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#(<- me about my own character that i created and wrote myself)

drchucktingle · 1 year

Note

Something I’ve been curious about if it wouldn’t break the bit: are you one buckaroo or several sharing a name and persona?

greetings bud thank you for asking FIRST OF ALL want to say to you or anyone reading this post that i am not upset over this question and i am not upset with you. you have kindness in your trot and i know you are just asking to prove love in your own way. buds reading this please do not harass this person in fact maybe give them a follow or a like, they are trying their best.

OKAY NOW THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY i will talk on my feelings of this with simple statement:

this is not a bit.

i understand it can be difficult to accept this for some, especially in world where absurdity and cynical humor is so popular, but i am very sincere. even though i make jokerman jokes sometimes, even in my writing, tinglers are not supposed to be funny as a concept. if you laugh at them that is TOTALLY OKAY i understand this way when confronted with something out of the box but that is not the point of them at all. the point is that LOVE IS REAL for everyone (there are other points but that is a broad one)

now on to why i trot my trot in this way. first off is to protect my privacy this is simple enough. when i talk on son jon or sweet barbara or any other way i am adding a layer of secrets by changing names or relations or towns but that is just a fancy outfit for the real truth. i am NOT creating a character, i am protecting myself.

second and more important is that when i TALK IN MY UNIQUE WAY i am expressing myself without masking, which is something old chuck does every single day out there in the world as someone on the autism spectrum. i am VERY GOOD AT MASKING you would probably not know chuck was autistic when talking to me unless you were a close bud. but unfortunately this masking way creates very real tension in my body. i have trotted with CHRONIC PAIN for most of my life heading to emergency rooms where kind and handsome t-rex doctors could not figure out what the heck was goin on. basically LIVED in the dang emergency room. eventually chuck learned i carried my body TOO TIGHT from masking all the time, but what i realized is that allowing myself a space to type freely without way of punctuation or other restrictions and LETTING MY HEART SING to just be myself without masking made this tension release. pain started going away. GRAND IRONY of course is that when im trotting as chuck i wear a pink mask to take off my OTHER MASK of a neurotypical bud.

that is why i protect my way of speaking freely as well. if someone says 'well you need to talk like this right now' i stand tall and say NO BUD THIS IS MY SPACE AND I WILL EXPRESS MYSELF IN THIS WAY AND YOU AN TROT ON IF YOU WANT. this is firm boundary for me and my health.

anyway buckaroo to sum that up again: yes i am one person and this is not a bit

if you want to know more about my way on the autism spectrum i wrote a tingler about how it feels to have others say you are 'playing a character' and not actually neurodivergent. i think tumblr buds might enjoy so i will add it down here LOVE IS REAL thank you for your question

NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS

#chuck tingle #character #neruodivergent #masking #autism #autism spectrum #tingleverse #love is real #tingler #good talks with buds #buckaroo lifestyle

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

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◜ mk1 men when they get hard in public because of you ◞

▸ characters: bi-han, liu kang, tomas, johnny cage, syzoth ◂

▸ tags: drabble, nsfw, possession, dominance, submission, invisibility, semi-public (kinda), pet names, & more! couldn’t help myself and wrote about mk1 men once again. enjoy! ◂ ▸ m.

BI HAN doesn’t like it even a bit. he’s not a weak man, and he shouldn’t be - has to stay still, calm, and steady in every situation, yes, he can let his anger go from time to time but except for it, he can’t let any feelings go away from his palms, to appear, to control him.

yet, here he is, leaning against the wall, watching you from behind as you train alone in the lin kuei’s training area - bending over, showing every curve of your body, with no shyness and no holding back even though you know he’s right there! he knows you tease him, that you don’t pay attention to him intentionally while doing every position you can as naughty as you can.

hands crossed across his chest, face is covered with his mask - doesn’t give away how he breaths deeply whenever he holds himself from going to your side and fucking you right there - in the middle of lin kuei, making everyone watching you.

the bulge is visible through his black and blue armored suit, but, he doesn’t give a damn fuck about it. contrary to that, he enjoys having it because after a moment, when he is done with your teasing, he picks you up, takes you into his room, and pushes you into the bed as he hovers upon you - lust and dominance rising within him as well as the coldness that he’s body creates on its own because of how you made him turn on in the public, breaking his norms, making him weak. he has to punish you for that.

putting your hand on his crotch, he makes you feel how turned on he is.

“do you feel it? it’s because of you. acting so bratty in front of me, making me watch you, giving me a fucking bulge. you made me have it in public. you have no idea how much it pissed me off - such a greedy brat. will teach you a lesson then, maybe you will learn how to only open your legs wide when you’re alone. if you don’t obey, I will fuck you in front of everyone. as your grandmaster, it’s my responsibility to make sure you act accordingly to the rules.”

LIU KANG has great stability, never showing his true feelings, keeping his face straight except for two things; one, rolling his eyes whenever johnny’s ego goes high, and two, you.

he can’t help it - he tries though, believe it, he tries his best yet you break every wall he has as staying calm and unreadable. to others, he is still unreadable but to you, he isn’t because you see him purely and entirely unlike others, and you know how to push his buttons - the god of fire himself by acting so innocent while showing him your dirty side.

it doesn’t matter what you do to become dirty; from holding your window wide open when he passes by and taking your clothes off, to simply putting dishes on the table in front of him while sitting with others as well, bending over to him so lower that he can see the sight of your breasts - wearing no bra, and even winking at him.

he talks little in those moments, watching you from the corner of his eyes, pushing the desire to fuck you on that table down, waiting until everyone leaves, holding you by the wrist, pulling you onto his lap, making you feel his hardened cock on your ass.

whispering into your ear, his hands travel your body.

“you know how to push even a god’s buttons, princess. but making it in public? oh, you need to learn not to do that, or, I will make sure that you won’t do it again by fucking you on this table where anyone can see. now, let me take you to a more special place. you should take care of my cock after all, with these pretty breasts you showed me.”

TOMAS will definitely try to hide it right away, a bit shy, yet dirty thoughts rushing into his mind when he sees you training - having a little cloth on your body; a bra, and a mini shorts, your body is entirely visible to his eyes.

he knows he shouldn’t take it as an attempt to make him turn on but he realizes your intentions turn from innocent ones to evil when you see him looking at you directly, gulping, a hand stays on his lap, hiding the bulge underneath his clothes, face full of heat because of not having his mask on.

he avoids your eyes immediately, looking at you from the corner of his eyes in a shy way, staying still on the chair he’s sitting on and trying to pay attention to other trainers when he sees you coming to his side, kneeling down - hands on your knees, you ask what’s wrong and from the way you speak, he understands that you’re being a brat.

however, even though he is shy, he doesn’t stop himself from being as needy as you.

“I know what you’re trying to do, yet, it will not create a difference. trying to break me in public is something and you achieved it, I am so turned on that I fantasize about you in ways I shouldn’t have in public. but who I am to blame when you’re being so greedy for me? don’t worry though my goddess, being a good lover for you, I will do my best to fuck you good enough after we get back to our room that you will see your effects on me.”

JOHNNY CAGE will not try to hide it, not even for a second. he doesn’t care about what other people would think when they see a bulge rising under his pants, or how he puts his hand on it, caressing it under the table when he’s sure no one is looking, a smirk on his face as he watches you dance on the floor, giving him a goddamn show - you move your body so beautifully, only for his eyes to see, it makes him turn on the moment you take glances to his direction.

he can see you try not to alert others while showing off your body to him while dancing.

he will say ‘damn’ and drink his favorite liquor, watching you with pleasure, saying ‘it’s nothing’ when others ask what he’s talking about.

when he has enough, he will join you on the dance floor. under the dark lights and in the corner he chooses - less crowded, he puts his hand on your abdomen, pulling your body to his.

back touching his chest, you let his other hand grips your inner thigh under your dress, lip touching your ear as he says with a playful and cheerful voice, pushing his lower part onto your ass so that you can feel how hard he is full.

“feel it, princess? see, this is you making me go so hard in a fucking place like this, in front of everyone, by just dancing. such a naughty little girl you are for me, showing off your skills. ohh, pretty lady, you have no idea how I want to fuck you in one of the guest rooms - oh, and you know what - for this ass, will sure do it. come here, gotta go, you should pay for what you have done to me.”

SYZOTH turns invisible right away when he has enough, getting up from where he sits, eyes not leaving yours as he finds a corner and becomes invisible.

no one can see him - only you who chuckles at his lack of self-control when it comes to you, especially when you make his mind go crazy in the middle of a meeting with others. having no actual job, you just mind your own business until you see how syzoth watches you from a distance, eyes never leaving you as you eat a very juicy fruit, licking your fingers to clean them, slowly, showing how skilled your tongue is which was on him and his entire body, including his cock, a night before as you look up to his heat rushed face, chuckling at him seductively, making him feel submissive yet dominant at the same time.

when the memories rush into his mind, he finds only escape in being invisible but he knows you shouldn’t get away with that so easily, so, when others pay attention to other things and you stay alone, he stays behind you as you sit. then, he slowly appears, dick that is hard enough to be felt through the fabric of his clothes touching your back. he holds your shoulders, kneeling down, he whispers to your ears.

“I see that you didn’t have enough of me last night or you just did all of that to make me go crazy, wanting to eat you alive in front of everyone and staying invisible while doing it. oh my pretty lover, if you keep doing this, it will be the only option for me to make you regret having me hard in here, where anyone can see it. maybe, I will not wait for you to act behaved and fuck you right here, now. hm? what you say, my goddess?”

💚

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popopretty · 5 months

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[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel

Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.

This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.

The translation is under the cut, thank you!

It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.

Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?

This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).

Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.

It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.

Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.

Let me reminisce a little bit here.

This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.

Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.

But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.

A proper, professional story.

Huh?

My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.

What is a proper story?

The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.

Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.

Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.

A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.

In other words, a proper emotion.

I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.

There was nothing but emptiness there.

A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.

And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.

It is supposed to be that kind of job.

Yet I became unable to move forward.

A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?

How do I find that emotion?

I mean, how did I even write novels until now?

I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.

I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.

What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?

I felt a chill plunging into my back.

Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.

I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.

It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.

I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.

At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”

The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.

At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.

Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.

That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.

I came to realize.

It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.

Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.

Well then.

It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.

Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.

He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.

He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?

During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.

Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.

And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.

This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.

This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.

Well then, see you in the next story.

Asagiri Kafka.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #the day i picked up dazai #traánlation

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scoobydoodean · 4 months

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what is your opinion on people calling dean a heavy misogynist? i don’t agree personally but i feel like you could put my thoughts into better words

First, I have to chuckle a little at "heavy misogynist". Apparently, some people have begun to realize their fave is also guilty of misogyny crimes therefore they focus on making sure all of us know Sam is a light misogynist and Dean is a heavy misogynist. I just find that amusing.

This is a broad topic in a long show, so I won't endeavor to address every conceivable incidence of misogyny in the show I can think of. Instead, I'm going to create a few headings, at least one of which I think most criticism falls under.

Misogyny through the writing team

How Sam's misogyny gets a pass

Purity culture wank and Dean performing for Sam

How Dean actually treats women

Misogyny Through The Writing Team

First, Supernatural in of itself has issues with misogyny—as in, the writers of the show (including female writers) have issues with misogyny which they are happy to put on display semi-frequently. The show started in 2005, during a period of time where casual sexism was absolutely rampant on TV and no one thought anything about it. Female celebrities were regularly mocked and dragged on cable television in a way men simply weren't. They were called bitches and skanks and whores, and even "progressive" voices were inundated with casual misogyny and a fixation on purity culture (that largely applied to women only). Quite simply, I think fandom tends to be far too generous toward the writers, assuming certain things were "flaws" the writers intentionally wrote for the characters.

Put another way, there are some criticisms I prefer to level at the writing team rather than the characters, because what is written plainly reflects their ignorance in the real world rather than any intent to give Sam or Dean or any other character meaningful flaws—much less outright terrible ones that greatly harm their image. I'll give a few examples:

2.17 "Heart" makes me very uncomfortable as I sit here in 2024 and observe how Sam and Madison's romance develops. Me feeling that way does not mean the authorial intent of 2007 Sera Gamble was that I think to myself, "Man Sam comes off as uncomfortably rapey here." Hopelessly bad with women, perhaps—but not creepy.

In season 2, the writers begin to develop a running “joke” that Sam is afraid of not just clowns but also little people. The latter “joke” is (wisely) dropped fairly quickly. I have never criticized Sam for being afraid of little people, and I never will. It is readily apparent to me that this running "joke" reflects the ignorance of the writing team rather than an intent to give Sam meaningful or interesting flaws. Their intent was to use little people as the butt of a joke. I personally find this "joke" distasteful, and the idea of trying to take that and somehow "dunk" on Sam for the bigotry of the writers is more distasteful to me.

This is also how I feel about the running "joke" of a porn magazine and website (BAB) that solely features Asian women, that is put on display on multiple occasions during the show—first in 2.15 "Tall Tales", where the context is Gabriel infecting Sam's laptop with a virus from the website and making him believe Dean is responsible. BAB continues to make "Easter Egg" appearances in the show afterward. While often associated with Dean by fandom, the writers clearly think of BAB as a general, "funny" (it isn't), running gag with no more depth than "haha men like porn funny". An issue is stolen by a sentient teddy bear in 4.08 "Wishful Thinking". An issue is owned by the teenager who swapped bodies with Sam in 5.12 "Swap Meat". The Men of Letters also collected a considerable number of issues (8.17). I simply do not believe the writers thought for a single moment about BAB being a grossly racist gag. They most certainly did not write it as an intentional criticism of Dean from that perspective. It reflects nothing but their ignorance and racism here in the real world, and absolutely SHOULD be criticized from that REAL WORLD impact.

