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lasirenatarot · 6 months

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“ LOOKS-MAXXING ” pick-a-card reading.💝

Your next glow up.

What can you do in order to have a big glow up?

Pick a pink 90s magazine cover:

—>Pile 1

Your next glow up will most likely be related to getting « in peace » with your s€xuality prior to glowing up both physically and mentally. What I mean by this is you will probably need to get rid of any self doubts about your looks, any shame around your $£xual side due to past traumas or for some the way you were raised, some may have been raised in a controlling or conservative family.

One of the ways you can make this glow up happen is if you really enjoy your life and what you do. Try to practice your hobbies more and work on bettering your natural talents, by doing that you may find your purpose in this world and this will lead to the biggest glow up ever.. for some it may lead them to their dream career.

Something which appears in the cards is that you may need to forgive your parents or parental figures for the way they treated you in order to reach peace within yourself and your physical body. Forgive yourself as well for not acting in the « right way » or not looking a certain way, this is the best you could do at that point of your life . It is all in the past.

As for a physical glow up: judging by the pictures shown on the cards that fell, maybe start focusing on a regular work out routine, focusing on legs, butt or whatever you feel like you need to improve. Updating your clothing style may benefit you a lot. Stop caring about what others would say and pick clothes which give you freedom of expression, be yourself shamelessly. Some of you who chose this pile may have some creative vision which they may have been scared to express - do it. Meditation may help with your « glow up » in some form as well. Try bolder makeup looks and outfit choices.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 1:

The vibes I get from this pile is totally Julia Fox as a persona,not only style wise. She’s unapologetically herself, maybe for some she’s a bit weird. But the main point is, despite people’s opinions and perceptions of her, she has always followed her own rules and expressed herself. Before she got famous she was a dominatrix, did a photobook, an art exhibition aand starred in a famous movie in which her character was inspired by her real life . All this happened because she was authentic,lived her life the way she wanted and followed her heart, exactly what u should do as well,pile 1.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 2

Pile 2, you’re going through or will go through a huge transformation.. luck will definitely be on your side and you may find out answers for things which you’ve always wanted to know about. ( it can be pretty much about anything. If we are talkibg about a physical glow up exclusively, you may learn some very good beauty hacks soon. It can be about makeup, diet, exercise, skin care, personal development etc.. this is a general reading so I cannot be exact but whatever your case is it will lead to a HUGE glow up. Two of the cards are talking about some « secret knowledge » so whatever it is it will be significant for you.

This pile is very different from the first one as the glow up that appears here is not just about one or two things in your life or looks, it’s about everything. The things you can do in order to glow up faster, pile2, is maybe start watching makeup tutorials and pay attention to new techniques or products you haven’t heared before, ask people for where they shop they may tell you some secret thrift store with really cool clothes which can uplift your style.. anything which can help you get this « secret knowledge » which appeared in the cards. Another thing I can say for this pile is: focus on manifestation, envision the changes in your looks or life as a whole you would like to have and act accordingly in your 3D universe in order to get to where you want to be. Positive affirmations and subliminals (as in subliminals I mean not the crazy unrealistic ones, but those about self concept, confidence and beauty in general) may also be helpful in your case.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 2:

The vibes I get here are Fran from “The Nanny” and Maddy from “Euphoria”. Fashionable, bold, colourful. Radiating confidence. Crystals, glitter, sparkle, feathers, bold and colourful makeup, everything of that sort. Do not dim your own light to make someone else feel better about themselves if they are insecure.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 3

Pile 3: I think you would definitely be bettering your financial situation sooner than you may have even expected, this may help you get a glow up. You would be able to afford nicer things, skincare, clothes, procedures etc.. If you’re not already on a path to improve your finances, then you would definitely be motivated to start working on this problem soon and be very committed on your mission of « glowing up » in every way possible. Physically, mentally, spiritually even. You will be finding yourself after a long period of feeling lost and unlike your true self.

You would become much more intuitive, confident and cut throat even, you won’t let energy vampires use you as they may have done in the past and this would lead to a more beautiful and healthy version of you, because you would not have to deal with others’ negativity anymore. When it comes to relationships you would not be satisfied with with mediocrity, you will be finally standing your ground and being true to your standards and what you deserve. You will be getting your justice if you’ve been mistreated in the past.

This pile has huuuge « femme fatale » « dark feminine » vibe. This may be the energy you will be channeling after you have your glow up. Doing classic makeup like red lipstick+ black eyeliner, black smokey eyes and nude lips combo might help you channel this energy that i am seeing here better. Wearing colours like: red, black, gold and nude might help you elevate your look. Also wearing jewelry, lace and high heels. Don’t be scared to embrace your « dark side » which you may have ignored in the past in order to fit in with the crowd.

May sound trivial, but follow your intuition and do what makes you happy, it will make you glow in ways which you have not expected..

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 3:

The vibes I’m getting here are as I said in previous paragraphes: femme fatale, dark feminine energy,monica bellucci core type of look/aesthetics..

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

That was all from today’s PAC. It was a bit different from previous ones and I myself did not expect it to turn out the way it did, but sometimes completely different information pops up in readings because someone needs to hear a certain thing.. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

Thank you for reading!

- La Sirena💋

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

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imaginesmai · 8 months

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Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y

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selyeji · 14 days

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so american

jude bellingham x reader

summary : a date around the streets of madrid with jude (based on “so american” by olivia rodrigo)

warnings : none

the wind brushes your face as you rolled down the car window. jude drives the car around the streets of madrid, the sunset radiates throughout the entire city glowing your face while your hair plays with the wind.

the sky slowly transforming from a orange pink shade to purple, inviting the night to take over. “hey wait… stop this damn car, there’s a new ice cream shop open!” you yelled through the music blasted in the vehicle. jude laughs as he slows down, parking right by the sidewalk. before you could open the door he interrupts you, grabbing your hand before touching the handle. “nuh uh, wait there.” he said, quickly getting out of his seat. running to the other side of the car to open your door.

“what was that for?” you smile at his antics. “i can’t tire out my beautiful partner.” he said proudly. “well thank you my knight in shining armor.” you chuckle at him, booping his nose. “anytime my darling.” jude said, kissing your cheek as you two walk into the store.

you look down to the available flavors as you hug onto judes arm. “i’ll have a vanilla in a cone please.” you said to the cashier. “make that two.” jude said right after. “since when did you like vanilla?” you asked, raising a brow. “ever since you came into my life. ” he said, smirking. “you’re so corny.” a faint blush spread to your cheeks.

you two walk down the streets, licking your ice cream. until you spotted a open bookstore, displaying books outside. although most were second hand, it was still in good condition. you started looking through the books, finding certain authors until jude disturbed you. you looked up, seeing him have a book open.

“and if the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent.” he read out loud, looking up to meet your eyes. “what?” “the poem reminded me of you, your beauty.” jude said smiling. you blush heavily, covering your face with the book on your hands as jude chuckles. he softly moves your hand to the side, sliding the book away as he peppers your face with kisses.

“heyy you messed up my shirt..” you whined, a vanilla ice cream drop stained your shirt. jude laughs at your pouting face as you walk out the bookstore, finishing your icecream. the night already has taken over the sky, the moon inviting itself.

streetlights start to turn on, continuing your walk around. enjoying your time as the night life starts, tipping some street musicians, admiring flowers and street art on the way to the car. still holding on to judes forearm. the drive to his house was quiet, resting from the tiring hours before.

once you arrived, you open the door, jude throwing the car keys to a nearby table. “take your dirty shoes off… american behavior..” jude side eyed you before you rolled your eyes. taking it off and placing it onto a rack. opening the door to his bedroom, jude grabbed his spared clothes handing it over to you as you quietly said thanks. you went into the bathroom, changing into his shirt and shorts before doing your skincare routine. you finish up, getting out to see jude waiting for you on the bed.

“hurry upp..” he kept complaining, his voice muffled by the pillow. you giggled, crashing yourself onto the bed. judes arm immediately wrap around your waist, nuzzling his head on your neck. “you look so good in my clothes…” he said softly. “thank you baby.” you quietly respond, you couldn’t sleep when your mind was filled with jude. he notices right away, asking whats in your mind.

“you think we’ll share our future together, married?” you ask blushing, embarrassed with the your question. “i don’t ‘think’ babe, im so sure of it. one day, once the universe fits the right time, i’ll go down on one knee and ask for you.” he mumbled. his eyes meet yours through the darkness.

“i would say yes any day.” you say, smiling. before his lips meet yours once again. resting your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat to sync with yours. slowly drifting off to sleep.

daily click to help palestine

a/n : the poem part was quoted from farouq jwaydeh🫡🫡,, this was a bit short my bad…

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagine #football x reader #footballer x reader #football imagine

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mammomlette · 1 month

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OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3(WIP rn)]

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

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lecsainz · 10 months

Text

TATTOOED

request: could you write something with lewis or daniel where there reader is a tattoo artist and she gives him a tattoo and he starts flirting and asks her out? if not its totally okay! sending all my love

pairings: daniel ricciardo x tattoo artist!reader

authors note: I can't even, but like carolina by harry styles was totally stuck in my head while I was writing! it's like, seriously playing on loop in my brain and I can't even deal with it

✩. . . masterlist !

Daniel Ricciardo had always been a fan of tattoos, and it wasn't just for show – he had thousands of inked stories etched across his body. He had a genuine appreciation for art, relishing the meanings they held for him.

