#the two party system is dead
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Reaching for Hope
These last few months have been filled with the most horrifying stories and images coming out of Palestine, DRC, Sudan, Yemen, and too many other places around the world. We, in the US, have seen our president- our political leaders- roll over and not only allow the atrocities to continue, but to actually financially support and arm the perpetrators, despite the majority of us screaming for them to stop. To me, there is little difference between the Democrats and the Republicans at this point. Both parties are bought and paid for by the same people. As a new presidential election is coming up, I can't in good conscious vote Democrat. Not after what I've seen. Not as long as they refuse to hear us when we tell them we don't want Genocide Joe Biden or any of his cabinet to run.
But what is the solution?
I hate the feeling of helplessness I feel. I hate watching the horrors being carried out with my tax dollars. I hate that our "leaders" are more concerned with keeping the money from groups like AIPAC than actually representing the people who voted for them. They have put my finger on the trigger and they won't let me let go.
I'm trying to figure out how to make my voice heard. I've reached out to my representatives. I've done what I can to amplify voices that need to be heard more than mine. I can't claim any special effort in following BDS boycotts because the truth is, these aren't brands I have a whole lot of intentional contact with in the first place. As for Starbucks and McDonald's, I don't like either place so, cutting them off took very little for my part. I do encourage you to avoid all of these businesses, though. I don't know what else to do.
I will not vote for Joe Biden if he runs again. I will do my best to find down ballot candidates who's values are more in line with mine, but I will not give my support to a man who sees the atrocities being committed in Palestine and gives billions and weapons to the people committing these crimes against humanity. If the DNC is smart, they will be actively looking for candidates who don't openly support genocide, but let's face it, we ALL know how smart the DNC is. So, barring some drastic change, barring the DNC running a candidate who isn't on the take from AIPAC, who will actually pull support from Israel as they try to wipe out an entire culture for the sake of oil, I will be voting third party. I'm considering voting for Claudia De la Cruz of the PSL party, but there's nearly a year left, so I'm open to shopping around.
I know there are those that will say that pulling votes away from Biden is essentially voting for Trump. I know that there are those that will say that if the Republicans take the office again, they'll gut our rights. To that, I say, a vote for Trump is a vote for Trump and a vote for Biden is a vote for Biden. If the DNC can't come up with a better candidate and a better reason to vote for them than the same fear mongering tactics they've been using for years, then Trump is the DNC's fault. What has the Democratic party done to ensure our rights? What protections for voting rights have they passed at a federal level? What protections for education? For bodily autonomy? How do we have FOURTEEN BILLION to spare for freakin ISRAEL, but nothing for public schools? Nothing for student loan relief? Nothing for public health? Police reform? What good is the Democratic party if their only real platform is "Vote Democrat because we're not that guy"? If your conscious tells you to vote for Biden in November, so be it. As for me, I can't look at the man without seeing the blood of innocent men, women and children dripping off of him.
#getting political again#free palestine#free drc#anti murdering people for oil and cobalt#anti colonialism#anti capitalism#anti democrat#anti republican#they are the same#one's just wearing a mister rogers sweater#vote third party#the two party system is dead
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The UK has a viable third party voting option: 😄
It basically only exists because they think the other two options (racism or diet racism) aren't being racist enough: 😭
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#listen y’all. i hate the two party system as much as anyone else should hate it#and i think something folks fail to grasp is instead of trying to like. ‘advocate for third party voting’ is instead#we gotta figure out how to get rid of the fucking electoral college#multiple states have instituted rank choice voting and it WORKS#more moderate candidates that appeal to an actual Majority are finding footings#instead of fucking extreme candidates that only a few people actually fully put their weight behind#the electoral college is an archaic system that no longer serves a country as diverse as the us has become#and several times in history a president has ‘won’ the election but lost the popular vote. meaning the person that ‘represents our democracy#WASN’T SUPPOSED TO#if the electoral college has no haters i am dead#focus your fucking energy on lobbying for the breakdown of the electoral college and educate yourself on why third parties never succeed#instead of just bitching that ‘everyone is brainwashed’#anyways
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if i see one more post that tells me i have to vote biden i am going to lose my mind
#THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS IS STILL FUCKING EVIL#instead of bullying people with legitimate concerns and distrust for biden maybe work on getting him to change his fucked up policies that#have done more harm than good and will continue into a second term#the way i see it democracy has long been dead in this country so at the very least im just going to focus on my local reps and third partie#because until there's a complete dismantling of this two party system than its never going to be a deomcracy#and yeah its gonna fucking suck but guess what it already fucking sucks#at least i wont have the thought that i settled for someone who supports genocide and doesnt actually give a shit#you want the democratic party to change? then you start forcing them to#not just going with this old white warmongering guy instead of that old white warmongering guy#which only contributes to making this system worse and even more broken
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I RAN OUT OF ROOM IN THE TAGS FCKN HELL
#damn that tag speaks volumes#a bitch can do both#however my issue is exactly with that kind of impact#the people in power are either vehemently connected to the real life equivalent art imitates life supervillain billionaires#or they are connected through the trickle down#they trickle down people are the ones we the people realistically have the power to influence change upon#but the big boy self proclaimed conservatives from various countries of origin#like that Australian real estate guy who tried to call for raising unemployment rates#he immediately got death threats overall I think that pr plan failed and pushed those who listened in a deeper darker room#my point being#they all party with eachother laughing next to the horrifying truths of their pleasures#Scientologists proud notz’s leading government officials we all know the scene we’ve all seen the set#we know the cast we know their type#I just truly do not believe bending over and taking it like a dog is the right move so sorry#that’s how I’m gonna feel that’s how most people feel about voting for Biden#lesser of two evils will not work forever#it’s mathematically improbable#some day some way someone like trump will win and push the boundaries of what the people define as morality#because babe that’s what’s he doing#for every wrong reason in the book terrible but great Voldemort got shit done#and that is vastly more impressive to sheep ants than nothing ever really changing ever#tiny minuscule changes that yes have significant impacts that affects thousands of underprivileged lives for hundreds of reasons#being the forced removal of indigenous children from their families to be put in the system#or of trans kids - the kids of trans parents - the never ending lies within the war on drugs - the healthcare system- public education#you’re right they do make a damn important difference#change happens everyday#but we cannot fight policy forever#why do you think a draft was ordered you really think it’s to help fight innocent Palestinians#or is it to increase numbers in an oncoming uprising of revolutionary ideals#like which one is more likely for the isolationist- unless we make money off the dead- America hmmm
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Dolly II
~ part 2 of the Dolly series
pairing: seungmin x afab!reader
genre: smut, college au
synopsis: your friends found it funny to buy you a sex doll and pose it in your bed to prank you.
wc: 7.7k
warnings: alcohol, thigh riding, handjob, cum tasting, unprotected sex, hand kink, nipple play, creampie, mentions of crying, choking, edging, spanking, hair pulling, pussy slap, oral(m), fingering
a/n: thank you @jehhskz for helping with the premise of this one🥹💕
~ maybe you'd like: Hyunjin dolly
~ divider by @bunnysrph
Another sleepless night.
Staring at your laptop screen, the letters start blurring and bleeding into one another, making the headache behind your eyes throb even more.
Exam after exam, you're becoming more jaded, feeling like you're high out of your mind when it's just lack of sleep.
As you scroll through a page you're researching for your paper, an advert pops out.
"Sex dolls?" you chuckle and click on it, even if it looks a bit shady.
You're taken to a stylish site, black background with big neon green letters asking you "What's your vibe for today?", and you scoff.
"Try dead inside." you say out loud and the letters flicker before disappearing, new text appearing on the screen, making you gasp.
"Feeling sarcastic, are we?" - it says and you shriek, quickly exiting the site and deleting the history.
How the fuck did it hear you?
Did they hack your laptop?
You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.
With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.
You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.
-
The room is totally spinning.
You are totally spinning.
You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.
You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.
They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.
"What?" you almost bark at them.
"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.
"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.
Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.
"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.
The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.
The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.
"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.
"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.
Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.
Shrugging, you make your way to your room.
Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.
One, two, three...
And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.
"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.
Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.
"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.
"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."
"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.
"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.
"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.
"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.
"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.
"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.
"Well, the six of us got some money together."
"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.
"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.
You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.
"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.
"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.
You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.
You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.
"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.
Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.
He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.
He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.
Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.
His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.
You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.
He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.
You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.
You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.
Hello,
my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.
I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.
Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.
Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.
"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.
"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.
A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.
My cutie!
I got dressed for our first date!
Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.
"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.
"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.
You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.
"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.
You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.
You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.
"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.
Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.
It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?
Maybe even more important, why?
After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.
WARNING!
If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.
The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.
Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.
Do not throw the doll into the trash.
Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.
If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.
If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.
Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!
"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.
Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.
"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.
"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.
Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.
Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.
Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.
"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.
Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.
It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.
Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.
"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."
Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.
"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.
"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.
You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.
"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.
-
It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.
You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.
Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.
"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.
"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.
For some reason, you think he might be frowning.
"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."
The doll is quiet.
"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.
"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.
After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.
As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.
It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.
It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.
Maybe it was just in your mind.
Yeah, probably.
Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.
"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.
"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.
"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.
"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.
"Feeling territorial, are we?"
"N-no!" you blush instantly.
"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.
You sigh and make your way to your room too.
"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.
As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.
You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.
"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.
Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.
"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.
You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.
Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.
For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.
You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.
"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.
Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.
It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.
Oh no.
Your favorite shirt is gone.
You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.
Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.
You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.
"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"
"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."
"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.
"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.
Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.
You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.
Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.
"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.
He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.
"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.
It was only the beginning.
A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.
You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.
You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.
Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.
Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.
It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.
Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.
In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.
Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.
Seungmin.
Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.
After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.
Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.
"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.
"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.
"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.
You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?
Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.
He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.
"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.
His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.
His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.
You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.
You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.
You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.
"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.
You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.
Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.
This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.
You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.
You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.
"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.
"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.
"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.
"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.
You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.
"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.
Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.
"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.
You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.
There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.
You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.
With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.
"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.
"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.
After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.
"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.
Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.
You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.
All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.
It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.
Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.
You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.
A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.
Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.
For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.
You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.
You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.
And you were right.
Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.
You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.
He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.
He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.
Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.
The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.
I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.
"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.
A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.
Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.
He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.
Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.
He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.
Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.
He loves you.
So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.
He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.
-
Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.
With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.
You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.
"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.
You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.
Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.
He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.
His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.
"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.
"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.
You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.
"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.
His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.
"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.
"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.
"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."
"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.
"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."
"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.
"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.
"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.
"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.
"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.
He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.
Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.
You held him tighter, making him melt into you.
Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.
"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.
"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.
"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.
"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.
He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.
All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.
"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.
He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.
You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.
Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.
"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.
"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.
You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.
"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.
"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.
The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.
He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.
Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.
Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.
When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.
"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.
He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.
He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.
Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.
"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.
"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.
"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.
"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.
"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.
"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.
"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.
He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.
"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.
All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.
You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.
You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.
You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.
"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.
"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.
You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.
"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.
You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.
"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.
"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.
"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.
Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.
You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.
His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.
"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.
"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes." you say, breathless.
Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.
"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.
"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.
"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.
Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.
You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.
Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.
"What the fuck?!"
"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.
"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.
"I woke up-"
"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.
"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.
"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.
"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."
"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.
"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.
Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.
"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.
Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.
"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.
"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.
"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."
"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.
Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.
He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.
Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.
As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.
All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.
The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.
Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.
After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.
"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.
"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.
"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.
"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"
"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.
"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.
"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.
-
"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.
He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.
"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.
"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.
"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.
You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.
You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.
Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.
"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.
You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.
You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.
"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.
It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.
Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.
You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.
You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.
"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.
You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.
"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.
Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.
Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.
"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.
He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.
"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.
"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.
"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.
Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.
He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.
You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.
When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.
"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.
Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.
"Let it." he begs.
"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.
"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"
"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.
"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"
"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.
"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.
"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.
"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.
"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"
"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."
"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.
"But-"
"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.
"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.
But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.
Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.
With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.
As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.
The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...
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Built A Fire Just To Keep Me Warm
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers
Synopsis: you and Peter are in the same friend group but never got along. That doesn’t keep him from making sure you never get cold
Masterlist
“Guys, why is it so damn cold in here?” You groaned and rubbed your arms up and down. The thought of sitting in your lecture class for the next hour with your professor with the dullest voice imaginable somehow made you even colder.
“I told you to layer up.” MJ shrugged. “But you never want to listen during layer talk. You know this guy always cracks the AC.”
