#the pay is about what I make right now which is kind of insane and really highlights the disparity between biotech and Marine science
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So my position was eliminated during layoffs kind of except not till the end of the year, so I have a bit of time to find something and I've started looking for jobs right.
One keeps popping up about being a marine biologist on trawling boats based out of Alaska for 3 months at a time that I am very much qualified for and Jesus Christ you have no idea how tempting this is. Life on the Bering Sea.
#the pay is about what I make right now which is kind of insane and really highlights the disparity between biotech and Marine science#given how absolutely bonkers dangerous this Marine science gig would be in comparison to cushy bench scientist job 9:00 to 5:00#but by God if I was not so attached to friends and family#I would be on that fucking boat#I could leave it all behind........#msc230
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Commission for @vgilantee
A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning again! And specially for trusting me with an idea to write it as I want, means a lot! <3
Request: fem/afab cat hybrid reader and first time taking werewolf boyfriend’s knot?
Plug you up to shut you up
Werewolf x cat-hybrid fem!reader || dom/sub undertones, phone sex (kinda), edging, orgasm denial, knotting, oral sex
“It won’t fit,” he told you for the thousandth time.
“Yes it will,” you argued, also a for the thousandth time. Your tail moving around in agitation. You weren’t asking much of him, just for his knot. You two had been dating for a few months, you deserved to be stretched and stuffed, didn’t you?
“No it won’t. Stop asking about it, you’ll get hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you.” His worry was adorable and you wanted to hug him about it, but also scratch his face because he was being way too nice about it.
“I won’t get hurt!” You argued again.
“Yes you will, you are tiny and your pussy is just too tight for it to fit.” His voice was exasperated, like he was arguing with a kid, or like he was a dom arguing with his bratty sub… Which was pretty much what was happening right there.
“Pretty please…” You asked, looking up at him, blinking slowly, trying your best innocent look.
“No,” he repeated. But you saw a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips. He was going to agree, you just needed to try a bit harder.
“Pleaaaaaaaaase…” you repeated, pouting. You caressed his chest slowly and acted all coy. He loved when you did that.
He sighed. “Ugh. I hate you.”
You jumped, happily and hugged him around his middle. “No you don’t, you love me so much you are going to stuff me with your knot.”
He grabbed your wrist and kissed you until you were out of breath. When you broke apart, he told you: “Okay, but we need to do some prep first.”
“What kind of prep?” You asked, already suspicious of his intentions.
That’s how you found yourself wearing a plug in the middle of the day. He bought some kind of special plugs that were made exactly for your purpose. There were five of them and you were supposed to change them during the day leading to the knotting. He did a lot of research before buying them and was so serious about it that you couldn’t be mad about it. He was adorable, like a puppy.
He woke you up earlier that morning, knowing he had to go to work, just so he could eat you out and plug you with the first size. It was a bit uncomfortable to move around, but you could deal with it. It was fine. You made breakfast and worked for a bit before he video-called you.
“Hey darling, what do you want?” You asked, busy with your latest drawing. You had a deadline soon and wanted to do as much as possible as fast as possible.
“It’s time for you to change the plug,” he reminded you. There was an edge in his voice, the exact same edge as the one he had when he was ready to push his dick inside of you. Fuck, how was the tone of his voice so fucking hot? Being madly in love with a werewolf was fucking with your brain, you now got wet when he talked. Just talked. Insane, you were going completely insane.
“Yeah, right. Will do,” you answered, not paying too much attention to him as you reached to end the call.
He stopped you. “Hey wait! I want to see.”
You looked back at the phone like he grew a second head. “What?”
“I called so I could see as you change it. I want to see.” His voice was pleading, but demanding. The idea of him calling you just to see your pussy was making you all kinds of hot and bothered, and it was annoying. But you agreed, because it was making you all kinds of hot and bothered. Fuck, you wanted to cum so bad.
You positioned your phone so the frontal camera was looking at your pussy, your face extremely red as you parted your legs. You could hear his intake of breath as you parted your lips and he saw the base of the plug still inside. His grunt of pleasure made you whimper as you pulled the plug out. Your pussy gaped as he groaned.
“Fuck, kitten, look at you. It looks so puffy and swollen for me. You are going to look so pretty wrapped around my knot.” You blushed harder, trying to insert the second size without knocking off the phone. You whimpered again when it made contact with your swollen clit. “Fuck, do that again. Touch your pretty pussy for me, kitten.” His growl was so deep it made you groan. You complied, running the plug up and down your slit and getting it all wet. You were so ready to come you wanted to beg. “That’s enough, kitten. You can’t come, remember? I told you that this morning.” You whimpered, but obeyed. You wanted to be a good kitten. You pushed the plug inside, feeling the stretch but still comfortable with it. “Good job, you are doing perfectly. How does that feel?”
“Go- good.” Your voice broke down when you lowered your leg and the plug pressed against your G-spot. Fuck. This one was going to be harder.
“I will call you later for the next size. Love you, bye!” His cheerful nature annoyed you to no end. He called you, got you all hot and bothered and then had the audacity to forbid you from coming and then hang up on you. Fucking werewolves (affectionately).
It went exactly like that three more times. Each size up was harder and harder to adapt to. You felt so stretched and needy you wanted to grind against every single surface, unable to sit down since size three. You had been standing around, trying to clean but failing. Every time you bent down to pick something, it pressed against your G-spot and you saw stars. When the fifth plug was inside of you, you couldn’t hold it anymore and had to call him.
He picked up at the second ring. “Please… Please come home. I- I need…” You whimpered, unable to keep talking.
“I’m on my way, go strip and wait for me on the bed. Face down, ass up. Be a good kitten for me.” He instructed. You followed his instructions without even processing them. “Don’t hang up on me, talk to me, tell me what you did today.” You could hear him walking around, closing the door to the car. The anticipation was killing you.
You tried to tell him, to distract yourself so you wouldn’t grind onto the bed until you came all over yourself. You told him about your new project, about the art supplies you wanted to get, and he listened and asked questions. Without realizing he arrived home.
You heard the door closing as he hung up the phone and ran to the bedroom. You were exactly how he instructed, face down, ass up. Your tail was going crazy from side to side waiting for him. You felt on the edge of the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt, and he was just standing there.
“Please…” Your plea broke him out of his stupor, tearing off his clothes as he approached the bed.
“Good goddess kitten, you look good enough to eat. Are you ready? Do you still want this? You can say no.” He was always so sweet that you wanted to cry, but at that moment it infuriated you.
“Knot me already!” You cried out, more than ready. You always appreciated when he asked stuff and asked for consent beforehand, but in that moment you were beyond any questioning, you wanted to be filled. You wanted to be stuffed with his knot.
He didn’t comment anymore, he lowered his pants and threw them someplace behind him. You could hear something breaking, but you didn’t care. He slowly but surely took the plug out as you cried out his name, grinding back against air as your gaping pussy dripped with fresh juices. You were so turned on you could cry. Maybe you were crying already. You couldn't feel anything apart from his hand on your hip and the tip of his cock at your entrance.
He didn’t ask anymore. He pushed right in and you groaned, coming instantly around him. Your claws tearing through the bed sheets. He grunted behind you, not stopping. He held your hips secure as your arms went limp under you and you face-planted to the bed. He kept fucking into you and telling you how pretty you looked, how good your pussy felt around his shaft. You came at least twice more before you felt the knot forming.
“Do you want it? Tell me you want my knot, kitten.” His voice was soft and demanding, and it made your insides melt. You loved that stupid werewolf so much you could squeeze him until he disappeared. But right now you needed his knot more than anything.
“Yes. YES. Knot me!” He didn’t wait anymore. He pulled your tail up, making you scream as he pushed his fat knot inside your pussy. Your eyes crossed and your brain turned off. The only thing you could feel was the stretch of his knot and the first shot of his cum deep inside.
“Does that feel good, kitten? Do you like to be so full you can’t even talk?” He chuckled at your blissed out face. “Guess it does, you love it, don’t you?” He rolled his hips and you opened your mouth to say something, but you could only drool in pleasure, too fucked out to even control your saliva. Embarrassing. But so fucking good you could die impaled on his cock and you’d die a happy cat. “If I had known all it took for you to shut up was to fill you to the brim I would have done it sooner.” You tried to argue with him but when you opened your mouth the only thing that you could do was moan as your eyes rolled back into your head. It was insane how big he felt inside of you, how stretched you felt. It was like you were going to break apart, but at the same time, his knot was the only thing keeping you together.
By the time the knot went down, he was still grinding inside of you, your pussy raw and abused. It felt like pain and pleasure mixed in the most excruciating sensation you’d ever felt. As soon as his knot deflated, he was there, tongue and fingers and playing with your used hole. He licked and sucked and made out with your pussy until you were coming again. And then another time. Your body couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you gave up trying.
“I like you like this, limp and fucked out. We should do that again.” His voice was cheerful and animated, and you wanted to scratch his face for being so fucking annoying. But good lord if you didn’t want to be fucked like that again. “I take that groan as a yes,” he said with a laugh.
Ugh, fucking werewolves.
Reminder that you can also commission me, info here.
#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#terato#commission#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft#werecat#werewolf#werewolf x werecat#fem werecat#cat hybrid#x reader#cat hybrid smut
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how people find out you’re dating them
pt2; cyno, diluc, thoma, neuvillette
SUGGESTIVE
Cyno
He probably keeps it a secret for 2 weeks until Candace, Alhaitham and Tighnari sniff it out- literally. But in the end it’s not them who find out it’s you.
His jokes change.
Like, insanely.
There’s no more horrible puns- well, there are sometimes, but his humour starts to change to multiple different types of jokes and Candace is the first to notice.
She has been at his side for YEARS protecting the desert so when she actually laughs at his joke for the first time her heart literally drops from shock because did she actually just laugh!!?!?! At CYNO’S JOKE?!
She brings it up with Alhaitham and Tighnari and even they are surprised and of course because they’re nosy people, they decide to figure it out.
Alhaitham keeps an eye on Cyno whenever he’s in the Akademiya for work. He noticed the way Cyno is always in a rush which before he never was. It’s almost like Cyno has something to do, he thinks.
That’s when he realizes and brings up the idea to them that what if cyno is seeing someone? Tighnari feels a little betrayed knowing they are best friends and that cyno tells him everything but he does slightly agree with the theory.
He agrees with the theory once he smells expensive products on cyno. Cyno used to never once care about his hair or how nice he smelled given the fact he’s in the desert a lot but he smells a lotion on him one day and realizes that 100% Cyno is seeing someone.
They just have no idea who.
One day they’re talking about it in Alhaitham’s office within the Akademiya, and Nahida comes in one day.
“What are you all talking about?” She asks innocently, eyes peering up at all of them as she hops on Alhaitham’s desk to sit on.
“We think cyno is seeing someone.” Alhaitham answered.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh right! Y/N!”
“We don’t kno- wait what?” Candace stares at her shocked.
Nahida just giggled. “He dreams about her a lot.”
They all immediately run out of the office and nahida starts to think maybe she shouldn’t have revealed that.
Diluc
kaeya.
For months now people have noticed that Diluc was taking less time at the bar and was always rushing to get home. He was more talkative and he was even fighting less with Kaeya.
It creeped Kaeya out if we’re being honest here.
