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d-targaryenshoe · 5 months

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Muddy Games - Anthony Bridgerton

Word Count: 1728

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton and a game of Pall Mall, without winning it's never good enough it is.

As the sunlight met your skin, you felt the heat radiate from the So huge window shining into your bedroom, or perhaps it may been the warmth that radiated from your husband's body who still sounded pretty much asleep next to you.

Staring at the ceiling, a smile appeared on your face. It may have been happiness even though adoration was also still a valuable option.

You pulled the covers from your body as you carefully took hold of Anthony's hand, trying to pull yourself from under his grip meanwhile, but the Lord was smarter than you knew.

"Dearest, it's almost half of the day, we must go downstairs to the family." You chuckled, feeling Anthony's arm tighten around your waist before he pulled you closer once more. "Anthony, we've arrived last night, we didn't even see them."

"We still have enough time to conversate with them, they'd understand me if I desired to lock myself in here with my newly wedded wife." He answered, placing his lips on your neck.

"They would, hm?" Running a hand through his brown hair, you smiled while raising an eyebrow at the man. "We really should sr-tart of this da-"

"Anthony? Y/n?" A young female's voice was sounded on the other side of your door after a knock was heard. "YOU MUST MAKE HASTE."

Anthony sighed to himself, rubbing his forehead before getting up out of bed and opening the door for a small crack. hiding his uncovered body behind the door, meeting Eloise's eyes. "Sister? Nice to see you on this delightful morning, is it not?"

"No, it is not." She answered.

"The sun is shining to its greatest?"

"Sun? Ah, very hot, too hot." She fanned herself with her hand.

Eloise grinned sarcastically at her brother, giving him a toothy smile, trying to peek into the room but no one could do as Anthony positioned his hand on the doorframe. "Do you need assistance with anything, El?

"No, just hastening the two of you up with whatever you're accomplishing, everyone's downstairs, we're almost beginning a Pall Mall game." Eloise shrugged, before loudly speaking up. "DAPHNE WOULD LOVE TO SEE Y/N AGAIN AFTER SUCH A LONG TRAVEL."

Anthony squinted at the younger girl, shaking his head before she waved him off and walked away, knowing how much of a strong connection you had with the other Bridgerton sister.

Anthony closed the door, walked back into the room, and started to relay Eloise's message, but you interrupted him with a chuckle. "I heard everything, dearest. Let's not keep your family waiting."

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of bed to get dressed. Anthony smiled at you, grateful for your understanding nature, and started to get ready as well.

"Thank you for the concern, but I'm ready to face them. We'll handle it together." You replied with a smile as you walked down the staircase, holding hands.

As you stepped outside, the first thing you saw was the family waiting on the grass field. They were all smiling and waving, and you could feel the love and warmth radiating from them.

Despite the overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by so many people, you knew that you were very much ready to be a part of this family.

Eloise was standing next to Violet, who immediately embraced you and welcomed you to the family.

"Oh, brother, I must say, you and the clothes on your body are a much more pleasant sight." Eloise smiled, but the smile quickly faded as she saw the look Colin gave her.

"Eloise, that's enough. Let's not embarrass the newlyweds," Violet said, giving her daughter a stern look.

"I'll think of a number and the person to guess it, picks first?" Colin suggested.

"What? I do not accept. The oldest should pick first, Colin." Benedict snapped.

"The oldest? The youngest, much rather!" Eloise

"I just got married, I should be choosing." Anthony urged.

"Why am I afraid that this is how every Pall Mall game goes?" You asked Daphne as she chuckled. "Because it is, is it not?"

Daphne catches your eye and nods her head. "Very much so, excuse me for a moment."

"All of you, almost starting a contest on who shall pick first, when the only person who has not said one thing, is your wife, Anthony, maybe she is the one to pick first?" Daphne gave her brother a stern look, hearing Eloise laughing quietly.

As Anthony clears his throat, he agrees with Daphne's suggestion that you should be the one to pick first. "Yes, that's a great idea. Dearest, why don't you pick first?" he says, giving you a warm smile.

You nod, picking the black mallet, and noticing Anthony's expression of shock. You can't help but laugh as Benedict teases his brother about the mallet of death.

"So it is yours?" You ask, holding out the mallet towards him to take, but he shakes his head, kissing your temple.

"No, not at all, it's yours now." Anthony smiles.

"Is it? Because the last time I tried to do so, you almost beate-" Colin his words were stopped by the look his brother gave him. "What?"

"You exaggerate, dear brother." Anthony placed his chin on your shoulder, standing behind you and wrapping one arm around your waist.

"I've had enough, shall I watch those two all day, or may I start this game?" Eloise sighed, swinging the mallet in her hand towards you and Anthony. "I much would like to do the second thought."

" I think we should indeed begin with the Pall Mall game, y/n, love, why don't you start? violet kindly smiled, placing her hand on yours before returning to her seat.

With a determined look on your face, you swung your mallet and successfully struck the round bowl through the high arch of iron.

"Well, well, well! It seems your mighty mallet has finally proven its worth." You teased your husband, making him place his lips on your neck, making you lean into him.

" It was just a stroke of luck." He muttered against your neck, before releasing you and walking towards the spot to give it his best try. "Dear family, watch closely, Benedict, you indeed. I'm about to show you how it's done."

Anthony steps up to take his shot, his eyes focused on the target. He swings his mallet with confidence, but to his dismay, he misses the ball completely. His expression turns from determination to frustration.

"Well, well, Anthony. I must say, that was quite the swing!" Benedict laughed, throwing his arm around his brother's shoulder.

Anthony's face turns red with embarrassment as his siblings join in on the laughter.

"Oh Anthony, perhaps you need a bit more practice before challenging Benedict." Daphne tried to hide her smile behind her gloved hand.

"I think I'll keep score. One point deducted for every missed shot, Anthony." Eloise adjusted the bow in her hair, smiling at the Bridgerton brother.

Anthony tries to maintain his composure, but the teasing continues to rattle him. "Enough! I'll show you all in the next round."

"Alright, here goes nothing!" Daphne sighs, taking Anthony's spot of position. Daphne takes a deep breath and focuses on the ball. With a swift motion, she strikes it with precision.

The ball hits the target dead center, causing a loud "clang" sound.

"I did it! I did it!" She cheered, embracing you and Eloise with joy.

"Okay, Daphne, we've heard, now it's my turn." Colin tries his best to concentrate. "Alright, here goes nothing!"

"Colin, that position? You really must work on your aim." Anthony spoke, having Eloise chuckle. "Don't chuckle, you too."

"Just you wait, Anthony. I'll get better with practice." Colin answered, striking the ball and scoring another point.

"Everybody move, I get to try now." Benedict swings his mallet and hits the ball with a strong force, but unfortunately, it veers off course. "Damn it!"

"What happened, Benedict?" Anthony raised an eyebrow, leaning his hands on his mallet.

"It's your fault, Anthony! You distracted me!" Benedict pointed a finger at his brother.

"Me? How on earth did I distract you?" Anthony rolled his eyes. "It's not my fault you missed your shot."

"Okay, okay, my turn, go away," Eloise said, She hit the ball, but it flew through the air and landed in the mud. "Oh no! The ball went flying, there goes my shot!

Anthony let his eyes run over the field and remembers which direction it went. "Y/n, dearest, the ball went in that direction, care to join?"

"Of course, we must retrieve it." You smile, taking hold of your husband's hand and following him in the direction, trying not to ruin your gown.

" Look for anything round and shiny. It could be partially buried." Anthony said, doing his best not to slip away in the mud.

Letting your eyes scan the ground they stopped at a particular point. "I see something over there! It's partially hidden under the mud."

The both of you carefully unearth the ball, covered in mud, but otherwise intact. "Thank goodness! Our family's legacy is safe."

the both of you find yourselves alone in the middle of the muddy mess. Your clothes are drenched and covered in dirt. The rain pours down, adding to the chaos.

"Well, my love, it seems we've found ourselves in quite a predicament, the desire that burns within me is too strong." Anthony softly spoke, removing the sleeve from your shoulder

"Oh, stop it, Anthony. You're just as disheveled as I am." You chuckled, as Anthony pulled your body closer to his.

"But that's what makes this moment so perfect. No expectations, no inhibitions, just us, here in the mud." Anthony smiled at you, tightening his grip around you.

"Are you suggesting we make the most of this muddy situation?" You asked, removing the strand of hair that fell on his forehead.

"Absolutely, dearest, let's embrace the messiness and create a memory that will last a lifetime." You share a passionate kiss, your bodies intertwining as they revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

The rain continues to pour, washing away your worries and leaving only their love behind. The mud still clings to your clothes, but you pay no mind.

In this moment, nothing else matters except their love for each other.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #colin bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #x reader

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mrcavill88 · 10 months

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Inner demons

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Summary: There’s something so dark and attractive about a man who could kill you in a heartbeat. Even though Bucky’s twisted mind is healed, remnants of the winter soldier are still there. You and him have been through hell and back together, but his recents outbursts of anger are really starting to fumble your relationship

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is 18, Bucky is 102 XD) abusive Bucky, alcohol addiction, face slapping, yelling, begging, bondage, whipping, daddy kink, skin sucking/kissing/licking, nipple play, genital licking, fingering, crying, vibrator usage, unprotected sex, breeding, fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back with another fic: my very first Bucky fic. This is one is definitely, interesting, to say the least. Thank you all again for all the support you have shown me, hope you enjoy;)

Bucky Barnes

The man of the hour, the one true love of your life, someone who made you feel stable - did I mention an ex-assassin with over two dozen credited murders?

You never were 100% sure about being safe around him. Sure, he was... insanely attractive. His soft and short brown hair, the dark blue sapphires he had for eyes, pearly white teeth, chiseled and muscular body, and his deep voice; his mere presence was enough for butterflies to flutter around your tummy. But Bucky's dark history was always a thinking point for you.

"What if he goes crazy and tries to kill me?"

"What if he goes on another rampage and starts murdering everyone?"

"What if he doesn't love me?"

Your intrusive thoughts never got the best of you, but a single thought of Bucky's past made you quiver in fear.

But your relationship with him wasn't exactly, perfect. He might be free of his control from Hydra, but, he isn't exactly free from his new demons

Alcohol

His loneliness after Steve's death was apparent as he turned to heavy drinking to aid his sorrows. That's when you came in, you were initially there to help Bucky through his journey of rehab, were you successful? Fuck. no.

Every time you encountered him, instead of discussing his progress, you and he did the most lewd things together. He was completely taken aback by your beautiful and slim figure, he didn't need rehab, he needed you.

As of now, you lived with Bucky. You were both pretty set on spending your lives together, and you were both happy. Currently, he was out with Sam, you knew that Sam was the only other person Bucky was close with, he trusted him, and so did you. You laid in bed, waiting for Bucky to come home, hoping you guys could have some dinner together, maybe have some fun.

You heard a car pull into the driveway; you ran to the door, waiting to greet the love of your life. The door burst open, and there he was, running towards you.

"Y/N! I missed you so much baby, give me a kiss!" he said, hugging you, connecting his lips onto yours. The things you felt when you were in an intimate setting with him, they were surreal. You really loved him, but something wasn't right, you could tell something was off.

And then it hit you

The strong and unpleasant scent of alcohol. You pushed the man off of you, an acerbic look painted on your face as you looked him dead in the eye.

"Baby? W-why are you l-looking at me like that? W-what's wrong?"

You could tell that he was a little tipsy, if the smell wasn't enough, the slurring of his words definitely was. "Bucky, please be honest with me. Were you drinking?" you asked, squeezing his hands.

"Y/N! You know I'm sober! How could y-you doubt me?" his hands cupping your cheeks, his face getting redder and redder. "Baby, please believe me! I know I have a bad history with drinking but, please, I'm being honest."

"James! Don't lie to me! I love you too much for you to lie to me like this! How could you! I thought you were a new man!" you yelled, slapping his face. "Ok. You caught me, I'm so sorry Y/N. Sam just said it was one beer, but it ended up being several. Please forgive me! I promise, this won't happen again! Please, Y/N?" he pleaded, holding your waist.

The single tear that formulated on your cheek dried as you contemplated what you were going to do with Bucky. Was he really going to stop? Or was this another white lie that he told? You decided to give it one last chance, hoping the decision was right.

"Fine. I'm putting my trust in you Buck, please, just think about what this could do to you! It's going to kill you! Please just promise me that you'll stop, ok?" holding your pinky out. "I promise, baby. Thank you so much for believing in me" he said, latching his pinky onto yours, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. "Now, let's enjoy ourselves! The night is still young Y/N! I brought some takeout from that Mediterranean restaurant across town, I know you it's your favorite" he said, bringing you over to the polished dining table, adorned with the most appetizing food you've ever seen.