“I always listen during layer talk.” Ned mumbled and threw his scarf over his shoulder.
You looked at your professor in the front of the room and then up at the vent above you.
“Why though? It’s the middle of December. My arm hairs should not be standing up.” You said and held your arm up for MJ to see.
“Maybe you should wear a jacket.” Peter interjected, making you all look at him.
“What was that?” You asked him. Ned signaled for him to stop talking but Peter had a point to make.
“I was just saying. You know this professor always has the AC on. But you always come to class in thin shirts and then complain that you’re cold.” Peter said. You sat up in your chair so you could fully face Peter and narrowed your eyes at him.
“So?”
“So,” he mimicked your tone, “You know its going to be cold in here. But you still never wear a jacket. Maybe you should put one on next time so you won’t have this problem.”
“And maybe you should mind your business. I wasn’t even talking to you.” You grumbled and slumped down in your chair. Peter watched you rubbing your arms to keep warm and rolled his eyes a little.
“You were talking to the group.” Peter pointed out. “I’m in the group. So it was my business.”
“No, I was talking to MJ.” You stated as your annoyance for him grew.
“You said “guys, why is it so damn cold in here?”. That implies you were asking all of us.” Peter corrected. Ned and MJ exchanged a look as you glared at Peter.
“Okay, but I didn’t say ‘Peter, I’m really cold. Please give me your professional opinion on how to prevent that’. I was just making an observation.”
“But that’s not really an observation though, is it?” Peter asked. “It’s a declarative statement. We were in Linguistics together. I’m surprised you don’t remember that.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Why do you have to be such a know it all?”
“I don’t know. Why do you insist on wearing the flimsiest shirts to class and then complaining that you’re cold?” Peter retorted.
“There’s about to be an active threat in this classroom.” You mumbled under your breath.
“What do you mean?” Ned asked you.
“I mean I’m about to beat Peter up.” You told him.
“Knock it off you two.” MJ warned. “Can you guys go one day without going at each other?”
“Tell Peter that. He started it.” You reminded her.
“I don’t care. I don’t want any bickering at my party tonight.” She said. “It can’t be like Friendsgiving. Because that was giving enemies instead of friends.”
“If you don’t want any fighting then you’ll have to uninvite Peter.” You told her.
“I can’t. He’s the only one with an ID. We need him for the alcohol.” MJ replied.
“I’m right here.” Peter pointed out
“Unfortunately.” You mumbled.
“Speaking of alcohol, I can’t go with him to get it.” Ned cut in. “My Lola has a sixth sense for this kind of thing. If I even look at a bottle of alcohol, she’ll know about it and strike me dead.”
“Then you’re going to have to go with him. I’ll be busy setting up.” MJ told you.
“What?” You whined. “I don’t want to go with him. Why can’t he go alone?”
“Again, right here.” Peter stated and waved his hand.
“Because of the Buddy System.” MJ answered. “Remember when we sent Ned alone to the bodega to get Sun Chips? He almost got kidnapped.”
“The only reason the man didn’t take me was because he thought my choice of chips was disgusting.” Ned whispered.
“That’s valid.” You shrugged. “I wouldn’t kidnap you either.”
“Can you guys just go together this once? For me? For little mixed drink loving old me?” MJ pleaded and held your hand to her heart.
“Fine.” You sighed and rubbed your hands up and down your arms. Peter watched you doing this and then looked up at the vent above you.
“Don’t act so excited about it.” Peter mumbled to you.
“I’m not.” You scoffed and gave him a look.
“I was being sarcastic.”
“So was I.” You said as Peter got up out of his seat.
“Where are you going?” You asked him.
“To pee. Is that allowed?” He sassed you.
“Go piss girl.” Ned called after Peter as he walked down the steps of the lecture room, earning many stares from other classmates.
“Ned, no.” MJ whispered. “That’s not relevant anymore.”
“Oh shit. Um, mama a hawk tuah diva behind you?” Ned asked to try and fix his mistake.
“Just stop while you’re ahead.” MJ replied with a pat on his knee. She then turned to you with a devious smile.
“Peter totally likes you.” She whispered.
“What?” You laughed. “No he doesn’t. We’re barely even friends. I only tolerate him since he’s friends with Ned. And I mess with Ned heavy.”
Just then, Peter came back from the bathroom and stopped at the professors desk. You watched them curiously but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. When Peter walked away from the desk, your professor went over to the thermostat and turned the AC off. You felt the vent above you stop spewing cold air just as Peter came back to where you were all sitting. He didn’t look at you but his cheeks were pink as he sat down. MJ and Ned hadn’t noticed what happened so you leaned over to him to whisper.
“Why did you do that?” You asked him.
“You said you were cold.” He shrugged, still without looking at you.
“So? Why do you care if I’m cold?”
“I don’t. I was cold too. Not everything’s about you.” He said quickly. You decided to drop it but you found the interaction strange.
Later that day, you and Peter kept a distance between you as you walked towards the nearest corner store. You had your arms folded to keep your hands warm and Peter was fighting the urge to comment on your lack of preparation for the cold.
“Do you have the list?” You asked Peter as you neared the store.
“I do. But it just says “alcohol” so we’re going in blind.” He answered. You couldn’t help but laugh at MJ’s lack of instructions as you rubbed your arms up and down. Peter noticed this and was about to offer his jacket when you reached the store. Instead, he held the door for you and you smiled in surprise.
“Thanks. Let’s just get what we need and get out of here.” You said, feeling awkward now as you walked past him into the store. You were never really alone with him so you weren’t expecting him to be so civil. You split up and went down each isle to collect a few token party items. As you browsed, you kept feeling Peter’s eyes on you but you never looked up to check.
“They don’t have MJ’s favorite vodka here. She’s gonna kill us if we don’t come back with it.” Peter came up to you to tell you.
“Damn. We could try the store two blocks down. They usually have it.”
“All right. Let’s go.” Peter said and nodded towards the door. As you started to walk to the next store, the frigid New York air hit you and sent a chill through your entire body. You shuddered and blew hot air on your hands before holding your arms to keep warm.
“Are you cold?” Peter asked you.
“Of course I’m cold. It’s brick out here.”
“How come you never wear a jacket if you’re always cold?” He asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, just curious.
“Because I thought we were just running to the store by the dorms. I didn’t think I’d need one.” You replied. Peter fought every instinct in his body that told him to stay silent and unzipped his jacket.
“Take mine.” He offered and held it out to you.
“What?” You laughed in surprise. “No way.”
“Come on. Don’t be stubborn. You’re freezing. Just take it.”
“I’m not taking your jacket. I’m fine.” You insisted and continued to shiver.
“Just take the damn jacket.” He sighed and put it over your shoulders. You wanted to be stubborn, but you more so wanted to be warm. You gave him a look and slipped your arms into his jacket. You instantly felt better and smiled a little at your new protection from the cold. Peters jacket hung a little big on you but kept you perfectly warm.
“Thank you.” You said timidly. “But aren’t you cold?”
“Nah.” He waved his hand. “I run hot.”
You had reached the next store by that point and he opened the door for you once again. You flashed him a quick smile and went inside to get the drinks for MJ. You found it quickly and joined him at the cash register.
You hugged Peter’s jacket tightly around you as you walked back to the dorms together. He felt better now that he wasn’t watching you freeze to death and you felt better now that you were safe from the bitter wind. You dropped Peter off at the boys dorm before going back to yours and MJs room. As soon as you walked in, you were hit with a familiar scent that made you suspicious. You looked around the dorm until you found what you were looking for.
“Oh, hey. You’re back.” MJ smiled when she found you.
“What’s this?” You asked and pointed to the mistletoe taped to the ceiling of the kitchen.
“Nothing.” MJ said quickly. “It’s basil.”
“You have basil taped to the ceiling?” You asked skeptically.
“I’m Italian.” She shrugged.
“No you’re not. I’ve eaten pasta you’ve made. It was like chewing a pen cap. There’s no Italian in that blood.”
“You got me. It’s mistletoe.” She admitted. “Arranged beautifully due to my floral arrangement class, may I add. I hung it incase you wanted to kiss any boys tonight.”
“I knew it. You’re still trying to set me up with Peter. It’s never going to work so give up now. Now matter how much basil you hang up.” You said and snatched the mistletoe down.
“You fight it but my lesbian instincts tell me that you guys are meant to be.” MJ said and held her hands up in defense. “And you better hang that back up because that was my only bushel of mistletoe.”
“The same lesbian instincts that made us get on that bus to Long Island? I can never un-go to Long Island, MJ. You did that to us.”
“It was dark. All the buses looked the same.” She defended herself. “But trust. My instincts are right about this one.”
“They’re not.” You stated. “I don’t like Peter like that. I don’t even like him as a friend.”
“Okay. Sure. I believe you. Nice jacket, by the way.” She smirked before walking away. You looked down and remembered you were wearing Peter’s beat up winter jacket. You quickly followed her into the kitchen area to continue the conversation.
“That doesn’t mean anything. I was cold.”
“Yeah. I bet he was too. Especially after he gave you his jacket.” She said smugly.
“He said he runs hot.” You insisted.
“Yeah. Hot for you. Ayo.” She grinned and held up her hand for a high five.
“That’s not getting a high five.” You said flatly. “There better not be any more surprises. Don’t try to intervene tonight, okay? Peter and I would never work.”
“I thought you said you and Peter would never happen. Now you’re saying it just wouldn’t work? Sounds like someone’s having a change of heart.” MJ clicked her tongue as she finished setting up for the party.
You rolled your eyes at her and didn’t respond as you helped her put out snacks. While setting a bowl of chips out on the table, you caught a whiff of Peter’s cologne coming off the jacket. You instinctively smiled at the scent before you caught yourself. You had never thought about it before, but now that MJ put the idea in your head, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeper reason that you and Peter never got along.
An hour later, the party was in full swing. You made your rounds and greeted people as you filled their cups up some more. You would never admit it, but you were a little disappointed to not see Peter in the crowd yet. MJ noticed you searching the room every so often and took a place by your side.
“Looking for Peter?” She asked with a smug expression.
“What? No. Like I care if that doink shows up. I’m looking for Ned. He’s supposed to bring the…. Sun Chips.” You lied to cover up what you were really doing.
“Right, right. Of course. And how do you feel about Sun Chips?” She asked sarcastically.
“I need some air.” You said quickly and walked away from her. To get away from the crowd, you went out to your room and crawled out the window to sit on the roof. You hugged Peter’s jacket tightly around yourself and stared up at the night sky. The sound of the party coming through your open window sounded a million miles away. You drew your knees to your chest and rested your chin on them as the cold wind sent a chill through your body.
“Hey.” You heard behind you, making you turn around. You saw Peter coming through your bedroom window and come join you on the roof. You got a new feeling in your chest as he sat beside you.
“Hey.” You smiled softly at him. He returned the smile before an awkward silence settled between the two of you. You didn’t know how to interact after he was nice to you on your trip to the store.
“Thanks for walking through my bedroom with your dirty converse on.” You said to break the silence.
“Like my shoes were the dirtiest thing in that room. I’m pretty sure I saw a rat eating your homework.” He mumbled. You stared at each other as you both tried to read the situation. You were bickering like usual, but there was a playful sense to it this time.
“That’s just our third roommate, dummy.” You replied, adding to the teasing nature of the conversation.
“Ah, I see.” Peter chuckled before looking down shyly. The awkward silence returned but you found yourself hoping he didn’t leave.
“How come you’re out here? You’re not having fun?” He asked after a beat.
“It got a little overwhelming in there. I needed some alone time.”
“Oh, I could go.” He offered and went to stand up.
“You could stay.” You said and stopped him from getting up by placing your hand over his. You watched Peter turn bright red so you quickly withdrew your hand. It was quiet again and you both looked anywhere but each other.
“How come you’re not in there with Ned and all them? Didn’t you just get here?” You asked to break the silence.
“Oh, yeah. Ned and I just got here. But I walked by your room and I saw the window open. I was going to close it until I saw you out here.” He answered a little too quickly.
“Why were you by my room? The party is in the kitchen area.” You wondered. Peter was flushed again and a smile tugged at your lips.
“Were you looking for me?” You asked in a quiet voice. Before Peter could deny the allegations, a gust of wind hit the two of you. You shivered and rubbed your hands together to stay warm.
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked you.
