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#this would be one of the props I'd want to keep when the series ends
rinbowaman · 9 months
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"Turn Around..."
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One shot fic. (Not relating to any of the established series.) This is a bit different from what I normally draft up, kind of like the Robin Hood one shot, which is also a non-yandere fic like this one. Pls enjoy.
Thank you for taking the time and reading my stories and drabbles. To show your support, please consider donating into my ko-fi account ♥️
Warnings: Unprotected smut, breakup, lovers reunited, makeup sex, rough sex, a little bit of angst, taken for granted, apologetic make lead, regretful male lead, and drama. "Dont know what you got till it's gone" type vibe. not proofread but figured i'd get this out to keep yall busy until i get the next chapter of TO out 😉
Summary: You and Heeseung had a break up, despite all that has happened, you find out that you weren't the only one hurting.
“Hey.” he stands calmly at the door. You avoid making eye contact, too nervous and shy on what to say. A bit of a ridiculous notion considering you knew the man very well, dated for quite some time in fact, yet the lack of his efforts drove you to the point where you had to kill off the relationship, for our own happiness. The only issue was, that you’re not sure if you’re any happier now than you were when dating him. Nodding, you respond back with a soft “hey…” 
Walking in, his initiative causes you to walk back. He lets himself in and gently shuts the door behind, never breaking his sight away from you. You kept shifting your sight from one area on the floor, to another. He continues to take his steps forward, and you keep taking them back. Soon, he has you pinned against the wall. Palming the wall, one hand off to each side, he traps you in his arms and leans in, wanting to get closer. You dip down and swoop under his arm to get away freely into the open space, walking over to the living room, much to his grimace dismay. 
Sitting on one end of the couch, you cross your legs and prop your hands up to rest your chin. Intent on avoiding eye contact, you look away and kept your face in the opposite direction. He walks over calmly and sits next to you. 
“Y/n….”
“Heeseung stop. Could you please just get your things and go? I’m not in the mood to talk.” you snap, rubbing your temples as you adjust your body to shift up and away, standing before the tall window, waiting for him to move along and to get out. But he doesn't. 
Looking up from where you were just sitting, he remains on the couch wide eyed and slightly appalled. Sure, he went along with the break up, even dabbled and went on some dates even though you both had just broken up merely two weeks ago. However, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t hurting either. He only went and saw other girls just to try and take his mind off of you, but how are you supposed to know? He left you no choice, you didn’t ever see your relationship coming to an end. You worked and tried to get through to him, but he never listened, so then you were left with no choice but to break things off, yet you couldn’t help but feel stabbed when his nonchalant attitude and response to your initiation was given, almost too easily, as if he was thinking about breaking up himself. 
Seeing you standing in that silk camisole dress, lazily covered with the matching satin short robe over it, had him feeling some type of way. How long has it been since he saw you like this? No makeup, hair laying freely and barely dressed. You looked so beautiful, stunning in fact, and yet your body language and attitude made you achievable for him to grab hold on. Did he really lose you for good?
“Y/N…” he tries once more, keeping a respectable distance away, so as to not add any fuel to the fire. “Can’t we just talk?”
That did it for you. NOW, he wants to talk? Now? After seeing a handful of girls, pretending like you no longer mattered after you presented him with the words “I’m not sure if this is working out…I wished you would just be more considerate, yet you just always put me off to the side. Maybe we should consider a brea–” 
Remember the tone he had in his voice, he cut you off and finished your sentence, almost as if he was eager and looking forward to the word…as if he was taking your initiation as an opportunity to end everything without having to do the dirty work himself. “Break? Yeah sure, I think that would be good for us.” he told you. Never once trying to figure out the meaning behind your initiative, nor did he ever try to fight for you. But now, it seems he had a change of heart, but you weren’t wanting to hear any of it. Not after having a string of girls by his side the last few nights. What were you? A rebound? Were you just a safety net since it didn’t work out with those girls? What is this? 
Turning away, you snapped in a harsh tone. “No!”
“What?” His voice was a little more firm, and he seemed a bit irritated by your attitude. 
“I said no. I don't want to talk.” 
“Why are you–” he pauses. “Y/n…you act like you’re the only one that is affected by all this. You’re not. I’m struggling too, you know.” 
“Yeah, I can tell. You’re hurting so much, how many girls did you seek out for comfort? Five? We’ve only broken up two weeks ago and you never once wanted to talk, until now.” 
Standing from his seat, he grew offended by your words and replaced his soft and gentle gaze with a more stern and harsh one. Walking over to you, he nearly traps you in as he breaches your personal space and begins to walk you back to the wall, again. 
“What? You think those girls meant something? Seriously?”
“Are you kidding me? Don’t pretend you’re hurting, you nearly jumped for joy when I brought up the idea of taking a break. You think I don’t know? Get over yourself Heeseung!” Turning sharply, you try to get away from him, but his movements are quick and he restricts your fleeing attempts by hugging you from behind. You struggle and try to break free, yet the moment he pushes forward with you grasped in his arms, shoving you up against the wall chest first and his chin resting on your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, you begin to falter, but mentally maintain your resistance. Taming you, he senses your physical strength decreasing front he struggles, and continues to push you in, resting you on the flat surface as he closes the distance between your backside and his chest. Stroking his thumb, he caresses your waist as he hugs tightly. With small brush strokes of his lip, he softly pecks on the soft area of your neckline. 
“Stop…” You whimper out, trying to ignore the beautiful sensation of how his lips felt gently kissing, and sucking on your skin. “Stop…please….get away…”
“You really want me to get away?” he mumbles, with a mouth full of your delicate skin in his mouth. “Then say it. Tell me in all sincerity that you want me to stop and I’ll leave.” 
With your arms pinned to your body by his embrace, you reach up and lean your palms against the wall, pressing your body against his. You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder, you didn’t want him to stop, nor did you want him to leave. But you had to be strong, for the sake of mending your broken heart. So, with a shaky breath, you whined out. 
“Get away…” you nearly whispered, your hair draping over your face and your robe coming undone, bearing the nakedness of your shoulders and cleavage. “Just…get away…”
A slight pause was present, before he leans in and resumes his efforts as he takes in a mouthful of your soft skin, just below your ear, this time he was less gentle and more rough in his manners. 
“I said no….” you whimpered. His arms tightened around your arms and waist, and he slightly lifts you before shoving you further up against the wall, pressing your cheek to rest against the surface before whispering in your ear…
“I don't believe you.” 
Shooting his hand around, he lifts the hem of your camisole up and fingers his way through panties. He called you out on your bluff and you didn’t seem to mind, because now you get to show how much you missed him, that you didn’t want to leave. You get to show him that you were hurting, and that he left you without any options or hope to continue forward, that you were just at the lowest part of your life. He knew it too. He wasn’t being his best self with you, in fact he was selfish and led you with so many false promises, it’s no wonder you proposed a break up. It didn’t hit him until you started to usher out those words, but before you could finish, he beat you to the punch, all because he saved himself from the heartbreak of hearing you say it, so he had to say it first. Figuring he would save himself by hurting you, then to be hurt directly, he found that it was all for nothing. Right after walking away and leaving you to go on your own, a sharp pain hits him inside, and he immediately regrets it. He regretted going with the flow, and letting you go so easily. Fact is, he turned around, wanting to run back after you, but seeing your backside facing him, walking in the opposite direction without so much as a glance back over to him, compelled him to look the other way and to move forward, after all, it seemed you had no trouble doing just that. 
Taking your hand, he intertwined his fingers with your own, his kisses became more passionate and his embrace became tighter as his hands roamed. God he missed you. He missed how your body felt against his, and how your skin tasted. He missed how you sounded when he kissed that one little spot on your neck, and how your body shakes when he touches you. He missed you too much. 
“Tell me you don’t want me to leave this time….tell me we belong…tell me…so I can do what I’ve really been wanting to do for the last two weeks…with the one woman I’ve been wanting. Tell me baby…”
Softly sobbing, you whimpered and gasped out, immediately trying to catch your breath as you cried out your words. 
“I never wanted it to end in the first place…” 
Peeling his head back, he stood slightly shocked at your words. Before he could ask questions, you finally let it all out. It was long overdue, and the most painful sense of release you ever felt. 
“Why couldn’t you just have turned around?....I stood…watching you walk away. I mentally begged for you to turn around and come back…but you just kept moving on…you left me crying….and I just had no choice but to finally do the same….you didn’t come back. What was I supposed to do? Stand and wait in that spot forever? And those girls?....I just knew…you didn’t care….” 
Your words hit deep and cut a wound that may never heal. He had no idea that you waited. He did turn back but he was too late…probably by mere seconds. The image he recalls of you walking away, was imagined with you displaying a calm and tranquil look on your face. Now, he understands that you made your way back home in tears that night, and longed for him to come back to you. 
He gulps. In a single brief moment, your entire relationship flashes before his eyes, and he realizes that not only did he not give you his best during, but he didn’t give it to you after. Yeah, he tried to get his mind off you by going on dates, but how were you supposed to know that? He started to think how his behavior must have looked to you…how hurtful it must have been to hear about his rendezvous while you were sitting here longing for him to come back. But what killed him in all of this was that, had he just been less attentive towards his friends and set his priorities straight, none of this would have happened. How many times did he come home and skip eating the dinner you prepared, all because he decided to eat with the guys after work. Or whenever you asked to spend time with him, and he promised you he would have another day, one where he didn’t have plans, yet that day never came. How many times did he wake up, shower, and quickly breezed through the kitchen and sees that you prepared breakfast for him, yet instead of sitting and eating with you, thanking you for taking the time to feed him, he picks bits and pieces off his plate and heads out while jutting out the words “see ya!” and quickly leaves so he could be the first in line at the coffee shop…that coffee shop…the coffee shop you loved yet he never took you with. He knew your favorite order yet never brought you back anything. He was always so focused in grabbing his drink and heading to work, where he could spend nearly the entire day chilling out with the guys doing what they love, spending a great deal of overtime, before finally calling it a night. How many times did he have the opportunity to come back home, especially after seeing all his friends dipping out to go back to their loved ones that were waiting for them…and yet he stayed back, opting to hit up buddies who were single and could spare the time, instead of coming back home to you. How many times did he come back home so late at night, finding you already asleep. How many times did he crawl into bed with you, and instead of hugging you and kissing you, he turns the opposite direction and falls asleep, leaving you to not only feel lonesome during the day when you’re awake, but at night when you’re asleep too. Just how many times…did he take you for granted? 
He didn’t have any words. He felt hurt…he felt a great deal of pain, and it was nothing that you did, you were great…you were perfect in fact. The one that hurt him was himself.
Remaining silent, he leans back into your neck. Shoving his lips against your ear, feeling the shrug of your shoulders as the oversensitive sensation of feeling his lips pressed against you was immense and triggered potent arousal. Whispering, he merely tells you “I’m sorry…” 
His soft whisper made you cry even more. Feeling you shake as you sobbed harder, he holds on tightly and kisses you on that soft spot again…and again….and again. Until your sobs turned into moans. Sucking on your neck, he reaches up and grabs onto your throat, gently but firmly holding on as he pulls your hips back. His free arm hugs your waist and tugs onto you, while his grab around your neck keeps your face and chest close to the wall. Pressing his groin against your derriere, he takes in a large whiff of your scent, that subtly sweet perfume that he liked so much…he missed it. The one thing he grew complacent in taking in daily, yet the moment he thought he lost it forever, he realized it was the most beloved scent produced in this world. The feel of your touch, your skin, hair, and your soft lips, was something he didn’t realize how much he loved. It had been longer than two weeks since he last felt you, growing too comfortable and spending more time away from you throughout the course of your relationship, it had been a while since you both were last intimate. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or cared, he just didn't have his priorities straight. He just always thought that no matter what, you were always going to be around for whenever he needed or wanted you. But when was that? When did he express how much he needed or wanted you? When did he last make you feel appreciated and desired? More importantly, when was the last time he made himself available to you? Knowing that you wanted and needed him, yet he never was there for you. 
“God…I’m such a fucking idiot…” he hums out with a mouthful of your skin sucked in to his mouth. Lifting you once more, he flings you over and softly lands you on the couch, laying atop your backside as you rest on your stomach and chest. “He–Heeseung…”
“Why was I so fucking blind…” his words gasped out in a near whisper, it was gentle and calm, yet the manner of his physical touch was the exact opposite. Nearly ripping off your dress, the straps snap loose as he roughly pulls it down, and tears your panties off. Hanging by the bits of thread and pieces of fabric, it loosely hangs on your thigh while he smooths his hands over the softness of your smooth skin, grabbing onto your cheeks firmly as he squeezes your derriere. 
“Why did I not see what was in front of me?” Leaning forward, he places his lips on your back shoulder, and sucks on various regions. Firmly holding onto your waist, he fishes out his stiff member and rides it in between your cheeks, squeezing it to nestle in between as he strokes it up and down. “How could I not see that I had the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” Taking a hold on the back of your neck, he slowly feeds himself inside your cavity, pressing in. You weren’t entirely ready, and the lack of prepping made it hard for you to take him in, not to mention it had been so long. Yet his eager desire to have you made him impatient, he needed you now…he wanted you…he wanted to please himself but also, to please his queen. 
“Why did I not show you just how much you mean to me….why didn’t i do it sooner?” Thrusting in hard, his groin smacks against the soft plumpness of your cheeks, you screamed out as he rams himself in, reaching the depths of your gut as he pushes through all of your stagnant walls. Fully in, he pauses before continuing. He had to take a moment to enjoy the feeling of burying his cock deep inside you….after missing out for so long. 
