#the quality of some of these? questionable
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deepdreamnights · 12 hours ago
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A shorter sum-up that may correct some of the inevitable misunderstandings from the rather loose use of the term "scrape."
A guy making low-rent audiobooks downloaded a huge chunk of AO3 content for his robots to read, in the precise same way creepypasta youtubers have been operating for years.
That's it, that's the whole deal.
Generally in AI conversations it means to harvest and process training data. Whereas here it's being used in the older, pre-AI term, of grabbing a bunch of data from an un-or-under-protected website via bot.
Which yeah, it's scummy, but it's analogue scummy, and well in keeping with a number of common copyright misconceptions. I can't tell you how many idiots I've met that thought fanworks had no IP protections because they were violations of the corporate owners' IP.
But this?
**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation.
That's not how any of this works.
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The OP is acting as though this is all being done through a single, automated system, and it isn't. Even the idea that this is Weitzman's AI is silly, as he's likely using off the shelf services. This scam is too petty to justify the cost of anything custom in either time or cash.
Here's what's actually going down, in all likelihood, on the pirate's side of things:
He figured out the most popular works via simple metrics and got a bog-standard website downloader go to work on it or he spent a night right-clicking.
The resulting files for the fics were loaded into word or some similar program and a macro was used to automatically fix formatting for the autoreader.
He ran each fic through an autoreader, and posted those like any other .mp3 file.
Meanwhile, he gave Chat GPT the story link and said "Summarize this and give me a cover prompt"
He takes the cover prompts and runs them in Midjourney with some standard formatting cues.
Now, what isn't happening at any stage in this process is processing the work into a dataset.
Generative AI systems do not continually harvest and incorporation information given to them by end users.
This is outside of their capabilities with a few specific exceptions ( Some AI services log user interaction for later processing into a training dataset, but that is a separate process, and Chat-GPT has features to webcrawl specific sources of "Trustworthy information" but in those cases its functioning as a search engine.) But incorporating data into the training dataset requires crunching the whole set of weights.
Even if one developed a generative AI system that could actively harvest and learn information, you wouldn't want to let it. Unfiltered junk data degrades dataset quality very quickly and is an open invitation to disruptive overfitting through users being generally repetitive. It's okay for more than half your users to generate pictures of dogs or cats playing in the clouds, but you don't want that to be half your dataset.
The situation being, the disagreeable aspects of this scenario are all forms of analogue jackassery, people have been swiping fiction off the net and turning it into shitty autoreader autobooks for long before generative AI came around.
The only difference here is the quality of the robot voice and the thumbnail art.
And as to worries about AO3's stories being scraped for AI training, well, AO3 is part of the generally indexed internet-
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-the chicken is already in the nugget. ChatGPT gobbled it up ages ago, and Google and Bing had done so before that as part of their search indexing.
Now, every AO3 author who is upset is well within their rights to be so. Their work was pirated in a non-transformative way, and this guy's mistake was setting up with completed ebooks rather than hawking a "I will autoread any webpage" app.
But there is a certain irony to the real panic being that the work might have been turned into a dataset for the creation of new works when that panic comes from fanwork creators. If dataset training is theft then so are fanworks.
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SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).
I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.
IN SHORT
Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.
When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 
his dyslexia; 
his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 
a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,
as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.
When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 
THE TAKEAWAYS
1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 
2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 
3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 
THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)
Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):
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This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)
I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:
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Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.
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I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 
I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.
After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.
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While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:
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And then I went to bed.
By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:
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@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.
That response came only an hour or so later: 
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Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.
I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.
A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)
A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.
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Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.
Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :
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Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):
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which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)
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... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)
After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 
It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:
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And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.
That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:
They were completed works;
They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and
They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.
If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!
I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.
I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.
Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***
That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.
Sooo—
We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 
This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:
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Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.
Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.
THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):
*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 
**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 
***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.
Again, please, please PLEASE reblog this post instead of the one I sent originally. All the information is here, and it's driving me nuts to see the old ones are still passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.
Thank you all so much.
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sunderwight · 3 days ago
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Luo Binghe needs to make better friends with Shang Qinghua, because Shang Qinghua's the one person who would know how to get Shen Qingqiu to top Binghe in bed.
Like if Binghe ever got to the friendliness level of actually bemoaning the situation, Shang Qinghua would be like, oh yah no problem leave it to daddy I got this for you. And then he'd go visit Shen Qingqiu and be all, so how's the sex life going?
After Shen Qingqiu finished yelling at him for asking the question, he'd of course provide some details -- which Shang Qinghua would translate out of Cucumber-ese into Normal Person Speak for concepts like "I'm a huge size queen so I'm really enjoying that WMD you gave your protagonist" and "I haven't figured it out yet but I really need to start using a better quality of lube" and etc, until there was an opening for him to get in the question of, has Shen Qingqiu topped Luo Binghe yet? Has he plumbed the depths of his heavenly love cave?
Which would probably inspire a two minute rant about the euphemism before Shen Qingqiu is finally like, of course I haven't topped, are you insane, I would never besmirch the dignity of an alpha male like that!
Shang Qinghua nods and hums thoughtfully and delivers the critical strike:
"Yeah, I guess he isn't really pretty enough to bottom."
Shen Qingqiu's expression goes through several different flavors of emotion before settling on "outrage". What the fuck, Airplane? Not pretty enough? Who gave him that face? What is that face if not "pretty"? Maybe some more advanced versions of the same concept, but that's the only case you could make, the case that it's actually "beautiful" or "gorgeous" or something because "pretty" is just too inadequate to describe it! You'd dare imply Binghe is ugly?! Is it crack that you're smoking?
Shang Qinghua just shrugs and goes well no the face department is probably not bad for that kind of thing, it's really more the body that's unsuitable. All those muscles and all, who wants to see those kinds of curves underneath them? And that ass. Totally inadequate for the job. He doesn't really blame Cucumber-bro for finding the whole prospect too unpleasant to contemplate! (Says man who regularly tops Mobei Jun, but it's not like Shen Qingqiu has figured that out, man's firmly stuck on yaoi tropes that say Airplane always bottoms because he's shorter.)
This, of course, inspires a fifteen minute rant on why Luo Binghe's ass is the most attractive ass ever, and all Shang Qinghua has to do is imply that if that were actually true, Shen Qingqiu would have had his husband bent over a bench at least once by now. And he's done it. This conversation can now only end with Shen Qingqiu storming off in a fit of righteous fury to go grab his husband and prove his point by bridal-carrying him into the bedroom and not coming back out until he's won the argument by ravishing Luo Binghe beyond a doubt.
Shen Qingqiu would be halfway through smugly informing Shang Qinghua that Binghe was the best lay ever the next day before it would even occur to him that he'd been had.
But Luo Binghe's too bad at making friends to ever unlock this feature, I think.
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johnbrand · 3 days ago
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Laundry Mishap
“Hey dude,” Blake greeted, closing the door and locking it behind him.
Aaron did not bother looking up from his phone, “Sup.”
Blake’s lips began to curl as he entered the apartment, spotting his roommate on the massive chair.
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“Who you textin’, bro?”
“Trying to pick up Kenzie,” Aaron responded. “But she’s hesitatin’ for some reason.” 
Blake picked up on the dull quality of his roommate’s voice, the vocal fry even stronger with Aaron was only half paying attention to their conversation. Blake took this opportunity to continue analyzing his roommate.
“Did you already hit the gym today?” Blake questioned, knowing Aaron had never once considered working out in his life.
“Just for a coupl’a hours this morning, yeah.” Aaron casually stretched out his legs a bit, as if to emphasize his point. They were long, hairy, and thick with muscle. Blake could not help but admire his roommate’s calves and the juicy thighs spilling out of the tight short shorts. “Worked the quads and hammies, even got some glutes action.”
The bubble butt Aaron was currently cushioned on confirmed this. Due to the oversized hoodie his roommate was currently wearing, Blake could not visually discern if the upper body matched the lower. “I thought you typically did ab days on Fridays?”
Aaron shrugged, one of his hands slinking away from his phone and down to his pouch. “Yeah but some of the machines were just too full.” Aaron casually palmed himself before continuing. “Buncha fags kept gettin’ in the way with their sissy routines.”
Blake was a bit surprised by the sudden homophobic remark. And by his roommate’s continual groping, as if it was reinforcing the new bigoted mindset. But it did not bother Blake; rather it made him even more excited. He did not have a problem with gay people, but the remarks were confirming that Aaron was no longer the derpy Discord homo that Blake had left in the apartment just eight hours earlier.
“...Bro?” Aaron had finally looked up from his phone, a smidge of disgust smearing across his perfect model-like face.
Blake immediately made eye contact, not realizing that he had lost himself staring at his roommate’s awakening cock. “Did Kenzie get back to you yet?” Blake tried to redirect the conversation, hoping his roommate would now be dumb enough to forget the harmless mistake.
Aaron peered down at his phone, simple glee replacing his former frown. “Ah dude she did!” Blake’s own smile returned, the test of his roommate’s lowered intelligence successful. “God hope she gets ready soon, I’m so boned up right now for some reason…”
With Aaron once again distracted, Blake stealthily eyed his accomplice with a knowing nod of gratitude, as if they had been along together for the ride like partners in crime. Being inanimate objects, the white Nike crew socks did not reply back, but their presence on his roommate’s feet were enough of a confirmation for Blake. Their thick terry material and ribbed arch bands perfectly wrapped Aaron's soles. 
Just hours earlier, the socks would have been at least three or four sizes too large for Aaron. In fact all the clothing Aaron was currently wearing would have swamped his former puny frame, nor would it have identified as a part of his personal style. Aaron’s former closet consisted of graphic tees, cargo shorts, and mismatched accessories. And by every Thursday, Aaron’s laundry hamper consisted of these same articles too, ready to be washed the next morning. All Blake had to do was “accidentally” drop in a pair of his sweaty, used socks; the simple “laundry mishap” would do the rest.
Blake would never know what had truly happened to the former Aaron, but he could at least imagine. In his mind, Blake envisioned Aaron preparing his laundry, then proceeding to find the funky gift, then getting boned up over the smell of a straight man’s feet and feeling the urge to try them on, and finally the magic happening. It was an exciting fantasy to conceptualize.
“Alright bro, she’s coming over in 10 for a quickie.” Aaron quickly stood up. Before, his roommate's sightline had reached Blake’s neck, but now they were able to make direct eye. “After that, wanna play a few rounds of COD?”
Blake grinned, his fantasy having become reality. “Sure thing, bro.”
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 days ago
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Christmas Bells
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Pairing: Dark Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: It’s your first Christmas with Bakugo and he makes sure it’s memorable. 
WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Implied Noncon/Abuse; Minor violence. 
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 Merry Christmas!
--
There’s a knock on the bathroom door, your name being called less than a moment later. 
“One minute!”
Suffocating back the sobs that insist on freeing themselves, your fingers desperately reach to wipe away the warm, sad tears that refuse to stop. You sniff, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the gross snot that clings to your nose. 
Looking in the mirror for a quick check turns out to be a mistake. Deep under eyes circles, runny nose, red puffy eyes - you look awful.
Even more when you compare your ugly crying face with the red and yellow soft cotton Christmas pajamas you’ve been coerced into wearing, the one Bakugo is matching.  
Couple pajamas, he had grumbled when giving you the box. Because it’s your first ever Christmas together and he wants it to be memorable. Special. 
Special for him yet a nightmare for you. 
The last couple days have been hell. Bakugo’s been unbearable to deal with, having taken a week off of the hero duty just so he can spend quality time with you. You fervently wish he hadn’t.
Every moment spent by his side makes you uneasy and anxious, constantly walking on egg-shells as you await for the bomb that Bakugo is to set off.
Truth be told, you don’t want to spend time with him. You simply want nothing to do with him. He has a special way to become abhorrently overwhelming. 
Forced to play house with a delusional Pro-Hero isn’t what you want. 
You don’t want to wake bunched up in the suffocating embrace of his arms as his thick cock forces itself inside you.
You don’t want to set up the Christmas tree with him, pretending to care every time he asks you where do you want each fucking shiny ornament to be.
You don’t want him to kiss you like you’re his everything - like you’re a happy loving couple that has just assembled their first Christmas tree together.
You don’t want to play the role of a diligent girlfriend that peels off vegetables, sets up the dining table and washes the dishes and yet you do all of these tasks, knowing otherwise you’ll receive nothing but a nasty backhand and a speech on being a ungrateful brat, something that will sour both of your moods for the rest of the day. 
You don’t want to-
There’s a harder knock on the door. 
“Hey, you died in there or what?” 
Tilting your face up, your eyes lock into the ceiling at the same time as you take in a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves. You’re so tired, so fucking exhausted. Can’t even spend five fucking minutes without the asshole hunting you down. 
Knowing you have less than 60 seconds till Bakugo gets angry or worried enough to break down the bathroom door, something you’d like to avoid given it’s the only door in the apartment that has a lock, you reluctantly drag your feet to the door. 
Bakugo pushes the door forward as soon as you turn the lock open, entering the bathroom as he takes a good look at you, fixing his glare at your red eyes, still moist from your latest crying session. 
“What took you so damn long?” his question resembles an accusation, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for whatever proof of an imaginary escape plan or so. 
“Nothing, was just washing my hands.” you lie, offering a placating smile. Bakugo nods, although distrust is still evident in his face but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is that suspicion is like a second nature to him.
Perhaps you deserve it but now, after almost 7 months after your last failed escape attempt, you’d think you’d been able to earn some trust. 
“C’mon, let’s go.” 
His hand reaches for yours, hot and firm as he always is, and you follow his lead as he takes you back to the living room. Confusion rattles your mind and you look up at Bakugo as he makes you settle on the couch by his side. 