But one little nuisance on the table was there, a needle in a haystack, if you will. A tall bottle of whiskey. "Bucky, are you serious?"

"Baby. I know I promised I'd stop, but please! Just this once, I swear, this is the last one. C'mon, I know you like this brand. Don't try to deny it"

You hesitantly sat down, opening the bottle of whiskey. You knew Bucky would have some trick of his sleeve, so what did he do? He fished in one last drink, and it just so happened to be your favorite kind.

You two enjoyed your supper. You guys' just had a special bond, every time you were in each other's presence, you just felt, complete. Any thought of Bucky's past actions were completely eradicated as the expensive whiskey started hindering your brain.

Next thing you know, it was already 9 pm. Bucky was completely OUT, his pants undone and his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tried to stand up.

"Y-Y-Y/N, w-we haven't h-had some f-fun in a w-while. L-lets m-make the most of o-our night," he slurred out, bringing you to the couch as he gripped your right thigh. "G-get off o-of me, I k-knew you c-couldn't k-keep from d-drinking" you said, barely being able to connect your words together.

The cold air thickened as tension started to build between you two, both completely drunk. "H-how dare y-you speak to m-me like that! You l-little brat!" he yelled, slapping your face hard. The tension in the room completely skyrocketed as the man you loved, the man you trusted, struck your face.

"B-Bucky? W-what's gotten into you?" you sniffled, holding your face. "W-w-what's gotten into me? What a-a-about you! You spoiled l-l-little ingrate! You n-need to be taught a lesson! You need thicker s-skin, Y/N" he slurred out, dragging you to the basement.

The countless kicks and screams you let out were completely useless as the 6 foot man effortlessly powered through your resistance. He slammed you onto a stool and tied your arms above your head, leaving you helpless.

"T-that's better baby! You s-see, I'm much older than you. I had it w-way harder than you when I was your age! I'm only doing this because I love you, trust me, Y/N" he said, pulling out a long, matte black whip.

The sound of screams, cries, and begs filled the room as the absolute terror you felt completely consumed your body.

"P-please Bucky! I'm begging you! Please don't hurt me! I love you! Don't you love me?"

"Oh Y/N, you're so adorable, I-I'm doing this for your own good, I'm sorry little one"

The final words he said before he maliciously whipped your torso, the loud crack breaking the seemingly forever silence that formulated between the two of you.

The screams coming out of your mouth intensified as the everlasting sting coursed through your veins, tears falling from your eyes as the man you trusted, just whipped you.

"Oh baby! That's what I like to hear! But, I think we could have more fun! Don't ya think?" he said before he grabbed a pair of red scissors and started cutting up your clothes.

You winced as your body was slowly being exposed in front of the man, as if it hadn't happened before. But this was a new side of Bucky you've never seen before, much more, possessive

He rubbed your baby soft skin, the sight of your delicate and skinny posture truly astonished him. The only thing you had on was a tight little spandex, your cock hard from Bucky's presence alone.

"Y-you're mine now, understand?" he said, practically inches away from your face. You jerked a nod before the whip cracked against your body again, a gush of blood spewing from your body. You screamed mercilessly as the immense pain you felt was practically permanent.

"Bucky! Please stop! I-I can't take it anymore!" you begged, a raspy breath leaving your mouth as you felt the air suddenly get hot.

Turns out, it wasn't the temperature, it was Bucky

He took his jacket off, revealing his rippling muscles and toned body, laced by his tight black tank top.

"Oh baby, I almost forgot. Don't ever call me Bucky, again. I'm your daddy now, your master, are we clear?" grabbing your face tightly.

"Y-yes, daddy" you whimpered out, absolutely terrified yet turned on by Bucky's sudden dominance.

"Good boy! Oh Y/N. I'm so p-proud of you. You see? It's not so hard to behave, right? Now, here's your reward for being so good"

Mere milliseconds after his words, his lips latched onto your neck. Sucking the absolute life out of it; moans and whines escaped your mouth, your libido level skyrocketing as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

"Oh baby! I love tasting you! You're gonna feel so good when you're with daddy tonight, just wait and see"

His mouth continued attacking your neck, his lips traveling down your body onto your shoulders, biting and sucking on your skin, marking what was his. The angelic moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears, something that caused him to go even harder than he intended on.

His fingers caressed your nipples, goosebumps forming around them as Bucky relentlessly stimulated them.

"Daddy! Ugh! That f-feels so g-good!" you moaned as Bucky continued pinching and rubbing your nipples.

With no hesitation, he latched his lips onto your nipple, sucking on it with much determination and lust. The pleasure you felt was unreal; the tingles reaching the tips of your toes, making your cock twitch and harden as he continued sucking your nipples.

When he let out, your nipples were puffy and decorated with saliva, your breaths heavy and constant from all the pleasure you were feeling.

"Oh my sweet baby, Y/N. I love seeing you all horny and vulnerable like this. You make me want to do horrific things to you. But the night is young, I'm not finished with you" he said, viciously licking your neck.

His head was now face to face with your hole, your butt perfectly propped up so he was practically in breathing range of it. He kissed your inner thigh, prepping you for what was about to come next. The moans that left your mouth fueling the lewd activities he was about to commit.

His tongue started flailing in and out of your hole, swirling at a rapid pace. Your toes started to curl as you quickly became a sex doll for Bucky. "Daddy! Oh Fuck! Daddy I-I'm gonna c-cum!" you whined as he continued licking and playing at your sensitive hole.

"Baby! C'mon now, don't disappoint daddy like that! I know you're stronger than that, come on now, let me make you feel good"

You whimpered in response as your hole became drenched in Bucky's saliva, acting as a lubricant as he slowly inserted his thick fingers into your hole.

You screamed at the immense discomfort you felt, you've never been this intimate with Bucky ever in your life. "Does that feel good baby? You like when daddy shoves his fingers in your tiny little hole?"

All this dirty talk was making you queasy, your head practically spinning in circles as Bucky continued using your hole as a domain for his sexual pleasures. "I-I-I'm g-gonna cum!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, cock ready to burst at any moment.

"Oh no you don't" he whispered, gripping your tiny little pre-cum covered cock tightly.

"I know you're a good boy baby. Show daddy how good of a boy you can be! C'mon baby I know you can be a good boy. My good boy"

You snapped

Your cock jerked uncontrollably, drooling with ropes of white, thick cum. Your face turned red as you met Bucky's slightly disappointed face.

"Baby, I really hoped you could pull through for daddy. But it's ok! Daddy has a few tricks left for you"

"No daddy please! I can't take it anymore! I'm gonna... explode!" you pleaded, struggling to break out of your bonds.

"That's not how it works. I am your master, your daddy, you are my boy. You listen to me, absolutely no questions asked baby. Now, daddy has a new little toy here that he would love to try on you" he cackled, pulling out a pink vibrator.

Tears stained your cheeks as you knew what was about to come, you knew that you had no other choice but to comply, so why not enjoy it?

He attached the vibrator on your cute little cock and turned it on. You screamed as the vibrator tickled and pushed against your prostate, cum leaking from the tip of your cock.

"Daddy! Please take this o-off! I-I'm s-so horny!!!" you moaned as your bottom half twitched and shook from the absolute pleasure you felt.

Bucky noticed the state of mind you were in, somewhat amused by how fragile you were. And with the little bits of remorse still in him, he yanked the vibrator off your body, your cock worn out and drenched in pre-cum. You were a moaning, panting mess, cum disseminated over the floor.

"Oh baby~ You turn me on so much you don't even know. Such a sweet boy like you acting like this, this'll just be our little secret. Now, daddy has one last present for you, I promise, it's worth it" he said, slyly, before unzipping his pants. The big dick print in his boxers was making you so hard, oh you were so in love with him.

And then, oh!

A large piece of man meat sprang from his underwear as he pulled it down. The sheer size of it amazed you as he walked toward you.

"I want this to be a night for the books baby, let's make this special"

"Fuck me daddy!" you moaned before he slammed his monstrous dick into your tight hole. His thrusts: strong and firm.

"Oh fuck baby! I love how your little hole hugs my cock! You belong to me! No one else!" he yelled, a mixture of moans and whines filling the room as you both became infatuated with pleasure.

He starts to develop a fast and consistent rhythm with his thrusts, your moans getting louder and more high-pitched, making him even more turned on.

"Oh yeah! You love when daddy's big cock fucks your hole don't you! You naughty boy! You bussy is so greedy for daddy's cock isn't it" he growled, getting a broken and long moan in response.

Your body temperature started to climb higher and higher as the man you loved dearly continued fucking the daylight out of you. What you didn't realize? The fact that the ropes that put you in this very position broke in the midst of all the sexual pleasure you were feeling.

You didn't know how much longer you could handle this. Your bussy was practically broken after enduring all of Bucky's abuse, but the pleasure you felt continued to escalate by the second.

That's when, it happened again

Bucky's cock penetrated the most sacred and sensitive part of your entire body, your cock exploding with cum as your body twitched and quivered at the pleasure that basically consumed your entire body at this point.

"That's my boy! Oh y-you're daddy is close you're doing so well. Fuck!" he groaned as you could feel his thrusts growing sloppier.

You took notice of this and decided to give Bucky a taste of his own medicine: you pinched and twisted your nipples, causing your hole to tighten around Bucky's cock, making the man grow weak as his cock was being stimulated like no other before him.

"Oh shit! You naughty little bitch! Oh baby! I-I'm g-gonna cum!" he slurred out before unleashing his load inside your hole, strings of his white sticky cum polishing your insides an ivory color. You collapsed from the chair, your legs were practically immobile after all the pleasure and abuse you endured tonight.

Bucky crawled toward your destroyed figure, hugging you tightly and nuzzling your nose against his.

He carried you, bridal style, up from the basement into the bedroom you shared together.

"Now baby, let's get washed up, alright? We need to be perfectly clean before we sleep" he uttered, walking you over to the shower.

Despite the immense sexual activities that occurred that night, the shower you two had was one that was completely ingenuous.

You two shared a few loving, intimate moments, but nothing that was extreme. You were glad to have Bucky back. The old Bucky back. Sure, you loved the sex god that just fucked the shit out of you a couple minutes ago, but the little moments you have with him: you cherished forever.

You both got dried up and cuddled up on the bed together. "I'm so proud of you baby, we pulled off wonders tonight. I love you, Y/N" he said, kissing your forehead.

"I love you too, daddy" nuzzling your head against his chest.

You went to sleep madly in love with the man, and James Buchanan Barnes definitely loves you too~

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x fluff #buckybarnesxsmut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x male reader #sebastian stan x fluff #sebastian stan x male reader #gay #gaysmut #fanfic

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droogiesanddiscourse · 1 year

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HCs: Falling in love with Father Paul

Pairing: Father Paul x Reader (Midnight Mass)

A/N: WELL HELLO it has sure been a while hasn’t it. Life has caught up with me exponentially the past two years - graduating college, starting a full time job, personal growth and pitfalls. But, I truly miss writing, and was ready to attempt to get back into it after such a long hiatus. Anyways - hello, I love you all <3 I missed you all.

Warnings: Uhh, blasphemy? I guess?? Mentions of sexual content. Millie is somehow gone who knows where she is. Very subtle spoilers for Midnight Mass (2021). ANYWAYS.

✧ You confess your love for him after Paul takes it upon himself to walk you home from assisting him in decorating St Patricks for an upcoming event. Often jumping at any chance to provide services so you could grow closer to the enigmatic priest, anyone with half a brain could see how you’ve taken to him within the past few months. Just three simple words that sends a ripple through him. “I love you.”

✧ He takes in a deep breath, thinking carefully about his next words. Ever since his arrival, you have been one of his closest friends and confidants. “Please, don't say that,” Paul quietly pleads, exhaling from his nose.

✧ Not because he does not love you, in fact, it’s the exact opposite. He can’t bear to see you be hurt, knowing that he could never reciprocate the love you so truly deserve. He’s hurt those that he has loved before -- and will wrestle with those demons for a lifetime.

✧ Father Paul has taken his vows, and is seen as a pillar of faith, stability, and morals within the community. Given a second chance at fulfilling those vows, even. Still unable to face you, he stares down at his feet.

✧ Shaking his head, his brown eyes meet yours -- glassy with tears threatening to spill over. “You’re so young, it's...natural to have feelings like this. You’ll get over it, it’s okay.” A beat of silence passes between you. “Things like this have happened before. To me, I mean. And it hurts but, you’ll find someone one day. You're strong. You just have to...ride the wave is all.”