“Why wasn’t I better for you?” Sliding out, his tip breaches its exit, providing you with some relief as you catch your breath, only for him to shove it back in with fierce momentum. “He–Heeseung!” Gripping onto the sofa cushion, you brace through the pressure of pain and pleasure as he roughs up your womanhood. He was being so demanding with the way he was thrusting, yet his words were so beautifully spoken with genuine sincerity and sympathy. He truly was sorry, and now, he wanted to show it, even if it meant he had to mix his love with fucking you into pieces. 
“Why didn’t I tell you how I’ve felt all this time?” Thrusting, he jolts forward and bucks his hips, causing your body to rumble and shoot forward, only to be retracted back as he pulls you in, all to repeat his performance in jutting his cock back into you deeply, shiting your body forward. 
“Why wasn’t I home often?” Thrusting and pumping his cock fiercely, you felt the sting of his thickness tearing you open. It had been too long, your body nearly forgot what it felt like to have someone, much less him, pelting you with their girth. Even though you were devotedly waiting for him, and yearned for him, he left you empty and unfulfilled so many nights, and you spent each evening alone and drifting off into a dream where you weren’t sleeping lonesomely on an empty bed. Now, he was here, and for the first time in so long, he was not only making love, but he was fucking you like his life depended on it. He didn’t want to take it easy, or slow, he wanted to go in deep and hard. He wanted his performance to match the ferocity of his love and yearning for you. 
“Why did I let you sleep alone all those nights? I should have been there to kiss you to sleep.” Deepening his thrust, the curved edge of his lengthy member hits your sweet spot. Soon, there was no pain, only the pressure of pleasure and ecstasy. 
“I should have touched you more.” increasing speed, he forces the moisture of your secreted fluids to squelch in and out. Your body gushes out, you could feel yourself releasing the warm liquid your body was producing, seeping out, and glazing his cock as he continues to fuck you. 
“I should have loved you harder.” Grabbing onto both sides of your waist, he pumps his cock in and out, faster and faster as he holds you steady. 
“I should have been better. I should have been so much better.” Slapping into you, his groin and thighs stains your skin red as he continues to slam himself in, going deeper and deeper. 
“I should have….fuck….baby you feel so good…I should have…I should have….” 
“Heeseung!! Ugh!” He continues with his pace as you reach behind and smack your hands over his, digging your fingers onto his wrists as you feel the snap in your gut release the high of your orgasm. 
“Fuck baby….you’re making me cum…..” 
Your body shakes uncontrollably and you scream out his name, which transitions into tiresome whimpers as you catch your breath. All the while he slows down, going in deep and slow, passionately slow. Admiring the view of his length smoothing in and out of your womanhood, he savors the feeling of releasing every bit of love, anger, sadness, and regret into you. Still thrusting, his thumbs stroke your skin and he bids you to answer. 
“Tell me you missed me…”
“....I missed you…” 
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you…”
“Tell me you need me.”
“I need you.”
“Now tell me you love me….”
“....I love you….”
Leaning in, he rests his weight on top of you as he tenderly kisses your cheek. His cock remains buried in, and goes in deeper as he propels forward and lays atop your body. “Then turn around…and don’t let me go. I’ll do the same.” 
Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 
☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow
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chaotic-mystery · 4 months
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Code Red | Chapter Seven: I Love Older Men
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pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak)
summary: Your big date with Joel is finally here and you end the night on a good note, or a good feeling perhaps.
content warnings: SMUT, 18+ only blog MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his 40s), slow burn, first date jitters, reader has hair Joel can brush from her face, no other descriptors, Joel puts reader on the dining table, finally getting some smut, eh? oral sex (f receiving bc he's a ladies man), orgasm denial until you agree with him, power imbalance, dirty talk, thigh smacking, biting, a few sips of beer but no one is buzzed, horny overload, cum eating if you use a monocle, pulling Joel's hair and riding his face/nose, slight PDA, a tiny easter egg if you find it, and one (1) sleepover. NO use of Y/N! Let me know if I've missed something!
authors note: Hi, I love you first off for keeping up with this and my life when it gets crazy and I dip for a little. Thank you for all the support on Code Red, it means the world to me. This can be read as a stand alone if you're unfamiliar with the series but it'll make more sense reading it in order || wc: 4K || notif blog so you don't miss a thing ||
“Why do you have to wear that shirt?” Joel asks as your front door swings open, his hand pushed against the door jam to prop him up. 
You giggle and look down at the bedazzled shirt that was tight enough to push your tits together nicely. It came as no surprise to you that Joel didn’t like the words printed on it and covered in rhinestones. ‘I Love Older Men’ twinkles in the sunlight as Joel swings open your front door, already taking your house key to lock the door behind you. 
“It’s not funny, you’re gonna draw attention to us.” He gripes, putting a hand on your hip behind you as you sit down. His attitude was already starting to get on your nerves but you refuse to let him ruin this, especially over a shirt. 
“Hey! Enough, it’s just a shirt. Is it really such a bad thing if people look at us?” You ask, dipping your head down to look at him. 
Joel meets your eyes and licks his lips while thinking about what to say. You cup his cheek and raise your eyebrows at him playfully. 
“No, I just-” He starts and you cover his mouth quickly to cut him off. Joel gets the hint and rolls his eyes at you before closing the door shut and getting in on his side of the truck. He starts the engine and puts his hand on the back of your headrest to back out of his driveway, open palm against the steering wheel turning it quickly. 
His cologne smells warm and spicy, with a tad of amber mixed in there which surprises you for someone like him, not seeming like he’d be into expensive cologne.  Absolutely captivating, the way he does everything so effortlessly and somehow makes you want to bury your face in his chest while he talks for hours and hours. Joel turns forward and starts the long drive ahead of you two. You were unsure where your date actually was, Joel wanted to keep it a surprise from the last time you spoke about it, which you didn’t mind in the slightest. 
Joel looks over a couple of times and leans his arm against the door while he steers the wheel. 
“You gonna stay over there the whole time or you wanna sit in the middle?” He asks, almost waiting for you to laugh and tell him no. You fight back a smirk and sigh dramatically before sliding over into the middle seat right next to him. 
“Better?”
“For now.” Joel responds and his tongue lingers over his bottom lip for a split second before disappearing into his mouth again. 
“Where are we going? Please don’t tell me you’re taking me to Home Depot…Joel are you taking us to Home Depot?” You half whine and look up at him with your hand resting on his knee. 
“Now why on earth would you think I'd take you there for our date? Give me a little more credit, would ya? Just sit back and enjoy the ride please?” His arm tightens around your shoulders and pulls you into him more. You giggle at his growing annoyance and put your sunglasses on as you rest your head back, looking out the window watching the telephone poles whiz by. 
One of the few times you ever felt this calm and relaxed was with Joel or when you’re alone. He makes it so easy to forget all of the stress and the issues constantly circling your brain about your dad, the future of not knowing, everything that bothers you. None of it ever seems that important when you’re with Joel. 
You two hum to the radio and talk here and there, mainly enjoying the comfortable silence you shared. He turns right and the sign for the aquarium starts to get closer. 
“You remembered the aquarium? Oh my god, Joel!” You exclaim and sit straight up to see the view better. Your excitement was too much for you to notice Joel taking glances at you with the biggest smile on your face. It was apparent to him you thought he forgot about the aquarium comment you made months ago. Little did you know he bought tickets as soon as you mentioned it that day. Even if you went just as the weird friend dynamic you briefly were, Joel still would’ve loved it no matter how much he would’ve pretended not to, no matter how much he wants to deny it.
He pulls into the parking lot and finds a parking spot a little far away from the doors but neither one of you mind. With your purse on your arm, you climb out of his truck and stand in front of it while you wait impatiently for him to get out. 
“You ready?” He asks, coming up right next to you. His finger hooks under your chin and brushes his thumb down softly as he gives you a smile. 
“Absolutely.” You respond back.
You two start towards the door, his arm brushing against you every time he gets close. Every time you feel his pinky touch your hand, you want to just reach out and hold his hand. Joel being the brooding older man, he’s not too big on PDA. You were the exact opposite. You wanted the whole entire town to know you were dating Joel Miller, you wanted to hold his hand while you wore your silly little shirt and have everyone stare at you both, like they could even begin to know the situation. 
When you get inside and turn in your tickets, Joel watches the glimmer in your eyes sparkle as you take in everything around you. The tanks full to the brim with fish and coral, touch tanks tucked back behind the glass and metal staircase leading upstairs, the glowing hallway leading to so much more, the gift shop you were definitely going to stop in before leaving. In awe at the artwork covering almost every inch of wallspace, you were mesmerized. Two children run in front of you and scream wildly as they chase each other, causing Joel to grab your hand instinctively and pull you out of the way before someone gets stepped on. 
You look down and his fingers interlock with yours and neither of you say a word or pull away. 
“Where to first, baby?”
-
Hours pass and your feet are starting to hurt but you’re having too much of a good time to admit to Joel he was right about your shoe choice being awful. It was absolutely worth the pain though, walking the entire aquarium to get the full experience. Joel didn’t complain once no matter how many times you got weird looks for your shirt. He’d walk up to the dolphin tank and put his on the glass, the same glimmer in your eye from when you arrived was the same one he had.  You two end up in front of the jellyfish tank  that went up to the ceiling with glass, blobs of pink and orange jellyfish floating up and down all over the tank. Joel takes a seat on the bench in front and leans his arms against his thighs as he watches closely. 
You sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, admiring the pink jellyfish at the very top that keeps sinking to the bottom just to go straight back up. 
“Did you have a fun time?” Joel asks.
You don’t answer right away to not seem eager. “Yeah, this was a lot of fun. Never a dull moment with you though.” You giggle quietly as you remember earlier when he made someone’s child cry because Joel apparently “took the stingray” the child was touching and it decided to swim to Joel’s hand you forced into the touch tank. You’ve never seen him move so fast until that moment.
Joel chuckles with you as he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. 
“I told you not to make me do it and you see what you did? You made someone's child cry, they’re never gonna come back here now.” Joel can’t finish his sentence because you both are laughing so hard and he leans his head on yours. 
There wasn’t that need to fill the silence with Joel. You could sit there with him for hours and not share a word and still be comfortable, that’s not something you come by everyday. 
“Well, you wanna stop in the gift shop before we go?” Joel questions as he picks his head up off yours. 
“Yeah! I wanna see what stupid thing I can convince you to buy me.” You jump up and step towards the tank a few times, turning around to look at Joel. 
He rises to his feet and walks towards you slowly, head cocked back slightly. The look he’s giving you makes your heart start to race and you can feel your cheeks getting warm with every step closer he gets to you. Somehow you managed to be the only two people in the jellyfish exhibit and you were thanking your lucky stars for this. 
“Convince me, huh? Convince me how, baby?” His mocking tone sets your body on fire and you suddenly can’t speak. 
Joel gets right in front of you and tucks his hand against your cheek, his long fingers brushing softly on the skin right below your ear. 
“You don’t have to convince me to do anything, sweetheart. I’d do anything you want.”  He kisses your lips gently.
“I’d buy you anything you want.” He kisses your jaw.
“I’d build you anything you want.” He kisses your neck softly. 
You would’ve fallen to your knees had he not pulled away and chuckled at you, seeing how pathetic he made you for him so fast. 
“Fuck off, Joel.” You try to play it off like you weren’t going to risk it all had he kept going. 
He takes your hand once more and walks with you to the gift shop, his hand hardly leaving your waist as you meander around the store.
Torn between the pack of pens with different aquatic animals on the top and a turtle shaped beanie, you asked Joel which one you should get. 
Joel turns around from the little container of pins he was looking at and takes a good glance at the options. 
“What about this?” He holds up the metal pin that has a starfish printed on the center, with big ugly yellow letters that say, ‘I’m a star!’. 
You blink once at him and turn back around to hide your laugh. 
“That’s so goddamn stupid, Joel. I’d hate to be called a starfish.” You put the hat back and just as you look up, you see it. The stupid thing you want Joel to get you. 
Yanking the clownfish plush off the shelf, you grin widely and turn back around to him and shake it in his face.
“This, this is it. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” You look back down at the stuffed animal, admiring all the details on it. Without missing a beat, Joel doesn’t look away from you and nods. “Yeah, it is.” 
-
On the drive home you stopped for food and ate in the parking lot while Joel gave you his typical old man history recap of all things Austin, Texas while you nodded like you were following the entire time. You caught most of it, but some stuff you were lost about and you didn’t have the heart to make him explain. Nodding and smiling usually did the trick.
Joel pulls into his driveway and stops right next to the little light pole on your side so you can see where you’re walking. Joel gets out after turning it off  and walks around the front of the truck to meet you halfway. With an arm stretched out towards you, he grabs it and holds it there for a moment. 
“Do you wanna maybe, um…see the new curtains I put up the other day?”
Your brows furrow and you can feel a laugh building up inside. 
“W-what? Are you inviting me in to look at your curtains?” You have to make sure you heard him correctly. This seems like Joel’s way of getting you inside but he won’t explicitly say it. He needs an innocent excuse to get you inside before he makes his move. 
He scratches the back of his head awkwardly and turns away causing his bicep to come into the light and grab your eyes. 
“Yeah, I am.” He refuses to elaborate or change his question to the truth, curtains is what he’s sticking with. 
“Well let’s go, Mr. Miller.” you reach up and pat his chest before heading towards his front door. 
“C’mon, you know I hate when you call me that.”
“I know, that’s why I love it.” 
He stands close enough behind you that you can feel his chest on your back while he unlocks the front door.
“Such a brat.”