“Hum…” you hesitate, lips parting as the blonde man lays his heavy arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, “...I thought-” 
“Huh?” he doesn’t bother looking at you, busy fumbling with the TV’s remote control. He skips movie after movie till he finally settles at one of the Home Alone movies. A Christmas classic, you think. 
“I mean, isn’t it past bedtime?” A glance towards the digital watch on the wall reveals it’s  five minutes till bedtime. Surprising and shocking at the same time, as never once did he let you - or him - to stay up till this late. “I thought the curfew was nine thirty?” 
“Will you shut up and just watch the damn movie?” he snaps. You seal your lips tight after that, face immediately whipped to the front to stare at the cinematic 34-foot TV although you pay little attention to it. 
Awkward silence reigns as you watch the movie.
Nostalgia hits you hard as the movie carries on, your mind wandering through old dusty memories. You as a child, watching this exact movie curled in between your parents, laughing your ass off at the on-screen shenanigans. Simpler and happier times.
A dull pain stabs your heart at the thought of your family. How are they coping with the fact that their daughter went missing so many months ago, not even a single clue to her case. 
A part of you wonders how Christmas is going to be celebrated back in your home country, if your mom is planning to leave a sock for you in the fireplace, as she always has or if your dad is finally gonna buy that gift you had not to subtly begged for Christmas all those months ago…
Your nails dig deep into the back of your hand, a microscopic attempt to keep the tears from spilling as your eyes begin to burn. You can’t fucking cry - you reprimand yourself - if you cry, Bakugo is gonna be upset. If Bakugo gets upset, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. And you don’t want that. 
“It’s Christmas.” his deep voice breaks out the silence, so random and unexpected you’re not even sure he said anything. He keeps his face straight forward, locked into the screen, even as you’re under the impression that he’s paying as much attention to the movie as you are. 
Bakugo sighs, finally looking at you and you don’t like how his red eyes pierce right through you, leaving you helpless and naked under his gaze. Like he can read every single emotion that boils inside you.
“It’s Christmas.” he repeats, voice softening. “First Christmas together, I mean.” 
“Yeah.” you stiffly reply. 
“Besides, we gotta wait till midnight so you can open your gifts.” he adds, pointing a finger towards the lit up Christmas tree, where some packages wrapped in red paper lay by its base.
A side of you feels curious about them, but another part warns you that nothing good ever comes with Bakugo. When did he ever give you something that is free of restrictions? 
“I didn’t get you anything.” 
“Huh?” 
“I don’t have a gift for you.” you explain. 
It’s a silly statement, although evident. You spend all day caged in his heavily-secured apartment with no way of leaving, no matter how much you’ve asked for it, and the few online shopping you’re allowed to do is on Bakugo’s laptop with the blonde man hunched over your shoulder, eagle-eyes following every purchase of yours. 
Bakugo shrugs off his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered. 
Lacking the strength to further keep up with the pointless conversation you leave it at that. After a few minutes, the film fails to maintain your interest and soon you start drifting into a calm slumber, eyes drowsily slipping closed and barely aware of when Bakugo re-positions you so that your head lays onto the comfortable muscle of his bicep. 
Just a small nap, you sleepily think… 
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“Hey, wake the hell up.” 
There’s an annoying tug at your arm. 
“Wake up, it’s time.” 
“Hm?”
Opening your eyes proves to be a difficult task with your eyelids awfully heavy. You yawn, sleep coating your features. 
Bakugo is no longer sitting by your side, but is bent in front of you, occupying all of your vision field. 
“It’s Christmas, already.” 
That certainly catches your attention, hands pushing against the couch to leverage you into a standing position. 
“Oh.” 
The clock marks exactly midnight and you stare at it, empty-minded. For a moment, you believe none of this is real, that you’ve imagined everything.
Any moment now, your family is going to start cheering and hugging you, felicitations and merry christmas’s being thrown around while everyone exchanges their gifts. 
Instead, reality hits you like a brick thrown to your face in the form of Bakugo’s squeezing hug, your face being pressed against his toned chest. 
“C’mon, let’s open your gifts.” he drags you to the tree, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs crossed as he pulls you into his lap, heavy arms immediately caging you in. 
“Start with that one.” Bakugo nudges a box with a rectangular shape to your way. 
It’s a bit heavy but as soon as your fingers reach for it, you immediately figure out it’s a book. 
As you unwrap the paper from the book, Bakugo squirms and pushes you a bit backwards, so your back meets his brawny chest.  
The cover of the book shows him - well, Dynamight portrayed in a comic artstyle.
“Dynamight’s Explosive Adventures” 
“It’s a comic book. Part of the new merch.” he slowly says. "Hasn't been released yet, and I warned the jerk editor that it can’t be published until my girl gives it her approval.”
You are surprised to learn how much Bakugo cared about your approval and opinion. A pleasant surprise and warmth rises to your cheeks. 
“That’s… really sweet.” you comment as Bakugo gives your neck a small peck. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he brushes it off, “Just make sure to read that quickly.”
“Okay.” you almost sing the word out. You hesitate for a moment. “Thanks.”
The atmosphere feels strangely lighter, happier. It’s silly to feel like this when it’s something so small, so insignificant.
Still, you can’t stop the little smile that tugs the corners of your lips as you open the remaining presents: a shiny golden hand bracelet that Katsuki immediately fastens it down your wrist, a lip oil collection that you vaguely remember being on your wishlist. 
All of them are just nice presents and you wonder if you were being a bit too dramatic about it earlier. 
Reaching for the last one, Bakugo practically throws the small box into your hands, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing obnoxiously heavy in your ears but you don’t dare to complain.
His arms tighten around your waist for a moment and you wonder if he’s nervous about this one. 
You receive your answer soon enough, heart dropping to your stomach as soon as you open the velvet black box, revealing an elegant ring inside.
A diamond encrusted ring band, to be exact. A engagement ring. 
No. 
Oh God, please no.
All of your jovial carefree behavior vanishes into thin air as Bakugo takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your annular finger and you wince when he pushes it down with a brutish strength until the overly small ring finally sits at the base of your finger. 
“Mrs. Bakugo Katsuki.” you can practically hear a satisfied grin behind those words.
That's all it takes for the dam that's inside your eyes to burst into miserable pitiful tears. From behind you, Bakugo growls - all traces of relaxation now gone - replaced by anger as he violently tugs your arm behind, forcing your body to face him.  
“No. No fucking tears.” his tone is harsh, and he takes it upon himself to swipe his big thumbs against your cheeks, cleaning up the endless fountain of water that your eyes have become.
Your hands weakly attempt to push him away, never meeting success in putting distance between your bodies as he immediately clutches your wrists. 
“I…Bakugo, I don’t want to-”
His lips capture your wobbling ones into a fervent, boiling kiss. His palm is large enough to cover the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away from the kiss. You’re trapped under his powerful strength, as you always have. You’re so stupid for fooling yourself into something that was never the reality. 
He kisses you with all of his ravenous, destructive passion until you’re nothing more than a limp body, until all signs of pathetic rebellion have left your body but not your mind. Your throat dries when his burning lips move to suck little spots on the sensitive skin of your neck, too many sharp teeth involved.
Your whole body itching to squirm away from him but somehow you manage to stay as immobile as a statue. You can only cry your eyes out. You’re weak, you’re pathetic, you’re-
“You asked ‘bout my gift, right?” his voice booms in your ear and you yelp as Bakugo pushes you down to the floor, crawling on top of you like the dangerous predator he is. His calloused hands already reaching for your pajama pants.
“You can fucking give it to me in nine months.” 
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chrissieshauntedbones · 3 hours ago
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This is not the slightest bit true.
Maybe for some corporate offices / corporate based retail chains & the like where you are just a number, then MAYBE this could be true... but in today's world, this doesn't seem to hold up, or, it at least hasn't been my experience.
I have worked in some form of management role between three different jobs over the course of 7 years prior to the car crash I had been in, back in 2023. When I had interviewed for each position prior to getting them, I had been my genuine and authentic self.
For context, I was an assistant manager, then was promoted to a store manager, and managed two different store locations for a retail CORPORATE store. I was, however, being underpaid, so I had requested a review and raise, and though my review went spectacularly, they could not offer me the pay I wanted, and I left to work in a Doctor's office. I got weekends off and had great health insurance, and the latest I would be home would be 7pm most nights vs 9pm, so it was a no brainer to leave.
When I worked in the Doctors office, I climbed the chain fast, and went from a front desk worker, to a site supervisor, before being promoted to the front desk manager for all SIX locations. A few months later COVID hit, and I lost a lot of my staff. I HAD to work, I couldn't afford to stay home... So, I got worn down real fast, and wound up butting heads with the practice admin. She was honestly awful. There was no way I could come to any sort of compromise with this woman, so, when I received a job offer from a friend, I left to work in a construction based field doing office work...
After 5 months in my most recent job i had been promoted to the office manager/service manager, then was relieved of the service manager position, but was given the sales manager title that way my skills could be better utilized.
In every role I applied for, I had been honest, polite, attentive, and I asked questions. I didn't try to pretend to be anything I wasnt, and wound up getting the jobs.
In these management positions, I was responsible for interviewing, hiring, and training new staff members, as well as doing my own job duties, which usually went hand in hand with whatever my team was responsible for.
In every field I had been working in, when I went to interview someone, depending on the role I was hiring for (receptionist, cashier, scheduler, customer service rep, etc) the criteria obviously changed slightly to fit the role, but overall, I looked for people who had experience with the position I was looking to fill, and I looked for people who could show an overall level of basic competency.
I also always looked for:
Empathy
Compassion
Kindness
Responsibility
A sense of humor!!!
The ability to work under pressure
The ability to work as a group or on their own
The ability to ask questions (you would not believe how often people are afraid to ask questions about all sorts of things in fear of being judged)
The ability to take constructive criticism as well as give constructive criticism
I actually called prior employers to confirm employment dates, and would just ask how they were overall. I never asked for specifics. Just how they were seen in their role, and if they had any issues that needed coaching, or caused write ups (it would not be held against the applicant, just so that way I could understand a separation from the previous job better).
I almost always hired people based off of their personalities, and their eagerness & willingness to work (as long as the experience was there).
I worked with my employees, and constantly trained, offered help and support, and did what I could for them.
I would always want someone to be honest with me at an interview, because spewing information at me isn't going to prove your ability to do a job or work with a team... It's just going to prove that you can read, which I suppose is important, but there are far more important qualities people have which make them valuable employees.
remember that interviews are not about giving a good and honest first impression that they'll carefully consider. interviews are about saying the special words and phrases they're looking for that give you points and when they tally those up whoever earned the most job points wins
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kurooh · 8 hours ago
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❆ SLEIGH RIDE !
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KINKMAS 2024 — christmas choking + suguru geto
❆ desc. your first time on a sleigh being pulled by curses is supposed to remain on the ground, but you quickly find yourself above ground and atop something else. ready to become a member of the mile high club?
❆ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, cunnilingus, choking, sex in the air, some asphyxiation, gojo cameo, creampie, fluff. | 3.9k words
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geto suguru has never been on a sleigh. 
he has never seen one in action or outside of a television screen. hell, he didn’t even know the difference between sleighs and sleds! until you convinced him to hunt down a few reindeer-like curses and fix up an old sleigh from a yard sale.
the thing was a shell of itself, with red paint flaking off all sides and creaking loudly each time it was pushed so much as an inch. when you worked together tirelessly to restore the sleigh so it could be a neat lawn decoration, you’d pitched a brilliant idea to him — why not absorb some suitable curses to pull the sleigh around?
fractions of the waning sunlight shine on the fluffy snow and highlight the new quality of the sleigh’s red paint. wispy curses gallop ahead, pulling the sleigh steadily, and snow crunches beneath their hooves. their bodies are tangled with green loops of rope, a cursed tool that attaches them to the sleigh and acts as a harness.
this is sweet, like the candy canes that suguru loves in the winter and the smell of the candles you’re planning to give him for christmas. you look ahead, silently savoring his company and the idyllic scene. it’s like you’ve just jumped into a photo on pinterest—you’ve got the clothes, sleigh, surroundings, and man to boot.
“my girl looks so pretty when she’s smiling,” suguru says softly, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “let me guess, is it the sleigh ride? or me?”
the gentle jingling of the sleigh bells grows distant as you turn toward him with a laugh, catching his eyes. “both. the scenery is beautiful, and so are you.”
he sticks out his tongue, rolling his eyes dramatically. “bleh, beautiful? really?”
“fine. handsome, sexy, attractive, delicious,” with each word, you lean an inch closer until your lips are so close and yet so far apart. your breath warms the small space between you and gets his heart picking up its pace. “is that better, sugu?”
“definitely, sweetheart,” suguru replies, cheeks heating up despite the cold air. “are you gonna kiss me or do i have to make the first move, like always?”
“oh, i was just teasing you,” you titter, pulling back the moment his fingertips ghost along your cheek. he throws you an offended glance, tipping his head up and jutting his chin out. “don’t look at me like that, you do this to me all the time.”
suguru shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes ahead and focused on the reindeer-ish curses. a plethora of colors paints the sky as the sun disappears beyond the horizon, the temporary dawn illuminating the backs of the curses and emphasizing the shadows on the snow. a small bump in the otherwise smooth ride is just the beginning—a moment later, there seems to be a sudden choppiness that bucks you nearly a foot up off the bench. 
it seems like the runners have gotten caught on something, making the curses stumble off kilter. the sleigh swerves to the side and so do you with a startled gasp, right into suguru’s awaiting arms (and lap). he steals a kiss to your cheek, and the chaste action sends a ripple of heat through your body.