So one night you’re hanging out with Kaeya and Venti at the bar while Diluc is working and it’s a pleasant night for you all!
Venti was singing, strumming the lyre! Kaeya was making jokes and Diluc was laughing at them! It was- wait what?
Kaeya doesn’t realize until later that night that Diluc laughed at one of his jokes.
At the end of the night you tell the others you’re going to stay and help Diluc clean up since Charles was off for the night and they pay no attention to it. Kaeya doesn’t either- the only thing he wants is answers.
So one hour after closing, Kaeya bursts into the bar thinking you’d finished helping up Diluc and you were already gone.
But instead he found you bent over the bar, skirt PUSHED up and Diluc right behind you and Kaeya immediately turns back around, knowing his question was already answered.
Of course he immediately tells venti, but not what he saw. He does not want anyone knowing he ever witnessed that even if it was for 0.5 seconds.
Thoma
He starts to deny his help whenever people in the city ask him for something and it’s so shocking that it reaches Ayato through gossip and he HAS to talk to Ayaka about it.
Thoma is an incredible and amazing man; he’s always willing to help out anyone and everyone at every second so of course it’s a shock when he starts denying and is rushing home.
“Is something wrong with him? Is he upset? Is he sick?!” Ayaka has never seen Ayato panic like this about his best friend.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Ayaka giggled. “Maybe he’s just realized that his kindness is taken much advantage of. Personally I think it’s great.”
“Or he has someone to return home to every night.”
Both the siblings yelped and their swords were out in an instant, pointing at whoever snuck into their conversation.
Miko was unphased, putting both her hands on the swords and lowering them. “Apologies, it wasn’t my intention to sneak up but it was surely my intention to eavesdrop.” She grinned.
The weapons were away in an instant and Ayaka started to question. “What do you mean someone to come home to?”
“Have you not noticed his need to rush his duties everyday?” Miko asked, and giggled when both the siblings looked at each other with a “no I have not” face. “Wow; I hardly ever see him and even I know of his current actions! Well, if you two are really so keen on trying to figure out what’s ‘wrong’ with him; he has a lover. A secret one, at that, and it seems as if he just really wants to spend the night with them after a long day of work. I’d assume his lover is Y/N, the one who works for me. You have noticed his frequent trips to the shrine, haven’t you?”
The two siblings just stared at each other in shock before they were both running off in different directions; Ayato to find out any information on who you were and Ayaka running to find Thoma to demand answers.
In truth, Miko just saw the two of you kissing on your break in a hidden spot and you both still had no idea she had seen.
Neuvillette
THOSE DAMN MELUSINES.
They’re adorable; the cutest little things ever and it’s so cute how he takes care of them but you can never trust them with a secret because they will pass it on to EVERYONE.
It’s when they do their usual rotations within the buildings; Guard the doors.
In full honesty it was yours and his fault for being, well, quite loud that even though his desk was far from the doors, the Melusine’s could still hear everything and it was insanely embarrassing but they were immediately talking about it and were shocked when you walked out of his office 2 hours later, pretending it was some random meeting.
The next day, one of them- Sigewinne- comes up to him in his office and he gives her a gentle smile. “Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette!”
“Good morning, Sigewinne. Would you like anything?” He opened one of his drawers which was full of mélusine-appropriate snacks.
Sigewinne shook her head. “No thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette! Thank you for offering! We were wondering if Mademoiselle Y/N was coming today?”
He looked at them confused. “Uhm, I believe she is for another meeting in a few hours. Why?”
“Just so then we’ll know when to give you two privacy, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sigewinne skips away and it takes a few seconds for him to fully process what she meant and becomes mortified.
You’re insanely confused when all the melusines greet you and say hi to you and ask if you want anything when you come in.
#cyno x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#diluc x reader#diluc x y/n#neuvillette x reader#thoma x you#thoma x reader#genshin x y/n#genshin x you
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The Proposal AU! (part one)
Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.
Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader
TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage
W.C: 1.3k words
PARTS: TWO, THREE
Agatha Harkness was a terrible boss. In the five years you had been working as her assistant, you had her schedule memorised, you constantly tried to anticipate her needs, and yet, she could barely remember your name. And that wasn’t the only flaw, oh no. There was the erratic behaviour, her quickness to anger, the fact that she always teetering the line between serious and sarcastic, so you could never quite tell whether she meant what she had said. Which would be your excuse if she attempted to criticise your response time to her latest question.
It's just… there was no way she was being serious… Right?
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that last part, please?” You asked slowly, steadily lowering the file in your hands to pay full attention to Agatha. She was sat at her desk, looking up at you as though you were an idiot. So, like usual.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to get down on one knee.” Agatha scoffed, and when you didn’t respond, quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I’m just having a hard time comprehending what you’re asking of me.” You spluttered out.
She exhaled, clearly irritated. Then leant forwards over the desk and demanded, “Marry me,” punctuating each word with the intensity of her glare.
Under her scrutiny, you could feel your cheeks flushing. She never usually paid this much attention to you unless she needed something, which was rare. But this was too far. It had to be some kind of test surely. Of what, you weren’t sure. Loyalty? Dedication? Insanity?
After a beat of silence, you finally remembered to respond. “You’re insane.” You folded your arms across your chest, still in disbelief that she would ever ask such a thing. You knew Agatha was unpredictable, dramatic, terrifying even, but never could you have imagined her saying such a thing on this unassuming Thursday afternoon. She never brought her personal life into work, and so why she would want to bring her work (aka you) into her home, her bed, well- it was a mystery.
Your cheeks grew redder at the image your mind conjured up. You and the boss, in bed, together.
The silence continued, and you summoned the resolve to look back at Agatha. She was staring up at you expectantly, and you realised that, despite your aghast reaction, she was still awaiting a response.
“No!” You exclaimed, mouth agape.
At this, her red lips stretched back into a malicious grin. “I wasn’t asking, dear.”
Something about her teasing smile and her mildly threatening words flustered you. “Well… you can’t make me.” You responded futilely. You knew she could. This was Agatha Harkness, after all. She could make anyone do anything.
And yet… “No, I can’t.” Agatha conceded with a simple shrug.
This caught you off guard. You frowned down at her, wondering if this was some form of reverse psychology.
“But what I can do is offer something in return.” Agatha winked, and if you weren’t flustered enough before, you certainly were now.
You took a moment to breathe. To calm the way your heart raced in your chest. You recognised the innuendo to her words, but knew the connotations likely lay in more entrepreneurial benefits. A promotion. A raise perhaps. The possibilities were endless, and all of them would help you to pay the rent. Now that, you couldn’t pass up on so easily.
“But why?” You asked, quieter, reluctant to admit to yourself that you were settling into the idea. “Why do you need to marry me?”
“Oh pfft,” Agatha waved a hand dismissively. “Not specifically you. This is nothing personal.”
“Oh great. That makes me feel so much better, thank you.” You snarked.
“Come on, you’re a clever girl.” Agatha narrowed her gaze, that teasing edge so easily returning to her tone. “You can figure it out.”
You paused to think, running through everything you knew about your boss. She lived alone, quite happily so, which ruled out any kind of breakdown. She was about ten years older than you, which meant this probably wasn’t a midlife crisis. But in terms of personal information, that was about all you knew. Agatha was a married to the job kind of woman, constantly in and out of meetings, often the last to leave the office. You had tried to outlast her one evening, but upon seeing the delivery guy arrive with enough food to survive the night, you had given up and headed home.
You pursed your lips thoughtfully, eyes briefly flickering about the office when an idea struck you.
“Earlier today…” You began, speaking cautiously slow. “You had a meeting scheduled with your immigration lawyer.”
“Atta girl.” Agatha leant back in her chair, seemingly satisfied with your answer.
“You’ve been putting off that meeting for weeks,” you continued.
“It didn’t seem important!”
“Well, I’m guessing your visa expired. And you panicked, because being deported would suck, so you lied and said you were engaged.”
“Bingo!” Agatha clapped her hands, as though this were some fun guessing game and not a huge life issue that would turn both your lives upside down. “Being deported would suck, as you so eloquently put it. I would lose my job, so god knows what would happen to you.” She pulled a face of mock concern, pointing a sharp finger in your direction. “And now all I need is some all-American idiot to get me that green card. Simple. Beneficial for us both, really.”
“No. Not simple. Not beneficial for us both.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “For one, with you gone I might actually get a normal boss.”
“And where’s the fun in that?” She quipped. “Plus, me being gone would certainly halt your progression up the ranks- and where would you ever find a better recommendation than from your boss turned wife, huh toots?”
Agatha was talking with such rationality that it was giving you a migraine. You pinched the bridge of your nose in an attempt to soothe it. “Please take a moment to think about this. I mean is it even allowed? The whole employer, employee relationship?”
“Oh, stop with your worrying. I wasn’t the one who hired you.”
“And you really can’t think of anyone else to do this?” You implored, though you were afraid you already knew the answer.
“I admit I didn’t give it much thought, but what’s the problem? You’re not dating anyone, your family are abroad so they won’t get involved in any of it-”
“How do you know all this?” You interrupted, frowning. Clearly your prior assumption that she didn’t give you the time of day was incorrect.
“I’m observant.” She deadpanned. “So, it’s settled, we’ll get married, live apart for a year, then when the immigration office determines I’m not a threat to the country, we’ll get an uncontested divorce with two of the finest lawyers’ money can buy. Breeze it through the law courts and never speak of it again. You get your promotion; I don’t have my whole life uprooted.”
You hummed noncommittally, finding yourself at a loss for words.
“Great, I’m taking that as a yes!” Agatha stood up abruptly, striding past you to grab her coat. “Let’s hit the road!”
“What? Both of us?”
“Of course. You’re my besotted fiancée and we’ve got a immigration officer to chat with!” Agatha nudged open the office door, storming through the building without another word. You simply stood and watched her go, her long navy coat flapping behind her, swishing back and forth with every step. You momentarily entertained the thought that it was a cloak- that she was secretly an evil witch in disguise as your boss.
It was the only reasonable conclusion from what you had just been roped into.
Groaning, you reluctantly followed your soon-to-be wife, trying desperately to ignore the churning anxiety in the pit of your stomach.
NEXT PART
Notes: ok I need to fess up I don't have much of a plan for this fic and uni work is kicking my ass so my time is v limited. But I've always wanted to write something following the vague plot of The Proposal- the film this is based off in case you can't tell.... so, hope you enjoyed :)
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Removing the ability to go directly to a specific reblog is a disastrously bad change! I can no longer engage with it when someone reblogs a post referencing the previous reblog's tags, which is, if you somehow missed it, a very common way people interact with each other on tumblr. I also often end up following new people because my mutuals regularly reblogged from them and they have interesting tag commentary; if I can't click through and look at their tags anymore, I'm not going to naturally find new people to interact with, which seems like the kind of thing that tumblr should want to incentivize rather than actively prevent?
I'm aware that this was not your decision personally, in the sense that you were apparently unaware of it at first, but it's a very bad decision, it makes my user experience of the site much worse, and I am going to use multiple avenues available to me to register a complaint about it in order to emphasize this badness!
