanning out over our legs.

“Like this?” I murmur as I guide her head to rest against my shoulder, and she nods wordlessly.

I start simple, just further caressing her bare back, then her neck, her sides. When she starts to relax, I grow bolder and run my hands down to her waist, the small of her back, her ass. Violet gasps but only pushes into my touch, wanting more. So I wiggle one arm between us to lightly caress her through her underwear, then press a little harder when she mewls for more. I build her up slowly, gradually, thoroughly taking her mind away from whatever is bothering her until she can focus on nothing but what my fingers do to her. Only when she can’t stop mewling, her fingers digging tightly into my shoulders, I slip my hand beneath the fabric of her panties and touch her like she needs me to. With two fingers hooked inside her, I grind my palm against her, pushing her higher as Violet rolls her hips into my touch. Then she breaks, beautifully, her moan muffled against my neck.

I push her through it and only when she stops quaking in my arms do I pull my hand away, careful not to stain her dress or my fancy trousers.

“Better?” I murmur once her breathing evened out again.

Violet hums, cuddling against my shoulder. “Yeah. Thank you. Do you want me to…”

I chuckle. “I’m more than okay with waiting until later.” I place a soft kiss against her forehead. “So, what was this all about?” I ask, my fingers running calmly up and down her spine after I cleaned them on a paper tissue from a nearby box.

She tenses, but only a tiny bit, not enough to raise my alarms again. “I… didn’t want to see Dain and Amber again. Couldn’t at that moment.”

I nod. So it really was about him. “Do you still have feelings for him?” I wouldn’t blame her if she did. She’d been in love with Dain for nearly her entire life. Such feelings don’t just evaporate overnight.

Letting out a little snort, Violet shakes her head, then sits up straighter to look at me. “No, I don’t have feelings for Dain anymore,” she says, and the expression on her face as her eyes keep me prisoner, so full of warmth and emotions, makes something inside me melt. “I… I’m more than happy with how things are now. Between us, you and me. With… where it’s going, moving in and everything.”

Her fingers absentmindedly trace along my jaw, my lips, leaving a tingling trail in their wake. I close my eyes to enjoy her soft touch, but then wrap my hand around hers, making her pause. “But?” I probe gently. I need to know what upset her so much, if only to help her avoid it in the future.

Sighing, Violet lets her forehead rest against my own. “But… the idea of seeing him again—seeing them again—after their six month honeymoon, it brought back everything that happened eight months ago, everything I felt back then, what happened before that. And it just… it was just too much.”

She grows tenser again, but I don’t do or say anything, just hold her, and after a few seconds, she relaxes again.

“Did I ever tell you what happened?”

I shake my head. “Do you want to tell me?”

Violet lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I think I should. It might take a while, though.”

At that, I grin. “I’m in no hurry to get back out there.”

We get more comfortable on the sofa, Violet with her legs tugged to her side as she leans onto the low headrest and me sitting sideways to face her, one knee angled towards her. Her shoes are on the floor, my jacket is hanging over a nearby chair, and I even found a couple of glasses and cool water for us to drink.

“So… I told you that Dain and I have known each other since we were little, yes?” she begins, running her finger through the condensed water on her glass.

Taking a sip from my own, I nod. “Yeah, since you two were five and six, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She gives me a small smile. “And we’ve been inseparable ever since. Always sticking together, during classes and our free time alike. We went on ‘adventures’ around where his parents and my mum were stationed, always finding some places to swim or climb or caves to explore. My body is prone to giving out on me, as you know, stupid joints and ligaments, so every time I sprained an ankle or something, he was the one to escort me to the closest paramedic, carrying me there as soon as he was strong enough for that. He always looked out for me and in return I helped and explained whenever he had a problem in school. We… we were a good match.

“When I was around eight years old, I think, some other kid tried to be mean and made a comment about how Dain should marry me, the weakling, with how pathetic we both were. And, well, that thought got stuck in my head. It made sense, didn’t it? I didn’t know anything about love or sex, but just spending my life with my best friend—like how my parents also seemed to be such good friends—seemed like the way to go. So, yeah, it made sense. And I… knew that would be where we were heading, the only possible conclusion.

“It became even clearer when I realised he felt the same. For my tenth birthday, he gave me that ring. Apparently, he’d seen it in a shop and the ‘silver’ look of the stainless steel and the diamond-like glass stone reminded him of me. Or that’s what he said later. That it made him think of my hair and of how I could be and do so much more than our parents and the doctors insisted upon. So much more capable than just the sum of my weak body. Anyway, he fulfilled a few extra duties for his father to ‘earn’ himself the money to buy that ring and then gave it to me as a birthday gift. I liked it a lot, but Mira just laughed. You know how she’s never one to mince her words. So in all her teenager grandeur, she explained to us what it means when someone gifts someone else a ring. She meant to embarrass Dain and me. But unflappable and practical as he was—even at eleven years old—he didn’t let her make fun of him and instead went down on his knee and made a big show of proposing to me. It was a lot of fun, especially when Mira rolled her eyes and stomped away. We laughed and I think I made some comment about how that was a great joke. ‘Who said it was a joke?’ That was his reply. I still have it memorised, still hear him say it in my head.

“In the years after that, it came up again every now and then—the occasional amused comment about how we were already engaged, after all. We were each other’s first kiss when I was fourteen, and each other’s first time two years later with many more afterwards, even though we never talked about it, never used terms like boyfriend and girlfriend, never even decided to be exclusive. We both had crushes on other people, occasionally, but it never lasted long. Either because they felt weirded out by our close friendship or because we found that we were drawn to each other more than to that other new person. After all, we were already engaged. We could fool around and gather experience, but would always end up together anyway.

“We ‘took the next step’ so to speak when we moved to this town after high school to attend college. He even waited a year so we could do this together. We didn’t quite move in together, but we got apartments right next to each other, and with how much time we spent together, it felt very much like living together. We still never talked about the state of our relationship, but it wasn’t necessary. Not when I stopped sleeping with others, felt comfortable and at home with Dain. And he never had any visitors, either, I would have noticed that with the thin walls between our apartments. We’d spend most nights together, most of our free time, too. We even went on vacations together, and…” Her voice falters for the first time since she started her story, and she has to swallow before she can go on. “And it was clear that there was only him and me. Or that’s what I thought…”

Violet takes a sip from her water, probably to cover up how she’s blinking away the moisture in her eyes, but I see it anyway. And I feel the urge to go out there and punch Dain in the face. I don’t know yet what exactly happened, but can make a guess.

“At that point,” Violet continues after a short pause. “We never talked about being engaged anymore. It was childish on the one hand and unnecessary on the other. Because it was clear, wasn’t it? Even the friends we made during that time clearly saw what was between us. Cianna, Nyra, Amber. They would always tease us about how we already acted like a married couple, ordering food for the other or completing each other’s sentences. We just knew each other in and out. Which is why I also knew why he never actually said that he loved me or why I never said those words to him, either. His father had taught him that talking is worthless, only actions count. And we showed that we were special to each other every day, so that was enough.” Violet sniffles, and when I reach for her hand, she takes it, squeezing me tightly. “Gods, in hindsight, I was such an idiot.”

I grunt, anger simmering beneath the surface. “He let you go. So, evidently, he’s the idiot.”

Violet lets out a weak chuckle, shaking her head, then continues. “It was after we both graduated. I… expected that we would get married soon then and start our shared life for real. But I also got this offer to work abroad, a fantastic chance to gather experience and build connections. I talked about it with Dain, that I wanted to do it but was worried, too. It would be the first time we’d be separated for more than a couple of days. And he was so sweet. He encouraged me to not waste this chance. That it would be fine. That he would always be there for me, that we could continue like before once I came back. Besides, we could make phone calls, every day if that was what I wanted. So that’s what we did. We talked every day, at least in the beginning. We tried phone sex but dropped that after only one try. It didn’t feel right for him.”

I grit my teeth. From what I already learned about Dain and his… preferences, this doesn’t even surprise me. But still, fuck him.

“After the first month, or so, the phone calls grew gradually less frequent until we only talked once a week by the end. It wasn’t like much happened, anyway, it was always just the same. Just me talking about my work while he listened, too tired from his day to say much. I was more looking forward to finally seeing him again, to start our shared life. Especially since he’d teased that there was something important he had to tell me once I was back. Something important to ask me.”

“Let me guess,” I say through gritted teeth. “It wasn’t the official proposal you expected?”

Violet laughs, short and humourlessly. “No, it wasn’t. He told me that he’d proposed to Amber. Apparently, they’ve been more or less together for two years already. She’d told him that they didn’t need to be entirely exclusive, that she didn’t mind him still fucking me on the side when she was too busy for him to come around. Better for him to take the edge off with me than someone else, right? And that as my ‘closest female friend’, she would tell me about their relationship, no need for him to get involved in that girl-talk. Too bad she apparently forgot to do that.”