✧ And you know that this is how it will be. That you have to be okay with the reality. Scratching the back of his neck, he starts up his usual conversation again. Like everything was normal. “Now for tomorrow I was thinking th-”

✧ But it’s not normal. You cut him off before he can change the subject. “I-I know it’s wrong,” you stutter out, feeling embarrassed and already noticing the urge to backpedal. “I know its against any type of decency, and that we couldn’t be together even if it’s all I dream about. But I..couldn't go another day without confessing my feelings. I’m sorry if this changes things between us. Goodnight, Paul.”

✧ Against all rational, he walks forward cupping your face between his hands before you can slip into the safety of your house. And he kisses you. Before you take back what you’ve said. Before the inkling of regret crosses your mind. Before you pretend that there isn’t an undeniable connection between you.

✧ A kiss. Just once, hoping that maybe this one act would allow the both of you to move on without the prospect of “what if” looming in the back of your minds forever. Free whatever pent up tension was built. Paul has lived with enough regrets, and he didn’t want to add never saying he loved you, too. One dipped toe into the waters of sin, for the sake of a lifetime of purity. But the human condition is fragile; love comes slowly, then all at once. And once it’s there, it’s hard to deny it.

✧ A secret relationship begins to bloom between you. Subtle glances and gestures to each other during mass. Things such as his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer than polite company, making eye contact with him that flusters him while delivering his sermon.

✧ Intimately pressing his thumb against your lips as he offers you the holy eucharist, coaxing you to open your mouth. Pushing it onto your tongue when you do so, his finger lingers there for an unusual amount of time that seems...less than chaste to anyone viewing. The unholiest of thoughts passing through your mind.

✧ Sneaking around after mass like a teenage couple, unable to keep your hands off of each other. A desperate flurry of lips, tongues, and hands pushing up cloth to gain access to skin. Paul asking you to wear your prettiest Sunday dresses only for him. You have opened up this new world for Father Paul to explore, being considerably less experienced.

✧ Father Paul is old fashioned. Expect flowery, beautiful love letters arriving at your doorstep almost weekly. Hand delivered, of course. They always have the distinct smell of him - a mixture of his cologne and the heady scent of frankincense and myrrh, lingering from his vestments.

✧ Helping him understand how to use technology - while you know him as Father Paul, his true identity gives a more reasonable explanation for why he is so inept at modern technology. Others catch him constantly smiling down at his phone when your name pops up on his screen. You try to show him how to send photo images to each other, but often you get odd attempts at selfies that usually are blurred or too close up. While you prefer spending time together in person, it does give a safer alternative to constantly stay in touch without raising too much suspicion.

✧ Most times you see him one on one to be at night, when most of Crockett Island’s denizens are fast asleep. Just sitting in your kitchen, conversing and laughing over a cup of coffee. Some nights things progress further to the bedroom, but other nights the two of you find happiness just in the company of each other

✧ Late nights in his cabin, your head resting gently against his lap. Paul’s one hand flipping through his well loved and worn bible. The other hand idly running his fingers through your hair. The sound of the murky waves crashing against the shoreline mixed with Paul’s low hums of familiar hymns becoming the soundtrack of the evening.

✧ Mornings after accidentally staying over, too late to return to your house yet too early to make an inconspicuous exit. The window open, the heavy smell of sex and salt water clinging to both of your skin. Sometimes you just stare at him as he’s asleep, watching his chest rise and fall. His usually furrowed brows at rest, and signs of age seem to just melt off his face. Reaching your hand out to run a delicate finger against the curvature of his nose. Of his cupid’s bow. It's sinful how beautiful he is.

✧ He finds relief and only lets his guard down when you both visit the mainland together on some “church business.” This is the only time that you and Paul can reasonably be seen in public together. He can hold your hand, kiss you, and show as much public affection as you deserve without the watchful eyes of others. And stay together in a hotel room too, just like anyone else madly in love.

✧ Maybe you are his secret. One of many. But you are his best kept one by far.

#father paul hill x reader #father paul x reader #hamish linklater x reader #midnight mass 2021 #monsignor pruitt x reader #monsignor john pruitt x reader #hamfam

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scuttling · 11 months

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Frayed Ends

Fandom: Supernatural Pairings: Dean Winchester/Female Reader Word Count: 1,527 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected sex, Mentions of impending death Summary: It's the end of the world again; where better to find comfort than Dean Winchester's arms? A/N: Sometimes Dean's just too pretty to ignore.

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Staring out the window of the battered old motel, looking into the darkening sky, you try to count the number of life-or-death situations you’ve been in in the last year. You’ve been mortally wounded in battle, only to be healed by angelic figures that don’t quite live up to expectations; possessed by demons who are surprisingly more forthcoming than their winged counterparts; ripped to shreds by creatures with claws and fangs, things that are both as terrifying as the stories say and so much more complicated than most people know.

A loud crack of thunder booms, lightning splits the sky, and a warm hand presses firmly against the middle of your back. None of those things make you jump, not anymore.

“So,” Dean begins, reaching out to hand you a tumbler of whiskey—the good stuff, a high-dollar, top-shelf single malt. “Last night on Earth.”

You take the glass from him and peer into into it, through the rich brown liquid, before sipping the liquor, letting it burn smoothly, slowly; it seems like an oxymoron, but precisely what you need now, in the eleventh hour, when it feels like the world is about to fall to ashes at your feet. Again.

“That line work for you often?” you ask, half-teasing, and you down the rest of the alcohol. A shrug of his shoulders and a cocked half-smile tells you all you need to know. "Right, of course. Apocalyptic situation plus a rugged, handsome man who did his very best to prevent our impending doom... I imagine it isn't ever hard for you to get laid, but it's gotta be damn near impossible to be turned down under conditions like these."

He empties his own glass with a smack of his lips, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you, and smiles gently. It’s different from his usual grin, because it changes the look of his eyes, touching only the corners and making it appear as though it would physically hurt him to keep it up much longer.

He’s not being a creep, hitting on you when you’re vulnerable—you know because you know him, have been traveling the road off and on with him and Sam and occasionally Cas for over a year now. This is about desperation, a vain attempt to cling to something as your doomsday clock ticks down to zero, to connect with another person one more time before you reach the proverbial end of the road.

"You tell me,” he finally says, voice as rough and broken as you’d expect. You look away from his face abruptly, this open, emotional version of the man you’ve been kicking ass and trading sarcastic quips with making your stomach turn. He’s a good guy, no doubt about that, and he doesn’t deserve the life he’s been saddled with, or all the pain and misery that comes with it. He lived for his family, Sam, and now they are apart—no more angel teleportation, no more gas stations, no more cell service—and the end is so near you can see it in the darkening swirl of his green eyes, the tightness of his jaw.

Apparently the booze hasn’t slowed down your motor functions any, because you’re turning to press a hand to his chest before the thought has fully formed in your mind.

"I'd be honored, Dean Winchester," you breathe, pushing a hand softly through his hair; he inhales, lips parted and eyes flicking curiously over your face, before leaning down for a careful, gentle kiss.

Both of his arms wrap around you, embracing you warmly, and you slip your tongue into his mouth, giving yourself over to his strong arms and stubble without a second thought. It isn’t exactly a hardship, sleeping with the brave, honorable, beautiful hunter, and if it makes him feel even a fraction better about the whole dying bloody thing, how can you refuse?

"Thank you." It’s a sandpaper whisper pressed lightly against your lips, and one of his hands moves to cradle your head as the kiss deepens. He tastes bittersweet, a blend of mint and whiskey, and is far more tender than you would have imagined, taking soft sips of your bottom lip between toe-curling, passionate kisses. You push the light-colored flannel off of his shoulders, pleased with the muted groan he expels against your neck, and wrap your arms around his back like you can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of him.

He lifts you easily, of course, like you’re as weightless as you’re starting to feel, brings you to the bed and covers your body with his, hands ghosting over your throat and your face, down your arms, over your chest, your sides. The kisses grow rougher, needier, deeper on both your parts, and when you pull the soft, worn t-shirt over his head you press your fingertips into his skin, drag him closer, body begging for more.

“Dean… yes,” you sigh as he nips at your neck, your earlobe, his teeth sharp but careful. You move your hands over his stomach, his chest, the back of his head, pulling him to your mouth for more slow, wet kisses like you’ll find the solution to all of your problems inside him—or maybe that you want him to find it inside you. It’s a heady, dizzy feeling, and he feels it too, moaning into the kiss when you shift up to your knees, pulling your own t-shirt over your head.

“I need you,” he rasps, looking over your body, with all of its scars and bruises, like it’s a map of all the places you’ve been together. You unhook your bra, let it fall away, and then unbuckle his belt, help him strip down before removing the rest of your clothes too.

You feel a flush of heat when you’re both bare, not nervousness or shyness, but something you don’t have a name for, not yet; you probably never will, now so close to the end, so you just bask in the feeling that he’s all yours, that in your last moments you will be as connected as two people can be. That even if you die in vain, you won’t be dying alone.

You’d ask about protection right about now, but don’t see the point, considering the circumstances; instead, you climb into his lap and weave your fingers into his hair, kiss him so thoroughly he has to know you’re doing this because you want to and not just because he’d asked. Your nails graze over his shoulders, into his hair, murmur his name, and his soft lips become hard and unyielding as he kisses you breathless, like he wants it to mean something.

He lays you back against the bed, still made up from the day, and you let him, pulling your knees up so he can settle in close to you, so you can feel his body tense beneath your hands and he presses into you, fills you completely. “Fuck,” he grinds out, and his mouth finds yours again, his kisses softer, sweeter as he starts to move.

For the first time, you’re glad it’s pretty much just the two of you left in this desolate town; neither of you are quiet as you fuck, gasping and moaning and whining puffs of breath into the air between you. The sounds of your sex echo in the room—the groan of the bed frame, the sticky wetness soaking your thighs, Dean’s mouth as it runs about your beauty and your pussy and how heavenly you feel.

The room is so hot, your skin slick with sweat, his too, and he takes your hands in his and presses them up over your head, against the bed, holding you down with the force of his body as you both chase the feeling that you’re close to something big.

“Oh god, more, Dean, please,” you plead, hitching your legs up higher, tightening them around him as he thrusts quicker, deep and smooth. “You’re so good, so good, Dean.”

“You have to come for me. You have–” He lifts one of his hands away from your pinned wrists and strokes your cheek with it, brushing his thumb over your lips. His eyes are lighter now, honeyed, but still flooded with emotion as he combines tenderness with roughness and brings you so close to climax you can feel it pulsing beneath your skin. “You’re glowing,” he chokes out before his orgasm rips through him, strong enough to make him shake above you, and he leans in for a kiss that turns into your own climax, something powerful that makes you ache down to your bones.

You whimper against his shoulder as he slows, and he releases your arms, pulls them around him so you embrace as you pant through it together. You feel both completely spent and filled with buzzing energy, and when he looks down at you his expression is… awed. There’s no way to mistake that face for anything else.

“Holy shit. I think that worked,” he says, almost astonished, and then his phone vibrates on the bedside table and you turn simultaneously to look over at the glowing screen.

Sam.

A/N: Didn't mean for this fic to mean anything or to lead to anything more, but it kind of did, so who knows?