Whatever this change is supposed to achieve, do something else to achieve it that doesn't remove the ability to actually look at specific posts.
a lot of changes we make won’t be well received by people who have survived the kinda insane ways this site works as-is. that’s the price we have to pay to help make tumblr a growing platform.
i’m sorry, it sucks, i don’t like it either, i’m also someone who’s been using this site for over 10 years and i’m used to the way it’s been working for most of that time. it’s a challenge for me to accept that tumblr isn’t actually working right now for the vast majority of people, who aren’t as vocal as we are.
please do send in feedback, but try to understand that most of what you’re describing is behavior you learned the hard way, and we can’t keep tumblr around if “the way to effectively use tumblr” is learned the hard way.
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use me… as always enjoy loves <3 (pt. 1)
it had been a long and tiring game. you watched paige the whole time from the crowd, cheering her on but ultimately realizing something was up with her. she was playing exceptionally, which was usual for her, but something about her body language was… off. you couldnt quite place your finger on it. not tired, or annoyed either. either way, it was a long and physically demanding game.
when you meet paige after the game, things are definitely off. instead of pulling her into a big bear hug per usual, paige gave you a quick hug before placing her hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the arena. as your walking out in silence, you speak up. “paige are you okay? you played so well but something seems.. just up” you hope that shes not hiding anything from you. she can always tell you anything.
her body language immediately changes and becomes more closed off and she slightly stiffens at this. she coughs slightly, walking up to the car door and opening it for you. she sighs, “can we just talk- um,” she tiredly runs a hand over her forehead before continuing “yea.. when we get home baby?” you can tell shes burnt out and exhausted from such a long and physically demanding game so you just smile and comply. you know paige didnt mean to act this way after a game, but sometimes she was just too tired to function.
the car ride home was almost silent. you sat in the passenger seat, paiges hand resting on your thigh for the whole drive. you could tell she was being worked to her limits, and her body was paying the price.
as soon as you got to the apartment paige dragged you into the bedroom, slightly shoving you down onto the bed, climbing on-top of you. she watches you as she pushes you down onto the bed, loving how you’re so willing to do whatever she wants. “now… im going to use you like a good girl. you wouldnt mind that, would you?” she says out of nowhere, knowing youll fold under her gaze. she raises her eyebrows slightly waiting for a response, her smirk making your stomach churn. you swallow and shake your head slightly. “i dont mind.. arent you tired baby?” she grins as you say you think shes too tired. she climbs over you, straddling your hips and looking down at you from above. she gently pins your arms down to the bed. “oh I know you’ll enjoy it. you’re going to do whatever i say, right?”
you hesitate for a moment before nodding your head slightly. seeing paige like this, so dominant was something else. she can see the slight hesitation and grins knowing that you’re pushing your limits a bit. she leans down gently running her thumb against your cheek as she speaks gently in your ear. “good girl. its okay if you feel a little nervous, but you’ll do what i say, won’t you?” you look her in the eyes. her eyes arent the same ocean blue they usually are, but instead are a dark icy blue, trapping you under her gaze. “ill do anything” you whisper.
paige grins at your obedience loving how you say that youll do anything. she laughs softly her hands gently tracing up and down your waist. she leans down hovering over you and whispering into your ear. “good girl.. just relax for me. im going to make you feel so good. just be a good girl for me okay” she laughs again loving how you’re so obedient like this. she gently takes both of your wrists into one of her hands pinning them above your head. with her other hand, she gently runs it down the side of your body, going up under your shirt. “so quiet, huh? come on i want to hear your pretty noises…”
you let out a shakey sigh as her hand travels up you waist and goes under your shirt daring to travel upwards. her touch is already driving you insane. paige grins as she watches the reactions you let out to her touch. she slowly moves her hand up feeling the skin of your waist, your ribs, and finally up towards your bra. “oh just wait… ill have you making all kinds of noises by the end of this…” paiges dirty talk elicits a deep whine from the back of your throat. she laughs softly at your response, continuing to travel her hand up under your shirt gently running her cold fingers against the skin exposed from your bra, and stomach. “oh baby… this is only the start. youll take it for me, won’t you?” she grins, loving how weak you sound right now.
you shut your eyes and pulled your button lip between your teeth, nodding your head. “please, no- teasing” you manage to get out between gasps and deep breaths. she smirks, watching you struggle with holding back your reactions to her touch. she loves the way you look with your eyes shut, your lip between your teeth. “oh no no… i’m going to tease you. im going to make you squirm and beg for me…” she moves her hand back down to your waist, tracing her fingertips gently up and down your skin. “please paige, need it now i cant wait” you say, starting to get worked up over this unreleased tension.
she laughs softly, feeling the desperation in your voice as you say that you need it now. she moves her hand up to caress the side of your face, gently running her thumb over your cheek. “needy girl huh? so cute, you’ll have to be more patient baby. beg for it.” her words are cold, and her fingers are moving in slow teasing movements making your brain go fuzzy. “please paige, i need you now” you beg for her, craving her fingers, wanting her inside of you. you slowly rub your thighs together, hoping to create some friction. she watches your body as you squirm, loving how badly you are wanting her. she gently moves her hand up between your legs parting them, and going up to rub on your thighs. “oh I know you need it, but I want to hear you beg for it” she grins, knowing you’re going to crack soon.
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#uconn women’s basketball#wbb#uconn wbb#wcbb#wbb fanfiction#wbb x reader#wbb smut#uconn x reader#paige bueckers fic#paige smut#uconn wcbb#wlw#wlw post#wlw smut#ncaa women’s basketball
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Pomellato Jay giving me brothers bff thoughts😮💨
1:27 a.m.
You all just came home from a party. Jay saw you shivering bc your skimpy little dress was perfect to tease him, but didn’t help with the weather outside. So him, being the sweet gentlemen he is, gave you his black blazer. It covered you completely, and it made you look as if you had nothing beneath it; which was driving Jay insane…
Your phone started to ping next to you:
1:27 a.m - Jay:
- Could you please go change your clothes
1:27 a.m - You:
- why? I feel cozy with your blazer on..
1:29 a.m - Jay:
- That’s not it
- I can’t control myself in front of your brother
1:31 a.m - Jay:
- please baby
- Or go wait for me upstairs
HELPPPPPPPP
i hope you don't mind me changing the text string. wc: 833 ~
1:27 a.m - Jay: you're home now, can i please have my blazer back?
1:27 a.m - You: but whyyyyyy, its so comfy
1:29 a.m - Jay: just....please You glance at him, noting how stiff he appears compared to his usual, relaxed and casual self. Your brother, sitting on the other side of him flipping through some streaming app with a bored sigh. Now, you look down at yourself, back to Jay, back down at yourself, then you curl up on the couch. Smirking a little bit because you're well aware that the blazer rides up, dragging your skirt with it.
1:34 a.m - Jay: fucking stop doing that
1:35 a.m - You: getting excited? 1:35 a.m - Jay: what do you think? You watch him closer, seeing the way he looks at you before glancing towards Jake nervously. "Jake?" You suddenly say, breaking the silence in the room [bc jake still hasn't landed on a fucking show.] "Hm?" He pays no mind, still focused on the tv. "Where is your watch? Weren't you wearing it earlier?" He wasn't. You know he wasn't, but sometimes gaslighting is okay. "Was I?" He says, now sitting up. "Fuck, where did it go?" "I think you left it at Heeseung's place. Might wanna go get it before someone steals it." Jake doesn't even question it, hopping up with a muttered curse under his breath and heading out the door without even looking back at you or his best friend. Silence fills the room, except now...it's loud. "You want me to give you your blazer back?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him with a cheeky smirk. "You know what you're doing." He groans, finally relaxing his body and sinking into the couch. His legs spread out wide when he throws his head back in that same groan, and you can't help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobs through a swallow. "It's been a couple of weeks, you know-" You start, slipping the blazer off of you and making sure the straps of your tank top slide down with it. "Was starting to think you really didn't want me anymore." Jay grimaces. He feels guilty for so many things. One, you're his best friend's sister. Two, he knows if Jake found out, the friendship would sour. Three, he still wants you so fucking bad he could genuinely cum right fucking now if you so much as say his name. After seeing you like that in his clothes, arguably better when you're entirely naked? His kind gesture backfired so goddamn fast. He remembered instantly the last time you were on top of him, missing the feeling of you so badly. The way his blazer fits you now, the way you swim in the fabric, the way you refuse to take it off. He knows you still want him too. And, well, Jake's not here. "You clever little-" He pauses, seeing your bare shoulders as his blazer slides down. Your thighs still bare and exposed from under it. "Fuck." You stand now, fully removing his blazer and revealing the same slutty outfit you wore tonight. Was it to get on his nerves? Yes. Was it to get on his cock? Yes. Jake wasn't too fond of you dressed like this, but who fucking cares about what he thinks anyway? "Just one more time?" You ask now, more innocently. All while rubbing your thighs together and using one hand to slide up your shirt. "We can make it fast." Jay rolls his eyes, the twitch in his pants growing thicker and thicker, to the point he cant help but grab at himself now. Another groan, and his eyes narrow at you. "You want it fast?" He asks now, the same sultry tone you had grown to miss so much. "And hard." You add, throwing yourself back on the couch and making sure your legs are spread. Wide. It's not long before you feel his familiar hands pressing your wrists into the cushions, hovering over you and blatantly pressing himself between your thighs. "You miss it that much?" He asks in a raspy whisper, smirking only slightly at the face you make in response. Only because he's fucked his fist to that same face so many goddamn times. "Mhm." You hum, wiggling a bit under him. "Don't you?" He breaks at that point, releasing one of your wrists and shoving it down his pants, all so he can bury himself into you without fuss. No foreplay, no teasing, no grinding. Just pure penetration. There's a moan from him that fills your ears, one that sounds more desperate than he would normally sound. Just a few weeks ago it was you sounding like that. Whiny, needy. "Fuck, yeah I do." He breathes this time, holding his breath as he does as he promised. Fast. hard. So fast, and so hard, that neither of you hear the door unlocking and Jake prancing in before freezing on the spot. "You motherfucker." ~
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angel and drew while on a ......."break"......
notes: ask and you shall receive! angel lowkey look like a bitch in this + this is kind of long for hcs, but i think u guys like the drama so i really wanted to try and cover most bases. if you want me to clarify or maybe even make a part 2 lmk ! <3
honestly, they’re on “breaks” quite frequently due to angel’s impulsive nature. in the spur of the moment when she’s upset she’ll tell drew “don’t contact me! don’t talk to me! i need time!” and storm off in the car he’s literally paying for. sometimes he’ll try to follow after her, but sometimes if it’s something stupid she’s upset about, he usually just gives her time because he knows she’ll come around.
but when it’s an actual break from one another (because of all the odessa drama), they’re both going through it. angel is sad but is also taking more time to focus on school because she thinks it’s all she really has aside from drew. she isolates herself from almost everyone, besides frat guys she invites over to hopefully fill some void? which void? she’s not sure. she never actually does anything with them, kind of just trying to prove to herself that she can have anyone she wants and she doesn’t need drew. but how is that benefitting literally anyone? again, she’s not sure.