“seems like there’s been some turbulence,” suguru comments, his voice low near your ear.
“oh,” you flounder for something to say instead of moving off his lap, at a loss for words now that the little tease has been flipped on its head. “i wasn’t holding on, and the curses, they—they probably tripped.”
“they look fine to me,” he whispers, nodding towards the recovered curses in question. it’s as if they’d never stumbled in the first place. “it’s not like you tried to stop yourself.”
instead of coming up with some annoying, sly answer, you’re busy being consumed by suguru’s heated gaze. the desire is painfully obvious in those pretty eyes of his, and in those explorative touches along your back that make you shiver. he’s got his hands beneath your fluffy winter coat and on your skin, his fingers heating you up much faster than the downy material. 
“give me that kiss,” he almost demands, a pleading edge to his voice. “i caught you, didn’t i?”
at first, your lips meet gently—a soft touch that makes the world around you disappear. to encourage you closer, suguru’s hand lightly cradles your face, the pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your jaw. for a moment, the kiss is full of something tender and sweet, but then something shifts into place and it deepens.
your breath catches in your throat as his lips move against yours urgently, right before he slips his tongue between your parted lips. your hands can’t help but seek purchase in his neatly bound hair, fingers pulling the dark tresses from their hold and tugging. he groans into your mouth, his cock hardening in his pants; the close proximity instills a sweltering heat inside you that radiates through your clothing and pools into your panties. 
the once frigid air now crackles with a certain electricity; he’s hot and hard beneath you, which is something that melts your inhibitions away like snow near a fireplace. are you actually about to cast away the cuteness of a sleigh ride in favor of something utterly filthy? yes, you are — and you don’t regret it one bit. clearly, suguru doesn’t either, not with the way he’s impatiently shifting you around on his lap.
“move your hips f’me, baby,” he grunts, nose bumping into yours when he comes up for air, his hands settling on each side of your waist. “show me how much you want this cock, hm?”
“o-okay,” you pant, chasing after his lips while you roll your hips onto him. god, you’re already soaking wet, just from weakly humping his clothed cock. whiny moans pour from your lips and he hushes you with endless kisses, along with a splayed hand at the small of your back, which guides you whenever you start to slow down.
the curses race onwards, and there’s a little more turbulence before there’s nothing at all. literally, nothing at all—confused, you crack open an eye, movements pausing as you take in your surroundings. just like magic, the sleigh is rising off the ground and being pulled into the dark sky. 
you’re trembling on suguru’s lap, half startled and half turned on. only he could have this effect on you, making you drip wetter with excitement at the prospect of flying into the clouds. the hand that was once resting on the small of your back now pushes into your skin insistently, and suguru’s acting as though you’re still on the ground, completely unfazed.
“why’d you stop, sweetheart? is something the matter?” the corners of his lips curl into a mischievous smile as he protectively hugs you closer. 
“we’re in the sky,” you swallow slowly, fingers absentmindedly toying with the metal button of his pants. silky, sable tresses blow in the air like thick ribbons behind him, and the comforting scent of his shampoo wafts into your face. “did you tell them to—what the hell even happened?”
suguru clasps your hands together with his own, helping you undo the button. he’s unbothered as he works the zipper down before moving onto what you’re wearing. “i suppose they brought us up here on their own,” he lifts you off of his lap, ignoring the small scream that tears from your throat. instead of letting you slip and fall out of the sleigh, suguru sits you down on the bench and sinks to his knees. 
dark pupils dilate against amethyst irises, his heavy gaze fixed on what’s between your thighs. yes, his favorite christmas gift; suguru could probably pass as santa claus, with how often he eats a certain cookie...
you’re trembling as suguru slowly peels the thin panties away from your wet cunt, his eyes hungrily following the glossy strings of slick that move with the material. brisk wind rushes into your face, and your eyes flutter shut in an attempt to resist the discomfort. 
“hey, it’s cold up here,” you complain, letting him pull your hips up to his face. you’re like putty in his hands and effortlessly giving in to him—suguru notices, and he’s ready to reward you. “my nose is—shit,” you gasp, breath catching in your throat when his tongue flicks through your sticky folds. 
“your nose is cold, honey?” he supplies, finishing your sentence for you while buried between your splayed legs. “tuck your face into your coat.”
all too soon, you’re reduced to a dumb, babbling mess—but this is what always happens when suguru’s between your thighs, eating your pussy like he’s been starving for days. that silky tongue of his roughly pushes into you, and his eyes dart up to yours in a silent command. 
use me, that look reads, and who are you to defy him?
with a breathless moan, you brace yourself with a hand in his hair and the other planted on the bench. “mmm, fuuck—was this what you’d been planning since we got into this thing?”
“maybe,” suguru murmurs coyly, smacking his lips before taking your clit between them. his cold, slick fingers nudge against your hot pussy when he slides them inside. the dichotomy between the temperatures makes your eyes roll back into your skull as you weakly thrust against his face. 
above the thin clouds, you’re only able to see the bright moon and the dimmed lights of the city beneath. you shakily inhale, surprised by the lack of oxygen this high up; each breath is more elusive the harder you pant, and it makes your head spin in a way that compliments suguru’s ministrations.
the tip of his nose brushes against your pelvic bone and he finds that he has trouble breathing too. he quickly forgets about the whole thing once he spits onto your clit, watching the shimmery glob trail down your slit and onto his fingers. your chest heaves in effort and you close your eyes, pushing suguru’s head deeper.
“mmmph, baby,” he moans wetly, grasping with his free hand to pull your body closer. “y-you’re always so fuckin’ hot, shit.”
oh, that’s right. it’s freezing up in the sky, but suguru’s like a match, keeping your fire stoked and fueling his own. 
your head weakly rests against the backing of the bench, lips parting around countless moans of ah’s and ooh’s. suguru’s shoulders shake as he devours you, the wind blowing his hair onto your thighs or against your tummy. it tickles, and because of the sensitivity, it’s also extremely stimulating—your hips jerk forward, clit throbbing between his lips.
as your cunt sporadically clenches around his relentless fingers, you feel your back arching up and off the bench, thighs squeezing tightly around his head. 
“h-hey, sugu,” you whimper breathlessly, “god, fuckkk—gonna cum, ‘m so close,” that unadulterated desperation in your voice sparks something inside him, something that compels him to yank you forward so he can really dive in. 
suguru’s smacking and licking sloppily at your overstimulated cunt, pushing you right off the edge and carrying you through the fall. a euphoric cry tears from your throat as you shudder uncontrollably, panting out clouds into the air. when you finally release him, his face is a complete mess—rosy cheeks glossy with wetness, nose and mouth smeared with sticky cream. 
and his eyes—they’re sparkling like he’s just opened the best christmas gift ever, some kind of horny joy shining in his violet irises. 
“s-shit,” you exhale, drunk on him as much as he is you, “we need to go down a ‘lil, can’t breathe.”
suguru lets out a small laugh at your slurred words, wiping a hand across his face while the curses start to gallop downwards at a slow pace. he sidles up beside you on the bench, making no move to pull your pants up for you. 
“that’s not fair,” you shiver, blindly rifling around for your panties if they haven’t fallen out of the sleigh. “y-you’ve still got all your clothes on.”
he tugs you toward him, effectively halting your search for the panties. “sweetheart, i’m nowhere near finished with you.”
“yeah?” you snark, teeth chattering, “gonna even the playing field and strip down too?”
“already taken care of,” he hums, pulling you into his lap. suguru’s boxers and pants are bunched at his knees and you’re mere inches away from his cock. damn, he must’ve done all that while you were talking to him.. again and again, he proves he’s great with his fingers.
“be a good girl ‘n sit down on it,” he huffs, an arm wrapped around you while he holds his cock upright by the base. with the moon behind you as your only source of light, though dim, you can see the thick outline of his length and even the veins that run along it. it’s always a stretch with him, and you sniffle out a whine as you slowly sink down.
“what a greedy fucking pussy,” suguru bites out, watching as it swallows inch after inch of his cock. once he finally bottoms out inside you, tip flush against your cervix, you’re both groaning, although he’s much louder than you.
“god, you’re just the gift that keeps on giving.”
you clumsily paw at his shoulders, mewling when he gifts your bare ass with a smack. it already stings, and the cool air immediately rushes over the skin, providing a few extra licks of pain. suguru lightly nips at your neck, tongue flicking behind your earlobe.
“ride it, sweetheart. don’t make me have to help you out, ‘kay?”
you nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip. he’s so damn deep, filling you up and stretching you out all at once. slowly, you raise your hips and steady yourself; then you’re starting to bounce on his cock, feeling each punchy thrust right into your cervix. 
“sugu—oooh! f-fuck, ngh,” you’re breathing hard and sucking up the thin air, sweat beading on your forehead as you exert yourself. no longer are the sleigh bells jingling softly; instead, they’re rattling against the wood because of the high speed. but with his cock inside you, making your tummy bulge just a little, you’re unable to fully comprehend the fact that you’re racing through the sky. 
sable tresses drape over the edge of the bench, tangling in the blowing wind and flying into your faces. suguru’s gasping, and his flushed lips are kissing away the drool that seeps from the corner of your lips. 
he feels amazing, but it’s nearly impossible to fight off the exhaustion that settles in your limbs and prepares to stay. the once loud smacks of skin against skin and wet squelches begin to diminish quickly as you wilt against him, head hanging over his shoulder tiredly.
“‘m sorry, sugu,” you cry, feeling the tingling sparks of euphoria dissipating inside you, “i really—oh, i can’t keep going . . need you to make us cum, sugu.”
gingerly, he plants a kiss to your neck and chuckles, grabbing at your ass like freshly made dough. “thought i said i wouldn’t,” he grouses, although he’s not entirely upset. “who’s gonna control the curses, hmm?”
“we’ll be fine,” you mumble, sliding your cold hands up beneath his coat and shirt. “just for a minute or two. you started it, so finish it.”
“oooh, aren’t you sassy,” suguru clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes before wrapping a light hand around your throat. his fingers don’t dig too hard into the sides of your neck and you’re a little thankful since the air’s so thin up here. “if we start plummeting, it’s your turn.”
“stop it,” you huff, eyelids fluttering shut when he finally sets his hand onto your hip and starts to move you. god, he’s balls deep and groaning your name, along with various curses and praises. wet squelches and sticky smacks of skin on skin fill the air—the utterly nasty sounds have you squeezing hard around him.
his grip tightens on your neck and he grits his teeth, feeling the beginning sparks of pure bliss. it’s no use when he’s inside you, but he tries to fight it off any way, cheeks splotching a darker pink. “ngh, shit. i need to—hah—feel you cum with me, all over my cock.”
all too quickly, your hand wanders between your legs, and you gasp out clouds of breath when your fingers find your swollen clit. through the haze, you’re able to notice the new course of the sleigh—you’re racing downwards, much like a car on a rollercoaster.
your stomach flips and you start to sob out his name, enamored by the exhilarating rush of it all. “s-sugu, fuckkk—‘m gonna cum.”
“yeah?” he pants, gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises. you feel him adjust you to the side, giving his cock deeper access at another angle. “you better cum hard for me, sweetheart. we’re not getting off this damn sleigh ‘til you’re crying.”
as if on cue, a few horny tears gather in your eyes, but they don’t splash down your cheeks just yet. you hiccup out his favorite words, eyes rolling back into your skull. “yes, r-right there! fuck, ‘m cumming,” suguru interprets this as permission to finally cum too, and his mouth falls open, cock spurting white into you.
in your boots, your toes curl as your cunt squeezes him impossibly deeper, the both of you temporarily oblivious to the bumpy sleigh. the city lights are suddenly becoming clear, and suguru regains control of the curses, his energy flaring as he commands them to fly back up.
“heh, that was close,” he lets out a shaky exhale and releases his grip on your neck, pulling you into his chest. the winter coats swish quietly as they come into contact with one another, and suguru feels a persistent buzzing at his side. “you were supposed to take control if that happened. lazy girl.”
“if you were asphyxiating like i was, i think you’d also be tired,” you sigh, shivering as suguru notices a persistent buzzing at his side. in a pathetic attempt to prevent him from picking up and answering, you mischievously start to shift on his lap again. but really, who the hell is calling him right now and why is there still reception this high up?
that inevitable sensitivity creeps up on him and makes him shudder as he pulls out his phone, clumsily swiping to answer on a very familiar caller id. his shaky thumb misses the green button and he bites his lip, stiffening when you press your lips to the shell of  his ear.
“aw, don’t answer it,” you murmur, voice smooth and easily convincing. oh, he’s quick to notice the dazed, blissed out look in your half lidded eyes and the sultry implication in your next words. “c’mon, sugu. you’ll ruin all the fun.”
but it’s too late. letting out a resigned sigh, suguru shakes his head and finally answers the phone. with a precarious glance tossed your way, he hoarsely speaks up. “hello? satoru?”
“took you long enough, suguru,” gojo’s cheerful voice rings through the phone, confident and unbothered. “what’s going on up there? i can feel your cursed energy going haywire. it’s all over the damn sky.”
he freezes immediately, fingers cautiously digging into the plush skin of your hips. you offer him an innocent shrug, adjusting on his cock once more; heat flares in his gut and he flounders for words. “satoru, it’s . . nothing important. it’s just the rainbow dragon flying around, heh.” shameless delight has your heart kicking in your ribcage when your ears catch the unusual tightness in his voice.
“nothing important?” gojo laughs, the smirk obvious in his voice. “you’re causing a storm over the city. and come on! you haven’t summoned that one in years.”
suguru’s face twists into a grimace and he desperately tries to stay quiet against the quickening pace of your rocking hips. he hopes that the awkwardness will be enough of a hint and dissolve into the goodbye he’s been dying for since picking up the phone.