How Sam's misogyny largely gets a pass

One of the things I have not been able to stop noticing on this rewatch is Sam's issues with misogyny, and how often Sam's misogyny comes out in conflicts with Dean... starting from the very first episode of the show. Pretty much any time you get anything that feels like it might be a misogynist Dean or horn dog Dean moment... Sam either just has or is about to follow that up with some misogyny of his own.

In 1.01, right after entering Sam's apartment and meeting Jess, Dean mentions the Smurfs on Jess's shirt. We think to ourselves "Okay. A little misogynist... a little horn-dog Dean." Sam is happy to 1-Up that in two ways. First, Jess voices her intentions to go get dressed. Dean dismisses this, but while doing so, makes it clear he intends to leave the room with Sam, as he'd like to have a private conversation with Sam anyway. Sam objects, walking over to Jess and putting an arm around her, demanding Dean say whatever he needs to say right then and there. Maybe this would feel supportive if Jess wasn't in her underwear and hadn't just made it clear that now that the panic over a possible break-in is over, she'd really like to not be in her underwear in front of a stranger. But nope. By god she needs to stand there so Sam can prove a point about misogynist Dean! Second, Sam immediately (and I think quite erroneously) jumps to imply Dean is trying to cut Jess out of the conversation because she's... a woman? Or... something? He makes a big show of moving over Jess and standing beside her, saying anything Dean has to say, he can say in front of Jess. However, the moment Sam actually understands that Dean is here because John is missing on a hunting trip, he dismisses Jess to speak to Dean alone... because he's lying to her. By painting Dean erroneously with this "The men are talking" bullshit that had nothing to do with anything, Sam sets himself up to be viewed as a misogynist by his own framing of the situation and what it means to leave Jess out of a discussion. He also reveals his own alleged principles as a performative illusion. Despite being his intended life partner, Sam never intends to tell the woman he loves about his past as a hunter (he makes this clear later on the bridge). However, I think because Sam's actions usually co-occur with what gets called out more directly or more immediately recognized as misogyny from Dean (should have gotten him for the Smurf's comment, Sam!) Sam's misogyny often flies under the radar... and he's really... pretty bad.

I spoke here at length about how Sam tends to look down on women who interact with Dean (often before meeting them). There is absolutely an intersection with purity culture here and there's discussion in that thread about that as well, and whether this is a "2000s writers" issue or intentionally written flaws.

In 1.06, Sam cuts Dean off before Dean can accept an offered beer from Rebecca, but then as soon as Sam needs Rebecca out of the room, Sam asks her to not just bring them those beers... but also fix them sandwiches. Rebecca says, "What do you think this is, Hooters?" and Dean mumbles, "I wish" and we somehow lose sight of the fact that Sam literally just asked a woman to make him sandwiches which is possibly the number one misogynist man trope. Sam vaguely suggests Dean is a misogynist in 1.19 for nudging Sam to go on a date with Sarah Blake and possibly get information on the case, because that would be "using" her, but Sam wants to "use" Meg Masters in 1.22 and he wants to "use" Ruby to get what he wants, and when he said getting information from women was "Dean's job", he was also showing he was perfectly willing to use Dean and Sarah—he just doesn't want to get his hands dirty. It also comes to light in 1.19 that this is more about Sam's belief that he has to protect women from him, and Sarah herself ends up calling Sam antiquated for it.

I mentioned before that Sam doesn't plan to ever tell Jess who he is, and he makes the same plans with Amelia. Dean, meanwhile, confides in Cassie (it's what leads to their breakup) as well as Lisa.

I also have to mention... one of the funniest things I see deancrit samgirls in particular dig at time after time after time is Dean calling women "bitches". Never mind that Sam also calls women like Ruby and Bela bitches and calls a woman a bitch in front of Madison. Apparently none of these occurrences count because... *looks at notes* reasons. "Bitch" only counts as misogyny when it's Dean saying it. Also, let's not mention that Sam exclusively uses the word "bitch" to refer to women, while Dean also calls men and creatures bitches at different points so it isn't a gender specific insult for him.

Dean is definitely the "heavy" misogynist here... right? (I guess Sam is a "tall" misogynist instead).

Purity culture wank and Dean performing for Sam

Dean is commonly treated in fandom as if he's some kind of sex pest, and quite blatantly... he isn't one. Women almost always proposition Dean first (thejabberwock has sets on this here and here), but him asking people out also isn't inherently creepy in any way? Co-occurring with Sam's purity culture inundated judgements, we often see fandom's own as well, where Dean is some kind of sex pest because he... likes women? Or... because he has sex with consenting women who also want to have sex with him? Sometimes it's giving purity culture wank, sometimes it's given big radfem energy... but regardless, I sometimes see people talk about Dean like him so much as making eye contact with a woman is a violent sexual threat, and that's just laughable—as is denying the agency and autonomy of consenting women in general.

Even though it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, I'll also add that Dean... doesn't even actually have sex with the frequency that people talk about it? Dean has sex with Cassie—who was a long term partner of his in 1.13. He has sex with an actress in 2.18, and with Doublemint twins in 3.01. He has sex with a waitress 4.05. He plans to have sex with someone in 3.04, but turns her down when he realizes she's a prostitute who's working. This happens again in 10.07. I'm on season 4 of my rewatch and haven't been formally keeping up... but Dean is not actually having a lot of sex? We get implications he's been out partying a few times, and can maybe infer he scored, but we don't actually know.

I'm not a huge fan of performing Dean, in the sense that I think over the years I have seen it wildly overstated far too many times. But I do think Dean sometimes plays a character for Sam especially. Dean tells us this himself in 2.03 "Bloodlust" when confiding in Gordon. He never says so directly when it comes to the sexy sex guy doing sex persona, but his actions reveal him. One can think of plenty of examples of Dean saying horny stuff about women to Sam... but what about his actions?

How Dean actually treats women

Finally, there's how Dean actually treats women... and one would be very hard pressed to prove to me that Dean is sexist toward the women in his life. He's been close friends with multiple women and worked with women on hunts on multiple occasions and never once batted an eye. Jo in 2.06 is sometimes floated as an example, but it's actually discussed within the episode. Dean makes it very clear that he thinks women can do the job just fine. What he has a problem with is Jo's lack of experience and her romanticization of the job (especially during a period where Dean has fallen deeply out of love with the job himself). Everything we see as the series progresses supports Dean's assertion as truth. He's very good friends with Charlie, Jody, and Donna and doesn't go around excluding them on hunts while favoring men. That is not a thing that happens. While he initially tries to talk Claire out of the life (as he does everybody—this is not unique to women—see Adam for example) when she decides to hunt, he supports her regardless. There is nothing uniquely overprotective about how Dean treats women who hunt. End of. Dean has no illusions about traditional gender roles or any of that nonsense, jumping to clean dishes after dinner at Jody's and cooking breakfast for Lisa and Ben. (Our knowledge of Dean and the chores he does for his family already tell us this—but regardless). Even Demon Dean, an entity with no love for anyone and close to zero principles, targeted men who abuse and threaten women, and when Crowley ordered him to kill Lester's wife to fulfill the terms of Lester's demon deal, Demon Dean instead became so deeply annoyed with Lester's hypocrisy (he cheated on his wife first) and his assertion that it's different when men cheat, that he killed him and smiled while doing it.

So anyway, nope—I don't think Dean is a "heavy" misogynist.

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sailoryooons · 4 months

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I am going to say something that has really been bothering me that not everyone may agree with, which is totally okay, everyone is entirely valid to disagree with me: There is a fast fashion problem in fandom, specifically fanfiction.

Disclaimer: This conversation is not about broadly writing the same tropes, genres, and ideas. I am not talking about people writing fics with similar themes or the same name. I am specifically talking about people writing fics that are very obviously heavily influenced by other fics. This is not me talking about: I wrote __ character as enemies to lovers vampires and so did this person so they stole. Please do not trivialize this conversation with instances that are very obviously not what I'm talking about.

As someone who exists in the fanfiction space, I want to express what I have seen specifically in this space in my own experience, my mutuals experiences, and random experiences I have seen on my dash.

Recently, it seems like there is a reoccurring theme of writers (often new writers) taking "inspiration" from fanfics that they love and value and essentially creating their own version of that story to the point it is bordering on plagiarism. I say bordering on plagiarism because while people may not be copying line for line or entire scenes in order, you can tell that it is a re-arranged duplicate of another story.

I am not talking about writing similar tropes and dynamics. No one owns a trope or a dynamic. I am specifically talking about people taking the plots, scenes, concept and core of fanfics and recreating it and changing some plot elements or placing it in a different alternate universe and calling it their own, when at the heart of that fanfic, it is taken from someone else's creation.

This to me, reads like people who read a work, fall in love with it, but think 'this is easy to do, I can do this myself' and they end up making a replica of a fic that you can tell is a replica of another fic, despite adding some changes. Nine times out of ten, these inspired fics lack the obvious thought and heart the original writer put into it.

Which, begs the question: How is this different than fanfic writers taking inspiration from media (i.e. published books, movies, music, shows)? Because fanfiction is meant to replicate a specific something from published media. It is not meant to duplicate an already established fanfiction contribution.

I know that the nuance between that line is very ambiguous and it brings up the discourse on 'should there be fanfiction of fanfiction' - to which my response is it is, generally, pretty obvious what the difference between being inspired by a fic and copying a fic are.

In the last few months, I have lost count of how many times I or mutuals have a) discovered someone has been writing a story based off of their fic 2) have been asked to use an already written work to make their own or 3) already have started writing works modeled after an already written work and in hindsight asked the author if they could keep doing so (this third instance almost always happens after someone accuses them of stealing another work).

This feels like the fast fashion industry. Someone finds a story that is popular (whatever that means to the individual), takes all of the elements they think makes the story works, rearranges it, posts it as their own and and says they were 'inspired' (if they credit the original story at all).

This is why so many works that readers are coming across feel like they are the same thing. It is the same A + B + C = D over and over and over again, because people are outright just taking what they think works from other stories and using it.

Again - I am not talking about people who come across a trope, AU, genre or dynamic they like and add something similar to their story. I am talking about the people who are very intentionally and obviously writing the same exact fic with their own 'twist' (whatever that means).

Why is this a problem (beyond the fact that it's essentially roundabout plagiarism)? You're taking the heart, soul, and creativity someone poured into something and posting it on your own and robbing it of the originality, the essence, and the intention behind it. You cannot replicate a writer's feelings and obvious emotions that they have poured into the original work, and it shows. And it is gutting to the original authors who are finding remixes of their work across the fanfiction space.

Please consider whether or not you are inspired by a story or if you are redoing it in your own image. If you find yourself worried enough about your story that you feel like you have to publicly credit someone to avoid scrutiny, perhaps the question needs to be asked of whether you're just redoing what someone else already wrote.

Please do not confuse inspiration and recreation. 9 out of 10 authors will love that they inspired you to write, but would not love to find that you wrote a fic inspired by them that is a rearranged or hollowed-out version of the fic they wrote.

The fanfic space wants and needs more writers, but it does not need people unwilling to create their own art, instead taking bits and pieces from others and calling it a success.

Also adding: This problem also directly contributes to 'smaller' writers or more niche (often queer and bipoc) stories not getting the hype, readership, or recognition they deserve. On more than one occasion I've seen stories that had explicitly queer or bipoc characters taken and turned into heteronormative or white-presenting stories.

Note: This 1000% goes for actual visual art as well, including gifs etc. in fandom but I'm not well-versed there and thus, did not include it.

#i genuinely have very much like been pushed to the edge this week #and i feel like getting this off of my chest #and i don't think i am crazy but maybe i am #this is also a VERY broad rant of what i'm talking about and does not cover all the nuances of this

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tismrot · 7 months

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HOW FATAL IS YOUR GOOD OMENS BRAINROT ? a checklist

Give yourself a point for everything that applies to you.

LEVEL 1 [ ] I have seen both seasons.

[ ] I can name at least one character that isn’t Aziraphale or Crowley.

[ ] I know that Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman wrote the book. Points: [ ] of 3

---

LEVEL 2 [ ] I have seen both seasons more than once.

[ ] I know I can write “Aziraphale” without spelling it wrong. Bonus point if you have actually written the name anywhere, for any reason.

[ ] I have had a conversation about Good Omens with a person outside of the internet in the last 3 months. Points: [ ] of 3 + [ ] bonus points --- LEVEL 3 [ ] I experienced any negative feeling beyond "ouch, that sucks for them!" after the ending of season 2.

[ ] I have looked up anything related to Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, Michael Sheen or David Tennant in the last 3 months.

[ ] I know what #payyourwriters refers to.

[ ] I have had at least one (1) thought about Crowley or Aziraphale (or both). Bonus point if you told anyone (Tumblr counts).

[ ] I read the book before the show came out. Points: [ ] of 5 + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 4 [ ] I have seen both seasons more than three times and some scenes more than that.

[ ] Somebody watched Good Omens because of me. One extra point for each additional person!

[ ] I catch myself thinking about Good Omens when I should be thinking about other things.

[ ] I have listened to Queen more than I usually do during the last 3 months.

[ ] I have read or listened to the book (don’t have to have read/heard all of it for 1 point) after season 1. Points: [ ] of 5 + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 5 [ ] I have analyzed the lyrics of most of the songs and experienced moving emotions.

[ ] I have either made a new account or revived an unused account somewhere ONLY to browse Good Omens related media. One bonus point for each additional new/renewed account. (Renewed = you haven't touched it in at least 2 years)

[ ] I have watched at least 5 videos on YouTube about Good Omens.