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader

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lagoonalake · 4 months

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THE BOYZ IDEAL TYPE - PART 2

Part 1 here

Personality: 3 of wands, high priestess, ace of cups

Someone with a quiet intensity, very focused on their goals, ambitious, driven, independent, with a mysterious aura. He wants to feel the depth of the connection, that raw, primal emotion of love, pure emotion, something buried deep within him. And he wants the relationship to be very intimate, irresistible. Someone who follows their heart, who is driven by passion. Someone very stubborn, very determined, with strong opinions. Someone who is very protective and ready to fight for him, as he would for them. Someone who is intriguing, doesn’t expose much, very private and secretive. Someone seductive and alluring. capricorn, scorpio, virgo, aries

Appearance: 8 of wands, 7 of pentacles, the hermit

He is the type who can notice someone and then be completely enraptured with just one stare. He tends to go for very private people, quiet, but who stand out nonetheless, with strong sexual magnetism, but not the type to exhibit their sexiness that much, yet it’s still very present and very noticeable. Eyes are what draw him the most. Could prefer a touch of darkness especially in the eyes. A rather somber appearance overall. He also for sure will notice the “goods” on a person’s body. virgo, scorpio, taurus, capricorn

Turn offs: 4 of swords, the magician, strength

Shallow people, people who are too much in their head, asking too many questions, too chatty, too intellectual and disconnected from their emotions. People who won’t surrender to the attraction, who won’t let him see their raw, most intimate and most vulnerable side, who will only let him see the first layer of their personality, but the relationship is very surface level. A trickster, someone manipulative, hypocritical, two faced. air signs

JUHAKNYEON

Personality: the magician, the fool, ace of swords

A very honest person. Could not be the most tactful or diplomatic, but at least they can’t lie. What you see is what you get. Someone eager to explore. Curious, interested in the world, independent. Funny, witty, light-hearted energy, sociable, warm, a bit childlike. Likes to do a lot of activities. A prankster. Very active, spontaneous type of person. Positive and optimistic. Not too complicated. Easy to read and to understand. Someone very resourceful who can always find a solution to everything. Combative in a light-hearted way. Someone who likes to talk and laugh a lot, who always has a story to tell. Sassy, could even be a bit vulgar but in a funny way. Someone simple not afraid to laugh at themselves and others. aries, gemini, aquarius, sagittarius, uranus

Appearance: strength, 10 of pentacles, king of wands

Someone who looks physically strong and has warm, reassuring aura. More masculine energy. Someone who can look a bit proud and flashy. Sunny type of aura. Big hair. Could like red or brown hair, warmer colors. Very radiant appearance. Big smile. Someoen who looks healthy. Someone who looks familiar to him, could be someone who look like a parent. leo, taurus, aries, cancer

Turn offs: the high priestess, 6 of pentacles, 2 of swords

Someone too quiet, too mysterious, who he’d have to try too hard with to get to know, someone too submissive or polite, too "well-mannered", “proper”, demure. Someone indecisive, slow to act, or who never seems to have any opinion on anything, who avoid conflicts at all cost. Someone too passive without any big goals. Someoen who never expresses anything, who never let their wild funny side out. Someone who find everything cringe and is always afraid to appear ridiculous. cancer, virgo, pisces, libra, scorpio

SUNWOO

Personality: page of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, 10 of swords

He wants to be a provider. He wouldn’t mind being with someone poor as long as they manage his money well. There is also something about wanting to be with someone with a similar background, I don't know if he comes from a more humble background, but he wants his partner to come from the same place as he does, to understand this side of him. He may like to “rescue” people who feel abandoned or need his help, someone he can be useful to. He's also attracted to more simple types of personalities, more "real", raw, realistic, who know the reality of life, have been exposed to the world at large, especially when it comes to money, jobs...etc. Tough person with a good head on their shoulder, very practical.

saturn, taurus, aries, virgo

Appearance: 5 of swords, the sun, page of swords

Someone lean, with long limbs, brighter flashier colors, he may like someone who tries different hairstyle and more crazy hair colors. A bit of an androgynous style. Someone who stands out. I’m seeing an idol type of look. Looks maybe a bit intimidating but who can also show vulnerability. Street style, colorful, a bit edgy. Defined features, sharp eyes. Creative style. aries, aquarius, pisces, gemini

Turn offs: 4 of pentacles, 9 of wands, queen of pentacles

Someone who spends too much or who is stingy. There is a lot about money here. Someone who is too possessive or jealous (though I'm getting he tends to at rather possessive himself, so there is a double standard here). Someone who earns more than him and possibly could be a bit bossy about how to handle his money or just bossy in general. Someone who is a bit too combative and stubborn, not too naive and who would see through his bs, because I see that he has a tendency to act a bit controlling with his partners, treat them like his possessions a bit. earth signs especially capricorn

ERIC

Personality: 8 of wands, 3 of wands, 5 of wands

People who are fierce, impulsive, competitive, dynamic. Very physically active and athletic. More actions than words. Strong mentally and physically. What you see is what you get. Great motivators. People who are always in movements. I’m getting adventurous explorers, martial artists, people who are very fast paced. Always looking for a challenge. Quick to act, quick to read, quick to react, easy to understand, very direct and straightforward. All or nothing, black and white types. Brave, powerful, bold, proud, individualistic, passionate people who know what they want, with a clear vision. aries, mars, fire signs in general

Appearance: the hierophant, wheel of fortune, 6 of pentacles

He doesn’t really have a specific type. He tends to just find attractive what most people find traditionally good looking, his tastes are nothing particularly wild or unconventional, just not too specific. He could like a darker skin tone though compared to korean beauty standards. Just in general, the person has to be “pretty” in his eyes, and give him a good impression, have a nice smile, and seem friendly enough that he would want to approach them. venus, jupiter

Turn offs: queen of wands, 10 of wands, 5 of swords

The negative side of what he is attracted. So when the person becomes domineering, when it creates conflicts in the relationship. When the person always wants to have the last word. When the person is so caught up in their goals and ambitions that they have no time for anything else and they are exhausted and he becomes worried about them. Someone who can be too much, wants to do so much that they can’t appreciate what they already have. fire signs, mars

#the boyz #the boyz ideal type #the boyz tarot #q #juhaknyeon #eric #sunwoo #kpop tarot #kpop reading #changmin

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evermourning · 8 months

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𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐲 - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader (bewitched series pt. 6)

genre: fluff, comfort, slice of life, based off "misty" by laufey (original song by johnny mathis)

wc: 0.7k

warnings: (not proofread), established relationship, language, y/n is an absolute HOPELESS ROMANTIC, just tooth-rotting fluff

you were quite content spending the rest of a rainy day like this, snuggled into your boyfriend's side, wearing one of his shirts, as his thumb languidly slid back-and-forth soothingly across your shoulder. you leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. your cheek rested against his chest.

"you're so pretty, innie." you mumbled, looking up at him with big, adoring eyes. jeongin laughed, kissing your cheek.

"why, thank you. so are you." he replied. your eyelids fluttered shut at the immense comfort of the rise-and-fall of his chest.

it was silly, looking at it now, that you were so goddamn infatuated with your boyfriend. there was just something about him that made you want to dig a hole inside him and live there permanently. this sensation was so new, and so strong, you felt utterly helpless, as if you were lost at sea. sometimes, it was just too tough to tread water.

but the clouds were pushed away from their spot covering the sun as a strong hand reached into the depths of the deep to pull you out and dry you off, and that hand belonged to yang jeongin.

with a kind, loving smile you were pulled ashore. he was the breath of oxygen filling your lungs, the fluffy towel wrapped around your shoulders, and the brightness of the summer sun itself.

you loved him to fucking pieces.

when you'd walk around the city, examining little shops and markets as their owners opened up, smells of espresso and fresh books wafting across streets, jeongin's hand would ever so inconspicuously brush against yours. this would continue until his big hand sat connected to yours, fingers intertwined and palms touching. when this happened, you felt as if you were absolutely going to pass away. all of your overflowing happiness had been condensed into a single cloud, floating gaily in the vibrant blue sky.

you just felt...misty, being around him. this feeling of intense doting that grew larger and larger and larger with every passing day was something of great interest to you. what was it about him that had you absolutely falling over yourself? was it his air of attractiveness and genuine warmth, was it his personality? it was probably both combined, actually.

your cheeks began to warm up significantly as you thought about this, and you sat up.

"i'm gonna go grocery shopping." you stammered, pulling on your jacket. as you went to run out the door, hiding your face in your hands, jeongin grabbed your wrist.

"are you really? it's pouring rain, baby." he laughed gently, grabbing an umbrella. "i'll come with you. don't want you to catch a cold now, do we? that wouldn't be good. i wouldn't be home a lot to take care of you, and i'd honestly be really worried. deal?" as he stared at you, concern and devotion in his brown eyes, it was like a symphony had began its most famous piece. thousands of violins played a melodious concerto and the brass and woodwinds backed up the beautiful song as it ended dramatically and beautifully in a lovely crescendo of sorts. just by hearing his voice, your feet were already lifting off the ground. it was simply lovely to be in his life, hell - even in the same timeline as him.

sometimes you feared you'd wake up again and see this all gone. you'd be alone and confused all over again, quiet tears streaming down your cheeks. was he just being nice to you? was he leading you on? was this pity? and then, in the very tip of your heart's apex was some burning desire for him to do this, and then admit that you were all he wanted. you were lost in this never-ending maze, and if jeongin was finding the way out, then that was the direction you would head towards, forever and ever.

lost in the wonderland that he'd created, sometimes feeling more disoriented than usual, he was the golden road leading you to your home (him). if you couldn't tell anything apart, he was the soft voice in your ear explaining everything to you in specific detail.

oh, you were way too in love with yang jeongin.

#ren writes!! <3 #evermourning #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #yang jeongin #jeongin skz #i.n skz #i.n stray kids #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #bewitched set...entry vi

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hwnglx · 10 months

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who in nct dream is dating?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

mark

is he dating? queofc, 7ofw, kingofp

yes. but, he's extremely protective over this relationship and wants it to stay very private. doesn't want it to get inbetween his work, and strongly separates the two.

what kind of a person is he dating? queofc, justice, 8ofsw, temp, 2ofsw

> feminine energy > water and air placements (i'm getting strong libra and cancer vibes) > very reserved and private person, most likely an introvert > seems to know them for a while now > likely to be a non-idol > short, black hair > beautiful baby face > big and expressive eyes

renjun

is he dating? 8ofw, pagofsw, 4ofw

yes, but seems to be more of a talking stage thing. it might be more of a distanced relationship where they don't get to meet a lot and are testing things out for now. but they keep in contact by texting and always keep watch on each other. happy and cute connection whenever they reunite.

what kind of a person is he dating? 6ofw, 3ofc&aceofp, 9ofc, queofswrx

> very popular, confident and successful > scorpio vibes > might seem hard to approach and cold on the outside > person of renjun's dreams (he seems to be more into her for sure) > might've started out as friends first > likely to be an idol > longer, light brown hair

jeno

is he dating? 8ofc, char, 3ofc&knofc

no, not officially. but he seems to have been through a breakup and is now pursuing other people, likely within his circle of friends. just flirting. though something about his energy is off. i think he might feel a little frustrated and might be forcing things too much. there's a need to slow down and let things flow more.

haechan

is he dating? justice, 6ofc, lovers

yes, kinda? he's dating someone he's known for a while. the energy is a little complicated though, they might've been through some challenges before.

what kind of a person is he dating? magic, pagofp, hieroph, aceofsw, 4ofc, wheel

> very talented and skilled, captivating presence (they get praised and acknowledged for their talents a lot) > fire and air placements (strong aquarius vibes) > humble and down to earth > chill and laidback energy > likely to be an idol too > might enjoy experimenting with their looks a lot

jaemin

is he dating? 5ofw, world+knofp&8ofc, 3ofsw

no. he might've been in a relationship that came to an end after fighting a lot. the break up was slow to happen, but still caused him some heartbreak, that's still lingering.

chenle

is he dating? 4ofp, tower, queofp&9ofw, 4ofc

no, but he's very secretive of this info. some messy energy here. there might be someone in his workplace he's crushing on, but i don't see any significant connection. the person seems to be more guarded and hard to get close to.

jisung

is he dating? aceofp, queofswrx, 6ofsw

no. but there is a possibility he started something with someone, possibly active in the industry too. i'm getting the feeling he felt very unappreciated, they might've harshly rejected him, just didn't treat him that well. he's moving on.

#kpop tarot #nct tarot

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never-ending-fanfic · 7 months

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Catching up with The Dragon Prince and decided to make a Crossover AU concept except all member of the Ghost Crew are different elves

(mind you I'm not deciding based on appearance or signature color ect I'm going with the General Vibe™ so it's rather personal, you can disagree or share your ideas)

Let's also say there are no humans in this case scenario kay? Let's dig in!

Hera- Skywing Elf, definitely, no doubt. Her love of flying is too strong for me to place her in a different type. She's also that "less than one in ten" case that's born with wings. I would say her horns would be long and curved to mimic the original lekku, I'd keep her green color (even though it's not usual for Skywing Elves to have that skin tonr) but maybe I'll add some silver/gray touches to

Kanan- Startouched Elf, going with what we know about that type, they're very rare and so are the Jedi after the fall of the Republic, so that's a nice touch. He'd have a deep indigo skin and obviously horns (to add the touch one could be chipped, to signify that he's been through a lot), his primal source is the stars ofc and ofc he's trying to teach Ezra about the arcanum with the stars, since that type of connection is rare and not much is known about it

Ezra- Startouched Elf, everything goes same as for Kanan, but I feel Ezra could have obviously smaller horns and a little lighter blue skin. He would also figure out the arcanum to more than one primal source and would definitely try Dark Magic at some point (just like how Ezra was tempted by the dark side in the show)

Sabine- Earthblood Elf- hear me out, she would definetly use her Earth Magic to create beautiful art, wether it would be with plants gems and crystals, she would have brown skin and green hair (at least originally, she could dye it later)

Zeb- Sunfire Elf, he would definitely still be a captain of the royal guard in Lux Aurea before its fall (lile Lasan) and it definetly fits that this type of Elves are known for amazing weapons (SWR Ladats- bo-rifle, TDP Sunfir Elves- Sunforge blades and armour) and his "heat-being mode" would definitely be something to see... He doesn't use the Sun Magic often, but like all Elves, he's connected to his primal source- the sun

Kallus- Moonshadow Elf, they're known for being great assasins and infiltrators, I think it would sit well with Kallus' spying abilities (and you cannot tell me that the phrase "by the light of Lothal's moons" doesn't fit perfectly!) He would still be pale with a bit of purple-ish hints, his markings would resemble his freckles, his hair would be white. He would know know a few spells but wouldn't rely only on them. He originally used Dark Magic, but after becoming one of The Good Guys™, he stopped. He's the perfect opposite of Zeb at first glance although also going with @seth-shitposts post about Kallus being like a moon that reflects the light around him, this is perfect.