I should punch them both. Would I get into trouble if I did it now? Probably. But it wouldn’t be uncalled for, would it? No, surely not.

“So I came home after half a year, full of excitement for our bright future—only for him to ask me to be his Best Woman instead.” She snorts, shaking her head. But the bitterness and pain I’d expected isn’t in her voice, not anymore. Instead there’s… some dark amusement? That’s something to work with, I guess.

“I can’t believe you agreed after they did that to you. After he did that to you.” I try to make the words light, or at least lighter as the seething fury I feel. But this is not about me, it never was, and making her now deal with my reaction to what happened to her wouldn’t be fair. She’s already endured enough. And if she’s taking it with a grain of salt now that she’s got it out of her system, then that’s way better than the anxiety attack earlier.

“Oh, I still wonder about that myself,” she snorts. “I guess… I was in too much of a shock to fully comprehend what happened. It felt like a bad dream, and even now it’s… difficult to remember those days.”

Then a smile tugs at her lips, small but true. “A few things, I do remember, though. After I accepted being his Best Woman, he also asked me to do him a huge favour. He wanted me to organise the wedding cake. Yeah, it was rather late for that but he knew I could do it; I’ve always been so good at organising things.” She huffs another laugh. “I was so… so angry and hurt and just… baffled, I guess. I didn’t even think about declining. That day—the very day my flight landed and before I even got the chance to unpack my bags and take a shower—I rattled off one bakery after the other. It’s all a blur, but… I remember reading about some insider tip. And the weird baker I met there, younger than all others I’ve met that day, with his arms and half of his visible skin covered in tattoos and that dry sarcastic comment that pulled me out of my stupor.”

I blink, sitting up straighter. “That was on that day? When you first came into the shop?”

She nods, one corner of her mouth pulled up in a crooked smile. “I must have been such a mess…” She heaves a sigh and shuffles into a new position, stiff from sitting still for so long. “That night, I couldn’t sleep. It slowly sank in that my entire life, all my plans for the future lay in shambles. I was shaking and felt like I couldn’t breathe and…” She takes another deep breath. “It was so much worse than just now.

“When the morning came, I tried to pretend it wasn’t real, I think. That it was just a bad dream and that… I don’t know. That I was organising the wedding for someone else entirely? Or that it was my wedding, after all? Just… anything to not completely lose it. Which worked out perfectly.” She rolls her eyes.

“That’s why you ran away that day,” I remember, dimly. “So, you were crying.”

Grimacing, Violet nods. “I realised that I couldn’t ignore it until it went away. And it wasn’t just that day, either,” she admits. “I went straight to Rhiannon. I told you we met in college, but she was only in a few of my courses back then and had nothing to do with Dain or the others. We stayed in contact when I worked abroad, and… I crashed at her place. For a whole week, I stayed with her, unable to return to my apartment, still the one right next to Dain’s. I slept there, cried all day and night, watched stupid rom-coms that made me cry even more, and lived on a diet of ice cream straight from the tub and entirely too much alcohol.”

And I wondered whether she’d even been real during that time, I remember. Guess I hadn’t been too far off; during that week, she’d been barely more than a ghost.

“Eventually, I felt ready to move on, at least a little. I was still hurting but I got the worst of it out of my system during that week. And Dain… I would stick to my word, would be his Best Woman if only for the sake of our long friendship, and even organise that damned cake. But he wasn’t worth any more of my tears, not after all that.”

Finally something I can agree with.

“But even though that was what I told myself… I didn’t truly accept it. Not until…” She trails off, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Not until…?” I probe.

Her blush deepens as she looks at me. ”Not until the night the rain caught me off guard. Until you looked at me that night. Like… like I meant something to you. Something more.”

I suck in a breath. That first slip-up. “You did mean something to me,” I admit. “It made no sense, I’d only met you three times, but it was still true.”

Smiling, she nods. “I know. But it wasn’t just how you looked at me, how my heart skipped a beat and all the splinters of my life suddenly seemed to rearrange themselves into a new picture. It was also that… Dain had never looked at me like that. Not once. That’s when it truly clicked. That he never… never truly wanted me for more than just convenience.”

I snort. “So… what? I was your getaway car then? A distraction?” I try not to let that thought sting, that I was little more than a means to an end. Even if it started that way, it became so much more by now.

But Violet shakes her head, smirking. “No, not really. My getaway cars were the three guys Rhi and Tara tried to set me up with during three consecutive nights at the club. It was fun, but didn’t truly work, never went further than some making out in a shadowy corner. Because… well, there was this other guy I couldn’t get out of my head.” She leans forward, practically climbing onto my lap, and pecks my cheek.

On reflex, my arms close around her, pulling her tighter against me. “I couldn’t get you out of my head, either,” I murmur. “Even though I knew I shouldn’t. Or thought I shouldn’t.” I shake my head. It’s still surreal to think about how much I tormented myself for nothing.

“Yeah,” Violet snorts. “Meanwhile, I was flirting my little heart out for weeks and couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t react when you were obviously interested. Me being your customer was the only reason that made sense to me, and holding back until all business relations were dealt with was so hard.”

I chuckle and skim along her cheek and jaw with my nose, my lips. “I wouldn’t have cared about that. It wouldn’t have looked good, but I wouldn’t have cared, especially not with how it wasn’t you who paid me, anyway. You were just the middleman. But even if you hadn’t been, I was too crazy for you. I was even contemplating crashing your wedding, for Amari’s sake.”

Violet giggles as I reach a ticklish spot on her neck. “I know. I know you’d fight for me, and that I can always count on you. You would never go behind my back like that. Which is why I—” She breaks off, blushing. She shuffles to kneel across my lap again, her hands cupping my face, her eyes wide and clear. “Which is why I love you, Xaden. I do. I’m even glad by now how it all went down, including their betrayal, the headache, and all the tears. Because all that led me to you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you, looking out to a life with you.”

My eyes grow wide. During the six months we’ve been together now, she’d never said those words, and after she told me her story just now, I understand why. To her, these three little words must hold so much more meaning. Which makes her saying them now even more precious.

I lean forward with her hands still cupping my jaw and kiss her. As always, the moment our lips meet feels like a rush, getting me high on everything that is her. Her taste, her scent, the little noises she makes in the back of her throat, and the way our lips move together so perfectly. It’s not too gentle but not too harsh, either. It’s raw, filled with emotions, tender and passionate alike.

My arms wrap around her, one around her waist holding her close as the other hand glides up her back, savouring every bit of skin I can touch before cupping the back of her head. Holding her, cradling her.

Violet sighs and parts her lips, her tongue brushing against me, begging for entrance. As if I could ever deny her anything. A low groan rumbles in my chest as I let her in and her tongue glides along mine, like a promise.

With her hands still on my jaw, she angles us to deepen the kiss, and I’m all too happy to oblige, sucking on her tongue until a moan makes her tremble. Gods, I want her, need her, everything. I’ll never get enough of her, of this, of us.

Soon, our bodies follow, moving together the same way our lips do, sliding and grinding, giving and taking. I love her so fucking much.

Her mouth moves across my cheek, nibbling at my earlobe for a moment before wandering further down my neck, laving at that spot on my throat that always makes me lose control. I jerk beneath her, gasping, my hands on her hips now tightening.

“Violet!” It’s a warning, a plea, a promise, I don’t know. All I know is that this isn’t the right place to continue this—but also that I won’t care if she keeps this up for only a few seconds more. And I honestly don’t know whether to feel relief or regret when she pulls away, breathing heavily and with her forehead resting against my own.

“We should get out of here.” The happy smile and contentment in her voice couldn’t be more different from the near panic that had been there earlier.

Swallowing, I nod. “And then? Do you want to leave? To go home?”

“No, not yet,” she chuckles, breathily. “I… I want to go back out there. If that’s okay with you. I’d… like to dance with you, for us to enjoy this party, and…” She bites her lip, a blush on her cheeks, and I understand.

“You want something similar to the last time we were here? What were your words? That you wanted me to get you drunk and then fuck you until you forget your own name?”

Her blush deepens. “I… don’t think those were my words.”

“Same meaning, though.” I shrug, grinning.

She flashes me a look, full of wicked promises. “But yeah, something like that. With… maybe only one alteration.”

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow at her. “And what would that be?”

Violet leans in to breathe into my ear, still a little shy about keeping eye contact in certain moments. “I want us to go to my apartment this time.” Her hot breath tickling down my neck makes me shiver. “One last time before I move out, tonight, when they are back next door. And… I want you to make me scream.”

A shudder runs through my entire body, the stupidly tight dinner jacket trousers getting even tighter. Chuckling to have an outlet for the tension building inside me, I turn my head and bring my lips to her cheek. “I fucking love you, Violet.”