“You know what’s wrong.” You said with a slight roll of your eyes. Instead of pointing out that you were purposefully outside on the chilly roof, Peter took both your hands in his. You watched him curiously as he rubbed his hands up and down yours to generate heat. It occurred to you both at the exact same time that this was the first time you’d ever touched. You locked eyes with him and thought he’d let go, but he instead leaned down to blow some hot air on your hands to warm you up.
“Thanks.” You said softly. “That feels better.”
“You’re welcome.” He said in just as timid of a voice. The awkwardness returned and you turned away from each other to avoid it.
“I’m sorry about before. In class, I mean. It was none of my business. You can wear whatever you want.” Peter said after a minute.
“It’s fine.” You waved your hand. “Maybe you kinda sorta possibly had a point. I knew it would be cold. I should’ve worn a jacket. Besides, we always go at each other like that. Don’t be sorry.”
“You’re right. We do always fight.” He agreed. “Do you ever wonder why?”
“Oh, um. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I assumed that’s just how we are.”
“Yeah, it is.” He nodded. “But how did it start? Did we just meet one day and decide we hated each other? I was trying to think about it the other day but I couldn’t remember.”
“Well, I remember MJ telling me she made a friend in her floral arrangement class. Which I told her not to take, by the way.”
“I told Ned the same thing.” Peter sighed. “I said it was a waste of time and credits. He didn’t listen. But he did make me a beautiful bouquet for my birthday.”
“MJ failed so she got me a gift card to Staples.” You replied, making Peter laugh.
“Why Staples?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure she found it on the ground.”
“Did you ever use it?” He asked.
“I did. And guess what I got.”
“Staples?”
“Yep.” You nodded, making him laugh again. You never realized it before, but Peter had the kind of laugh that made you want to say the most random things just to hear it again. His eyes crinkled when he laughed or smiled, another thing you hadn’t noticed before.
“I remember Ned introducing me to MJ, and then MJ introduced me to you. But I don’t remember how our dynamic started and why we fight all the time.”
“Hm.” You hummed. “It’s funny.”
“What is?” He wondered.
“The one time we’re alone together is the one time we’re not fighting.” You pointed out.
“You’re right.” He smiled shyly. “Funny.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward this time. You felt like you were talking to a completely different person than who Peter usually was. This version of Peter didn’t get under your skin or make you roll your eyes. This version was sweet and warmed you up from the cold.
“You kept my jacket.” Peter pointed out, making you flush in embarrassment.
“Oh, you can have it back.” You said and went to take it off.
“No, no. It’s okay. I want you to keep it.” He insisted and pulled it back around you. For extra measure, he zipped it up to your chin before patted both your arms. You smiled at the action and tilted your head down so the jacket would cover your chin.
“It looks better on you anyway.” He added without looking at you. You picked your head up and looked at him but he was busy fussing with the her of his shirt.
“Thanks. It’s really warm.” You said in a soft voice.
“Good. You need it. You’re always cold. And never prepared.”
“We can’t all be hot.” You replied. “Run hot, I mean.”
“Did you just call me hot?” Peter asked with a devious smile.
“Shut up.” You groaned. “You know what I meant.”
“I wish I had your problems. My hands are always sweating because I’m always so hot.” Peter said as he looked at his hands.
“Gross.” You grimaced. “Keep that to yourself.”
Peter looked sad as he didn’t realize you were joking. You found yourself feeling bad that you hurt his feelings despite all the times you intentionally tried to hurt them.
“I was just kidding. Let me feel.” You quickly assured him and took his hand. You ran your fingertips along his palm to see what he was talking about while Peter stayed perfectly still. You let out a soft laugh which sent chills up Peter’s spine.
“What do you think?” He asked in a quiet voice.
“It’s like touching a Swedish fish that’s been in a toddlers hand for too long.” You replied, making him laugh as well.
“Thank you. That was a really lovely description.”
“Seriously, how do you walk around with these things? Do girls ever complain when you hold hands?” You wondered as you slipped your hand into his. He instinctively rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand as the comfortable silence returned. You stayed like that for a moment, holding each others hand on the cold rooftop. The only warmth Peter had was from your hand so he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
“Aha! Holding hands!” MJ suddenly exclaimed from behind you. And was standing in your room and pouting at you through your open window. You turned around and quickly dropped Peter’s hand.
“What? No we’re not.” You scoffed and stood up. Peter felt an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him as you left the roof to follow MJ. It hurt him that you were so quick to drop his hand and deny what was happening, and even quicker to leave him.
“Lesbian instincts.” MJ said as she tapped the side of her head.
“Shut up. We weren’t holding hands.” You insisted as you led her back towards the party.
“I may be a little drunk right now but I know what I saw.” She stated. “And you can’t deny something I saw with my own two eyes.”
“What did she see?” Ned asked as he came to your side.
“Nothing.” You said quickly. “She didn’t see anything.”
“Nothing except her and Peter practically having full on intercourse out on the roof.” MJ replied, making Ned gasp.
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “We were not doing that. We were just holding hands.”
“So you admit it!” She clapped her hands at the confession and nearly fell over.
“Girl, how are you so drunk already?” You asked her. “The party only started an hour ago.”
“Not the point.” MJ held up a hand. “Why were you and Peter holding hands? I thought you hated each other?”
“Peter doesn’t hate her.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous. You were about to question what made him sound so sure when you realized you had left Peter out on the roof. You left MJ and Ned behind and quickly ran back to your room. The window was shut but Peter was nowhere to be found. Guilt building up in your stomach now, you went back out to the party and searched the crowd for him. When you didn’t see him anywhere, you went back to the kitchen to find Ned.
“Did Peter come in here? I can’t find him.” You asked him.
“You just missed him.” Ned answered. “He said he wasn’t feeling well so we wasn’t going to head back to our dorm.”
“He left?” You asked sadly. You looked at your front door before looking at MJ for help. She tapped the side of your head again and you knew what you had to do.
You ran out to the hall but didn’t see Peter anywhere. The hum of the elevator gave you an idea where he might be. You got to the elevator just in time to see the doors closing. Without thinking, you wedged yourself in between them to get them to open back up. They bounced off either side of your body but opened up enough for you to get inside. Peter caught you as you stumbled in and helped you stand up straight.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?” He asked as you held your aching body.
“I think I just went down a cup size.” You wheezed out.
“Why didn’t you just tell me to hold the door?” Peter asked through a laugh.
“There was no time.” You waved your hand. “I had to talk to you. You’re leaving?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m not much for parties.” He lied.
“Neither am I.” You told him as you stared into his eyes. He stared back and you could see a sadness in them that you knew was probably your fault.
“Before you go, I just wanted to apologize for before. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “We did look pretty incriminating.”
“We did.” You agreed. “And MJ was thrilled to see it. She has this dumb idea that we only pretend to hate each other to cover up the fact that we like each other.”
“She thinks that? Wow. That’s quite a theory.” Peter said as a blush painted his face a warm pink.
“Right? I don’t know where she gets it.” You shook your head and slid down the wall of the elevator. Peter decided to see the situation out and sat down beside you. Neither of you had pressed any buttons so the elevator stayed in place.
“Ned has a similar theory, actually.” Peter told you. “He thinks I’m totally in love with you and I don’t know how to express it outside of teasing you or making sure you’re warm.”
The silence that followed Peter’s statement was almost more incriminating than the hand holding. In your head, you replayed every time he had done something to keep you warm. Just the week before, Peter had wordlessly dropped a blanket beside you during a movie night at his dorm. Another time, he insisted you drank the tea he brought to class because he decided he didn’t like it anymore but didn’t want it to go to waste.
“Also quite a theory.” You said to break the silence. “But wait, if you run hot, how come your dorm has been perfectly toasty everytime MJ and I came over this winter?”
“It’s not usually like that.” He admitted. “But I take out the space heater when you and MJ come over because I know you get cold easily.”
“Oh. Well thank you.”
“For the teasing?”
“For keeping me warm.” You corrected. Peter flushed again and looked down at his lap.
“It’s all right. Winter will be over in a month. You won’t need me to keep you warm anymore. Then we’ll go back to being enemies.” He said without looking at you. You could hear a sadness in his voice and moved a little closer to him.
“You’re not my enemy. I just never really liked you.” You admitted.
“Yeah. I had a feeling. But how come?” He asked with genuine curiosity.
“Well, because I got the feeling that you never really like me either.” You shrugged. “Once our friend groups merged, you and I were just kinda there. We never really gelled like Ned and I or you and MJ.”
“Yeah, we didn’t.” He agreed. “The only times we would talk to each other is when we were fighting or something. That’s the only reason I kept teasing you.”
“Because you wanted to talk to me?” You smiled teasingly. Peter didn’t smile back and just stared into your eyes.
“I didn’t know how to talk to you.” He said quietly. “I never wanted us to fight. But if we didn’t, then we would never talk. And I really, really wanted to talk to you.”
The way you had felt about Peter just that morning had completely changed for the better. You were now hanging on his every word and desperate to hear what he had to say next. You turned a little to face him better and tilted your head to the side.
“What did you want to say?” You asked him. Peter’s eyes darted around your face and eventually landed on your lips.
“That I think you’re really cool. And really pretty. And really smart. Even though you never wear a-“
“Don’t say it.” You cut him off by leaning in the rest of the way and kissing him. Peter turned his body so that he could slip a hand in your hair to kiss you back. He took the chill right out of your bones as he kissed you as if he’d been waiting his entire like to do so. You pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and kissed him until you ran out of breath. He had a dreamy smile on his face when you pulled away. You smiled shyly and sat back down on the elevator floor. Peter started to sniff the air suddenly and looked around.
“Do you smell basil?” He asked. Your smile dropped and you looked up to find the source of the smell. Sure enough, taped to the ceiling of the elevator was a makeshift mistletoe MJ had crafted out of basil and ribbon.
“Freaking lesbian instincts.” You muttered and stood up to snatch the basil down.
Tag list 🏷️ 🧥
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#peter parker enemies to lovers#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x y/n#peter parker x y/n
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(sorry in advance for the more personal ask, you're the most intelligent person i know of when it comes to these things)
genuinely, how are we supposed to find the strength to go on? it feels like capitalism has won. only a few decades ago my country was openly and proudly socialist, and now we're nothing but an american military base with an economy. everything's been privatised, the unions are broken, the people are starving, and we keep voting for more of this! people are gleefully begging for yet more exploitation! sometimes it feels there's not a drop of class consciousness to be found in the entire country, and that it's pointless to even hope for change. how can i stay sane?
The class struggle is not a team sport which either side can win or lose. It is a historical and economic process, one that's inevitable. As long as capitalism exists, there will be a social majority of workers it must exploit, alienation will still happen, and a portion of these workers will be aware of this fact. The class struggle is also a long process, one that, most of the time, is imperceptible to the individual in physical and time scale. Only sometimes, it accelerates to dizzying speeds and the conditions necessary for taking power are met. We can talk about victories and defeats, but we can't lose sight of the fact that those "only" are points in time, momentaneous advances or retreats in the process that is the class struggle, but they never mean the paralization of this process.
We can only really talk about the bourgeoisie taking power and creating the first properly capitalist states in the late 18th century and early 19th, but the bourgeoisie had lead or taken part in attempts at or glimpes of revolution as far back as the early 16th century. The bourgeoisie never really had an unifying theory of the class struggle, most were never really fully conscious of it. But they still eventually took power, once the development of the national economies advanced so far that it forced the replacement of the feudal mode of production, the bourgeois revolutions became inevitable. Marx and Engels only ever saw one real attempt at the proletariat taking power, in the Paris Commune of 1871, but it only ever lasted a few months. They both were long dead when the first actually (relatively) long-lasting instance of the proletariat in power broke the oppressor classes' veneer of invincibility.
When Marxists talk of inevitability it is not in a conspiratorial manner, or an expression of satisfied optimism, we never mean that "one day the capitalists will get what's coming to them", in a vague way. We mean that, only if communists continue to work towards the revolutionary organization of our class, is a complete overthrow of capitalism inevitable. We should all do an exercise is historical perspective when it comes to analyzing progress, take the Marx and Engels example from the previous paragraph, they never got to see an effective application of their theories. Class consciousness will fluctuate continuously, it always has. The bolshevik party in 1913 had nothing to do with the party that lead the October Revolution, and 8 years after the defeat of the 1905 revolution, I bet many felt like their work was hopeless. My point is that, while the borders of the Communist Party may shrink, grow, or even disappear, and while we might be savagely oppressed, no system of oppression has ever lasted forever.