drew doesn’t really isolate when you’re on a break because he does enough of that on normal days. drew tries to spend more time with his friends, specifically his guy friends. he’ll invite them over or go over to their houses. his friends will ask how you guys are doing and drew never ever wants to paint you as a bad person, even when you are on a break for a “pointless” reason, he’ll just lie and say “she’s going through some stuff right now so we’re just kinda taking a break right now, you know?” he’s the sweetest to you, even when you’re not exactly together :((
they both have nights where they really miss each other so they’ll just call each other and ask if they want to see each other, they never say no. it’s kind of an unspoken rule for the both of them; if one calls saying they want to see the other, you can’t say no (but it’s not like they want to say no anyways). it’s so silly because whenever they do this it’s kind of awkward. they’re making small talk because they’re both too stubborn to make it seem like they “care” again. but eventually they both give in and it usually ends in a heavy makeout sesh. “this doesn’t mean we’re back together you know?”
angel is so petty so sometimes she’ll post pictures of her out and about (partying) on her instagram stories and purposefully have guys in her pics because she knows drew will see it. when she realizes that drew seen it but didn’t say anything she’s throwing a fit. but in all honesty, drew doesn’t even care that much. he knows angel’s tactics and knows that she wouldn’t dare do anything.
there’s a lot of late night phone calls where they usually get pretty deep, asking each other if they should just break up for good/a longer period of time. angel is always like “i want this to work drew.” and drew is like “i’m giving you the space you want. what more do you need?” he’s too sweet. angel is so messy though because she knows she has no intentions to break up with drew ever, she just loves causing a scene.
i feel like the worse drew would do when they’re on a break is hang out with one of his girl friends one on one. and while no, there’s no romantic intentions, he still would never tell angel that. he’s just able to decipher platonic and romantic whereas angel’s insane ass is not ………. kind of.
angel is shitposting on every platform she has, especially her finsta and tiktok. sometimes when she’s feeling extra fiesty she’ll even remove drew as a follower just so she can make him “overthink”, but because he’s an old man, he literally do not gaf! half the time it’s just her ranting or talking about her day since she’s used to sharing everything about her day with drew :(
#bookshelf#angel!reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey headcanons#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x female reader
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the idiots you date — x. minghao
roommate!minghao x gn!reader
word count: 1k
genre: fluff but slightly angsty (mention of a past toxic relationship)
“you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you”
“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are.”
minghao’s face bears signs of exhaustion that you’ve learned to recognize months ago. signs which started to appear exactly when he took on this new “big corporate job” as you often call it, simply because you’re not quite sure to understand what it is.
you’ve finished your dinner an hour ago. you used to wait for him to come home, but that was when he wasn’t working overtime most days of the week.
“they needed me to finish some urgent reports, i didn’t really have a choice,” he tells you before you can even ask anything. his tone is like a permanent sigh, but you know it’s not directed towards you.
sat at the kitchen table, you remain silent, fiddling with the rings he took off before washing his hands. the lights are dimmed, making the dark circles under his eyes slightly more prominent.
“how was your date?” he asks as he takes his plate out of the microwave, probably wanting to change the subject. but you doubt he’s still interested in your date anecdotes, especially since this one was your third of the week.
although he comes to sit right next to you, you carefully avoid his eyes when you reply:
“okay, i guess? the guy was nice but had terrible takes on most topics we talked about. well, ‘we’ is kind of a stretch because i was doing most of the talking. i think he was just here to eat good food and make me pay for most of it.”
“so… not okay, then”, minghao corrects you, and the silence that follows speaks louder than any word would have.
you’ve been single for almost a year now, and your last relationship was not exactly a model of good and healthy communication.
living alone after the breakup was a depressing prospect, and minghao was in need of a roommate to avoid letting his job drive him insane: a perfect match for two long-time friends like you two.
there was always a certain closeness between you, but living together has made it more intimate, and consequently harder to ignore... which is why you decided to ask for the help of various dating apps in hope to get minghao out of your head.
“yeah, not okay…” you sigh, mindlessly sliding one of his rings on your finger.
your gaze lands on the painting hung next to the fridge. one of minghao’s, which you insisted should be put up in your apartment; swirls of paint meeting in rosebuds and milky tulips. you can still see where the paint was spread across the canvas by his fingers.
with a tinge of sadness, you realize minghao hasn’t drawn anything in months. his paint-covered clothes were all replaced by dull suits that make him look like the people he used to feel sorry for.
“what time do you start tomorrow?” you ask, pouring him another glass of water.
his lips press into a thin line; you’re not sure whether he’s holding back a sigh of annoyance or just mentally preparing for an answer you’re not going to like.
“7. there’s a meeting i need to prepare for.”
“and when you get to the office at 7, are other employees there? or just you?”
“don’t start,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate to go put it in the dishwasher. “we’ve already discussed this, it’s a dead-end.”
he’s right, this conversation has never ended well. but your eyes keep coming back to that painting, to everything he’s slowly turning his back to. the sadness ebbs away, giving way to a rising anger:
“no, i will start actually,” you state, walking up to him. “you’re unhappy, hao. you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you.”
“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are,” he replies, slamming the dishwasher shut. but his voice sounded more cutting than intended: “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”
there are a thousand words on your lips right now, but few of them would be reasonable to say out loud. meanwhile, minghao is looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.
“but you said it. so now i expect you to either hit me with a miracle solution or kiss me.”
you said it without really thinking, basically shrugging as you know he will never take you seriously. the best outcome would be for him to never speak about your love life ever again.
but his reply makes you instantly freeze: “what if i did both?”
a rush of warmth spreads from the pit of your stomach, radiating through your entire body as his hand comes to meet your cheek, silently asking for confirmation that this is something you want.
your lips crash against his before he can even start to lean in, and the feeling of his skin so close to yours feels so unreal you expect him to push you away any second.
but instead, he matches your eagerness to the point where you’re scared you might lose your balance.
“i hope you like that solution,” he breathes out, leaving one last kiss on your nose.
in that fleeting moment, you reunite with the old minghao, the lively one who makes his own decisions and owns up to his actions. the one you fell in love with years ago.
“absolutely”, you chuckle, your hands meeting behind his neck. “…so i guess i can tell that guy we won’t go on a second date.”
“you better,” he earnestly tells you as he starts to take his black blazer off. “working from 7 to 9 will never be as painful as watching another idiot take you on a date. from now on, i’ll take care of it.”
-> rbs and feedback are always appreciated!
masterlist here!
#i think this is the longest fic i’ve ever poste#d#(so far *wink wink*)#minghao x reader#minghao fluff#minghao imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines
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Been thinking about this a while so as the Shattering Spirits are being rolled back soon here are my thoughts on the Sky Economy. a VERY long post.
Event Spacing (1)
I joined right after Season of Prophecy ended, Season of Dreams was to start in about 3~ weeks? not sure since it was a long while ago.
Later seasons I notice rather than getting up to a month of season downtime, we now get as little as less than a week to break between seasons. Season gaps became slim. Hardly time for off season daily candle quests that make racking up normal candles easier.
On top of this, “Days Of —“ Events became more and more prominent, being mashed on top of Travelling spirits and new off season cosmetics that cost white candles. There’s no room to breathe, its almost a punishment to players who’ve taken breaks from the game after burning out from having to candle run consistently just for new items. Cosmetics that they miss out on get price hikes from their original value in reruns with the new ticket system. It’s a cycle of fomo and it’s what’s killing the playerbase in the first place.
The lack of spacing seems pretentious in a way, since nearly with every update, a new game breaking bug is rolled out, makes it feel ironic since season down gaps have been cut for seemingly no reason.
Ticketing (2)
A while ago TGC added the ticket system denoting inflation in the sky economy, it was made to remedy the fact people can’t keep affording everything with candles.
Yes it did help somewhat, as the tickets are very easy to collect, but with 3 new ftp cosmetics that are bought with these tickets and some things costing up to a weeks worth of tickets it’s easy to have to skip these items because some people just don’t want to do more daily searching on top of the already daily quests from the questgiver.
Returning items not only are insanely expensive but additionally do not equate the energy spent grinding in their original release (The Days of Sunlight towels from last year have no right being that expensive whatsoever.)
Candles (3)
Early 2021, around March the Daily Light “Chevron” was rolled out as a way to farm light without feeling the pressure to grind insanely hard daily (since very many people were asking for a way to get candles more leisurely, since candle running was very time consuming)
It became redundant as the prices for candle items was driven up very far. Not to be so “back in my day” but genuinely the need to candle run extensively in the way we do now wasn’t as big as it is now.
This is funny. Because now I see people asking for the same thing. A faster, less grindy way to candle run.
the first in game event I participated in was the first Days of Bloom, the cherry blossom cape was 70 candles (which to me was VERY expensive at the time). The following year’s wisteria cape cost 105, then the next tulip cape cost 110. The first price driveup was already kind of nuts to me (is the cape really worth a 35 candle mark up to the first one?) It’s hard to even prepare with the aforementioned small event gaps, it’s punishing to newer players and players who’ve skipped events out of burnout without any time to prepare for candles unless you pay real money to get candles quickly.
Assuming an average person clears their chevrons daily (15-17 candles) and heart trades with their friends (-3 for every person traded with) it’s hard to afford everything that comes your way. Travelling spirit prices are near doubling what they used to, items now costing over 100 candles with the inclusion of the batshit expensive nesting shop it really burns people out knowing you can’t afford everything you want in a game you already grind daily in. It’s demanding.
IAP items (4)
Do I even have to talk about this. The Sunlight Chunky sandals cost more than you can buy actual sandals. Why are in game cosmetics costing up to $25 USD. Huh. I could buy a whole meal for that.
Cute little items cost only a dollar before but now they’re like $3 and its kind of bonkers to me. I have to pay $3 whole dollars for a tiny jellyfish on my shoulder. is this not crazy. im not crazy right? dont wanna get deep into this but jesus my wallet
So why do I care so much? (5)
Sky is a game I hold near and dear to my heart. But I notice people including myself have stopped playing for the same, very painful reason. The fact that Sky is very buggy with little to no compensation to players as well as the Economy being so. So very bad. as well as the shithole that was shattering (the hype for that season was so crazy because yay lore!!! no actually Fuck you crab stunlock 100000)
I know people will be “Well you don’t HAVE to buy — item”, but the game’s userbase is driven completely on grinding for new cosmetics. The active playerbase is driven on just candlerunning. The lore is interesting but there’s hardly anything in game to go off of, there’s little to no curiosity for what the game is and it’s story because it gets more and more arbitrary as TGC refuses to talk about it in game. (Jenova Chen saying that games are not an effective storytelling format really pisses me off sorry)
The cycle of fomo that is essentially required to keep the playerbase going just makes me feel like this game is made on popsicle sticks and prayers (thanks aspen for this line). I can’t find myself to love sky in the same way I used to as a moth.
anyways this is really messy. Sorry. but like damn this is kind of a sad thing to me. made this post because a rant on yt got misogynistic in the middle out of nowhere so i wanted to give my own take minus the misogyny
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ㅤㅤ★ㅤA promise — Bakugō
— Bakugō x GN! reader.
You like Katsuki, he likes you — is a fact not a maybe. He doesn't seem to believe it thought.
a/n. I had to keep my promise ig. Is VERY short so im sorry, also Im bad at english and is my first one shot so have some mercy plz.
You were going insane. Just a little bit. Well, actually, you were ready to rip out your hair and scream into the void, standing naked as flames consumed you. That's kind of insane.