Next Chapter

#Riorgail #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #the empyrean #fanfiction #Modern AU #Bakery AU #fluff #mild emotional hurt/comfort #mild smut

16 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 2 years ago

Text

Dragon Ball Super 037

Vegeta vs. (yawn) Cabba.

So this is the one where Vegeta teaches Cabba to turn Super Saiyan. There are some good points to this episode, but for my money, it fails to overcome its most critical flaw. This is supposed to be a tournament match, but it ends up becoming a training session. Vegeta even points this out himself when Cabba asks for the lesson. He goes ahead and teaches him anyway, though, which I can understand, because he already knows he can’t get a decent fight out of Cabba, so he may as well use the time constructively.

But as the viewer, I feel ripped off. The thing is, this scenario could totally work if it were part of a card full of banger matches. But let’s look at what we’ve seen so far.

Match 1: Goku vs. Botamo. Goku wins when he drags Botamo to the edge and judo-throws him out of the ring.

Match 2: Goku vs. Frost. A complete mismatch. Frost cheats to win, the decision is later reversed.

Match 3: Piccolo vs. Frost. A complete mismatch. Frost cheats to win, the decision is later reversed.

Match 4: Piccolo vs. Frost. A rematch after Vegeta requests Frost be reinstated. Vegeta demands that Piccolo forfeit so he can fight Frost himself. Piccolo agrees.

Match 5: Vegeta vs. Frost. A complete mismatch. Vegeta knocks Frost out of the ring with one blow.

Match 6: Vegeta vs. Auta Magetta. A shitshow. Vegeta float around for ten minutes dodging lava until he finally remembers he can just solve all his problems with ki blasts. Also, insults wear down Magetta’s resolve so this was actually another mismatch.

Match 7: Vegeta vs. Cabba. Another complete mismatch.

Tell me, dear reader, which of these is your favorite? Probably Vegeta vs. Magetta, just because it wasn’t a one-sided rout. And yeah, it’s the best fight of this saga so far, but it still isn’t very good. It’s what Jim Ross would call “bowling shoe ugly.” But at least Magetta made his opponent work for it, which is more than I can say for his teammates or Piccolo.

Now, there’s still three more matches to go after this, and we do see an uptick in quality, but there’s also another mismatch in the bunch. To put it simply: the Destroyer Invitational Tournament is a one-match show. That sucks ass, because it’s a tournament! There are supposed to be lots of good matches! Maybe all of them should be good! I mean, why is that not something to aspire to?

All right, so let’s talk about the good aspects of this episode. The main thing Cabba brings to the table is Saiyan lore, and I’m always down for that. This arc did help me iron out some details about the Saiyan history I wrote into Luffa. For example, even though the U6 Saiyans are very different from the U7 Saiyans, and they seem to have very divergent histories, Cabba still uses the same fighting stance Vegeta used when he first fought Goku on Earth. And Cabba uses the Gallick Gun, which indicates that these aren’t just things Vegeta invented himself, or even something he picked up from his royal family. No, if Cabba has the same knowledge, then that means Vegeta’s style is based on something far, far more ancient. And this scene led me to conclude that Luffa should know the Gallick Gun and Vegeta’s DBZ Episode 30 stance as well. If they date back to ancient Sadala, then that knowledge would be commonplace among Saiyans, even a thousand years ago.

Recently, I was thinking about the history of the Universe 6 Saiyans, and it occurred to me that it kind of makes sense that Cabba has never heard of the Super Saiyan form. According to the Battle of Gods movie, the Super Saiyan God ritual was used to empower one righteous Saiyan so he could wipe out the wicked Saiyans of his era. He failed when the form wore off. Later, Akira Toriyama declared that this ancient Saiyan hero was named Yamoshi, and he was the first Super Saiyan, as well as the pioneer of the Super Saiyan God form. The Super Saiyans who followed Yamoshi would arise every thousand years, and supposedly their transformation was awakened by his vengeful spirit. I think that’s how it was supposed to go.

So what does that have to do with Cabba? Well, in his universe, the Saiyans are all good guys. They don’t have tails anymore, and they don’t terrorize planets. Instead, they hire themselves out to defend weaker planets from powerful aggressors (something else I cribbed for Luffa.) Cabba even said that the Saiyans in Universe 6 still live on their original homeworld, Sadala.

In that case, the conflict Yamoshi fought in Universe 7 must have turned out very differently in Universe 6. Maybe Yamoshi’s counterpart won in that world. He wiped out all the wicked Saiyans, and retired, never using the Super Saiyan God ritual again. Or mabye Yamoshi’s counterpart never had to fight at all. The Saiyans of his era were cool guys, so he never needed to become a Super Saiyan God in the first place. Either way, there was no “vengeful spirit” to trigger the rise of Super Saiyans in Universe 6. And without that, there was no Super Saiyan Legend. Which means Cabba would never know about the Super Saiyan form until he saw Goku and Vegeta in this tournament.

This kind of ties into something else this episode helped me work out for Luffa. A big question about the Super Saiyan Legend is why none of the ancient Super Saiyans taught anyone else how to do it. Goku taught Gohan, after all, and Trunks and Goten were so gifted that they learned it on their own. So why was there only one Super Saiyan every thousand years? Sure, some of them might not be inclined to share their secret, but some of them must have craved a worthy opponent.

This episode gives us an idea of the answer to that. Cabba begs Vegeta to teach him the transformation, and Vegeta is disgusted that he would even ask such a thing from an opponent, during a fight. So he turns Super Saiyan and whoops Cabba’s ass for a while. Cabba tries to surrender, but Vegeta refuses to let him. He threatens to kill Cabba, rules or no rules. Also, he threatens to destroy Planet Sadala, and kill Cabba’s entire family.

And that does the trick. Cabba goes wild and seems to turn the tables on Vegeta for a bit...

But it soon becomes clear that Vegeta was just letting Cabba run loose for a while to get him acclimated to the form. Then he tells Cabba to transform again, and he seems to have the form under control.

The point of all of this is that it’s not exactly an easy thing to teach. Vegeta had to resort to physical attacks and threats against Cabba’s loved ones to push him over the edge. A Super Saiyan altruistic enough to share their knowledge with others might not be so eager to engage in that kind of cruelty. In DBZ, Goku got Gohan to Super Saiyan, but he had to shoot at him with a Kamehameha to do it, and Goku was kind of reluctant to push it that far.

Also, imagine using this teaching approach on a Saiyan like Turles, who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. What loved ones can you threaten? Which world can you destroy? It wouldn’t awaken anything in him because he doesn’t care. The irony is that the U6 Saiyans are a lot easier to train in this sort of thing, but they have no concept of the Super Saiyan to aim for. Meanwhile, the U7 Saiyans had the legend but generally lacked the compassion to understand how to get to it. And that’s why there was only one every thousand years.

Of course, later on, Cabba will teach Caulifla how to turn into a Super Saiyan, and that’s where the whole “tingly back” thing got started. But that’s the exception that proves the rule. Cabba was willing to teach the form and Caulifla was eager to learn, but he still had a hard time explaining it to her, and he lacked Vegeta’s talent for inspiring righteous fury. Caulifla understood how to get to the bottom of the matter, but she’s a rare talent. Most Saiyans wouldn’t ask such perceptive questions.

Anyway, back to the fight. Vegeta turns Super Saiyan Blue to show Cabba where the road leads next. Then he one-shots him and wins the match.

Cabba thanks Vegeta for his instruction, and tells him that he’s a lot like the Saiyan King on Planet Sadala.

Goku is surprised that Vegeta would do all this for an opponent, and Piccolo suggests it’s because Vegeta wanted to spend some quality time with another Saiyan. Goku points out that he’s a Saiyan, and Piccolo’s like, yeah, but he hates you, Goku.

I mean, yeah, Goku’s Different, no doubt about that. Vegeta can bond with Cabba in a way that he can’t with Goku. But I think Piccolo’s got it wrong. Vegeta has a similar desire to support Goku, I think. I mean, they hang out a lot. Goku doesn’t need much mentoring, and his Earthling traits probably irritate Vegeta, but who else has he got? He’s the Prince of All Saiyans, and that includes the big orange goofballs like Goku.

So the next match is Vegeta vs. Hit, and as they prepare to face off, Vados informs Champa that she had to promise him the Hexahedron to get him to join the team. Champa is upset to hear about this, because the Hexahedron is a vehicle of gods, capable of travel between universes. But he had told Vados to get Hit on the team by any means necessary, so here we are.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #vegeta #cabba #hit #goku #piccolo

21 notes · View notes

pink-pony-grrrl · 6 months ago

Text

Met gala 2024

Ahh the met gala. The one of many days a year where America forgets every other injustice going on in the world and turn to celebrities that have more than enough money to give to a country to help aid them and still have enough money left for themselves. This years theme is Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion. When I hear this I think of fashion from older decades. I think of fashion spanning from the years of 1950-1970. So I'm expecting a lot of fashion taking inspo from that. The dress code is Garden of Time. So hearing this I can also expect lots of florals. Without further ado, here are my thoughts on the met gala.