When it comes to revolutions, there are objective and subjective conditions. The objective we can never control; it's the stability of capitalism, the characteristics of its suprastructure, if there is a crisis or not. The subjective is what's under our control; our own work as communists, the state of the revolutionary party, the degree of influence of communists at the core of the working class. These two sets of conditions interact with one another, with the objective conditions influencing the possibility of development of the subjective conditions much more than the reverse. What makes you hopeless is in part the objective conditions. Capitalism is quite stable right now (though not as much as it ever seems), and, for now, we can't do much about it, because the subjective conditions, the other part of your homelessness, are also very delayed. But these we do have control over, at first very little, but as they improve, the control we have over them also increases. Essentially, friend, all we can do is prepare our class, do our best to gain more workers to our cause, bit by bit, so that once capitalism shows one of its cracks, we can be ready to pry those cracks open and bust the whole system. The Russian soldiers in WW1 were already discontent when the bolsheviks began to agitate up to the trenches, Mao's guerrillas grew to an army taking advantage of the deep fragmentation China suffered throughout the first half of the century, etc.
Once again, class struggle is not a straight line that we move in two directions. It is a complex space. The overthrow of the USSR was a very profound blow to revolutionary organizations all around the world, of course, but the state of communism in general in 1995 was still in a much better position than it was merely 90 years prior. Every defeat also sharpens the tactics and strategies we use. Eastern Europe (where I assume you're from) did use to be socialist, and those worker's states were overthrown. But you are still in a better position than a communist in the interwar period, facing borderline fascistic dictatorship and a future of Nazi-Fascist occupation. They did not have any precedent or much practical experience to learn from, but you do. Every day that we delay work, even in the most hopeless of contexts, is a day more that our grandchildren will have to bear in capitalism, and a day more they're deprived of true freedom and self-government
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It's amazing to me just how good the Mormon church has been at hiding just how bad they really are from public view. Even the shit that gets spread around is the relatively harmless bullshit. They had a crazy prophet with magic glasses. They believe in god-mandated polygyny. They think everyone who is good enough will get their very own planet after the world ends. They wear magic underpants. Mormon men are all paladins.
Here's one of the ones you hear less often:
See, like many other Christian sects, the Mormons really do believe that the existence of Christ obviates the existence of Judaism. Judaism was just a placeholder until the "real" church could be established by Jesus.
And the Mormons in particular believe, dead ass, that the entire inheritance of Israel has been given to them, because the Jews failed to recognize the Messiah when he was on Earth. They really do. They have this whole system where people are given a "divine revelation" about which of the Tribes of Israel they're a member of (don't worry, they decided that most people belong to the two tribes that are willing to "adopt" people. Only the most specialest boys and girls are members of the original ten).
Let's sum up so far. The Mormons believe that they are the people of Israel, chosen and protected by God. If Jews want to get back in on that party, they can always repent and convert to Mormonism, the one true church to which God gave all the rights and blessings that were originally bestowed on Abraham's house.
But it doesn't stop there!
The Mormons also believe, in all seriousness, that all Indigenous peoples of the Americas are descended from a small group of Jewish people who left just before the fall of Jerusalem (~600 bc iirc). Their entire weird-ass extra bible is a chronicle of those people's history in [unspecific part of America]. At the very beginning of the book, two brothers in the original family turn away from god, so they and all their descendants are cursed with dark skin, so that the good Nephites (who remain "white and delightsome") will always be able to tell themselves apart from the wicked Lamanites.
So, you've got supposedly Jewish people running around the Americas. And the "good" ones are white, and the "bad" ones are brown. Then, ofc, Jesus comes to visit them (I guess supposedly that's part of what he was doing during his dirt nap? Or possibly after he left again, it's not clear), and they all convert to Christianity, which they think is clearly the natural evolution of Judaism. Well, at the end of the book, all of them become wicked, in a kind of weird pseudo-apocalyptic series of events. They are all cursed with dark skin, until such time as they repent for their ancestors sins and return to the gospel.
But of course, Mormons being the good and kind people they are, they want everyone to receive the blessings of God and be brought into the houses of Israel etc etc. And it isn't the fault of those poor little Indigenous children that their distant ancestors turned away from God and became wicked.
So what's the natural answer? Well, Mormons are real big on missionary work, as we all know. But apparently that wasn't enough in this case.
Because the Mormon church has been one of the big players in abducting as many Indigenous children as possible, in order to indoctrinate them into being good Mormons, so that they can turn white again and be blessed. My mother remembers hearing talks about this in the 70s and 80s. The church literally had a "Lamanite Adoption Program," where families in the church were encouraged to get as many Indigenous children as possible away from their families and not let them be reunited until they were fully assimilated and ready to go back and proselytize about how wonderful the church is.
The church leadership literally talked about how wonderful it was to see these children becoming whiter. Actually whiter. Like, saying that when they finally saw them with their families again, it was beautiful how much paler they were.
I'm pretty sure this program has been officially ended, but it doesn't take a genius to speculate about who might be behind the curtains on the movement in the western US to gut the ICWA....
So yeah. Next time someone tries to tell you that the Mormons are just harmless weirdos, please remember that they're an antisemitic cult that advocates for the forced assimilation of Indigenous children to help them escape the cursed brown skin of their ancestors.
#cw mormonism#mormons#exmo#and this is still barely scratching the surface of how fucked up that organization is
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That encounter joke Anon is wrong. Every 5e GM I've ever met went the route of "one fight per day oh my boss is already dead accutally he has 50 more hitpoints and now here's 2 more minions now the fight is properly exciting and dramatic" and the lack of a poker face meant we all knew.
How do you feel about that kind of rewriting, anyway?
For context, none of the GMs ever admitted to this on the LFG posts, or the pitches, etc.
I'm not opposed to it on principle. Ultimately I do think it's a bit like "oh so you're shifting the goalposts when it seems like the party is winning the encounter more easily than you think they should have," but ultimately that's just a maladaptive response to a different issue. Which is, once again, people trying to run D&D as a game it very much is not.
D&D isn't a game of epic bossfights where characters snatch victory from the jaws of defeat after an extended combat encounter. It can produce such encounters but they will usually emerge incidentally, not naturally. D&D is ultimately a game of attrition, of managing character resources through the course of an extended period, and even though D&D 5e's actual expectations of what an adventuring day is supposed to look like are whack D&D 5e does support a type of gameplay that relies on managing resources over an adventuring day much better than it does "a single epic setpiece encounter per day."
Because ultimately D&D is at its best when it's about weaponized player agency and system mastery, and in modern D&D this sometimes manifests as "the party knew they were going up against a lich so utilizing everything they know about liches they kicked that guy's ass in two turns." Now that would be really anticlimactic if the GM had set that encounter up as narrative culmination of a campaign that had been leading up to this moment for two years. But if you take it as "just one more encounter in the story of a bunch of assholes trying to grow stronger and more epic" then it's just a moment of those characters getting to flex for a moment.
Now of course adjusting the stats of a monster on the fly is sort of a problem in that it goes against the game and thus undermines player expression within the game. When the group pulls off a cool trick that immediately deals a million points of damage to the dragon's dick and you say "oh actually the dragon had two million hit points" then you're ultimately undermining player expression. I don't think this makes someone a bad GM because the motivation behind it is usually to provide a more entertaining experience for the group, but it is a sign of a GM fighting against the system and not knowing what it does, and they and their group would probably be better served by another game. And given that players won't necessarily know that happened it maintains the illusion that the game does produce that type of encounter.
My advice? As a GM, be honest: "hey, I didn't think you all would one-shot that boss. Are you okay if we add a bit more HP to that thang?" And if this is a consistent issue of the game not producing the type of experience the group wants they should ultimately look for a different game.
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Well you see, turning people against a candidate is only done by people who don't want you to vote for that candidate. So they used their critical thinking skills to infer that you don't want people to vote for Biden.
This kind of tactic is used primarily by right wingers trying to disenfranchise people and screw them over, and progressive people who don't understand how our current two party system works and think we can achieve radical change, i.e. a revolution, in the mere months before the election. So they very charitably assumed that you are ignorant instead of malicious, and drew the reasonable conclusion that you believe in revolution instead of voting. With that in mind, they tried to make you understand that revolution just isn't feasible right now, because there isn't currently the kind of national widespread support for immediate and radical change that's necessary for it to succeed. (One way you can tell is that everyone who's fed up with the state of our country and the Democratic party can't even agree on who's the worse candidate, apparently, despite one of them very clearly being worse.)
Questioning people on how they plan to put their vague and abstract ideas into actual practice is a quick and simple way to make people actually think about what they're doing, and hopefully sway them towards more realistic and actionable plans that don't result in a dictator coming into power with all his cronies.
Hope this explanation helps!
Good job gang
#vote#and until we can implement tiered voting and get rid of the electoral college and divest from a two party system#vote blue#the parties are not the same#and anyone who tells you they are is at best an unwitting tool for people who want you dead#i for one will struggle to participate in the glorious revolution bc my dad and i need medication to survive#which requires medical infrastructure
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Tim reviews Jason's operations management and makes a suggestion.
"Your first move: hire a head of sanitation," Tim said.
"You think a janitor's gonna solve my suddenly-successful-startup problems? What, by sweeping them away?" Jason rolled his eyes.
Tim steepled his fingers. “The good news,” he said, “is that your drug distribution and community norms enforcement hierarchy is very clear. You also have people doing marketing, program management, HR, facilities, and admin. Your system of rotating duties when people get injured isn’t bad—people generally benefit from cross-training—but you should formalize the top positions and compensate your new leadership team. Including sanitation.”
“Sure, sure, I'll just tell one of my guys their job is to be head shit-scrubber instead of a badass neighborhood protector!" Jason threw up his hands.
Tim raised his eyebrows.
“It’s bad enough getting them to clean up a crime scene when they’re on my literal shit list! A couple of them thought that lighting the building on fire was an easier way to get it to stop smelling bad and having DNA. Guess who had to add five new slides to his powerpoint about evidence disposal?" Jason glared.
Tim grimaced. "I had an intern in the office who thought that he could just throw trash off his desk for the cleaning staff to pick up."
He and Jason shared a commiserating look that silently said, We were both stupid enough to work with the League of Assassins, and even we wouldn't do that.
“Anyway," Tim continued, "since you're dealing with...that...you can just hire an outside party. Lots of people in Gotham know how to clean up dead bodies and keep their mouths shut. I can advertise the position and send you the likeliest candidates for an interview. I’ll have to incorporate you, of course, but I’ve had the paperwork ready since I got back from the Middle East.”
“Incorporate me?”
“Red Hood LLC, technically."
Jason's breathing became calculatedly even.
"Once you’re legit in the eyes of the law, we can work on squaring away everyone’s taxes and keep you from getting Capone’d.”
“I’m as legit as one of Two-Face’s two-dollar bills!”
“Yeah, but when you’re an LLC, all your crimes are white-collar crimes, and no one cares about those.” Tim shrugged.
“...Pretty sure that’s not how that works, bud.”
“It’s how the court of public opinion works. And if anyone tries to say that Red Hood, CEO of Red Hood LLC, and Red Hood, notorious vigilante, are the same person? Tell them to prove it. So what if you have the same outfit? It’s a free country and people can wear what they want. And if they ever get your DNA results, Oracle says no they didn't.”
Jason tilted his head and started smiling. "You want Red Hood to be the Scarlet Pimpernel and Percy Blakeney. At the same time."
"The more blatant you are about it, the better. Rub elbows with Gotham's elite and tell them that you can't imagine why someone would let a Crime Alley vigilante ruin their ability to wear a red hood as a fashion statement, but in your company, people have spines. Especially when they're job creators. If you play your cards right, red headgear will be back in fashion."
"And then?"
"And then," Tim's eyes gleamed, "you start selling merch."
"Oh, shit." Jason's smile turned into a full-on smirk.
"On a sliding scale, of course."
"Those nepo babies are gonna pay me so much money to look cool."
Tim smiled. "And that's how hiring a head shit-scrubber is going to mitigate your high growth and cash flow problems."
#castillon writes#batfam#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#is Tim also doing this because he wants backup at fancy galas. maybe!#is he also ALSO doing this because then Red Hood will hire local artists and it will give Jason and Damian an excuse to Bond Over Art#could be!#is he also also ALSO doing this because he wants to see Bruce's face#definitely#is he also also also ALSO doing this because Hood's crime scenes smell bad and Tim's the one who has to investigate them?#shhhh. listen. it's a service to all of Gotham at this point.