[ ] I no longer blush while reading fics.

[ ] I have a stash of saved images on my phone/IG account/Pinterest/other I would very much not like anyone to see.

[ ] I have made any game character look like characters from the show. Three bonus points if you googled 'south downs cottages' while playing The Sims. Points: [ ] of 6 + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 6 [ ] I have genuine, tangible heartbreak due to Good Omens, and I have experienced heartbreak before - so I know what it feels like. (Friend/platonic/aro heartbreaks count, ofc.)

[ ] I have shared my support for the strikers multiple times.

[ ] I know more than I’d like to know about the anatomy of male snakes.

[ ] I have published Good Omens related media - fics, artwork, big metas (spent more than three hours researching/writing it), music, videos. Bonus point if this happened on a recently created or renewed account.

[ ] I have had dreams about something Good Omens-related. If this was a spicy dream, collect 3 extra points.

[ ] Things that shouldn’t remind me of the show, reminds me of the show. (Flies, clocks, ducks, classical music, drinking coffee, anything related to England, biblical references, etc.)

[ ] I have a set of beliefs and theories that I stick to - example: coffee theory, body swap theory, Crowley is Raphael, etc. Bonus point if any of these are genuinely from your own head.

[ ] I have a favorite Crowley (Bildaddy?).

[ ] I have listened to other people’s Good Omens themed playlists/music on YouTube or Spotify. Points: [ ] of 9 points + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 7 [ ] I have experienced a spike in learning/skill after watching the show. (Read Shakespeare, history, philosophy, books mentioned, shown or referenced l, learned or improved a craft and any other neuron connection boosting activity).

[ ] I have experienced an increase in my preferred destructive coping mechanism after watching the show, but I’d rather have it this way than not having watched it.

[ ] I have been sad that I am not an immortal, celestial being fighting for the opportunity to finally be with my soulmate and lover, another immortal, celestial being forced to work for a rival oppressive government, after 6000 years of queer yearning and forbidden desire. I have been sad that I - due to human life expectancy, at the very least - can NOT experience such love. Ever.

[ ] Good Omens has affected my sexuality (kinks, roleplay, thoughts, type of desired partner, etc.)

[ ] I know what the archangel Michael’s ring looks like, and what it’s modeled after.

[ ] I have made my own playlist with music reminding me of Good Omens.

[ ] I have had trouble sleeping because I thought about my fic narrative (even if I haven’t started writing it yet), unfinished drawing, video idea or similar.

[ ] I can, with worrying accuracy, correctly guess the episode when watching a scene from the show.

[ ] I read an insane amount of layered theories and possible references and so on, into every word said by Aziraphale and Crowley, to the point where watching is difficult because I get so many fan theories in my head I have to write down.

[ ] I want to travel to London. Bonus point if you already have been to London pre-brainrot and hated it. If you live in London, you get a point if Good Omens made you visit Soho even though you know it wasn’t filmed there. If you live in Soho, you get a point if you've been to the South Downs because of Good Omens.

[ ] I have thought of or prepared a Good Omens costume for Halloween. Bonus point if you have already found a reason to wear it. Bonus point if you wear it casually. Bonus point if the costume is inconspicuous enough that you can go to work/school without it being too weird. Bonus point if, when wearing your costume, you sat on a bench on purpose. Points: [ ] of 11 + [ ] bonus points --- INSANE LEVEL [ ] I have been a fan of the book since 1990. [ ] I read queerness into the book independently (be honest). [ ] I have made money creating Good Omens-anything. [ ] I have met and/or talked to Neil Gaiman/Terry Pratchett(RIP)/the actors outside of social media (mail and cons count, Tumblr does not) specifically about the book or later, the show. [ ] I have hosted a Good Omens themed event (wedding, birthday party, con, baby shower, etc). One point for each event.

[ ] The amount of text I’ve written (fics, metas, song lyrics, poems, whatever) is equal to or greater than the amount of text in the book. Points: [ ] of 6 + [ ] bonus points --- GOD'S FAVORITE-LEVEL [ ] Michael Sheen retweeted you or referenced something of yours in any way. This one is worth 25 lazerii, which is more than all the other points combined. You only need this one checked to have 100% fatal Good Omens brainrot. --- Total points: [ ] of 48 + [ ] bonus points = [ ] points SCORE 1 - 3 points: Why did you take this test? Go do something better with your life, you don't belong here. Enjoy your freedom, the lightness in your heart and the fresh breeze upon your unbothered, youthful face. 3 - 6 points: I bet you still know how to feel happiness. It's still time, you can turn this around. I suggest you just leave this now, and come back whenever you see an ad for season 3. Let yourself be happy in the meantime. 6 - 16 points: You've ventured into dangerous territory, but none of your loved ones have realized you have a problem yet. And you might not... The lines are blurred here. You can still come off as an adjusted person when you talk about the show or anything related to it. 16 - 23 points: A scan of your brain reveals that almost 20% of your prefrontal cortex has rotted away. Friends and family have a negative kneejerk reaction to any mention of Good Omens related subjects. You spend most of your free time on your phone, browsing Good Omens media. The only possible cure at this point, would be a new hyperfixation. 23 - 36 points: 33 % of your total brain volume has been affected. The rot has infected almost every area, and trying to introduce any unrelated hyperfixation causes anxiety, confusion and depression. Doctors are baffled to discover that there is a fungi growing from the rot - it seems to connect with your brain, allowing for an extreme learning curve should you hyperfixate on any subject in any way related to Good Omens. If you ever wanted to read up on Shakespeare, this would be the time to do that. 36 - 48 points: 89% of your brain is affected by rot and mostly replaced by fungi - the only uninfected areas are the reptilian brain (the words 'reptilian brain' reminded you of Crowley) and the medulla, which means it hasn't affected your breathing and your instinctive reactions. You still flinch when cars almost hit you, as you wander aimlessly roadside - lost in thoughts about Good Omens. 48 - ?? points: I'm here if you need to talk. No therapist will understand this without labeling it as a severe breach with reality. (I mean, excuse me - the show is right there on Amazon Prime, it’s real.) The medical field is far behind, years and years will go by before they recognize your diagnosis; 100% fatal Good Omens brainrot. It controls your breathing, your heart rate - everything. This condition is fatal because it lasts until you die, and then you'll have a Good Omens themed funeral. 25 lazerii: How does it feel to be loved by God?

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vanteguccir · 18 days

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Hey guys! I actually spent long minutes staring at these reblogs and debating whether it was worth responding and talking about or not. But as I'm not the type to take hate and keep quiet, I decided to talk about it.

First of all, Reia, you really seem like a person who doesn't read many fanfics for the way you put it in your text, so I'll explain the meaning of the word. Fanfic, short for "fan fiction", is a story written by a fan based on characters, universes, or real people (like the triplets). Fans create their own narratives, expanding or reimagining everything, creating their own version, which in real life does not exist OR, as writers, we often draw inspiration from real-life events too.

And yes, you and Evangeline are trying to be "fanfic police" and even "sturniolo police", if you scroll through the thousands of Sturniolo Triplets fanfics, you will come across A LOT where Matt, Nick or Chris go through situations of anxiety attack, panic attack, OR where the "reader" herself goes through this, sometimes even involving situations way worse than that. Furthermore, there's thousands of fanfics describing explicit sex scenes with them, the famous smuts, does that bother you too? Because in the world of someone who writes a FANFIC in here, it doesn't.

And yes, I was indeed writing about the meet and greet situation, and this was nothing new to ANYONE in the fandom WHO READS THE FANFICS HERE. I even made a post the day before ASKING who would like to read the idea, and you want to know the news? All 200 people who voted wanted it.

I understand that you feel this story is disrespectful FOR YOU, especially because it touches on a real-life situation that may be sensitive or painful for some people. I want to assure you that it was never my intention to cause harm or disrespect anyone involved in that situation.

I myself am diagnosed with chronic anxiety, and even so, I didn't feel affected by the way I wrote. In fact, I described how I feel during MY anxiety attacks.

In no way did I make fun of the situation Matt went through, in fact, my intention in writing this story was to explore Matt's complexity and show how he deals with real problems, such as anxiety. It was a way to give more depth to his situation during the tour and highlight the importance of the emotional support he receives from "Y/N". It was not my intention to mock him, but rather to explore his humanity and the challenges he faced, and I know with all the certainty in the world that I did not mock him, much less affect the people who read the story.

Please, I ask you to reevaluate the need to throw hate at a person who has nothing to do with your outside the box opinions of what WRITERS ON THE STURNIOLO'S TUMBLR should or shouldn't write about.

There are thousands of posts on Instagram and TikTok from "fans" really mocking Matt and throwing hate at him about "their bad experiences" during one of the shows, these are the people you should be giving a piece of your mind to, not me. 🩷

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #vante thoughts

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thefallennightmare · 4 months

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One Night: Noah's POV-four[END]

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Noah's POV of his one night with Reader.

Authors Note: OMG IM CRYING! I cannot believe this is the end to the very first Noah fic I wrote! I know it's supposed to be in Noah's POV but I had to throw in the readers pov a few times.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ/COMMENTED. MEANS SO MUCH.

NOW ENJOY THIS CHAPTER FILLED WITH STRAIGHT FLUFFY FILTH.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans @spicywhenspeaking @myownthoughts12

NOAH

Turning over in my bunk with a sigh, I reached for the warm body that usually would be there but touched cold, empty space. I raised my head from the pillow, half-lidded eyes searching for her then looked at the time on my phone.

2:32 a.m.

Running my hand over my tired face, I rolled out of my bunk with a groan as my long limbs stretched. Almost three weeks into the tour my body was screaming at me to sleep in an actual bed rather than the small bunk that before would barely fit me. However, with Y/N on the road with me, it was a tight squeeze for both of us. The first night, she offered to sleep in her own bunk so I could have as much space as I could but immediately I declined. I wanted her to be as close to me as possible. While none of us said it, both of us were worried about what would happen to our relationship when this tour ended. Although we both agreed to work on it even though we lived in different states; we would put in the same amount of effort.

Craning my neck to the side, bones popping, I walked to the front area of the bus, knowing exactly where she was and what she was doing. Y/N sat on one of the couches with her legs crossed, laptop perched in her lap. The lights were off, only a blue light emanating from her screen illuminated her face; glasses resting on her nose. She wore my yellow hoodie, her drowning in it as the skin of her legs peaked through the bottom of it. I hummed to myself at the sight, enjoying how she looked. This was the first time in weeks that I saw her wearing glasses.

“Angel,” I muttered quietly while rubbing my bare chest. “Do you know what time it is?”

She glanced up at me with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I know I said I was coming to bed like three hours ago but I got a surge of inspiration. I only meant to write for a little bit but before I knew it, I finished two chapters.”

I fell onto the couch next to her and left a soft kiss on the side of her head. “How’s the book coming?”

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t expect it to be so easy to write a novel while traveling. I thought with all the excitement of tour life, I wouldn’t be able to find time to write but it's been the opposite of that.”

I hummed. “Well, it helps that you’re writing about our night together.”

Y/N shifted next to me. “Does that bother you?”

I raised a brow at her. “Why would it?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I only want to make sure you’re comfortable with it. I didn’t use our names and I created two different characters. But everything else is the same as what happened that night. I mean, the guy is a rockstar and kind of resembles you. Maybe I should scrap the idea.”

Y/N was rambling on and I knew what this was; she was beginning to doubt her novel, something she did a few times now while with me.

“Hey.” I lifted her chin so I could force her to look at me. “Stop doubting yourself, alright? I’ve read what you have so far and it’s amazing, angel. I don’t care that you’re using something that happened between us. It inspired you to write a book, use that. Create a world from that one night.”

She bit her bottom lip and I internally groaned at the sight of her; glasses and wearing my sweater. Truly in this darkness of the bus as it moved along to our next destination, Y/N looked like an angel.

“Thank you for supporting me, Noah. I know we haven’t been together long but your support means a lot to me.”

I left a chaste kiss on her lips and then on her nose. “I’ll always support you. Even if you start writing fanfiction about me.”

“You know,” she started while going back to typing away on her laptop. “It’s kind of cool that it doesn't bother you that people write about you.”

I shrugged. “It was weird seeing it at first but I realized it helps people escape the reality world for a bit to create this entire universe, all because of our band. It’s pretty special if you think about it.”

We sat in silence for a little while as I lounged next to her, watching her fingers type furiously against the keys of her laptop. My gaze flicked upwards at her face, drinking in the sight of her and my heart pounded hard against my chest. I was afraid she could hear it.

“You’re staring,” she muttered with a smile, not taking her eyes off the screen.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Oh, these old things,” Y/N adjusted them on her nose. “I don’t usually but I think I’ve been staring at my screen too much because my eyes have been feeling a bit strained.”

“You look cute,” I mused while resting my head against her shoulder and peering down at her laptop again, stifling a yawn behind my hand.

Y/N brushed her lips over my forehead. “You should go back to sleep, Noah. It was a long night and you’ve got a big day later.”

Our show tonight was filled with problem after problem it seemed. My voice wasn’t up to par, even though everyone reassured me I sounded fine. Our tech wasn’t working which made things incredibly hard for Matt. Then not to mention the constant fights happening in the crowd tonight. We were all so upset that we ended up skipping two songs tonight only because having to stop the show a few different times for the tech issues and fights, the time we were allowed to play was stretched thin.

Later today, we were taking a break from our normal tour schedule to play a festival in Missouri. But before that, I had two solo interviews and one with the guys lined up before our set.