“it’s coming down in waves.” gojo laughs at the silence, pausing briefly to look up into the sky. it takes him a moment, but he’s able to push past the choking plumes of suguru’s cursed energy to pinpoint yours. “oh, wait. holddd up, suguru.”
“huh? look, i’ve gotta go, satoru,” he nearly stumbles over his words, “i’m busy with some new curses.”
“don’t tell me you’re busy with her up there, suguru,” gojo remarks suggestively, “no wonder you’re flying all around like a cursed santa claus.”
suguru’s face flushes and he glances helplessly at you, searching your face in hopes of coming up with an acceptable answer. “cut it out. we’re just fine, satoru.”
“bleh, you could’ve just rented a plane, you freak.”
suguru doesn’t even entertain his best friend with a response, swiftly hanging up and tossing the phone to the bench. “i hope you’re happy,” he grumbles dryly, cock twitching inside you. “that was fun, huh?”
he’s half irritated, half in seventh heaven. “i know, i know. he’ll forget about it in a month.”
“in a few months,” suguru corrects you with narrowed eyes that still glint with playfulness despite his embarrassment. he pulls you close as the sleigh starts to drift toward the ground, the curses bracing to land. “besides the call, that was a great ride.”
you can’t stop grinning, leaning in to kiss away the pout on his lips. “next time, leave your phone at home so you don’t get us into this mess again, hehe.”
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circeyoru · 22 hours ago
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The Only Reason _ Part 4 *END*
[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 (here)
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You sat behind Kaisel while Jinwoo willed it to obey him without trouble. A sudden shift was all it takes for your arms around Jinwoo’s waist to tighten like your life depended on it. Well, it does since you were a few thousand feet above land and sea. You could hear Jinwoo’s rich chuckle at your hold and enjoyed your dependency on him for safety, even when you didn’t have a choice in the matter.
After Jinwoo completed that high-ranking dungeon with ease, he was initially supposed to be sent back to his cell and put in a straitjacket. Though, you managed to convince your other Personnel colleagues to let Jinwoo roam around a bit, with your supervision, of course. While you did say ‘roam around’ it was actually a family visit for him, it has been a while since he last saw them face to face. You had no family to speak of, but you understand the family bond and love.
Jinwoo was no monster or beast overtaken by power and strength.
You guided him to Jeju Island, the island you brought under his name but with your wealth. A gift of sorts, since you thought Jinwoo would prefer if he could use his powers and train in a more secluded spot. Plus, you had been planning this move with his mother and younger sister for a while too. 
Not long after Jinwoo was admitted, you did a background scan of him while Personnel 001 was busy testing Jinwoo and subjecting him to their games under the excuse of writing up Jinwoo’s qualities and potential harm. You have never liked 001, but you can’t deny they were talented in some sense, so you never fought against it.
While you went over Jinwoo’s background, you found the records of his earlier days as an E-Rank Hunter, the lowest of the low. Not a pretty past story, he was in constant warzones over his caliber, facing difficulties that you saw as hard to deal with. Then you saw his protectiveness and care over his mother and younger sister. That was what got your attention. He voluntarily placed himself in the facility to protect his family.
Naturally, you had to see for yourself the two people he cared for. You dressed comfortably and went to them outside of work when they both would be at home. While you made your way there, you noticed some Guards stationed from post to post to monitor Jinwoo’s residence. Some had moved away when they recognized your status, none questioned why you were there, for no one is allowed to question a Personnel.
You brushed your clothes before you knocked and waited for an answer. There was obvious sounds coming from inside, but it was long until a response came.
“Go away.” The voice of a young girl shouted through the door. You deduced it to be Jinwoo’s younger sister, Jinah.
“Hello, I would like to have a chat with Hunter Sung’s family members, I mean no harm.” You announced your purpose.
There was another long silence before the door creaked open and half the face of an older woman was seen. “Please leave us alone. You already took my son away from us. What more do you want?”
You forced yourself to stay as professional as you could, stopping yourself from sighing. Not because things weren’t going smoothly, but because things progressed in such a way. Not only is a member of their family gone and treated like a tool, but they were also observed like some suspect. “Mrs. Park, I truly mean no harm or ill intent. If you wish, I will call off the guards stationed near you as proof of my sincerity. I’ll visit another time.”
And you did as you promised. While you were dealing with your work, you’d have glimpses of Jinwoo in the testing area with Personnel 001. It was nothing short of experimentation and everyone was all for it, thinking and taking another S-Rank Hunter as the perfect test subject to toy with without regards for the consequences.
Briefly, you’d see Jinwoo’s eyes lock on yours and you’d see the sharpen in them, though also a softness. You’d turn away or would have your attention cut off abruptly due to something and the thought was gone like the wind.
It took some time, yet worth it when you earned trust from Mrs. Park Kyung-Hye and Jinah. They had a lot to share about Jinwoo and gave you a picture of Jinwoo before he became an S-Rank Hunter, even before he worked as an E-Rank Hunter. The things you never found in the background check was all there to give you a clear perspective of who Jinwoo was as a person.
That’s why. When Personnel 001’s death was announced during work, you were neither sad nor grieving. You quickly saw through the cause labelled as ‘accidental’ and saw the culprit. Hunter Sung Jinwoo snapped. After what happened with Personnel 001, no one wanted to work close with Jinwoo if they could help it, so you took up the slack.
As expected, Jinwoo had intentionally done it for a reaction and change of some kind. You’re thankful to him for pulling out a thorn at your side, so you wanted to repay him in some way. You’re reminded that the two females truly loved and cared for Jinwoo as much as he does for them. It was heartbreaking to see them separated once more after reuniting for a moment.
So why not earn an opportunity where they could meet?
It started small. A disposable device so that they could text each other. A phone call with a burner phone provided by you. Then, a video call. Last was sneaking Jinwoo out of the building through the shadows. He called it <Shadow Exchange> with a cooldown of a few hours; in those few hours, he spent it to the fullest with his family while you would stay in the cell to keep watch and ensure no one knew Jinwoo was gone.
It was something that heavily relied on trust. For if Jinwoo were to decide he’d rather stay with his family than return to the cell, that would be it. You nor anyone else could restrain him or bring him back, and your place within the facility would plummet (but that was none of your concerns). With what you know of his abilities, he could have left the country and sought somewhere safe to live with his family without issue. 
Still, he returned every time.
The perfect opportunity came when the Jeju raid was prioritized. You were in the meeting on how to deal with it. An alliance with Japanese Hunters. It was risky to have the S-Ranks in public, even riskier with S-Ranks from another country. Some wanted Jinwoo to be on the assault team, but you disagreed, saying it was not good to use a trump card when the Japanese Hunters seemed to be playing something. 
The team was decided between you and the other Personnel with the advice of Go Gunhee, a head figure of the Hunter Association before the EMI took over. That old Hunter still had a good say over what happened with Hunters, especially the high-ranking ones in the country. He was the only S-Rank allowed to remain among the public due to his fragile and slowly routine health; the only precaution against him was the <Outrage>. So, the association building became the headquarters for the EMI Korea branch.
You were going to go with the selected Hunters to Jeju Island, along with a few Personnel from the Japan branch. However, when Jinwoo or his Shadows overheard you’d be going to a dangerous raid to supervise with another Personnel, he was quick to demand your presence in his cell and threaten to <Outrage> if you had gone to said raid.
So you stayed in the facility building while watching the raid broadcast live through body cameras on the Hunters. You and everyone else’s eyes were glued to the scenes. The others were focused on wishing for the raid’s clearance. You were focused because you hoped—prayed—for the Hunters’ safe return. They were still Hunters.
Why can’t anyone see that? Understand that?
You recall the moment Cha Hae-In was knocked out on the verge of death, Min Byung-Gyu was killed with his head devoured, Choi Jong-In’s mana had long since ran out, Lim Tae-Gyu was outmatched and rendered useless, and Baek Yoonho and Ma Dongwook’s defence and strength were depleted due to lack of energy. The talented S-Rank Hunters of Korea were about to be wiped out since the Japanese said they were falling just as quickly.
There was no time to lose. There was only one answer. One hope for this nightmare.
“Open the door.” You coldly instructed the guards. 
You didn’t care that they flinched and fumbled out of their seats to do as you ordered, unable to hide their phones that played the live stream of the raid. You also didn’t miss the gossip from the other guards silently cheering that their job might be lighter with empty cells, meaning they hoped for the S-Rank Hunters’ fall.
The doors slowly opened for you, and you made your way through them, approaching the darkness. You took exactly five strides, and you knew you’d be standing in front of what would be the side of Jinwoo’s bed. He’d be sitting by the bedside, waiting for you with a smirk. His glowing eyes betray his location and his anticipation of your sudden but expected visit.
“Clear the Jeju Island Raid.” You spoke firmly.
“I’m not interested in doing charity.” Jinwoo’s eyes closed. You heard ruffling and then faint footsteps that were made on purpose since his movements could be compared to that of an assassin or even a ghost. You felt his presence before you saw his glowing purple eyes closer in front of you. “So I’ll have to decline.”
“For me. Do it for me.” You knew. You knew well that the only way to get through to him now was to you. From his interest, it turned to obsession and then to possessiveness. You knew you were the only reason Jinwoo hadn’t broken out of you once he knew you were shielding and treating his family with care, not out of manipulation but out of the rare kindness of your heart. In his eyes, you were a gem among trash.
Jinwoo hummed and chuckled. You felt his forehead against yours and his hands cupping your face with gentleness anyone else would shake and think it’s impossible for a Hunter of his status. “Of course. How could I refuse? It’s great that you know how much power you also hold over me and not just the other way around.”
Your hands reached up to pat his cheek, though you ended up with his neck due to the darkness and height difference. Jinwoo giggled as if he was ticklish. You pouted with a blush and uncharacteristically reached higher on your tiptoes to pat his cheeks. “Time is of the essence.”
“At your command. You just lead the way.”
Your memories brought you back when you noticed the familiar island. You pointed down for Jinwoo, and he guided Kaisel to fly down. From the air, one could see the built mansion and the playground and fields around. Surrounded by forests and a few pathways that connected the mansion to other areas of the island. There were some of Jinwoo’s Shadows out and around on the island like guardians. 
“This place is counted as private property; no one can step foot here without permission. If they do, they could be punished. This is my gift to you and your family, also an apology for what you all have endured.” You spoke as the ground came nearer and nearer. You saw the mansion doors open, and his mother and little sister came out to greet him, all smiles and tears. “I’ve removed you from the facility records and became your official Guardian. So you don’t have to return there any more.”
Kaisel landed and Jinwoo looked back at you. “Won’t you be reprimanded for what you’ve done?”
You shook your head with a smile. “It’s about time I did this for the Hunters. I’ll do the same for the others back at the facility as well. There are plenty of small islands they can use and inhabit too, so—”
“No.” Jinwoo gripped your hands tightly. He suddenly carried you in his arms and jumped down from Kaisel’s back. Out of reflexes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his collar. His words made you look back at him. “You can’t do that for the others. Don’t just free me and forget about me.”
“But I…” You were at a loss for words. You thought Jinwoo would be more content with this since he would logically care for his family more than you and let you do your work.
“Big brother!”
“Jinwoo.”
The calls of Jinah and Kyung-Hye interrupted your sentence, and you didn’t want to dampen the otherwise tearful reunion. Jinwoo placed you on your feet. “We’ll talk later.”
You watched the two hug Jinwoo and he smiled in their presence, so innocent and childish, a stark contrast to the attitude he’d give to any other soul on the planet, apart from you in some cases. Now that you think about it, you look back to see Kaisel had long melted into Jinwoo’s shadow, and showed you the scenery of the sea. Did you even prepare for a way back to the facility or off this island?
As your head turned back to Jinwoo, he flashed you a carefree smile.
Oh. You missed that detail.
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Note: Last one for this month, I think. And this marks the end of the series! Thanks for coming along for this ride! There's not much to continue from this point on cause Jinwoo basically got his freedom back, but who knows. Maybe I'll get some ideas and continue, or this would stay as the end~
𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.
My Works: MASTERLIST
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mysteryshoptls · 2 days ago
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SSR Trey Clover - Room Relaxation Vignette
"Happy Birthday"
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[Interior Hallway]
Trey: Next class is… Oh, alchemy. There's stuff I need to prep for the experiment, so I guess I should head to the classroom already.
[Silver approaches]
Silver: Hello there, Trey-senpai...
Trey: Silver, hi. What's up, why are you staring at me so intently? Do I have something on my face?
Silver: Trey-senpai, is there anything you wish you had right now?
Trey: That's an unexpected question. Hmm, what do I want…?
Trey: Oh, maybe an automatic flour sifter? It'll speed things up and will keep my hands from getting too tired. It'd make baking sweets much easier on me.
Trey: Also, I'd like an apron. I have a few that I can hang from my neck, but that might cause my shoulders to get stiff, so I'd like to try out new kinds.
Trey: Plus, they tend to get pretty dirty before long, so it's never a bad thing to have too much.
Silver: I see… That was helpful.
Silver: Thank you. I think Riddle will be pleased once he hears what you've said.
Trey: Hm? Why are you bringing up Riddle?
Silver: Yesterday, before we began our club activities, Riddle was pondering over what to get you for your birthday.
Trey: Oh, so that's why you asked me what I'd want all of a sudden. …But hey, should you have told me all that…?
Silver: He seemed to be stuck in a conundrum, so I thought perhaps I could help with suggestions. Is that a problem?
Trey: Uhh, I mean, I thought maybe he might have been trying to keep the gift a secret, since he didn't come ask me directly…
Silver: …Forgive me if I've done something terrible to the both of you.
Trey: Y-You don't have to look that grave!