The door swings wide open and you’re hit with the familiar smell that is Joel. The cologne with the faint scent of laundry detergent and somewhere a reed diffuser sitting neatly on a table. You take in all of the photos on the walls of him and Sarah, the home looking lived in and not empty. This is what you’ve been waiting on ever since you moved in. You wanted to see inside this house so badly. To see the room you’d constantly look down to when you couldn’t sleep and needed someone but he wasn’t awake. To see the room where you could hear every argument he had with Michelle over you. 
“Everything you thought it’d be in here?” Joel questions and walks from behind you to the stainless steel fridge in the next room over as you stand in the doorway of the living room. 
“It’s so cozy in here, I didn’t think it would be. Figured you’d have a lawn chair in here with a fold up table or something.” You joke and turn around with your arms crossed over your chest. 
Joel looks at you with a fake disappointed face and closes the fridge before grabbing the two beers off the counter he got out. 
“Don’t be a smartass, or I’ll have to fix that for you.” Joel states firmly, standing right next to you.”
With your breath caught in your throat, you take the beer from his hand hesitantly and think about whether or not you should say what you’re thinking. Fuck it though, right?
“Fix it how, Mr. Miller?” The playful tone in your voice makes Joel turn slowly towards you and sucks his teeth quickly before setting his beer down on the coffee table to the left of him. 
“What’d I say about calling me that. You just love to push my buttons don’t you? Gets you off knowing you’ve annoyed me for the day, huh?” 
You take another sip of your beer and smirk against the bottle. 
“Yeah, I do.” You answer confidently.
Joel’s strong arms wrap around you and tug you close against him which causes you both to grunt and he holds you there, his face inches away from yours. 
“And what if I told you every time you do that you make me wanna bend you over and have my way with you until you say you’re sorry?” 
There it is. 
You shutter a breath and meet his eyes which don’t seem so brown anymore. They’re dark with lust and it’s the one thing you’ve been wanting to see from him. 
“Doubt it, I don’t think you can break me.” 
Your lips ghost over his before they crash together and he groans in your mouth instantly as he picks you up for just a moment and walks you over to the dining room, setting you at the end of the table. You swing your legs as he steps back and admires how you look with the dim lighting around you. 
“You would want that, of course. Should’ve known you’re a dirty girl. Tell me how you want me, baby.” He leans in and holds the back of your neck as he trails kisses along your jaw and throat, trying to make you respond. 
The harsh but passionate kisses cloud your mind and you can’t answer fast enough. 
“Tell me pretty girl, tell me how I can make you feel so good and have you right where I want you.” 
God, you need him so badly. 
“I-I like it rough. Manhandle me but still make me feel wanted, like you can’t get enough of me.” 
Your answer coaxes out a groan from Joel and you can’t help but smirk. 
“Oh is that so? You want me to toss you around, maybe pin you down right here and give you that attitude adjustment I’ve been wanting to give you since I saw you on your dads porch?” Joel did one thing well, and it’s being condescending. 
He lays you down on the wooden table and pulls his hand out from the back of your neck and down the middle of your breasts slowly, all the way to the top of your pants. A scoff comes from his mouth and he tugs on the belt loop near your button. 
“‘I love older men’...so fuckin’ naughty. Have you ever been with one or are you just talkin’ a big game?” 
Joel undoes the button on your pants and wiggles his thick pointer finger inside the waistband of your panties, smoothing over your skin teasingly.
“N-no, I haven’t been with one yet.”
“Perfect. Now, take these off.” He yanks on your pants and stands still between your legs while you lift your hips up to shimmy them off. Halfway down your legs he grows impatient and shucks them off you, tossing them onto the floor. Joel kneels down and his face is dangerously close to your aching cunt. 
“Joel, please- I need you…I need you so damn bad.” You whine, grabbing at his hand that’s holding your waist. 
“You need me to what, baby? Use your words, I know you can do it.” He mocks. 
Colored embarrassed that he was wanting you to explicitly say you want him to eat your pussy was an understatement. You didn’t mind a challenge. 
“I want you to lick my pussy, Joel. I wanna feel your tongue on me and make me scream because you do it so well.” As soon as the words leave your lips, his tongue is licking at your wet panties. Tasting every bit of excitement he got from you until you whimper for him to do more. 
“You want me to show you what I can do, pretty girl?” 
Joel doesn’t wait for your answer and he grabs your hand, hooking your panties on your fingers to have you hold them to the side.
“Be a good girl and hold these for me, yeah?” 
You nod in response and close your eyes just in time for his warm tongue to flatten against your clit. His moans muffle against your folds as his hands grip your hips harder, pulling you close to his face as he laps at your soaking pussy. Quick and rough flicks from his tongue go against your clit and you can already feel your legs shake. Your back arches off the table and instantly your hand goes in his hair, gripping the salt and pepper little curls tightly. 
“Ohhh my-fucking god, Joellll!” You cry out and his right hand leaves your hip to the middle of your torso to pin you back down. 
“Stay still.” He commands and buries his face between your thighs, his beautiful nose bumping your 
clit. Your eyes begin to roll back into your skull and he groans louder the harder he licks at you, tasting every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he bites your thighs and follows with a soft slap to see how far he can push you. 
“Y-yes oh keep doing that, baby.” You whine and buck your hips to get more friction against his thumb. 
“So eager for me to make you come, darlin. God you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” Joel growls out and takes his thumb off you for a moment and your eyes shoot open to see where the release you were needing, had gone. He admires the glistening slick coating his skin and licks it clean before connecting his tongue with your clit once more. 
“Say yes and I’ll let you come, okay?” Joel groans between licks and looks you in the eyes. 
You sit up more to look at him with a confused look on your face. 
“Say yes to w-what?” 
“Come work for me at my shop. Be my receptionist so I can see you all the time. I can’t fucking be apart from you all day anymore.” His licks get more passionate and fast, consistent against your overworked clit and you feel the pressure starting to build in the pit of your stomach. 
“What? Y-you want me-fuccck-to work with you?” you barely whimper out as you begin to pant and grind against his face.
Why did he want to bring this up right now? Was he afraid you’d say no so he waited until he had you in the palm of his hand to ask? Jokes on him, you wouldn’t have turned that down at all, anything to see him more than you were now, and you’d be getting paid to fuck off all day with him?
“Say yes.” He grunts and keeps going, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm. 
Your eyes close and your head falls back, moaning with every lick and every move of your hips you make against him. 
“Yes yes yes yes yes okay I will.” You squeak out and you come on his face, riding his tongue as you end up spacing out from the euphoric high. Never has a man ever made your ears ring from coming, until tonight. 
Joel gives your pussy sensual kisses before he trails them up your stomach until he gets to your lips. You kiss him eagerly and taste yourself on his tongue, already wanting more. 
“So I’ll see you there, Monday morning at 10 a.m..” He chuckles and kisses you a few more times before standing straight up and admiring the work he did on you. 
All spread out on the dining room table wasn’t how you saw tonight ending, but you got so much from today. A great date and a job, and head? You were a winner today. 
He grabs your hand and helps you up slowly, adjusting your panties the way he found them. You smile at him and look around for your jeans, groaning at the thought of putting them back on. 
“Hold on, stay there.” Joel says and he disappears around the corner to another room. He comes back with a pair of basketball shorts and hands them to you. 
“Here, put these on, baby.”  
Fresh warm shorts from the dryer. What a fucking gentleman. You put them on and get a chill immediately from how warm they are. 
“Can we watch a movie before I go home maybe?” You ask, not ready to leave his house quite yet. Joel nods and sits on the couch and you follow suit, cuddling yourself into his side. He finds something to watch on a streaming service and kisses your forehead. 
“Don’t fall asleep now, I can’t carry you to your house.” He jokes and you elbow his side playfully. 
Soon the TV sound was getting quieter and quieter as your eyes got heavy, until you were completely passed out in Joel’s arms, with him dozing off himself. Trying to fight his sleep to stay awake, he only lasts about ten more minutes before he grabs a blanket from the chair, covering you both up to sleep. 
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heilos · 4 months
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Hello! My name is Moriah and I am a junior in high school. I was wondering if I might be able to get your insight on a few questions I have?
I am in my final years of high school and am starting to think about college but I have no idea what I want to pursue. I know I love art, so for a long time I have been thinking about getting an art major or going to an art school.
I’m reaching out because I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR ART and I think you are a very talented artist! I have been in love with your art for so long and I am curious and wondering how you are able to fit drawing into your life?
1.) If you went to college for art, what was it like? Do you think going to school for art or having an art major is worth it?
2.) how can I fit art into my everyday life? I’m sure you have work and other things to do in your life so how do you balance it out? (I just want to know how you can draw as much as you do!)
3.) do you do art as a full-time career or part-time career? is it an alright source of income? If it is a part-time career, how do you balance work, personal life, and art?
Thank you so much! And sorry if these questions might seem personal. I just want to know how other artist manage to draw and create their work and still have an adult life. Thanks again, and thank you for being a huge inspiration in my life to create the art I love! Your art means so much to me!❤️❤️ ❤️
Hi Moriah! Thank you so much for your patience since it took me a bit to answer this. I'll do my best to be as honest as possible. 1) I think going to college can be beneficial even if I wish i'd done things differently. In hindsight I would have definitely taken more time to really look through all available options instead of gunning straight for the most "prestigious" looking colleges since the idea of having a big name school on your resume was pretty prevalent when I was growing up. I went to Savannah College of Art and Design or SCAD for short and while I don't regret the friends I made there, I do regret not understanding just how much an institution like that ended up costing in loans compared to what I got out of it education wise. It always hurts my heart to see other kids get chained to huge amounts of student loan debt that could have been avoided. And even then you don't necessarily need a college degree for every type of art job. Your portfolio is what really matters more to prospective work places if you're looking at a career related to art. I would also keep in mind that the field is very competitive depending on what your goals are. Do you want to get into animation? game design? illustration? comics? prop design, character design or environment design? ect ect. Always try and give yourself the best advantage you can with researched knowledge of what you might be getting yourself into. Also there is no rush to go immediately into college even if you're dead set on wanting to attend one. Please give yourself as much time as you need to really make that decision and, if you have the option, don't feel pressured into thinking you HAVE to make that choice immediately out of high school. 2) I do get quite a bit of production art done on my days off mostly since I'm very experienced in working on group projects like Mystery Skulls Animated. When you're doing art and production work with other people, there's a different mindset in that others are relying on you to keep decently productive so that you're not holding up the pipeline if you're dedicated to seeing a project through to completion. Now when it comes to purely fun art on the side, I've actually only recently started balancing my time out better with work to sketch since the draw back of working on a group project like this for so long is a certain level of burn out. I had about a 2-3 year period where I couldn't get myself to draw much of anything even if I was excited about something like a new game or animated series and it's taken awhile to come to terms with the time lost since my body and head needed that time to recover and that's something i'm much more ok with now. I'm not the absolute best on advice for time management unfortunately, but seeking out projects that might interest you and lets you collaborate with other artists is definitely one way to keep yourself excited and engaged when wanting to make art. Just know and/or learn your limits and you'll be better about not getting too burned out when trying to find that decent balance of art time and other life activities. 3) I actually don't do art full time even if that was originally the plan back in college. I personally found out that I didn't want to turn it into a job the closer graduation came, but that varies completely from person to person and plenty of up and coming artists have found fulfillment in having art be their job too. I used to make prints for conventions so that was a partial income source for a little bit, but again for me it got tiring and I ended up getting a different more physical job to supplement my income while still being able to have enough time to stick around with my friend group on our music video projects. And again there's no shame in taking some time in trying to figure out if you want to make art your job and coming to a different conclusion. Sometimes the things we plan when we're younger take a wildly different turn out of left field and education or job aspirations are very much included in that.
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wallflower 33
Warnings: age gap, creepin’, slow burn, stepdad-adjacent, possible noncon/dubcon, abuse, violence, self-harm, manipulation, panic attack, dissociation, gaslighting.
Character: silverfox!Thor
Your mother meets a new man, but he doesn’t seem very interested in her.
Note: <3 Another erratic drabble series. Appreciate any and all feedback. Love you all. And I didn’t expect this chapter to go this way or to be a bit longer than usual.
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It's strange without Fenrir. Colder. You miss how he put his head in your lap when you felt uneasy, or how he would chase his tail, or wiggle around until you pet his stomach.
Stranger was being alone with Thor. That Thor was there almost constantly. Even when he works in his office, you feel his presence as he keeps his door open, emerging at an unusual noise or whim. He checks in on you often as you busy yourself with colouring books and paints. As if you can't be trusted.
Or maybe he's just worried. Your mother never cared much when you were in your funk, only if she needed a chore done. But he's different, right? He took you away from her. He doesn't expect you to do anything. He doesn't order you around like a slave. He lets you be you. Mostly.
Several days pass in the absence of the rambunctious grey hound. You mourn him quietly but don't ask. You don't want to upset Thor. Besides, your thigh is just healing from the scratch. You just don't understand how that happened. You never saw Fen be anything close to vicious.
As you sit in the living room with a pair of needles and yarn, you hear Thor pass through the entryway. Almost on cue, the doorbell rings and you look over from the first few rows of the dark blue scarf. You wanted to give it to Thor when you finished.
"Ah, there you are," Thor announces, "cold out?"
"Brother," Loki returns as you listen to the soft rustle of his entrance, "you know I enjoy the temperature, though I must admit I am tempted to see the vineyard again."
"First you must see your patient," Thor insists.
"Of course," Loki replies flatly, "where is the young woman?"
You gulp and try not to choke on your voice, "here."
Loki peers around the door frame and smirks as he sees you. Thor appears behind him as surprise ticks in his cheek. He must not have heard you come downstairs. You continue to weave the scarf, trying to hide your anxiety.