Gigi Hadid. My queen, the peoples princess. She looked great. The dress itself wasn't ugly and it fit her form very well. The look was very classy and elegant. This is def a wear

a suit. I think the accessories add a uniqueness to the outfit worn. The steampunk look might be paying homage to the Wizard of Oz who he is playing in the new movie coming out. Would probs wear

Hmmm.... the red down the middle of his pants makes him look like he left his tampon at home. I like the silhouette that the top gives but overall the outfit is kind of ugly. The shoes look like horse feet and are js so.. idk he couldve done better. tear

Not my fav look. This color is really harsh and nothing about this follows the theme. the bottom looks like a trash bad or a bedsheet from ikea. Tear

Im NGL, i thought this was Billie Eilish but she looked great. Had a very old timey feel and the flowers look ate so hard. wear 100%

this is a very basic look and doesnt fit anything at all. tear

slutty ass outfit. wear

FKA TWIGS MY BELOVEDD!! SHE SERVED SO HARD (im biased). but that coat look likes carpet

I really love this look but i dont really see the garden look. wear tho!

more coming soon :)

#Gigi hadid #jeff goldblum #bad bunny #adwoa aboah #sydney sweeney #camila cabello #jeremy pope #fka twigs #michelle williams #met gala #met gala 2024

5 notes · View notes

the-mother-of-lions · 1 year ago

Text

i've been thinking a lot about the whole bad bunny v jbalvin thing. and after thunder y lightning got released i need to dump my thoughts.

like. what did mans think was going to happen when he signed a contract with a known asshole? a known vulture, a known vampire. this guy makes abusive and one sided contracts with the sole purpose of making money. did you think you were going to be treated differently bc you're not taylor swift? bc you're a man? bc you're white? that guy had no intentions of making you famous. like i'm sure you made a bunch of money and got your bag but like. at what cost? your music since 2019 since oasis has been ass. its so obvious that you don't like what you're putting out that you're heart is not in what you're making. like why are you collabing with all these english speaking white musicians? you're not going to crossover in a way that matters you just look like a sellout to people who did like you. and i'm still mad about the concert you fucking cancelled last minute. plus your shoes are fucking ugly.

i bet you feel like benitos success is undeserved and that it should have been you. i can and do respect what you did for the culture and for the reggaeton music genre in the 2010s but you're a garbage person. like why in the fucking world would you think its okay to put women, especially black women, on leashes in a music video?? what kind of label would also support that and let you release that?? a fucking terrible one. plus didn't you also make a couple disparaging comments about benitos comfortableness with his own sexuality and gender expression? i could be mixing you up with anuel aa but the point stands.

you and anuel and mambo kings and dj luan are all getting whats coming to you.

at this point you should be grateful for any bones bad bunny throws you bc he is literally holding down your career rn. if all your top songs are collabs with bad bunny and only bad bunny, you should fucking take a hint.

#do not be acting a fool in my notes or asks or dms rn #bad bunny #j balvin #discourse

1 note · View note

gunnygazette-blog · 2 years ago

Text

WEEK #12 GAME-BY-GAME

Last week of the Regular Season...not alotta Drama...just some seeding tiffs...

Game of the Week

* (40) Iron Chickens (0-8) @ (24) Minners (2-6) 0-49

- Minners need to win by 18pts or more…

G#2 (10) D-League Champs (6-3) @ (7) Pee-Rats (8-1) : 28-29

- Should be a slugfest of two different styles...brawler versus finesse...just like Week #6 when physicality won 38-12 for the Pee-Rats… Much closer...just the same outcome.

G#3 (3) Angry Fairies (8-0) @ (12) Mee-ah-Mee Raid (5-4) : 35-24

- The Ugly Uniform crowd found a way to pull it out in the waning moments back in Week two...15-14…and have feasted on a pretty cream puff schedule. The Raid have struggled to closeout teams in the final minutes and may struggle again this week…an offense that is hot and cold...goes freezing in the fourth.

G#4 (13) Hooded Snakes (8-1) @ (4) Du-vowel Raid (9-0) : 19-31

- Not exactly winner takes all…but almost… At risk is the #2 seed. Thanks to a week three Raid win...23-20…they have a 2pt lead in composite scoring… The reason why they don’t get the full 3pts...is because a tie in the composite score would favor the serpent’s higher scoring offense. So not only must the legless-ones must win...but by 3pts or more.

G#5 (15) Du-vowel Kitties (5-3) @ (16) Water-Lizzies (6-2) : 9-22

- Both teams battling for the fifth seed...and thanks to a 14-6 week #3 win for the Kitties...they sit in the catbird seat.

G#6 (22) Tampa spotted Kitties (3-6) @ (18) Southern Spotted Kitties (4-4-1) : 3-17

- Bad Jag vs Meh Jag… Should the winner have to pick a new mascot? The Algorithm thinks this game will be closer than I do...but than again...it may not happen...

G#7 (21) Bad Weather (5-3) @ (20) Grizzled-ones (5-4) : 14-35

- Winner jumps the other in the seeding…in a rematch of a 14-13 Wk3 game that saw the Clouds winning a home game… Now they are on the road...Bruised Bruins get their revenge...and the chance to host next weeks rubber match...

G#8 (23) King Kitties (2-7) @ (14) Cow-Pups (5-4) : 0-25

- The Kings without a crown have been pretty toothless...and got clobbered at home in week #9 by this very same team...26-0… The computer thinks this will almost be a re-run of the previous movie...

G#9 (30) Otha Bull-pups (1-7) @ (19) A-meri-cant’s (4-5) : 16-42

- Don’t wanna see it...don’t expect it to happen…

G#10 (9) The Newest Comic-als (7-2) @ (38) Ghosts (2-3) : 32-2

- Yeaahh...this could get ugly...

G#11 (11) Chicken-hawks (5-3) @ (31) My lil’ Ponies (4-5) : 49-11

- Play-off are on the line...wait...who am I kidding… Should not be close...as only one has realistic aspirations…

G#12 (26) Reaps (1-6-1) @ (8) Otha Sparties (5-4) : 13-53

- They’ve met a few times...but this will be the only time this year...Sparty needs a “get right” game after spending all that money and effort last week only to get ran over...

G#13 (2) Waskily-Weasels (9-0) @ (27) Concrete Shoes (3-6) : 46-0

- Uhmmm...Uhh-uhh-uhh-uhh-uhhhgleee… If they play...Skunk Bears will be all out to score points...and lots of them… (Than again...when do they not?)… The Gangsta’s don’t have enough speed to keep up...but the Waskily-ones might trip a few times..

G#14 (34) Terrible Tigs (0-9) @ (5) A.R.M.Y. (7-2) : 0-73

….somebody is going to be padding some stats...

FORFEIT CITY and the SHOULD HAVE BEENS

(NR) Chum Bait (0-2) @ (35) Otha Kitties (2-7) : 16-25

(25) RainCoats (5-3) @ (29) F-Criminals (3-5) : 6-21

(24) Minners (2-6) @ (39) N-Criminals (0-9) : 23-3

(40) Iron Chickens (0-8) @ (28) Rubber Snakes (4-4) : 12-49

* (NR) Chum Bait (0-2) @ (6) North Weasels (9-0)

* (17) Jesters (3-6) @ (36) Feather Dusters (3-6)

* (32) Corpse Munchers (0-9) @ (1) Sorry-Ass Champs (9-0)

- (32) Corpse Munchers (0-9) @ (36) Feather Dusters (3-6) : 25-7

- (1) Sorry-Ass Champs (9-0) @ (17) Jesters (3-6) : 42-8

- (6) North Weasels (9-0) @ (33) No-Sho-Bruins (0-6) : 44-0

0 notes

riverofrainbows · 2 years ago

Text

My grandmother is storage rooms georg. She has 4 basements/rented storage rooms full of stuff. At her old house she had 80m² basement full of closets full of stuff plus two more she rented. What does one need all this storage for you ask? Well, 8 sets of cutlery, several sets of dishes, antique glass ware, antique porcelain ware, ugly ass decoration from several decades of antique shop shopping as a hobby, some of my great grandmothers stuff ("it cost 40 D-Mark in the 60s, it's in perfectly good condition you could get a lot of money for it") (you can not), severed doll heads ("so unique and quirky!"), candle holders, christmas decoration, old fur coats, shoes, carpets, several stacks of interior design magazines,

#own post

0 notes

quinweisz · 2 months ago

Text

It was a lot harder to be accommodating when you were sober, Quintana realized. If not for the hits of nicotine unfurling in her chest, she might say something really nasty-- some clever twist on 'when you assume you make an ass out of you and me'-- but Quin left it in favor of another unnecessarily long puff. "Yeah," she sympathized, feeling a pang of remorse for the stranger. Addiction was ugly no matter where you saw it or experienced it. Quin would bet money that she and the stranger had seen a lot of the same shit-- if she wouldn't get addicted to gambling that way. "One thing at a time was my sponsor's advice," she offered, taking a final puff and stomping the cigarette out beneath her shoe. "Did the cold turkey thing. Not trying to do that again." Quin cleared her throat, the mention of those early days of withdrawal almost making her sweat, "You got a name, or should I call ya DARE?"

elspeth didn’t know whether to thank the other or step back and cut their losses. instead, they stood quiet, staring back at the stranger, watching plumes of smoke puff from their mouth like an old-timey chimney breast. it wasn’t that they wanted to anger the stranger, although maybe the ship had already sailed—they had wanted to warn, to protect. they seemed to be somebody that threw themself straight into the fire rather than passing a single finger through to test the flame. “that’s—” a small sigh, a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding, “smoking is a lot better, you’re right. the things i’ve seen . . . ” purple arms, bloodshot eyes. the sobbing relatives, inconsolable. it wasn’t her place, elspeth knew it, but when every night was filled with broken sleep, dead eyes, haunting faces in the darkness, they felt it was their duty to protect the people she could. the harsh reality was that elspeth couldn't save anybody. “i really hope you don’t end up in that situation. either situation.”