Trey: I'm sure this'll help him, so you should try telling him it was something you picked up through casual conversation.
Silver: I understand, I'll try telling him that. Thank you, Trey-senpai.
[Silver departs]
Trey: Yeah. See you, then.
Trey: Silver is one strait-laced guy. A bit different from the way Riddle is, that is...
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]
Trey: Ah… It's already past 8PM. I have to start making my rounds to see if anyone's breaking any of the Queen of Hearts' laws.
Trey: I'll go check out the kitchen first. I'd like to think there'd be no issues, but…
Trey: It'd be bad if there was someone trying to steal a tart from the refrigerator again, even if it's only a slim chance.
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]
Trey: So far, so good, for now. Next is the lounge. Hm? What's this smell…?
Trey: Hey, you two sitting on the sofa. What is that drink you have there?
Trey: Just as I thought, it's honey lemonade!
Trey: It's already 8PM. You planning on violating Queen of Hearts' Law Number 256?
[Heartslabyul Student A speaks up]
Trey: …Oh good, if you haven't actually drunk any, then that's fine. Make sure you pour it out before any issues arise.
[Heartslabyul Students A and B run away, Heartslabyul Students C and D arrive]
Trey: …Hm? Hey, you guys who just walked into the lounge, did I just hear you say "that turkey lunch was delicious"?
Trey: Do you remember the Queen of Hearts' Law Number 648? You forgot? It'd be bad if you violated that rule. Make sure you check if there were any others who might've forgotten, too!
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]
Trey: Phew, somehow, we got through the day without there being any rule violations. Please, all I'm asking is for them to do better at not getting caught…
Trey: Now that I've taken a shower and freshened up with a good teeth brushing, guess I can just relax a bit in my room.
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]
Trey: Oh, yeah, I should answer the Headmage's survey before I forget. Let's see, it's about…
「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」
Trey: Things we want improved…? I feel like I could take it or leave it. Hmm, guess I'll try to think it over while drinking some tea.
Trey: …Oh. Ah, right, I just brushed my teeth using fluoridated toothpaste.
Trey: I can't let the fluoride film dissolve. I'll just drink water instead.
Trey: Even if I were to just brush my teeth again, the washroom always gets pretty crowded around this time, so it's not really a good time to go.
Trey: Sigh… If there were at least a sink in my room, I could do it all here, even my flossing…
Trey: I'd like to put that in the survey, but there's no way they'd accept me asking for a private washroom…
Trey: …Then, doesn't that mean it should just be that every room should have its own washroom?
Trey: Yeah. That might be a necessary change to make sure that all the students have clean dental health.
Trey: Even now, whenever I try to hand them floss, or tell them to brush more properly,
Trey: There's a ton of guys who only do it halfway, giving excuses like, "it's causing a line" in the washroom.
Trey: But it'd take too much time to renovate every single room. If I want them to renovate something while I'm still here at this school…
Trey: Oh, I know. I should write in the survey that I want them to "widen the washrooms."
Trey: That feels a little more realistic than asking for a private washroom for each room, so this request might get accepted, right?
Trey: If this actually comes to fruition, I would be able to go brush my teeth on my own preferred schedule…
Trey: And none of my other dormmates would be able to use the excuse that they'd be holding up other people in line.
[knock on door]
Trey: …Hm? Who's that? One second, I'll open the door.
[Heartslabyul Student E arrives]
Trey: One of my packages got mixed in with yours? Sorry for the trouble. Yeah, goodnight.
Trey: Wait, is this…? Ah, it is! It's the recipe book I bought online!
Trey: It had good reviews, so it grabbed my interest. Hmm, let's see… The sweets I wanted to make was…
Trey: Ah, found it. This is the one, combining cream and caramel into a puff pastry. This looks easier to make than I thought.
Trey: I need to try making it tomorrow… Ah wait, there's supposed to be a lot of sweets at the birthday party tomorrow.
Trey: Guess I'll have to wait until at least the day after tomorrow to try and make it. Oh man, just looking at this book is giving me more and more things I want to make.
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Trey's Room]
[alarm rings]
Trey: …Ugh…
[Trey slaps alarm off]
Trey: …Shut up.
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Trey: …Is it morning already? Hrrrngh… Ugh…
Trey: Yaaawn… Glasses, glasses… Mmm… It's not here… Where is it…? Ah, found it.
Trey: Nnnnggh… I'm so groggy… Uhh… What's going on today again?
Trey: Oh, right. Today's my birthday party…
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Trey: .....................
Trey: …Ack! This isn't good, at this rate, I'll fall back asleep. I should go wash my face and brush my teeth…
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Trey: Mmm, I feel like my brain's finally working.
Trey: I only planned on skimming it, but I ended up staying up late reading through that recipe book
Trey: I'm not a morning person, so I was trying not to stay up too late… Guess I can't get carried away like that.
Trey: Alright, guess it's time to get ready for the day. I'll pull out my mirror and start with sunscreen… Oh, oops.
Trey: That was close. I still had my glasses on, I should take them off.
Trey: That reminds me, I remember when I once forgot to take off my glasses and took a shower with them on.
Trey: All the other guys in the dorm couldn't stop laughing at how my lenses fogged up, that it was a running joke for a little while after that.
Trey: Okay, I'm done applying it. This sunscreen is pretty easy to apply, so it helps me get ready faster.
Trey: "Do you find daily maintenance troublesome? All the more reason to pick and choose the exact items you use!"
Trey: …Or so Rook said, when he gave me this. It's definitely different than the one I used to use, that's for sure.
Trey: Guess I'll just buy the same thing again once I'm out. Oh, right. I need to do something for Rook to pay him back for this, too.
Trey: Okay, next are my eyebrows. I'll use a pen to gently give them shape…
Trey: …When I look at my eyes this way, it really looks like I have a mean glare.
Trey: Cater did say once that a lighter-colored eyebrow mascara could help give a gentler feel. Maybe I should try that next time…?
Trey: Nah, nevermind, it's not like I tend to glare whenever I'm wearing my glasses, so I can just leave it. If anything, it'd just be a pain to add more to my makeup regimen.
Trey: All it needs is to look good, right? Oh, and I should paint on my suit before I forget…
Trey: Back when I was a freshman, all my clovers tended to be asymmetrical, or distorted, or just plain misshapen…
Trey: Now, I'm able to draw it on pretty quick and cleanly. Guess I've just gotten better over the years. …Alright, I've finished applying everything, so now I can put my glasses back on…
Trey: As for my hair… It looks like I have a bit of bedhead. Maybe I shouldn't've been wearing a headband like this?
Trey: But hey, I should be able to fix that with a bit of brushing. I just have to be a little careful here… I guess this'll do.
Trey: Once I get changed into my school uniform, I guess I'll head to campus a little earlier today. After all, there's someone who's waiting to give me a surprise.
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[Main Street]
Silver: Good morning, Trey-senpai.
Silver: I was able to inform Riddle of our conversation yesterday. The present he chose is…
Trey: Hey now, you don't have to say anything else! I'll save the surprise for when I actually receive the gift.
Silver: I see. I understand. Well then, I hope you have a good birthday.
[Silver departs]
Trey: Thanks. Sorry for all the trouble.
Trey: I'm perfectly happy if I can just have a peaceful day, sure… But I guess I can still get excited about getting birthday presents.
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Requested by @farfalla049 and @sakurakudo.
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conkreetmonkey · 3 days ago
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Why houses can and will get more expensive forever and ever despite the obvious impossibility of infinite growth within a finite system!
If the economy is doing the best it ever has, why are homelessness, starvation and deaths of despair all skyrocketing? It's because poor people are too stupid to realize they should be thriving, experts say
10 self care tips that all involve buying products and won't actually benefit your mental or physical health!
Your 25-year-old children still live with you and don't have jobs because they're lazy and selfish, and if they tell you otherwise they're lying to you: 10 hot new insults to hurl at them when they dare to show their face in their own home!
How do we solve the labor shortage? We asked a business owner who rejects 800 applications per day, has 10 fake listings up on Indeed, and isn't actually looking to hire anybody!
Why does nobody want to have kids anymore? It's because they have too many rights, experts say
"Gen Z lacks professionalism and I refuse to hire them" says man who hasn't returned an email in 20 years, has never proofread anything, has a website designed by blindfolded chimps that hasn't been updated since 2011, steals tip money, and flagrantly disregards labour law
30 fun ways to turn your beloved hobby into just another sisyphean chore!
10 ways to reduce your carbon footprint by atoms at a huge quality-of-life downgrade while some guy in LA who was born rich burns ten trillion tons of diesel per day because he likes the smell and strangles sea turtles for fun!
Tech CEO sets $10,000,000,000 in cash ablaze while naked and smeared in his own feces, indecipherably rambles about armadilloes controlling the senate when questioned: here's why this was actually a genius business move and he totally deserves to make 4000x the salary of an actual doctor or engineer!
"I desperately need more workers!" says man who just fired 35% of his entire talent pool and permanently burnt bridges with them to pad quarterly report
Incredibly rich man who's fumbled 5 marriages says divorce and abortion should be outlawed to boost birthrates (and for no other reason)
END OF THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD? Landlord who owns 37 properties only sees 1.5x profit increase this year, as opposed to last year's 2x
Why [country that's doing far better than America in terms of median quality of life, stability, and happiness]'s economy is crumbling due to Not Pursuing Growth Recklessly Enough
Special: we pretend the cost-of-living crisis is a complex issue and not a simple matter of monopolistic, state-backed price gouging for 13 whole paragraphs! Experts A. Bushbeater, H. Emandhaw, and Wish E. Washi are consulted to meanderingly talk about how complicated and unsolveable things are!
Is the solution to the climate crisis for you to live, eat and work in ways that would be considered abuse if done to an animal despite more than enough resources for everyone being produced, but a huge fraction being discarded to create artificial scarcity?
Why housing prices going down will actually cause housing prices to go up somehow, and you should give up all hope and learn your fucking place as a serf in the neofeudal oligarchy we're building on your backs. (but pretty please have at least 3 children)
Why it's their own fault they're in inescapable debt and we should shit on them for it: the then-18 year olds we swindled into taking massive, high-interest, non-bankruptcy-eligible loans that all their parents and teachers pushed or forced them into SELFISHLY want to be free of this burden after 40 years of barely scraping by! Here's 10 reasons why a contract you signed as a teenager should bind you until you die.
From eating your pets to selling pieces of your body to drinking your own piss for pay-per-view fetish content: 15 tips for saving cash this December!
Unemployment drops to all-time low! (after the government changed the definition to exclude anyone who's ever eaten an apple from counting as unemployed)
[Billionaire Owned News Media Voice]
Is getting enough sleep actually harming you in the long run? We spoke to an Economics Expert who says: Yes!
Eating! The newest luxury fad you should be skipping out on.
What's it like for the working class? We spoke to Three Trust Fund Kids to find out!
Feeling burned out? Our sources suggest the answer is working more!
10 Reasons why an Equitable Humanitarian Utopia would actually be a total bummer!
This billionaire CEO is just like you! His bones definitely do not taste delicious.
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catbolt · 13 hours ago
Text
Merry Christmas, Dr. Zayne
inspired by (and written listening to) Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence - Ryuichi Sakamoto from my zayne playlist hehe
fluff, zayne x mc, 1.3k wc
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Snow crystallizes on tree branches outside in the light of the falling winter sun, each ray refracting through the icicles that frame the window and splitting into thin beams that run like streams onto the wooden floor inside. She sighs, staring out the window, mug of cocoa clenched between cold hands.
She anticipates him coming home late again. "You know, emergency room visits spike during the holiday season," Zayne had told her with a smile in the morning as he prepared to leave.
"You're not even an ER doctor," she grumbled, arms crossed. He'd laughed softly. "When people need help, I help, my dear. It's non-negotiable."
Times like this she begrudges his unrelentingly chivalrous spirit and sense of justice, although it's usually one of the qualities she likes the most about him. She waits on the couch, feeling more than a little restless. She had hoped to spend at least some part of Christmas Day with him, but as the hours ticked by on the clock, the chances of that grew slimmer and slimmer.
She doesn't text Zayne, not wanting to bother him, knowing he's likely stressed at work. She gets up from the couch with a sigh, deciding to at least busy herself with some cleaning. Her presents for him sit below the tree, untouched.
The sun sinks lower, quickly, and she grimaces, its descent through the clouds a constant reminder of the fact that the hours in this special day is running out, and so far she's spent it nearly all alone. She tidies up the dinner table, mindlessly searching through the cabinets for what to make for dinner. If Zayne won't be joining her to chastise her for her poor diet, a box (or two) of mac n cheese should do the trick to soothe her feelings.
She sighs, bending down in the pantry to grab the boxes in question, when suddenly she hears a click of the door unlocking. She shoots up in surprise, promptly banging her head into the top of the pantry cabinet. "Fuck!" she cries out, eyes screwed up in pain as she massages the back of her head.
"Hm. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting to me coming home like this."
Zayne's soft, chuckling voice filters in from the foyer, getting louder with each word. When she opens her eyes, still rubbing at the back of her head, she sees him standing in the kitchen entryway, a lush bouquet of white roses and jasmine tucked under his arm. She splutters a little, watching as he presents it to her, a small smile on his face.
"What's this about?" she says softly, taking the bouquet from him, a gentle pink flush rising on her cheeks.
"What, I can't give my girlfriend flowers?" He steps closer, closing the space between them. He's still in his white coat and scrubs underneath, and she can see the slight tiredness in his eyes. "Besides, they're an apology."
"For what?" she mutters, setting the bouquet down on the dining room table.
"For not being able to spend more of Christmas with you," he murmurs, capturing one of her hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I know you weren't happy that I had to work. I'm sorry. It wasn't ideal."