You still don't know what to tell Loki. He saw you at your worst and you don't even remember it. You wonder what he thinks of you now. Well, he's a doctor, he must see this all the time.
"There you are, darling," he strides in, "why don't we do our session here? I'd hate to make you clean this all up on my accord."
"Um..." you glance at Thor as he looms in the doorway.
"Brother, you can go in your office, allow us some privacy," Loki pulls over the armchair closer and sits, rubbing his pinkened nose. His brother says nothing as you meet his gaze. You can't tell if he's irritated or nervous.
"She can handle herself," Loki insists as he looks at his watch, "besides, I am a professional. More than capable, isn't that right, darling?"
"Er, sure," you look down at your knitting and clutch it in a ball.
"Alright," Thor drawls, "but I won't be far, kitten."
"Please," Loki dismisses him with a wave, his snakish eyes set on you. He waits until he hears his brother retreat, capped with the hard snap of his office door. "So, let us begin, you seem... placid. Tell me about your mood today."
You look at him and swallow. You smile and your cheeks shake. You lean over to set the yarn and needles on the end table. He slings one leg over the other as he props an elbow on the armrest casually.
"Good, I think," you wring your hands in your lap as you stare at the motion.
He hums, "let us start slow, what is bothering you?"
"Nothing," you murmur.
"Don't lie to me, I'm here to help you," he intones, "so tell me. It is me. My presence has disturbed you?"
You peek up under your lashes and shake your head, "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
"Thor said... you were here when I was... bad. I'm sorry for that."
He takes a breath, his green eyes irritated as they wander above him. He returns his gaze to you and tuts as he smooths his collar, "do not be sorry for that. I did what I could to help but some things... just need time. And I see you've recovered. Somewhat. We must gauge whether there is still work to be done on that."
"Okay," you accept softly.
He watches you. You find it hard to read him. His green eyes are brilliant against his pale skin and his silvering black hair, his nose long and aquiline, his jawline chiseled finely with age. You never looked at him before, not really, it was always so dim in Thor's office.
"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He asks at last.
You furrow your brow in confusion, "anything I-- what would I tell you?"
"How is it here? Living with my brother?"
You bring your hand up to your mouth and nibble the cuff of your sleeve. He notices and your year your arm away. You cross them over your stomach to keep from doing it again.
"It's fine. It's... I have all this stuff to do now and he lets me. I get up and make breakfast and um, yeah, the days just kinda go by."
He nods and thoughtfully scratches his chin, "how do you sleep? Well?"
You scrunch your lips, "I think... I sleep very deeply. I think it's the medicine. I don't know. Ten hours at least."
"Oh, ten hours," he repeats evenly, "well, it sounds like you are well rested."
He stands and you try not to flinch. He nears and you steel yourself, nervous at his sudden proximity. He sits beside you on the couch, not quite against you but close.
"Would you like to stay?" He lowers his voice.
"What?" You flick your lashes.
"If you would like, if there is something you are uncertain of, I could find you somewhere to go. I know how environment can affect one's recovery and... I am mandated to make certain you are safe."
You shrug, "I don't... know. I... I... think it's fine."
He leans in and lightly touches your back, "darling, whatever you tell me is confidential. I will not speak a word of it to anyone else."
You can't look at him. He's too close. You feel buzzing beneath his fingertips, heat searing through your veins. His voice seeps into you, soothing you.
You ball your hands until your nails sink into your palms. You quiver and search for your breath.
What can you tell him? You don't know what's happened. You can't remember much of the last weeks. And Thor tells you nothing has gone on. So what do you say but…
"No," you lie.
He sit quietly. As if waiting for your to say more. You can't. You won't.
"Ahem," Thor clears his throat and both of you look in his direction, "I was going to offer tea or coffee."
His throat constricts around his words. A barely concealed agitation. But why? He brought his brother here.
"Sure," you accept, "I'll have some."
"As will I," Loki adds and drags his hand off your back, "black if you will."
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polarisdelphi · 6 months
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A little character study I did a while ago, trying to figure out new ways of painting, style changes while remaining more on the realistic side... And sword props, 'cause I LOVE drawing swords.
(And I made up the thing written on Excalibur, I know the Legend says it's "Take me Up/Cast me Away", but I wanted something more tied to Arthur's character and why he's the only one who can wield it)
King Arthur and his Knights are one of my favourite stories, so I wanted to work on some ~character designs~ for them (a little d&d-ish like...?)! Working as well on presentation and something I'd enjoy having on my portfolio/doing as a character comission/project/first draft.
Also, tried to test some different layers while colouring, ended up with a sort of vitral looking thing for him:
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Which I also enjoyed a lot :3
Now, regarding character and clothes and all - and some of my takes on Arturian Legend, and just me being a big Arthur and his Knights fangirl overall, under the cut ^^
When it comes to King Arthur, I enjoy more the historical findings and more modern retellings that Arthur would have been a war general, not a king, around the 5th century - fighting saxons on the bloody fiedls of Britain while praying to pagan gods. So that's the direction I'm going for here - even if I took some ~historical liberties~ regarding how everything looks.
(alsooo BIG DISCLAIMER: I'm a product of catholic school and I have a personal beef with all the religion/God/catholic values of the ~legends~ hence why I prefer seeing all of them as a bunch of normal guys surviving the drenched in blood politics of the 5th century rather than chaste, virtuous knights of the 11th century - it's a personal stance, you are more than welcome to disagree in a civilized manner ^^)
Here we have him then: Arthur, uncrowned king of Britain, probably Uther's bastard son, one hell of a war general and politician dealing with the saxons and pulverized british kings fighting for the Great King crown - who just dreams of having a normal life in a nice place with Guinevere and watch his sons grow in a land with peace and justice.
Oh, Arthur, my sweet summer child, I've got news for you...
I Used red on him as a more ~regal colour~, even if usually purple are more the colours of kings and royalty (historically speaking, as far as I know, I'm not really a historian T-T).
Now, a lot of his armor - and looks - comes from Bernard Cornwell's The Winter King book series, that is about Arthur and his Knights. I remember reading Arthur's appearance in a field of war for the first time and my own imagination had me in awe of how stunning (heroic like, not beauty like) he was HAHAHAHA
Shiny dragonscale armor, white vests, white cape, bright sword, mounting on a white Shire Horse (one of the biggest horse breeds ever) that only he and his Knights mounted, making them famous for it... A vision, to say the least!
The white cape and clothes didn't work for this design though. I wanted to make a white cape, dirty with mud and blood, but overall, not good for the design. Went with red because it looks better, it's a royal looking colour for me and it has that blood thing. Arthur might have been fair and with great morals for his time, but he was a killer drenched in blood, head to toes, just like every other great war general.
I want to make a series of Arthurian Legend related illustrations and such, so this is the Arthur I picture and the one I've always had in mind: idealistic, fighting for peace and justice, suffering a lot in a world where blood and corruption is the accepted currency; but even so, he won't abandon his own values and will keep fighting for a better Britain, even if he has to coat himself in the blood of his enemies.
After reading a LOT on Arthur and his Knights - be it classic Arthurian Legend tales, Le Mort D'Arthur, Mists of Avalon, all the Arthurian movies ever made, researches, university talks on Arthur as a character and who were the historical figures he was based on, Bernard Cornwell's books, and a bunch of other stuff told ya I'm an Arthur fangirl :') - I decided to work on my own take of the story, as a lot of people have done before.
Whenever you see any illustrations from me, it's going to be this idea I have in my mind of how his story was like - and what I would've liked to see in books/movies on Arthur and his Knights :)
just you wait for my Lancelot and my Guinevere
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bimobuddy · 10 months
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Safe at Last
TUA tickle fic
> Comfort Tickles <
Lee!Five - Ler!Klaus
Post Series
Might be a little ooc but it's fiiine
Summary: Five is finally being hit by everything, and what better way to help him out than to bring back something simple and familiar?
Five laid there on his bed (futon), just staring up at the ceiling. Processing. He had time traveled, gotten stuck in the post apocalyptic future for 43 years, leaving his family behind, killed people, came back as a child, barely survived three apocalyptic ends, so much more, and... it was finally catching up to him. He exhaled, long and slow.
Due to the deal Allison made with Reginald, they all were alive. Powerless, but alive. And Five was still in his child body, meaning no one believed him that he was 58, and he couldn't buy his own house yet, so he just bounced around from sibling to sibling, whoever would let him stay a few nights.
A few of his siblings had offered to let him just fully move in, and he had considered it, he really had, but he decided against it. He was an old man at heart and mind, he didn't want to feel like he was being taken care of -even if deep down he knew he probably needed it to some degree- so currently, he was staying with Klaus, in an apartment.
"Hey, Fivers.." Speak of the devil. Five didnt even move his head, he just flicked his eyes over to Klaus, who stood in the doorway. "Hm?"
"Hate to barge in like this, but I couldn't help but notice you looked so... sad?" Klaus sat on the futon next to his older-younger brother. Five snorted. "After everything we've been through, 'sad' is an understatement." Five said, looking back up at the ceiling.
Klaus nodded. "Yeah, that's... that's fair. That's really fair." Silence hung in the air for a moment, while Klaus looked down at Five. The poor kid guy looked exhausted, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. In a way, he had. Three times.
Klaus leaned back against the couch part of the futon, in thought. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Hey, Five, if you'll trust me-" "I know I shouldn't, especially after you've said that, but go on." "-I think I know what may help."
Intrigued, Five propped himself up on his elbows. "I hope you don't mean dr-" "No, no, I'm clean now. But back when I was fighting in the war, there was something Dave used to do that would help me relax." Almost immediately, Five laid back down. "Klaus, I'm flattered and a little creeped out, but not interested." Klaus was tempted to bring up the fact that Five had actually made a joke, but he decided to do it later. "No, it wasn't anything like that, it was just a way to calm me down on real bad nights. If you'll trust me, I'd like to try it with you. You need it, buddy, trust me."
Five thought for a moment. "Fine. I doubt you could make it any wORSE-" As soon as the words left his lips, Klaus had pulled him into his lap. Five started to get up but Klaus gently held his shoulders. "No no, it's okay, this is part of it, you're fine! I'm not gonna mess with ya.. Well- Not much. Give me your hand." Five hesitantly laid back down and gave Klaus his hand.
Klaus started to very gently trace light circles against his palm. When Five snorted and closed his fist, pulling away, Klaus chuckled. "Oh right, I forgot your hands were bad. Let's try somewhere a little less sensitive." Before Five could question what he was doing, Klaus had pushed his shirt up to just under his ribs, starting to lightly trace and tap around his tummy.
Five felt his face and ears get red as he hid his face. He tried to blink away- right. No powers anymore. He decided to just keep his face covered as he giggled into his hands. "Fuck- Klahaus! Whyhy?" The Former-Seance just grinned. "It's hard to think about the bad things while you're getting tickled, isn't it?"
He was right. Five found it quite difficult to think about that while giggling, laying across his brother's lap. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Five was remembering a time when they were kids, this was a thing Klaus had done back then, too. He was always one to give cheer-up tickles to him and his siblings after a rough day. He felt a mix of comfort and nostalgia spread throughout his chest, coming out in the form of much lighter, more bubbly giggles. He hadn't even noticed.
Klaus grinned down at him. "Aw, look at you! You're actually giggling and staying in place, you haven't rolled away once!"
Oh, right.. His reputation.. He was supposed to not like this. Five raised an arm to cover his mouth as he turned his head away, but Klaus just upped the tickles and skittered up his ribs and toward his underarm. Five slammed his arm down as his giggles turned frantic. "Dohohon't!" "Don't what?" "Tihickl- I'M NAHAT THAT DUHUMB!" "Ah, I almost gotcha though."
Klaus fluttered his fingers around Five's ears and under his chin, which resulted in an adorable little snort, then found his way back to his tummy, getting bubbly giggles, then to his hips, which made Five buck and let out a real belly laugh. Yet he still hadn't really protested or tried to get away.
When Klaus squeezed his knee, Five shot up and grabbed his hand. "KLAHAUS!!" He paused to catch his breath, giggles still flooding out of his chest. Klaus smiled warmly. "Just gentle tickles? Calm?" Five just nodded and repeated, "Calm."
Five laid back down, covered his face, and giggled softly into the room, the way he used to before everything happened, back when he was still a somewhat normal 13 year old spending the night in his brother's room after a hard day. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt safe.
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greypetrel · 1 year
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My two cents at the prosthetics topic
I did not plan on making one post so soon, but since everyone is doing it I got inspired. Hope it'll make sense.
I don't like magic as a deus ex machina, or as a solution for everything. As many more people have said more eloquently than I could, materials in an historical context similar to the DA one are heavy and sturdy, and they won't allow for anything much comfortable. (even if of course in real life one would go for a solution that brings full functionality back... For stories, I think it's not the most interesting solution. A bias from years of roleplaying, if my characters have a malus, I'd rather have them cope with it. Even if it's less realistic. Pure personal taste tho.)
Maybe an Inquisitor who keeps the Inquisition running could emply resources to get some bamboo from up North, which is a light wood that would be better for a prolonged, more comfortable use? People who actually knows shit about using bamboo as more than "make a covering for your balcony railings" knows more than me, surely.
This is not my case, tho, and I'll speak for my Inquisitor, Aisling, and my choices. Explanations under the cut.
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CANON:
In the long series of trauma that is playing as a Lavellan, Aisling decided that Trespasser was her limit. She disbanded the Inquisition and never turned back.