#w/ elspeth #addiction tw

7 notes · View notes

benbenblog · 2 years ago

Text

Guo Wengui's obsession

In recent years, under the watchful eyes of the public, Guo Wengui has been eloquent and eloquent. The content of the exposed materials is insignificant and eloquent. Even if the lies are exposed time and time again, he still tries to calm down and pretend to talk and laugh, which is disgusting to watch. So what is it that supports Guo Wengui's brazenness and grandstanding? Today, let's talk about Guo Wengui's obsession.

When it comes to Guo Wengui's obsession, at a small scale, it is his career of breaking news, and at a larger scale, it is political asylum, so as not to be imprisoned. For his obsession, Guo Wengui took great pains to "get up after falling down", big lies one after another, farce and scams emerging one after another, and while we were dazzled, we couldn't help but sigh with emotion. "The middle-aged man is not crazy.

Let’s talk about Guo Wengui’s leaking career first. Don't look at him in the live video, spitting stars flying all over the screen, talking nonsense in a serious manner, but there are very few people who believe him to break the news. Guo Wengui's revelations have long gone into a dead end. On the one hand, his false revelations could not stand up to scrutiny, and on the other hand, the public has long been "fatigued by his ugliness". The best example is the death of Wang Jian. It has been a month since he passed away. Guo Wengui has become the only person in the world who is holding on tight and is still hyping it up. Why? For what, Guo Wengui is not for the small obsession in his heart, breaking the news career. Finally, there is a topic, whether the career of breaking the news can be turned over depends on this, how can he easily let it go.

Besides, those people who follow his ass and play tricks for the tiger are nothing more than looking at Guo Wengui's stupid money and profits. Some pro-democracy activists and Internet celebrities regarded Guo Wengui as a god when he was famous, but when Guo Wengui became a rat crossing the street, they abandoned him like a shoe. Based on this alone, it can be seen that the absurd stories made up by Guo Wengui are not the goal of his leaking career at all, and the "down with the thieves" and the "Himalayas" are all pretexts he found, so that he does not look like he will be in trouble. So funny. Think about it, a wanted criminal, without any pretense, sits in the erotic story of a high-ranking CCP official all day long. Isn't this person sick, who would believe it? At this point, we will understand that what Guo Wengui said is not important, because it is all nonsense. The key is that Guo Wengui thinks in his heart that he fantasizes relying on these bizarre and erotic revelations to gain attention and bring fame and fortune to his lackeys. , let Americans see the value of his existence, so as to seek his greater obsession, political asylum.

Up to now, what Guo Wengui has said and done has always been the same, and it is always for political asylum, which also coincides with his own goal of "protecting life, wealth, and revenge". Without knowledge and skills, relying on power and money transactions, and accumulating a lot of ill-gotten wealth, how ideal a person like Guo Wengui can be. He fled to the United States and moved out of the gimmick of the Whistleblower Revolution, still in order to survive, so that he can continue to be a fan of money. With this obsession, even if he is notorious, even if he is scolded by the public, Guo Wengui will not hesitate to do anything, and he will pretend to be crazy and foolish. But things backfired, and political asylum may have become Guo Wengui's out-of-reach dream. Rapists, forged state documents, forced transactions, from violent crimes to economic crimes, Guo Wengui has completely become an "all-rounder" in the field of crime. In addition, his own leaking business has overdrawn his credit and offended his allies, which has become a stumbling block for him, his "chicken ribs". Americans will not take the risk of the world and keep this "chicken rib" to themselves.

One thought becomes a Buddha, one thought becomes a devil. Guo Wengui's mind is not right, he specializes in evil ways, and because of his obsession, he goes crazy. Even if people pretend to be a devout "Buddhist", they still can't cover up the bad deeds in his life. Regardless of the cause of breaking news or political asylum, Guo Wengui's obsession will eventually turn into his resentment.

0 notes

scoopsgf · 2 years ago

Note

You can delete this if you want to but another anon mentioned to @rorygilmoregf how many r*gan fans' obsession with Logan can pretty much be traced back to him being rich. And when you think about it, a lot of the complaints they throw at Jess and in turn compliment Logan for are in some way connected to money. Take for example Jess dropping out. Everyone that has little to no understanding on why he had no drive to finish high-school just go on about how they had a hard time in high-school too, but it's no excuse. And they keep acting like Jess was just....fucking around in the middle of school hours as if he wasn't working as a full-time employee at Wallmart, doing a physically taxing job in order to have money for himself bc he knows Luke's support is conditional, and because he likely never got any monetary support or security from Liz. By contrast, Logan got kicked out of multiple private schools for getting into trouble, yet not only finished, but also got into Yale because of his father's money. The same goes for Jess vs Logan's romantic gestures. When Logan supports Rory into getting a permanent felony for larceny, it's romantic and "supportive", but Jess being spontaneous by simply taking Rory out on a ride in her car that ended in a crash on accident means he's dangerous and shouldn't be trusted. Logan knows how to charm someone like Emily bc his family name has already secured him her favor, and at the same time tries to take advantage of that by stealing from her bc he just "likes to play pranks". Jess ends up saying two sarcastic lines to Emily bc he's embarrassed over a black eye, and he's deemed a thug while Logan fans think he's "insane". Even something like the Birkin bag is seen as this incredible feat of Logan's and not simply him flexing his money to Rory for something that she has little interest in. If Logan didn't have the money to make some of his attempts look big and 'significant', chances are he would've come off as desperate as Marty towards Rory.

you’re so fucking right. logan’s wealth masks a lot of his shittiest aspects. take him stealing that trinket from the gilmore house and getting that maid fired—this is apparently something he does at like every house he visits, so how many people have lost their jobs because of his bullshit? but of course it’s okay because it’s logan and he’s rich <3 him getting rory that ugly ass birkin bag is further evidence that he knows like, next to nothing about who she really is. we learned very early on in the show (rory’s birthday parties) that rory prefers gifts that are heartfelt and significant and simple, not thousand dollar purses bought on a whim just because. the way he flaunts his wealth honestly makes me feel so disgusted as an audience member. imo the only people who ship rogan are people who want to be in rory’s shoes/think logan is attractive, not people who actually think they’re a good couple (because they’re not, they really kind of suck together actually).

#asks #anon #gilmore girls #anti rogan #anti logan huntzberger #also me saying they suck isn’t like. hate directed rory’s way they just don’t work together

85 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

The Wrong Idea | Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: you weren’t exactly a rebel in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean you cared for the corrupt, alcoholic town sheriff. and that certainly didn’t mean you would care at all for him marrying your mother. if only you’d known how much worse it could get...

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut!! (heavy dubcon/noncon), age gap (reader is 19), stepcest, loss of virginity, pain kink, creampie kink, infidelity, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, authority kink, subtle ddlg themes?, reader’s mom being toxic af

You’d never cared for the Sheriff. Even you, being generally a well-behaved young woman, thought he was a little too intense and a little too corrupt. Up until now, you’d assumed your mother agreed with you on that, because she never protested to your complaints about Sheriff Bodecker and his ‘fascist reign of terror’ as you called it. Apparently that was a poor assumption, though.

“You… what?!”

“I never told you we were seein’ each other because I knew you had your childish rebellion against him and his police force,” your mother explained with a demeaning eyeroll. “But now that we’re engaged, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“How long has this been going on?” you asked quietly, still in shock at what you were hearing— and unable to take your eyes off of the sparkling diamond wrapped around her finger.

“Oh, I’d say… about two months now,” she decided.

“Two—” you stopped and started over, so bewildered that you couldn’t finish your original sentence. “You’re engaged after two months?”