“Only if you come with me,” I poked Y/N’s side before looking up at her through my lashes.

“Alright,” she sighed with a playful roll of her eyes.

As she began clicking out of her tabs, one immediately caught my attention and I placed my hand over hers to stop her.

“Inspiration, huh?” I smirked and pointed to the picture on the screen.

Her cheeks flushed red and Y/N pursed her lips. “Can you blame me? You look fucking hot in that mask.”

On her screen was a picture of me sporting a Bad Omens sweater and a yellow mask.

A low noise rumbled in my throat as I gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her bright eyes shined in the darkness and my heart stopped in my chest.

“Do you want me to wear the yellow one, angel?”

Y/N swallowed thickly before slowly nodding. “Please.”

My cock twitched in my joggers at hearing her beg. We had a quick fuck in the bathroom of the green room before the show but it wasn't enough. I wanted to be able to taste her on my lips later today.

I peered over her shoulder to the front of the bus, noticing the door that led to where Jake, our driver, was shut. Then I looked over my own shoulder to see if anyone was up, moving around in the back.

All clear.

I then took her laptop from her, setting it on the kitchenette table behind me, and motioned for her to lie back.

“Noah,” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she shook her head. “What if someone hears us?”

I gently pushed her to lie down on the couch. “Then you’ll have to be quiet, angel.”

Adjusting myself so I was kneeling on the couch in front of her, I slid my fingers underneath the bottom of her sweater; my sweater. When I continued to touch her skin and not the fabric of her shorts, I raised a brow.

“Were you sitting out here in nothing but my sweater, Y/N?” My voice was low.

She grinned. “I have panties on.”

I hooked fingers in the waistband of said panties and slowly slid them down her legs until they hung around her ankle. I spread her wider for me, mouth salivating at the sight of her slickness, with one leg up against the back of the couch and the other foot perched on the floor.

“Noah,” she whined while arching her back.

My tongue rolled over my bottom lip. “Can you be quiet for me, angel?”

Y/N quickly nodded before going to take off her sweater.

“No,” I held her hand. “Leave my sweater on. You look heavenly in yellow.”

With a flick of my tongue, I licked up her arousal with a hum of delight. She always tasted so fucking good. Y/N had her own specific taste and scent, and it drove me absolutely mad. My teeth grazed over her sensitive clit and the noises that fell from her lips made my cock throb.

Her nails raked through my hair, scraping along my scalp, and I shivered under her touch. I sucked hard on her clit, earning a loud moan from Y/N, so I smacked the inside of her thigh.

“Shit, Noah,” she hissed in pleasure when I slipped one finger between her folds.

I pumped in and out of her in fast strokes as my tongue flicked over his clit, then added another finger, spearing the two inside of her.

“Fuck!” Y/N panted as she gripped my hair tighter. “Shit. ‘M so close.”

“Cum for me, angel,” I ordered, removing my lips from her only for a second then went back to tasting her arousal.

Her body shook underneath me as she screamed out her release and I reached up, smacking a hand over her mouth. Her cries were now muffled as I licked her through the aftershocks.

“Good girl,” I praised while leaving a gentle kiss on the inside of her thigh.

I helped Y/N to a sitting position and wrapped my hand around the back of her head, pulling her into a heated kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself on my tongue and folded into me, hands resting on my chest.

“I’m so sleepy now,” Y/N sighed while adjusting the glasses on her nose.

“Let's go to sleep, angel.” I reached for his discarded panties and pocketed them.

“Hey!”

She tried to reach for them but I threw her over my shoulder as I stood to my feet. Thankfully her sweater covered her bare ass as I began walking back toward our bunk.

“You don’t need them,” I said.

“Noah,” she giggled. “I can’t sleep without underwear.”

Gently, I tossed her into our bunk and looked around at the others, making sure her cries of pleasure hadn’t woken anyone up.

“I need to make sure I have all of you when I wake up,” I winked while crawling into bed with her, pulling the curtain closed tight.

“Such a perv,” Y/N joked while smacking my chest.

I wrapped her into my embrace by lifting her leg over my hips as she rested her head against my chest. We lay there for a little while, just basking in the solace that we created ourselves.

“Noah,” Y/N spoke quietly while running a finger over the tattoos on my chest.

I hummed, enjoying the way she felt against me.

“Do you honestly think my novel is good enough?”

I shifted us a bit so I could gaze down at her with a frown pulling at my lips. However, Y/N refused to look at me.

“Y/N, why are you doubting yourself?” I questioned.

She was quiet for a long moment, simply dragging a finger over the tattoos on my stomach now.

“It’s my first one. I’ve written a few things online for years but this is an actual story that's going to be published for people to buy. What if it fails?” She finished with a shaky breath.

I rolled us over so I was peering down at her while she was on her back. Y/N’s usual bright eyes were dulled and I took off her glasses, safely setting them in the far corner of the bunk.

“Why do you think it will fail?” I asked.

When she tried to look away, I cupped her cheek so she couldn’t. “Don’t hide from me, angel.”

“I-shit-,” her bottom lip quivered. “Writing is all I have, ya know? If this book fails, I don't know what I’m going to do.”

I left a soft kiss on her nose. “There’s going to be negativity with it, there's no way around that. But from what I’ve personally dealt with, you need to focus on all the positives. I don’t want to see you get in your own head, angel.”

She nodded in my grasp. “I’m my own biggest critic. Now that I’m so close to finishing it, doubt is settling in about if it’ll be good enough. What if no publishing company wants to pick it up?”

I brushed some hair out of her face and propped myself up on my other elbow.

“Have you thought about self-publishing?” I suggested.

Y/N scoffed. “I looked into it and the cheapest route is almost a grand. I don’t have that amount of money to invest in something that might fail. The cost of living in Las Vegas is killing me to begin with, I can’t put all my savings into something that might fail.”

My lips parted to speak but she quickly pressed a finger over them, hushing me. “No, don’t. I do not need your money for this, Noah. I cannot ask you for that.”

I kissed her finger before removing it from my mouth. “I just want to take care of you, Y/N.”

She grabbed my hand and left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I know. But I can’t ask that from you. I’ll figure it out.”

“Well,” I tapped her nose. “Writing isn't the only thing you have. You have me and I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N grinned up at me. “Good because I’m not letting you go.”

I dipped low to leave a kiss on her lips, letting my tongue slip inside to taste every inch of her mouth. Faintly I could still taste her arousal on her tongue and I groaned, rutting my hips into her.

Y/N’s nails left red marks down my chest and stomach then she reached for my joggers, pulling at them.

“What do you want, angel?” I asked breathless from the kiss.

Her bottom lip jutted out and I immediately attacked it with my teeth.

“Fuck,” she hissed while bringing her fingers to her lips, faint crimson painting them. “I’m bleeding.”

Our lips met again in a fiery, teeth-smacking kiss, and Y/N’s hand slipped beneath my joggers, palming my hard cock. I groaned into the kiss and ground my cock against her hand as Y/N began palming it.

“Noah,” she mewled against my lips. “I need it.”

“Use your words,” I teased while leaving a mark in the crook of her neck.

Y/N squeezed my cock and I hissed in pleasure as my head fell to her chest. Her hand began to pump up and down then when her thumb grazed over the head, I nearly came in her hand.

“Angel,” I breathed against her neck. “Please don’t stop.”

She did, only briefly to help me shimmy out of my joggers then I stripped her off her sweater, eyes turning dark when I realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Quickly I guided her hand back to my aching cock and Y/N started pumping me fast and hard.

“Shit. Please,” I held myself up on my elbows as I gazed down at her through half-lidded eyes. “Keep going.”

Her eyes were locked on the space between us, almost focusing on her actions.

“I love hearing you beg,” Y/N gazed up at me, a playful smirk on her lips.

“Don’t.” I panted. “Stop.”

Suddenly, she was patting my hip with her free hand. “Get on your back.”

I groaned when she stopped. “Angel-.”

“Get on your back, Noah. Now.”

Something burned low in my belly hearing the demanding tone in her voice so with a hastily nod, I did what she asked and watched as she climbed on top of me. It was a tight fit with the small space of the bunk and she couldn’t sit completely upright. Instead, she leaned half of her body over me as she held my cock with one hand, the other resting over my heart.

I internally smiled at the small gesture.

My head fell back onto the pillow when Y/N slowly inched herself down on my cock, the tightness of her walls gripping around me harder than her hand did.

“Fuck,” she cursed. “I didn't think this through. Not much space here.”

I grunted, wrapping an arm around her waist to lock her into place. “We need an actual fucking bed.”

As her hips moved, a spew of curses fell from my lips along with her name, it sounded like a prayer in the small confines of what we called our bedroom the last two weeks. It still didn’t feel real sometimes that she was here with me. Y/N chose to leave her life behind to follow me and my band across the States for a month. Not many people did that, especially for someone they barely knew.

But we weren’t those people. Our relationship wasn’t typical, it had been different since the start.

The last two weeks have been perfect. Y/N fit in great with everyone in our crew, she and Nicholas bonded over Britt. Same with her and Folio. Y/N and Jolly had a mutual show they watched together some nights after our shows when she wasn’t working on her novel.

Hell, Y/N and Matt even bonded over their love for raccoons.

Gazing up into her bright eyes, I cupped her cheek to force our gazes to lock.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

A red hue brushed across the soft features of her face as she continued to ride me. “Hm, no. Not recently.”

“Well,” I pulled her flush against me. “You’re fucking beautiful, angel. And mine.”

“Yours,” she cried out when I began to fuck up into her, my cock slamming with no remorse.

The bunk beneath us creaked, giving away to everyone on the bus what we were doing, but I didn’t care. Y/N’s head fell to my shoulder, my name muffled by my skin, and when she clenched harder around me I knew she was close.

I yanked her head back with my free hand, the other still wrapped around her tight and exposed her face and neck to me.

“I want to watch you fall apart on my cock,” I said through gritted teeth.

Her tits bounced with each hard thrust and I briefly took one of her nipples in my mouth, biting and teasing it with my tongue.

“Noah,” Y/N choked out. “‘M gonna.”

My head snapped up so I could watch her as the coil in my stomach began to snap, a burning rush shooting through my entire body as my release washed over me without warning.

Both of us moaned each other's names in tangent as Y/N came apart all over my cock, her arousal coating my cock and hips. She fell to my body in a heap of exhaustion and I quickly covered us with the blanket, not bothering to clean us up or get dressed.

“Goodnight, Noah,” Y/N pressed a kiss to my cheek before snuggling closer to me.

I grinned, heart beating wildly in my chest, and wrapped myself tighter around her. “Sweet dreams, angel.”

READER

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I exclaimed while staring down at the email on my laptop.

Dear Y/N,

We hope this email finds you well. But we wanted to let you know that beginning in two months, we will not be renewing your lease. We appreciate your understanding in this matter.

From,

The leasing office.

“Everything alright?” Noah asked as he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, steam following him.

I bit my lip at the sight of him. The towel hung loosely around his hips, his hair was slicked back, and droplets of water trailed down his warm skin still red from his shower.

I blinked. “Sorry, did you say something?”

He smirked. “Distracted, are we?”

“Well, you walk out like this,” I motioned to him from head to toe. “And you expect me NOT to listen to a word you just said?”

“If I didn’t already bend you over the bathroom sink to fuck you, I would. But I have to be at the venue soon,” Noah left a kiss on my forehead.

My cheeks burned at the memory of earlier when Noah had me bent over the bathroom counter, fucking me without an ounce of falter. He slammed me so hard into the granite counter top, I was sure I’d have bruises in the morning. Noah’s long fingers were hooked in my mouth to hold me upright and I shivered when I remembered how my body reacted during my orgasm.

“Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay here tonight?” I asked, biting my lip as I watched him walk around the room naked.

Shit, his ass was perfect.

“Angel,” he sighed while stepping into a pair of black briefs. “You’ve watched every single show on this tour so far. I’m not going to be mad or upset if you miss this one.”

I pouted. “I know but I feel terrible.”

“You’re so close to finishing your book, Y/N. You need some quiet time to focus. Take advantage of the fact we are staying in a hotel for the next two nights. Enjoy the quiet tonight and tomorrow we can spend our last day off sightseeing,” Noah said.

It was the start of the last week of the tour and while the fear of what would happen afterward started to weigh heavy on my shoulders, I did my best not to dwell on it because I didn’t want to ruin the time we had left. It was clear that we would continue our relationship but it wouldn’t be easy since we lived in different states.

“I can’t believe there are only four shows left,” I noted while setting my laptop on the table in front of me. “How do you feel about it?”

Noah fell onto the couch next to me with a breath. “It’s always bittersweet. While I love performing on stage in front of sold-out crows, I miss the comfort and solace of my house.”

I hummed in agreement, resting my hand on the back of his neck to play with the wet strands of his hair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling about the place I’ve lived in,” I admitted.

“Really?” He raised a brow.

“I’ve tried to make my apartment feel like a home but it always feels like something was missing. But it doesn't even matter anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

With a long sigh, I turned my laptop towards him so he could read the email, a slight frown pulling on his lips.

“So, this means what?” Noah asked, even though I was pretty sure he already knew.

“I have sixty days to find a new place to live,” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge deal.

Although, it was. My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach knowing that I had to spend the rest of my time on the road with Noah by looking for places to live.

“Do you want to stay in Las Vegas?” He asked while rubbing my back.

“I guess before I never thought of moving anywhere else but now-,” the words trailed off.

I didn’t want to say something if Noah didn’t feel the same.

“But what?” He urged with a gentle tone.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should think about moving somewhere new; a fresh start,” I said after some hesitation.