He hadn't really planned on getting another tattoo during his off-time from Formula 1 while in Miami. But there he was, stepping into a small, incredibly cool studio – at least in his perspective – though who was he to judge what was cool.

"Hey?" he leaned casually against the wooden counter. "Anyone here?"

"Hey! How can I help you?" A petite girl with a few doodles on her arms seemed to appear out of nowhere.

His lips curl into a charismatic smile, "I'm thinking about adding some more art to this masterpiece," he gestures to his arm covered in ink. "What do you think?"

She chuckles softly, "Well, I think you've got a pretty good canvas already."

He laughs, her quick wit catching him off-guard. "True that. But I've got a spot that's feeling a little empty."

"And what kind of art are you thinking?" she raises an eyebrow, her eyes curiously tracing over his existing tattoos.

He taps his chin playfully, "You know, something meaningful. Something that'll give my other tattoos a run for their money."

She nods in understanding, "Got any specific design in mind?"

Daniel leans in a little, his playful grin not wavering, "How about a cheeky smiley face? Right here," he points to an empty space on his arm.

She lets out a laugh, clearly not expecting that. "I can definitely do that," she says, amusement dancing in her eyes.

As she sets up her equipment, they fall into easy conversation. He learns that she's not just a tattoo artist; she's a storyteller who helps people etch their tales into their skin.

Throughout the tattoo process, their conversation flows effortlessly. She shares stories about the tattoos she's done and the emotions behind them, while he tells tales from his racing experiences. He realizes that she's genuinely interested in people's stories, and it's something he finds refreshing.

As she works on his arm, he finds himself studying her, noticing the way her brows furrow in concentration and the occasional smile that tugs at her lips. He's captivated by her passion for her craft.

"So, what's the story behind this one?" she asks, her fingers gently tracing a scar on his forearm.

He hesitates for a moment, then decides to share. "That's from a crash a while back. Nothing serious, but it reminds me of how far I've come."

Her eyes meet his, and he can see a mixture of understanding and admiration. "It's amazing how life's twists and turns can leave marks that become part of who we are."

He nods, his gaze lingering on hers. "You get it."

As she finishes up, he examines the smiley face tattoo with a grin. "It's perfect. Might just be my new lucky charm."

She smirks, "I'll take credit for your future wins then."

He chuckles, "Deal. But I'll need a lucky charm in return – your name."

She blinks, her eyes widening a bit. "You want my name as a tattoo?"

He laughs, realizing he might have caught her off-guard. "No, just your name. I'm Daniel."

She smiles, extending her hand, "Nice to officially meet you, Daniel. I'm Y/N."

He takes her hand, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. "The pleasure's all mine, Y/N."

He leaves the studio that day with a new tattoo and something more – a sense of connection and curiosity about Y/N. As he walks out into the Miami sunlight, he finds himself debating what to do next. But, as always, he doesn't back down from a challenge.

Y/N looks up from her work as the bell above the door chimes. Her eyes widen in surprise as she sees Daniel standing there, holding flowers. "Hey," he greets, his voice a bit more uncertain than usual.

"Forgot something?" she teases, her voice holding a light note.

He scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly. "Yeah, I know it might sound a bit forward, but how about we grab a drink tonight?"

She chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Wow, smooth move, Daniel."

He grins, his signature charm kicking in. "I mean, we did establish a connection over art and stories. I thought it'd be a shame not to continue that."

She raises an eyebrow, teasing. "You must really trust me if you're inviting me to a dark alley for drinks."

He laughs, the sound genuine and carefree. "Oh, I'd never take you to a dark alley. It's a rooftop bar with a view – much safer."

She feigns contemplation, tapping a finger to her lips. "Hmm, rooftop bar, huh? Well, I guess I can make an exception for a charming race car driver."

He pumps a fist in the air, playfully victorious. "Yes! You won't regret it, promise."

She grins, shaking her head. "Alright, Daniel, you've got yourself a date. But you better not show up in a racing suit."

He feigns a pout, "But I look so good in them."

"Save the suit for the track. Just be yourself," she replies with a warm smile.

He nods, his eyes locking onto hers. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."

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otdiaftg · 2 months

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The King's Men - Chapter Sixteen (18)

Day: Friday, April 5th / 6th* Time: 9:48 PM PST

"Is it over?" Neil's backliner mark gasps out. "Oh, thank god." Neil looks over at Alvarez and is floored to see her smiling. She thrusts a gloved hand his way even as her legs wobble and give out. Neil catches her somehow and helps haul her back to her feet. She props herself against him and scrabbles ineffectually at the straps on her helmet. It takes her a few tries before she realizes her fingers are too numb to manage it. She gives up and taps her helmet against his instead. "Is this what dying feels like?" she asks, and calls over her shoulder, "Babe, I think I'm dying. Do I still have legs? I can't look down. I don't think I have legs. I don't think I'll ever walk again." "Uh-huh," Laila says, trotting over to them. "You'd better figure something out, because you're definitely too heavy for me to carry off this court." "Rude." Alvarez gropes blindly for Laila's shoulder until Laila hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her off Neil. Alvarez is still smiling, that half-crazy too-wide look that reminds Neil a little of Lola and a little of Nicky. Neil tries to remember if she'd been hit in the head at any point tonight but the Foxes had kept the violence within excusable limits. It seemed only fair considering what good sports the Trojans are. "That was fantastic," Alvarez says. "I want to do it again. Next year, maybe, when my legs grow back." "Stop being such a baby," Laila says. "Ignore her," Alvarez says to Neil. "She's just sour because she lost nine goals in forty-five minutes. Don't know why, not like it's a new personal record or—ohhh, it is. Ouch, that's gotta sting a bit. So much for being first-draft." "Bitch," Laila says without any heat. "That's what you get for calling me fat," Alvarez says. She looks back at Neil and gestures past him. "Oops, looks like the party started without you. Go, go, go!" Neil looks over his shoulder to see the Foxes celebrating on the half- court line. He starts to turn toward them, then looks back at Alvarez and Laila. "Your team is terrifying," he says, inspired by Alvarez's enthusiasm to be honest. "We'll be cheering for you next week." Alvarez flashes a thumbs-up, so Neil jogs to meet his team. He hears Alvarez ask how anyone can still run after "the world's longest game", but he figures it is directed at Laila and doesn't slow to hear the answer.

Art used with permission by llstarcasterll. Thank you @llstarcasterll!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

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mountainsandmayhem · 7 days

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🌊 Beach Babe 🌊

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: There’s no summary, this is just you and Marcus having a hot one night stand on the beach. It’s all corn, no plot

Content Warning: oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, praise kink (duh, have we met?), dirty talk

AN: This is my entry for the beautiful @mermaidgirl30’s Ocean Challenge. She is usually my beta but I wanted to surprise her so this is not beta read or proof read really, but it’s not like the internet is forever or anything haha. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I’m no longer doing a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for updates 🙂

“You can do it, baby. Yeah. Fuck, just relax your throat.” His voice is a heady whisper. You squeeze the meat of his upper thigh like he showed you and he pulls you off of him. Salvia and pre cum falling onto your tits, the triangle cups of your wet swimsuit are tucked underneath them, holding them high for the stranger that just had his dick pressing against the back of your throat.

His thumb reaches down and swipes across your swollen bottom lip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Let me know when you're ready for more.”

You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you’re already nodding your head, you’re not above begging if that’s what he wants. “More. Now. Please, I want more.”

His hands tangle back into your hair, he looks around the sand dunes and tall grasses that keep you somewhat protected to ensure you don’t have any visitors before he thrusts roughly into your mouth. You hold back a gag, closing your eyes and trying to breathe through your nose.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he whines softly when you push your tongue past your bottom lip to swipe your tongue along his balls. He yanks you off him and you gasp out, sucking in the cool salty air of the ocean just behind you.

“Fuck me,” you coo, pulling at the baby pink drawstrings that are holding up your bottoms. They fall to the soft sand with a wet smacking sound. His eyes fall to the apex of your thighs and he licks his lips hungrily.

“Get on all fours, now.” You smile at the rough commanding tone, spin your ass towards him and get on your hands and knees. He lets out a groan as you arch your back enticingly.

When Pike was assigned a new trainee in California he wasn’t overly thrilled about it. He had finally settled in DC after what he’d been through the last time he was in this state. However, ego aside, he was the best in the country at this job, and the training would only take a few weeks. The guy he was training had an impressive resume, he was probably more educated on art than Pike himself. He didn’t want to think about that now though, he’ll meet him tomorrow. Right now he wants to focus on this insatiable ball of need that was pushing her pert little ass out at him. He’s not sure what came over him when he saw you sitting in the sand, but he knew he would be fucking you before he left, and with the beach pretty much deserted as the sun started to set he made his move.

“I’m Elle,” you had said as you shook his hand, biting your bottom lip.

It wasn’t long after he said his name was Marcus that the two of you were ducking between the dunes and grass and he had his swollen cock rammed down your throat.

He lowers himself to the sand, tracing a thick finger through your folds, spreading your wetness. He swirls your clit and you cry out in pleasure, “Gotta be quiet for me, sweet girl.”