She feels a mild pang of guilt. He hadn't seemed bothered by her pouting and whining about it all of Christmas Eve, brushing it off at every turn with his signature even-keeled demeanor. But she'd misjudged him, it seems, as she searches his gaze, seeing his brow furrow slightly. "I really am sorry," he says quietly. "We couldn't open presents in the morning because I had to go to work."
"Oh..." she shakes her head. "Don't... worry about that."
"I do worry," he says softly, lowering her hand from his lips, but keeping his hold on it, thumb skating soothingly over the back of her hand. "I know it's important to you."
"It's not a big deal," she says hastily. "You didn't have to come today if--" "I wanted to come back," he says, voice carrying a bit of a harder edge now, an authoritative quality signaling it's not up for debate. "I wanted to see you. And to give you my gift."
She sighs a little, still feeling guilty. "The flowers are beautiful, Z. But you didn't have to rush back--"
His brow furrows. "That's not the gift," he says gently.
He guides her over to the couch, gesturing for her to sit down. "Just a moment," he says softly, walking off to retrieve his bag, which he begins to rummage through.
The sun has set quickly, the room now enveloped in darkness, the only light source now being the Christmas tree. The soft white lights send pinpricks of light dancing across the room. She hears a match flick, and turns around to see Zayne lighting a candle behind her, setting it down on the coffee table. A small smirk plays at her lips. "Getting romantic, are we?" He lights another candle, placing it nearby. "No," he says matter-of-factly. "Just a moment. You'll see."
She almost rolls his eyes at his inability to go with the joke, the grin lingering on her lips. He sits down on the couch opposite her, and then produces an unassuming box, flat and rectangular, tied with a dark gray ribbon. It fits in both of his hands, and he hands it over to her. "Your gift."
She looks down, fingers working through the ribbon and gently untying it. She hesitates for a moment, and then opens the box.
Inside lies a stunning, thin silver necklace, adorned with what looks like hundreds of soft blue gemstones that twinkle alluringly as soon as the candlelight hits them. Each gemstone is tear shaped, like a shimmering droplet of rain.
"Zayne..." her breath catches in her throat.
"Do you like it?" he says softly, with a hint of hesitation in her voice anyone but her would miss. She nods, and he lets out a soft hum of relief, gently lifting the necklace from the box and moving closer to fasten it around her neck.
"I lit the candles because I wanted to see how it looked in their light," he mutters softly, his breath ghosting over her ear as he attaches the necklace around her. He pulls away, his eyes watching how the glittering stones seem to dance and shift in the light.
"Beautiful," he says, voice a little hoarser than usual. She swallows softly, the space between them nearly pulsing, reverberating with unsaid words. She knows Zayne isn't much of a talker, but she's learned to be attuned to his face and body enough that she can read his emotions like a book, a consequence of the past year they've spent dating. She sees him fidget slightly, the pulse thrum slightly faster in his neck, the way his eyes flick between the jewelry and her eyes, as if watching to see how the candlelight dances there too.
"Thank you," she says, her voice thick with emotion as she takes one of his hands in her own. It's cold, as his hands always are, and she scoots a little closer to him on the couch. "It is beautiful."
He clears his throat. "I was talking about you," he says.
It's like the world falls blissfully quiet-- even the weight of all the things that they can't find the words to say say feels lighter suddenly. The feeling of his hand in hers, slowly warming between her palms, grounds her in this moment.
The tree glows softly, the lights flickering like thousands of little fireflies, casting a golden glow across the room. Under the mask of the dim light, it's like the exhaustion is erased somehow from Zayne's features, and all she can see is the warmth in his deep, forest green stare, desperately trying to push forth. She squeezes his hand. "Merry Christmas," she says softly.
"Merry Christmas," he replies, in a whisper, squeezing back.
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alewritesfics · 2 days ago
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Bridging realities
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ℑℑℑ.- 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤....𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Word count: 2.1k
Tags: unedited, slow burn, eventual smut/ spicy scenes, some angst but happy ending, playful banter
Summary: in which Y/N's slight actions start to- or you'll see on your own.... His POV
⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️
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The night air was cool against Anthony’s skin as he stepped onto the garden, a welcome reprieve from the stifling confines of the ballroom. The distant hum of laughter and music filtered through the open doors, but out here, the world was quiet. Peaceful.
He leaned against the balustrade, running a hand through his hair and exhaling sharply. The evening had been relentless—a parade of bright-eyed ladies and their overly enthusiastic mothers, each vying for his attention, each more determined than the last.
And then there was her.
Anthony’s brow furrowed as his thoughts returned to Miss Featherington. She was unlike the others—sharp, playful, and entirely unpredictable. Most women he encountered were eager to flatter, eager to please, but she… She teased him. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, it both infuriated and intrigued him.
He could still feel the warmth of her hand in his, the way her gaze had met his so boldly, so unflinchingly. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that—not as a title, not as a prize to be won, but as a man.
Anthony shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when his responsibilities weighed so heavily on him. His family’s future depended on his choices, and his choices had to be logical and calculated. There was no room for impulsive emotions, no room for the kind of connection Miss Featherington seemed to inspire.
And yet…
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the cool breeze brush against his face. He’d always prided himself on his control, on his ability to compartmentalize his feelings and focus on what truly mattered. But tonight, something about her had unsettled him.
“Bridgerton!” his eyes opened as he was called, he turned his name to see a gentleman he was acquainted with (Honestly I forgot the names of them and am too lazy to search so they’ll be man 1,2 and 3)
He sighed, annoyed his alone time was interrupted but walked towards them nonetheless. “I owe you a drink” man 1 said
“Whatever for?” Anthony asked, looking between the three of them
“With you as the prize catch of the season, the rest of us shall receive a respite from the marriage minded mamas this season indeed” man 1 smirked
“Enjoy your freedom while it lasts” Anthony responded “You, too, will soon submit to this ridiculous rigmarole of courtship,” The doors opened a few feet away, a young beautiful lady walking out without their knowledge. “Squiring every eligible miss around town until you’re barely able to see straight”
“Is one lady unlike any other?” man 2 asks “Simply pick the least objectionable and get her wed, bed and bred. Then you can turn to more pleasurable pursuits”
“And more pleasurable partners” The lady walked down the stairs, quietly walking behind a big bush to listen more closely “You may be cavalier, but if I must leg shackle myself in marriage, the lady in question should have more to recommend her”
“Do not tell us you are hoping for a love match?” Man 1 jokes
“Love is the last thing I desire,” Anthony denied “But if my children are to be of good stock, then their mother must be of impeccable quality. A pleasing face, an acceptable wit, genteel manners enough to credit a viscountess” Anthony was surprised as the words left his mouth, remembering a questionably intriguing redhead said that was what he was looking for. His lips twitched slightly but he composed himself “It should not be hard to find, and yet, the debutantes of London fall short at every turn”
“You want the best. Perhaps the queen will finally name a diamond. Save you some trouble, at least of choosing her, wooing the piece is a different story indeed” Man 2 stated
“I should have no problem there” Anthony crossed his arms smugly, making the men laugh
Man 1 patted himself, “Smoking room, gentlemen?”
“I Shall be there anon” Anthony told them before the three men left, leaving him alone.
Anthony was about to leave when the sound of someone bumping into something stopped him “Is someone there?” he asked, looking back. He walked down the stairs, curious to see what it is “I can hear y-“
“You” He said with a smile as he stared at the mysterious woman he encountered days ago
“Pardon me, my lord” The woman sighed without emotion
“I never got your name” Anthony approached her “I was wondering if we might meet again” he crossed his arms behind his back, giving the woman a glance over
“So you might discern if my wit is acceptable? My manners genteel?” she said with annoyance
Anthony’s smile faded “You were eavesdropping?”
“It was hardly an effort, seeing as you were proclaiming your many requirements for a wife loud enough for the entire party to hear-“
“You take issue with my requirements?”
“I take issue with any man who views women merely as chattels and breeding stock” The lady said angrily
“None of that was meant for-“
“Viscount Bridgerton, yes?” the woman interrupted him, taking a step closer towards him “When you manage to find this paragon of virtue, whatever makes you think she will accept your suit? Are the young ladies of London truly so easily won by a pleasing smile and absolutely nothing more?”
Anthony was about to respond when he stopped, taking in her words before chuckling, remembering the same words said by a blue eyed, red headed beauty, some minutes ago, completely ignoring the young lady before him, finding humor in the coincidence.
“You are laughing?” the woman said offended
“no, no,no” Anthony apologized “my apologies, it is just someone told me the same thing before” his mind went once again towards the redhead. Seems like there is more women that share her particular ideals. If they are friends, then he can see why Y/n gets along with Eloise, both a pair of strong opiniated women.
“Then, seems like that person is someone you should listen to” The woman said
Anthony breathed out a chuckle, something indescribable in his eyes “yes…. yes, perhaps I should” he shook his head before looking at the lady again “If you excuse me…. I shall bid you goodnight” he bowed his head before walking away from the young lady
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He’s starting to think balls were his thing (hehe balls). Or maybe balls where you were present that is. Although he will never admit that. Or the fact that as he was currently stepping down the stairs behind his mother and sister, and his brother talking beside him, all his eyes did was search around the ballroom, in hopes of seeing a particular lady.
“Anyone here you’ve not yet rejected?” Benedict spoke beside him
Anthony turned to look at his brother, clearing his thoughts “You’re the artist,” His eyes went to the crowd once again “Do you see anyone remotely inspiring?” He cannot help the small smirk that showed on his face as his eyes caught sight of you next to Penelope “We shall have a diamond tonight and I’ll shall choose my wife”
He followed his mother as she brought Eloise in front of the queen, tuning out their conversation as his face unconsciously turned slightly to keep the redhead in sight. He turned back towards the queen, bowing in tune with his family before they left.
“If the queen, in fact, names Eloise the diamond, who will you marry then, brother?” Benedict asked
Anthony turned to look at him “Hush you” He left before benedict could respond as he saw a certain lady leave Penelope’s side and head towards the refreshments table.
Anthony approached the refreshment table with an easy stride, his gaze lingering on you as you delicately poured yourself a glass of lemonade. The crowd around him faded into a dull hum as he drew closer, his curiosity piqued by the way you seemed so at ease, yet entirely detached from the chaos of the ballroom.
“Miss Featherington,” he said smoothly as he stopped beside you, reaching for a glass himself. “I see you’ve discovered the most sought-after corner of the evening.”
You glanced up shocked before a flicker of amusement showed in your eyes. “Lord Bridgerton,” you greeted, your tone polite but teasing. “I wasn’t aware the refreshment table was the highlight of the night.”
Anthony chuckled, swirling the champagne in his glass. “It’s simply a strategic choice. Much safer here than braving the dance floor—or the relentless matchmaking.”
“Ah,” you said with mock seriousness, turning your body to face him “The infamous Bridgerton charm, evading mamas and their daughters alike. I imagine you ae a master at that by now.”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement. “I might say the same about you. I don’t see you dancing with any suitors of your own”
You tilted your head slightly “Sorry to disappoint you but I do not have any suitors” You state
Anthony frowned “How can that be? You’re beautiful” He blurted unconsciously. Your eyes widened at his words, a blush filling your cheeks
His eyes widened as well as he processed what he said “I-I-I mean.” He cleared his throat “I meant that you- you have a charm to you that men cannot deny that you are pretty”
You smiled “Thank you, my lord” you said, hiding your glee at his compliment “Oh, I- I’m sure you have matters to tent to. I wouldn’t dream of monopolizing your time. Surely, there’s a line of young ladies waiting for their turn with the Viscount.”
Anthony shrugged, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Oddly enough, the only company I find myself seeking at the moment is yours.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice, though you quickly recovered. “You clearly know how to flatter a lady, Lord Bridgerton. Is this how you court a lady?”
“Flattery?” He placed his glass down with an easy smile. “Not at all. I simply speak the truth.”
“Well, then,” you said, your tone light but edged with curiosity. “If this is the truth, then I wouldn’t dare to say otherwise”
Your gaze held his for a beat too long before you broke the moment with a small laugh. “Well, I hope tonight proves memorable for you, my lord.”
“Oh, it already has,” he said, his voice low and laced with something you couldn’t quite place.
Before you could respond, the trumpets sounded as the queen stepped down to make an announcement.
“Your presence is noted, and your queen most appreciative,” the queen started to say “Allow it to now be my honor to present to you the season’s diamond” she looked around at all the guests
“Miss Edwina Sharma”
You let out a small smile before turning towards Anthony “There you have your new wife” you teased
He turned to look at you “What?” he looked confused
“Was it not the lady that the queen chose the one that is going to be your wife?” You asked
“Where on earth did you hear that?” Anthony said confused
“I have my ways” You shrugged “But anyway, go introduce yourself”
Anthony frowned “I- “
“Go” You urged him “I’ll see you later” Anthony gave you one last look before heading towards the new diamond
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“She is a lovely diamond, dearest” Anthony’s mother approached him after the dance with Miss Edwina.
Anthony would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried after finding out that the woman he made such a bad impression on was Miss Edwina’s sister, making things just a bit difficult. Miss Edwina was nice, answering all of his questions with sincerity, awareness and intelligence. She is exactly what he wanted if he was going to marry out of duty.
But surprisingly, he cannot help but think back on the featherington girl. You were…different, you challenged him and you weren’t in awe of him like every other lady in London (If only he knew)
“Anthony?” His mother called out when he didn’t respond
He turned to look at his mother, shaking away every thought of you. No matter how much he enjoyed talking to you, how refreshing he found you to be.