Every time Bakugō referred to you as his friend—even if he only said you weren’t that annoying and didn’t mind having you around (which was close enough)—you wanted to disappear.
You had done everything but treat him platonically. Sure, you could see how holding hands, cuddling, or crying together might seem platonic. But kissing in bed and saying “I love you” in a completely serious way?
You were completely lost.
At first, you thought it was a joke, then maybe just a game to him.
But now? Now you’re convinced he’s just... dense.
You could tell Bakugō you love him dead serious while looking him dead in the eyes, on your knees and with a big sign that said 'plz marry me,' and he would still think you're joking.
And it was killing you.
"Are you going to study or what?"
You were in his bedroom, "studying." Yeah, right—studying. You just wanted to be there with him. You’d barged in without warning, and yet, he hadn’t even questioned your presence.
"No."
You knew he liked you back. There was no way he didn't, but fuck, he refused to acknowledge it.
"I like you."
His eyes widen for a second before he looks back at his notes.
"Shut up."
"I really do, tho."
"Yeah, whatever."
"I love you."
"If you don't stop, I will kick you out."
"I love you."
" __________ "
"I love you so much."
"Stop it."
"I want to marry you, one day when we're adults. Small or big wedding, or none at all, whatever you prefer."
"I'm being serious."
"So am I."
You two look at each other, him holding his pen so hard that it looks like it's about to break and you looking at him as if he were the most wonderful and prettiest dense idiot you have seen in your life.
"What do you need me to do to make you believe me?"
He ignores you. Mostly because he knows that paying attention to you would just make him more annoyed (because you clearly weren't going to stop) and because he didn't want to accept it.
"Die."
A small smile comes to your mouth. How many people would get offended by that? A lot, but you knew Bakugō didn't mean it.
"You want to recreate Given now?"
Bakugō rolls his eyes, making more notes in his notebook, but you were able to notice a small smirk.
You had forced him to watch it a couple of months ago, and he swears he didn't cry. You knew the truth, though.
"Shut up."
"Shut me up yourself, you coward."
He lets out another scoff, and he continues to avoid your eyes.
"Study already."
You loved Bakugō Katsuki, and he loved you back.
No matter how much time it would take you, you were going to make sure to take his last name and hold his hand in a not-platonic way.
One day.
"I love you."
I totally didn't use like 3 grammar online correctors, and re read this like 20 times (It will still have an issue, and I know it). I also didn't copy inspired my introduction (?) from a random post.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed my bad writing style. Im not doing this again, unless I get REALLY bored.
521 words.
#mha x reader#bakugo x male reader#bakugou x male reader#bakugo x gender neutral reader#bakugou x gender neutral reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#ftm reader#amab reader#afab reader#gn reader#mha fic#bad writing
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Dads, Dads, and more Dads
I did something I shouldn't have! My buds all bailed on our night out, so I hit the bar and got hammered by myself. Somehow, I ended up blackout drunk in a fortune teller's shop. I remember crying about how much I wanted a fatherly figure in my life. She did this weird ritual to make me feel better. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I know now it wasn't...
"Buddy, get out of bed! Breakfast is ready!"
A pang of guilt empties my stomach. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling with absolutely no urge to eat. It's been two days since that fortune teller put a curse on me, and I have no idea how to live with myself. I obviously can't pretend her little ritual wasn't real anymore.
"Hey, Josh," I nervously answer, stepping into the kitchen to look at my roommate.
"Can't sleep all day, buddy. Eat up!" Josh gives me an endearing smile that sends shivers down my spine.
A few days ago, Josh was a lazy, rude asshole who was only good for paying his part of the rent. We were chill enough roommates, but he only ever talked to me when he wanted a second opinion on girls he saw at the gym. The guy was easily the biggest douchebag in our friend group, always showing off and making someone else the butt of his joke.
Looking at him now, I'd laugh! If only I didn't feel so guilty for his personality's erasure.
"Look at the time! I better get moving. That yard won't maintain itself!" Josh flashes the brand new watch on his wrist. The thing is clunky and old: the kind of wristwatch you'd expect a dad to wear.
"You know we're only renting this place for the semester, right?" I search his expression for any trace of the slimy old Josh, "The landlord is supposed to take care of the yard!"
Josh just chuckles and mutters something about wanting to impress the neighbors. He even has the audacity to reach out and tussle my hair. My face gets hot as a guy, only a month older than myself, treats me like a child.
That curse really screwed up his brain. When Josh found me the morning after, something just broke in him. He immediately jumped to my side and promised to help me nurse my hangover, and it didn't stop there. After he tucked me in for a nap, he drove straight to the mall, buying a whole new wardrobe of cargo shorts and polos. I thought he was just hitting the gym like usual, so when he came back dressed up like the suburban father he hates, I barely even recognized him.
"Have a good day, buddy!"
Josh ignores my protests and plants a big smooch on the back of my head before marching out of the kitchen. It was bad enough my roommate was calling me buddy! Does he really have to kiss me like that too? It makes me uncomfortable to see my scummiest friend infused with such insane paternal instincts, but this is kind of what I asked for. Right?
I slam the back door shut and look at my rusty old bike. Today is already getting on my nerves and I'm not in the mood to peddle all the way to class. Maybe, that guy next door hasn't left for work yet...
"Oh, hey there, Kiddo!"
The deep voice of my neighbor makes me relax a little. I see all six and a half feet of him climb out of the car and stare at me with the same look Josh had on earlier. He's a father of four, but ever since my night out, he looks at me like I'm him his only real son.
"Hey, Mr. Jones," I mumble back.
"Glad I caught you, Kiddo. I was just about to pull out of the driveway," he explains, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "You want a me to drive you to class today?"
I push aside my feelings of guilt and manage a smile, "That'd be great."
Mr. Jones beams back brilliantly. He claps me on the back, which knocks me a bit off balance. Before I know it, he's guiding me into his passenger seat and asking me to hold his briefcase.
"Just let me text work to let them know I'm coming in later than normal," he adds while texting on his flip phone, "How are classes going, kiddo?"
I shrug off the question with a one-word answer. Now that everyone's forced to act like my dad, I get asked about my classes like twenty times a day. My thoughts drift, but Mr. Jones keeps up the conversation, lecturing me about good grades or something. I don't know how a guy who barely knows me can have so many opinions about my academics!
"You know what!" I cut him off just before he starts reminiscing on his own college years, "Just drop me off at this cafe."
Worry lines form on his forehead, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you the whole way?
"No. Just give me some cash."
Mr. Jones gives me a look of disappointment before shimmying his wallet out of his khakis. He counts off forty dollars and hands it over.
"Can I have a little more?" I press quietly.
Look, I know it's wrong to abuse this bizarre new dynamic between us, but I'm a poor college kid! If he doesn't want to give me his money, he can just say no. It's not like I'm holding a gun to his head!
"Sure thing, kiddo," he gives me a dry smile and pulls out a couple more twenties, "Don't spend it all in one place!"
"Ok, bye," I awkwardly announce and hop out.
"Wait!" his husky baritone calls from the car window, "You want a ride home after class?"
"Nope! Just go back to your own life," I yell stiffly. Even though I don't turn to watch him drive off, I hear his car pull away. It's just a car, but it somehow sounds disappointed in me too. I try to swallow the growing lump in my throat and step into the cafe for some much needed coffee...
"Morning, young man. What can I get you?"
The lump in my throat seems to get bigger when I see the waiter. He's a lot hotter of a man than I expected to find in this little cafe.
Already, the way he looks at me is shifting. That curse is transforming whatever thoughts he'd just had in his head. He's feeling more and more protective and responsible for me with every second he looks at me. At this point, I've grown accustomed to the mysterious effect I have on older guys. It's only been a few days, but I've seen so many random dudes go through this psychological transition. It's like they're discovering a new purpose in life: me.
"Uh yeah, I guess a cappuccino would be nice," I mutter with a dry mouth.
"You got it, young man!" he gives me a friendly wink, "Anything else I can get you?"
I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't help myself with this guy, "A hug would be nice! I've been feeling a bit isolated lately..."
The waiter instantly puts his pen and paper down and holds out his arms. His welcoming smile is gone, and a look of genuine concern waits for me, "Come here."
I practically leap into his arms, and he eagerly accepts me, pulling me into his chest like it's where I belong. It feels amazing to be held by this man, even if I don't know him at all. I could stay here all day if he'd let me.
"Seems like you're enjoying the hug," the waiter eventually chuckles into my ear.
For a second, I'm confused, but then I realize I'm fully erect and the waiter can definitely feel it poking into his waist.
"Sorry!" I jump back, searching for any other witnesses.
"Hey, don't be!" he assures me, "It's a completely normal part of life, ok?"
"You're not mad?" my voice comes out more timid than I expected, but I can't help myself. I just accidentally boned up someone who was trying to be nice. What makes it worse, is that he's probably only trying to be nice because of my ridiculous curse.
"Of course not," he affirms, "I can help you take care of it, if that's ok, young man?"
"What do you mean?" My face burns red hot.
"Oh, let me show you," he grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the table, "There's no need to be ashamed of any part of your body! In fact, this part can be a lot of fun."
I'm left speechless as the waiter gives me another fatherly wink, but I can't linger on what he's said. I'm being pulled into the men's restroom. I hear the click of the door locking behind us as he pulls me in front of the mirror, sliding up behind me. I can feel his chest on my back and his thighs against my ass.
If I was hard before, I'm practically bursting now!
"It's time you had the talk, young man," he calmly speaks in my ear like this is a completely normal thing for a waiter to do.
He starts droning on about men, women, sex, and where babies come from, but I'm not listening. I obviously know what sex is, and I think I'm having it right now. His hands slip under my arms and wrap around my waist to unzip my pants. My rock-hard cock bursts out of my jeans the second they're open, and a moan of surprised ecstasy fumbles over my lips just when the waiter gets to his point on male anatomy.
Does the waiter really believe a dad should do this for their sons?
He starts talking me through how to jack off. He must think I've never masturbated before, and I'm sure as hell not telling him that I have! Hearing him narrate every wrist movement, every ball tug, every nipple pinch is just too much fun! Before long, the waiter has me violently shooting on our reflections in the mirror.
"And there you go," he pats me on the back while I stand there stunned. The waiter steps back and looks at me like he's proud of the great life lesson he'd just taught me, "Now you know how to get rid of those boners of yours. Let me go get your coffee started."
I stand in the bathroom, collecting myself, as the waiter finally tends to my coffee order. This dad-curse the fortune teller gave me might be more fun than I originally thought. If I can get one daddy to randomly jack me off, then who knows what else I can do! Rushing out of the bathroom, I already have so many ideas flooding through my head...
"Excuse me, sir!"
"Sorry!" I shout.
In my excitement, I almost crash into the cafe's porter. A little less graceful, and I would have sent every single dish crashing to the floor. Glancing at the face of my would-be victim, I almost moan when I see get a good look at him. I can tell his head is already filling up with the same artificial need to be my father.
"No damage done," he assures me, lingering back to stare at me like I'm some lost puppy.
"Don't you...um...have to bus some tables or something," I breath nervously.
"Oh yeah," he frowns, "Sorry to get in your way."