You nod and hum in agreement as he slips two fingers deep inside you. To stay quiet you focus on your breathing. Short, laboured breaths in and out, in and out. He twists his wrist to be palm down, watching the way your tiny pink entrance sucks at his fingers, the way your juices squeeze out, and then he curls his fingers forward and every nerve in your body tingles. Marcus has never had an issue finding that spot before.

You gasp, the salty air burning your lungs as you try to keep your noises to nothing but hushed whimpers. “Good girl. Stay quiet. That’s it.”

He picks up the pace, pushing and pushing on that spongy spot inside you before bringing his free hand around, his middle finger easily finding your swollen clit. Your arms buckle at the pleasure of it all, landing on your elbows, opening yourself up to him more. You bite the skin of your forearm as the pleasure starts to reach its peak.

“Come on, you can do it. I can feel how close you are. Squeezing my fingers so tight. Let go, baby, let go.”

Just as you start to come he pulls his fingers out and slams his rock hard cock inside of you. The welcome stretch has you coming harder than you ever have before, back arched like you’re in some sort of tantric yoga pose. His cock is so buried so deep that you can feel it pressing into your cervix. He doesn’t stop the tight circles of your clit as you clench around him tightly, body twitching and legs shaking at the feel of him.

You thought you were just going to have a relaxing evening on the beach, a nice way to celebrate the promotion you recently received at work. Truthfully, what better way to celebrate than being fucked into oblivion by a handsome stranger.

As your orgasm begins to morph into overstimulation you release you teeth from your forearm, deep red and purple marks left behind. You voice comes out breathy and you almost don’t recognize it as your own, “Fuck me now. Just fuck me. Please.”

“Not gonna last long,” he says as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts hard back into you.

“I don’t care, just fucking give it to me, Marcus.” His hands grip your hips tightly as he repeats the same motion. Pulling out torturously slow, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of his heavy cock, before he slams back in.

“Ready?” He hums, his hips pressed firmly to your ass.

“Yesss,” you whisper.

He starts to really fuck you. Its fast and hard and with every thrust you can feel his dick swelling bigger. He bruises the walls of your slick pussy with the pace he’s setting, all while whispering praises about how good you are and how well you're taking him. “Should see how much this little pussy loves being stretched. She’s crying for me, baby.”

“Cum all over my back. I wanna feel it.” You moan.

“Fuckfuck - oh god, such a good girl for me.” He pulls out roughly, strings of your arousal and his pre cum keeping you connected temporarily before he grips his cock and pumps into his fist.

You look over your shoulder to watch him. He looks wrecked, his outgrown hair all messy, eyebrows fused together as he looks at your ass with glazed over eyes. With a shuddering breath he comes, coating your ass and back in warm white ropes of cum. He sits back on his heels and admires his painting. Smirking to himself he says, “Look like a work of art, baby.”

After a few calming breaths he grabs your swimsuit bottoms and wipes off his cum. “Stay here,” he says, slipping his red swimsuit back on and after a careful look around he jogs over the sand dune. You stay there, almost fully naked with your ass in the air waiting for him.

Marcus rinses the cum off your bottoms in the ocean and then jogs back to you. He helps you up and watches you put your swimsuit back on. As you grab your cover up from your bag he says, “Well, that was fun. Unexpected, but fun.”

“I agree,” you say, feeling your cheeks warm.

“I’m - umm, well I’m just visiting for a few weeks but if you wanted to see each other -“

You cut him off, “You don’t have to do that. It’s really ok if this was just a one time thing.”

He nods.

You grab your stuff and after you two smile at each other sweetly you turn to start to walk back to your condo.

“Elle,” he calls after you. You stop and turn to face him. “What if I don’t want this to be a one time thing?”

You laugh and shake your head. You call back, “Then you better be at the beach tomorrow around eight.”

When you wake in the morning you can still feel the dull ache of Marcus all over your body. The back of your throat, in between your thighs, the bite mark on your arm and the small bruises on your hips. He’s still everywhere and you relish in it.

You start your new job today, so after finding a long sleeve blouse to cover your teeth marks, and doing your best to look both professional and serious you head to your new office building.

You trace your fingers over the nameplate on your door. They’ve used your full name and you’ll have to ask them to update that to Elle, people always assume things when they see your full name.

You put your bag down and log into your computer just as you hear a soothing, deep and friendly voice travel down the hallway.

“Good morning. I’m looking for Elliot Hall. I’m supposed to be training him for the next few weeks.” Your spine stiffens. You know that voice.

No way. There’s no way.

The receptionist giggles, “Elliot is a female. Her office is second door on the right. She just got in.”

His shoes click on the hardwood of the hallway, each step closer has your heart racing. There’s a quiet knock on your open door and when you look up you lock eyes with Marcus.

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #Marcus pike fan fic #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro stories #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal smut

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sleepyghostuwu · 1 month

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The Artist and the Gem: Part 1

"I'm pretty sure this only happens in dreams."

Synopsis: An IPC member part-timing as an artist unknowingly spices up her life when a certain colleague comes to her for a leisurely art commission.

Notes: Fem! Reader POV since it's what I'm more comfy writing in for this series. I also have no clue how art commissions work so apologies if it isn't lore-accurate ^^"

Ping!

You groan as you reluctantly reach for your phone for the umpteenth time today, bracing yourself to read your client's incessant texts about your work progress despite it being mere weeks since they first contacted you. Combining that with the fact that your supervisors were piling you with more paperwork these days made it all the more frustrating to deal with.

"Hi again! I feel the need to mention that I have a full-time job outside of my artist life, and also take note that it takes time in general to complete multiple people's commissions over time. I will send you more WIPs once I'm available to do so. Thanks for your patience!"

As cordial as the text sounded when you sent it out, you were like a pot filled with boiling water, ready to burst in fury in the event that client continues to add fuel to the fire. Too angry to continue doing work properly, you excused yourself to get a drink at the pantry.

As the coffee machine whirred to life on the counter, you hear your phone ringing again. Doing your utmost to keep your composure, your trembling hands open your inbox. This time, it was not your current client who texted you, but a new one.

"Hey (username), I find your artworks to be rather intriguing. I saw on your webpage that you're still taking in commissions, so I was wondering if I could trouble you to do one for me."

"At least this one's polite about this," you muttered as you replied to their message with equal respect.

"Hey there! Happy to know that you appreciate my art! My commission list is quite full at the moment, so I'm afraid that it will take long while to complete yours. Would you mind if your commission took a longer time to complete, or would you rather contact me another time instead?"

That should do, you think to yourself as you retrieve your coffee cup from the machine and take a sip of your drink. Your phone rings again.

"It's all good. Take as much time as you need. I'm not in a rush :)"

Your eyes practically lit up upon reading that message. Unlimited time for a commission? In times like these? Is this heaven?? You quickly shoot back another text.

"Very well. What would you like me to draw, then?"

"I would like you to draw a portrait of Aventurine from the IPC."

...

You've got to be kidding me.

You blink furiously at your client's art request, trying to make sure that you did not misread whatever they sent to you.

"That's an interesting request you got here."

Who even is requesting for this from me? A fan from the Aventurine Fan Squad? For all you knew, any of your colleagues could have either chanced upon your art account or decided to knowingly exploit your creativity for their own pleasure. As you type out the default reminder for them to pay up as per your terms, your phone rings twice.

[100,000 Credits have been transferred to your bank account.]

"Say less. Wishing you the best of luck ;)"

You take a huge gulp of coffee as you switch off your phone, evidently more stressed about your artistic career than you already were before. With such a hefty sum of money transferred to you for a singular drawing, chances are that you will have to pool in all of your creativity for this particular commission if it means that your mystery client would be assured to get their money's worth. Taking a glimpse at the nearest clock within your hindsight, you quickly down your coffee before rushing back to your cubicle, ready to check off your task list if it meant more time to draw later on.

---

As you briskly return to your cubicle to work, a certain blond man in green glances at you from a distance and smiles.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #hsr #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #star rail #aventurine x you #star rail aventurine

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thezombieprostitute · 4 months

Text

Hummingbird - Part 2

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1500

A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.

Warnings: I don't think there are any, but please let me know if I'm wrong on that!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

You look over the party invite, feeling slightly guilty for receiving so many of them without ever actually going. You tell yourself all the excuses but ultimately it all comes down to you feeling like you’re taking advantage of Mr. Rogers generosity. You were only doing what any other good person should do. Why would anyone think that deserves a reward? Sighing, you put the invitation with the stack of others.

While you’re pondering your dinner options you hear a knock at your door. Confused, you look through the peephole and freeze. That tall, thick build and blonde hair is definitely Mr. Rogers. You crack the door open, “hello, Sir. What…what are you doing here?”

“Honestly, Hummingbird, I’m a little hurt,” he chides. His hands are on his hips and his expression is stern. “It’s been a lot of months, a lot of invites, a lot of art shows and you haven’t once taken me up on my offer. I called the curator and she said she hadn’t seen you, even during normal gallery hours.” You drop your face in shame. “Are you not actually interested in art? Is it really just one artist that gets your attention?”

“N-no, Sir-”

“Steve.”

“No, Steve, I…I just…” your brain scrambles to come up with something. Just a few minutes ago you told yourself all of the excuses you needed but with his piercing, blue eyes seemingly looking into your soul, they all feel baseless. “I…I don’t have nice enough clothes.”

He smiles, and not in a comforting way. It reminds you of the first smile he gave you, when he knew the perfect reward. “I was wondering if it was something like that. May I come in?”