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i am asking this in good faith
If the Bosnian Genocide is has been ruled a genocide and the death count was 33,071 people, how is what is happening in Gaza not a genocide when the number has been surpassed
Because genocide is not about the number of people being killed. Genocide is a specific legal term, and it has to have two components: 1) obviously people have to be murdered -- but this must be done systemically, as a policy (either written or unwritten) of the belligerent party. AND 2) there has to be genocidal intention to murder said people. Genocidal intention means that Party A (Israel) murders Party B (Palestinians) specifically because those people belong to Party B (Palestinians). There is no evidence that Israel has a genocidal intention. In fact, the October 7th massacre was actually a genocidal act on behalf of Hamas - Hamas committed the genocidal action and has been committing genocidal actions for over 20 years, because they specifically want to murder Jews for being Jewish. They also meet the first criteria because this is a systemic policy that is present in the Hamas Charter.
This is very important to distinguish because whilst genocide is a war crime, not all war crimes are genocide. Israel has committed war crimes, including murdering civilians, and even intentionally allowing civilians to be killed (such as bombing a house with a Hamas member in it and killing his family members). But this is not sufficient to rise to the criteria of genocide. We could make the argument that there is ethnic cleansing, because the vast majority of the people being evacuated are of a single ethnicity, Palestinian. However, again, ethnic cleansing alone is not sufficient to rise to the definition of genocide.
Crucially, the ICJ has not ruled that there is a genocide ongoing. They have ruled prima facie that 1) South Africa has the right to accuse Israel of genocide, and 2) that the ICJ itself is fit to hear and rule on the accusation. They have also ordered Hamas to release the civilian hostages, so if Hamas is saying they want to abide by the ICJ, they have already disregarded the ICJ ruling.
Genocide is not based on vibes. It's not based on bad feelings. It's not based on videos and images of dead kids, or destroyed rubble. Genocide is a specific legal term that can only be applied to the above scenario, and it cheapens our language when we levy it in circumstances where it does not apply. It especially cheapens our language when we engage in Holocaust inversion by claiming Israel is doing to Palestine what Germany did to the Jews, which is categorically false.
Beyond this, it belittles the groups that are involved in this conflict, particularly Hamas, to treat them like they are innocent civilians when they are in fact a very well-outfitted military brigade and the official armed forces of the Gazan government with over 40,000 fighters strong, who repeatedly and loudly say "death to Israel, we want to annihilate Israel, we will commit October 7th again and again until Israel is destroyed." They are being funded by the IRGC, they are being used as a proxy for Iran, and innocent Palestinian civilians are suffering as a result. Hamas has openly said that the "blood of martyrs fuels our resistance," they have openly said they hope Palestinian civilians die in droves while they steal aid and resell it at absurd mark-ups, while they flee to Egypt and Qatar so that they don't have to get their hands dirty. They recruit and brainwash young children to fight their "holy war" to murder as many Jews as possible.
And in terms of the death toll, you have to understand that this war is being fought in an urban environment where the belligerents are embedded purposely in the civilian population, in tunnels all throughout the civilian infrastructure. Violating the Geneva Conventions by using hospitals and schools as military bases, refusing to wear uniforms, and intentionally shooting their own people and blaming Israel.
These people even play tapes pretending to be hostages shouting in Hebrew "don't shoot," which is one of the reasons why a hostage was accidentally killed by the IDF, which is then turned around to show how evil the IDF is without understanding the context that these events happen in. In normal urban warfare the ratio of civilian to combatant death is around 9:1. In Gaza, the ratio is, according to Hamas's own numbers, 4:1. Literally twice as low as the average. So, yeah. War crimes are happening. Yes. Absolutely. Genocide is not happening, at least, it's not happening to the Palestinians.
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Hands down one of my worst experiences in high school was when the seniors decided to extort the entire school by using tactics that were banned by the UN to get them to pay for the senior party! If that sounds like a wild sentiment stay tuned because this shit got crazy.
I was living in Arizona at the time and I was a freshman. Our campus was largely open air, with walks between class room buildings and some covered outdoor tables. Our event began with a morning announcement. The seniors were collecting donations for the senior party, and when they reached their goal, their fundraising method would stop.
Their fundraising method:
To pipe the entire schools speakers with "If You're Happy and You Know It" on loop. To this day, I cannot hear this song without experiencing a degree of rage and madness that is frankly alarming. One of the worst parts of the entire thing was that the recording they chose had the female singer do a little clap and say "Yay-ha-hey," at the end. So it wasn't just the song, it was this awful little cooldown stinger at the end.
If this sounds a lot like psychological torture you'd be extremely correct! This practice has been banned in some countries, but the good old US hasn't ruled it a human rights violation, and what a fun silly way to raise money, that definitely wasn't damaging to adolescent psyches!
Every morning for 15 minutes before school began, every passing period, every lunch, and after school for another 15 minutes they blasted that fucking song on unceasing repeat through every speaker in the school. Everyone found different ways of coping with this and mine was to observe my classmates descent into madness and categorize the stages.
The first stage was almost completely consistent, and it was a smug almost exasperated eye rolling phase. Often accompanied by derisive comments about the song or the tactic, this phase was extremely mildly annoyed. Most people figured it would blow over soon, and no one anticipated this continuing for a week and a half, creating a miasma of fraught tension.
The second phase was elevated annoyance, starting to snap and be less amused characterized this level of irritation. People would try to cover their ears or put on headphones, humming aggressively to block out the syrupy repulsive children's performer with her loathsome little clap. This phase had people picking their absolute least favorite part of the song. Her inflection on certain words, her timing between verses. I think it's pretty clear already which part I hated most.
The next phase was a bounce back out to absurdity. It became funny how annoying it was and people would sing along as if to challenge the song's authority over their psyche. This paired exceptionally poorly with people in phase two as they'd often lash out at the people giving more voice to their hell.
The fourth phase was a dead-eyed madness. People would stare straight ahead and their lips would silently mouth the familiar words. The song had pounded its way into their very soul and was inextricably linked to auditory output. They often didn't even realize if they began chanting along.
The fifth and final phase was pure uncut pubescent rage. Kids would scream, attack each other, and in a truly epic end to the event hurl a cafeteria chair with such force at the speaker in the cafeteria to irreparably damage the sound system.
The seniors got funding for a party, but some of it had to go to repair the damages, which were substantial.
#ramblies#funny#ffs foibles#high school#when I transferred back to my home state they tried something similar with the song “Blue”. The teachers were threatening to walk by lunch#I'm honestly astonished that none of the teachers rebelled in arizona? It had to be just as bad for them and it played in classrooms
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anyone but you
[part one] | part two | part three | part four |
pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!reader
synopsis: Tara and you, despite having mutual friends, have never met—until a Blackmore University fraternity party brings your paths together. The night is amazing, but the next morning is a disaster, and both of you hope never to see each other again. What you didn’t anticipate is that your best friends are getting married, and now you'll be forced to spend time together at their destination wedding.
warnings: no ghostface au, mentions of alcohol, fluff in the beginning, angst, bad writing, language, slight change in characters' age, mentions of a dead parent, “enemies” to lovers!
a/n: yes yes, totally inspired by the movie anyone but you, if you haven’t watched it, there will be spoilers. not sure if i liked this first chapter that much, next ones will be better, i promise🤞🏼
word count: 5,8k
—
Tara Carpenter loved to party, but mostly because she would always attend the fraternity houses’ parties with her friends who also attended Blackmore University. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that all her usual companions decided to skip the party tonight without bothering to tell her until the last minute.
There she was, dressed up as a pirate, frowning at her phone where her friends’ messages popped up, saying they wouldn’t be going. That was it—the start of a terrible Friday night. She considered going back home, feeling like a sad loser. But she knew exactly what awaited her there: Sam and Danny probably making out on the couch—or worse. Huffing, she shoved her phone into her back pocket, mustering the courage to enter the Omega Kappa Beta party by herself.
The music was loud, but good. Everyone was enjoying it with red cups held high. She made her way to the trashed kitchen, searching for something strong to help her loosen up and forget that her best friends had abandoned her for the night.
After three cups, she was already stumbling. The loud bass thumped through her chest, her head spinning just enough to make her a bit queasy. Needing a break, she headed for the pool area, which seemed quieter and less chaotic.
She slumped down onto one of the chairs, letting the cool night air hit her face. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster, but it sure wasn’t the wild, fun night she had imagined. She closed her eyes, the alcohol swirling in her system, trying to relax.
“Tara?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.
Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw a guy standing beside her. He had a kind of frat-boy look—probably one of the OKB members. Despite being a sophomore law student, Tara had never bothered to learn the names of these guys.
“Yeah?” she mumbled, squinting against the pool lights.
“You good?” the guy asked, concern creasing his forehead.
“Yeah, just… letting the alcohol wear off.” She slurred slightly, trying to sound more sober than she felt. The guy didn’t seem convinced but smiled anyway, offering his hand.
“I’m Frankie,” he said.
She hesitated before shaking his hand, her mind sluggish but wary. “Tara,” she replied.
He motioned toward the house. “You want some water? I can grab some for you in the kitchen.”
She nodded, standing up to follow him. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” she mumbled. Something felt off, but she pushed the thought away, blaming the alcohol for making her overly cautious.
As they walked back toward the house, she noticed fewer people by the pool. It was quieter, the conversations distant. That’s when Frankie spoke up again. “You know what? I have a minibar in my room. We can grab water there, and you can use the bathroom too if you need it.”
Tara’s stomach dropped. The convenient offer set off alarm bells in her head, her instincts kicking in despite the fog of alcohol. Why was he suddenly suggesting his room?
Before she could respond, someone stepped up next to Frankie, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, babe. I was looking for you! I finished my set for the night. We can go home now,” the stranger said smoothly.
She blinked, processing the situation. What?
Frankie glanced at the newcomer’s hand, visibly confused. “Uh…”
“I can see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Frankie,” the stranger continued with a casual smile. “That’s great, but we’ve gotta go now. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, so I think it’s time we head out. Thanks for taking care of her while I was working tonight.”
Tara felt the stranger’s arm slip around her shoulder. The warmth and casualness of the embrace was oddly comforting, even though she had no idea who this person was. Still, she went along with the act, instincts telling her to trust this stranger over Frankie.
“Yeah, thanks, Frankie,” Tara echoed awkwardly. “We… uh… have to get going.”
Intertwining her fingers with the stranger’s, Tara took the first step, guiding them away from Frankie. Her heart raced—not from fear, but from the strangeness of the whole situation. She wasn’t used to needing to be rescued, especially not by someone who appeared out of nowhere.
When they were far enough from Frankie and back in the kitchen, Tara dropped the stranger’s hand. “Thank you… That was really nice of you.”
“Happy to help,” you replied, rummaging through the fridge. “Frankie’s not the type to handle rejection well, if you know what I mean… and by the look on your face, you were about to reject him.”
Tara flushed, embarrassment creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being seen as vulnerable. She hated feeling like she couldn’t handle herself. “Yeah, I was,” she admitted, brushing off her embarrassment with a small smile. “Thanks again.”
The stranger turned around, holding a bottle of water. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You extended a hand.
She shook it, noticing how your grip was firm yet gentle. “I’m Tara,” she replied, her voice a little quieter this time. She found herself holding onto your hand for a bit too long before quickly letting go, feeling the touch linger longer than it should have. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Uh, is there a bathroom around here?”
You pointed down the hallway. “Yeah, just down there.”
“Thanks,” Tara muttered, handing over the water and heading to the bathroom. Leaving you confused as you stand there with her water. Waiting.
She shut the door behind her and sat on the toilet seat, immediately pulling out her phone while peeing. Her fingers trembled slightly, the adrenaline of the night still buzzing through her as she quickly dialed Mindy. When Mindy picked up, Tara didn’t even wait for a greeting.
“Mindy, I just met this person, and I don’t know… It was something. They saved me from what could’ve been a really messy situation. But like… now what? I don’t even know them, but there was this… connection? Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.” Tara paused, shaking her head at her own words. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”
Tara finished washing her hands and looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes staring back. She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers lightly over her fringe, as if steadying herself. "Okay," she whispered, gathering her resolve.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she navigated back toward the kitchen, dodging a couple passionately making out near the door, grimacing slightly as she passed them. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked onto yours, and she couldn’t help but smile awkwardly when you handed her the bottle of water.
“Your water,” you said, grinning.