He shakes his head like he's trying to lose the strange new thoughts in his brain. I stand there frozen like a deer in headlights as he walks away. He glances back at me before turning his attention to a cluttered table.
"Wait!" I yell, "Come back!"
The busboy drops the tub of dirty dishes and rushes back over like his life depends on it. The sight of this worried hunk running back to me makes me hard all over again.
I grab him and pull him into a hug, but his arms quickly take over and support me. Once again, my boner is rock hard and poking into the body of some random guy I just met!
"You have a car?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"You want to drive me around?"
"Of course!" he yanks off his apron and puts a hand on my back.
The waiter comes back around and hands me my coffee, looking at his coworker in utter confusion.
"Cover his shift," I demand, "He's driving me to school."
The waiter nods with an open mouth. He does look completely confused, but there's also a hint of jealousy in his stare. I think he's mad the busser gets to chauffeur me around: poor guy.
The porter doesn't seem bothered to be walking out of his job. He's busy smiling at me like I'm his whole world. I slide into his humble car and tell him where my class is. Before long, he's pulling out of the parking lot and driving me to school. I use our time to get to know him. I'm honestly not all that interested in learning about his life, but I do enjoy watching him talk. It doesn't take a while for us to get to campus, but before I get out I grab his hand and put on my best puppy dog eyes.
"I don't know when you get off work, but I'd love it if you came by my apartment. My roommate is trying to clean it up, but he could really use the help of someone more experienced."
"I love housework!" he just answers, "I'll be there!"
I snicker and slam the car door shut. I might be an hour late, but I'm finally here for class. It's time to give my professor a visit...
"Yeah, I can unbutton my shirt!"
My professor fell under my spell just as fast as the others. He had a look of anger when I walked in; probably from me skipping his class, but that expression quickly warped as he looked at me. Within seconds he was rounding his desk to give me a big old hug. Apparently, he "forgave" me for being so late.
"You like what you see?" he asks, gesturing to his hairy chest, "Trying to check out your old man?"
"You're my old man?" I ask, kind of surprised by the goofy smile on his face.
"Well, no," he bumbles, "But I am a strong male influence in your life! I'm like your dad!"
I nod my head like he's just made a really good point, "Oh. Then you probably want to treat me like your son. Right?"
"Yeah!" he holds his arms out to animate his enthusiasm.
Professor Reid has a reputation for being stiff and demanding in the classroom, so his new personality completely contradicts his true character. The man I know would never smile at a student, let alone bare his chest to them.
"So, I'm off the hook for missing today's class right?"
"Well," he pauses, "Sure."
"Can I skip the rest of the semester?"
"What, no. I want you to have a good education, my boy!"
I creep up to him and place my hands on his hairy torso, feeling the fur and the weight of his body. Professor Reid sure has a lot to hide under all those dress shirts he always wears.
"I'm just so lucky to have a daddy like you," I purr, "A daddy who's willing to do everything he can for me."
My professor grabs my arm and stares into my eyes. With a serious tone, "I am willing to do everything for you, my boy."
"Alright," I smile, "You should give me private lessons then..."
"What a great idea," he's back to grinning like an idiot.
"...and you should always do it in your underwear!"
"I can do that. From now on, I'll be stripped and ready before you come in!" He smiles at me like this is the best decision he's ever made in his life.
"Alright, now pull the rest of your clothes off," I command, "I want to see what the rest of my daddy looks like."
Mr. Reid doesn't hesitate to start stripping in front of his favorite student. I could probably get this guy to do anything now. I can already imagine our private lessons; me lounging in his leather armchair and him on his knees with his mouth full. Maybe that curse isn't a curse at all. Maybe it's actually a gift...
"Hey, buddy! How was class today?"
Josh looks tired from a long day of yardwork, but he still seems excited for me to come home. The lawn looks immaculate compared to our neighbors', and I have my roommate to thank for that.
"The grass looks great, dad."
"Dad! Woah!" Josh yells ecstatically, "Buddy, I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."
Josh sweeps me up in his arms. Apparently, it doesn't bother him to be the father figure of a guy only a few months younger than himself. It doesn't bother me anymore either. I kind of like that he smells like aftershave and bacon now instead of weed and sweat.
"Let's go inside, buddy. I'll cook something up for dinner," Josh says with a hand on my back. I'm already growing so accustomed to being guided around everywhere.
"Actually, I invited a guy to come over," I admit, "He can cook. You should relax. You got a lot of work done today, dad."
"I did, didn't I?" he smiles proudly, "Let me grab a beer, then. We can watch TV."
"Actually, I thought there might be something else you'd enjoy."
"You know me so well, buddy. What are you thinking?"
"You could bend over the couch..."
Josh cringes and shakes his head. Once again, it's like he's fighting the foreign thoughts entering his head.
"...I know how much you like to make me happy, and I really want to pound ass right now."
For a second, a look of horror flashes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. A bright fatherly smile spreads between his cheeks.
"That sounds perfect, buddy. Enjoy yourself."
Josh doesn't look away as he unbuttons his cargo shorts, smiling at me with love and devotion the entire time. He seems completely relaxed as he bends over the couch, and he only seems to become more comfortable as he spreads his cheeks apart.
Once again, I'm rock hard as I stare at one of my dads. This curse might have made me feel guilty before, but Josh said it himself.
I think I will enjoy myself.
Thanks for the ASK, Vebrendos
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HI ITS BARD ANON I MISSED YOU!!! insane request but what about a situation where the party + kabru + chil’s family orchestrate a date between chil and reader? like setting them up… i think that’d be so cuteeee
for the dancing and the dreaming
…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, post-canon spoilers, chilchuck’s wife remains nameless, i love chilchuck's family can you tell
…wc! 1887
…notes! BARD ANON I’M BACK FROM WAR (burnout) !!!! these two requests are similar so i decided to make ‘em a wombo combo!!! enjoy my loves!
The woman gives you a kindly smile as she waves you off, you and her ex leaving the tavern. She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms.
God, Chilchuck is more stupid than she remembered.
How could he possibly miss the affection in your eyes when he called out to you both before you left? Or how you clearly wanted to ask if you can stay with him longer? He’s just going to ignore that and consider it all platonic?
What an idiot. Do I really have to step in for him again? Just like old times, huh…?
The half-foot taps a finger against her cheek in thought. Maybe she can push you to confess? No, you’d probably wave your hands around and insist against having feelings for Chilchuck in the first place. A heavy sigh escapes her.
Looks like she has to do things the old-fashioned way.
Step 1 – Family
The quickest way to alert someone is to see who the people closest to you know. Flertom is rather in-the-know about any gossip. Usually, as a mother, the half-foot really doesn’t want to encourage such things, but for now…
“What’s trendy in dating circles nowadays?” She asks offhandedly, eyeing a bouquet Flertom bought to gift a possible suitor. “Is the man still expected to be the one to initiate everything?”
She could nearly scoff at her own words. Only reason she and Chil got together was pure happenstance. Practically a blur by now. He’d be hopeless at actually trying to start anything with you.
The younger woman hums in curiosity, before stopping to think. “Not really nowadays, no… If you have enough charisma, you can charm any man into taking you out for a drink. Why do you ask, Ma?”
Flertom squints as she watches her mother laugh and shake her head in response. “Oh, I just think your old man might need some… encouragement with a new flame is all.”
Just as she expected, Flertom was immediately on the ball with planning, rushing out to the town in order to visit her sisters and inform them of the operation. She practically commanded her old mother to see if she could look for any clues about Chilchuck’s possible beau. With a knowing smile, she remarks that she’s very happy to pay a visit to Melini.
Step 2 – Friends
“You really think something that elaborate could work?!” Marcille Donato leans forward in her chair. Her eyes shine with a certain kind of joy at the idea of playing Cupid that amuses the matured half-foot significantly.
She nods. “I don’t see anything else coming close to pushing them. Force might be the only way.”
A female tall-man, Falin if recalled correctly, squints and hums, tapping her finger on her chin as she tilts her head. Her brow furrows. “From what I know, Chilchuck seems to be more open, but… I don’t know if he has the courage to be truly vulnerable in front of someone like that.”
“No need to tell me twice,” his ex scoffs.
“Oh!” The king, of all people, seems to have an epiphany. “We could hold some sort of ball, encourage him to invite a plus one. That can work, right Kabru?”
All eyes turn to look at the advisor standing to the side, clearly enjoying the conversation but not wishing to intrude. He startles at the sudden attention, before clearing his throat behind his fist.
“It will take some time to plan, but it could work… You mentioned having three daughters, ma’am, you can take one as a plus-one, and the two will take each other.” He’s calm with his conclusion, which the half-foot woman can definitely respect.
“A banquet of all their favourite foods,” the dwarf Senshi, as food-brained as ever, sighs in daydream.
Kabru takes a step forward. “Though I have to ask,” he enquires, “is it really necessary to call upon all of the king’s advisors and himself for a Cupid scheme?”
Silly boy. He doesn’t yet realise the stakes.
If Chilchuck and you don’t say something soon, then you may stay silent forever. This idea might be the best shot they have.
Step 3 – The Preparation
“What’s even the occasion…?” Chilchuck sighs as he adjusts the sleeves of the formal outfit he’s wearing. He’s definitely unused to something so high-class. Being invited as a guest of honour certainly isn’t doing any favours either.
Not to mention, Laios was stupid enough to not even bestow upon you a guest of honour title! Chilchuck has to go through the means of inviting you as a plus one due to some ‘organisational issues’, as Kabru put it.
What a load of crap.
“I ‘unno!” Puckpatti peeks her head around the corner to look at her father. “Royals just seem to like their balls!”
“This isn’t one of your period romances…” Meijack’s voice rings from the other room too.
You sit with them, talking amongst one another. Flertom’s plus one remains a mystery to you, though she assures you that you’ll meet with her when you get there. You can only assume it’s the girls’ mother but you have no clue why she’s so giggly and secretive about it.
“On the contrary!” Flertom announces. “I think it’s exactly like a period romance. Maybe one of us will be swept into a dance so beguiling, you forget there’s a whole ballroom of people!”
You squeal in surprise when Flertom takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair. You dance together in a fit of giggles. You only barely miss Chilchuck walking out to meet with you all, a fond smile on his face.
Little do you know, he’s thinking about what it would be like if joy like this could be shared in a household with the two of you.
“Come on now, settle. Apparently there’s gonna be a carriage taking us to Melini. I couldn’t fight against the theatrics, according to Marcille…”
“Oh Papa!” Puckpatti sighs blissfully. “We truly are living like nobles now! Maybe you can… ah…”
Both you and Chilchuck spy her eyes darting towards her sisters with unsureness. How strange.
“You can find… someone nice there!”
“No, Patti.” Chilchuck shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m not gonna marry some rich dwarf.”
“You are too cruel, Papa,” Flertom points out with a pout. “No one will want you if you just keep saying no.”
As the three bicker, Meijack spares you a sympathetic glance, and she rolls her eyes. Her sisters hardly know subtlety. Finally she stands up and walks to your side.
“I’m glad you’re here with us,” she says with uncharacteristic softness; she’s similar to her father like that. “Papa has good taste.”
You go red just as much as Chilchuck. For a moment, Flertom and Puckpatti wonder if their less romance-focused sister has some secret charisma she’s been hiding up her sleeve this whole time. It seems to work though, as they chorus their agreements loudly.