Noah hummed. “I heard Los Angeles is a great place to start fresh.”

My head snapped up towards him, the words stumbling over my tongue.

“Wh-what?

My heart hammered so loud in my chest that I could hear it in my ears and I began rubbing my palms on my thighs. Noah immediately picked up on my nerves and gently grabbed my hands and brought them to his chest.

“I’m not asking you to move in with me, angel. You said it yourself though that you’re looking for a fresh start. Los Angeles has a lot of opportunities and there’s quite a few different places for rent around my area,” Noah explained.

I chewed on my bottom lip. “Well, if I’m being honest. There’s really nothing for me in Las Vegas anymore. Britt was bouncing back and forth between there and Virgina to see Folio so I barely saw her to begin with.”

Noah’s thumb brushed over the back of my hand, his brown eyes sparkling with so much hope.

“It will make things easier for us,” I turned towards him. “But I don’t want to uproot my entire life if you’re not willing to work on us.”

“Angel,” he brought my hands to his lips, leaving a vast variety of kisses. “I’m one hundred percent into this relationship. You know that I’m not going to force you into anything. But I’ve had you this close to me the last few weeks, I don’t think I can handle you living hours away from me after this.”

Tears burned in the corners of my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath to keep them at bay.

“Can I think about it?” I asked after a few beats of silence.

Noah’s face fell slightly but he quickly recovered. “Of course, angel.”

There was a knock on the door of our hotel room and after a quick kiss to my forehead, Noah tossed on a shirt before answering the door. On the other side stood Jolly with his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Ready?”

Noah peered over his shoulder to me, a frown on his lips. “I’ll miss you.”

I giggled while jutting out my bottom lip. “I’ll miss you too, Pookie Bear.”

Jolly rolled his eyes as he stepped into the room, waiting for Noah to finish packing up his things.

“You’re not coming tonight?” He asked.

I shook my head while motioning towards my laptop. “I have to finish up the last few things of my novel. I plan to self-publish in the next month or so.”

“Oh, fuck. That’s great, Y/N!” Jolly smiled wide.

“It’s a bit scary, though. I’m putting everything I have into this and if it fails, I don’t know what I’ll do,” I admitted with a sigh.

Noah snuck up behind me on the couch and placed his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him upside down and he bent low to leave a firm but soft kiss on my lips.

“It won’t fail, Y/N. I’ve read it and this is my unbiased opinion. You wrote an amazing, beautiful story. People will love it,” he reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I mused while tapping his arm.

With one final kiss, Noah sneaking his tongue past my lips, I moaned quietly into his mouth as my hand snaked behind his neck.

“I’ll miss you,” he muttered against my lips.

“I’ll do my best to stay awake to wait for you,” I said.

Noah slung his back over his shoulder and winked. “I’ll wake you up if you’re asleep.”

As he and Jolly began to walk out of the room, I called after them.

“Jolly!”

“Yeah?” He poked his head back into the room just before Noah shut the door.

“Tomorrow night! Season finale. Bring the pizza, I’ll have the drinks!” I pointed a finger at him.

With a two-finger salute, Jolly nodded with Noah pushing him out of the room. He quickly turned to look back at me.

“See you later, angel,” Noah blew a kiss.

“Kick ass tonight!” I returned it.

Finally, in the solace of the hotel room, I blew out a shaky breath and rested my laptop on my lap once again, ignoring the email from my leasing office. Even though I asked Noah for time to think about my final decision, I already knew what I was going to do.

It was the truth when I said there was nothing for me left in Las Vegas and I wanted a fresh start. Although, I didn’t expect Noah to throw out the idea of moving to Los Angeles. But the thought of being close to him made my heart flutter in the best fucking way. We got so used to being around each other all day, every day the last few weeks so the thought of being separated once the tour ended on Friday didn’t sound appealing.

With a crack of my fingers, I set to work for the next few hours focusing on my novel as I worked out the last few kinks and polishing it to perfection. By the time I felt comfortable with everything, reading it from start to finish, I couldn’t stop the large smile that spread on my face.

“Shit, Noah was right. This is good,” I muttered to myself.

Quickly checking the time on my phone, I noticed that it was almost time for Bad Omens to go on stage so I hastily typed out a message to Noah.

Me: It’s finished 😁

Almost instantly, he responded.

Noah🧜: I’m so fucking proud of you, angel. We’ll celebrate later tonight when I’m back.

With a slight uncurl of my lips, I responded.

Me: Would this maybe include the yellow mask?

After a few minutes of no response, I chalked it up to Noah being pulled away to go on stage. So I spent the rest of the night tidying up the hotel room every so often checking my phone for any Bad Omens content from tonight. Even though it was sparse, I couldn’t help but feel that twinge of jealousy that I didn’t go tonight.

It’s one night, Y/N. You have four more shows to watch before the end.

Just before I went to lock my phone, a new text from Noah popped up.

“Must be the break,” I muttered with a smile.

Noah🧜: Don’t tempt me, Y/N. Because now that’s all I’m thinking about before going back out on stage.

Of course, I did want to tempt him so with a sinister smirk, I quickly stepped out of my clothes and lounged on the bed. I went through a few different positions until I found the best one and snapped a few pictures. I had an arm over my bare breasts with my bright yellow lace panties. With the picture attached, I replied to Noah.

Me: Is this temptation enough?

Setting my phone on the bed, I got dressed once again then ordered myself some room service with a few extra things for Noah when he returned tonight. I did some more research on how to self-publish and although the doubt was still there, I couldn’t help but feel excited that soon my book would be out there for everyone to read.

I tapped my chin and mulled over this thought for a few seconds, I decided to spend the time while I ate to look up different apartments for rent in Los Angeles.

“What the fuck,” I grumbled when I realized how expensive some of the apartments were. “There’s no way I can afford any of these.”

I shut my laptop with a bit of force and left it on the coffee table. I decided to ease away my worries and doubts by taking a long soak in the tub. Briefly checking my phone, I noticed Noah still hadn’t responded but I knew that it was the end of the show and he’d be back soon enough anyway.

Almost thirty minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom with the towel loosely around me only to be pushed up against the wall by a large, warm body.

“Someone’s been naughty while I’m gone.”

I was frozen in fear until the familiar voice breathed in my ear and immediately I relaxed in his embrace. His arms were posted on either side of my head, hands sprawled against the wall as his hips locked me in place. I drank in the sight of his tattoos and eased into his chest.

“I missed you,” I breathed while resting my head on his shoulder.

It was then that I noticed something yellow covering Noah’s face and I sucked in a breath. But before I could turn to look at him completely, he forced my face into the wall again. A slick warmth spread between my legs as a fire buzzed in my lower spine.

“Meet me in the hotel pool in ten minutes,” his teeth grazed over the shell of my ear.

“W-what?”

Suddenly Noah’s warmth was gone followed by the door to the room shutting. I swallowed thickly while staring at the empty room. My heart felt giddy with the wonder and excitement of what Noah had planned but my stomach flipped with nerves as I quickly threw on some clothes.

NOAH

Thankfully the pool was empty since it was late evening so I didn’t have to worry about anyone other than Y/N walking in. I sat on the edge of the pool in my pair of black swim trunks and the yellow mask covering my face. From the second I saw that picture of Y/N, all I could think about was this moment which made it difficult to focus on finishing my set tonight.

The door to the pool room opened and my eyes snapped away from my legs wadding in the water to drink in the sight of Y/N sheepishly walking in. My pupils dilated when I noticed she was wearing my white Death Note shirt and nothing else.

I felt her burning gaze over every inch of me, lingering on my face, and even from our distance, I could see the breath catch in her throat.

“What if someone walks in on us?” She asked while shifting on her feet.

I pointed to the door behind her. “Lock it.”

Her eyes widened. “Noah, we can't!”

I titled my head to the side. “Angel, are you afraid?”

“No,” Y/N scoffed with a shaky voice. “I just don’t-.”

“Lock. The. Door.”

I never took my eyes off of her as I watched her shuffle her feet back to the door and when the click of the lock echoed in the large space, I hooked my finger at her.

“Get in the pool,” I demanded.

Y/N swallowed thickly. “Uh, I didn’t wear my swimsuit.”

My feet kept wading through the water as I bit my lip. “Are you telling me that’s all you’re wearing?”

When she nodded, I absent-mindedly ran a hand over my chest, a hum vibrating against my palm. I had two options: I could have her strip naked and get in the pool or have her get in the pool while still wearing my shirt.

Deciding on the second option, I jumped into the pool still wearing the mask, and swam to the other end of the pool where she stood. I reached my hand out towards her but quickly picked up on the hesitation on her face.

“Are you alright?” I asked, my facade dropping slightly.

“Um, if I’m being honest, I’m kind of nervous about what you have planned,” she rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I trust you, Noah. I do.”

“Safe word?” I reminded her.

Y/N nodded with a small hint of a smile. “I remember.”

“Good,” I extended my hand again. “Now get your pretty ass in this pool.”

When she went to reach for her shirt to take it off, I curly shook my head. “Leave it on.”

The second her soft hand was in mine, I helped her walk down the stairs of the pool until the water stopped right under her breasts. I yanked her into my embrace, catching her lips in a passionate kiss. Her nails dug into my chest while mine gripped underneath the shirt, grazing over her bare ass.

“Angel,” I groaned against her lips while pushing her against the wall of the pool, locking her in place.

Y/N pushed me away gently so she could look into my eyes, hers darting all over my face.

“Fuck, I thought you looked hot in the black one but something about this yellow mask is making me feral,” she nipped at the skin of my neck.

I hissed in pleasure, shivering underneath the touch of her lips upon me. It was something I never got used to, no matter how many times she kissed me. I still couldn't explain this feeling that filled my heart and view whenever I was with her. It was so unknown that it scared me to follow it at first. It hindered me useless when she left me in the hotel room all those months ago.

Suddenly I realized that this was the first time we were in a hotel room together since that first night together and fear sunk my heart deep. I yanked her away from me so I could force her to look into my eyes.

“Promise you won’t leave?” I asked with a stern hold on her chin.

“Huh?”

I licked my lips. “I need you to promise me that you won’t walk out the door tonight unless it’s with me.”

Y/N’s eyes darted back and forth between mine until they finally softened, her realizing why I needed her to promise me this.

“Noah,” she cupped my cheek over the mask. “I promise to never leave you like that again. I’m here with you, for you, and I’m never leaving.”

I swallowed the burn in my throat and left a kiss on the inside of her palm. “Thank you.”

She kissed me again and this time, I didn’t hold back. I ravaged every single inch of her with my hands and mouth, needing to taste her; to feel her. With my hands on her hips, I forced her to turn around towards the wall of the pool.

“Hands on the edge,” I rasped.

Doing what I said, Y/N rested her hands on the edge of the pool while I brought her ass towards me underneath the water. My cock was straining against the confines of my tight swim trunks, it almost begging to be inside of her. Ever since she sent me that picture earlier, all I could think about was the sweetness of her pussy and the way it felt when it gripped my cock.

Once my cock was free, I pumped it a few times underwater and leaned over Y/N to whisper in her ear.

“You think you were smart sending me that picture earlier?”

My voice was dark and low, filled with my desire and mock disappointment.

“No,” she breathed.

“Anyone could have seen it, angel,” I nuzzled my mask-covered face into the crook of her neck. “What if that happened?”

One hand was wrapped tightly around my cock, poised at her entrance, while my other hand dug into the soft skin of her hip to keep her in place.

“I’m sorry,” she whined while pressing her ass farther into me.

Her whines went straight to my cock.

“I’m not going to hold back, angel,” I bit down on the sweet spot of skin underneath her ear.

“Fuck me, Noah.”

With fucking pleasure.

The water splashed as I slammed into her, completely seething myself between her folds, and her cries echoed throughout the vast room around us. Neither of us said a word as I harshly fucked it, the only thing that you could hear was the water splashing, my heavy breathing, and her cries of pleasure.

I wrapped my arm around her midsection to pull her closer to me, her shirt hiked up just underneath her breasts, and I felt the sweat gather on my forehead underneath the mask due to the humidity of the pool and our bodies intertwined.

“Shit,” I cursed when her pussy clenched around me. “I need to take the mask off.”

“No!” Y/N looked over her shoulder at me. “Please, not yet.”

Water had splashed out from the pool onto the stone floor around us and I yanked her off of me, her whines of protest sounding like music to my ears. I spun Y/N around so she could look up at me now.

“You want to see the mask?”

She nodded in her blissed-out state.

“Then eyes on me, angel,” I demanded, spearing her open with my cock yet again.

Y/N cried out my name, almost as if she was praying to me, and I lifted her leg around my back so I could reach her at a better angle; deeper. I needed to go deeper.

“Noah.”

Her eyes never left mine as I fucked her senseless, her mouth falling open. My cock twitched inside her when the fire burned at the base of my spine, my orgasm so fucking close.

“Are you close, angel?” I asked, barely hanging on as my pace became erratic and uneven.

There was a slight frown on her face and for a second, I worried I was hurting her.

“It’s hard for me to cum underwater,” Y/N admitted with a shy face.

One hand rested against my chest while her other grasped at my mask, almost holding it in place.

“It’s okay, you can cum, Noah. Cum for me, I want to watch your face underneath the mask fall apart.

A whimper crawled out of my throat, one that made Y/N’s eyes widened and pussy clench around me one final time as my hips stilled, cock spilling my arousal into her. My forehead fell to hers as my breath came out strangled.

“So beautiful,” Y/N mused while playing with the strands of hair that peaked out from underneath my mask.

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t cum in water,” I asked, almost breathless, now looking at her.