A part of you feels like you really shouldn’t but his demeanor has you opening up the door, gesturing for him to enter. He nods at you and comes inside, carrying a black box with a white ribbon. You close the door behind him and turn to see him holding out the box to you.

“A gift from Monica’s parents. Had to guess at the measurements, so I’m under orders to make sure it fits.” You take the box and set it on your kitchen table before opening it. Inside is the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. The embroidery is stunning. You gasp as you carefully lift the dress out of the box and see that it covers the dress. It’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever held and you’re scared you’ll somehow tear it or ruin it.

“Si–Steve,” you whisper as tears start forming in your eyes, “it’s…it’s too much. It’s too beautiful. I…I can’t-”

“Hummingbird,” he grumbles, “if you tell me you can’t accept it, I’ll have to go back to Danvers and Rambeau with the bad news that their gift was not accepted.” You wince at the thought. “Not accepting my gift is one thing, you only saved my party and my reputation. Not accepting their gift is far more insulting since it’s a thank you for rescuing their daughter.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you mumble.

“I figured.” He steps closer to you. “Now, as I said, I am under orders to make sure that the dress does fit you. While I am here, would you please try it on and inform me if there are spots where it doesn’t fit right? I promise to stay seated here at the table.”

“Um..but, we…we don’t, I don’t know you well enough. Can you come back another day and I’ll tell you how it fits? Or I could message you about the fit?”

“Are you asking for my number, Hummingbird?” Heat rushes to your face as he confidently smirks at you. “I appreciate your hesitation but, as I said, I’m under orders from Monica’s mothers and they are not the kind of ladies you want to disobey. I will stay just outside your apartment door, lock it behind me if you want, but I need you to try that dress on now.”

You nod and gesture to your apartment door. As he starts walking he notices the small pile of invites he’s sent you these past few months.

“You didn’t throw them away?”

“No, of course not. They’re a nice reminder of that night.” He nods his head but doesn’t say anything, closing the door behind him.

You lock the deadbolt and take the dress to your room. In truth you’re terrified of accidentally ripping the dress but you’re incredibly excited to try on the beautiful piece of clothing. As you strip your casual wear you hope you can do the dress justice.

With the utmost care you put on the dress. The sleeve is a little confusing at first but the more of the dress that settles the easier it is to navigate. You’re amazed at how perfectly it fits. He said they had to guess your measurements. Well, whoever made the guess has a very good eye. You look at yourself in the mirror and gasp at the pretty woman looking back at you. The dress is a perfect fit and you’ve never felt more beautiful. With a confidence you’ve never felt before, you go back to the apartment door to let Steve know.

The door opens and Steve greets you with a bouquet of pink and lavender roses. That burst of confidence is gone and you freeze, blinking at him.

“I see you’re ready for the party,” he beams. “We should show up a little early since I am hosting and need to double check some details. But don’t worry about those, you just have fun tonight, okay?”

“B..but the…the invite said…next month.”

“Oh that’s correct. There’s another party next month. Huh,” he mused, “the invite to this party must’ve been lost in the mail.”

“Si–Steve, that wasn’t nice to trick me.”

“It also wasn’t nice for you to snub my gift.”

“I…I didn’t, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay, Hummingbird,” he soothes. “Just this one, and if you still don’t want to attend any parties or visit the gallery, I’ll leave you be.”

“Thank you. Let me put these flowers in some water before we go?”

He gently kisses your hand, “of course.”

Steve holds the door to the gallery open for you. You’re hoping you can just spend the evening getting lost in the art and not drawing attention to yourself. You really don’t want to embarrass Steve by upsetting his guests or ruining the party in some other way.

The two of you are greeted by the curator who says she’s pleased to finally meet you and she hopes to see you more often. You smile weakly, thinking she’s just being nice because Steve is there. She leads you both to the hall where the party is being set up. You’re a little surprised that it’s empty of people. Giving Steve a confused look you ask, “how early are we?”

“We’re exactly on time,” he smiles gently. “I still want to thank you for your actions so I’ve rented the place for just you. Take your time, enjoy yourself. If you need something to eat or drink, just ask and I’ll get it for you. If you want to do this without me around, I’ll stay back. If you want to talk about the artwork instead of just looking at it, I’ll be happy to join you. It’s all your decision.”

“Th..the dress?”

“I wasn’t lying about that. It is a thank you gift from Monica’s mothers.”

“How’d they get my measurements so right? They barely saw me.”

Steve smirks at that, “I gave them the measurements.” You look at him in surprise and he chuckles, “I’ve got a lot of experience in sizing people up.” Whether it’s nerves catching up with you or the absurdity of the situation you actually laugh at that and find yourself relaxing a little. His eyes light up at your laugh but he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, Steve,” you nod. “I think I’d like to walk with you. As much as I enjoyed the last show, it probably would’ve been more fun if I had someone to share the experience with.”

Steve offers you his arm and you don’t hesitate to take it. He’s happy to let you take the lead. You spend the next few hours walking together and talking about the different artists, techniques and mediums you see. Steve is delighted to see how excited you get the more comfortable you are. You’re brimming with energy and you flit back and forth between pieces while talking.

As exciting as it all is, you do still get tired after a while. Every time you try to stifle a yawn you swear you see Steve’s eyes twinkle at you in amusement. Soon it’s impossible to even try.

“What do you say we get you home, Hummingbird?”

“But there’s so much more to see!”

“You’re barely awake,” he chuckles. “Let’s get you home. You can see more at the next party.”

“Next party?”

“If, of course, you’re still interested. If not, that latest invite will be the last you receive, I promise.”

“Noooo,” you whimper tiredly. “I’ve had so much fun. Haven’t had this much fun in such a long time.”

“Me too, Hummingbird,” he murmurs. “Me, too.”

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey

@aryhyuuga

@cynic-spirit

@ktficworld

@rebekahdawkins

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

#mob boss!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob!steve rogers x reader

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

Text

Remember me? (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Her blood boiled as she watched Rhys talk to her son. Fin nodded eagerly before turning back to the drawing in front of him. She had seen enough when the bastard had the audacity to to hold her son's hand and help him with the painting.

"Fin! I'm back baby!" Y/n announced, walking up behind her son. He looked up smiling as the High Lord went rigid.

"Can I finish this mama? Its almost done." He said, pointing to the paper he was colouring on with crayons. Y/n smiled and nodded.

"I need to talk to someone. You finish it, I'll be right here." And then she had grabbed Rhys's collar and tugged, and he stood without much fuss, following her out the doors and around the corner.

"Y/n–"

"No Rhysand. What about 'stay away from him' do you not understand?"

"You can't keep me away from him forever. He's my son–"

"He stopped being yours the moment you left me and him to fend for ourselves."

"I didn't know!"

"Exactly. Because if you knew, you wouldn't have left and I would never have found out what an asshole you are. And, despite how much I hate you for leaving us, I'm grateful that you did, because it opened my eyes to how distrustful males are. My son deserves better than that."

"She was my mate! Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing." His eyes looked so helpless that for a moment Y/n felt bad. But then she shook her head. She needed to be strong, for her son, and for her own sanity.

"I wouldn't have done that, Rhys. Because, no other love would compare for the one I had for you. I would atleast not have abandoned you without preamble." Her eyes prickled, and she looked away from the male she had loved more than she had loved her own life. "Stay. Away. From. Him."

"How do you expect me to stay away from my own blood? I can't do it, when he'd be in front of me. You can't do this to me. You can't do this to him."

"If him being in front of you is the problem, then you won't see him again."

"What..."

"I was here because someone said that this place would keep us safe from my father. Guess I'll find another court to keep him safe."

"You can't..."

She gave him a hard stare. "I can and I will."

Then she turned and went to retrieve her son. As soon as she entered the art studio, Fin ran upto her, giggling.

"Hello again mama!"

Y/n smiled. "Hello baby. Did you enjoy?"

"Yes! I also made a new friend. Come." He dragged her to where Feyre was sitting, a small boy speaking enthusiastically to her as she smiled. Fin touched the other boys shoulder, who immediately grinned when he turned. "Mama, this is Nyx."

"Hello Nyx. How are you doing today?" Y/n asked, crouching down. She knew exactly who Nyx was, she had heard that the High Lord of Night had a son, but she hadn't wanted to believe it.

Nyx looked exactly like Fin, and it unnerved her. Only difference was that Fin's eyes were so dark they were almost black, and his hair, which was white. Y/n's mother had white hair, and that's where Fin got it from.

Feyre's hand which was resting on Nyx's shoulder tightened, and when Y/n glanced at her, she realised Feyre thought Y/n wanted to hurt him. The both of them maintained eye contact, for long enough that Feyre understood that Y/n would never hurt any child, it didn't not matter that the child in question was a stark reminder that her first and only love had left her for someone else.

"I am good. How are you?" Nyx said, then glanced at his mother to see if he'd said the right thing. Feyre smiled and nodded.

That was when Rhysand stepped into the art studio. When Y/n glanced at him, he froze. When he found her talking to his son, he came to stand next to Feyre, his eyes now locked on Fin.

"Mama, remeber how I said I wanted a baby brother? Nyx's younger than me and I feel like he's my younger brother." Fin said, and Nyx nodded enthusiastically as the two boys started taking excitedly.