“Don’t make that face at me, you look so ugly when you scowl like that,” she frowned. Of course, she could never miss an opportunity to nag you. “He’s a respectable man, and he treats me well. The wedding is in three weeks— and he’s generous enough to let you live with us after that. Says there’s a spare bedroom for you in his house.”

“His… his house…” you slurred, suddenly feeling light-headed. “I’m… we’re moving…?”

“Yes, honey, and with your work ethic it’ll take you the whole three weeks to pack up, so you should start now,” she informed you with that cruel, fake smile of hers.

She walked away as you sat down on the couch, staring off into space, trying to comprehend what you just heard. It’s not like you thought your mother was flawless or anything, or that you and her had a perfect relationship, but you thought she would’ve been a little more… gentle about all this. She could do better than him anyways! But she didn’t care about that, only money and status. You could almost laugh at her small-mindedness to think the Sheriff of a nothing-town like Knockemstiff was actually plentiful in either of those things, but right now you couldn’t laugh. You couldn’t even cry as you packed your things and said goodbye to the home you’d known your whole life. You were just numb.

You couldn’t look him in the eye when you arrived at his house, duffel bags in hand and shoes stained with the dry red dirt of summer. It was nicer than your old place, and if it were anyone else’s you’d say it had charm, but everything was tainted because you knew it was his. You could sort of tell that this had been his bachelor pad for a while, but it had a half-assed attempt at hominess with the rug in the living room and a centerpiece on the kitchen table. He even had a TV, presumably funded by bribes and all his other nefarious dealings— meaning you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to watch it.

“Nice to meet ya, properly,” Lee greeted, though his monotone didn’t come across as particularly impassioned.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with.

“You don’t have to call me Sheriff anymore, you know. Not in the house, at least.”

You nodded but said nothing, following him as he motioned for you and moved into the hallway. You trailed behind him, noticing the eerie lack of any personal effects on the walls (no family photos, apparently, and not much of a family to photograph in the first place from what you’d heard), and stopped when he reached the door at the end.

“This is your room,” Lee informed you stiffly. Opening the door, you were horrified by the assault on your eyes of pink. Pink everything: pink wallpaper, a pink fuzzy quilt, pink bedframe. There were even assorted stuffed animals on the bed, disturbingly enough.

“When my mother told you she had a daughter, did she not mention that I was grown?”

“You may be nineteen, honey, but you’re nowhere near grown,” he scowled. “She didn’t tell me she had a daughter until two days before the weddin’. This is what I managed to... improvise, since then.”

You almost had sympathy for him, just in that you two were both victims of your mother’s eccentricity. Almost.

“Must’ve inherited your expensive taste from your ma,” he frowned. “Sorry, princess—” the nickname made his lips curl like the word itself tasted sour— “but this’ll have to do.”

“Oh, I’m nothing like her,” you sneered back, “cause I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“What are you two chatting about?” your mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

Both of you answered at the same time: “Nothing!”

With a grimace, you dragged your bag into the room and shut the door in his face. It was those little acts of rebellion that had to tide you over. You weren’t audacious enough to do anything actually cruel, or illegal, but you weren’t going to make this any easier for him.

At first it was just refusing to leave your room. That worked for a week, until you realized you were going to starve to death. So then the only times you saw him were at the dinner table, which you made into a protest by pretending he didn’t exist and refusing to answer his questions. You occasionally relented when he asked you to pass something from your side of the table, but you never looked at him while you did it.

He didn’t seem angry or sad about your determination to avoid him, if anything it seemed like he was happy to pretend you weren’t there either. And that should’ve made it easier, but for some reason it bothered you even more. You realized that maybe his attention did matter to you, even though it was negative attention that you were hoping to inspire, but you knew that was ridiculous and you tried to fight it. Still, for all your plans to never see him, you sure did think about him a lot. You thought about where he might be, so you could be somewhere else. You thought about what he must be doing at work, and how he was probably continuing to be a nasty mean drunk as frequently as possible. You wondered if he and your mother were making love just across the house, although you were lucky enough to never hear anything. Just knowing that could be happening made you feel sick, even though you realized it was none of your business.

You sometimes found yourself listening for it at night, just in case.

Your mother had decided to spend her new husband’s money on a trip, but the man himself couldn’t tag along— too much work to do, apparently. The prospect of being left alone with him was nightmare fuel, but you didn’t even try to ask her to stay… you knew she wouldn’t listen. She’d been totally absorbed in her own world since the wedding, seeming to be very fulfilled by the social role of ‘Sheriff’s wife’ to the point that she had lost all interest in her former position as ‘your mom’.

There was a balance to the silence with her gone, though. You avoided him, he avoided you; it was a tense truce, but a survivable one. At least without her, nobody was going to try to make you two get along. Friday night was different, though. This time when he came home from work, you knew you were stuck with him until Monday morning. That thought made you realize that you needed to get out and you didn’t care if you weren’t dressed for it. It was hot, and it was just a walk so nobody was going to see you in this miniskirt anyway, right?

Too bad Lee was sitting on the couch, still in his uniform, not giving you any mind but likely to harass you before you could make it outside. You figured if you just walked casually enough, he wouldn’t even notice, so you made your way towards the door.

“You’re not going out like that,” he announced suddenly, seemingly without even looking up from his newspaper.

“Says who?” you deflected quickly with a raised brow. It wasn’t that you wanted to pick a fight, but you just couldn’t understand why he would even care what you were wearing.

“Says the guy who doesn’t want you to give all the neighborhood boys the wrong idea.”

“What idea?!” you asked, crossing your arms. He shot you a look, quickly raking in your body and outfit which made you feel more observed than you cared for.

“The idea that you’re a slut,” he explained coldly.

You gulped at his words but tried to keep a poker face. You didn’t let it get this far just to give up. You were so sick of his shit; what made him think he could boss you around when he’d never even tried to get to know you?

“What makes you assume that’s the wrong idea?” you shot back, fighting the nervousness in your voice.

You hadn’t expected him to stand up instantly, the coffee table wobbling a bit when his knee bumped into it.

“The fuck did you say?” he hissed.

With his teeth bared at you he looked like a predator, and you felt like small, helpless prey. You tried to muster some of your former confidence, but everything came out shaky and weak. “I— I said that maybe it’s not the wrong ide—”

He pounced, crossing the room and slamming you back against the wall, a hand at each shoulder; you instantly cowered, shrinking back and turning your face away from him as far as you could. You never thought he’d put his hands on you like this. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were surprised you could hear his hoarse whisper.

“Watch your tone with me. I’m not kidding around.”

“I’m an adult,” you weakly fought back, “I can do what I want.”

“Not in my fuckin’ house you can’t!” he bellowed.

For some reason, it all hit you at once. All the emotions you’d been suppressing since your mother had gotten engaged— all the anger and fear and betrayal and indignation, they came bubbling up before you could stop them.

“I don’t even want to be in your ugly fucking house!” you cried in response. “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you! You’re a fascist and a tyrant and a pig!”

You expected him to get more aggressive but he suddenly stilled. It was the scariest anger, that outwardly-calm type that made your blood go cold.

“Go to your room.”

You didn’t question it, turning to walk away (any excuse to get away from him, right?), but you didn’t expect him to follow you in and shut the door behind the both of you.

You were paralyzed with fear as he stepped past you and sat on your bed. It was sort of strange as you realized you’d never seen him in your room before. He stood out against the somewhat childish decorations, but you were in no mood to appreciate the humor of the situation as he patted his knee.

“Lay across my lap. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He couldn’t possibly be doing what I think he’s doing, could he? you wondered to yourself, but did as he asked. You realized you’d never been so close to him before, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes. He smelled like cologne and booze, although you didn’t think he’d actually had much to drink yet today— at least compared to his normal habits. It was almost worse to think that he wasn’t acting on drunkenness now.

“It’s prob’ly too late for it, but you are in serious need of discipline, young lady.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but your body reacted to it differently than you expected.

His fingers slipped between the top of your skirt and your skin, having to pull pretty hard to get it down due to how tight it was. You bit your lip and hoped he wouldn’t notice your arousal, but as your pussy was exposed, you could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan and you knew you were undeniably wet. You didn’t know why, but you were.

“Count them for me,” he instructed coldly and before you could ask what you were counting, he brought his hand down firmly. You felt his wedding ring in the slap and it made you feel a little sick.

“O-one,” you stammered.

He delivered four more, alternating cheeks, and you tried not to react with visible pain. But as the intensity increased, you realized that not reacting might’ve actually been making it worse. Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when the eighth made your whole body lurch forward from the force.

“Eight!” you squealed, but both of you noticed the way you pushed your hips forward. Unintentional as it may have been, you were trying to rub yourself on his thigh, desperate to be touched where it felt like all the energy of your body had focused. You were sure you’d never been so horny before, and now your clit was nearly throbbing. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

He quickly delivered the final two slaps before grabbing your neck, hoisting you up until you were on your knees before him. He examined your face closely and you tried to keep your lip from shaking.