She shrugged. “Trust me, Noah. It still felt good; really good. But I couldn’t even if you put a vibrator against my clit. My body just can't.”

Ripping off the mask now, I let the cool air of the room brush across the heated skin of my face and took a deep breath.

“Well,” I kissed her lips and tucked myself away. “Seems like we have unfinished business then.”

Y/N raised a brow but before she could ask what I meant, I had her sitting on the edge of the pool, me following right behind her.

“Noah-.”

Her giggles carried around the room as I threw her wet body over my shoulder and began walking us out of the pool room.

“My ass is hanging out!” She cried.

I smacked it before unlocking the door. “Lucky for you, our room is only down the hall.”

It was her turn to smack my ass. “If anyone sees us, Mr. Sebastian, I swear to Hades himself.”

“Oh, Mr. Sebastian, huh? Am I your professor now?” I joked when we stepped in front of our door.

When Y/N was set down on her feet, she crossed her arms over her chest, the wet strands of her hair sticking to her face.

“Are you suggesting a new roleplay?”

She was fucking adorable with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. If she wasn’t careful, I would have pressed her up against the door and fucked her right here in the hallway.

“You like the idea of me dressing up as your professor? You’re my student coming to ask for extra credit?” I teased while leaning an arm against the wall above her.

Y/N gazed up at me through her lashes and dragged a finger down my abdomen, resting at the waistband of my swim trunks. “Only if you wear those gold round glasses.”

“Really,” I leaned away from her. “Those glasses turned you on?”

She shrugged with chattering lips. “You look fucking adorable in glasses.”

I patted her thigh. “Let’s get you inside and warm you up. Your lips are blue.”

Once the door was opened, I let her walk in first, only for Y/N to halt in place with a loud gasp leaving her lips. I stood behind her with a proud smirk on her face.

READER

I stood in place as I took in the sight in front of me with tears gathering in my eyes. Somehow while we were in the pool, Noah had someone come and decorate our hotel room with a variety of flowers, a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice on the table.

“Wh-what is this?” I pointed while looking back at Noah.

He was leaning his back against the shut door, a proud smile on his face. “I told you we would celebrate you finishing your book.”

“When did you do this?”

“Jolly came and set it up while we were in the pool,” Noah said.

I felt my skin prick and burn. “You didn’t tell him why we were in the pool, did you?”

“No, angel,” he snorted while pushing himself off the door and closing the distance between us. “Do you like it?”

I wrapped my arms around his back and rested my head against the cool skin of his chest.

“I love it, thank you.”

Noah placed a kiss on top of my head. “Anything for you.”

We stayed like that for a few beats until he lifted my chin with a finger and kissed me gently and slowly. The amount of passion from this simple kiss made my heart stutter in my chest and my head spin with a feeling I was so afraid of confronting. It had been lingering within me a lot the last week and I kept pushing it deeper and deeper.

But now in Noah’s embrace, I couldn’t ignore that feeling that lit a fire in my veins and made my heart spread warmth throughout my entire existence.

He walked me back towards the bed where the back of my knees hit before I fell onto it, Noah following close behind. His hand grazed over the chilled skin of my thigh before resting over my hip as his other hand palmed my cheek, keeping me in place.

My fingers wrapped around his wrist while I hooked him with my legs around his back. Noah’s tongue brushed over my lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

“Woah,” I said breathlessly. “That was some kiss.”

His eyes burned with so much adoration as he stared down at me, thumb grazing just underneath my cheekbone.

“I have something else we can try tonight. If you’re up for it.”

I nodded, a little too eager. “Always.”

Noah climbed off of me to help me sit up, removing my cold wet shirt and tossing it to the floor. My nipples perked with the sudden chill and he motioned for me to lie back.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

I nodded again. “Always.”

“Close your eyes for me then, angel.”

Doing as he said, I listened as he moved around the room, glass clanking together, and what sounded like him rustling around in his suitcase. The bed dipped next to my head when I felt Noah grab my wrists, pinning them together, and a silk fabric was tied around them.

“What?” I opened my eyes to see him tying my wrists to the headboard of the bed.

My heart rate picked up as the slick wetness pooled between my legs.

Noah peered down at me. “I-is this alright?”

I couldn’t help but smile at how nervous he suddenly became.

“More than alright,” I reassured him with a soft kiss to the anime tattoo on his thigh.

With my reassurance, he finished tying my wrists to the bed and then slipped a blindfold over my eyes.

“If this is too much, let me know.”

Suddenly without my sense of sight or touch, my others picked up and I could hear the slight waver in Noah’s voice.

“I’m okay, Noah. I’ll use the safe word if I have to.”

He patted my thigh softly before he got off the bed only for a few seconds before returning. A bottle popped loudly in the room and I squirmed, my squeals echoed when a cold liquid spilled over my stomach and between the valley of my breasts.

“It’s so cold,” I giggle while writhing in my binds.

Noah’s tongue licked up the liquid, starting at my navel then up between my breasts and I heard him hum in approval.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.”

His hand lifted my legs so I was perched on my feet then spread them wide. The cold liquid was then spilled over my core and when I tried to close my legs, Noah’s grip on my thighs turned bruising; in the best way.

“No hiding.”

“Shit,” I arched my back off the bed when I felt his tongue lap up the juices, my own and the one he spilled before he sucked it with a pop.

My jaw was wrenched open and although I couldn’t see, I could hear Noah taking a drink from the bottle before he hovered over my lips. Suddenly, he kissed me, spitting the juice from his mouth into mine and I groaned in ecstasy as I hungrily attacked him.

Unfortunately, he pulled away too soon and I could hear Noah set down the bottle on the bedside table but was taken aback when his lips met mine in a hungry kiss yet again. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth and I moaned when I tasted myself mixed with the sparkling grape juice.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N,” Noah mused while he kissed down my jaw and neck. “I can’t wait to be by your side as you continue to succeed.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” I joked as a happy tear fell from behind the blindfold.

He kissed it away. “You deserve all of this.”

Suddenly his warmth was gone only to be replaced with an unknown feeling being grazed over my perky nipples and then down my stomach. It was gone for a second and what sounded like Noah taking a bite of something juicy before I felt that object grazing over the same path as before only this time it was wet and sticky. His tongue followed that path and I shivered underneath the touch, still only seeing the darkness of the blindfold.

“If I had to compare you to any flavor, I think this would be it,” Noah’s voice was deep, overtaken by his own lust.

I whined. “Noah, please.”

My body felt on fire with what I guess was the strawberries, as it dragged over every inch of my torso followed by Noah’s tongue. The burn between my legs was a painful ache that I needed to touch. With me not orgasming in the pool, I felt like I was ready to explode with the simple breath of him.

I pulled at the binds. “Please, love.”

I felt Noah stiffen above me. “What?��

“Can you take the blindfold off? I want to see you.”

Suddenly I blinked wildly at the sudden brightness of the room but sucked in a breath when I realized how close Noah was to me; his pupils blown wide.

“What did you call me?”

My brows furrowed as I tried to remember what I did call him.

“Love?” I said again, only this time it was filled with doubt.

Was it too much? Too soon for a nickname like that?

“I’m sorry. It sort of slipped. If you don’t like it-.”

Noah’s hand covered my mouth, hushing my rantings. “It’s fine, angel. I like it. As long as you don’t call me some kind of frozen dessert, love is fine.”

I peered down at myself, eyes widening at the sticky mess he created. My breasts and stomach were covered with the red juice from the strawberry and the chocolate that seemed to melt.

Then resting on top of my pussy was a perfectly shaped strawberry and Noah followed my gaze by perching himself between my legs, his brown eyes peering up at me.

He took a bite of the strawberry and flicked it with his tongue. Anything I wanted to say died on my tongue as I continued to watch him devour the fruit that was still resting on my core.

“No-Noah,” his name came out choked.

“Hm?” He hummed while flicking his gaze up to me, now dragging the half-eaten fruit between my lips and I arched off the bed at the new sensation.

I pulled hard at the binds on my wrist but cursed when I realized there was no way I’d be able to break free.

“Try all you want. I’ve done extensive research in Shibari,” Noah bit gently on the inside of my thigh. “You’re not getting out of that.”

I hissed. “Shi-what?”

“Shibari,” Noah bit then licked up the entire length of my thigh. “Japanese bondage.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Have you been reading my private thoughts or something? You’re two for two tonight on my secret list of kinks.”

His head snapped up from between my legs. “What was the first one?”

I wanted to turn my head away in embarrassment but knew that Noah didn’t want me to hide from him.

“You spitting the juice in my mouth,” I said with only a slight waver in my voice.

Noah’s eyes darkened as his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “You’re bringing out this dark side of me, angel.”

I lifted my hips towards his face. “Prove it.”

His face disappeared when he buried himself between my legs again, tongue and teeth crazing over my clit and I cried out in pleasure.

“I’d say you’re better than any fucking fruit,” Noah said before sucking on my sensitive nub and adding two fingers.

He pumped ruthlessly and I swore under my breath, stars blinding my vision.

“God Noah,” I mewelled feeling the coil in my stomach pull taunt, almost ready to spring free.

My toes curled as my legs went stiff, orgasm so fucking close.

“That’s right, you call me and I’ll make sure you cum, angel,” Noah rasped.

Finally, I let my body relax as my waves of ecstasy washed over me and I came all over Noah’s face and fingers, the noises I made undoubtedly being heard by whoever was in the room next to us.

“Shit,” I breathed, chest heaving.

Noah licked me through the aftershocks while he reached for another strawberry. The juices squirted everywhere when he sunk his teeth in deep and it was then I noticed he had stripped himself of his swim trunks, baring himself naked in front of me as he knelt between my legs. His hair was falling into his eyes in slight curls from the humidity of the pool earlier and I whined at how gorgeous he looked with the red juices of the strawberry and my arousal coating his lips and jaw.

His cock was thick and red, beads of precum spilling from the slit and I licked my lips, wanting a taste.

Noah cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to suck something, angel?”

“Please!” I begged.

Suddenly the fingers he used to finger me were stuffed in my mouth, instantly tasting myself and the strawberry on them. My tongue quickly went to work on cleaning them, humming in approval of the taste.

“That’s it, I want you to taste how heavenly you are for me, angel.”

His fingers were yanked from my mouth with a loud pop but before I could protest, I noticed Noah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, jaw falling slack. I saw his hips still and felt a warm liquid coat the inside of my thigh. His cum covered both of our thighs and the blanket beneath me.

“Shit,” Noah cursed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think-.”

“Untie me.”

He raised a brow. “What?”

My jaw clenched as I spoke through gritted teeth. “Untie. Me. Now.”

“Yes ma'am,” Noah joked while finally freeing me from my binds.

Once freed, I managed to overpower him so that I was straddling him, a look of shock on his face. I reached for a strawberry on the plate next to the bed then once perched over his cock, semi-limp but also hard from his orgasm, I took a large bite of the strawberry so now he was covered in the juices.

I tossed the rest of the strawberry to the ground before licking up the cum from inside his thigh and then the length of Noah’s cock, reveling in the taste of his cum and strawberry. My tongue swirled over the head in fast circles and Noah’s hand grasped at my hair, holding me in place.

The noise that came from Noah’s mouth nearly made me choke on his cock.

Did he just whine?

No. There’s no way.

I grabbed the rest of his cock I couldn’t fit in my mouth and stroked in slow pumps.

Another whine echoed in the room.

Shit.

“Angel,” Noah whined, just before he spilled himself down my throat. “What the fuck!”

I was pulled off of him with a loud pop, his hips shaking from being over-sensitive.

“That’s it, Noah,” I praised with a kiss to the reaper tattoo on his stomach. “I knew you had it in you.”

As he pulled me into his warm embrace, ready to sleep the exhaustion that had suddenly overtaken us away, I didn’t miss how his eyes glistened when I praised him.

“Do you remember your promise?” Noah’s voice broke through the quiet.

I rested my chin on his chest as I glanced up at him. “I’m not leaving you, Noah. I’m right here with you as long as you have me.”

He left a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’m not letting you go, angel.”

I wrapped my leg around his stomach. “The feeling is mutual, love.”

Just before the darkness of sleep took us, I traced my finger over Noah’s chest. “I’m going to move to Los Angeles.”

Noah suddenly lifted my chin to face him, his eyes full of light and hope. “You are?”

I nodded with a wide smile. “There’s nothing for me in Las Vegas anymore. Everything I want is wherever you are, Noah.”

We shared a lazy kiss that was full of passion and I relaxed into his embrace, excited for what the future held for us.

READER

“Mother fucker,” Noah cursed as he bounded down the steps of the stage to where I was standing.

It was the final show of the tour and everything you think could have gone wrong, did.

There were fights all night.

Noah’s voice wasn’t up to par as he was dealing with some kind of sore throat but he wanted to push on.

Folio’s drum broke but that was an easy fix.

Not to mention, since this was the last show, that meant that I was flying back home tomorrow. We didn’t speak of it much only because we didn’t want the bubble we created the last few weeks to pop. I needed to go back home to pack up my apartment and figure out where the hell I was going to live. In the last few days, we spent all our free time looking up apartments only to be broken down when I realized how expensive Noah’s area was.

“Something will come up, angel,” Noah kissed the side of my head. “We can’t rush things.”

“I have less than sixty days to find something. I feel like I have to rush. But these prices are insane.”

Nick set down a cup of tea in front of me as we all lounged in the front area of the bus while it drove us to the next destination.

“Your book is set to be published at the end of the month right?” He asked.

I nodded. “It cleared out my savings so I’m hoping that it wasn’t for nothing.”