You incited things in him he didn’t dare to pursuit more or acknowledge, things that went against everything he said he would never do, surprising considering you’ve spoken, truly spoken, not small greetings like the ones you gave each other whenever he came across the featherington family or when you accompanied Penelope to her meetings with Eloise, but full conversations for a total of like two times.
It unnerved him.
“She is nice” Anthony agreed with his mother, looking down.
He had to put duty above everything else.
“She is…who I shall marry” Anthony stated, his eyes catching a flicker of red hair from the corner of his eyes, he gave his mother one last glance before walking away
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⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️
*those in white are blogs which don't have their mentions on and thus I couldn't tag them*
Taglist:
@heyyitsreign
@imafangirlofeverything
@stopeatread
@smartiepants217
@magical-spit
@ifilwtmfc
@kitkat27
@zestygingergirl
@electronicexpertshark
@annareidprofiler
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unknownanomoly · 2 days ago
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I finally finished the Hunter Group Drawing!
But to be warned real quick, I did each and EVERY hunter in just MY style, so some may be hard to tell who is who, so just a quick message, if you need help finding your hunter, or have ANY questions for my own style/design choices for your hunter, please ask them, just be nice about it. With that being said, please enjoy this beautiful group drawing that took so long and I'm finishing this at 3 AM and want to cry :'3
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(I hate that tumblr makes the drawing quality go down, hope it's still nice enough though)
Mentions:
@glowingvoid @moons-fourth-neruon @riverripplespeaks @that-weird-bird1 @eclipse-kitsune @sleepyc63 @bumblewish @t00nyah @rw-ascension-au @olmplush @vo1dsea @shaymindreamy @peacherweasel @mushroominaforest @saffronstoats @churrorat-art @a-rabid-snake @grianthedecayingbird @creator-uuuhhhh And me <3
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green-square-anon · 18 hours ago
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Two things about your primarch daughter posts just to not spam you.
I know you said he tries and all that. But it's so hard not to feel enraged at Dorn. There's being emotionally inept and then there's not trying. He reads like someone who dosen't TRY. He would have seen something. The kind of parent who never tells his child he loves them or he's proud of them? not sure what parental books he would find that didn't mention that and even then he would have to twist the words so hard to mean "actually I should just feed and clothe her, she'll know". I mean a parent child relationship where the CHILD "gives more than she recieves"? I want to slap him. It's the same feeling I get reading those reader or oc inserts where he's emotionally unavailble to his partner and I don't know if you've seen it since it mostly floats around 4chan spaces and 1d4/1d6chan. But that copypasta where someone talks about how others find Dorn boring but to them he's like that quiet family man at work who dosen't engage in watercooler talk and kinda opens up to his sons and I'm just wondering "wtf is his relationship with the mother" since she's never mentioned. Only with someone emotionally neglecting a child instead of a partner it is much worse. With partners I'm just thinking "leave his ass".
Thankfully I don't think he's THAT bad in canon and the fandom has flandarized him a bit. This is the same man who called Sigismund his "most beloved son" and lined the insides of his armor with fur to never forget the humanity of his grandfather or something along those lines.
On the other hand there's this bit in Echoes of Eternity before Sanguinius dies:
Dorn didn’t know what to say, when nothing seemed worth saying. He was not made for exchanges like these. Many thought him cold in these moments, even heartless, but he was neither. It was purely that defeat was alien to him, as was the quality of emotion shining in Sanguinius’ gaze. What was worth saying when no words were necessary? What did one say to a brother you barely knew, who had nevertheless fought beside you from the beginning to the end? Sanguinius had the answer without even needing to consider the question. ‘Farewell, Rogal.’ The Angel rose to his feet, and the holo tracked upward with him. ‘If we do not meet again in the flesh, know that it was an honour, being your brother.’ The Praetorian nodded to the Angel, wanting the right words, searching for them, and not finding them. The silence stretched out. It dragged. Sanguinius smiled, knowing. The hololith blinked away.
(For the people who like primarch x primarch I thinks there's great potential in Dorn having unrequited feelings for Sanguinius but that's a tangent). Yeah the man is emotionally constipated but he does TRY and in the time as well as the responsibility that comes with parenthood I think, can nearly garentee he would have expressed himself (side note but how the hell did he even get laid if he was this cold?)
Konrad. I know you most likely just didn't consider this (god that sounded unintentionally dickish, not like that, just that you mentioned not having considered the mother before) but I am a little gremlin for "LORE". What about handing the kid of to the mom instead of Vulkan unless mommy met some tragic end? In my oc verse (I'm not bringing that up to enforce lore, I'm saying this because these ideas are free for anyone who wants to build of of them) I intentionally made it so that Konrads waifu came from a family that was both large and tightnit (and relatively wealthy) so that even if Konrad went AWOL or just needed help there WAS that support network of uncles/aunts and grandparents to help. Even if the emotional support network on the fathers side was…. litterally noone. Or perhaps Konrad decided their must be primarch/astartes level protection, which would be smart, and didn't trust himself so "Primarch, but not me" was (to him) the best solution? That would be interesting as hell as a concept.
Primarchs + Daughters (2)
Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
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Konrad Curze
A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.
Sanguinius
This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.
Ferrus Manus
It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.
Angron
Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.
Roboute Guilliman
Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.
Mortarion
I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.
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I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO
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l0v3r666 · 14 hours ago
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Hi, hi!!! I've been a silent lurker in your account but when I saw that you now allow multiple characters I just knew that I wouldn't want to miss the chance! :>>
Can I request Jamil, Vil, and Rook with overprotective? I'd prefer it if it was obsessive love because I do appreciate a little bit more darker things but you don't have to!! ^^
Thank you sm and take your time! <3
omg so cute!! I had to take some time w/this one because they aren’t really connected (like year/club/dorm), but it was so fun to write!!
All of them are secretive people- putting up fronts to become palatable, but they’re equally possessive. Just with different strengths.
When obsessive!Vil wants something, he gets it. He knows you’re beautiful behind the layers of grime, and only he has the skills for you to reach your full potential.
It means nothing to Vil that you have other admirers, it’s not like he’d ever keep your shine for himself. He feels all fluttery whenever you become possessive over him. Many others would argue that your relationship is far from exclusive on account of his fame, but what the two of you have is special, and he’s not willing to let it go.
Obsessive!Jamil gets ugly with how fiercely he keeps you to himself. If you’re in Scarabia (pre ob) he keeps you nearly sedated with how often you’re hypnotized. It’s not very economical, but he has read that romance improves pain tolerence and reduces stress..
Jamil needs all the help he can get! Can’t you see how hard his work is? Not even mentioning the load he takes on to keep his favourite prefect afloat. You can repay him with a little quality time, can’t you? “The one you behold is your master. When I ask you a question, you will answer. When I give you a command, you will assent. Snake Charmer.”
Obsessive!Rook doesn’t gatekeep you by any stretch of the imagination, but instead forces you to be the protector of your privacy. It’s not like he’s sharing anything invasive (that’s all for his personal collection), but it’s just too much for any strangers to be approaching you in good conscious while knowing all your dirty laundry.
Rook becomes “possessive” only in the face of someone who gets more time with you. Sure he may be the most perceptive on the island, but what’s he supposed to do against Adeuce, or Grim when you spend all your time with them? Eventually he gets to know you well enough without actually meeting you that he greets you- confident that he knows your every move. But you’re full of surprises, so there’s no guarantee he’ll woo you right away. A good hunter knows when to lie in wait <33
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misc-obeyme · 2 days ago
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prompt: Simeon & Michael
a/n: I'm back! Did you miss me?? I still have a bandage that makes typing annoying, but I'm pushing through it because I can't go this long without writing and the ideas plague me so. Anyway, here's what the wheel gave me today! Michael is only mentioned. I'm also not caught up on the latest lessons, so I consider this to be taking place somewhere in seasons one or two of OG. @om-adventcalendar
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Simeon x GN!MC
Warnings: none!
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You made your way through the Christmas market, a thing that had popped up unexpectedly when the denizens of the Devildom had gotten into the swing of celebrating. It was set up with booths and stalls in the street, some food vendors and others selling trinkets for last minute gift giving. It was cold, with a light snow just beginning to fall through the darkness.
The lights and sounds of the market were all around you, festive colors and cheerful music creating a joyful atmosphere. You would never really get used to the idea of demons celebrating Christmas like this, but you appreciated that they were getting into the spirit of it.
And then you spotted him. He was always impossible to miss with that soft brown hair, the white of his outfit, and the unmistakable glow that seemed to surround him. He stood in the snow, the flakes melting as soon as they touched him, his eyes focused on a stall nearby.
You hastened to his side. "Simeon?"
Simeon turned to you and smiled. It was like a beam of warmth penetrating your soul. "There you are, MC," he said.
"Sorry," you said. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Not at all," Simeon said.
He offered you his arm and you immediately linked yours with his.
"Were you looking for something specific?" you asked, eyeing the booth that Simeon had been staring at.
Simeon guided you down the street. "I was thinking about buying some Devildom sweets to send back to Michael."
You were used to hearing this. It was something that Luke was often concerned with too. "What did you have in mind?"
Simeon paused at a booth. "I don't know," he admitted. "A lot of this appears to be the Devildom's attempt at creating human world holiday treats. Do you have any suggestions for something traditional?"
You considered the question, your eyes roaming over the display cases in front of you. It was a bakery booth, full of various pastries that were likely stuffed to the brim with weird Devildom ingredients.
Then your eyes fell upon what looked suspiciously like a fruit cake. That could certainly be considered a classic dessert. Everyone you knew either loved it or hated it.
You pointed it out to Simeon. "That looks like a fruit cake," you said. "It's pretty traditional."
When you stepped up to the counter, the demon behind it asked if they could help you.
"What kind of fruit is in this?" Simeon asked, gesturing to the fruit cake.
"Oh, only the highest quality bloodberries, devil crush mangoes, shadow oranges, and of course snowman's sigh!" the demon said enthusiastically.
It wasn't exactly the human world medley of fruits, but that was to be expected. You didn't think it sounded terrible.
"You know, I think this might work," Simeon said. "Can I get a box of them, please?"
Simeon carried a bag away from the booth as the two of you went back to wandering the market. It was a pleasant evening. You stopped for hot chocolate, sitting together under an awning and watching the snow fall. You loved the way Simeon's eyes brightened at the first sip of the sweet drink.
"Do you miss the Celestial Realm?" you asked.
Simeon seemed surprised by your question. "A little," he said. "Why do you ask?"
"You're always thinking about things to get for Michael," you said. "I thought maybe it was because you miss him and your home."
Simeon chuckled. "I do miss them," he said. "But not enough to leave you here in the Devildom without me."
You met his gaze at that and noted the playful look in his eyes. You couldn't help smiling, even as you felt the heat in your cheeks. "You wouldn't miss me that much, would you?"
Simeon reached out and brushed his gloved fingers against your temple. "MC, I would miss you like angels miss the stars."
Your heart skipped a beat. You put your hand over his and leaned your face into his warm touch. "Then I suppose you'll just have to stay here, with me."
Simeon kissed your cheek, spreading warmth throughout you. "Happily."
You leaned back, trying to get your pulse to settle a bit. You took a sip of your hot chocolate and changed the subject. "You'll have to let me know how Michael likes that fruit cake," you said.
Simeon smiled. "I'll be sure to report back."
You couldn't help imagining Michael in the Celestial Realm, whatever he even looked like, taking a big bite of a Devildom style fruit cake. For some reason, you found this to be a very entertaining vision.
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masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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idothisasahobby · 2 days ago
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last christams / kys
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synopsis: in which she has her heartbroken on Christmas Day one year and fixed the next
cw: angst, fluff, friends to lovers, non-idol au, in this imagine yeosang doesn’t celebrate christmas, like one swear i think?, your ex was terrible, fem!reader, nonidol!yeosang
Words: 3600
i wrote this super quickly so the quality might not be all that, my bad :(
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last christmas
“Are you ready for your gift?” you asked him excitedly. It was finally your favourite time of the year, Christmas. You always loved this time as it was one of the rare occasions where you were able to spend it with your loved ones—your family would all meet up later on at your parents’ house for the yearly Christmas dinner.
Unfortunately for you your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to join you all because of prior commitments he couldn’t get out of, of what they were exactly you weren’t sure but you surmised he must’ve decided to spend it with his own family as that would be the logical answer. You didn’t probe further because you knew he hated being asked a lot of questions.
You didn’t mind him not joining you, you thought he too deserved to share it with those he cared about most so you offered to meet earlier to exchange gifts before you separated to your various plans. You handed him a small box you’d expertly gift wrapped and watched excitedly as he unwrapped it. He finally opened the box and stared into it, his eyes widening.
“No way. You didn’t.”
You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain your elation. “I did! I saw they were on sale and knew immediately that I had to get them. And look, court side!”
You’d gotten him tickets to go watch his favourite basketball team. He jumped out of his seat and howled with joy. He’d always wanted to see a live game but always fell short on funds when the time would come to purchase them. You figured this would be the perfect gift, plus the two seats were court side. He’d always mentioned he wanted to watch from there.
“This is best, thank you, babe!” He mentioned he couldn’t wait to tell his best friend the news. You furrowed her eyebrows but thought nothing of it because surely he’d be taking you, right? Surely he’d be able to see that that was the intention and so you made no comment further on the matter.
“Okay, where’s my gift?” He seemed to only remember then that you were still in the room.
“It’s not here yet,” he started much to your disappointment, ”but it should be in tomorrow. There was a little delay on the delivery.”
You understood it could happen. It was a busy time of the year after all. “What is it, then?”
“You’ll love it. It’s something I think you’ll really enjoy.” He paused, almost as if for dramatic effect before giving you a wide grin. “It’s a massage chair.”