The two kids didn't notice that their parents had gone rigid, staring at them.

Y/n glanced at Feyre, who stared at her, her eyes swirling with emotion. Y/n swallowed before smiling. "That he could be. But can we talk about it some other time? Is getting late. We need to go home."

"Okay mama. Bye bye Nyx." Fin waved at Nyx, who waved back.

Before they could exit the studio though, Feyre walked upto Y/n.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you two were–"

But Y/n smiled, shaking her head. "Its okay. It's not your fault he's an– a bad person." She barely stopped herself from saying asshole. Fin peeked at her curiously as she said goodbye to Feyre, patting her shoulder, before walking out.

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared fondly at her son as she and Fin sat on a bench right next to the Sidra. They were in an ice cream parlour's outdoor seating area as Fin happily licked away at the treat in his hands.

It had been a week since they had gone to the High Lady's art studio. He had expected to go there again, but Y/n didn't trust Rhysand, and so Fin had given her an offer. She had to let him have ice cream for a whole week without restrictions and paint with him if she didnt want him to go to the art studio.

Y/n had, of course, agreed, shaking her head at her sons antics. That little boy was smart, and he had somehow picked up on his mother's unease around Nyx's father.

After she had agreed to his terms though, he had laughed and said he didn't even want to go there again and just wanted her to agree to his demands. Y/n had gaped at his little figure as he ran off to play with his toys.

While Y/n was busy with her thoughts, she didn't realise Fin had finished his ice cream and was now staring at someone nearby.

Y/n realised it was a male, who leaned against the railing and was making faces at Fin, who giggled. He had red hair and amber eyes, and he was easily the most beautiful man Y/n had ever seen. She smiled. It was heartwarming that a stranger would do something to make her son happy.

"Mama, he has red hair." Fin stated, making her blink.

"Yes darling, he does." Y/n muttered as she cleaned his face of the sticky dessert, wiping his hands down. "Why are you telling me that?"

"I have not seen many people with red hair." He said before jumping off the bench and running towards the exit. He was halfway to it when he tripped over his own feet.

Y/n shot up, running to him. But before she could get to him, the stranger was already helping him up.

"You shouldn't run. You'll get hurt." The red haired male said as he brushed down Fin. Y/n reached them just then, crouching next to the male.

"Are you okay? How many times do I have to tell you to not run." She murmured, clutching her son to her chest. When he pulled away, there were fat tears running down his chubby cheeks. "What happened? Did you get hurt?" He nodded, pointing to his knees, which had scraped and blood seeped from the tiny cut on it. "Oh my poor baby. We'll get you patched up, yeah?" He nodded again.

"I don't think you'll be able to walk very nicely with that wound. Let me help you." He suddenly picked Fin up, standing.

"It's okay. I'll take him. " She stood and turned to the male, who shook his head.

"Please, I'll be happy to help."

Y/n knew it was dangerous to trust someone who she just met, but for some reason, she felt like she could trust this male. So she told him that her house was nearby.

During the whole walk, she stayed silent, studying the man, who was talking to Fin as if his life depended on it. She felt like she knew him somehow, but that would be impossible.

Soon, they were at the apartment that they lived in, and the man dutifully handed her son back to Y/n.

"I don't think I caught your name."

"Eris." He smiled, looking for any reaction on her face.

She wracked her brain for something, anything that she might know about an Eris. And then it clicked.

"You're the High Lord of Autumn Court. What are you doing in Velaris?"

He shrugged. "I was allowed entry due to an alliance with the High Lord. First time visiting this place."

Y/n nodded. Then she said goodbye to Eris, turning to go into her apartment when Fin waved to him, smiling. "Bye bye."

"Bye Finnian."

"Will we meet again?" Y/n froze, staring at the little kid in her arms before glancing at Eris.

"I sure hope so. And if your mother allows it." He said, his eyes twinkling and curling at the edges.

Fin cheered, before Eris bowed and walked away, hands in pockets. Y/n watched after him, wondering for a moment before entering her house.

She knew if Fin met Eris again, he would be very happy. She hoped they would, as she wanted nothing more than her son's happiness.

And somewhere, deep inside her soul, something ancient and primal would also be happy, but she didn't know that.

The ancient and primal thing which had begun to come out of hiding, slowly but surely.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess

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hotteoki · 1 year

Text

boyfriend skz things - happy 1k followers!

notes: this was long overdue so i rushed it a bit, but thank you everyone so so much for 1k! here’s a lil celebration that was not proofread 😭

chan (방찬) - flirting

despite being in a long-term relationship with him, chan will never stop complimenting you, opening doors for you, spoiling you with gifts etc. it’s so frequent to the point where the others have long given up on making fun of him, opting for a simultaneous groan whenever the both of you share any type of interaction.

just as chan was about to lean in to kiss you, jisung interrupted from beside you, “the parents are at it again!” this created a trend for everyone to follow, screaming a few “get a room!”s or “not again!”s. chan pursed his lips, “i really look forward to the day i move out.” you laughed, “you don’t mean that.” “no i really do.”

minho (민호) - sending filter videos

it was very well known that minho is an avid filter user, using sending random videos to stays on bubble and laughing about them. little did anyone know, the amount of videos or pictures minho posts online were only 1/5th of how many he sends you. without even counting them, you could confidently say that 90% of your gallery was him with some ridiculous filter.

"min, stop sending me stuff, my storage is running out because of you." minho blinked at you slowly, before turning his attention back to his phone, ironically already filming a video with him as a bumblebee, "no." you laughed, "what do you mean, no? i quite literally have more pictures of you than me on my phone-" "good."

changbin (창빈) - reminding you to drink water

knowing how much changbin cares about his health, it was safe to assume that he would care just as much about yours. before he began dedicating his time in the gym, it was always you reminding him to stay hydrated. changbin used to be the most forgetful person ever, and would always be too busy working to drink water. however, after you switched jobs, you were often too stressed to eat or drink at all. thank your lucky stars that changbin is basically a walking alarm.

a glass of water was wordlessly placed beside your laptop on the desk. "binnie, i just drank some literally 5 minutes ago," you looked up from your screen to meet his stern eyes. "no, you drank a sip of my water over an hour ago," changbin crossed his arms, staring pointedly at the clock. you knew he wasn't going to budge until you finished every last drop of that glass, so you complied, downing the water. it was only then did he smile proudly, kissing your forehead quickly before leaving to wash the glass.

hyunjin (현진) - drawing

everyone knows how much hyunjin loves art, most of the pieces he posts on instagram were of flowers, or sceneries. however, he has a notebook that is dedicated to his drawings of you. he knows how you aren't confident in yourself most of the time, but he's determined to prove you wrong. whenever you were with him, hyunjin would always have his notebook and pencil in hand, ready to sketch you.

"what are you always drawing?" "hm?" hyunjin hummed, gaze still fixating on his pages. "i mean, you're always drawing something, can i see what it is?" his cheeks turned slightly pink from your attention, "i'll show you when i'm finished." "but you work on a new piece every time?" hyunjin paused, thinking of a reply to that, "i'll show you the entire book when i'm done. i have around 11 pages left or so anyway." you nodded, satisfied with that answer. hyunjin smiled to himself before continuing his work on your eyes, he always thought they were the prettiest he'd ever seen.

jisung (지성) - petting

it started off as a subconscious movement, you were pretty certain jisung hadn’t even realised doing it until you asked him why he was stroking your arm out of nowhere. he responded with a blush, moving away before you could stop him. it was when it happened again that you told him you found it adorable, and that was also when jisung kissed you for the first time.

“i never got to ask you,” you said, nudging jisung's foot with yours, earning a hum from him. “why do you always pet me?” the hand that was caressing your thigh halted, before continuing as jisung thought of an answer, “i don’t know. i think i just got used to petting bbama, and now i pet you.” you kissed his cheek lightly, smiling against his skin, “fair enough.”

felix (용복) - baking

it was regular for felix to bake a batch of brownies for the members and staff, and usually they would all be devoured before you could even get your hands on one of them, which is why felix would always bake a smaller batch reserved just for you. sometimes they would have chocolate chips in them, or m&ms, whatever you were craving, they would probably be put in the brownies.

"yah, felix, do you have any more brownies?" minho yelled from across the room. "no, sorry, that was all!" felix called back. "what do you mean? you literally have a box of them right there?" jeongin pointed out. felix immediately reacted, extending his arm until it was out of jeongin's reach, "they're not yours." "they're mine!" you added in, walking over to felix and taking the box from him, kissing his cheek as a thank you. "ugh, not in here," minho recoiled.

seungmin (승민) - taking pictures

much like hyunjin, he's an avid believer of capturing the moment. seungmin carries a film camera with him at all times, knowing that if he used a regular camera, you would ask to see the picture and instantly ask him to delete it. by using a film camera, you wouldn't be able to see the picture, and seungmin would be able to print them out without your knowing, and pocket them in his wallet.

"when did you take this?" you indicated at the picture of you in his wallet, you swore you've never seen that picture before. "a while ago," seungmin shrugged, taking his wallet from your hands. "do you just take pictures of me out of nowhere?" you laughed. "yeah, all the time. i thought you knew that." you blinked, "i did not." "well now you do."

jeongin (정인) - letting you wear his rings

jeongin's usually very reluctant about letting other people borrow his things, but when he saw you trying on some of his rings, he knew he would let you have anything you wanted that belonged to him. it wasn't even a possessive thing, he simply thought that it warmed his heart to know that you loved him so much you would wear a reminder of him every day.