Jolly sighed. “You need to stop being so negative. While we didn’t read your book, from what Noah has said, your book will become popular. You already have a great following on your Instagram. Just give it time.”

“I’m my biggest critic,” I shrugged with a sigh.

“That’s why you and Noah are perfect together,” Folio joked with a smirk.

I was brought out of the past when Noah kicked the crate next to me and I grabbed his arm.

“Noah, you need to take a breath,” I said when he turned to look at me.

The vein in his neck twitched. “This was the last show and everything kept getting fucked up.”

“I know,” I rested my hand on his cheek and could feel all the anger leave his body. “But you can’t dwell on it, alright? You can’t change things that already happened.”

He pressed a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I just hate not being able to control things.”

I nodded. “I’ve noticed. Which is why I have a surprise for you.”

Noah raised a brow while he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me towards the green room of the venue. We had plans to drive the six hours from the venue back to Noah’s place where I would take a flight out tomorrow night back home.

We had about twenty-four hours left with each other and I didn’t want to waste it with things we couldn’t change.

“Do I get a hint?” Noah waggled his eyebrows as we stepped through the doorway of the green room.

“Oh, does this have to do with you needing the back room of the bus?” Folio wondered, picking up on the last bit of our conversation.

“Yes, it does,” I stuck out my tongue playfully before I turned back to Noah. “I’m going to head to the bus to get things ready. Text me when you’re done here?”

He smiled and pecked my lips. “You have my mind swirling with ideas, angel.”

I smacked his ass on the way out of the green room. “You have no idea, love.”

Thirty minutes later, I was standing in the middle of the back room of the tour bus, shaking out my nerves. This was big and something I didn’t know how Noah would react. He could get one look at me and slam the door shut in my face. While we did explore a wide variety of kinks in our sex life, this was something different.

I pulled at the red lace over my breasts as I adjusted the lingerie set I had bought earlier today. It was tighter than I would have liked but I did feel sexy the moment I stepped into it. The material was thin, my nipples perking through, and the panties had the shape of a heart cut out on my ass, the breeze brushing across my bare ass.

I had no idea if Noah loved lingerie on his partners or if he liked what I had planned but it was something he needed. Doing my own research on Shibari, I found out that being tied up and bound helped for a variety of different reasons. One specifically: help people who feel like they’ve lost control.

A soft knock sounded on the door and I quickly brushed my hair out of my face while double-checking to make sure the blinds were drawn.

“Angel?” Noah’s soft voice called from the other side.

“It’s open!”

As soon as he stepped into the room, his eyes widened at the sight especially when his gaze fell on me. The tattoo on his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

I shifted on my feet. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he ran a hand over his jaw. “What’s all this?”

“Uh,” I pointed to the floor. “Well, we both have been complaining about how small the bunks are, and with what I have planned, we needed more space. So I pulled the mattresses from our bunk and the two empty ones to make a giant bed.”

The corner of his lips curled up but his eyes were hidden underneath his black baseball cap so I couldn’t see them. He wore a black turtleneck, cargo pants to match, his white shoes in contrast to the rest of him.

“And this?” He motioned over my body.

I suddenly felt self-conscious. “You know, this was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

As I walked past Noah, ready to put whatever I had planned behind me, his arm shot out to wrap around me and tossed me to the floor, gently landing on the makeshift bed I created. His hips locked me into place as he held both of my hands above my head with one hand. Still hidden under his baseball cap, Noah tilted his head at me.

“Did I say you could leave? Especially to walk out there like this?”

I slowly shook my head. “N-no.”

“Good girl,” he mused while leaning farther over me, his lips ghosting over mine.

“Noah,” I whined. “This was supposed to be for you.”

He hummed, fingers of his free hand touching the lace of my panties.

“Fuck, angel. You look gorgeous in red.”

“I-uh-had a feeling you liked red,” I cursed when a finger slipped underneath my panties and between my folds.

“So wet. What do you have planned for me?” Noah brushed his lips over the swell of my breasts.

“Let me show you,” I lifted my legs to wrap around him, somehow managing to get him on his back.

It might not have looked the prettiest but it got the job done as now I was the one straddling him.

“As much as I love this hat on you,” I smacked it off of him, his brown eyes now on full display. “I want to see your entire face with what I have planned.”

On the couch next to us was a bag and I rummaged through it, still sitting on Noah’s hips. He rested his hands behind his head as he watched me.

“Now, I know that you can easily overpower me but can you promise to let me do this?” I asked, pausing momentarily from looking through the bag.

Noah smirked. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Safe word?” That was my response.

His face went stone, eyes darkening as his pupils dilated. “Angel.”

Freeing the rope from the bag, I held it out in front of him. “Take off your shirt.”

Without a second thought, Noah stripped himself of his shirt, and when I stood to my feet, allowing him to kick off his shoes before shimming out of his pants, donning only a pair of black briefs.

“Hands above your head,” I ordered.

Once Noah was adjusted back on the floor with his hands above his head, I sat on his hips once again and began working on the knots I spent the last few days practicing in private.

“Shibari?” He asked.

“You know,” I started, pulling the knots around his wrist tight. “Bondage is more than just sex. It can help people deal with panic attacks or not feel like they’re in control. Their mind is solely focused on the binds and feeling as if they can't escape kind of grounds them in a way.”

“Why do you think I started reading about it?” Noah asked quietly.

I paused briefly to stare down at him, the features of his face now soft.

“I can stop-.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Keep going.”

With his reassurance, I finished up the knots around his wrists and smiled in victory. I then kissed from his jaw down to his neck, all the way down his chest and stomach. Noah’s breathing became slow and steady so when I peered up at him, I noticed his eyes were closed.

I began to pull down his briefs, his hard cock springing free and smacking against his stomach. The beads of precum begging to be tasted so that's exactly what I did.

“Shit, Y/N.”

Noah’s bound hands reached for me and I immediately pulled myself off his cock. Looking around the room, I tried to find something to tie him to so he couldn’t move his arms.

“Oh, perfect,” I muttered while taking another rope from the bag.

I looped it through a free space of knots on the binds of his wrist and there was enough slack with the new rope as I tied it to the doorknob. We were less than two feet away from it so I knew Noah wouldn’t strain his arms if he pulled on it. I also knew that the door was locked and wouldn’t open.

“You little minx,” Noah licked his lips as I positioned myself between his legs again.

“Just enjoy this, love. It’s all about you tonight.”

I grasped his cock in my hand as I lowered my mouth over it once again. My tongue brushed along the underside of it as I began bobbing my head up and down, free hand massaging his balls.

“Fuck,” Noah strangled out, pulling on his bindings.

The door rattled loudly but I didn’t care if anyone heard. As I mentioned, this was for Noah and I wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that.

I worked him upright to the brink, knowing that when his stomach muscles tightened, he was close. So I popped off of him, earning an annoyed groan from Noah.

“Fuck you,” he said with no ounce of venom behind his voice.

I tsked while smacking his thigh. “Such a filthy mouth. Maybe I need to stuff it with something?”

Noah’s eyes flashed as he pulled on his bindings. “I fucking hate I can’t touch you right now.”

I laid a soft kiss on his lips. “Soon, love. If you behave.”

Reaching behind me, I pulled out the last two things from the bag, slipped on the bright yellow mask, and looked back towards Noah.

“Oh,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Fuck, Y/N. Angel. I-.”

I titled my head. “Cat got your tongue, Noah?”

The door rattled even louder now as Noah yanked on his bindings. “Untie me.”

Ignoring him, I gently forced his mouth open and set the grillz on his top and bottom teeth. Noah’s tongue glided over them, huffing and puffing with anger that I wouldn’t untie him.

When he growled, the grillz shined under the light and my pussy clenched with desire.

I wonder how it would feel to have him eat me out with those in his mouth.

Hm, another time.

Noah bit his lip hard, drawing a little bit of blood and I immediately brought his face to mine, licking up the blood as I kissed him deeply. We both moaned into the kiss and I reached between us to poise his cock at my entrance. I wanted this night to drag on but suddenly, I couldn’t wait. I needed him inside of me.

Pulling away from our kiss, I pushed my panties to the side before sitting completely on his cock. Both of our moans echoed in the room as I sat there for a long moment, reveling in the way he felt between my walls.

“So good,” I praised before moving my hips.

The veins in Noah’s arms bulged as he tried to break free of his binds but I refused to let him go.

“Touch yourself,” he rasped, gone in ecstasy.

I did, two fingers pressed to my clit in fast circles as I brought both Noah and me closer to our orgasms.

“Noah!” I cried out when mine hit me without warning, my arousal coating his cock and hips.

“Holy shit,” his head smacked against the floor. “ ‘M gonna fill you up, angel.”

I nodded hastily as he fucked me through the aftershocks, soon enough his warm essence filled me up, just like he promised.

Exhausted, I fell onto him in a heap, burying my face into the crook of his neck. Noah brushed a kiss into my hairline.

“Thank you for this, angel. It helped; a lot.”

I patted his cheek, eyes closed with slumber. “Of course, my love.”

Suddenly remembering he was still tied up, I clambered off of him, his cum running down my legs as I went to work untying him. Once freed, I brought his red wrists to my lips, pressing gentle kisses.

“You might have to explain to the guys where those marks came from,” I said with a grimace,

Noah rolled us over so we were laying on the makeshift bed again, covering us in the blanket.

“I want to hold you till we're frozen,” Noah nuzzled his nose in the back of my neck.

With a yawn, I rested my back against his chest, letting the noises of the bus gliding along the road and the guys moving around the front of the bus lull me to sleep.

“Angel?”

I was so exhausted that I could only hum in response to Noah.

“I hope you know that I’m coming with you to Vegas to help you pack.”

This had me turning over in his arms so I could face him. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat so I brushed it away.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.

He left a kiss on my nose causing me to giggle. “I know but I want to. We can keep looking for places in the meantime.”

I raised a playful brow. “You’re really not letting me go, huh?”

“You’re stuck with me,” Noah kissed my lips.

Wouldn’t have it any other way.

NOAH

Carrying the box down the long hallway, I let my mind wander to how I got here; how we got here.

I never thought all those months ago when Y/N first stepped into that green room behind Britt that my life would change the way it had. I never expected one night of sex would turn into a full-blown relationship for me. But the moment those bright eyes pulled me in that very first night, I knew that Y/N was it for me. She was the only one I wanted.

Y/N was apprehensive at first to follow me on the road, but I didn’t blame her. She was worried all we would do was fight but contrary to that, we only fought once and that was a few weeks ago when we had to spend some time apart.

I had to fly back to Los Angeles for some podcast interviews and Y/N needed to remain in Vegas to finish packing up her place. She still couldn’t find a new place, one that she could afford even though her book sales were flourishing. A week after the tour ended, her book was finally released and was slowly climbing the ladder towards a best seller. It wasn’t there yet but just as I predicted, it was popular. It sold out in a variety of stores around the States.

Even though it was a small fight, it still weighed heavy on my heart. It was almost two weeks apart from each other and our calls were far in between; both of us were busy. Needless to say, we were getting frustrated.

“I don’t understand what you want me to do, Noah. I’m just as busy as you.”

I pinched my nose with one hand while the other held the phone to my ear as I paced my room.

“Yeah I get it but, I want to hear your voice. Sorry for bothering you over it.”

“I never said that!”

I knew it was wrong to snap at her but my anger got the best of me. I hated being so far from her. She told me prior she was thinking of renting a place thirty minutes from me.

“It’s just how it felt! The way you answered.” I sighed into the phone.

“Noah! Come on! If we want this to work, we can’t do this.”

I scoffed. “Do what?”

“This petty blaming shit. Who misses whose calls first or what not? Come on.”

“How do you expect me to react, Y/N? You told me you’re renting a place that’s too far,” I fell onto the edge of my bed.

“Thirty minutes isn’t too far, Noah! And I never said I was renting it. I was thinking about it. There’s nothing else closer. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Just let me find a place, alright? I know something will show up,” I urged her. “Don’t jump into the first place you find without actually thinking it through.”

There was a long beat of silence. “Look, this is a bit too much for me right now. I’m already stressed out as it is, the last thing I need from you is you pushing me.”

I shook my head. “I’m not pushing you-.”

“I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

Once she hung up, I stared at the screen of my phone for less than two minutes as my knee bounced in agitation.

Fuck that. I’m not leaving it like this.

“What, Noah?” Y/N sighed as she answered the phone.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to start a fight. I just miss you, that’s all,” I apologized while running a hand through my hair.

“I’m sorry too, love. It was wrong of me to take my stress and anger about the situation out on you. I’m afraid I won’t be able to find anything close to you.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “We will, I promise.”

She did find an affordable place that was close to me and she signed the lease this morning, us spending all day moving in her things. The guys helped out but once evening came, Y/N rushed them out of the apartment. They spent all day working with us, they needed to rest.

“Here’s the last box from the truck,” I spoke while setting it down on the kitchen island.

Y/N smiled up at me from her spot on the floor, newspapers scattered around her.

“Thank you, love. Is Jolly still taking the truck back?”

I nodded. “You know, I love my house. It’s comfortable. I’ve got a great couch and I go out on my porch every morning to drink my coffee in the sunlight. But I can definitely see myself being comfortable and finding a home here too. Wherever you are is home.”

Y/N rose to her feet and walked into my embrace; my arms immediately encircling around her. We faced the large windows of her apartment as we gazed down to the row of houses that their backyards faced her complex; one sticking out like a needle in a haystack.

“I love that, and I’m very happy you feel safe with me. You’re home to me too, Noah.”

Y/N then pointed to the one house I was already staring at. “Is that the porch you have your morning coffee on?”