Your face slightly fell before you recovered before he could notice.
“Oh.”
He, however, sensed you weren’t quite as pleased as he was about your new gift. “What?”
“It’s just that…I don’t think I need a massage chair.”
This was your polite way of saying you absolutely had no interest in a massage chair. In fact, if you remembered correctly, he was the one who’d always wanted a massage chair. You knew exactly which one he’d always wanted as well and figured that was the one he’d gotten for you instead.
“What do you mean? You’ve mentioned it a few times before.”
That was where he was wrong.
“I wanted a foot spa.”
He shrugged, dismissing your statement.“Same thing. Just plop your feet up and it’ll give you a massage. This is a real steal, anyway. Instead of just your feet it’ll do your whole body. You should be happy about this.”
You sighed and said, “Well it’s not exactly what I wanted—“
You weren’t surprised when he wouldn’t let you finish. “Do you know how much this cost me? For you to be berating me like this?”
It didn’t cost him anything, you knew. He’d most likely asked his mother for the money. He hardly ever had some of his own.
“I wasn’t berating you. Actually it’s-“
“No. I’m not taking any of this. I try to do something special for you and you throw it right in my face. That’s so typical of you.”
You were quite familiar with the way this game would play out by now. Whenever he was in the wrong, he’d find a way to twist the situation so the finger would point back at yourself and you’d be the one who would need to apologise and when you would, he wouldn’t accept it, stating how his feelings were the ones that were hurt and how he was the one needed some space from you.
And that’s exactly how it went.
You just hated it had to happen on the one day you always looked forward to the most. You couldn’t believe he’d ruin your favourite holiday. You wouldn’t let him. Instead, you offered to leave his apartment before it could escalate further so you’d have the necessary time apart and you’d still be in somewhat of a cheery mood for when it was time to meet with your loved ones. Nothing would ruin your Christmas spirit, not even him.
The next day, you woke up to numerous missed calls and text messages from him asking if you could come over to his apartment to talk about the previous day.
That was how you found yourself on one side of his couch with him looking pensive on the other end, clearly ensuring there was enough distance between the both of you.
“How was the rest of your christmas? You didn’t call back but I assumed you were probably busy with your family. I know how this time gets,” you said as a means of a conversation opener. Nobody had spoken a word yet since he’d opened the door to let you in and the tension was thick between the two of you. His response didn’t make matters better. “I didn’t spend it with family.”
“You spent it alone?”
Hope dripped in your voice.
“No.”
And soon dried out.
“With your friends.” It wasn’t a question. You knew the answer and knew what would follow.
“She was there.” You knew who he was referring to. You could taste the bile forming.
“Oh.”
“After last night, I just needed someone to listen to me and hear me out and then one thing led to another and…”
“Oh.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say anymore. Words evaded you. You were afraid if you did try to say anything more, nothing would come out but your hot tears that already threatened to fall. After a while, he broke the silence. “Aren’t you gonna say anything?”
“What do you want me to say?” came her question in a soft, broken voice.
“Well if it wasn’t for our fight, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
It was in that moment everything seemed clearer to you. The rose coloured glasses you’d somehow worn up to this point fell off and you finally saw him for who he was. You knew for sure in that moment you held no place in his heart, not like how he held one in yours which was an upsetting realisation to come by on one of the most magical days of the year.
“I can’t believe you.” You stood to leave and you weren’t surprised when he hardly moved to try and stop you. “Where are you going?” came his halfhearted attempt at doing so.
With one last look, you turned to him. “I’m done here. I’m done with you.“
Yeosang had asked to meet you in the city later on that night. It was already prearranged. You thought of cancelling but thought being around a friend during this time would be beneficial for you and your other friends were all already busy, helping with tidying up any remaining bits and pieces from the day before. You found herself aimlessly walking around the city, watching as the snow fell onto you and onto the ground. You couldn’t help but notice couples walking with each other, hand in hand, joyfully laughing and talking to one another as if they had no care in the world. You couldn’t help the sad feeling that overcame you and hugged yourself in comfort before going on.
You finally stopped in front of the large Christmas tree in the city square and admired the warm, flashing lights decorating the white tree. A large flashing star was placed on top of it and “We wish you a Merry Christmas” tinkled on from nearby spears on either side.
It brought a tear to your eye which you quickly wiped off.
“Merry Christmas.” You turned and found Yeosang standing behind you with a large red and green box in his hands and a Santa’s hat on. You gave him a small smile and playfully rolled your eyes.
“That was yesterday, dummy.”
“I know but I never got the chance to tell you.”
You realised just how long it had been since you’d last spoken to him and your heart clenched. There was time here you wouldn’t go a day without speaking but because your boyfriend always got mad when you spoke to him, you had to cool your communication. You were glad you didn’t have to worry about that anymore because in all honesty, you really missed him. More than you could ever understand. Now that you were with him again, everything felt like it was beginning to make sense again.
He lead you to a nearby bench and you both sat down. You noticed you could still admire the Christmas lights behind you and how they illuminated a warm hue on his face—almost as if to enhance his already kind and ethereal features.
“You don’t even celebrate Christmas,” you said once you’d settled down. He shrugged and placed the box in between you. “But you do. So I’ll celebrate for you.”
“What’s this?”
“A gift.” You eyed him suspiciously before opening the box and gasped.
“It’s a foot spa.”
“Well, you mentioned how much you’d like one once so I thought I’d get it for you.” His eyes widened in slight panic. “What, did you already get it yourself?” Then they widened even more said that were possible. “What’s wrong why are you crying?”
You held the box close to you and shook your head to ease his thoughts. “It’s perfect. Thank you. I really do appreciate it, Sangie.”
You couldn’t help your giggle at the red tint brushing over his cheeks.
“You’re welcome.”
———
this christmas
“I can’t believe you still haven’t told him how you feel.” You had dragged your begrudging brother along with you to help shop for last minute Christmas gifts. You had been shopping for a good majority of the day and he’d been moaning and groaning for quite some time but you chose to ignore it—more so threatened him with not receiving his own which you’d bought already if he continued to complain.
“What are you talking about?” You looked at him quizzically before going back scouting for a gift.
“Your crush on Yeosang?” You rolled your eyes.
“Can you even call it that anymore? It’s passed that point by now.”
In retaliation, you aggressively shoved his shoulder causing him to stumble and protest about the slippery floor—which aptly you ignored.
“I do not have a crush on him,” you told him pointedly. He scoffed.
“We’ve searched high and low for the perfect Christmas gift for him. I’m sure it didn’t take you this long to find ours.”
“Well, because I know what you guys want, you won’t shut up about it. He doesn’t celebrate Christmas so I have to make sure it’s worthwhile.” You pouted before returning to the task at hand.
“Whatever you get him he’ll love it, I’m sure of it because it’s from you.”
You weren’t budging. “It has to be perfect.”
“And why exactly should it be?”
You could sense the teasing in his voice.
“It just does.”
You knew Yeosang for a little over three years now. You’d met one day through a mutual friend, Wooyoung when he’d convinced you both to attend a party. You stood in a corner, nursing your drink and waiting for the right time to go home but your plans were derailed when you found camaraderie in Yeosang. You didn’t even notice the time passing and you two have been inseparable since, something Wooyoung also never fails teasing you both about. But the possibility of you having feelings for him? You loved Yeosang. He was always so sweet and gentle with you and cared for you like no one else did. You always felt safe around him and comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him but to go as far as saying you had feelings for him? He was simply your best friend. That’s all he was. Was it?
There was a knock on the door and you immediately rushed to get it.
“Yeosang!”
He was standing on the other side, flowers in one hand and a few gift bags in the other. Your mother wasn’t too far behind you and happily greeted the new guest.
“Oh it’s lovely to see you again!”
You’d brought him over a few times before whenever you’d visit your parents and they’d now gotten accustomed to him and treated him as if he were their own. Your mother quickly ushered him in and took the gifts and flowers from him after gushing at how thoughtful he was. She gave you a teasing glance before heading to put the gifts by the tree.
“Uncle Yeosang!” your niece called as she ran inside and hugged him. Your sister and brother followed suit.
“Glad to see it’s you with her,” your sister commented.
“It’s not like that,” you mumble but your sister chose to not acknowledge your comment. It was your brother who had instead.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll take what we can get. Come join us.”
You all lead him into the living room where the rest of your family was. He greeted your father, it would be an understatement to say he’d taken a liking to him, as well as your grandmother, cousins aunts and uncles who’d joined you this year. Christmas was one of the only times where you’d all see each other so it was almost always a full house.
Whilst you helped your mother and sister in the kitchen, Yeosang helped your brother and father outside.
“My ex tried to contact me again today,” you said as you peeled carrots.
Your mother huffed. “Of course he did. You were always too good for him. I kept telling you he was a good for nothing.”
“Mom,” you groaned.
“You know she’s right. Why haven’t you blocked him already?”
“If you must know, I kind of forgot about him after our break up? He didn’t try to get in touch with me afterwards and I just kind of forgot to? I only remembered when I got the message today.”
“Whatever the case is, I thought last Christmas would be the last we hear of him. Should’ve been sooner, if you ask me. We’re on to bigger and better things now. Yeosang.” Your sister gave you a cheeky smile. You playfully nudged her but said nothing further as you continued with your allocated dish.
After dinner was ready, you all sat down to feast. You were well aware of the chosen seat for Yeosang right next to yours at the dinner table. Everyone joked and laughed with one another and you couldn’t help noticing how natural it was for him to be there and how accepting everyone seemed to be towards him.
Whenever you’d brought your ex around your family, there’d always been an underlying tension with their interactions towards him but with Yeosang, everyone seemed so cheery and open. You even stayed longer afterwards with him as you all gathered around for a game of Christmas charades, separating into two teams. You and him were on opposing teams and, unfortunately for you, he was on the winning team. He wasn’t one to outwardly gloat about winning but he couldn’t help himself from teasing you from time to time much to your chagrin. He knew you could be a sore loser and took full advantage of it.
It was finally time for everyone to say their goodbyes. You saw the rest of them out until it was finally only you, your immediate family and Yeosang left.
You and him made it outside your parents’ backyard to see they had gone all out with the Christmas decorations and lights. You lead him to a little archway where a bench sat underneath. You were aptly aware of his knee touching yours.
It was a cold December night but Yeosang had asked if you two could speak where it was just you two and you figured this was the best option where your family wouldn’t interrupt.
“My family likes you,” you said as you smiled at him and leaned against his shoulder. You could hear his own smile when he responded.
“I like your family too.” “What’s this about your mother welcoming me into your family?” You looked up to him to see he was beet red at this point but still tried to come off as playful. You excused it for the cold.
“Don’t mind her. She’s just happy to move on from any reminder of my ex in my life.”
“Does it hurt?” You leaned against him again and shook your head.
“No. Not as much as I thought it would. He tried to contact me earlier today.” There was a pause.
“And?”
“I didn’t respond. He’s not worth it.” You scrunched your nose. “Never was, was he?”
“You said it.” He held up his hands in defense which made you chuckle.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence, as comparable as two people could be in the freezing cold, and you closed your eyes as you took in the moment. You felt him shuffling underneath you which caused you to sit up and give him a quizzical look. You excused his crimson face for how cold it was but then you noticed he didn’t meet your eyes as he held a small rectangular box in his hands.
“Here,” he quickly said with what felt like great effort as if he was steeling his nerves to speak.
“What’s this?”
“Your gift.”
“Oh! I actually got you something too but it’s back in the house. I can go—“
“No, no.” He caught your arm before you made it far. “It’s fine. I’ll see it later. Open yours first.”
The determined look on his face stilled your movements as you sat back next to him and opened the box. Inside you found a necklace with a small diamond encrusted snowflake as a pendant.
“I didn’t know what I should get you so I got you this. I hope you like it.”
Your fingers ran over the snowflake and you smiled.
“It’s perfect. I love it.”
“Last Christmas was such a mess for you. I just wanted to make this one a better experience. It’s your favourite holiday and you deserve to have happy memories of it again.”
Your eyes filled up as you looked at him. Yeosang was naturally soft spoken, you knew this but in this moment it seemed he was fighting with himself to get the words out. He looked like he had more to say but struggled to find the words. You had a feeling you knew what it was but you didn’t want to give yourself any false hope. It was then you realised, you actually wanted your not-so-secret wish to come true. It was then you realised, as your heart pumped out of your chest, just how much Yeosang really meant to you.
“Sangie…”
“I really like you, y/n. I’ve liked you for a long time and I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just couldn’t go another day without letting you know how I feel.”
You knew from how fast he spoke he hadn’t fully processed what it was he’d just admitted to. Once his words caught up to him, his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. You would’ve laughed if you yourself weren’t so overcome with emotion.
Suddenly everything made sense, how he’d always been the one you’d run to, call when you needed help or even just to hear his voice, why you needed his gift to be perfect because to you he was perfect and you wanted him to know.
But you were nervous. Yeosang was so dear to you that you knew if he were to ever break your heart the way your ex did, you might not recover from it. You couldn’t bear losing him forever. If you were to take this leap with him, you had to be sure what you both had was true and not a fleeting feeling. You wished there could be a sign to aid you in your decision.
Something touched your cheek and you realised, once you’d looked up that it had began snowing again. You also noticed something above you both and smiled to yourself.
“We’re under a mistletoe,” you whispered but loud enough for him to hear. He looked up as well and noticed what you’d noticed.
“What does that mean again?” You leaned in close to him, a smile still dancing on your lips.
“It means kiss me, silly.” Yeosang cradled your face ever so gently until finally your lips met. It was as sweet and as soft as he was and with it you knew that your heart this time around was in safe hands.
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merry christmas everyone and i hope you have a wonderful new year :) 🩷
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