Chopper- he would be Bait, but more outrightly unhinged

Not sure if I'm gonna write that or draw that but I wanna do SOMETHING

#star wars rebels #star wars #swr #sw rebels #hera syndulla #ezra bridger #sabine #kanan jarrus #zeb orrelios #garazeb orrelios #alexsandr kallus #kallus #agent kallus #the dragon prince #elves #crossover

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foap-enjoyer · 8 months

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Branding | Scarring | Collar

Collar.

'Soap's been captured. Turns out this time, the torture is... a little different than he's used to.'

Trigger warnings for this prompt: Vomit, starvation. Ships for this prompt: Ghoap. Word count: Around 3000/4000

Read it here, on AO3: Ouch. - Chapter 7 - Tsukuyomi_Ravioli - Call of Duty (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

Wrote this incredibly sick, I love October but holy SHIT.

Chained, collared, and left out in the cold. Like an animal. Like a literal dog.

This wasn't weird at all...

No, no it was very much weird.

The SAS trained him for all sorts, back when he was a rookie. All stereotypical shit you see in movies. Waterboarding, nail pulling, neck slashing, and so forth. But being treated like a mutt wasn't in the field manual. At least, not in the one he read.

Sitting ass first in wet, freezing mud sucked in any circumstance, but was, also, common. Being a soldier and all. They ended up in the mud nine times out of ten on missions, and in training, too. He can still remember crawling under barbed wire fences in the rain and sitting on his backside in the mud staring up at his supervisor waiting for instructions.

But, unlike those times, these pricks had gone ahead and done something a… little unexpected. Stolen his clothes right off of his fucking back, leaving him practically naked. At least they’d been courteous enough to let him keep his skivvies. Not that the soaked, once-blue fabric felt much better against his skin than nothing at all.

Oh, and the collar, of course. How could he forget the collar?

It was one of those old, worn leather collars made for ‘intimidating’ dogs. Little metal studs, not long enough to be of use circled his neck, complete with a little dog-tag. How nice. If he tilted his head down slightly, he could just make out the ‘name’ he’d been given: Bitch. How flattering!

The collar itself wrapped snug against his Adam's apple, a little hoop at the back connecting him to a nearby pole, stood tall and strong in contrast to the rest of the barren wasteland of a base. He was awkwardly connected to it through a metal chain, a huge one that he’s certain isn’t for dogs, much less humans, given that his neck tilted to the side with the sheer weight. Certainly good news for his posture, no doubt.

The pole didn’t just work as a chaining post for just him, of course. This was where they put all the dogs of the camp. Actual dogs, this time. He, as far as he knew, was the only human here. There were several poles, dotted around the base from what he heard, and his was known as ‘number seven’. It housed three other dogs, all anti-social little fuckers who coiled up as far as their chains could go, snarling and growling at anything that moved.

There was, actually, a kennel too. A nice little semi-dry spot, built of sticks and logs, for him to relax, except that was located at the base of the pole. Which wouldn’t be a problem given his grouchy neighbours if it weren’t for the one large, huge, brown-tan muscular dog that resided there. He supposed it was like… an alpha? Either way it scared the shit out of him enough that he much preferred his spot in the freezing mud.

He fucking hated dogs. His one weakness. Hell, his ‘kryptonite’, if you will. Terrified the shit out of him ever since he was a youngin. He was never able to shake the terror out from his heart, and he kind of liked it that way. Any other person probably would have sauntered right over to the ‘cute little puppy’ and lost their face for it. Not him.

Of course, this meant that the shelter was out of bounds. Which was just fine by him. It was his only choice in this whole situation, and he was glad to have it. He’d rather not lie down with literal dogs and risk losing his manhood or something, thanks to ‘Buddy’ or ‘Chief’ feeling a little peckish while he slept.

So here he sat, trembling like a flag in the wind, soaked to the bone, watching this dog nap peacefully out of the storm, save for its face and tail, exposed out of the small tunnel that made up the kennel. That brought some sort of sick pleasure to him. He was glad the dog was suffering at least a little, like the rest of them.

Made him almost feel happy about having his fellow shelter-less neighbours. Dogs or not.

Anyway.

Days in the camp, usually, went a little like this:

He would wake up to the howling, barking, and snarling of dogs. Of course. Following that rude awakening, he would peel himself off of the dirty ground underneath him and await food. Not that he ever actually got food. Only ‘good’ dogs got food, and he didn’t qualify, apparently.

But if he was honest, he was kind of glad. The slop the mutts were served was, frankly, disgusting. It was brown, and sludgy, and kind of looked like shit, if he was honest. Probably tasted like it too.

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself watching them all happily scarf it down like it was the finest of dining, licking frantically until it was sparkling clean, not a dot of slop left. They probably didn’t even clean the bowls, now that he thought about it. Not when the dogs were constantly on the verge of hunger. Which was yet another thing to add to his checklist of being grateful he didn’t have to eat that crap.

Next, after breakfast, well… He would just… sit there.

What else was there to do? He sometimes would check the chain, check his collar, look for some sort of wear or tear in the fabric and the metal. Or sometimes, when he was too exhausted to look, he would simply hold the chain up. Give his poor neck a break from snapping awkwardly to the side under the weight. It left little relief, so he usually resorted to laying down, curled on his side just like his dog friends.

Once every few days, someone would come and collect him. He’d be forced to waddle on all fours into one of the houses that the people owned, like a literal mutt. They led him to the same room practically every time; the dining quarters. Full of men and women alike, munching down on mouth-watering food. Literally. His mouth would salivate as soon as he even saw the doors to the room. Pavlov would be proud, that stupid psychologist.

There, they would chain him to a table leg, and then they would eat their lunch.

If he tried to stand? Hit. Tried to grab some of the food from above? Hit. Hell, if they dropped something, and he deemed it free-dibs, he was hit. He just had to sit there on aching knees and watch them eat meal after meal. People laughed at him, kicked him when they walked past, teased food right above his face, and he just had to take it, or face being hit. Hit even more than he was already, really.

Starvation was a big issue for him, at this point, but not an issue he was unfamiliar with. He knew it all too well, a common tactic for interrogating soldiers. He knew this was their plan from the get go, and he’d been more than prepared mentally, but being around food so much was hard. Watching the dogs eat their sludge had been hard enough, and now he had to smell and see real human food. Burgers, hotdogs, chips, pizza. Not to mention the fact that the only drink to relieve his raspy throat he ever got was when it rained and he stuck his tongue out. They had Cola in here, Fanta, lemonade, water, squash. Coffee, too. Anything and everything.

“Does the puppy want some?” A woman cooed, waving a half-eaten sausage back and forth in front of him like a hypnosis. When he didn’t budge, the only thing to move being his eyes to follow the food, she laughed. “The puppy knows tricks.” She looked back up to the rest of the people at the table. She reached down to tussle his wet, mucky hair. Overgrown from his time out away from a good pair of scissors. “Its learnt to stay!”

The table erupted into laughter, and one man stood up, moving over to him. He kneeled down, a slice of pizza in his hand. A sliver, not enough to satisfy even an ant, but a slice nonetheless. “You hungry, mutt?”

He wasn’t going to give it to him, so what was the point? He simply stared forward blankly. He was too exhausted for this, his head hurt, his whole body hurt. He just wanted to be taken back outside.

“Hey.” A click of the fingers and he was back in the world of the living. The man was still there, eyes serious. “You can have it.”

He curled a brow. Seriously?

The man grinned, lifting the slice up before spitting a wad of saliva onto it, holding it out once more, tossing it to rest between his knees on the dirty floor. “Here you go!”

He was so tired.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here for now; starvation curled around his mind like a coiled snake, stealing any rational thoughts.

It was watering him down, he realised. Watering him down to a dog, like the rest of the mutts around him.

When was the last time he’d spoken? Eaten? Drank?

When was the last time he was held?

He wanted to be held. He wanted someone to curl their arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. He would even be okay with the dogs, he just needed something living, breathing. Something that had an ounce of love left in it, at this point.

He’d tried, once, to get closer to one of his neighbours, out of sheer desperation and loneliness. He had a nice bite mark to the left arm to thank for his troubles. At least, he assumed he did, he was covered in enough mud that no matter how much he swiped at it, it never revealed the wound underneath. But he could feel it, aching and hurting. Got a glimpse of blood sometimes, through the muck.

At least this experience had sort of cured his fear of dogs momentarily. He supposed that was kind of cool.

He was getting sick.

He wasn’t too sure what from; be it the cold, the mud, his wound, the starvation, the dehydration. Whatever it was, it was making him ill. Making him vomit. Not that he brought up anything but bile.

Turns out, though, that bile works sort of as good as water. Not that he would swallow it again, fuck no, he wouldn’t stoop that low. The bile helped him weaken the mud clung to his skin. Allowed him to get a look at that arm wound finally.

Yeah, it wasn’t looking good.

Red, raised, and bumpy. Yellow goo oozed out of the ragged puncture marks left behind, red mixed in. Blood, he realised. He could’ve cried. What if that dog had rabies? Was he going to die?

He could have laughed, actually- because only now did he think about death? Typical John Mactavish.

Thinking about death made him remember that he had a team. A team that would come and get him.

They’d find him, they’d save him.

Right?

He was right. Of course he was right, he was John ‘Soap’ fucking Mactavish! Sergeant of 141. Fuck the odds!

His team came for him, they came, they came, they came, they came. They were here. Somewhere here, only metres from him.

He could hear them, hear gunshots; screaming and shouting. The dogs had all risen with the change in normalcy, barking and yapping and howling in confusion and fear. Even little old ‘Buddy’ as he’d named him, that big fucker hogging the kennel, had moved to peer at the windows as they shattered from sprayed bullets. At the people sprinting for their lives out the doors, whizzing past them.

He grinned tiredly.

It was 141. It had to be.

It was his team. His team, all his, they’d come for him. They were taking him home. He was going home. Today, not tomorrow, not next week, not ever, but today.

He was so fucking exhausted.

He’d just rest his head for a moment, on the ground. That wouldn’t be too bad. They would find him, surely. He was the only non-dog here suffering, after all.

They’d find him. He trusted them.

“-oap, Soap. Soap-” Hands over his face, his eyes, his cheeks. He groaned.

“Fuck,” Someone hissed, and fingers jabbed themselves into his neck, attempting to wiggle between the leather and his skin. It was fruitless, he had tried himself. “Get this collar off of him.”

“I don’t have any bolt-cutters, sir. Ghost has them.”

“Alright, alright. Simon? I need you over here, stat.”

A voice, static-y and far away, “You find him?”

“Yeah.” The voice breathed out, relieved. “Yeah, we found him alright. East side. Need your set of cutters.”

“He awake?”

“Going in and out at the minute.” A hand softly rubbed at his shabby hair. “Soap?”

A wisp of a grunt. “On my way.”

He blinked an eye open. It was Gaz’s face to greet him, eyes wide with adrenaline and worry. Instantly, upon seeing his own, they softened. Another hand reached for him, cupping his cheek. “Soap.”

Price bombarded himself into the picture a moment later. “Son.”

He felt hot tears well up, dripping down his cheeks. Price ever-so-gently wiped them away. “It’s okay.” He promised, “We have you now.”

Soap let out a raspy sob, reaching a hand upwards desperately for the older man, but he couldn’t. It fell short, trembling and weak. He was exhausted beyond belief after God knows how many days out here.

Price was there, however. Of course he was, and quickly took his hand into his own, rubbing over his muddied knuckles. “You’re alright, son.” He soothed, “You’re alright.”

His eyes began to close once more, but Gaz tapped his dusty forehead. “Don’t sleep, Soap.” Concerned eyes met his own when he blinked them back open. “Don’t. Ghost’ll be here soon, okay?”

“Si’?” He coughed, chest seizing at the simple word. He curled in on himself, groaning.