She enrolled in the Red Jennies, but for a year, she wanted nothing to do with it. She had to lick at her wounds and cope with yet another figure she considered family kicking right into her core trauma and biggest fear. It'll take a while to recover and come to terms with what happened and be sure that no, she wasn't over and better off dead, people in her life weren't there out of pity, nobody considered her a dead weight. She had a strong support system and made it out thanks to that, between Cullen's support and Sera snapping and getting her out of her head.
Some attempts at prosthetics were made, but she always found them uncomfortable and just a hindrance: losing time in pulling levers and pinning joints down irritated her, so she just ditched it, told Dagna to not bother making another after the second attempt, and just rolled up her sleeve and adjusted objects around her to adapt to just one hand (the mortar is fixed to a table so she can work with just one hand, she has a clasp for paper when she needs to write and so on). She helps herself with some practical magic, she can be seen frequently levitating things she can't bring around one-handed, found a way to tie very basic knots, adapted the house to be functional for her as well, learnt to ask for help when nothing works (She's a terrible cook so that's at least not a problem).
When she stabilised enough mentally to show interest in going to missions with Sera, she asked for something more utilitaristic. Nothing with a grabbing motion because as above: it takes time and she's for speed, she'd grow irritated. And listen, I liked the solution of the end credit scene. So, she just proposed a crossbow to Dagna (it's automatic, it can be adapted in a way a bow couldn't, if it's stuck to your arm you don't need a second hand to aim), she has pretty good aim from dealing with thunder and so she asked Sera to teach her archery. It took... LONG to be proficient at it, but she managed to be functional. She's not great, but she's functional. The turnback is that she needs to be still and not move around, she need to prop the "damn thing" on something to shoot, because it's too heavy to keep it up in front of her for long enough, and the movements are extremely limited. Also, it's heavy and uncomfortable. Basically, she can act as a sniper, when Sera jumps in more closely to the action. When she needs to step up, a couple of buckles free her from the shoulder-harness, and she's free to jump in, use magic... Her spirit blade is a rapier, so it's already made to be wielded with just one hand. It also took time to learn to move effectively without the weight of half her arm, but she'd rather go without that with something uncomfortable. It wasn't the perfect solution but it was a good solution to her, if a long one to get proficient at.
The real deal comes with the Dark Lady AU...
She lost her arm permanently in the siege of Barad-Dur, she was... Wrongly convinced by another Maiar who loves wolves a little too much that she could win the battle. She could not. Lost her arm, lost her Ring, was badly wounded and forced to run away. (I still needs to plan details out, bear with me. I'll keep the "Eh, yeah, Solas took my arm".)
In Dol-Guldur, when she recovered enough to take human form again, she discovered that she couldn't grow that arm back. So, she did what she did best: experiment. She met with Dagna there, and they started working together, experimenting with materials and functionalities. It's made of an exterior empty shell of wood around a bask of mithril, light enough to be less uncomfortable as possible, empty on the inside and heavily padded around what's left of her arm. The mithril also helps her channel her magic and direct it. The fingers and joints (elbow and wrist) work with balls and pins, and she has to maneuver them manually. If she concentrates, she can move them with magic, but it takes a lot of effort and it's seldom worth it. It's good to hold small things, if not quick... The real deal is that it's her weapon, and she uses it as her staff. She may look unharmed and without weapons, but OOPS, watch her.
Again, it's not for comfort and it's not 100% functional as her real hand, it's not resistant and it will break under too much pressure. But, it's functional enough and light, and it adapts to her needs. When she's in her apartments chilling down, or spending time with the Nine/other friends around, she'll just take it off and go without.
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viscountessevie · 2 years
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A funny bit, but I was on youtube watching one of those list videos, and one about famous romcoms, talked about My best friend's wedding and one producer said they had to come back and film a different end, because in the original, Julia's character got the guy and the focus group was pissed because everyone felt bad for Cameron's, their idea didn't work on screen, so they saw the mistake and changed the end, they could go on like Bridgerton, not even acknowledge the mistake but then again there are creators interested in making things people will enjoy and bring more $ others are way to worry about their own ego with the check already on their bank
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Thanks for this ask anon! Super cool info on an old movie I like and I'm always here for dragging the Bridgerton Production 😂😂
Okay firstly: let's talk about the Best Friend's Wedding of it all because holy shit what!!! I may be in the minority but I would have lovedd that ending. I was always rooting for Julia Roberts to be happy even though I thought Dermot's character was a shithead for leading her on (however cluelessly) and they didn't really seemed to have chemistry which is why it was so surprising when Julia and Dermot had INSANE chemistry in interviews. Like I once watched one of their interviews in recent years and had to check if they were actually married to one another. Their friendship is what soulmates are made of tbh.
Honestly, I thought both girls could do better than Dermot's character 💀💀 Rupert Everett was the only valid man in that movie.
My dragging of My Best Friend's Wedding aside, I like that they did take into account of the test audiences' response to some extent (cos it doesn't always work tbh and you just gotta stick to your vision) and realised they could do better and did just that.
As for Bridgerton, D R A G them anon. They refused to listen to us about how problematic the SA scene was and instead CVD doubled down on it saying it was a monent of empowerment for Daphne 🤢. Of course this season, they COMPLETELY butchered one of the most beloved book of the series (don't get me started on butchering my culture but that's for another post) and made Penalty girlboss some more and ruin her so-called best friend's life. Like I love drama but this isn't Big Brother or Gossip Girl, it's a romance show I don't know why they moved away from that. It's fucking annoying. If I wanted drama, I'd tune into my reality shows.
I will give them *some* props for certain changes - the new Bee scene, new accident scene (though I hated the motivation of it for the Sharmas - like you're going to finally notice and forgive her after she almost dies???) and Kathony choosing each other before marriage (though fuck buddies married Kathony sex montage I'll always miss your potential for the show 😭😭)
Other than that, it was ALL Jimone carrying this season because aside from their scenes and storyline, the whole season was a fucking mess. It was not cohesive at all and because of the Featherflops, it felt like I was watching two different shows. Literally who approved this season to drop in the state it was in?? Did no one on the Executive Producing Team and Higher Ups at Netflix take a SINGLE writing/storytelling class???
But yeah this season's writing and CVD acting like he is God's gift to humanity for writing, just proved this show isn't really worth my time. So they can take other people's time and money next season and keep putting out the shit they're putting out. Some people will clearly eat it up. I'll be here watching Lockwood & Co. supporting Ruby instead (may pirate S3 but I'm undecided).
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idyllphile · 2 years
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I keep wondering about this bit from WTIT... there are five movies here (or four movies and a season of a TV show if you wanna be fully accurate), three of which have been mentioned by name in previous episodes
Just Like Heaven is the most obvious one; it had a big role in DWIT where it was used as an example of how trying to repress thoughts doesn’t work and isn't healthy. even though Patton was the one who brought it up as an attempted distraction, it's really Remus' movie because it featured in his debut episode and ended up becoming 'tainted' in Thomas' mind through a mental link between it and his intrusive thoughts
then there's Chicago, which was one of Janus' musical theatre puns in the end card of CLBG ("Full of Shi-cago"), and even if these are just props/easter eggs and they really doesn't mean anything, I like the fact that the movies associated with Janus and Remus are so close :) Dark Sides Family
finally we have Lost, which Roman wanted to reminisce about in MOVING ON (the end of Part 1 and the beginning of Part 2). interestingly though, he specifically said "the fifth season of Lost," but here we see the Season 3 box set. could this be foreshadowing some future character regression for Roman? could something that happens in the third season of Lost be a hint? or did Thomas just not have his Season 5 box set on hand this time?
the other two movies have never been mentioned before: Elf and The Odd Life of Timothy Green. I wonder if they'll be referenced in episodes to come? could their themes be clues? they both seem like Patton movies; Elf for the silliness, The Odd Life of Timothy Green for the heartwarming bittersweetness, both for the focus on familial love and parent-child relationships. but if these movies are here for any reason besides being a props and easter eggs, I'd find it strange that two would be dedicated to Patton when the other Sides either have one or none, especially since both of these two are the ones currently lacking any mention in the series. so maybe one of them is actually connected to another Side? or even Thomas himself?
hmmmm, much to ponder, much to overthink
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x-ceirios-x · 2 months
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if i could find a way to see this straight, I'd run away
part one of a series about the ashfair family and their history. prev | next
rowan finally puts together the pieces of magnus's relationship with their family, thanks to a key detail from aric he'd been keeping from them.
cw: mild cursing
Despite their worst concerns, things had worked out. And despite their protests, Rowan ended up at a party. A celebration party due to the end of the fight against Valentine—Alicante was full of Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, all in their best outfits, drinking and eating and dancing. Everyone insisted they go, even Maryse, who gave them that mom-like, don’t-argue-with-me, I-know-better look that they hated but they loved her for it either way. Isabelle helped them go shopping and pick out a nicer outfit than their usual gear (including pants without holes in the knees). They refused to compromise on all-black, though. 
They’d originally come with their friends, though all of them had gone off and started chatting with people or dancing. Clary was off with Jace somewhere, Simon was talking to MaiaIsabelle was on the dance floor with Tony who they’d met a week or so ago, and Alec was chatting with his parents, who also had Jensen clinging next to them. He hadn’t spoken since everything happened, not that they heard. They worried for him but he didn't want their company. 
A tall figure blocked their view of the rest of the room. They sat down their drink—it was something pink and shimmery, not that they knew what it really was. As long as it didn’t turn them into a rat—and looked up at the person in front of them: Magnus Bane.
“Now, what is someone as lovely as you sitting by yourself?” he asked, sitting down in the chair next to them. “I can’t believe you brought a book to a party.”
They grabbed the book next to them and put it on their lap, under the table. “I think your boyfriend would much prefer your attention. More than I do.”
“Ah, but I’m here now.” He leaned back in the chair and smiled. “I can’t quite figure out what makes you tick, peanut—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Absolutely, I will.” He dropped a glittering wink—an extremely glittery one, his eyes were covered in blue and purple shimmering dust and he had a few nicely placed rhinestones around his eyes. “But really. One moment I seem to get somewhere with you, and the next you’re all cold and moody.”
Rowan spluttered. “I am not moody, and—“ they huffed— “you’re frustrating.”
Magnus grinned. “I’ve noticed.”
They pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed. “What do you want, Magnus?” they asked, sounding defeated. “I’m tired of the games. You seem to care about me more than you do others I know, I know this isn’t about getting closer to Alec anymore. You have what you want.”
“I do and I don’t,” he said with a shrug. “Alexander is very dear to me, that is true. I wanted to be in your good graces to see him more often. But I know you, peanut, and I want to know how well you know me.”
They glared at him over their hand. “I met you a few weeks ago. I know nothing about you other than your name and the fact that I’m mentally preparing myself to have to teach Alec some terminology for things while he knows you.”
Magnus snickered—in any other situation, they would have, too. They would admit, they did have the sense of humor of a fourteen-year-old mundane boy, but they were too irritated to laugh. 
It was just their luck that one of two people in the world that managed to piss them off no matter what they said appeared at the table a moment later. “Alice,” their father said, looking past Magnus and to them. “I was hoping to talk to you tonight, about your return to New York.”
They turned their glare on him. “I’m a little busy,” they said, leaning their chin on their hand, their arm propped on the table. “Have you met my lovely friend Magnus?”
When they looked back, Magnus had lost his shine. Physically he was the same, but they could see in his eyes something much darker, much angrier when they’d father appeared. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a thin-lipped frown. He stood—they hadn’t really thought of how tall Magnus was before, but he was several inches taller than their father. They suspected his boots helped with that, too—and turned to face him. “Aric,” he said coldly, his voice like sharpened icicles in the air. They’d never seen him angry like that, and it was then Rowan remembered he really was a powerful warlock. He usually didn’t use that to his advantage in social situations, but it was all over his aura—the sheer power he held because he was upset. 
To their surprise, their father didn’t react. They knew he had a stubborn side and didn’t like to be challenged, not when something like his reputation was on the line. He almost looked hurt when he faced him. “Magnus,” he said, his voice much softer and almost apologetic. “I suppose you’re not interested in small talk.”
Magnus all but sneered. “I’m not interested in anything from you, actually. Not after I had to hear about Mollie from my friend Ragnor instead of yourself.”
Aric’s face hardened. “This is not the time for that.”
“That wasn’t the time either, was it?” he asked. He turned back to Rowan and forced a tense smile on his face. “I apologize, dear, but I suspect my company is no longer welcome.” He glanced at Aric, and with a final flourishing bow, he stalked off, joining Maia, Simon, and a blond girl at another table that they kind-of recognized. 
Rowan’s gaze turned back to their father, who looked utterly defeated. He never liked to talk about their mother, which usually upset them because they wanted to know stories about her. Magnus’s disappearance and mention of their mom had too many thoughts going through their mind, coupled with putting what information they already had. “What the hell was that?” they demanded, their voice low. 
Aric shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. They noticed, from the last time they’d seen him, that he’d developed more gray in a few places. He would have been more worried for him if he showed any care for their life. He wasn’t even forty, yet. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, you don’t get to run away from this.” They stood and grabbed his arm before he got the chance to walk away. “You don’t get to run away every time things get hard. I’m tired of it. How does Magnus know Jensen, and how does he know mom?”
He frowned. “This is not the time or the place.”
“It never is with you!” they snapped. They realized they drew a few stares and took a deep breath. “I want answers. Now. This has been bothering me since I met him back in August.”
“You met him in August?”
“Yeah, and you’d know that if you bothered to check in with me. Now answer my question.” They stood there, rage burning behind their eyes, though they let go of his arm. 
Their father sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “It is a very, very long story. And one that we should talk about before you leave again,” he said. “I want you to enjoy your evening.”