“Thanks.” She took it, and for a moment, the two of you held each other’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. You started to say something, but she beat you to it, breaking the silence with a small, resigned smile.
“Well, I think I should call it a night,” she said with a soft sigh. “I’ve had my share of excitement.”
Your smile faltered just a bit, but you quickly recovered, masking any disappointment. As she moved to leave, you hesitated, your mind racing. You turned, watching her head toward the entrance, and something compelled you to act.
“Hey…” you called, stepping quickly after her. She paused, turning with a curious look.
“So, are you gonna ask me out now?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she interrupted whatever you’d been about to say. Her comment took you by surprise, but you broke into a smile, catching onto the playful challenge in her tone.
“Yeah,” you replied, mirroring her smile. “Yeah, I am.” You both shared a quick laugh, then walked toward the door together, side by side.
As you walked out into the night, Tara looked up at you, her curiosity piqued. “You know… I go to a lot of these parties. How come I’ve never seen you around?”
Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you chuckled. “I’m not a student anymore. Graduated last year, but a friend of mine who still goes here got me to DJ tonight.” You let out a wry laugh. “Of course, he didn’t even bother showing up.”
She smirked. “Oh, sounds familiar. My friends did the same to me tonight.”
The streets were mostly empty, with the city’s usual hum softened at this late hour. Streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked, and a few blocks away from the chaos of the party, Tara seemed more grounded, though her steps were still a bit unsteady from the alcohol.
“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked alongside her. “What about you? What do you study?”
Tara hugged herself, more from a sense of vulnerability than the chill in the air. She glanced over at you, her expression guarded but curious. “I study law.” she replied, then added reluctantly. Her voice had an almost clipped quality, and you noticed the way she quickly redirected the conversation. “And you? What’s your story?”
Noticing her attempt to shift the topic, you chuckled. “I started out in computer science. That’s what my parents wanted, and it sounded like a solid career, so I went with it for a while. Did a couple of semesters.”
“Computer science?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Didn’t peg you for the type to spend your days coding.”
“Neither did I,” you admitted, giving her a wry smile. “Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I switched over to music production—that’s what I’d always wanted to do anyway.”
She nodded, seemingly intrigued despite herself. “I bet your parents weren’t thrilled with the change, huh?”
You shrugged, eyes on the sidewalk ahead. “Not at first. But eventually, they came around. And if worse comes to worst, I can always fall back on tech if I need to.”
Tara’s interest was clearly piqued as she glanced at you thoughtfully. “So, you just sit in a studio with those fancy soundboards?”
You laughed. “Something like that. Mostly, though, it’s me with my laptop, some recording equipment, and way too much caffeine. But I love it—taking random sounds and turning them into something people can connect to.”
She seemed to admire your passion, though she tried to keep her expression casual. “Sounds like you actually went after what you wanted,” she mused, almost to herself.
You smiled at her comment, feeling the quiet camaraderie that had formed between you. “So… you want to keep hanging out for a bit? My place isn’t far from here. I’d offer coffee, but it’s a bit late for that. I make a killer grilled cheese, though.”
Tara raised an eyebrow, both surprised and amused. “Inviting a girl you just met over for grilled cheese? That’s bold.”
You rubbed the back of your neck, grinning. “I like to think so. But no pressure. If you’d rather call it a night, I get it.”
She paused, considering the offer. The sincerity in your expression was unmistakable, and after the strange night she’d had, she found herself craving something simple, something real. With a nod, she finally agreed, letting a genuine smile slip through.
“Alright,” she replied, matching your smile with a smirk. “Let’s see if you’ve got any real culinary skills.”
The two of you continued down the quiet streets, the city’s glow casting a soft light as you walked together. The conversation flowed easily, shifting from one topic to the next as you shared bits and pieces of yourselves.
The conversation moved from childhood stories to other random facts—Tara mentioned she used to collect keychains, and you told her about the time you accidentally broke into the wrong apartment while trying to help a neighbor. The night air carried your laughter, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of traffic.
—
The two of you stood near the kitchen counter, your movements methodical as you crafted the grilled cheese the way you always did—spreading butter on the bread and layering two slices of cheese. After adding butter to the skillet, you waited for it to melt before placing the sandwich on it, flipping it with the spatula as it browned.
Tara’s eyes wandered around your warehouse-turned-apartment, taking in the cozy but modest space. Music equipment cluttered one corner, while old vinyl records filled the shelves along the walls. She leaned against the counter, her gaze shifting between you and the space, but lingering mostly on you.
“So,” she asked with a playful smirk, “do you invite strangers over for late-night sandwiches often?”
Without looking up from the stove, you chuckled. “Only the ones who look like they’d appreciate my culinary skills. You seemed like the type.”
She rolled her eyes, but a cute smile played on her lips, you could even see her dimples clearly.
As you flipped the sandwich again, the smell filled the small kitchen, and Tara found herself relaxing, slowly letting her guard down in this oddly comforting moment. It had been a long time since she’d experienced a night that felt spontaneous, even a little reckless.
When the sandwich was done, you cut it in half and handed it to her on a plate. “Wait to cool down—” Almost immediately, she bit into it, only to wince and fan her mouth.
“Oh, fuck, that’s hot!” she exclaimed, laughing through the pain between painful chews.
You stifled a laugh. “I literally just took it off the stove. What did you expect?”
“Oh, my God.”
“If you’re gonna be a lawyer, you gotta understand negligence and breach and…” She furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look up at you. “McDonald’s versus that lady’s…” You locked eyes with her, noticing her judgmental look. “Habeas corpus.”
Tara chuckled, swallowing carefully. “You absolutely just butchered those terms,” she said, narrowing her eyes and shooting you a mock glare. “Maybe I should represent you in a case against yourself.”
You were both facing each other, holding eye contact as you playfully teased her. “How do you know? You’re not a lawyer yet.” She gave you a disbelieving look. “It’s not too late to choose a more noble profession!”
“Oh, like you?” She nodded toward the computer desk you’d left on from working earlier. You took a bite of the sandwich and followed her gaze.
“You know what? You’re right. Stick with it. I’m gonna need a lawyer to read my contracts at some point.” She chuckled softly. Looking back at her, you smiled.
The two of you stood there, the playful banter bringing warmth to the room that neither of you had expected. She chewed more carefully now, and as she finished the bite, her gaze softened.
“I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer,” Tara blurted, almost as if she hadn't meant to. She stared at the half-eaten sandwich in her hands, looking embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”
You paused, unsure how to respond, but instead of words, you gently reached out and wiped a bit of cheese from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The gesture was intimate, more so than you’d intended, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow quieter.
She sighed, her voice dropping. “My mom’s a lawyer. I thought maybe if I followed in her footsteps, things would make sense. But… I feel like it isn’t really me.”
There was a small silence, but instead of pressing, you just gave her a supportive nod. “You don’t have to figure it all out now.”
She smiled gratefully and took another bite, the tension lifting again as you both relaxed into the conversation. The two of you laughed, easing the awkwardness. You took another bite, an unconscious smile lingering on your face. With Tara around, you almost felt like a different person. She brushed the back of her hand where yours had touched, glancing back at you.
“I’m sorry… My life is a disaster right now.”
“Might be turning a corner,” you shrugged, showing compassion for her struggle, making eye contact again. “You just met me!”
Tara grinned. “Yeah, or I could end up in a suitcase.” You chuckled. “I mean… you’ve got some, uh, serial killer vibes going on here. Why do you have a giant wrench?” She pointed to the large wrench sitting on the vinyl rack. You looked at it and smiled.
“Okay, harsh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It wouldn’t be a suitcase. It would be a carry-on, thank you very much. You’re about zero feet tall,” you teased, referencing her small stature. She shot you a light glare, making you smile. You glanced back at the wrench. “And my mom gave me that.” At this, Tara raised her eyebrows, paying closer attention. “It’s a reminder that no matter how broken something is, there’s always a way to fix it.”
She nodded at your words, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes briefly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m talking to you about my mom right now.” You squinted and shook your head, letting out a small chuckle.
Vulnerability hit you for a moment. You weren’t one to share much about your late mother with friends, let alone 'strangers' like Tara, but something about her made you feel at ease—like you could talk about the topic that usually tightened your chest.
Tara’s gaze softened. “No worries. That’s actually kind of sweet,” she smiled gently. “Now, tell me about that!” She pointed to an ATM machine in the corner, raising an eyebrow.
You smiled and nodded at the machine, which was in perfect condition, the screen still on. “That… is a long story!” You put your sandwich back on the plate and noticed her frowning at you. “Everybody survived!”
“Great!” She laughed, and you followed, the sound echoing through the small apartment. As the laughter died down, Tara took a deep breath, savoring the moment. She felt unexpectedly comfortable there—with you, in your quirky apartment, and with the smell of burnt cheese still lingering in the air.
In your mind, maybe that was the moment you started to hear romantic background music. You bickered and laughed together, even sharing a few silly dance moves in the kitchen after getting some water.
Tara eventually curled up on the sofa as you cleaned up the counter, chatting and laughing loudly from across the room. She teased you about your random quirks, and you responded with good-natured jabs, both of you secretly enjoying the strange, comforting ease. It didn’t take long for you to join her on the couch.
Letting the night unfold, an unexpected bond formed over random topics. Tara eventually settled on your lap, your hands resting on the skin of her waist beneath her silky shirt, facing you. The laughter slowly faded into quieter moments, one of you wrapped around the other. Lingering glances and more meaningful conversations pulled you closer until you both drifted off as dawn approached, feeling more at home than you had in a long time.
Soft morning light filtered through the large living room windows, casting a warm glow across the loft. Tara stirred and blinked awake, feeling a warm weight around her shoulders and waist. She found herself nestled against you, your arm draped over her, your breathing steady and calm.
But the quiet, comfortable intimacy triggered a rush of anxiety in her. Nudging her to move before things got too complicated. She knew she should say something, but no words came, and a sense of urgency pushed her to leave before things got more tangled.
Carefully, she slipped out from under your arm, holding her breath to keep from waking you. With deliberate silence, she stood up to put her shoes on, but one slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, betraying her. She winced and glanced back quickly, not seeing you stir from where she stood.
Your eyes blinked open as you took in the empty space beside you. You craned your neck toward the noise that had woken you, and your expression shifted from confusion to quiet disappointment as you watched her getting ready to leave without so much as a backward glance or goodbye. You held back the urge to say something, but the silence in the room felt suddenly heavy, filled with words left unsaid.
She walked down the stairs to the door, and as it clicked shut behind her, Tara hesitated for the briefest second, almost turning back. But then the weight of the moment became too much to bear. Meanwhile, you leaned back on the couch, staring at the empty space for a long moment, letting the silence settle over you like a heavy blanket.
Eventually, you got up, grabbing fresh clothes to wear before heading back to the living room. You tried to shake Tara from your mind, still feeling the ache of her sudden departure. But as you looked at the wrench, you almost stopped in your tracks. You walked over to it, picking it up in your hands and recalling how you had shared a part of your story that only your close friends knew. You thought Tara would stick around, at least for a while.
You didn’t have much more quiet time for introspection before you heard the door open. You turned your head so fast at the sound that you felt a slight disappointment upon realizing it was only your best friend.
His voice echoed up the stairs. “Yo, let's go, Y/N/N! Come on, cupcake! We’re gonna be late!”
“S'up, C?” You sat down in your computer desk chair, still not fully giving him your attention.
Chad stepped inside with his usual boisterous energy, walking around and dropping his bike helmet on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the skillet on the stove, noticing the remnants of last night's grilled cheese.
“Whoa. Did you cook? Wait… did you bring home a girl to stay over?” you didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the large wrench in your hands, turning it over absentmindedly. Chad moved closer, munching on a leftover piece of grilled cheese as he gave you a puzzled look.
“Dude, what are you doing with that? Why do you have the giant wrench?” He took it from your hands, examining it. After a few seconds, he pieced it together. “Wait—You told her about your mom, bro? You never talk about your mom with anyone.” His tone softened.
You looked toward the door that he left open, a pained smile crossing your face as you didn’t disagree with his assumptions. “Yeah, I did. Not sure what I was thinking.”
Chad let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “Fuck. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? You’re in love!” He put the tool back in its place and turned back to you. “About freaking time, too. You’re totally in love!” He squealed the last part, unable to contain his excitement.
Trying to brush it off, you shook your head, a hint of bitterness coloring your tone. “Fuck that. Not that it matters. I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” You looked at him with a straight face, attempting to mask the sting of your words. “This girl’s a disaster… she’s a nothing.”