Gaz’s hand moved to rub against his back. “Yeah.” He promised, “Ghost is here.”

As if on cue, footsteps thundered against the dirt, sprinting directly towards them. It stirred the dogs back up, snapping and growling at whoever had dared come into their territory.

A hand quickly fell onto his shoulder, hard. A more gentle one on his head, turning him slightly from where he lay on his side, facing him to the sky. He blinked.

“Johnny.” Ghost’s voice was impossibly watery. Thick with emotion. It was unlike him to be so open in public. The big softie.

He cracked a soft smile up at the masked man, “Si’.”

“We need to get this thing off.” Price was explaining to Ghost as the man kneeled down, Soap’s own head resting on the dirt between the man’s knees, almost.

Gloved hands touched his neck. Ghost shook his head, frustrated. “No can do. Too close to his skin.” He explained to the others, rather than to Soap. He couldn’t blame him though, what use was he in this situation? “I can cut the chain, though. For now.”

Price nodded, still stroking the skin of Soap’s knuckles, “Yeah, that works.”

“What’re we gonna do with all these dogs, Cap?” Gaz piped up, peering at the snarling mutts. “There’s so many of them.”

Price shrugged, “Shelter, probably. Though I doubt they’ll find homes. They look downright feral.”

Soap almost felt bad for what were soon to be his ex-neighbours.

Almost.

The chain was cut with a quick snap, and he was free.

Hands were helping him up before he could even process this. He stumbled once his feet were under him. Nausea coiled in his stomach and he leaned over, arms still holding him up, to dry heave into the dirt. Almost dry heave, he clearly still had some bile to at least vomit back up. It hit the floor sickeningly. It made him want to puke more just watching it.

Price let out a soft wounded noise, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s alright, son, take your time.”

He coughed, wheezing. Ghost was on his left. He watched him move in the corner of his vision, almost in slow-motion, adjusting his grip slightly and-

He yelped, like an actual dog, flinching away from the man’s touch as gloved nails pressed into the wound hidden under mud and muck. He watched as hurt flashed in Simon’s eyes, tears in his own as he held back a sob. I’m sorry, he wanted to cry out, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-

“Nevermind.” Price said curtly, “We need to get him out of here. Now.”

“Alright, love, let's get this off you.”

He clutched onto Simon’s hand as the doctor moved, hands searching the endless amount of drawers until she came up successful, holding a pair of fabric cutters. She held them out for Soap to see. “I’ll use these, okay?” She said softly, kindly, “I’ll just ease it in the gap between the collar and off it comes. Is that okay with you?”

He nodded, and she smiled, scooting forward on her wheelie-chair so she was in front of him. “Good, good.” She peered up at Ghost next to him like his deathly shadow. “Can you hold the collar for me?”

“Gotcha.” Ghost’s hands wrapped around his neck first, stretching the fabric sideways to attempt to make a gap. He coughed as it pressed against his throat uncomfortably.

“Alright” The doctor said as she began to work. “Looks to be a big enough gap here...” He could feel metal worming its way against his skin. He fought to hold himself still. “You’re doing great.” She encouraged, “Aaaanddd-”

Snip!

Slowly, painfully so, the thing was pulled from his skin.

She winced, blowing out a breath. In her hands, the dirty fabric. “Hell of a mark you got there, soldier.” She held up the collar for him to take. When Ghost glared at her, she chuckled, “Souvenir?”

He took it in shaking hands. It rested on his lap heavily.

His eyes bore holes into it as Ghost’s fingers came to rest on the back of his neck, beginning to rub at the marks adorning his skin.

He was truly free.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he choked on a sob.

She smiled sadly, moving to stand, aiming for the door. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

As soon as the door shut with a soft click, tears were streaming down his face.

Ghost’s fingers caught them gently. “Sweetheart?”

Soap dove for the man, curling into him with a wail.

Strong hands enclosed around him. A soft voice in his ear. “I’ve got you.” he promised wetly, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“I’m free?” He choked, like it was a question. Like it was something he couldn’t quite believe yet.

“You’re free.” A kiss on his head. “You’re free, love.”

“I’m free.”

36 notes · View notes

daily-rayless · 7 months

Note

Tear for the character meme, if you’re still doing that :)

Definitely!

Favorite thing about her:

There's a lot I like about Tear. She's the sort of serious, knightly figure (with a secret emotional side) that I often gravitate towards. I think the game does a good job positioning her between the hero party and the villain party -- primarily through her relationship with Van, but also through her connections to Legretta and Mohs, and even Yulia and the Score that everyone's fighting over. Early in the game, she's very much on her own side, not really aligning herself with Luke until after Akzeriuth. But I'd say my favorite thing is her character design. I think she's just beautiful, the contrast of the ashy brown hair (and so long and sleek) with her piercing blue eyes. I really like that her costume is predominantly brown -- a color that often feels underused in character design -- and her dress variously suggests a sorceress' gown, a knightly tabard, maybe even a nun's habit. (And of course a cello.) You can see at a glance that she's a serious, mature character, but she also loves beauty, which we initially see through her music.

Least favorite thing about her:

I know there's some debate in the fandom over this, but I feel like her English voice actor didn't get the best direction. Tonally, I think the voice is a good fit for her, and it makes sense for Tear's performance to be downplayed and subtle. But I feel like she sometimes sounds a little too lifeless -- maybe if they'd voiced the skits, where Tear gets her more funny and emotional moments, the performance would feel more rounded.

Favorite line:

Having just said that, I think there are some moments where her VA does bring it. Her first scene at Fabre Manor, when she shouts that she's going to kill Van, that's a great moment. I also think the scene in Daath's library before the Tower of Rem, where she tells Luke that she'll hate him if he becomes a hero, the VA does a good job of making her sound both stern and deeply shaken. Her "I love you" is also well done, emotional without sounding sappy or forced. I could pick any of those, but I'm going to go with her screaming "Luke! Stop!" at the Tower of Rem. I love that we've had this build up of her refusing to interfere with his choice, being logical, being his composed, mature mentor -- and then at the crucial moment, she can't do it. She breaks down and tries to stop him because even for her, her heart is stronger than any number of logical arguments.

brOTP:

I've never really considered this. I've always assumed (and the game shows) that she's really close to Natalia and Anise, and I think she always would be. If asked who her best friend was, she'd probably say Natalia. They have a good, contrasting chemistry, Natalia wearing her heart on her sleeve, being very forceful and even naive at times, while Tear probably needs a more upbeat person to bring her out of her shell; despite that, they still have a lot in common, fighting alongside each other, both of them being motivated by a strong sense of service and altruism. But thinking outside the box, it's sad that we never really see her interact one on one with, say, Jade. What's their dynamic like, when none of the other party members are around? I also think it would be really fun if, after the game, she became close to Peony through their shared interest in rappigs. She would shake her head at his eccentricities and (unsuccessfully) try to reel him in from time to time. But I would guess that out of anyone in the game, Tear would be the most enthusiastic about his amazing pets. I'd love to see them going to a rappig show or something together, or maybe picking a new rappig for the imperial pigpen Peony's bedroom.

OTP:

I wouldn't say I have an OTP for her. I like LukeTear -- I know not every Abyss fan enjoys it, but I think it's a compelling, character-based slow burn. They seem drawn together because of each others' personalities, not just circumstances; they operate as friends as well as a romantic couple; they seem to bring out each others' good traits. And I've always liked how Abyss takes the idea of the stern, professional soldier protecting the softer, untested noble, but flips the typical genders. And of course Luke grows until he's strong enough to protect her in turn. But while I like it, LukeTear doesn't rise to the level of an OTP for me.

nOTP:

Nothing too fancy for this one, not her immediate family or anything. Thinking over the fandom, it's a bit surprising there isn't more variety when it comes to shipping her.

Random headcanon:

I don't have one. Though in turning the question over, I realized I'd love to know what was going through her head when she was standing with Luke in her garden and he asked for a knife. She's surprised by what he does, so what was she expecting? That could be an interesting character moment to explore.

Unpopular opinion:

As much as I like her costume, I think it looks kind of bad when animated. It's so stiff, all these weird flaps and angles sticking out. It looks great when she's standing still, awkward as all get out as soon as she goes faster than a walk.

Song I associate with her:

"Let Her Feel the Rain" by Tara MacLean. It's more about the mood than the lyrics. (Though some of them do feel Tear-ish -- they say when she cries her teardrops turn to ice; you will kneel before her at her altar imageries.) Ages ago, I did one of those memes where you had to randomly pick ten songs and draw a fan art during each song's duration. "Let Her Feel the Rain" made me think of Tear, and ever since then it always has.

Favorite picture of her:

Oh, there are so many good ones, her basic character portrait from the original booklet, art of her in new outfits from escort titles... How about this one from one of the light novels?

Thank you for the ask!

Meme taken from here.

#tear grants #tales #tales of the abyss #tales of the abyss spoilers #sistaofpeace1

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skelitinonmyback · 10 months

Text

strawberries cherries: i

pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader

synopsis: You take the chance to give a stranger your phone number but what happens when you go into work the next day to discover that he's your new boss?

chapter warnings: allusions to sex, mean! kylo

series masterlist

You always get stuck at this part when grocery shopping, which red fruit was going home with you today? Why can’t you just get both? You remind yourself how unlikely it would be for you to be able to finish both of them before the week is out and you hate making produce rot and go to waste. It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal but you balance them in your hands as if you're weighing the balance of the world with your hands. The glossy red of your ballet flats matched the hue of the cherries in your left hand. Wow, that’s really how your decisions get influenced, the color of your shoes. The more you think about it, the more you remember that cherries are a messy fruit. Was that the vibe for this week?

You were so engrossed in your mental debate you didn’t notice someone behind you trying to get to the strawberries you were hogging. The sound of a low voice clearing their throat made you jump, almost popping open the container of strawberries in your right hand. Hands came to your shoulders to steady you from your jump sending a tingle down your spine as you gauge how large the hands of this stranger were.

“I’m sorry, miss, I wasn’t trying to scare you,” a tumble of words came from above your head. “I’m just trying to get to these strawberries you find so hypnotizing.”

You turn around, met with the wide chest of a very well fit man. Tilting your head up you see just about the most handsome man you’ve seen that wasn’t a celebrity. He had long, wavy black hair and a cute set of moles that made you feel the urge to draw a line with your finger to connect even though you don’t know the guy. He had a long, strong nose that got wider towards the base that gave him a Greek God appearance balanced with soft brown eyes and a thich set of lashes. He looked smart, strong, and powerful. Like he spent every moment of his day advising hundreds of people on how to make millions.

Realizing that you were gawking at him, your face flushed and you adverting your eyes and stepped to the side to give him space. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to block them,” you whispered, losing any confidence you gained. But damn, you couldn’t let a man like this go to waste. Once in a lifetime opportunity, right?

Deciding to be a little braver, you straighten your shoulders and look him in the eye. “I’m sort of faced with the decision of a lifetime. Mind helping me out?” There’s no harm in flirting with a stranger, there’s a strong chance you’ll never see him again, if he wasn’t interested it wouldn’t harm you. These were the phrases running through your head as you started to instantly regret asking for this kind man's help.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, not expecting the person so enthralled by berries to be a flirt. Don’t get him wrong, he was very attracted to you and the only thing behind his eyes was the play by play of everything he wanted to do. He was avoiding connections like that recently though, focused on taking over the company his mentor just stepped down from. However, there’s no harm in humoring a stranger, right? He’s been craving some spice in his life too. With a glint of mischief in his eye, he sighed a faux, heavy sigh. “The life changing decisions always happen at the grocery store, don’t they?” Then with a smirk, he continues, “How can I help you?”

“I can’t seem to decide if I want the strawberries or the cherries more,” you huff with a pout. What he would do to run his tongue along your pouty lips. “I do really like strawberries but the cherries match my shoes.”

He brought his hand to his chin and furrowed his brows, determined to help you with this decision and you swore it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “Well, personally I’m getting some strawberries. However, the fact that your shoes match the cherries does make me want to get some too,” the humorous tone in his voice made you smile brightly, glad that admitting such a stupid thing to him improved the interaction. “So this depends, do you like to get messy?” The question seemed innocent enough but the way he leaned down towards you made you flush and your confident exterior began to crumble.

“Cherries it is, then,” you practically whispered with a tremor in your voice and handed the strawberries you were holding onto to him. The plastic of the box was shaking with your hands and you were so embarrassed he could see just how nervous he made you. He even brought his other hand to catch your trembling one as he took the fruit from you with a curt thank you. The feeling of his hand against yours set fire throughout your entire body and you frown settled on your face as he pulled away.