"hey, can i borrow this for tonight? it goes with my outfit." without even looking up from his phone, jeongin nodded, "sure." "innie, you're not even looking," you stated teasingly. he smiled, "i don't need to. you can keep whatever you want." you gaped, "really?" jeongin switched his phone off, beaming at you, "yeah. what's mine is yours. not my clothes though, i need them for my ootds."

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cuubism · 2 years

Text

"A van Dyck," Dream drawled, dragging a light finger along the gilt frame of the painting propped on the top of one of Hob's shelves. Hob really should do something more formal with that. "Interesting thing to have in your living room, Hob."

"I tell people it's a print," Hob said, coming to stand beside him and handing him his tea.

"Oh, but it is not." There was a smirk dancing on Dream's lips, Hob knew without even looking at him directly.

"Makes sense that you'd be able to tell," he sighed.

"Of course. Just how did you come across such a thing?"

"Well, I was still mingling with the aristocracy in the early 17th century. Met some interesting people." He shrugged. "Really should have sold it when I was, well, destitute, but couldn't bear to. Managed to stash it away. One of the few things I have of that time, actually."

"I can only imagine you had more than one valuable thing in your possession over the centuries," Dream mused, sipping his tea. "Why this one?"

Oh, God. He knew, didn't he?

Hob rubbed at the back of his neck. "Reminded me of you."

Hob had never known much about art, particularly back then. He hardly would consider himself a collector and certainly not a connoisseur. But that particular portrait had caught his attention immediately for its similarity to Dream.

The likeness was, indeed, striking. His hair was longer than it had been when they'd met in 1589, sweeping over his shoulders, and his features were half-draped in shadow, but his eyes. Hob would know that haughty, intense gaze anywhere.

He'd never quite discounted the idea that it was a portrait of his stranger, except that he couldn't imagine him having the patience or cause to sit for it, or the desire to be immortalized in that way.

"It is me," said Dream.

"What? Seriously?" Hob turned to stare at him and found Dream already looking back, ethereal and lovely. There was only one lamp on in the living room, night falling around them, and it cast his face in a similar light to the portrait, soft gleaming skin and plunging darkness as backdrop, limitless shadow in his eyes. "You, allowing a portrait? You're not having me on?"

"I do not joke." Dream took a step closer to him, setting his tea aside on a table. "I suppose I must have been in good humor that day."

Hob raised both eyebrows. "Oh, uh-huh, you in good humor?"

Dream's lips ticked up in a half-smile. "It happens occasionally."

Hob leaned against the shelf, careful not to jostle the painting. "For someone who so disdains the waking world, you sure are very aware of the art scene."

Dream leaned beside him, tilting his head. "You might consider me a patron of the arts."

Hob chuckled. "A patron? Or an inspiration?" He reached out and dragged his thumb along Dream's lower lip. "Dream?"

"A lover of artists, perhaps."

"I'm sure." Hob swept a hand along his cheek, breaking up the light like he was dragging a wet brush through paint. "You look like you could have stepped right out of that painting right now. You could have stepped out of any painting."

Dream looked at him from under his lashes. "Are you calling me a work of art, Hob Gadling?"

"Always."

Then Hob kissed him, hands framing his beautiful face. Dream was like an artwork, constant in essence but changing interpretation in every new light. Hob could imagine how many people over the centuries had had a fleeting encounter with him and come away changed, just as he had.

Dream hovered near him when they parted. Hob looked over to the painting again. No mere depiction could capture Dream in all of his colors, but it really was a rather good try. Van Dyck had gotten the depth of his eyes just right.

"The Baroque period suits you," Hob told him.

"Now who knows something about art?"

"I've picked up a few things over the years. I'm in love with the world's greatest artist, after all."

Dream moved in as if to kiss him, but paused to speak against Hob's mouth. "There are other works of me out in the world, if you care to seek them out."

"Don't open that challenge because I will do it," Hob informed him, quite seriously.

"I hope so." There was a sharp gleam in Dream's eyes. Hob could only imagine what kinds of paintings might inspire that look. "I look forward to seeing what you find."

#this is so like. specific to MY interests XD #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #dreamling fic #i think about Dream and art a lot #and also Hob having random weird expensive stuff just casually in his flat #kinda wanted to use a more dramatic baroque artist for dream than van dyck but i just really like the way he does EYES and GAZES #also he worked in england so hob could have conceivably come across his work? idk #i don't actually know anything about art i just guesstimate #my writing

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cerise-on-top · 5 months

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Love Languages

What is says in the title. I have no requests right now and I thought now would be a good time to write these, I've been meaning to for over a month now, I think. General fluff, relationship to reader is romantic. GN!reader. Only thing I can think of would be one somewhat dirty joke. But it's literally just Alejandro teaching reader a phrase in Spanish and that's about it.

Price: Acts of Service. He’s been in the military for a while now and, while he may be used to giving orders these days, he remembers the days well where a superior would yell at him to do something. Price is well aware that the chances of survival go up tremendously when everyone is working together as a team, regardless of whether you’ve been given a command to help your pal out or not. It’s almost subconscious, actually. You drop something without you noticing? He’ll pick it up, trailing behind you while carrying it. The dishes need to be done? He’s on it immediately, maybe whistling a song even while he does so. You’re in need of medication? Mans notices when you’re running out before you do and always makes sure to get the prescription and or the meds if he’s able to. And if he can’t then he’ll remind you to pick them up, going with you. As a captain, he’s a busy bee, always filing reports and doing whatnot, so him taking the time out of his day to do something, no matter what, isn’t as small a thing as one might think. It doesn’t even matter how small, repetitive and tedious the task is, he’ll do it just for you. Won’t make a big deal out of it, though, just you noticing he did something for you is more than enough. Give him a kiss in return while thanking him and he’ll be the happiest man alive as well.

Gaz: Words of Affirmation. While it’s hard to pin down one love language for him, he absolutely adores making you feel loved using his words. He can be a cheeky bastard, sassing just about anyone he knows he’ll get away with relatively unharmed, always knowing what to say to make just about any situation go from dreadful to a bit more humorous, for the most part. Gaz does well with words, plus he can also read facial expressions very well. While there might be some guesswork involved from time to time, if you let him, he’ll find the right words fairly quickly. Doesn’t matter if you just want to be told how handsome you look in your new suit, or if you want to be comforted after being let down one too many times. Finding the right time to be silent is also an art, Gaz has mastered it. It comes natural to him, speaking to his loved ones, that is. If he can, he’ll accompany his sweet words with other love languages as well. It’s not uncommon for him to shower you with compliments while twirling you around, giving you a beautiful bracelet, or simply putting his head on your shoulder. This man will hype you up, no matter how insecure you feel. But don’t ever doubt his words, he’s as sincere as it gets with you. If you do then he will make an entire PowerPoint presentation on why you’re as amazing as you are. Has no qualms about holding said presentation either, by the way.

Ghost: Acts of Service. Don’t get me wrong, he loves touching you and getting to touch you, if he could he’d always intertwine his fingers with yours, but he’s not always sure if he should touch you. Would it make you comfortable? Do you even like being touched right now? Sometimes he might be self-indulgent, but it’s not too often. However, performing just about any task for you, he knows that won’t upset you. The trees and hedges need to be cut? You don’t have time to go grocery shopping? Can’t beat this seemingly impossible video game boss? Yeah, he’s got your back. He’s not too shabby at most things in life. Ghost can notice and memorize things very quickly, he’s got enough experience in life to know what to do in most situations plus he loves you dearly, so he’d literally crawl his way to Eden and pick the fruits of the tree of knowledge if you demanded it. If you ask him to do something with you, though, then I can tell you he’s smitten. Loves grocery shopping with you, loves it if you hand him the wrench and hold the flashlight while he repairs something, loves feeding the strays outside your home with you. If you ask him to do something together then he gets the feeling of his affection for you being reciprocated, so never be ashamed to ask him for something. You could literally just ask him for a hug and his heart would soar in the heavens.

Soap: Physical Touch. He grew up with a loving mother who would smother him in hugs whenever she could. He didn’t particularly grow out of that either, he’ll still return any hug his mother gives him to this day. Having grown up in a very physically affectionate household, he took after his family and thus loves touching you in any way he can. Whether it’s ruffling your hair or putting your foreheads together, he just loves being close with his loved ones. Even his friends he’s very touchy feely with. It’s reassuring to him, feeling his loved ones, their warmth, hell, even feeling their pulse is nice. It’s not a given in his line of work, after all. Friend or lover, doesn’t matter, he’ll give you a hug, he’ll cuddle you, he’ll playfight with you. Has a very hard time toning it down and his heart breaks a bit every time someone asks him to not touch them as much, he genuinely can’t help it. When he’s lonely he becomes extra affectionate and isn’t afraid to ask you for some cuddles either, they’re very calming to him. If you return his affection, even if it’s awkward for the both of you, he becomes very happy, almost beaming with joy if you’re not a touchy person normally. Initiate a hug for once and he’ll never want to let you go again. But beware, his hugs are extremely tight. If it wasn’t as embarrassing, I’m sure he’d sleep cuddling something as well. However, it’s not the most manly thing to sleep with a plushie, so he settles for another pillow mostly. Will invite you to take a nap with him, though.