—
Minutes before slipping out of the house, Tara walked along the quiet sidewalk, pulling her phone from her pocket as she dialed Mindy. The line barely rang before Mindy picked up, her voice tinged with early morning sleepiness.
“Tara? What’s going on?”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry to wake you. I just… I don’t know. Remember the person I met last night? They’re… so fucking great, Mindy. We kind of walked around the city, talked, and, I don’t know, we spent the night together and fell asleep talking. It felt… different. Like I didn’t have to keep my guard up.”
“Oh, it was like that, huh?” Mindy’s voice perked up, her interest piqued. “So, what happened after all that?”
A silence stretched between them as Tara paused on the sidewalk. She hesitated, her expression clouded with uncertainty. “I… I left before they woke up.”
Mindy groaned on the other end of the line. “What??? You’re kidding. Why would you just bail? If they’re as great as you’re saying…”
“I don’t know why! Why did I?” Tara blurted, stopping mid-step and glancing back in the direction she’d come from. “What the fuck am I doing? Should I go back?”
“Seems like you already know the answer,” Mindy said gently. “Just go! Find out what this is.”
“Okay, I love you. Bye!” Tara managed a small smile. “I'm so sorry I woke you up. This whole thing is so new to me. Bye!” Her footsteps quickened as she retraced her steps to the building.
“I love you, T. You’ve got this.” Mindy smiled before hanging up, hurrying her steps.
As Tara approached the door, she noticed it was open. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Chad’s familiar voice from inside. His back was facing her, so she didn’t know who the guy was. She certainly wasn’t prepared to hear your sharper tone following in disagreement about you being in love.
“I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” “This girl’s a disaster… She’s a nothing.”
The words landed with a crushing weight, stealing her breath and pinning her to the spot. She felt her chest tighten, a surge of hurt and anger rising within her as she turned on her heel and walked away, quickening her pace as if the farther she got, the less it would hurt. She’d let herself be vulnerable, just for a moment, and this was what it had gotten her.
She didn’t stop until she rounded the corner, the city coming to life around her—a stark reminder of the distance she intended to keep. She had allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could be different. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again.
—
Six months had passed since that fateful night, and neither you nor Tara had crossed each other’s paths again. The silence between you both was deafening, leaving nothing but the bitter ache of unfinished business. You had carried on, pretending that the encounter hadn’t left a mark, but you couldn’t shake the lingering memory of Tara slipping away without a word. Each time you tried to forget, the night resurfaced—like a song stuck on repeat. Every quiet moment felt like a reminder that you’d let something slip through your fingers, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.
Tara, on the other hand, had moved on—at least, that’s what she told herself. She had rekindled her relationship with Wes, her first love, and now she was engaged to him once again. There was comfort in the familiar, in the steady future she thought they were meant to have. Yet, sometimes, late at night, when she was alone, Tara’s mind wandered back to that night with you. She hated herself for it. She’d tell herself it had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, but that didn’t stop the quiet tug in her chest—a reminder of vulnerability, of something she couldn’t fully ignore. And so, she buried it deeper, clinging to Wes and the life they were building.
Still, neither of you had expected to meet again—until tonight.
The bar was alive with energy, the thrum of chatter and laughter filling the space. Mindy and Anika had orchestrated the night, inviting everyone out for a casual reunion. You and Chad arrived a little late, fresh from a lively Korean dinner, your usual laid-back attitude masking the subtle undercurrent of tension that had become all too familiar since that night. As you made your way through the bar, exchanging handshakes and hugs, your attention briefly flitted to the crowd. Anika grinned, subtly pointing out a group of attractive girls seated near the bar.
You raised an eyebrow and nudged Chad. “Looks like there’s potential,” you joked, but the moment was fleeting.
Across the room, Tara had just stepped through the door, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted her best friend waving her over. She smiled, though it faltered when her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd. Something about tonight felt off—familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place.
Mindy greeted her enthusiastically. “Tara! Get over here!” she called. Tara made her way over, her steps slowing slightly as her gaze settled on Chad… and then it clicked. You were there. Her pulse quickened.
Chad wrapped her in a hug before Mindy nudged him aside, beaming as she gestured between you and Tara. “Y/N, come say hi!” she called, oblivious to the growing tension. “Tara, meet one of my dearest childhood friends,” Anika added with a smile, making it clear that you and she shared a long history.
The second your eyes met Tara’s, the world seemed to stop. For a fleeting moment, neither of you moved, both taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. Tara’s chest tightened. How had you ended up here? She didn’t need this. Not tonight.
Your face hardened, instinctively putting up a wall. “Hey,” you said, your voice flat.
She crossed her arms, her tone equally sharp. “Yeah.”
Mindy’s brows shot up. “Wait, do you two… know each other?”
You answered too quickly. “We’ve met.”
“Barely.” Tara’s reply came just as fast. Her eyes narrowed, the distance between you two palpable.
Anika blinked in surprise. “That’s so random.”
Tara, visibly uncomfortable, nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, ready to escape.
You couldn’t resist the smirk forming on your lips. “If you’re looking to sneak out, the exit’s that way. I know that’s kinda your thing.”
The law student spun back to face you, her smile cold. “Well, I am a disaster, right?” Her words were laced with venom, a bitter jab that struck deeper than either of you cared to admit.
The group fell into an uneasy silence, but it didn’t last long. Chad, Anika, and Mindy exchanged wary glances before Mindy spoke up, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Okay! Let’s… let’s move on from this.”
Anika quickly chimed in, “Yeah, let’s head back to the table,” motioning for Chad to follow, though their eyes never left the tension between you and Tara.
You faced each other, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging in the air. The banter between you both was sharp, but beneath it, something more vulnerable flickered. There had once been something here, something deeper than either of you wanted to admit, and even now, in the harshness of your words, that connection lingered—bitter but undeniable.
You leaned in, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So, you a lawyer yet?”
Tara’s arms crossed defensively, her eyes narrowing, trying to shield herself from whatever it was you made her feel. “Why? Do you need a defense attorney?”
“I’m just curious how you passed that class on ethics,” you shot back, your tone cutting but with a hint of something softer beneath the surface. “You know, with all the bailing you do on people.”
Her jaw tightened, but something in her eyes flickered—something that said she understood exactly what you meant. It stung, more than either of you would let on.
Meanwhile, at the table, Chad plopped down, looking confused as ever. Mindy snorted, leaning back in her seat, her eyes darting between you and Tara. “I think that’s the alleged jerk who T got with when she was on her break from Wes.”
Anika’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “No way. So T’s the party girl who ghosted them?”
Chad, still lost in thought, nodded slowly. “I thought she looked familiar when I saw her that day… but, you know, I don’t really see faces. I just see souls.”
Anika chuckled softly, shaking her head. “At least they made her realize Wes was the one, right?”
Back at the war field where you and Tara stood, the tension reached a boiling point. Tara’s jaw clenched as she held her left hand up, displaying the ring—a symbol of the life she was trying so hard to convince herself she wanted. “I’m engaged now,” she said sharply, the words coming out more like a challenge than a statement.
Your expression barely flickered, but deep down, something twisted inside—a pang of something you refused to name. “Good for you,” you replied, forcing a dry smile. “Where are you registered? I’ll buy you a broomstick.”
She scoffed, but her smile was tight, forced. “I’ll send you an invite. You still live at 28 Fuckboy Lane?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, shaking your head. “You do remember. See, it did mean something to you.”
For a moment, something dark and raw flickered in Tara’s eyes, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper filled with venom and regret. “You’ll always be my rock bottom. The night I spent with a bitch.”
Across the bar, Chad squinted, trying to make sense of the distant conversation. “Did she just call Y/N a bitch?”
Anika leaned closer to Mindy, whispering, “Do you think they’re going to physically fight?”
Mindy smirked, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Or fuck. That’s a fine line.”
Back at the standoff, Tara’s words softened, though the bitterness still lingered. “Let’s just get through tonight for them, okay?”
You gave her a slow nod, your face unreadable but your heart tight. “Fine. I’m getting a drink, and I’ll toast to never seeing you again.” Your words were sharp, but the way you leaned closer, the tension buzzing between you, said otherwise.
Tara met your eyes, her lips curling into a slight, almost playful smile. “Cheers to that, bro.”
You were nearly nose-to-nose, the heat of your proximity almost suffocating when Mindy, Anika, and Chad appeared at your sides, gently pulling you both out of the intensity of the moment.
Mindy spoke first, her voice cutting through the tension with excitement. “Hey, guys, listen up. We actually have some big news.”
Anika’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed Mindy’s hand. “Hey, so the reason we brought you all together—we’re getting married. In Australia. And you’re all coming with us!” The couple squealed frantically.
Both you and Tara blinked in shock, the animosity between you momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of weight. Australia. A wedding. A trip where you would all be together—where you would have to see each other, to deal with everything that still lay between you. There was no running from it now. You were bound by your friends, by the promises of a wedding that would force you both to face what had been left unresolved.
The room seemed to close in, and though the words hung unsaid, you both knew that this was only the beginning of a confrontation you couldn’t escape. For better or worse, you were going to have to deal with each other—whether you liked it or not.
#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega imagine#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x y/n#scream v#scream 5#liwriting
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Tension 18+
Pic: littlelovelore
Astarion x f!reader
Summary: During a solo mission, Astarion takes the opportunity to indulge in some "depraved carnal lust".
Warnings: 18+ MDNI Slight enemies to lovers, sex bent over a desk, sex with clothes on, mild choking, rough sex, reader handles her crush like a fifth grader (by being mean) Astarion is his smug self
Word Count: 3.2k
Masterlist
Back-to-back posts brought to you by Bree's insomnia...Enjoy!
"Do you want me to do it?" Astarion smugly asks, flicking his wrist sharply, sending a dagger into the wood beam before him. He's leaning against the cracked wall of the tunnel. A condescending smile stretches across his pale lips.
"Shut the fuck up!" You snap, twisting the lockpick violently, it's stuck on something, and it is pissing you off.
"My my, someone's testy today." The Vampire pushes off the wall to retrieve his dagger, only for you to hear the same thud of the knife hitting the abused beam once again.
You clench your jaw, wanting nothing more than to drown the bastard in the small stream of gray water. See him try to be a smartass when he's choking on sewage.
No! Just breathe.
As soon as you get this damn door open, all you need is to grab the stolen lease for the damn butcher, and the party will have a nice payout. Then Astarion's snarky comments and teasing jabs can be ignored behind a glass of ale and a nice meal.
Well, if you don't kill him first.
The relationship between you and the Vampire is a complex one, to say the least. Astarion is an arrogant, pompous dick. You're a temperamental stubborn asshole. It made for a messy mix of harsh insults and constant attempts to belittle the other.
It would have been so easy to hate him completely, but Astarion can be sweet under the cloak of night, and you could almost pretend he's a tolerable person when he speaks those honey-coated words. And when you let him feed from you, everything became so much more complicated.
The pick snaps, and you drop your head, groaning in frustration. You stand up and kick hard against a crate; the decayed wood breaks against your boot. Sighing in defeat, you motion to the rogue.
Astarion laughs smoothly, tucking the knife away, and exchanges it for his thieves' tools. Giving you a wink, he bends down to examine the lock. You pretend not to admire the swell of his ass, but who are you kidding Astarion is extremely attractive.
With little to no fanfare, the lock turns over, and Astarion opens the door. "After you."
"I fucking hate you." You grumble, pushing past, making a point to shove your shoulder hard into the rouge.
"Keep telling yourself that Darling,"
You flip him off.
The sewer system is a winding path of tunnels leading to various places. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes.
"Are you sure we are going the right way?" Astarion asks, breaking the peace.
"Of course, this is the right way." You hiss, glaring over your shoulder. "I can read a map."
"Just like you could pick a lock, yes?"
You don't think you've ever seen a more punchable face. You're almost tempted to smack him just to see his reaction. Instead, you practice a semblance of self-control and ignore him.
After a few more turns, you hit a dead end. It's nothing but a damp brick wall. Scanning the map, you're sure you followed all the proper steps; there should be an entrance. Stowing the stupid paper away, you begin feeling the brick for any invisible button, unwilling to admit defeat in front of Astarion. All hideouts have secret levers. Right?
"Well, sweetheart, I think you've gotten us lost."
"No, I didn't, jackass, now be useful for once and help me." You bend down and begin trailing your fingertips against the rough bricks near the floor.