You cough a little, trying to calm yourself down, and reach for the pen and sticky notes you keep in your bag for shopping trips and copy down your phone number. “Here, take this. Just in case you need help finishing off those strawberries.”

He grabbed your wrist with one hand and used the other to take the sticky note from you slowly. With his hand still holding onto you he said, “Or maybe I’ll need a little mess.” The way your eyes widened, lips parted, and cheeks darkened made him silently curse himself. Now he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about the vulgar things he wanted to do to you. His grip tightened before he let go, swiftly turning around and walking away with your number and strawberries.

Oh my God.

Did that really happen to you? Since when do you hand your number out to strangers? You never even flirt with anyone. That’s why you’ve never had a genuine relationship, besides that two month situationship senior year of college. He wasn’t just the only relationship, but the only ANYTHING. God, you’re so embarrassed how easily that five minute interaction made you so weak.

Shaking off your nerves you continue your shopping with a grin on your face. Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but be proud of yourself, finally stepping out of your comfort zone. As you repeated the scene in your head, you realized you forgot to ask for his name in all of your nervousness.

—

You wince at the high pitched ringing coming from your phone. It’s the next morning, after a long night of restless sleepand consistent checks to your messages, hoping to hear from the tall brunette you mentally dubbed “Cherry Guy.” You rush to your phone as you remember you’re waiting to hear from the certain boy from the day before. Much to your disappointment, you didn’t see anything new in your messages except from your coworker and only friend. God it’s too early to be thinking about work.

Poe: are you so excited to meet the new boss?!?!?

As much as you’ve convinced yourself you were alone in this life, Poe weasled his way into your life after you first arrived to the city after attending college in Boston. You guys work together as programmers in an up and coming tech company, First Order. You guys bonded over thinking the company's name was strangely unappealing and your love (slash addiction) for film, always seeing new releases together. As much as you wish you could disappear sometimes, it was a comfort to know someone out there would worry for you. With no siblings and a few aunts and uncles that had no clue you even existed until after your parents died in that fire your sophomore year of high school, it was nice that you had someone to fall back on.

You: i just hope he doesn’t try to put trackers in our bags like snoke did…

Poe: lmao i dont knooow i’ve heard he’s pretty hot. you might change your mind

A hot boss is the last thing you need right now. This drought you’ve been in has left you absolutely feral, ready to jump the bones of anyone that gives you the slightest bit of attention. Explaining why you so desperately gave your number to some rando who obviously wasn’t going to text you. Gahhh. Why do you even try? It’s not like people have ever really liked you. Besides that blip in college, no one has really shown interest in you. In their defense, you never really tried or put yourself out there but still. The toll of not dating, ladies and gentlemen.

Whatever, you need to rid your mind of him. There were plenty of 6’3, handsome, brunette, brown eyes, broad, strong legged-

Ok, you’re getting carried away and there’s someone who didn’t want to eat cherries with you wanting a text back.

You: lmao i’ll believe it when i see it

wtvr see u in a few

You locked your phone and threw it on your bed, stood yourself up, and mentally prepared yourself for the draining day ahead, guaranteed by the notion of getting a new boss.

You started with your regular skincare routine, but after looking at yourself in the mirror for longer than a minute you decided to do a face mask. Just to add some extra glow, not because of the possibility of meeting a hot new person. As you continued onto your makeup routine you suddenly decided that the skin tint wouldn’t cut it for you and instead you needed extra concealer, and darker lipstick, and maybe just a little longer wing on your eyeliner. You had to hold yourself back before you got too out of hand and your everyday look became a drag look.

You look at the time and curse yourself for taking so damn long focusing on your physical appearance over a man you’ve never even met and wouldn’t have a chance with anyway because he was your boss.

The thought of it however made you blush and your stomach twirl. The idea of forbidden romance has always been so sexy to you. Like even though you deny it, you 100% watch 50 Shades of Gray like the rest of America. And my god, you thought that it was the hottest thing ever. Toxic, sure but the TENSION.

Pulling yourself together with only 10 minutes to get dressed and get to the train, you rushed together the most basic office attire without really looking at it. Just a matching grey skirt and blazer combo with a white dress shirt underneath, not noticing the rip up the side. You hurriedly grab your phone and purse before skating out of the apartment and running doen the 10 flights of stairs in your walk up, laundry in unit. After a brisk two minute jog in heels you see your savior, the green subway stair sign. You made it with 30 seconds to spare. Definitely an adjustment, but still you finally feel a part of New York, these 7 years later. You even memorized how much time your usual subway trip was so you could take a quick power nap and get up right in time to get to your stop.

Speaking of, those 8 minutes have passed and it’s time to rush in. You weren’t late by the standards of the general population, but you’ve ingrained in your brain that being early was on time, on time was late, and late made you useless. Therefore, you always arrive at every schedule in your life at least 10 minutes early. Right now you were pushing 5 minutes and that was enough to make you spiral.

You forced your way against the flow of foot traffic to reach the revolving doors of the First Order building. You run to the elevator and press the close door button probably about 50 thousand times before it finally closed. That was the most nerve wracking elevator ride of your life. You don’t remember elevators taking that long. Alas, eventually the ride did end and you made your way to your computer among the rows and rows of them. Right in his place, Poe was sat at the computer next to yours with a coffee in hand just for you.

“You almost had me worried there, you weren’t here an hour early I thought something happened,” he teased you with a little smirk and handed you your coffee.

“Oh shut up, I’m never that early,” you rolled your eyes. You take the coffee into your hands and your eyes started to dart around. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Oh no I don’t think so. I still don’t know what he looks like, all I know is that his name is Kylo Ren. Why, is that what all that makeup is for? And here I was thinking it was for me.” Oh Poe, always the teaser. It was fucking obnoxious.

As if on queue the elevator doors started to open up behind you before you could respond.

In fade, Poe’s voice continues into your ear, “Oh that’s so funny that must be him, and they were not wrong in saying he’s eye candy. If he invited me into his office…”

You toned Poe out when you turned towards the elevator to make eye contact with the last man you thought you would ever see again.

Fucking Cherry guy.

There was absolutely no way that the drop dead gorgeous man you offhandedly flirted with (something you NEVER do) that never texted or called was your new boss. Absolutely not. You refuse to accept this progression in the storyline of the ironic comedy of your life.

You realized that what you were doing was becoming a lot less like looking and more like oggling. Widening your eyes a little, you try to shake yourself from the trance you were stuck in and look back at Poe like you had just seen a ghost. With a shaky breath, you sat down in your chair and stared at your keyboard as you began to contemplate all that has happened to you in the span of one minute. God fucking damn it. Everything was going to be fine. You just need to remain professional, calm. You were here to do a job and by golly you would be good at it and try not to think about how bad you wanted to mount one your new boss’ thighs and just-

NO! This was not work thinking, this was midnight in your bed with your hand between your thighs thinking.

Your name being repeated to your left became more apparent the second someone’s hand touched your shoulder, causing you to practically jump out of your skin. “Woah, hey are you alright? You look a little pale,” Poe had his lips pursed with concern as he looked at you.

You blinked for a few beats before shaking your head slowly, then nodding, not really sure what the correct response was. “Yeah, no. Well, I mean, yeah. Yes. Yes, I am alright, a-okay. Yeah,” cringing inwardly with every yeah and yes that came from your lips.

Unconvinced, Poe opened his mouth to try and get the truth out of you but before you could, the low bass of Kylo Ren’s voice at the end of your row cut him off. From the looks of it, he was going down each row, personally introducing himself to everyone, which shocked you to your core. Not that you worked for a big company, there were probably only about 20 of you in the entire office, including the front receptionist and the VP, Artimage Hux.

Lost in your confusion, you realized just how much larger his frame became in your vision as he had jumped from all the way down the row to two people to your right. Then suddenly he was at Poe, and you had to start preparing yourself. You wiped your hands on your skirt, not wanting to touch this very handsome man with clammy hands. Before you know it he was wrapping up his conversation with Poe and you were already moving, slowly standing up and drawing your dominant hand away from your skirt, ready for the best hand shake of your life. Ren started to move away from Poe, towards you and-

…past you. Mother Fucker just walked past you, not even sparring you a glance. Instead he made his way to the front of the room, where the doors to his office, conference room, and copier room were.

Clasping his hands together, he projected to the back of the room, “Hi again, everyone. It has been the utmost pleasure to be able to meet all of you. In, let’s say, 5 minutes, meet me in the conference room for a development meeting. Think of some things you think can be improved from when… Snoke was in charge.” He hesitated before saying Snoke’s name. Weird. Without anything else, he turned into the conference room while everyone else got ready.

“Hey,” Poe grabbed at you. “Do you know what that was all about?”

You pouted and just shook your head. You truly didn’t understand why he would just gloss over you like that. Was your interaction in the grocery store really that bad? There wasn’t time for thinking about that right now. You collected your phone and laptop and you followed the last couple of stragglers into the conference room. When you walked in, the only chair open was in the very front row, right infront of where Kylo was standing. Trying to keep a calm exterior, you took that seat with your head down, hoping he couldn’t see you.

He was saying something about wanting this to be an open forum, but also wanting to make sure everyone who wanted their voice heard so to please raise your hand. The more people who went the more you thought about what you wanted to improve. Snoke would do this incredibly annoying thing where he would call people in during non working hours to get a start and some random project he just thought of. If you said you couldn’t or if you were busy, he would threaten to fire you or dock your pay. Since no one else was bringing it up, it fell on you to talk about it so you slowly slid your hand up into the air.

After a few minutes of having it up, Kylo never acknowledged you. Another two people were called on before you were the only person with your hand up left. But instead of calling on you, Ren just sighed. “Alright last call for anyone to suggest anything.”

Losing hope, you started to lower your hand. Whatever, you thought, it wasn’t that important anyway.

But, behind you, the sound of your lovely friend piqued. “Um she’s had her hand up for the past 10 minutes.”

With the heaviest of sighs, as if he just found his car robbed, Kylo grumbled, “Yes, fine. Miss…?”

You muttered your name with a small ‘sir’ attached to the end of it. Giving a pause for him to maybe correct himself by confirming your name, but alas you were met with silence. With a shaky breath, you continued, “Well, um Snoke would call us into work during off times, and uh that gave us a poor work life balance…”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking of me, miss,” he responded condicendingly. Before you could explain yourself further he continued to humiliate you, “I can’t promise you that I won’t need more assistance when you're off the clock. Frankly, if you’re trying to make it known that you refuse to put in extra work, go the extra mile, then maybe we should renegotiate your business with the company, Miss.” This time he hissed out your first name with the miss attached. “Was that all?”

Too scared to say anything, you just nodded, more focused on the way your shoes matched the carpet as you swallowed the tears that climbed up your throat.

“Everyone’s dismissed.”

—

You delved yourself into the work on your computer to distract yourself from the ordeal that happened earlier in the conference room. You have never been so utterly humiliated in your entire life infront of all of your coworkers. As angry as you were, because best believe you were angry, part of you couldn’t help but feel it was somewhat erotic.

You hadn’t realized it was quitting time until Poe shook you away from your computer, letting you know it was ten after. You shook your head and reassured him that he was fine to leave, that you just wanted to finish up what the development you were working on. In reality you wanted to make sure you left after Ren did, to guarantee you wouldn’t have to see him again. You would probably cry real tears if he decided to make another comment infront of your coworkers.

Apparently, he had the same plan, because as you stood waiting for the elevator, Kylo came walking up behind you, distracted by something on his phone. So there goes you, master genius, palms sweaty at the notion of having to speak to him.

He felt another presence at the elevator, which surely couldn’t be possible since it was 5:25. When he looked up, confused as to who else could possibly still be here, he saw you. And he walked away. He genuinely just pivoted and made a beeline for the stairs. It was almost comical.

Too offended to think about self preservation, you ran after him. He was more willing to walk down the fifteen flights of stairs then stand with you for two minutes in an elevator. It was getting to be too much.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ren? Excuse me!” you called after him, slamming the door behind you. Your knees felt like they could give out at any moment when you jogged doen the flight of stairs to get to the landing he was on.

His shoulders sagged as he cursed at himself for waiting, not knowing you had the same plan. “What?” venom laced in his voice as he whipped around towards you.

“Is this really how you’re going to treat me for the rest of my employment here?” you sighed, sounding more defeated then you intended to. “I understand I came on too strong when we met the other day and that you don’t have any interest in me. However, ignoring me and humiliating me infront of my peers is uncalled for.” Your face burned with embarrassment when you had to bring up your previous encounter that seemed to make him hate you.