“Very good taste!”
“Their formal wear matches yours fashionably well!”
“Just as pretty as Ma too!”
“If not prettier!”
The entire carriage ride to Melini was full of this type of chatter, asking questions about you and Chilchuck’s time together the whole way. A few times you had to clarify that you are only as close as the rest of your old party were close, but were only met with a few smug “mhms” and “sures”.
Chilchuck can only roll his eyes when he gets the chance to comment on it privately with you. “I have no idea what’s up with them.”
“Oh, cheer up!” You laugh softly. “I’m flattered that they like me.”
Chilchuck can’t help but hear your laugh and chuckle along – music to his ears. “...Yeah, I’m glad they like you too.”
“Come on! Ma is here to greet you two!” Flertom’s voice calls out.
The mastermind has been watching you and Chilchuck the whole time you approach. Her expression remains neutral, with the smallest sliver of a smile. Seems like the proximity has been lending itself quite well.
“Well, aren’t you two a pair,” she greets you both. “Ready to take the ball by storm.”
“Your jokes haven’t gotten any better,” Chilchuck replies.
“And you’re still wearing the same shabby suit from sixteen years ago.”
Chilchuck flushes red once again and you can’t help but laugh, patting his shoulder sympathetically as he hooks his arm through yours.
The watching half-foot knowingly grins. Yes, you two are definitely going to take it up a level after tonight.
Step 4 – Profit!
The ball came and went. It goes as typical as the dark-haired half-foot expects. What really is supposed to be a high-class noble event is a mask for foodies, romantics, and those looking for a fun time.
Senshi’s food was as wonderful as promised, and even if this was all done in the name of romance, Flertom and Puckpatti had to be held down from trying to approach the dwarf with lowered eyelids and twirled hair. Chilchuck doesn’t need more heart palpitations than he already did.
She did her best to encourage Chilchuck to drink. She knows better than anyone that his tongue only loosened when he got enough alcohol in him. It hurts just a little, knowing that this is one of the only ways Chilchuck can be open with someone romantically.
The temptation did cross her to ask how Chilchuck views her now, but she stood against it. It’s not the night for that.
By the time the party drew to a close, people were exhausted, drunk, in a food coma, or all of the above. The King had to be dragged over to his quarters, and Marcille had since passed out on Falin’s shoulder, who’s bidding farewell to guests.
The dark-haired half-foot swirls the last of her wine in a glass as she stands outside, making small-talk with the tall-man. It’s not until you stumble out with Chilchuck clinging to the fabric on your hip that she looks up.
“Do you—”
“No need for help!” You reassure her with a grin. “He always seems to get clingy with me when drunk, so I’m kinda used to it at this point!”
Your laughter meets a knowing smile, not knowing exactly what she’s so smug about. “Yes, he seems to really like you.”
“I sure hope he does, considering he’s accepted my request to go on a date with him.”
Falin perks up enough to wake up the elf on her shoulder. “A date?”
The half-foot across from you is stunned into silence. It actually worked. The atmosphere and passion of it all actually egged you both on!
“Congratulations.” You’ve seen more emotion from the dark-haired woman than ever before. Her smile relaxed but her eyes shining, the lines underneath crinkling with happiness. “Treat him well, okay?”
“Of course,” you reply, and you lean forward a little. “Thank you for your help. Kabru couldn’t help but gossip to me.”
You wink and lean up again. Chilchuck at your side whines for your attention and you laugh, walking towards a carriage.
Safe travels were promised, and the dark-haired half-foot turns to the two blonde women.
The elf blinks slowly, red-faced from drink.
“Did we win…?”
The two other women laugh. Stories must be exchanged the next time you all meet – especially on your end of things.
#✮ grimm's fics!#oh man this will be hell to tag#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi imagines#delicious in dungeon imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#delicious in dungeon x reader#chilchuck#chilchuck tims#chilchuck x reader#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuck imagines#chilchuck tims imagines#meijack chils#puckpatti chils#flertom chils#chilchuck's wife#yeah that'll do
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can you assuage my creeping fear about the debate between harris and trump? my brain is like. the media will be salivating over any chance to get the story HARRIS FLUBS THE DEBATE MORE AT 6 unless she's 100% perfect for it. i keep telling myself that she's an incredibly seasoned prosecutor who knows exactly what to do to unravel these sorts of people, she has plenty of time to prepare, he's completely gone over the edge into incoherence most of the time, but i also keep thinking of how, after weeks of her absolutely pile-driving the republican party, the media will be circling for any mistake, mis-step, or imperfection to blow out of proportion to make it seem like she's failing. i guess what i'm afraid of is the other shoe dropping? or the bubble bursting? i'm afraid of this hope?
i was barely aware of obama in 2008, too young to vote and not paying attention, so i don't know how this kind of momentum turned into the juggernaut that got him elected. i know you believe that the same can happen here, how did he take on the predatory press?
Well, first, we need to recognize that the media treatment of the debate WILL be wildly unfair, full stop. If Trump shows up and puts on pants, he will be applauded by the media, because they have the lowest imaginable bar where he is concerned and everything that would have been multiply-disqualifying for any other candidate makes them just shrug and find a way to make excuses for him. So yes, he will literally be congratulated if he shows up on September 10, because that is how the media works. See: three relentless weeks of bullying Biden out of the race after the bad debate, barely mentioning Trump's equally insane diatribes at the same debate, and now, when he's gone full-on demented and is raving about AI-generated crowds at Kamala's events? Nary a peep. Lol.
However, the main narrative that's emerging from the Harris takeover is that voters and the media are miles apart on where they actually see this race going, and without the media's favorite chew toy of Biden's shortcomings, it has become increasingly difficult to avoid focusing on Trump's flaws, even tangentially. See the mainstream media reporters whining constantly that Harris hasn't given them a press conference and congratulating Trump for lying to them nonstop for an hour; they simply have no frame of reference that's remotely useful, because they are so beholden to making Trump look like a normal candidate and focusing on Harris's "flaws" as if they are remotely comparable to his. But at the same time, there has been a far heightened level of pushback on this BS manipulation, and everybody can see through it, precisely because the media and/or the right-wing smear machine has tried this so many times before and their tactics are now completely transparent. Ordinary voters don't give a shit whether Harris WiLl tAkE qUesTioNs fRoM tHe mEdiA; they're too busy flooding her campaign with donations, attending her rallies, signing up for volunteer shifts, and so forth. In fact, the reason the media is trying SO HARD to kill her momentum is because they, like Trump, rely on doing so. The more they try and don't succeed, the more panicked they'll get. We have to prepare for that, and we have to have her back.
That said, we should recall that Harris easily crushed Pence in their debate in 2020, and Pence was actually halfway presentable at it compared to Trump (which is a low bar, but still). The way Trump "wins" is that he just repeats a lot of lies forcefully and over and over, which Biden was ill-prepared to counter because he has a far more deliberate and decisive speaking style (related to stutter/speech difficulties, temperament as a politician, etc). Everything that I have seen from the Harris campaign in terms of communication so far, however, has been the exact kind of clapback that makes Trump look stupid and which shows that they are very attuned to the kind of strategies that work against that nonsensical bullying Gish gallop. Therefore, I have to trust that they have INTENSIVELY studied what went wrong with Biden/Trump in June, and also empowered Kamala to do what she does in her fashion and which has been extremely successful thus far at knocking down Trump's BS. Also, she's just a better and more fluent communicator than Biden, she looks and sounds more energetic, and those stupid aesthetic Vibes are half of the battle when it comes to convincing the public.
Also, we should recognize that Trump looked deeply creepy on stage at the debates with HRC in 2016, and that was when he was downright sane compared to now. He stalked her, he stood behind her, he rolled his eyes, he bullied her, and people noticed that (he subsequently won the election, yes, but if nothing else, 2024 feels nothing like 2016). If he has to stand on stage with a black woman kicking his ass, after his appearance at the NABJ event in Chicago quickly became a touchstone for how badly he fucked it up, he is going to just look BAD, and when that's the case, people will immediately fit it into the existing narrative (that he's scared of Harris and deeply racist and unglued). You can also play your part in making sure it does. At least half of the Bidengate furor came from Democrats melting down and yelling about it afterward, and that led into the knives-out media coverage that spiraled for 3.5 weeks until Biden withdrew. We can, yknow, NOT DO THAT this time!
So: yeah. We have to be aware that yes, the media coverage of the debate will find absolutely every excuse to praise Trump and bash Harris, because that's just baked in. However, we can also understand that there's a wide-and-getting-wider CHASM between how ordinary voters see things right now and how the media is desperate to play it, and the more transparent they get, the more easily we are able to call it out. (See Lawrence O'Donnell's rant the other night.) We are going to have to keep doing that and not let up, but it's not going to go well for Trump either way and it's still an open question as to whether he even shows up after trying SO hard to dodge. It's not out of the question that he'll announce on September 4 that by Harris not showing up to the Fox debate she never agreed to and which exists only in his deluded mind, he doesn't have to do the same on September 10. He is a scared fucking orange chickenshit who KNOWS he's badly outmatched against Harris and whose entire campaign strategy at this point relies on lying low and trying not to make voters remember again how much they hate him, which is already backfiring. And with your help, we can make him MORE scared all the way to prison. Let's do it.
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I am now at a level of obsession with Disco Elysium where I am watching at least a little bit of every playthrough I come across. Last time this happened was with Undertale almost a decade ago. With UT this helped me get a very thorough handle on the way the game was designed and with the subtler bits of player manipulation. DE is not subtle about anything and so instead I'm getting insights into the people playing it, particularly as it spreads beyond the youtube leftist bubble.
The one I'm having the most fun with right now is by this guy named Brady, who is a therapist specializing in addiction. The fun part is not so much his insight into Harry as an addict - again, the game is not subtle - but his absolute discomfort with politics. He refuses to engage with any of the ideological choices, and that makes the game a bit of a bumpy ride for him. It's particularly striking because he's willing to read into everything else that goes on in Harry's brain - he breaks out his Johari windows and his CBT flowcharts and pins the butterfly right to the corkboard - but he shuts down when the game asks him to pick a side.
To extrapolate wildly from one dude's hangups, I think this is just part of the deal with therapy. The aim of a therapist is to make the subject more functional (particularly these days, when if you're lucky insurance will pay for ten sessions, and you better document exactly what worksheets you made your patients fill out) - and being functional means being able to be happy and productive in the society you're currently living in. If I go to a therapist and say I'm bummed out about all the murdering my government is doing they will suggest I stop watching the news, or, if I'm lucky, they'll try to help me figure out why I feel guilt about things I can't control. Delving into the whys and hows of said murdering is actively counterproductive.
This is not to say that therapy is inherently bad, or, like, counterrevolutionary, because making you a more functional person does help with a lot of things, including your ability to help others. It's just a useful thing to keep in mind when therapy and politics bump into each other. I read this paper when I was googling ABA for podcast reasons and it stuck with me. The thesis boils down to: because the world is imperfect and people need skills to live in it we should continue to torture children, and we don't have enough research to conclude that torture could be traumatic. This is on one level reasonable and on one level insane. It depends where you stand, and whether you think "ability to express affection towards parents" is worth that kind of intervention. But the authors wouldn't construe this as a political argument.