“And I want to know what’s been going on.”
“Fine,” he said, his tone short suddenly. “Your mother and Magnus Bane were good friends. And you knew him a long time ago, before you ever went to New York with the Lightwoods.”
Rowan’s eyes widened at his words and their mouth fell open slightly. “You—y—” they stuttered, unable to find words for the things going through their mind at the moment. “Why would you keep that from me?” they asked in a half-whisper. 
Their father sighed. “I assumed you forgot. You were young. I didn’t think you’d see him again after everything, so I figured it wasn’t worth it.”
“Worth what?”
“The heartbreak of giving you a piece of your mother you’d never see again,” he said, voice tight. “I try not to give you false hope, Alice—”
He tried to put his hand on their shoulder, but they ducked away immediately and brushed him off. They stared at him, unable to process all of this at once. Everything felt fuzzy. The people and music sounded underwater. They could feel the blood pounding in their ears. Half of them wanted to run, get away from him, and the other half wanted to scream at him in front of everyone and tell him they couldn’t stand him for not being around, for keeping secrets from them apparently, and for leaving when they needed him the most. But their feet wouldn’t move—they could only stare at him, unmoving. 
Finally, they found their voice—shaky and broken, but there nonetheless. “I hate you,” they said, looking up at him with more spite and rage and hurt and heartbreak than they ever had in their life. There was a part of them that had believed, once, that he was still their dad, and if they really needed something, he would be there. But hiding someone’s entire existence from them, just because he didn’t want to talk about their mom when it was a way to feel more connected with her—it was unforgivable. He knew full well how lonely they felt when he shipped them off to New York, and how badly they wanted to learn more about their mom due to their limited memories of her. Even less of them, the older they got. 
His eyes fell to the floor. He looked ashamed, but they knew he should be. He was a coward and a bastard and they no longer wanted anything to do with him—not now. Their life would be much better without him involved and they should have realized it sooner. 
Finally, their feet moved. They turned and walked from the hall at a surprisingly calm pace. They refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing them cry and didn’t particularly want to embarrass themselves in front of everyone at the party. They brushed past people as they left, weaving through the crowd, though didn't pay much attention to anyone if they bumped into them. The second they got into the hall, they took off into a run, turning a corner and running down the road until it turned into a dirt path leading out of the city. They slowed, climbing the hill at a moderate pace until they reached the top. Slowly, they turned, watching the lights and fog rise above the town square, showing the party continuing from even that far away. They wondered if anyone noticed their absence, though entirely doubted it. It would be better to just stay there, they decided, and watch from afar while everyone had their fun. They leaned against a tree, looking over the tall buildings and the color-drained sky. 
It was several minutes of silence before they saw a figure on the dirt path, down the hill from them. They didn’t have their glasses or stele to fix their vision with a rune, so didn’t recognize him until he was only a few feet away. Simon strode toward them, something in his hand—when he got closer, he realized it was their book. 
“You left this,” he said, holding it out for them. He offered an encouraging smile, though they could see the worry in his eyes. They didn’t want his pity, they wanted everyone to leave them alone and enjoy the party without them. 
They took it silently and tucked it under their jacket, biting their cheek to keep from saying anything. The second they opened their mouth, they knew they wouldn’t be able to pretend things were okay anymore and the mildly irritated, normal mask would be no more. 
“You looked upset when you left,” Simon continued. “Wanna talk about it.”
They let out a quick, frustrated breath and shook their head. “Not really.” Rather than a calm, steady voice like they tried to force out, it quivered and cracked as they spoke. 
Simon looked at them with narrowed eyes, though they could tell from his expression he was trying to get them to laugh at the same time. The weird frowning movement he did at the same time was just strange and he looked stupid. If it was any other situation, they probably would have. 
“Don’t start,” they said, sounding utterly defeated. 
Instead of arguing, he leaned against the tree next to them. They could feel his eyes on them as they stared out at the city. Despite the slight blurriness, it was still beautiful. The back of his hand brushed theirs—they didn’t look down or acknowledge it, other than silently finding his pinky and wrapping theirs around it. Out of the corner of their eye, they noticed he smiled. 
“I know you’re, like, super stubborn,” he said. It probably wasn’t the best way to start that, but they weren’t offended. “And we haven’t known each other super long. But I’m around if you need something, alright? Especially if you gotta vent about your dad. I love my mom so much, but she’s such a pain in my ass sometimes.”
“Who said it was my dad that was the problem?”
He shrugged. “You’ve just got a look. Plus Magnus told me.”
They pinched the bridge of their nose, pulling away from him, and sighed. “I don’t even want to think about Magnus right now. It’s just…a headache.”
“Something happen?”
They nodded. “Yeah. Part of the argument with my dad. I just…” they took a breath and looked over at him. “I can’t deal with everything right now. But I can tell you later, once I have a second to stomach all this.”
Simon nodded in agreement and smiled slightly. “I’ll take you up on that once we get back to New York. We can start a podcast that’s just you and me—” he waved his hand through the air, like he was showing them the name of this idea— “Ashfair family drama. Which, of course, I can be your only listener if you don’t feel like sharing with anyone else.”
They scoffed, stifling a small laugh. “You’re ridiculous, I hope you know.” 
“Eh. I’ve been hearing that from Clary for years. I know. Now—” he turned to face them and offered his hand— “don’t let your dad run your night. Let’s go party.”
They raised an eyebrow at him. “I do hate parties, actually. And I don’t dance.”
“Well, I don’t really have a choice. So you don’t either.” He grabbed their hand and started off, not exactly pulling them, but not giving them much choice of whether or not they wanted to go, either. “Off to party and make fools of ourselves because neither of us can dance!”
They rolled their eyes but walked next to him nevertheless, allowing him to keep ahold of their hand the entire way there. Simon was right—he hadn’t known them for very long. They hadn’t known Clary long, either, but they’d managed to make a good friendship with them both. They knew from the beginning that meeting Clary was going to mean things in their life changing, maybe in ways they didn’t want to deal with. But it wasn’t entirely for the bad like they assumed it would be in the beginning. They walked away with better relationships with people they’d known for years and a handful of new friends they didn’t know exactly how to feel about. Things with Clary were complicated, but they could keep their feelings to themself for a while. Maybe wait for them to fizzle out. And the other day, Simon promised to show them some mundane movies he swore were as good as the classic novels they read in their free time. And Magnus—well, he’d be getting a visit from them in New York one of these days, once they had time to put all the pieces together. 
It frustrated them some, not knowing what the future held for them. In the last few weeks, there had been so many unexpected moments thrown at them that they didn’t know which way was up. They knew shadowhunters were supposed to die young, usually, but having two near-death experiences within a few weeks of each other wasn’t exactly fun. Their relationship with Alec had gotten better, things with Jace were unspoken but over, and they felt a strange sense of freedom they didn’t usually get, despite all the things they had to deal with when they got back home. 
But for one dancing and firework-filled night, they could forget the world and just remember that Simon was there, as were the rest of their friends—their family. And they could be happy that the worst of Valentine’s reign on the shadow world was over. 
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daincrediblegg · 1 year
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the terror ! chernobyl! <333
THE TERROR
Favourite character: Who else but Francis Crozier? My Darling? my beloved? the love of my life? Funniest character: Thomas Blanky (THE MVP!!! though Francis is also close second the man is funny as fuck TO ME) Best-looking character: Also Francis and I will NOT be challenged on the subject (but also in fairness there's a few other hotties on there like JFJ and Neddie and Jop and BLANKY and silna and everybody... but Francis still takes the cake) 3 favourite ships: well obviously the very canonical Lady Terror x Crozier (I am biased and I'm not sorry about it ) or Amelia x Crozier or JFJ (I am biased and I'm not sorry about it) OR Lady Terror x Amelia x Crozier x JFJ (I AM. BIASED. AND I AM NOT SORRY. ABOUT IT.) (no but in fairness in my periphery Silna/Goodsir, and the occasional rossier or fitzier when I start going mad with lust from the lack of reader fic) Least favourite character: rAT BITCH HICKEY( I keep making that Lady Terror with a boat knife joke for a reason. listen I appreciate his character and the role he plays in the narrative and how vital it is, but also he just sucks as a dude in general what with the racism and sexism and how he weaponizes that to inspire it in everyone else when they're vulnerable. like forget the cannibalism there are a great many reasons to throw that whole man out) but also low-key Sofia (look girl I understand where you're coming from but the guy really said there is nowhere I'd rather be and whichever direction leads the altar. no it's not a good match and you're right but still HE IS HEARTBROKEN- I don't feel so bad now bc Lady Terror is on the case but still. I just feel for the fella ok?)
Least favourite ship: Crozier x Sofia (HE! CAN! DO! BETTER!)
Reason why I watch it: reasons are myriad and plentiful (as you damn well know cherry). I like a damn good gothic story and this one is slowly becoming one of my favorites of the lot (and I basically have a concentration in this genre for my major at this point so that says a lot). Never has the rot of empire been laid out so clearly so carefully with a wealth of characters that bring nuance and insight into the subject and especially (and importantly) Inuit perspective on the event. It has so much weight and depth to it and Crozier in particular holds my fascination for his narrative in superposition between colonizer and colonized and just the IMMENSE weight of his internal struggle that is laid out for him throughout the course of the series. Of course naturally I saw that and went "I want to fuck him" because with all that on the line how could I resist (not to mention with how revealing his conversations with Sofia are he's absolutely a romantic at heart I know it) ? But honestly without all that insanely in-depth character work (as played by the ever brilliant ever enrapturing Jared Harris) I would not be as down bad as I am about it. Not to mention just how well it's written how detailed the character work is how ACCURATE everything is to period down to set dressings and props. I'm just bloody in love with it all ok? ok.
Why I started watching it: I was bored and I think we were a few months into the pandemic and I was like "hey I've been meaning to watch this" and then I did and all I knew was Jared Harris and Tobias Menzies and the fella from game of thrones. And then I did another re-watch a few months back (induced by Chernobyl which was induced by TLOU coming out) and here we are now the brain rot has fully taken hold.
CHERNOBYL
Favourite character: Hard tie between the trio but then again... I end up writing for Valery more often than not so... Yeah unfortunately my bias is showing it's Valery.
Funniest character: The Miner Crew Chief. motherfucker really said bare ass into the nuclear reactor tunnel but keep the hats on as a malicious compliance maneuver. Absolute legend (though Boris is close second with his little meltdown like jfc I scream about it every time. And also Valery being an awkward little bean half the time brings me nothing but sheer joy)
Best-looking character:... As TASTY as Valery is technically speaking Boris is more well put together imo (but still... Valery's old man shuffle and pudgy belly have captivated me)
3 favourite ships: Valery x Ulana x Boris are such a supreme ot3 for me (and Intercalculation on ao3 has spoiled me for life) and honestly that's the only one I really have (Well... other than Valery x Boris x Cherry's unnamed Baker OC ofc. and perhaps everyone/lead shielding)
Least favourite character: Dyatlov. Imagine being horribly irradiated and asking for a butter and caviar sandwich? wretched gremlin behavior and fucking criminally negligent to boot! (second only to the fucking snake and head of the KGB himself Charkov. the prick.)
Least favourite ship: ... anyone x the exposed reactor core
Reason why I watch it: I mean honestly? I watched it when it came out (or at least around the time) and it's such a ballsy show for the time. I mean it was pre-pandemic, middle of the trump era. And here's this show critiquing absolute faith damn near to the point of zionism in the state (when the state is, in fact, horribly HORRIBLY flawed). Granted, the manifestation in the Soviet Union is much different than it was in america, but the takeaway (again delivered with insanely remarkable gusto by Jared Harris) remains so profound and pertinent. The "lie" in what is arguably the best tagline ever written isn't about the actual state secrets that allowed chernobyl to occur itself. it's the very idea in the government's infallibility that is a lie- and anyone in my generation knew that before this series, but considering when it came out? it's SO ballsy to say that. And has never been more important. And I just keep coming back to it for the magnificent performances to that end (and especially Jared. love of my life)
Why I started watching it: Lol I remember seeing it and thinking "yo radiation scary" but then the above hit. it was incredible.
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cherrycheridarling · 3 years
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lockscreen | t.h.
tom holland x famous!reader
warnings: none just fluff
summary: tom goes on jimmy fallon for a game of 'show me your phone'. being the oblivious child he is, tom forgets about his lockscreen.
wc: 1.4k
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"Welcome back! We're here again with the star of the Spider-Man series, Tom Holland!" Jimmy's announcement drew cheers from the audience. "Tonight, we are going to be playing a game called 'Show Me Your Phone'."
Jimmy went on to explain the game to the crowd as Tom sat across from him patiently waiting. Jimmy pressed on the button first and ended up showing the world that his last photo was a selfie taken minutes ago in the washroom. That gained a lot of laughs. Then it was Tom's turn.
"I'm terrified. I don't even know what's on my phone." Tom shook his hands before firmly pushing the button. It landed on the iMessage icon. "Oh? My last text message convo?" he began to unlock his phone. Eyes skimming over his lockscreen.
"Yup, and once it's locked in, you can't touch it." Jimmy reminded him of the rules as Tom quickly skimmed through his last conversation.
Tom ran a hand down his face before chuckling, "Oh, geez. Alright, some context, I needed help picking a tie for tonight and my mate, Harrison, is nowhere near helpful."
He placed his phone in front of the camera as the conversation appeared for the audience to read.
Tom: haz what tie? red or blue?