He didn’t find you unattractive. On the contrary actually. He was completely enamoured by you. He didn’t text or call because he had to commit himself to this job to be the best version of himself he could be. The only reason he was ignoring you was because he was convinced if he looked at you for too long he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Even now, being so close to you, he was forcing himself to look away from you. “Fine, I’ll stop. Is that all?” His voice was tense, not trusting himself to describe just how much you plagued his thoughts.

“Um, yes,” suddenly feeling meek again. He didn’t deny how disgusting he thought you were. Hmm. “Actually, I’m sorry, sir. Please take the elevator. I can’t in good conscience let you walk all these stairs to get away from you.”

So, with hesitation and zero words, he stalked behind you into the elevator that suddenly felt like it shrunk two sizes. It was the most awkward elevator ride of your life. No one said a sound, both of you hardly breathed. The only thing the two of you were thinking about was how good the other one smelled.

masterlist

#kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo x y/n #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfic

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 8 hours

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hey! saw that your requests for an outsiders ship was open, and wanted to try my hand. as a fellow outsiders writer, i really admire your work, and think it's accurate and concise to the point where i can immerse myself and laugh with your writing at the same time

appearance: i'm a 5'9 trans (ftm) teenager with the messiness brown hair possible, brown eyes, and skin tags around/on my neck. i don't care much for labels on my sexuality, but i guess the closest i could get would be pansexual. i simply like who i like, although most of the time that turns out to be guys

personality: i enjoy both educated and stupid humor, and find myself dipping into both as a way to make those around me laugh. i live life for the bit, but also can get serious. the kind of person who says they hate their friends, but the moment they genuinely need something, i won't hesitate to offer a hand. i've got autism, with a habit by proxy to lose concentration a lot and get into my head beyond belief; often leading to me thinking about scenarios revolving media i'm obsessed with at the time, but thats more of a personal thing. i have a bond with music like no other, and a strong love for baggy clothes that you could find on a thrift store rack for dirt cheap. i don't like physical touch at all, to the point where it's physically uncomfortable for me, and my love language is gift giving

thanks for reading my long ask submission, and have a great day (genuine)

Your Outsiders Ship: Johnny Cade

Because we are mutuals, you get to have an analysis

Explanation: starting off with looks, I think that he would like your height because I feel like he’s the type of guy who would like the fact that you’re taller than him, but not by too much and it just makes him more comfortable in general to be around you. He also loves your skin tags and thinks that they’re adorable and lives for your constantly messy hair because he just thinks it’s the cutest thing ever he would love it and honestly, I think that if you like styled it one day or did anything with it, he would instantly notice. Also about your skin tag he thinks they’re adorable, but he would never touch them because he’s the type of guy that knows about your sensitivity thing and I don’t think he would ever be a person that would kind of try to enact touching in the first place, so I feel like he would catch on the fact that you don’t want to be touched very quickly because he, wouldn’t really go for it anyway, so neither of you guys would touch each other but if you ever did get into a relationship where you were comfortable with him touching you it would be so stupid for him because he would literally just be like you guys would already be holding hands and he would keep asking about it like are you sure this is OK and you’re like Johnny we’ve been holding hands for 10 minutes straight. I’m OK with it anyway I just think that he would be super careful about that boundary and just so sensitive as to not offend you or anything like that or violate. He loves both of your humor styles and whenever you get to your more academic humor I feel like he’d be a little bit slow to get it so you might need to explain some things to him, but as soon as he does, get the joke. He’s laughing his ass off, but he does always get stupid humor and I feel like you guys could definitely just, don’t relate to certain things like that and being your own little world and the gang is pretty happy that he found someone like you can just relate and connect so well to him. I think you guys would mutually tease each other and are super good at not overstepping any boundaries. I think you guys have various established good even subconscious boundaries that you both very much respect so joking around would never be a problem if you were worried about him accidentally making a joke that goes too deep or vice versa. He really appreciates that you’re someone that he can always rely on and he can be the exact same for you because he’s you know the gang’s pet and he’s used to being perceived as such but he really likes the fact that your relationship is more mutual than anything and it’s not one of you heavily relying on the other one you guys rely on each other and that that’s what makes you a good solid strong couple. as for your autism, I think he would be pretty good at handling it and always make sure to try and do some concentrating exercises with you if you ever lost ground of focus or things like that and you needed to focus. And he would very quickly learn about a lot of your habits and how to cope with them. He loves your music taste, and I think if you ever listened to any of it with him, it would just like make his day and then he would listen to it nonstop and you guys listen to each other. It’s so much that the gang will not let either of you take control of the radio or cassette. I think he really likes your baggy clothes that are just thrown off the thrift store and would buy matching things with you too if you were into that like if you got a pair of baggy jeans, I feel like he’d ask you where you got them and then try to get the same pair. I don’t know I could see you guys matching and being really cute. I ship it!!

#the outsiders #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #johnny cade

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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 months

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If you don't mind, could I please get a Lotr matchup 🥺 I saw that your requests are open and got really excited. I'd like a male ship please! I'm a 21 year old autistic girl who uses a lot of names and aliases. I also have ADHD and am chronically ill with things like asthma, joint pain and both (mild) kyphosis and scoliosis, but I still keep surprisingly active despite it. I'm known for having pretty legendary pain tolerance too, haha. Though because I'm still disabled, I tend to be a bit of a homebody and am very attached to my home.

Personality-wise, I'm simultaneously extremely level-headed and stubborn as a bull; I make my choices wisely, but I'm also quite fierce when I feel the need to be, and I don't give up easily. I've been called wise before and I tend to give good advice, though I can also be a bit of a hermit sometimes when I don't feel like talking. I'm a weird mix between very scholarly and very active, I love working out and getting strong but I'm also addicted to learning new things and reading. I tend to collect books on witchcraft, herbalism (both for healing and poisons) and cooking. Speaking of which, I love cooking, baking, sewing, gardening, caring for horses and I work as a librarian at the moment.

My personality tends to throw people off a little, mainly because I'm very sweet and friendly but also a little off-putting. Both because I come from a family with a morbid sense of humor, and because I do genuinely enjoy messing with people a little. I'm a solid true to chaotic neutral. The kind of person who would joke about poisoning people but given that I know so much about plants you might actually get worried that I would, despite me being very friendly to you just five minutes ago. I'm just that kind of person, I guess, I like to keep people on their toes. That being said, my friendly side is no facade, and there's little I love more than helping people, I actively go out of my way to do it. I especially like feeding people and making new recipes for others to try. I'd say my major flaws are that I'm stubborn, I don't forgive easily, and I can be a little sassy and passive aggressive when I get tired or upset.

As for my appearance, I am very very short and very skinny, though I'm moreso lean since I enjoy working out. I actually have decently large biceps but it's contrasted with a Disney princess-esque waist which I find kinda funny. I have very long wavy reddish-brown hair (I describe it as “strawberry brunette”), and I wear glasses. I like to take relationships very very slowly and develop a solid friendship before considering dating someone, so I really don't want someone who takes things too fast. I'm also not a fan of overly flirty people, even if they're completely loyal to me I just get turned off by over the top displays of affection.

Alright I think that's about it! Sorry if this is too long! (Btw I think I might have requested a matchup from you before but I love your writing so much that I want to get one again, I really hope that's okay ;-;) Have a good day!

Hello! Welcome back! No worries, you can request as many matchups as you want! <333 I hope you like the matchup this time too :)

---

(Romantic);

---

Lord Of The Rings;

Faramir:

✨ You met Faramir with Gandalf and Pippin, unfortunately, Denethor doesn't really like the three of you, that's Denethor for you; but it wasn't long until you got to meet Faramir - the younger brother of Boromir, and for some reason, you both felt a connection between the two of you

✨ During your stay, you and Faramir got to know each other more, taking walks when possible and talking about your interests and even bonding over shared interests - when you told him about your collection of books on witchcraft and herbalism at home, he was impressed; you told him that one of the reasons you joined the Fellowship was because you were a good healer (other than that, you loved adventure, and could do and few spells here and there)

✨ After Faramir got shot by that arrow though, you stayed by his side the entire time, and only then - realizing how close you were to losing him - did you come to realize that you had grown incredibly fond of the young man of great quality; whilst he was in his little healing coma though, you would sit and read to him

✨ Once he had finally awakened, he was surprised to have found you by his bedside - his heart went (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ - and soon, you both found yourself courting; you would often bring him little baked goods, and Faramir would sometimes gift you books on new, interesting topics when he finds them

✨ You and Faramir are very similar to each other - being passionate, caring, and intelligent - you both are very much never gonna give each other up, or let each other down, or run around, or desert each other

#cute #fluff #x reader #request #requested #matchups #matchup #lotr #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #faramir #faramir of gondor #faramir x reader #faramir son of denethor

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goldtowhite · 2 months

Text

nathan hong // character study

PART ONE: STATISTICS.

basic information:

FULL NAME: nathan hong

NICKNAME(S): nate

AGE: 26

DATE OF BIRTH: october 2nd, 1997

PLACE OF BIRTH: los angeles, ca

GENDER: cismale

PRONOUNS: he/him

ORIENTATION: bisexual

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, korean

NEIGHBOURHOOD: downtown los angeles

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: downtown lofts, he lives alone

family ties:

MOTHER: hong jiyoo

FATHER: hong seungmin

SIBLINGS: none

SPOUSE / PARTNER: none

CHILDREN: none

PETS: a cat named mandu

occupational information:

OCCUPATION: social media manager at sonic magazine

physical appearance:

FACE CLAIM: kim mingyu

HAIR COLOR: black

EYE COLOR: brown

HEIGHT: 6'2"

BUILD: very athletic, very muscular

TATTOOS: none

PIERCINGS: ears

CLOTHING STYLE: streetwear when casual, nice business attire when working

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: his teeth have a sort of fangs vibe to them that make his smile really endearing

personality:

MBTI: ENFJ

ELEMENT: air

WESTERN ZODIAC: libra

CHINESE ZODIAC: ox

POSITIVE TRAITS: adaptable, amiable, courteous

NEGATIVE TRAITS: airy, enigmatic, indulgent

HOBBIES: going to the gym, running, bike riding, surfing, cooking, sketching

wanted connections:

CONNECTION TYPE: an ex: one where nate was definitely in the wrong. he's not very communicative with feelings, not in a malicious way, just in a clueless way. nate definitely like... assumed things were casual and it was not for the other muse and he just kind of kept doing his own thing and they broke up with some pretty bad blood.

CONNECTION TYPE: pleaseeeeeeee gimme a partner in crime and i need it to be like... they are yes men to each other. like they lowkey kind of enable each other for the worse sometimes.

PART TWO: QUESTIONNAIRE.

this part of the questionnaire is intended to be filled out in character just like your muse is being interviewed by someone at sonic magazine for example. feel free to add as much or as little detail as you like. if you find there is a question that doesn’t apply to your muse for whatever reason within your category feel free to omit the question or come up with your own that you think is relevant. this section is designed to replace a character bio, but you can still add extra information to your intro as you wish.

IF YOUR MUSE IS IN THE MUSIC INDUSTRY (NON MUSICIAN):

why don’t you start at the beginning and tell us who you are? nathan hong, first generation korean american. my parents moved here from korea about a decade before i was born to open a restaurant and start a new life. i worked there as soon as i legally could officially, unofficially i always helped. it's how i learned how to cook and all that, and i grew up speaking both korean and english, so i feel a pretty strong connection to both parts of me. the restaurant isn't something i plan to inherit in a meaningful way but i'll always keep it in the family.

what is your place in this massive industry? i went into being a social media manager simply because i feel really comfortable with social media. i've always run the socials for the family business and i found it pretty easy to get into doing that for other fields.

life in los angeles can be pretty intense, do you love it or hate it? i love it, but it's all i've ever known. when we visit seoul, i feel just as at home there. i'm not sure i'm the type who could ever give up city life, i think i'd get too bored. i'm not much of a homebody really.

what inspires you to show up for the musicians you work for or collaborate with? i just like knowing i can contribute to the industry in any way, and being bilingual i can also help out when we have artists who might not be fluent in english coming from korea to work with us. i guess i'm a bit of an unofficial translator as well, i wouldn't say my job keeps me so busy that i can't help elsewhere.

what are some of your favourite genres of music? i'm a hoe for top 40 pop forever, i also love a lot of korean music. i like pop punk, rock, really anything. country's never really done it for me but there are some exceptions.

what is the first record you ever bought? for myself? seo taji and boys self titled debut. it came out a few years before i was born but the first trip to korea i can remember, i found it in a thrift store and spent my pocket money on it.

what’s next for you? i feel pretty good about where i'm at right now, but i've been thinking about expanding my comfort in running social media accounts, like maybe taking on individual clients, or reaching out to gyms or other restaurants. my parents say i'm not ambitious enough but i think i'm chilling.

#nathan: about #intro.

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