Alejandro: Physical Touch. He’s among the people of his culture who are more tactile. It’s a similar situation to Soap, he learned that from home. While he may not be as prone to being touchy with a friend, unless you’re very close, once you’re lovers he loves nothing more than having his hands on you. Not even in a dirty way, he’s more than content just having his hand on your shoulder too. Will give you massages, lots of kisses and will generally just pull you close to him. Might pick you up and spin you around from time to time as well. He’s a strong lad, so I can assure you, he will be able to pick you up. Not very fond of PDA for privacy reasons, but once you’re home alone, he’ll be all over you. Find a reason to touch him back and he’ll smother you. While he can respect you if you don’t like being touched, he will be sad a bit, but will find alternatives. He’s a very affectionate guy with the ones he loves. For what it’s worth, if you’re not a touchy person and can’t speak Spanish very well, you can say some nonsense and it’ll make him smile every time. Though, beware, he’s not above teaching you things such as “estoy caliente” either. It won’t lead to anything, but he will crack up whenever you say it to Rudy, with the latter being severely disappointed in Alejandro. You trying to speak or learn Spanish shows him that you’re trying to put in effort into learning his culture, which he can appreciate, naturally.

Rodolfo: Quality Time. Much like Ghost, he’ll love you forever if you give him hugs on the regular, maybe a peck on the cheek too if you’re together, but he won’t force anything. It’s ingrained in him that men really shouldn’t be weak, though, ironically, you can see him be just a tad bit softer with lads. A close second for his love language would be gift giving. He earns enough money to buy you something nice from time to time. But other than that, he doesn’t have too much time either, and what little time he does have he wants to spend with you. Sure, he can’t exactly make time for you during a mission, but regardless of how tired he might be, he will drag himself out of bed just to be with you five minutes longer. One activity he particularly enjoys the day after he came home from deployment would be simply taking a nap together. Doesn’t matter if you’re cuddling or not, though he would prefer if you would. He gets to rest, you get to rest, both of you are happy. Besides, whenever he gets to be near you he won’t have to worry about anything happening to you. Considering he’s confident enough in his abilities to keep bad people away from you, he likes having you close as well. You don’t even need to be talking, it could just be the both of you cooking together and eating afterwards, that’s enough to make him content. He can tell when you’re doing your best to make time for him as well, and it warms his heart every time.

Valeria: Gift Giving. She’s the undoubted queen of not having much time for anything at all, and she can’t always make time for you, or most people, either, which is why she’ll opt for other means of showing her affection. While some gifts may take time, those being the special ones, it’s normally something quick she can get you. Some new clothes, some sweets, or something else entirely. She rarely ever gets to give them to you in person, regardless of how badly she wants to see your beaming and surprised face, but she never forgets an important date, her memory is just good like that. Your anniversary, your birthday, your pet’s birthday, she has it all memorized and will get you a gift accordingly. You don’t have to give her anything in return, though, her tastes are very expensive. If you really wanna show her how much you adore her in a way she can easily comprehend, do her some favors. Clean the house, make her a meal, give the soldiers asking for her some misdirections so they won’t catch her. It’s not often she likes someone, much less actually trusting them, but she can appreciate someone, who genuinely wants to help her out, even in the small ways. She might sometimes think that you’re just trying to get a favor out of her, but if you genuinely never ask for anything big even she will doubt her theory and will trust you more. Love goes through the stomach, cook her a delicious meal every once in a while and she’ll love you even more.

Graves: Words of Affirmation. However, it should be noted that that’s just his main way of showing affection, he shows affection in every other way as well, very much so even. It’s hard to pin him down as well, he changes it up every once in a while. But what always stays the same is him giving you small compliments throughout the day. If he can’t tell you how much you’re rocking the garments in person, he’ll leave you a handwritten note to build you up. Very chatty, unlike Gaz, he loves hearing himself speak and will stop at nothing to attain the feeling of just saying something. Considering he’s from the southern part of the United States, he throws around petnames like it’s nothing. If you like it, good, if you don’t, he won’t particularly stop either. In fact, he might get more cheesy and cliche with them as well. Not as eloquent as other people might be, he’s a commander, not a poet, but just as sincere. You look fucking awesome, darlin’. They should make a Met Gala just for you. Will also tease you in a loving way. Bullying his loved ones into blushing is his most genuine way of showing love. Once he teases you, you can be certain this guy really likes you. The formalities are finally over, now he can be genuine and honest with you. Give him strong reactions and he’ll love you even more. Don’t try to fluster him back, though. Conversations like those are competitions and he’s the most sore loser on the planet.

Alex: Physical Touch. Words of Affirmation and Acts of Service are also strong with this one, but I’m limiting myself to one here. As I’ve said a few times already, he loves, loves, loves getting to hug and cuddle you. If you’re together then he has no shame in showing PDA either. Will initiate physical touch, will ask you for physical touch, he’s not ashamed at all. A guy needs what he needs, after all. Even just small touches are more than welcome with him. Hand on your shoulder, his fingers combing through your hair, deliberately leaning against you when he’s tired. Snuggle up to him after a rough day, he’s so gentle with you and will make you feel as loved as he can, either by distracting you with the top ten list of top ten lists of what he loves about you, or by watching a VOD on YouTube with you. Even if you aren’t too touchy, make an effort to initiate physical contact with him, he notices it immediately. Won’t push you, he might stop if you really hate physical contact, but will make it up to you with other love languages. Give him a kiss and he’ll rest his head on your shoulder, with eyes bigger than that of an anime girl. The heart irises are there too, of course. If he’s had a rough day, then please hug him, or better yet, cuddle him. It makes him feel a lot better, drifting off to sleep with your comforting touch. This guy would set a forest ablaze just so you can feel some warmth.

Farah: Quality Time. Unless you’re part of her liberation force, she likely has next to no time for you either. And even then, time alone with her is sparse. You can make plans with her, but chances are she’ll have the revolution on her mind, what her next step should be and how her enemy might prevent her from getting what she wants this time. It’s hard for her too, trust me, but she needs to be prepared, always. It’s not often she actually can do so, but she’ll try to make plans with you without her mind wandering. She’s usually so focused, but also hyper aware of the bad things that could happen. So, sometimes she sits herself down with you and thinks of only the things she wants to do with you. Order takeout, cuddle and maybe read some books as well. Despite not usually being one for things like that, evenings like those will be the only times she’ll try to take better care of herself. By which I mean, if you have a skincare routine, she’ll try it out with you, asking you questions about what this and that might be and what it does. If you have a face mask that evening, she’ll laugh a bit, but won’t be opposed to trying it out either. It’s rather sudden when she does have time, but it’s time well spent. Show her affection in any way, she’ll always appreciate it. Give her a kiss, tell her how much you love her, buy her some fresh baked goods, she’ll fall in love with you all over again, again and again. Once the fighting is done, she’ll repay you with everything she can, give you whatever it is she has to offer and make sure you can feel just as loved.

Laswell: Gift Giving. She’s not particularly one for physical affection, she much rather shows it through things that reminded her of you. That nail polish looked like it would go well with your new outfit, you’ve been eyeing that necklace for a long time, using a scooter to get around the city was something you’ve been into for a while. She always remembers every single small detail that might be important later on. You like Sanrio. You like motorcycles. You like sports. Because her memory is amazing, she’ll always get you something you’ll like. Even when you forgot something or haven’t thought about it in a while, she’ll remind you. Especially nice things. Brains are always biased towards the bad, she wants you to see the good in yourself and your surroundings. But aside from those two things, she’s rather versatile as well. Her words can make even your biggest insecurities temporarily go away. She isn’t always eloquent, but she can be if she wants to be. Quality Time is a given to her. If she can and you want to as well, she’ll spend every minute of her wake with you. Even when you aren’t around to do any of it and she has time to do so, the dishes will be washed, the clothes in the washing machine will be neatly hung up and the living room will be clean. Now, if you want to make her feel loved, give her some genuine words. She hears lies on the daily and knows when people are being insincere, but seeing you give her a genuine smile while telling her that she looks like a goddess in her new dress sort of does something to her. You don’t need to use the prettiest words, just say what you think, tell her how much you love her, that’s all she really needs.

Nikolai: Acts of Service. Another wildcard, he’ll do whatever makes his partner happy. But if we’re talking about his genuine self, the one that doesn’t do whatever makes you happy, then it’s Acts of Service. It’s unprompted too, for the most part. Whatever he can find out, that makes your life easier, he’ll do. He’s a real handyman for all sorts of things and in real good shape too despite his age. Mans can repair a helicopter, he can do the same for your heater in winter. Never be afraid to walk up to him and complain to him about something not working, he’ll fix it himself in record time if you let him. Doesn’t mind his hands getting dirty either, that’s just what happens. Big things, small things, doesn’t matter. Let him take out the trash or let him fix the engine of your car, he can do both. Hell, if you need someone taken care of in the most brutal way possible, if you need some dirt on someone, he’s also your guy. If he really likes you, then chances are he’ll do some of it for free as well. He’s competent enough in just about everything, he has the experience, so whatever it is you need done, he’ll do it. But if you ever were to do him a favor like that as well, he’ll be overjoyed. Most of the time showing affection is subconscious to him, but once it clicks, and it will fairly quickly since he’s a smart cookie, he’ll give you the most loving smile. You don’t have to kill someone for him, just baking him a delicious pie is more than enough. You make his life easier as it is, but the occasional baked good or gifting him a nice bomber jacket won’t hurt either.