Harrison: youre ugly either way
Tom: you look like dolores umbridge. pick a tie ffs
Harrison: mm my babe umbridge. jokes. i'd say purple
Tom: you're gross and no help at all
Harrison: have fun babe the bed is waiting for you
Tom: don't make me puke before i go on the show
Harrison: puke on me daddy
The crowd bursted out into laughter along with Jimmy as Tom covered his beet red face in embarrassment. "He is going to kill me for showing that." Tom was laughing as he spoke.
"That's hilarious! Okay, my turn." Jimmy ended up sharing a voice memo of him reminding himself to do chores around the house.
Tom wiped his hands on his pants before pushing the large button again. It landed on the lock icon. "What does that mean?"
"You have to share your lockscreen."
Tom's posture visibly stiffened at the information given. He wished he had gotten some warning before coming on the show. A caution sign telling him to erase everything on the iPhone.
His lockscreen was a memory. A keepsake. You. A piece of his heart. A reminder of happiness and the loving moments you shared with one another. It was taken a little over a year ago at Zendaya's house for a get-together with a few close friends.
You were propped up on the kitchen island, a wide smile on your face. Tom standing in between your legs with his back to your chest. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he tilted his head and placed a kiss on your cheek. Jacob Batalon had captured the moment. A heartwarming interaction that you had both done an outstanding job at keeping under wraps.
You had been dating for nearly two years. How you had managed to keep it hidden for such an extended amount of time was a wonder to everyone who knew, including yourselves. It wasn't that you were both set on no one ever finding out, you just never saw the need to. It was your relationship, only meant to be shared between the two of you.
Tom hoped you wouldn't be mad if the world found out, but he enjoyed the privacy and the feeling of having something that was only his. Something he didn't have to share with the globe. Tom debated on his options. Showing the picture and making headlines for the next week or refusing to do so and ruining the game while making everyone suspicious of him.
The former won.
"Okay, um." Tom nervously let out a laugh, "Surprise?"
With shaking hands, he placed his locked phone on the stand and avoided looking into the crowd as reactions varied throughout the studio. Gasps, cheers, 'aww's, even some screams. Both of his hands shielded his expression from the cameras as he allowed the audience to examine the photo.
"Oh, my god! W-what?!" Jimmy stammered, shocked what his eyes saw, "That's Y/N Y/L/N! A-are you two?" his eyes flicked from the phone to Tom.
Tom nodded slowly, "Yeah, yeah. It is and we are. Nearly two years steady." this intel drew more shocked reactions from the habitants of the studio.
"This is amazing! We love Y/N! But wow, how did no one know?!" Jimmy was still in disbelief.
Tom smiled at your name, "I may be loose-lipped with movie spoilers, but this is proof that I can keep secrets."
Jimmy's mouth was agape, "I have so many questions and you are so lucky that we are out of time."
Tom released a breath he didn't know he was holding as Jimmy said goodbye to the cameras and they stopped recording.
As Tom made his way backstage to head to his hotel, his heart began to beat out of his chest as he thought about your reaction.
-
Lounging on his hotel comforter, Tom pulled out his phone once again and clicked on your contact. m'lady. Pressing the FaceTime icon.
Your bright smile lit up the screen, illuminating his mood like the sun on a stormy day.
"Hello, lover. To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night call?" you chuckled while sitting up against the headboard of your bed, Tessa laying beside you.
Tom couldn't suppress his grin at your presence even if it was through a screen, "Hi, darling. I didn't know if you would be awake. Isn't it nearly three in the morning there?"
You nodded and pushed your glasses up on your nose, "Had to run some lines with Tess before filming tomorrow. She's a great actress." you panned the camera over to the sleeping pup.
"Sometimes I think you're only with me for my dog." he joked with a light laugh.
"Shoot. I thought I had you fooled." you teased back, "Why did you call, bum?"
He scratched the back of neck and avoided looking at the screen. That was enough for you to know that something was up.
"What part of your movie did you spoil this time?" you chuckled.
Tom shook his head with a smile, brown curls flopping on his head, "Nothing about my film, love. More or less about us." he mumbled the last bit, but you heard it.
Your shoulders tensed involuntarily, "I'm gonna need more information than that."
"We were playing a game where you have to show certain things on your phone and I had to show my lockscreen and, well, you know what my lockscreen is." his nerves grew with every second that your face stayed expressionless.
"Okay. How did they react?" you stifled a yawn.
Tom's eyebrows furrowed at your response, "Y-you're not mad?"
You chuckled, "Do you want me to be mad?"
"No, no, no." he quickly protested, "I just didn't know if you were ready to tell the world about us and I'm sorry for not informing you before making that big of a step in our relationship."
You smiled at the caring boy in your life. His thoughtfulness overpowering any negative emotions that could've surfaced. You weren't mad at all. Two years was a long time to keep a relationship hidden especially when both of the parties are well known to the public.
"No need to apologize, mi amor. It was about time everyone found out. Long overdue if you ask me. I would've appreciated a heads up, but I'm not mad." you insisted, and it was true.
Tom visibly relaxed at your words, "The audience was shocked and some gushed and screamed. Can't wait to see the headlines and news articles tomorrow."
"I can see it now: 'Spider-Man Actor, Tom Holland and Actress, Y/N Y/L/N's Hidden Love'." you spoke in a mocking voice making your boyfriend laugh.
"Can't forget; 'All the evidence of their relationship that the public overlooked'." he joked in the same tone as you both laughed together joyously.
Your laughter died down while a peaceful smile lingered on your lips, "I'm glad you had fun tonight. I should get some rest. Need to be in hair and makeup at seven."
He nodded understandingly, "Have fun on set, darling. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight, sleep tight, sweet dreams."
"Goodnight, sleep tight, sweet dreams, lover." you gave a little wave before ending the call.
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endorspeaches · 2 years
Text
We Can Just Talk pt 2
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: bit a fluff, a bit of angst.
Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers
Summary: Spending a whole day with Steve Rogers and you're catching feelings?!
Listen with: New Home - Austin Farwell
Masterlist
A/N: I hope you're enjoying this series <3
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"You really have it all don't you?" Steve smiles as he ties his robe.
"That robe I took from a hotel a few years ago. Luckily for me, they didn't keep my deposit. But you haven't seen anything yet," you open the door to your washer and dryer.
"In the unit? Wow. I really am impressed. In all honesty, I thought you were just going to hand me my clothes in a bag." he walks over to you with his coffee-stained shirt.
"I had to beg for this, so don't go telling the rest of the building. Also if I did hand you your clothes in a bag, would you walk out onto the street in a robe?" you joke.
"No, not at all, I would just stay in this apartment until you move out. May I?" he tilts his head toward the machines.
"I wasn't just showing off Steve. The detergent is on the shelf" you turn back to the kitchen and grab the mop bucket.
"I spilled my coffee, let me clean up." He says as he shuts the washing machine.
"You're not gonna out manner me Steve, I'm pulling the 'You're a guest' card right now." You say as you pull the mop out of his hands.
"Besides, most of the spill fell on your shirt." you laugh.
He smirks and nods his head and walks back over to the washer and dryer. You finish cleaning up the spill and turn to put the mop and bucket away and you bump straight into him dropping the mop on the floor.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was going to try to help you put the mop away," he says as he leans over to pick up the mop.
"It's okay, my first instinct was to wack you with the mop but I dropped it instead." you laugh as you reach out for the mop
He pulls the mop behind him, "Please allow me."
You look up at him. You inhale deeply at him," Alright you win."
You hand him the mop and bucket and he stands in front of you for a bit longer and keeps eye contact before he chuckles and you turn away. You can feel your cheeks become flushed so you hurry over to the window.
You pull the curtains and open the door allowing the soft morning light to enter your space. You stand at the door looking out to the city hoping to forget the moment in the kitchen.
"I don't think I'll ever leave," he says softly.
"It's hard for me to leave sometimes too," you sigh as you stand and look out the glass door. You become flustered again and shake it off before turning around. He's talking about the view, relax Y/N. You take a final deep breath before you turn to sit on the couch with Steve.
You find him looking at you, only for him to glance down and look right back at you with a smile dangling on the corner of his lips. The sun softly caressed his face. In that very moment, you realize he wasn't talking about the view of the sunrise keeping him, but of you. You smile back at him.
"Do you wanna paint or something?" you say as you look away.
"Paint? Yes, actually I enjoy drawing. Maybe I'll finally impress you for a change." he says as he fully lays his head on a pillow looking up to the ceiling.
You tilted your head to one side while listening.
"Is there glitter in your ceiling paint?" he propped himself up onto his elbows.
"Yeah actually. I bought it as a joke and I ended up loving how it looks. Around noon when the sun fully shines in here it looks amazing." you stand looking up.
"If you don't mind, I'd love to see that," he says sitting up.
"I do not mind, it's nice having company. I just hope I'm not too boring." you give him a small wink.
"Come, we can hang out in here or on the balcony." you reach out for his hand.
He reached out for your hand and stood upright in front of you. This time you catch the smell of his cologne. It's soft on his skin but its lingering scent makes little butterflies form in your stomach.
-
"You sure you don't want a sweater, I'm sure I have an oversized hoodie. Or we can always go inside to do this." you look over at him and he's really focused on his drawing.
Without looking he says, "I actually don't mind it, I run kinda hot. Especially after I got the serum, I don't get cold. I also can't get drunk my body just burns it off." he looks up from his drawing almost as if he's making sure he's getting your features right. He immediately glances around your apartment trying to find something to direct his concentration.
"Wait, are you drawing me?" you laugh trying to look at his work.
"What makes ask that?" he asks as he lifts the notebook to his chest.
"I just don't wanna feel bad for selling it online," you joke as you go back to drawing.
...
Y/N POV
*Keeping your focus on your drawing you notice in your peripherals him glancing at you every so often trying his best not to make it obvious*
Is he looking at me the way I think he is or do I need to cool it? He is so kind, he's funny, he understands me and my humor. The way he looks at me is nothing like I've ever felt. I was in love before wasn't I? Is this love? It's a crazy thought I know. Maybe what was believed to be love wasn't that at all. Maybe I wished it so much I believed it. I haven't felt embarrassed or bashful at his stares. He wants to spend time with me. I don't have to be to have his attention, he in a way demands it. Is he just being nice to me? Am I reading too much into it? What is this that I feel?
...
"I'm kinda hungry, Do you wanna stay for lunch?" you say as you close your doodle-filled notebook. You look over at him still focused on his drawing.
"I'd love to, are we ordering in or cooking something up? I'm fine with both." he finally looks up at you looking for a response.
The sky has a soft gloom and a gentle cool breeze that passes by every few moments is making your curtains dance.
"This weather is making me want to curl up on the couch if I'm being honest." you look out to the city.
"How about I make us sandwiches and we can order dinner in? Again, only if you'll have me." he flashes a grin.
"Umm yeah that actually sounds nice." you lean forward pressing the notebook between your arms and your thighs.
"I'm told I make a mean sandwich." he leans forward smiles so intensely at you. He hands you the notebook and gets up out of his chair.
You look down at the drawing and it's you. Sitting on the chair looking out over the balcony. His artwork made you see yourself through his eyes. You look beautiful. Anytime you looked in a mirror, you thought of nothing. You believed not having thoughts on your appearance was better than having negative thoughts. Before you can say anything he's already walking back inside your apartment. You sit there looking at the drawing. Looking at his drawing made you almost tear up 1. Because you see yourself in beauty and 2. That's what he sees. He stops right at the door and looks back at you admiring it. He bites his lip and shakes his head. He chuckles to himself before heading inside.
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Text
HOME
(All We Have: Part One)
Part Two
Colson x Female Reader
Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together
Word count: 1,580
Feels: Friendship Fluff for now
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed
Companion playlist:
Machine Gun Kelly - Home
Sia - Dressed in Black 
The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends
A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️
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It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.
Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.
He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.
______
2019
You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.
"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"
"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"
You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you
" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"
You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"
Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again
"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"
Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"
You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"
He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.
He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"
You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought
He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,
"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"
You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.
He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.
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From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you
Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.
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"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode
You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"
“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”
You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”
Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”
Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”
Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”
Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,
“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”
Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.
“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor
“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes
It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.
There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.
Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.
As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…
Home.
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______
❌❌ Lace up!
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existslikepristin · 3 years
Text
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Well this one was... interesting. And it's the end of my Kinktober! Honestly, I'm super impressed with everyone who did a story every day, whether they finished or not. I only went with one a week and it was still rough.
Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Sounds, Dreamcatcher, Oh My Girl, Gahyeon, Yooa, Kinktober!, me trying to understand the assignment, armpit sex, sadomasochism, yeah you read those last two tags right, idk I think it turned out okay
Kinktober Week 4
Kinktober Week 4: Sadomasochism + Armpits (Rolls by Guimma & Peach respectively)
"I understand the words you're saying individually. But they don't make sense together." Handong squinted. "Are you sure you’re not just going insane?"
"Look… I promised I'd do whatever she wanted for the last day of Kinktober. And I owe her a favor."
"This Kinktober shit has been real weird. What could she have possibly done to justice this as the return favor?"
"Don't be so judgemental about it. Just don't come into the room for a while, okay?"
Handong rolled off the top bunk and walked to the door. "Whatever. Just don't come to me about it after you've been traumatized."
* * *
Yooa laid on her side on Gahyeon’s bed, fully naked, propped up on a pillow, and shivering. Gahyeon was just taking off the last of her clothes. She tossed her bra to the side.
"Want a blanket?"
"Sure," Yooa said, "if you cuddle me under it."
Gahyeon smirked. "That's going to make this pretty hard. I just meant to cover your legs or something."
Yooa tapped her puffy lips in thought. "Makes sense. Will you cuddle me after?"