Anyway: with all this in mind, I very much recommend reading "The Saint of Bright Doors", which we will be covering on wizards vs lesbians soon.
#disco elysium#the saint of bright doors#in the ways therapy can be helpful category Brady also points out how Harry sees everything in terms of power dynamics#which I never noticed because I also do that. I wonder why??
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not so bad
college!rafe cameron x reader au
— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.
warning(s): nothing much, just rafe and y/n being cuteness, but there is a little bit of a serious talk !! omg rafe being kind ?? this is insane
authors note: this is NOT the end of the series of course. theyre just starting to become friends but obvi theyre gna become lovers with time. am i rushing this ?? idk cs theyve been frenemies since kids n now theyre js officially friends in part 4 like okay u guys move fast. mayb its my fault
three | four | five
you knock upon his door, your heartbeat thudding with each pulse as you anxiously wait outside his dorm. rafe had gotten back to you just hours after you sent him the message about the second tutor session, seeming to be just fine with having to spend more time with you after ignoring each other all week.
it just worries you a little about how this is going to go.
the door opens, revealing the blond boy himself. his tongue is pressed against the side of his mouth as he leans out between the crack in the door. his eyes are right on you, and he strands up straight, pulling the door open completely to let you in.
he’s standing there in some forest green crewneck with a white shirt underneath and some pants. in his hand is a small glass container full of what looks like mac and cheese and what you guess are steak bites with a spoon sticking out of it. he eats so much actual food instead of cafeteria food that you know that he’s gonna get his own place after freshman year and invest mostly in his kitchen for some gourmet shit that reminds him of home and some gym preps. that’s just so rafe.
you’re not surprised though that he doesn’t share any of his food with those in the dorm building with you guys, even just to sell them and make money. even though you know a ton of students would pay and kill to get away from the same rotation of food they’re usually served here. ‘cause it’s not like he needs the extra money anyway. his family’s loaded. so that is so not rafe.
there’s also a small smile on his face when he lets you in, but also like there’s just absolutely no thought behind his eyes. he looks stupid. but you think he looks stupid every time you see him.
you hesitantly step inside, still not completely comfortable in his space. or comfortable at all. it almost feels like your first time inside his dorm again, only with more tension than before everything. a month ago, you didn’t even think that was possible.
“so you’re failing english,” you’re the first to say something. you walk over to his desk like last time and carefully set your ipad on its surface.
“english isn’t for everyone.”
“surprised it isn’t for you after that little showdown in class,” you point out, turning to him.
he shuts the door behind him and locks it, then walks to his bed to sit on the edge, facing you. digging into his mac, he nods, “that was fun by the way.”
you raise an eyebrow at him. what is going on? one moment he’s not even paying you any mind but now he’s able to have a normal conversation with you. even say something kind of nice.
but then, you’ve been the same way in the switch from neglect to willingness.
“show me your notes,” you tell him, and he pushes himself off the edge of the bed to stand and walk to you. you watch him as he approaches his desk, controlling his laptop through his track pad.
he navigates through chrome and opens his documents like last time. he pulls up his most recent notes, which are in a folder with the title being the dates of this past week.
“since our first ever session, i started organizing my notes for class for every lecture per week,” he says, stepping away from the laptop to let you take a look at it. you go to sit in his chair to inspect his new notes, noticing the huge difference in how he takes notes now. “these five have been from this week for this class. so . . .”
as he trails off you can hear him eat spoonfuls and spoonfuls of his food, in which you glance back at him at the sounds of. but your focus is still on the notes, to tutor him.
you’re surprised that he’s gone to no notes to notes at all, let alone organized ones with folders, headings, dates, actual information, the whole shabang. has he been doing this for all of his classes too?
“that’s . . . impressive,” you say honestly, looking back at him. “but i don’t get it. if you’ve been writing down the lecture material then why are you almost failing the class?”
he shrugs, finishing his bite before swallowing it down to speak. “english isn’t for everyone,” he repeats himself, and you raise an eyebrow at his words.
you’re a little lost because literally none of this makes sense. “w— wait, so you . . . you take your english notes for about three weeks and whether or not you absorb the material, you boil it down to: at the end of the day you’ll fail because ‘english isn’t for everyone’? rafe.”
“y/n,” he says.
“why are you even in university?” you ask him, and you see his expression falter when he realizes you’re serious. “i mean like actually. we both left the outer banks to attend here but you’re failing your classes whether you do the work for them or not. it seems like you aren’t even trying. what’s the point?”
“you know, college isn't just about classes,” he tells you, and you cock your head in question. “it’s about the whole experience—making connections, networking, discovering yourself. it’s what i wanted to do from the start. plus, there are plenty of other ways to learn besides sitting in a lecture hall.”
you stare at him in silence. that doesn’t answer your question at all. “okay, but you aren’t learning, period. like lectures apparently go in one ear and out the other,” you say, and rafe only smiles as he looks down at his food, picking at it as he makes his way over to the edge of his bed again.
“i mean isn’t the whole point of college to get an education?” you ask him, your tone skeptical. “seems like a waste of time and money if you're not even going to try to pass all your classes.”
he gives you a knowing look when you mention money, but it’s almost like he doesn’t want to talk about about that. or need to. “to each their own, y/n,” he replies cryptically, and his expression is unreadable. “we all have our reasons for being here.”
a part of you understands where he’s coming from completely, yet another part insists that there’s still a way to balance both. you know he’s capable. he just needs some motivation.
“i think . . . you should have no reason to be failing right now, especially because of your improvement from last time,” you tell him honestly. “you should be making the most out of your already-paid-for classes anyway! you’ve written the work, you’ve been able to pass your exams, you said you needed to study last time i was here, you read a book assigned to the class and were able to debate with me on it. you’re fully capable. you just need a little push maybe.”
he grimaces. “are you gonna spend your time here to teach me how to learn?”
“no.” you shake your head at him, “i’m gonna spend my time here to just motivate you. you’ve spent all your time investing a great amount of energy and effort into your other classes. why not this one? thompson doesn’t need me to tutor you; he just wants me to help you in any way that i can.”
rafe is silent as you spin around in his chair to face him fully.
“we can work on our assignment together if you want,” you offer, but your voice comes out in a mumble, unsure if he’ll take it or feel off about the idea. “i haven’t finished it yet. this way, we can be in each others presence here, but not with me teaching you, but us working together at the same level.”
for once you can see in his face that there’s a little glint in his eyes. and he looks . . . hopeful. he nods. and you feel good about this, in some weird way—just working out things between you and him when for years it’s been nothing but tension. it’s almost like a weight off your back to know that you both are okay with each other enough to be friends. or kind of friends. or tolerate each other.
you twist your body and take his laptop into your hands, then stand from the chair to hand rafe his laptop while simultaneously taking his container from him. you set it down on his desk and cover it up for him.
“prepare for the worst few hours of your life,” you tell him as you pull up your class assignment, and you don’t need to look up to see the smile on rafe’s face. you can tell he’s holding back from it but it’s there. and there’s one on yours too.
after just an hour and a half of discussing, writing, deleting, a lot of questions, yelling, and finally completing all of your english work for the week, you get ready to head back to your dorm. it’s definitely late and rafe mentioned that lorenzo should be coming back soon and will wanna go to sleep right away.
with your ipad tucked underneath your armpit you push rafe’s chair in under his desk, then head for the door. rafe has once again offered you more water like before but this time the offer came with snacks from the whole drawer that rafe had organized in his bedspace. that guy has great taste in snacks.
“thanks for helping me out by the way,” rafe mumbles under his breath as he treads behind you, walking you out. you open the door and look back at him, in which his hand finds the door above your head. “you didn’t have to do it a second time but you did. i really, uh . . . i really appreciate it.”
“literally no problem at all,” you say as he pulls out some cash from his back pocket like he prepared it for you. you raise your eyebrows. “no it’s fine. i didn’t even tutor you today. you can keep it.”
“you still took time out of your day and helped me out so unfortunately it does,” he insists, then slaps the money in your palm.
you roll your eyes, stuffing it in your pocket as you turn around to leave.
“hey wait,” he says, reaching out to stop you but pulling away before he could make contact. he’s a little anxious as he goes to scratch his temple, closing one of his eyes as he thinks about it for a second. you stop and wait patiently, curious. “sorry for being so weird the other day,” he starts to say, but you’re already waving your hand to tell him it’s okay.
“rafe really, it’s oka—”
“it’s not,” he cuts you off, and you’re silenced from the look on his face. he looks almost defeated, or rather disappointed in himself. he can’t even look at you like he’s embarrassed of what he’s said and done.
he takes a moment to build the courage to communicate his thoughts, and eventually he knows exactly what to say.
“i was just having a rough day ‘cause i was just overwhelmed,” he says. you furrow your eyebrows, wondering what he means. it seems personal that you step back inside his room and shut the door behind you.
“then when i saw you here with enzo, it didn’t even cross my mind to think that you were actually here for me. since i wasn’t even in the room, i thought ‘why would she just be here?’ . . . it was just a lot of fresh feelings and everything was setting me off, including that. and i’m . . . i’m sorry, it shouldn’t have happened,”
“and i’m sorry for ignoring you for a week too. i thought we were just back to how things have always been, and to be honest, that made me upset too. ‘cause you’re really cool to be around. i guess.”
you frown at him. “i think you’re pretty cool too,” you tell him. “even though you piss me off. it feels kind of nice being able to talk to you like we’re . . .”
“friends,” he finishes for you, and you nod. he’s smiling. “that whole feud just to become friends after two hours of tutoring huh?”
your smile turns into a laugh as you nod. you had the same thought. “maybe it just means that since we became friends so easily, we were meant to become that in the first place instead of whatever we were,” you suggest, and rafe grins at you. your smile fades slowly as you stare up at him, “so friends?”
“whatever,” he says with his grin still, and he goes to shake your hand on it. you chuckle, pulling away from the handshake to push his chest, and you head for the door again. “i’ll see you?” he asks, following you again.
“i’ll see you,” you say as you walk down toward your dorm. when you take out your key, you look to the side and see rafe’s head peeking out from his door. he’s beaming, his smile open with his tongue pressed to the side. “goodnight,” you say, unlocking your door as you head inside.
“goodnight,” you can hear him respond as you shut the door behind you, and you spot aria sleeping in her bed already.
you place your ipad on your desk and approach your dresser to retrieve some new clothes. you plan on heading to the showers really quick to get ready for bed.
as you collect your clothes, towels, and shower caddy, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. you slip out of your room to head for the showers, swiping up on your screen to see what’s going on. it’s a message from rafe.
‘ ik u just left like 15 minutes ago but my friends and i wanna go see this new coffee shop tmw and they play live music. just wanted to know if u would wanna come? ’
before you can reply, he sends another message:
‘ totally fine if not idk what our boundaries are ’
‘ u would like elara and lorenzo. they’re really cool ’
‘ i’ll pay for your coffee ’
you jump at the opportunity to reply back instantly.
‘ i’ll see u there !! ’
@svnsetcrve @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @lalalalala33 @darkcolorexpert @babyflockaaaa @lifeofleasaasa @ilyrafe @mkiverd @wxn-drlst
#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#drew#drew starkey#drew starkey concept#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#— ✃ not so bad
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