König: Acts of Service. I guess Acts of Service just come with age. Not too big on showing physical affection, not the best with his words either since he can still get nervous around his loved ones from time to time. Another big contender would simply be Quality Time. He much prefers not having to talk all the time, so you knitting while he reads the news would be ideal for him. Being near each other in silence is the best thing he can imagine, that way he can show you how much he loves you without straining himself too much. Acts of Service because he’s old enough to realize that if you really do love someone, you’ll make their life easier in any way, shape or form possible, even if it’s just putting chicken nuggets in the oven just before they come home from work. Besides, despite it being tedious, he doesn’t hate cleaning as much as some other people do. It’s calming to him, seeing his living space be decluttered. So, it helps him and it gives you less work to do at the end of the day. Another way he shows affection is by warding off creeps with his presence. Being around you makes him protective over you. Now, you can spend your time with him in silence, or just occasionally talk, he’ll eat that right up and love it, but you can also give him the occasional hug or cuddle. He won’t mind, but don’t overdo it. He’s not a particularly cuddly person, but he will appreciate you standing on boxes just so he can lean into your shoulder for once, if you’re shorter than him. It’s the small things that count. Another thing he’ll always enjoy is you maybe knitting or crocheting him a scarf. He’s not sensitive to the cold, but he won’t mind being warm either. Spray it with your perfume or cologne too and he could just pick you up and give you a little kiss.

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artificial-transmutations · 9 months

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Anger Issues

When Owen first came to this new city, in this new and foreign country, he was full of hope. A fresh start in an unfamiliar land. It was an adventure! The world was his oyster, and the possibilities were endless! He had just finished university and had a degree in art history, which should make it easy for him to find work.

As it turns out, that was a lie.

For three long, grueling months, Owen tried everything to make a living in the big city. The truth was that his degree often wasn't recognized, and even when it was, he wasn't considered qualified to do the job, often without any obvious reason. The financial reserves he had were draining quickly and his hopes of finding good and fulfilling work in the new city were getting smaller and smaller every day.

"You need experience to get a job, and you can't get a job without experience". Owen never realized how true this saying was until he had stumbled into that very situation. Desperate to get out of it, he finally found an unpaid internship in a museum for ancient art. It was a really interesting field for Owen, but it turned out his tasks were mundane and not related to the exhibits at all. Instead, he was confined to a small office room to scan and sort invoices - a tedious job and hardly what Owen had studied for.

So, one day, in his break, when he went through the exhibition as usual, a wooden figure caught his eye that was apparently brought here this morning. It depicted the torso of a man, showing a sculpted chest. The figure was cut off below the upper arms and above the legs. The face of the man was symmetrical and angelic, although frowning. Above the hair, it showed either a thick halo or some kind of hat.

Owen was inexplicably drawn towards the figure. It was well-preserved and Owen couldn't quite assign it a region or time period. Looking at the sign, Owen realized it had no information about this either. Clearly a curiosity!

Driven by his own desire for knowledge, Owen stepped closer, hoping to get a more detailed look. It was as if a faint whisper was coming from the grim statue, but that must have been his imagination. He reached out with his hand to touch the wooden surface, only to hesitate again. It was, of course, forbidden to touch the exhibits, but perhaps feeling the structure of the wood would help him understand the piece more.

As soon as he touched the surface, the whispers grew louder all of a sudden, and his fingers felt a slight jolt - but both sensations stopped immediately again.

Someone behind him was clearing his throat.

"Ahem. Owen. Do I need to remind you not to touch the exhibit?", Mr. Hastings, the director of the museum, said, looking sternly at Owen.

"Oh, no, Sir, I just thought... it might give me some better understanding..."

"Rules are rules." Mr. Hastings said, but he was smiling again.

Owen however felt a most unusual feeling bubbling up in him. At first, he didn't quite know where to put it, but it soon became very clear to him. He was angry! The rational part of his mind tried to understand why - there was no real reason. Mr. Hastings was right of course and judging by his smile, Owen really didn't have a problem. Regardless, he felt as if he had just been insulted the worst possible way. Before he could stop himself, he burst out:

"Do you know where you can put your precious rules? Fuck them! Fuck you! Fuck this whole place! You don't want me to do real work here?! Fine! I quit!"

Head steaming, Owen removed his museum badge from his jacket and threw it to the ground with such force that the plastic shattered. With another loud "Fuck you!", he ran off, leaving the befuddled Mr. Hastings behind, as well as the museum.

Only after he had walked a few blocks, Owens anger subsided somewhat. What has he been thinking? He should turn around and apologize at once!

Then again, it was an unpaid internship. Even though the way to quit this job hasn't been too professional, what was done was done - and perhaps for the better, too. He could focus on finding a better job now. There surely had to be something.

There wasn't. Owen had no better luck then before, but inexplicably, his tolerance for frustration had diminished. After the third denied application, Owen had become so angry that he actually punched a hole into the thin walls of his apartment. Alongside the anger, there had been some changes to Owen's body, as well: He seemed overall fitter and filled out his clothes better. He also found his libido increased somewhat. Where before he had jerked off perhaps once a week, he found himself hard now more and more often, and his hand was drawn to his cock even more.

Jerking off helped to cool the red hot anger somewhat that he found himself quite often in, so it was quickly becoming a daily thing. However, being constantly torn between being angry and being horny didn't leave much space for patience. His money was running dry, too, so, Owen finally accepted a job in a field that was far below his academic standards: He started a job as a fast-food cashier.

The red "FST" uniform, as the fast food chain was called, was tight on Owen's chest, when he started his first work day. They had probably given him a smaller size, even though they said it was XL. Owen was already feeling angry about that obvious mistake, but he swallowed his anger and let himself be introduced to the cash register.

The system was overwhelmingly complex. It had like a hundred different buttons, and Owen quickly felt his head swimming. It shouldn't be so hard to understand a fast food cash register, but apparently, this one was extra complex. Just his luck!

At some point, he just nodded as the manager showed him the functions of the device. The introduction wasn't very long, only ten minutes, but Owen didn't understand a thing. You really needed a degree for that monstrosity! Still, he was expected to serve his first customer right away, pure insanity.

The first order was easy enough, a plain hamburger and a coke, and after searching the right buttons for a good two minutes, Owen managed to put in the order. However, the second customer wanted a milkshake, too, and that was the final straw. They really couldn't expect Owen to juggle such complex orders in his mind AND put them into the machine. Angrily, he shouted out in frustration and let his fist come down on the cash register with full force, again and again. Of course, the thin metal and plastic yielded to his rage and the machine broke.

"FUCK THIS FUCKING JOB!"

This was the breaking point for Owen. Everything had gone wrong since he had moved to this fucking city. No job, no money, no nothing! He tried to wriggle out of the way-too-small uniform top but ended up ripping it apart instead.

The manager ran over and pulled him from behind.

"Stop that! Stop that right now!"

"LET ME GO! I QUIT!"

"You're going nowhere! You can't leave after what you've done!"

With an angry roar, the now half-naked Owen shoved the manager against the counter with full force and stormed off. He didn't care if the manager wanted to call the police, or sue him, or whatever.

As soon as he arrived at his shabby apartment, Owen took out his laptop and started looking for jobs. He didn't get very far, though. The computer was confusing, and Owen was still feeling angry from his last job. He finally managed to pull up his favorite porn site and started watching videos.

The normal porn he usually consumed didn't do a good job of calming him down today. He needed something rougher, something more primal. The female porn stars were too weak for the sex to be stimulating, he decided.

After clicking through a few more videos, he spied a thumbnail of two guys getting at it roughly. Brilliant. When there were only men involved, the sex would be much better. They wouldn't take shit from the girls, and they'd be strong. Much more satisfying.

Seeing two men having sex brought back his cock to full erection and soon enough, Owen splattered his cum all over his muscular torso.

As the post-nut-clarity set in, Owen realized he had a problem. He needed something to channel all that rage into before it destroyed his life entirely. After some research, he decided to join a Krav Maga club.

The raw brutality of the sport helped Owen to tune off the complicated world around him and made him feel happy for the first time in weeks. He trained often and hard, quickly stacking even more muscles on his already impressive frame. Of course, Owen wasn't clever enough to grasp the techniques of the sport, so he just substituted it by raw strength. A lot of kicks and hits found their way into his face, but he was healing quickly as well. Over the course of a few weeks however, the brutality left its marks in his face. His nose looked crooked as if it had been broken and his jaw looked manly, but not exactly beautiful.

Still, joining the club was the best decision he could have made. He met some new friends, who set him up with a new job as a warehouse worker. Carrying crates and heavy barrels from one place to another was the perfect job for Owen. He didn't need to understand what he was moving, nor did he have to do any paperwork (not that he would have been able to - Owen had his trouble with letters and numbers, which left him pretty much illiterate). He just needed to do what his manager said, and he was happy for it.

Besides the Krav Maga, he found another outlet for his anger issues. Since he couldn't afford his flat anymore, Owen moved in with a couple of garbage workers he met at the warehouse. As it turned out, they, too, were gay and enjoyed it quite a lot when Owen split their cheeks roughly, not holding back one bit.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #straight to gay

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