“You’re worse than I thought,” he hissed. “You are in dire need of a punishment. You should thank me for going so easy on you so far.”

You realized when his grip on your jaw tightened that he was being literal. “Thank you, for going easy on me…”

“Where’d that fire go, huh? Guess you’re all talk,” he laughed.

He roughly shoved his fingers into your mouth, moaning lowly as your tongue rubbed against the pads of his fingers. “This fuckin’ mouth. You just don’t know when to keep it shut, do you? Come on baby, open up. I’ve got a better use for it than your fuckin’ disrespectful attitude.”

He used his free hand to work on his belt right in front of your face, and your eyes went wide.

“Don’t act so surprised sweetheart,” he said with a hint of irritation, “this is exactly what you’re asking for.”

You gasped a bit when his cock was freed from his trousers, springing up and already red at the tip. You’d never seen one this close before and it was intimidating in every way.

“Like what you see? You’re so wet for it,” he purred. You tried to speak but words abandoned you.

It was all a blur as he held your mouth open and shoved his cock inside— it tasted like skin and salt, and the size made your chapped lips crack until you worried they would bleed. His moans were deep and gravelly, making your skin break out into goosebumps as he pumped smoothly into your pliant mouth. He slapped your face a few times, not quite hard but plenty strong enough to make it sting. You winced with each impact, the tears which had welled from your gagging finally falling down and dripping from your chin.

“Suck on it, princess, like a popsicle… fuck yeah, like that,” he groaned, and your mind resisted obeying him but your body was completely at his mercy. “Aw baby, ya look so good chokin’ on my cock. Is that what you were gonna go do in this slutty little outfit you’ve got on?”

You tried to shake your head but he was holding you down, not even giving you a chance to breathe. His protruding stomach rubbed against your forehead when his cock was this deep in your throat, and the disgust and fear somehow made your arousal stronger.

He let you go, finally, and you pulled back with a gasp and a cough. You weren’t given much reprieve, though, as he started to tug at your blouse as well.

“No, wait,” you whimpered, weakly trying to bat his hands away.

“Wait? I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he growled. “Your ma’s a fuckin’ tease, hasn’t touched me since I got her that ugly fuckin’ ring. Let’s hope you learn from her mistakes.”

Your blouse was torn open and tossed aside, leaving you only in the pulled-up skirt and your bra. Reaching up to cover yourself, you were discouraged by the shockingly-gentle brush of his hands.

“Don’t cover yourself, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. His gaze made you feel hot all over, and it wasn’t just because of the summer weather outside. “Nobody ever looked at ya before?”

You shook your head, looking down at the floor. A finger under your chin guided you to look up at him.

“Nobody ever touched ya before?” he pressed, his stare boring into you. You shook your head again. “Fuck,” he whispered, but then he started to smile proudly. “Knew you were a good girl, princess, you just didn’t wanna act like one for some reason. You gonna be good for me now?”

You nodded weakly, swallowing as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Then I’ll be good to you, too,” he promised darkly, a shimmer in his eyes that made you throb between your thighs. “Come get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You almost resisted, but it was your need driving you now, not your mind. You had been waiting too long to let a boy touch you, and now that a man had touched you, you felt all kinds of wrong and yet craved more. Before you had even finished sitting down beside him, he was slipping off your bra and pushing you back onto the quilt.

“Sheriff!” you yelped instinctively, a little disoriented as he started to climb on top of you.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your unexpected appeal to authority. “Wanna know a secret, sweetheart? Wanna know the real reason I said you didn’t have to call me that anymore?” He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your neck when he spoke: “Because it made me so fuckin’ hard when you said it.”

He pressed his cock, still wet with your spit, against your thigh; maybe just for emphasis, a reminder that he was still hard and wasn’t anywhere near done with you.

“What are you gonna do to me…?” you asked weakly, your voice so wavering and broken that you cringed just hearing it.

“Just gonna make you feel good, princess,” he smiled, and before you could ask what that would entail, he was groping your tits in his large, calloused hands. A low groan echoed in his chest, and you tried not to squirm as he teased your nipples between his fingers. They were already hardening from the moment he’d touched you, but somehow it was getting even worse when he played with them, watching your face and surely seeing the shame you wore there.

His hands trailed lower, rubbing your waist, your thighs… you found yourself anticipating that he’d remove your panties, so much so that when he did, you quickly lifted your hips to help him slide them off. You couldn’t believe how easily you were letting him do this to you.

“I can tell how much you want it,” he taunted lowly as the fabric slid down your legs and was tossed to the floor. “I can smell how much you want it.” He growled a little before diving in, licking a thick stripe through your folds and taking a moment right at the end to tickle your clit with his tongue. “So fuckin’ sweet, princess; I knew you would be,” he praised. You were forced to wonder how long he’d been thinking about this.

The noises were beyond obscene and you felt your face burning— but there was a burning in your gut, too, and shooting down your legs. You’d never felt like this before (being a very good girl who never even touched herself), but you knew that if he didn’t stop, you would come. And you really, really wanted to come.

Everytime he put pressure on your clit, your leg quivered involuntarily. It was nearly too much, the sensation so powerful it almost hurt, but he pushed you right to the edge without knocking you off.

“Please,” you found yourself begging before you could stop it, “please, Sheriff—”

“I’m not your Sheriff anymore, sweetheart,” he informed you gruffly, popping up from between your legs with the entire bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, “I’m your daddy now. Go on and beg your daddy to fuck you.”

Eyes shot wide open, you stared back at him in bewilderment. Rage flashed in his eyes, and he snarled as his hand suddenly wrapped around your neck, tightening and choking you.

“You heard me,” he groaned through his teeth. “Beg me. To fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you stammered, hoarsely fighting to speak through the pressure on your throat, “fuck me, please.”

He slammed his cock into you and you nearly screamed. It burned and you instinctively tried to crawl away but, of course, his weight on top of you made it impossible.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. He laid down on top of you entirely then, slipping his arms under your torso and holding you tightly.

Each thrust made you feel like you had reached your limits, as if you couldn’t be stretched further which was probably true. And yet, in spite of it (or worse, because of it), you found yourself moaning and writhing under him, even arching your back to make his movements smoother. He laughed a little as he bit at the shell of your ear.

“You love it, baby,” he moaned, “you love my cock.”

You couldn’t respond, just sob as you clutched at the shirt still on his back, your jaw tight as you tried to bear the pain.

“It’s not always gonna hurt like this,” he promised between heavy breaths, “s’gonna feel good soon. Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, pretty girl.”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure if that meant that this would happen again or not. At the moment, you were incapable of thinking that far ahead, too focused on the way the sting of the stretch was melting away and morphing into such powerful pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight.

He kissed you, and only then did the weight of it hit you. Who he was, what he was doing, what you were doing… it had been distant and vague before, but something about his tongue inside your mouth made you remember that the metal digging into your back was his ring; that the lips on yours were sworn to somebody else— and at that, the one exact person that made this so fundamentally wrong.

Tears welled in your eyes, gentle sobs shaking your chest.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, pulling back and kissing your tears away, “feels good, don’t it? Feels good when daddy fucks you?”

You knew speaking would only make you cry more, so you only nodded your head shamefully.

“That’s my good girl,” he moaned as he fucked you deeper, harder, rougher. Your fingers held onto the back of his neck, running through his hair and pulling him closer. He kept mumbling praises but they fell on deaf ears, pleasure clouding your mind and making every hair on your body stand upright. He didn’t stop as he reached down between your bodies and laid his hand over your stomach, growling with satisfaction at what he found there.

“I can feel me inside ya,” he grinned. “Feel that, sweetheart? Feel how deep I am in your wet little cunt?”

When you didn’t answer, you got a quick slap to the face. “Yes,” you replied quickly, “yes, I— I feel it.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting you there until you nearly screamed. You couldn’t figure out why something so objectively painful only pushed you closer to your peak, making every spot inside you more sensitive, but somehow it did.

“Gonna come, pretty girl? Want daddy to fill you up?” he groaned against your ear, pushing down on your stomach even harder.

“Yes, daddy!” you sobbed. “Please!”

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me,” he hissed, “don’t fuckin’ stop. Keep milkin’ my cock and m’gonna fill ya up so good, princess…”

You couldn’t stop even if you tried— your orgasm hit you in powerful waves, your head falling back as your walls clenched involuntarily (as did your fingers and toes, so hard that your nail tore the sheets a little bit, which you wouldn’t notice until the next day). He grunted as he came, pumping into you with each thrust until you felt more full than you ever had before, in a way you could never describe.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, him catching his breath and you losing yours as his weight threatened to crush you. “Fuck,” he groaned as he sat up and pulled out. He grabbed your legs and held them up for you, staring at your abused pussy and making you feel uncomfortably observed.