"Of course. Let me just…" Gahyeon unfolded one of the blankets at the foot of the bed, layering it over Yooa's legs. "Alright. Now then—”
Before she could finish, Yooa already flipped her arm up over her head. Her pit was shockingly hairy. Gahyeon knew that was the point, but she didn't know how the stylists at WM let that go for so long. It was at least an inch long and very noticeable. Even stranger was that it was only the one armpit that was hairy
"Oh my god, I can't even tell you how exciting this is." Yooa's mouth was split into a crazed grin. Gahyeon loved the eagerness. She'd seen it thirty times already that month, and the thirty-first was just as fun. Letting people express their repressed kinks was a reward in itself, whether she got off on it or not.
"I hope you’re ready then," she said as she stirred the wax to check its consistency, "because I'm excited too."
The preparations were complete. Gahyeon slid the end table with the wax melter right next to the bed and climbed up to straddle Yooa's hip. She took a moment to grind her clit against it. Yooa groaned and stroked Gahyeon’s chest.
"Is it weird to say 'thank you' for this?"
Gahyeon leaned down to moan her response into Yooa's ear. "I'd be offended if you didn't."
The two giggled and Gahyeon turned Yooa's head a little further to give her a series of light kisses. When she sat back up, Yooa's eyes remained closed and her lips still moved as if she was expecting more. Gahyeon could barely contain herself. Much like her own, she recognized that Yooa's lips were a national treasure, and the thought of spending more time with them was incredibly tempting, but there would be more time for that later. She had a deep dark desire to satisfy.
"Mmm, thank you then, Gahyeon." Yooa smiled contentedly.
The wax oozed off the application stick and back into the pot. It reminded Gahyeon a little bit of lube in that way, though significantly more viscous. She tried not to take too long admiring it. Yooa wasn't a regular sub of hers and she didn't want to keep her waiting. She tested the heat on her wrist and got to work.
With a strip in one hand, Gahyeon ran the stick down the middle of Yooa's armpit with the other. She pressed the strip against the thin pool of wax, trapping the thin hair inside and leaving about a centimeter of hair uncovered to either side. "Not too hot?" she asked to double check.
Yooa shook her head. "It's perfect."
Something about the phrase sparked the inspiration in Gahyeon's mind.
"Good." Gahyeon closed her fingers around some of the unwaxed hair and yanked up. Yooa yelped and dug her head into the pillow, but she still smiled, now through clenched teeth. The skin underneath looked ever so slightly inflamed. Gahyeon figured she should probably be a little bit gentler. Armpits were unfamiliar territory.
Gahyeon turned Yooa’s face upward again. “Having fun?”
Yooa nodded and puckered her lips again, wordlessly asking for another kiss. Gahyeon happily obliged. After all, the wax needed a couple of minutes to set according to the instructions. Presumably a little less since they weren’t waxing the entire pit at once, but still enough for a flash-in-the-pan make out. The whole time, Gahyeon made sure to keep tugging at the exposed hair and poking the flesh beneath with her sharpened nails. It was definitely an odd thing to be doing, but Yooa’s tiny cheeps of pain directly into her mouth were extremely entertaining.
After what was definitely longer than the recommended time, Gahyeon pulled back, gazing down into the dreamy half-lidded look Yooa gave back to her and the open mouth still connected to hers by a thin strand of spit. She pinched the end of the waxing strip and ripped it away before Yooa could process what was happening.
As expected of an idol, having likely endured this very torture countless times, Yooa’s reaction was minimal. She winced and shut her eyes tight, squeezing out one tear from each. But that’s why they’d left room for two more strips to clean the whole pit up.
The rest of the procedure was much the same, and relatively silent. Wax, strip, kiss, rip, as if everything was perfectly normal, wax, strip, kiss, rip.
Three such waxes in such a short period of time seemed to be the key. Yooa’s whole body shook, acting almost like Gahyeon’s vibrator. It was a reflexive muscle reaction to the consistent pain, vaguely similar to what would happen to someone as they orgasmed. Her tears flowed a bit more freely, and she was starting to sweat. She kicked her feet back and forth under the blanket. It was the kind of adorable that lit Gahyeon’s fire.
Gahyeon pushed Yooa’s elbow down behind her head and scooted up further, trapping Yooa’s neck between her thighs. It was among the most unusual things she’d ever considered doing, but at the same time it felt so right to grind her clit against Yooa’s lightly pink armpit. After all, it couldn’t get any smoother or softer than freshly waxed.
“Keep that beautiful mouth busy, Yooa,” she said, and maneuvered one knee a little higher so her leg was in front of Yooa’s face.
The hint was obvious enough, it seemed. Yooa’s still-trembling lips locked onto the inside of Gahyeon’s thigh and alternated licking and sucking in a small area. In the moment, it was the perfect compliment to the pussy-to-pit pressure.
Gahyeon kept her voice low and sensual. “That’s good, baby... Your armpit feels so good.”
Yooa snuck her free arm between their bodies to masturbate. Though Gahyeon kept her focus on Yooa’s face, she could still hear the sound of Yooa’s cunt and all its juices being played with.
Gahyeon had a free arm as well, and with it she reached back to palm Yooa’s tits. These, she was more familiar with. In fact, it wasn’t even the first time she’d had the opportunity to feel Yooa’s, specifically. Memories of groping the incredibly round, firm, perfectly hand-size boobs in much less private contexts swarmed Gahyeon’s mind.
As she felt climax approaching however, Gahyeon’s thoughts shifted to the absurdity of what she was doing. It looked, and to a certain degree felt, like she was humping a pillow. In this case, a very literal body pillow. But this particular pillow was warm, absolutely gorgeous, and humped back. She’d have laughed, but the thought was cut short by a hard nip on her inner thigh.
Gahyeon, ever the sadist, was still able to appreciate a little pain herself. And appreciate it she did. “Fuck! Yooa, I’m cu—” Her breath hitched and she doubled over, squeezing Yooa in what had to be an uncomfortable way, but there was no stopping it. Her pussy clenched around nothing, leaking more than a little extra fluid over Yooa’s armpit. Stars flashed in front of her briefly but she quickly shook them away to stare into Yooa’s eyes while she rode her climax out against the inflamed axilla.
The orgasm didn’t put out Gahyeon’s fire though. She dropped down, sliding herself underneath the blanket, but keeping Yooa’s arm locked over her head. The pit was shaped just so that it held on to a little puddle of Gahyeon’s cum, which she licked up and kept in her mouth. It tasted a bit different than usual, but that was no surprise considering its location.
Seeming to catch on to what Gahyeon had in mind, Yooa shifted underneath her until they were face to face, breasts and stomachs pressed against each other, and opened her mouth, ready to receive. Their tongues twisted over each other, spreading those few drops of cum and pit sweat between each other.
It was time to give Yooa that cuddling she wanted.
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Text
COSMIC - S1:E1; Chapter One, The Vanishing of Will Byers - [Pt. 2]
A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series
𝘖𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.
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|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
The boys and I finally make it to school; my legs are always exhausted by the time we reach the student drop off.
I hear the bell ring when we park our bikes.
"That's weird. I don't see him." Mike finally says what we've all been thinking. 'Where the hell is Will?' Personally, I'm starting to get really worried.
As if catching onto my growing worries, Lucas chimes in.
"I'm telling you. His mom's right. He probably just went to class early again."
I always admired how Lucas can always be so optimistic with stuff like this; always thinking logically. He's really good at keeping the party level-headed. I tend to worry a lot so it's nice to have a friend like Lucas to keep my feet on the ground.
"Yeah, he's always paranoid Gursky's gonna give him another pop quiz."
"Well, I don't blame him. Gursky gives me pop quizzes all the time, and it's exhausting. Never knowing when you will be put on the spot" I say.
"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen."
'Oh just perfect. Troy and his goon'
"Step right up and get your tickets for the freak show," Troy says smugly.
I click my tongue and shake my head in a mocking tone.
"Oh, sorry guys but we actually can't make it today. By any chance, can we catch your act tomorrow?" I bat my eyelashes at them in innocence, the comment earning a few chuckles from Lucas, Mike, and Dustin.
Troy's face scrunched up in anger, clearly offended by my comeback.
"Hey, no one asked you, shithead!"
I roll my eyes at his cheap insult. However, the boys were having none of it, especially Dustin, as usual. They get into a threatening stance, while Dustin tries to lunge for them, but I put my arm out to stop them before they can even do anything.
"Guys, just ignore them. It doesn't matter to me. They're not even worth it."
Troy and his puppet James only seem amused.
"So who do you think would make more money in a freak show anyway?" Troy continues.
"Midnight," he punches Lucas. I clench my fists, my chest already burning with anger.
"Frogface," he punches Mike, and my jaw tightens so tight it threatens to lock.
"Orphan" he punched me. I took a deep breath trying to control my anger.
"Or toothless?" He shoves Dustin.
It's taking everything in me not to tackle him right now. I've always been like this. Whenever someone insults me, I'm able to brush it off, but as soon as someone goes after the people I care about, I lose it. Big time.
His goon sighs and holds his hand to his chin as he pretends to think about it while he looks at all of us. He then stops at Dustin and singles him out, in a voice that's clearly supposed to be Dustin's.
"I'd go with Toothless." My nails are probably drawing blood from my palms at this point.
"I told you a million times, my teeth are coming in. It's called cleidocranial dysplasia." Dustin says.
"I th'old you a million th'imes" he continues.
"Screw you," I shout, lunging for him. But before I could ever actually reach him, Dustin pulls me back, stopping me as I had him.
"Y/n, you were right. They aren't worth it."
They just laugh smugly in response. I grit my teeth and cross my arms.
"Do the arm thing."
"Do it, freak!"
"OH, I swear to GOD," I go to charge at him but Mike pulls me back and pats my back trying to calm me down. I glare daggers at the boys in front of me. I swear I'm seeing red and it feels as if my blood is literally boiling in veins.
"Y/n it's fine. Look, here," he sighs tiredly, putting down his backpack and taking off his jacket. He then extends his arms out and you can hear his bones crack. He then looks to the bullies pointedly and says, "There, I did it. Will you leave us alone now?"
The bullies groan in disgust and Troy says, "UGH. It gets me every time!" They laugh, shoving us aside roughly and walk away.
"Assholes," Lucas beat me to it.
"I think it's kinda cool," Mike offers, looking at Dustin. "It's like you have superpowers or something. Like Mr. Fantastic."
"Yeah, except I can't fight evil with it."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
{Trigger Warning for Anxiety Attacks}
Troy and his friend had just left us alone, so the four of us began making our way to class. As we walk through the hallways, the three of them end up side by side by side next to each other while caught up in their conversation which at this point, had drifted to planning our next campaign. Normally I'd be all over it but I found myself drifting back and keeping to myself, my thoughts wandering to Will.
'I really hope he's okay. Ya know what? No, Lucas is right, as usual, he's got to be at class by now. He has to be.'
I try to push all the negative thoughts to the back of my mind as I try and focus on getting to the classroom as soon as possible just to prove to myself he's okay and I'm just overreacting. The four of us approach Mr. Clarke's room and I run ahead, no longer able to wait another second. I pop my head in the door and to my great dismay, he is nowhere to be seen. I take a deep breath, and stumble back, that familiar viscous feeling of a pit in my stomach. My anxiety is kicking in.
The boys look to each other in silence, all thinking the same thing.
'This is bad. Will would never skip. And he's not at home, so something must be very wrong.'
Before the boys get the chance to say anything, I slip away and walk quickly down the hall to the bathroom, my arms tucked into my sides defensively while my head is down. I always run to the bathroom to be alone when I have an anxiety attack. I can't be around people when it's this bad so I usually end up sitting in the stall, trying to calm down. The guys know I have anxiety attacks like this sometimes and I know they want to help, but they don't know how and that's fine.
When I reach the familiar stall, I slam it shut and sit on the edge of the seat and put my face in my hands as my elbows are propped up on my knees. My breathing is ragged and my eyes become soaked in tears as panic takes over my body. That familiar feeling of nausea returning. The endless 'what ifs' begin flooding my mind.
'What if he got hit by a car on his way home?'
'What if he got kidnapped?'
'What if... he's dead?'
Just the thought of never seeing my best friend ever again makes me wail. I'm rocking back and forth hugging my torso when I remember I have to take deep breaths or I might pass out. I try to remember to tell myself that I don't have all the information and that there has got to be some sort of explanation for all of this.
That it's just my anxiety talking. It's just brain noise. I just need to learn how to manage it.
I spend the next few minutes focusing on taking deep breathes, and after what feels like hours, I am finally breathing normally again.
I grab my bag which had been thrown to the ground during my attack and exit the stall. I stand in front of the mirror washing my hands and I look at my eyes which are now totally swollen from crying.
I reach down and splash some water on my face, and rub my eyes. Getting the remainder of the water off with a paper towel. As I look at my slightly improved reflection I take another deep breath and head to class. Pretending everything's normal and I hadn't just had a meltdown in the bathroom, as usual.
I pick up my pace as I shrug my shoulders to secure my backpack so it doesn't fall. I was lucky I was able to come down from my attack as quickly as I did because it seems I wasn't late like last time. It looks like I made it with just a minute to spare. I walk over to where the party and I usually sit. I think twice before sitting down next to Dustin.
I know at this point the boys are aware of the state I'm in judging by the looks of sympathy they are giving me. The state of my eyes and the fact I didn't take my normal seat next to Will's probably gave me away. I decided to take the seat in front of my usual so I don't have stare at Will's empty seat and be worrying all class. So as they say, out of sight out of mind. While waiting for class to start I try and think of different things to keep my mind off of Will, and my mind wanders the new Heathkit ham shack that was supposed to have come today.
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