"I don't think I will. I'm quite enjoying the view from here."
You look back towards the rogue, "What are you talking about–" you choke on your words.
Astarion is shamelessly eyeing your form. A fang tugs at his bottom lip, hunger darkening his eyes. You swallow hard, and a flame ignites low in your stomach. You have a sudden urge to press him against the wall. That thought startles you. This is Astarion. The obnoxious, arrogant, attractive–no, stop that. You stand up and shake your head, willing your thoughts to clear.
"You're ridiculous," you sigh and dig through your bag.
Retrieving the knock scroll, Gale scribed for you. Repeating the steps he told you to do, you mumbled the incantation, and soon enough, what was once a solid brick wall cracked open to reveal a hidden path.
"Told you I knew where I was going," you boast, sticking your tongue out childishly.
Astarion smirks, "Yes, a broken clock is right twice a day."
Scoffing, you shove him hard, causing him to take a few steps to correct his footing. The entrance leads to a broken-down ladder and a worn wooden hatch. Astarion steps up to pick the lock and lifts the hatch barely to survey the room. He pushes the trapdoor open and enters.
Following suit, you find yourself in a dusty broom closet. Astarion is already at the door to the hallway, a sliver of light pouring through the crack. Closing the trapdoor, you cross your arms and wait for Astarion to turn back to you.
"It's abandoned."
"Are you sure?"
Scoffing, Astarion doesn't answer. He pushes the door open and begins down the hall. You follow after him.
The small hideout is plainly decorated, the common room has a dingy sofa and a coffee table. The fireplace is dead; not even embers remain. Good. In the corner, there looks to be an unfinished game of cards. The faded carpet runner leads down the hall to a large ornate door.
Astarion is already opening the door by the time you reach him. By the looks of it, this is the boss's office. A large oak desk sat in the middle room. A plush chair pulled slightly away as if someone hadn't bothered to move it back. Bookshelves line the back wall.
"Secure the door," you say as you move to the window to the left of the door. You hear Astarion mumble something but don't quite catch his words.
The window is a short drop good for a quick escape if needed.
You move to the desk and begin rifling through the papers on the desk. Tax documents, random notes, crappy doodles, and a cringey love letter, but not what you're looking for. You rip open the first drawer. Nothing. Second drawer. Nothing. Third, nothing.
"Astarion, did you find anything?"
"Nothing important." His sultry voice is deep and so very close to your ear.
Your heart drops, but you suppress any other signs of distress, knowing that is exactly what he's looking for. Sighing In annoyance, you turn around to face Astarion and cross your arms over your chest.
"Are you even trying to look for the damn paper? We need to get what we're here for and get the fuck out!"
Astarion's mouth cracks into a cheeky grin, and he closes in on you. You back against the desk instinctually, reaching a hand up that lands on his firm chest. Astarion has you caged against the desk, each hand on either side of your hips. You know Astarion can hear the thrumming of your heart and the shaky inhalation of your breath, and you curse your body for betraying you.
He bends his head down to press his mouth against your ear. "What if I'm looking for something else?"
You freeze. What did he mea–
The thought is forgotten because he's slamming his lips onto yours. You gasp in surprise, and Astarion wastes no time, delving his tongue into your mouth and claiming it as his.
The slight metallic taste of blood that lingers on his tongue should repulse you but has you moaning desperately for more. You grip your fist tightly into the fabric of Astarion's armor. His body is flush against yours, but you need more. You scratch your nails up his neck and tangle your fingers into his hair. Astarion groans into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip.
Everything is hazy, and you're lost in the kiss. Your thoughts are slow to catch up with the situation, too consumed by the taste of his lips. Astarion's lips. Astarion.
You push him away, chest heaving in rapid breaths. "What are you doing?"
"I'd hope my intentions would be obvious by now." He grins and dives back to kiss down your neck, dragging his teeth against your skin. "I could be more obvious if that would clear things up."
A sharp bite of his mouth at your throat drags a choked gargle from your swollen lips. You feel dizzy from the scent of rosemary and bergamot invading your nose. Lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. Astarion presses a knee between your legs, applying firm pressure against your burning arousal.
Gods, what was he doing to you?
Needing to gain any form of control, you tug sharply at the roots of his silver curls, drawing a hiss from the man.
You finally manage to gasp out, "We hate each other." As if that would somehow clear up your raging thoughts.
Except, could you hate someone who is making you feel so good?
Cold fingers trail against the skin between your leather armor and trousers. Astarion's deft hands start pulling at the lace of your pants. Another wave of arousal warms your body, and you feel drunk on the pale elf.
"You say that, yet I don't think you want me to stop." He purrs, halting his movements, and meets your eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head, desperate for more. Your dignity couldn't live with letting Astarion reduce you to a begging mess. However, if you were honest with yourself, you're already halfway there. Reaching out, you grab for his belt.
Astarion was having none of that. He's quick to twirl you around and press your torso flush against the top of the desk. A stack of paper flies off and scatters to the ground, but neither of you put much care into it. Astarion grinds his front roughly against your ass, and you moan at the feeling of his hardening cock against you.
"No, no, no, my dear, use your words."
"Gods, are you always so fucking annoying?" You whine pressing back and rolling your ass against him. Astarion grunts, gripping your hips tightly. "Are you going to fuck me, or should I just take care of myself?"
Astarion groans, rocking against each roll of your hips. "There's my spitfire."
"I'm not yours."
Astarion tugs at your pants and underwear, pulling them over your rear and letting them pool around your ankles. You kick off your boots and free yourself, leaving your lower half bare to the open air. A shiver rushes up your spine as the cold air hits your dripping heat.
Astarion's slim fingers trail down your folds, and you bite your lips to stifle a cry. Tilting your head back, you see the rogue admiring the slick coating his fingers.
"You might not be mine, darling." Astarion slips his drenched fingers into his mouth, and you watch, mouth agape, as he swirls his tongue to clean each digit. "But who else has seen you bent over a desk looking as desperate and delicious as you do now?"
"I could name a few," you say cheekily, earning you a smack on the flesh of your backside.
Astarion gropes the reddened skin and bends down, blanketing you with his body. You feel the soft pants of his breath cascade over your neck as Astarion brings his lips to your ear.
"Then it seems I'm just going to have to ruin you for anyone else." Astarion practically growls and licks along the shell of your ear before taking the lobe in between his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. You don't recall hearing Astarion unclasp his belt, but when you feel his bare cock rub against your back, all you can do is arch your back and moan.
"Astarion," you part your legs more in silent invitation.
"Yes, my dear," His voice is smug as he rocks against you. He knows what you want but wants to hear you say it.
The head of his cock parts your folds and moves to tease your desperate clit; a collective moan fills the room, but it is not enough for either of you. And knowing that the two of you are currently in the middle of dangerous territory means there is no time to play.
"Stop being a prick and fuck me."
"Have I ever told you, you always have such a way with words." Astarion chuckles before plunging deep into your cunt.
A shaky cry leaves your lips, all air seemingly ripped from your lungs. Astarion is bigger than most men you've slept with prior - though you wouldn't dare voice that out loud in case it inflates his already-inflated ego. The stretch holds a delicious sting, and you feel the beginning of the burn of tears at the corner of your eyes.
Astarion's still his hips for a moment, letting you collect yourself. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back and peppering kisses across your neck. Once the sting of his initial entrance simmers to a stirring heat, you tell him to move.
"Hells you're so tight." Astarion groans as he sets a teasing pace, dragging the rugged ridges of his cock out before plunging back in at the same agonizing pace.
A pace you could imagine sharing intimately with Astarion all night somewhere secluded. Perhaps your tent or an isolated clearing, not a random gang's currently empty hideout. And since you're not one to play nice, you decide to play with fire instead.
Pushing up on your elbows, you move your head to look back at Astarion, a playful smirk on your lips. "You say you're going to ruin me, but I think Gale could be doing a better job of it right now."
Astarion's body freezes just as you hoped he would react. He shoots you a look full of daggers and bares his teeth in annoyance. Without comprehending entirely what's happening, Astarion pulls out of you and, with a strength you have not seen from the Vampire (the same Vampire who asks others on multiple occasions to carry his pack because it's too heavy), flips you over and has you seated firmly back on the desk leaving you dizzy but feeling giddy as a schoolgirl.
"Oh darling, you're going to regret that."
Astarion rams back into your pussy and begins to thrust quick and brutally deep into your body. His cold hand is wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly enough to keep your eyes locked onto him.
Your legs link around his lean hips, pulling him deeper into you. Moaning desperately, you run one of your hands up under his leather armor, splaying it across his stomach. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss, all tongue and teeth and perfection.
The desk is groaning under the movement of your bodies. Random knick-knacks are clanging to the floor. A bottle of whiskey shatters, and the pungent aroma wafts into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and slick.
"You and that mouth of yours." He breathes deep into your ear. "Always so confident, so snarky, so bratty."
"M-more…" you choke, clenching around his length, desperate for anything and everything he will give you.
"Do you think the wizard could handle you?" The hand not firmly holding your neck snakes between your legs and begins to play with your clit.
"Gods A-star.." You gasp, eyes rolling back.
"Could he or anyone else make you feel this good?" Astarion's hand tightens slightly against your neck, and the lack of oxygen leaves you feeling dizzy and euphoric.
"N-no…please."
"After me, no one will ever be able to satisfy you." His thumb is now rubbing fast, tight circles against your clit. "Fuck, that's it, squeeze me just like that."
Gripping onto the desk, you shift your hips, and Astarion is now hitting deeper into your abused cunt. You tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to go faster. That delicious coil is beginning to burn deep in your stomach, and you know you won't last much longer.
"Tell me, who's making you feel this good," Astarion demands, voice husky.
"Y-you,"
"And when you come on my cock, I want you to scream my name." He grunts, and the thrust of his hips is beginning to become sloppier. "I want to hear just how good I make you feel."
Everything is too much. Astarion's sinful words, the harsh thrust of his hips combined with the tight circles of his thumb on your clit, the musky smell of Astarion's sweat mingling with yours, and the intense fragrance of the spilled whiskey.
You don't remember the details, just the wave of euphoria as the coil snaps and your orgasm washes over you. The words that spill from your lips hold no meaning in your clouded mind. The only thing that holds context is the feeling of Astarion stuttering thrusts of his hips as he chases his release from your spent body.
And when he stills, and the world falls silent apart for your combined pants of breath, all you do is brush the curls off his forehead and kiss his cheek. Why? You're not sure, but that's something you'll ask yourself later.
Once you return to relatively normal breathing, Astarion moves from his slumped position against your body. He stares at you in astonishment.
"Well, that happened." You offer because what else were you supposed to say?
Astarion breaks out into a genuine laugh, full belly and joyful as he tucks himself away. You couldn't help but join in as you move to put your clothes on.
"Yes, my sweet, I suppose that did happen."
"So where-"
The two of you jump at a commotion coming from the hall. Someone is jingling the doorknob, trying to open it; when it doesn't budge, there is a loud bang followed by an even louder shout of anger.
"Fuck!" You quickly finish tying your boots and collect your gear.
"Seems like our friends are back from their trip. I believe it's time to go." Astarion says as he moves to the window and opens it. Without waiting for you to respond, he gives you a devilish smirk and jumps out.
"Shit, the paper." You sigh, knowing you'll never hear the end of it.
By the time you make it to the window, the door is being busted in, and a very angry-looking dwarf is storming into the room. You smile at him and give him a salute before diving out the window, knowing Astarion will be there to catch you.
***Later at camp***
"What do you mean you didn't get the document?" Gale yells, the others equally baffled by you and Astarion's failure. "That was the only thing you needed to get!"
You shrink in on yourself looking to Astarion for help. "I...I don"
Astarion rolls his eyes. "Stealing objects from heavily populated hideouts is harder than you might think, wizard."
"That's why we sent you two!"
"Then perhaps next time-"
"HOLY SHIT!" Karlach interrupts, drawing everyone's attention. She's pointing straight at you with a look of bafflement. "Soldier's got a fucking hickey."
You clamp a hand over the spot Astarion was biting at earlier, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.
Shadowheart's face scrunches up in disgust. "Please don't tell me, we're not getting paid because you two idiots decided to fuck?"
"Darling, it would seem the cat's out of the bag." The bastard has the audacity to look proud.
"I hate you all." You groan and storm off to your tent, contemplating just how bad it would be to join the Absolute.
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