“Push it out for me, wanna see my come leak outta ya,” he purred, moaning a little when you did as he asked. It felt even hotter as it gushed out of you, and you mindlessly bit your lip. He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, rezipping them and buckling his belt. “We’d better get ya cleaned up, huh princess?”

The bathroom wasn’t far, so he carried you, setting you down to stand on your own as he started to draw a bath. You watched him, although you weren’t really watching him so much as staring into the void of space that happened to be in his general direction. You were so out of it that you didn’t even register when he turned around and smiled at you with an air of pride.

“You look so good like this.”

It pulled you out of your trance, though you had to ask him to repeat himself with a mumbled “huh?”

“I said you look good like this,” he explained, stepping closer. “Fucked out, braindead, just my empty-headed fucktoy.”

“I… I don’t…” you began to disagree.

He used your jaw to turn your face to the mirror, and you gasped when you saw yourself: your hair was a mess; your whole face was red, especially your eyes and nose from crying, but plenty on your cheeks where he’d slapped you; your lips were swollen and slick; bruises were already forming on your arms where he’d grabbed you, and along your neck and shoulders where he had bitten you.

His form dwarfed yours as he stood behind you, looking at your reflection with a smile.

“Look at us,” he announced wistfully, “one big happy family, huh?”

#lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #dark fic

3K notes · View notes

bingobongobonko · 8 months ago

Text

sorry for talking so much but all things considered not as insane as i felt a few hours ago. its the little shit ig, im rethinking things. the lady yesterday shared to me that she was a jewish convert to islam, meant a lot she was willing to share that. and i saw a lot of kids running around, and with palestine flags and stuff. and the event guy i was in carpool with said i was really helpful. and when i was in the train a lady asked me for directions and i helped her figure that out. and my uber was willing to listen to me talk about palestine, and left me with a very hopeful word before i left. and a guy gave me 2 buck dollars. i told him it was fine i didnt rlly care id still pay for his ticket but he was like really adamant about it. one way ticket 2 miami, he didn't have nuthing on him so i hope hes okay. a guy on the train commented on my really ugly ass shoes and told me he fw it and it made me laugh cuz theyre so silly looking but he was so serious when he said he loved them and told me 2 rep the style and i wa slike. fuck. ur serious.. i do really like these shoes, theyre funny looking. im also vaguely thinking of visiting the mosque on my free time, and when i have more money to get around. idk if non-muslim can enter or participate, i guess im just curious

im usually not a superstituous person but my mom folded these two dollar bucks this guy at the train gave to me, cuz supposedly it brings you good luck and huh. lady gave me a tip today. like im not superstituous but id like to believe the little folded money heart in my bag did a thing

#fool's monologue #ig now i just feel like crying. its rlly not so bad #my brain sucks. its a good world though #im just kinda. guh. im helpful? i helped? you mean it?

4 notes · View notes

sohcah-toa · 3 years ago

Note

Hi hi may i request genshin men (DZKC + thoma and xiao) as call center agents?

I’ve been reading too much angst and I think I’m starting to became like xiao🤞🤞

I need some crack in my life 😹😹

Feel free to ignore this if you have lots of work to do :> your health is priority!!

Stay safe and happy mwahhh!!

sure! and i hope you're doing fine! ♡ stay safe and have a good day/night!! 😙

Genshin Men as call center agents | toa

ft. Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Childe, Thoma and Xiao

w — sfw, hc's, crack, modern au

donate or tip if y'all want to: ko-fi

n — lol i edited some ugly ass pix

extra context: Aether started a company called Smoodeez, its tagline is "It's a mood you can drink" (got the idea from todd in bj horseman lol i love him) and the boys work there as call center agents for extra help. There has been a lot of questions lately.

— #

DILUC

- quiet one, likes to get straight to the point so it can be finished asap

- gets annoyed very easily (when he has energy)

"Do you have a horny drink? My mood right now is horny"

"Yes. We do."

"The name of the drink is horny?"

"Yes. Sir"

"You sure?"

"For the love of Barbatos, Luigi, you've been fucking asking that question for the last seven fucking minutes. The goddamn drink is called horny because it's a fucking mood and our motherfucking store is called SMOODEEZ, it's a goddamn mood you can drink! I'm going to go get myself a fucking angry drink right now because of you!"

"FUCK YOU, 1 STAR!!" — end call

- gets annoyed very easily (when he has no energy)

"I've been telling you for ten minutes already. I WANT THE DRINK HOT"

"SIIIIIIIGHHHHHHHH"

"Excuse me? Did you just say the word sigh?"

"Yes. Also, there are no hot smoothies. Goodbye" — ends call

- hate it when Kaeya and Childe eat food on their desks but he does the exact same thing

- most likely to rage and flip out

ZHONGLI

- earphones only cuz he broke

- he doesn't even know what they are selling, he's only in it for the money

- tries to act like he knows everything when it's the opposite

- is actually a fast learner and a smooth talker

- can get anybody to do anything for him (this is what he thinks. the truth is, it's only childe, his desk buddy, who does things for him)

"I'm feeling kind of thirsty"

"I'm going to go get some water"

—

"What an adorable tanuki teapot"

"Already bought it"

—

"How do you- do this?"

"Here, let me do it for you"

- always say the customers have to sign a contract before ordering

KAEYA

- doesn't even answer calls most of the time

- pretends he's a cop

"Hey, um hi, I just have a question about your delivery services? Do you make deliveries in Inazuma?"

"Sir, this is the Inazuma Police, is something the matter?"

"Police? Oh uh sorry wrong number"

"Be careful next time" — ends call

Aether: "What the fuck, Kaeya?"

- always take breaks, likes to hang out in the bathroom (especially when thoma is in there to tease him)

"What's up, Thoma?"

"Stop staring at my dick, Kaeya"

"Geez. Just comparing is all"

—

"Oh Lord, why are you always here?"

"What? I gotta pee"

"Kaeya, please don't pee on my shoe like last time. That was a new one"

- answer calls just to prank customers

- is a hoe

- if it wasn't for the lack of workers, he's be fired

CHILDE

- doesn't explain anything, just pushes the customers to go and buy it

"I just have to make sure about your business. It seems pretty interesting but also pretty stupid at the same time"

"I'm drinking one right now and I love it, buy it now, the stocks are limited, a lot of people are buying! Hurry! Hurry!"

"O-Ok! I'm on my way!"

- always flirts with zhongli but zhongli doesn't realize this

- only works there because of zhongli, he doesn't even need the money

- speaks to his siblings on the phone most of the time, "sibs unite for an hour" as what he calls it

- actually does his job well

- the business is still standing because he pays for it, so he could work with zhongli

- most likely to pay a customer just so they could stop talking

THOMA

- tries his best but the customers who always call are very specific and mean

- just wants to help everybody but his co-workers are either mean, too inlove or stupid

"Mr. Zhongli, need help in the —"

Childe: "Back off dude, I got this, I got it"

Zhongli: "So aggressive. I apologize Thoma"

—

"Hey, do you need to print something? I'm going to the —"

Xiao: "No, leave me alone. Kaeya said you shit while standing. That's a red flag"

"What the fuck?"

—

"Kaeya, are you spreading rumors about me?"

Kaeya: "Yeah, it's pretty funny"

"Is it because my dick is bigger than yours?"

Kaeya: "... n-no"

"Diluc-"

Diluc: "NO

/sad thoma noises/

- is also their janitor

- #stressed

XIAO

- first call of the day and he already wants to pass away

- the laziest one of them all, he just sleeps

- would rather die than to deal with a karen

- pretends he's working

- almond tofu

"Are your smoodez limited? I mean do you have all the moods in the world?"

"Just buy almond tofu, it's way better"

"I want smoodez"

"Goodbye" — end call

/angry aether coming/

- most likely to curse a customer or make a customer cry

- hates his co-workers, would rather shit himself than to talk to them willingly

- gen z

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact crack #diluc #zhongli #kaeya #childe #thoma #xiao #crack #genshin headcanons

70 notes · View notes

hihellogoodbyebruh · 3 years ago

Text

I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.

Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff

Word count: 2,526

AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo

Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you

The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.

“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.

The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.

“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.

“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.

The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.

“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.

“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.

“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”

“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.

Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.

Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.

“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.

“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.

“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.

I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit

Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.

His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.

The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.

It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.

“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.

She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”

“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.

She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”

“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.

She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”

“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”

“You could have killed him.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”

“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.

He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”

She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.

You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me

Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.

A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.

Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.

“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”

“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.

“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.

“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.

“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.

It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.

“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.

Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”

He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”

“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.

The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”

She was unable to contain her giggles.

I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me

“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.

“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.

“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.

“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.

“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.

I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name

Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.

“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.

“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.

Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.

Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”

Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)

#angel reyes #angel reyes x black!reader #black!reader #plus size reader #angel reyes x black!plus size!reader #hhgbyebruh fics #i know what you're thinking you're on my mind

187 notes · View notes