I chuckled. “Damn straight. I’ll be able to wave to you every morning.”

These apartment complexes went up across the street from my house about a year or so ago so when one finally went up for rent, I sent the listing to Y/N immediately and she agreed right away; affordable and close by. Within walking distance.

We spent the next few hours unpacking everything, joking about things here and there, as music played softly in the background. I helped put away some of the wine glasses, taking them out of the bubble wrap and carefully placing them in the cabinets.

“They’re all even. Nice!” I muttered to myself, admiring my work.

I turned to get some more when I saw her. Y/N was sitting on the floor fiddling with an object she unpacked herself. She was so beautiful, serene, so sweet.

That’s when it hit me. We have never been closer in this time of love, nor communicated more profoundly with one another, than when she would brush silent lips against my shoulder or when I touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.

All this time, I fucking knew.

I wanted to hide what was pushing out of my mouth, what was about to roll off my tongue- I wanted so badly to keep quiet because of the fear of the unknown.

What if she didn’t feel the same? I couldn’t handle that. Not after everything.

However, before I knew it, it flew out of my mouth like a crow who was easily disturbed and needed to get to its next destination

“I love you.”

Y/N nearly dropped the stack of books in her hands when she rose to her feet, ready to set them on her bookshelf.

“What did you say?” She set the book on the kitchen island between us.

I ran my hand through my hair, a wide smile on my face. “Well, it’s just that I didn’t think this part of my life was ever going to be a thing. I accepted this part of my life would be over or just a series of random hookups until I met you. Everything that happened from the moment our eyes locked in that green room to now just proved to me what I’ve always known. I love you.”

Y/N jumped onto the counter and slid herself over to me and I stumbled to catch her in time as her lips met mine in a heated kiss, teeth and tongue clashing.

“I love you too,” she admitted against my lips.

My heart soared into my throat and I cupped her face. “Fuck, you do?”

She nodded. “I’ve known for a while now but was too afraid to admit it. But now that I’m here with you, creating these two different homes with you, I know I can't hide those feelings anymore.”

I lifted her from the counter, my arms resting underneath the swell of her ass, and began leading her towards the bedroom.

“I love you, Y/N.” I nipped at her bottom lip.

She moaned, scratching her nails against the skin behind my neck. “I love you too, angel.”

With a wink, I tossed her onto the bed. “I like your bed. How about we break it in?”

I kicked the door shut with my foot, the sounds of our love echoing through the new space, creating a home here for the two of us.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens reader

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tamiart · 2 months

Text

I wrote a little romance scene between Halsin and Tav, mostly imagining Halsin’s POV.

Summary: Tav is breaking down under the pressure of the enormous task ahead of her, and Halsin happens upon her.

Since I don’t consider myself a writer, I have never tried to write anything like this before. But I love this game so much, and especially when it comes to these two characters, my imagination is continuously running away with me. I need more material with them, so I tried to create some of my own. I hope you like it.

Midnight Solace

Everyone was finishing up their duties in setting up camp. Halsin looked over to see Tav talking to Wyll and Gale, who were arguing about something as they tried to come up with a strategy for some fight or other, which was now an almost daily occurrence. Tav looked worn out, barely listening to the two of them bicker as she studied a map they had drawn in the dirt. The others were always going to her for help with their problems, and by Silvanus did everyone in this group have catastrophic problems. In all his many years, Halsin had never met such a varied, volatile bunch of individuals. They reminded him of his younger years when every mishap, every mistake, felt like the end of the world.

Tav was the most intriguing to him. She couldn’t be half his age, and yet this young, unassuming slip of a girl had gone out of her way, putting aside her own troubles and fears, which must be plentiful though she never voiced them, for weeks throughout their perilous journey to help many along the way, including himself. She was helping him find a way to lift the shadow curse, which had haunted him for a century as his greatest shame and failure. She had risked her life to infiltrate a horde of nasty, treacherous little goblins to free him - a huge, threatening wild bear that could have tried to kill her too for all she knew. But even in his most savage form, she wasn’t afraid of him.

Halsin had never met anyone like her. He often found himself watching her from across camp as she went about the daily routine that everyone had settled into - helping to prepare their meals, eating, talking and laughing with everyone around the fire, getting ready to go to sleep, preparing to head out in the mornings. He wondered about her as he performed his own duties. He felt himself drawn to her, and realized he was reluctant to leave her side. He was sorely tempted to forsake his druidic duties and stay with her, to be there for her and protect her for as long as she would let him during her quest to save them all. She stirred long-dormant feelings in him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way about anyone.

Later that night, after everyone had sought their bedrolls, rest seemed to elude Halsin, so he gave up and headed towards the woods to lose himself in a hunt. As he walked past Tav’s bedroll, he noticed she wasn’t there. He looked around briefly, but did not see her. Slightly alarmed, he enhanced his senses and picked up her scent trail heading into the forest. Wanting to make sure she was alright, he followed it.

As he approached the stream nearby, he heard the sound of someone crying. He stopped and peered through the trees in that direction and saw that it was Tav, sitting by the water, her head resting on her bent knees. He felt a sympathetic pang to see and hear her so distraught. Not wanting to frighten her, he made his footsteps audible as he rounded a bush and approached her, and she started up and noticed him, and immediately turned away to surreptitiously wipe away the traces of her misery. He felt his heart stir.

“Oh, Halsin,” she said, “what are you doing out here so late?”

“I could not sleep,” he responded, “so I was going for a walk. I could ask you the same thing. Are you alright, my friend?”

At that, she failed at reigning in her emotions and burst into sobs once more.

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered through her tears. “I don’t know what’s come over me tonight.”

He hurried over and sat beside her. “It’s alright,” he tried to reassure her. But she could not stop, and he hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.

His touch seemed to relax something in her and she leaned towards him. He put his arm around her and held her closer. The feel of her sobs shaking her slight frame melted away his final resistance, and he knew then that he would do anything to help this girl. He was lost to her. He held her until her sobs quieted into sniffles.

“What is it, my friend? Can I do anything to help?” He asked her gently.

“No, I’ll be okay.” She sighed.”Ugh look at me, I’m such a mess.”

“You are still beautiful. But stay here, I’ll get something for you.” Halsin quietly returned to his tent and found a clean cloth, poured a cup of water and grabbed a blanket as well, then returned to Tav’s side. She had calmed down and sat quietly staring into the stream with a troubled expression on her face. He draped the blanket around her shoulders and handed her the water and cloth.

“Thank you. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this,” said Tav, wiping her tear-stained face. “They’re all depending on me to be strong. I need to be strong for all of us if we’re going to get through this.” She took a sip of water and put the cup down on a rock.

He placed his arm around her again and pulled her close. “No one expects you to be invincible. You don’t need to carry all of it alone. We’re all here to help you. I’m here to help you.”

She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyelashes. The distance between them was too close. The urge to kiss her was overpowering, and it took all of his will to resist. She needed him to be strong just now, and he would give her his support.

“Thanks, Halsin,” She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “That’s nice to hear. I just… I’m so afraid. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time. Why does every decision have to fall to me? Every time one of us gets injured, I wonder if I should give it all up. Maybe I’m just leading us all to our deaths.” Her voice choked on those last words, and she covered her face with her hands and pulled away from him. “I can’t… that thought… it’s too much to bear.”

“Your fears are completely understandable under the circumstances. We have far too much leveled against us, with no end to our journey in sight. What an incredible amount of pressure to undertake. But Tav, you’ve been amazing thus far. Why do you think everyone trusts you so implicitly? No one else could have gotten this eccentric group of misfits this far, to survive as much as we have. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve managed it. You don’t realize how extraordinary you truly are. My dear friend, we would all follow you anywhere. I would follow you anywhere. If anyone is going to get us all through this, it’s you.”

Tav looked up at him again, a new light and curiosity in her glance. “You truly believe that?”

“With all my heart.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Oak father preserve him, Tav had him wrapped around her finger. “Thanks, Halsin,” she whispered into him. She looked up at him again, and her face finally softened into a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Tav, I - “ he tried to find the right words. “Please know that I’m always here for you, if you ever need to talk about anything. I will do my best to help you, in any way that you need.”

She was still looking up at him, her gaze searching. She was so beautiful, he could hold back no longer. Cautiously, he lowered his face down towards her, watching her expression as he did so. She did not pull away, and her lips parted as her glance fell to his mouth. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted the salt of her tears as he kissed her, and she kissed him back, tentatively at first, but quickly growing more eager. Her lips were full, soft and warm. Finally they both had to pull away, gasping for air. He had to stop now before he took things too far. He couldn’t ask that much of her just now in her current vulnerable state.

Tav stared at him, stunned. Then as if suddenly realizing where she was, she blushed and gave him a shy, tentative smile. “Wow,” She gasped as she found her voice. “What was that?”

“I’ve dreamed about kissing you for a long time,” he confessed to her.

“Really? But I didn’t… I thought… you’ve never…” Tav stammered.

“I know. I didn’t want to do anything to upset you or harm our friendship. And I didn’t want to distract you during such a crucial and difficult time. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, to let you focus.”

Tave let out a breathy laugh. “Well, it’s a very welcome distraction.” She hesitated, then looked up at him shyly once more. “I’ve been thinking about that as well, with you.”

He wrapped her in his arms once more and held her in silence. They sat together, listening to the night sounds of the forest and the babble of the nearby stream. Gradually, he felt her relax in his arms. Her head began to droop against his shoulder. He could have stayed this way all night. But reluctantly, he gently shook her awake.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he told her. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

She sighed. “You’re right.” She stood up and handed the blanket back to him. She tried to return the cloth as well, but he told her to keep it. She seemed reluctant to go. “Thank you, Halsin. This was… it means a lot.” She smiled at him once more.

And she was gone before he could respond, leaving him alone once more in the woods, the blanket in his arms, all of his senses full of her, and his mind a whirl of thoughts, emotions and desires.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x tav #bg3 headcanons #bg3 romance #bg3 fanfiction #halsin fanfic

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maximumkillshot · 4 months

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Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming.

A/N: Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself.

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail.

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.”

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often…

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless…

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.”

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster.

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that.

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection.

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.”

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are.

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…”

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do.

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink.

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke.

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide.

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air…

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.”

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.”

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again.

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you.

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload.

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear.

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.”

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again.

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends.

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell.

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you.

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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joons · 2 months

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This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

#please know that for each of these stories i have tried to see things from her perspective #and then something happens again #and again and again #so i have simply stopped trying and accepted that i don't like her or find her credible as far as these things go #i don't imagine i should be privy to all their family drama so of course some of this may change over time #but there are far far far better sources for learning about elvis!#an easy gateway would be ashley's adventures and elvis fans matter on youtube!#ashley does a lot of fun documentation of graceland and efm is the family channel of billy and jo smith #they are elvis' cousin and his wife who were with elvis a lot and they have good human stories #same caveat goes for them: they might not know everything #but i just like the format better than books

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obsolescent · 10 months

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So glad people are pointing out the OOC writings that are being created.

It’s nice to have headcanons, I have some myself that I use in my own writing. Headcanons can give more life to the characters, building on their lore. But, many are just taking whatever fantasy they have in their heads and projecting it onto a character with no regard for how that character really is.

It would be better if those who wrote those type of fanfics would have a disclaimer that the content is OOC but majority don’t. I honestly haven’t seen that tag in years.

Just to name a couple characters I’ve seen it really hit, like, sorry but Ghost is definitely not abusive or toxic, and Leon Kennedy is the most awkward, kind character I’ve seen canonically. It surprises me that more people aren’t connecting with these characters on a deeper level, just using them at surface value. Aren’t delving into their lore and creating work based on that. So much could be written about these two.

The more serious work I’ve written hasn’t received hardly any attention and when things I’ve written that involve sexual situations has easily hit 100+ notes. Just seeing it firsthand is…Disheartening?

“Sex sells” is really a phrase that can sum up a lot of fan fiction that gets attention nowadays. There isn’t anything wrong with that, it’s just whenever you go to the tags it’s all you see. More serious work is drowned out and gets lost.

This is all to say that I wish to find others who write more serious work. If you do please let me know, I would love to see your stories and check out your writings!!

#o text #i’m kinda nervous to post this but i needed to rant #and find more who write more serious work!!!!#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty

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nanowrimo · 10 months

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Writing Tips for Every Age and Mental State

Not every piece of writing advice will apply to you — and that’s okay! Sometimes, your writing strategies will change as you go through life or learn more about yourself. NaNo Participant Clara Ward shares writing advice that they've learned over time.

There’s no right way to write. Writing—like life—is about finding your best fit. What follows are tricks that worked for me. Please borrow what works best for you right now. (Then save a few ideas for future you!)

I wrote my first novel four decades ago, when I was thirteen. I’ve written while juggling three jobs or zero. I’ve written as a kid, a parent, and an empty-nester. I’ve learned from my own neurodiversity and mental health challenges along the way.

Each struggle taught me how to customize my writing practice. Here’s a list of what worked for me at different stages. Adapt as you see fit.

Stage 1: Meet Yourself Where You’re At

Outline - For my first novel, I sketched furtive notes on the back pages of a school notebook. I created headings for each page that became section or chapter titles later. Numbers helped me order the scenes and letters delineated details.

Note: Leave extra space for fun facts or snippets of overheard dialog. Years later, I heard a NaNoWriMo buddy joke, “Careful, or you’ll end up in my novel.” My apologies to my high school geometry teacher, who received no such warning.

Avoid Distractions - I needed a closed door to write at first. I couldn’t read other fiction during the week or two when I frantically converted my outline into a rough draft. Luckily, I wasn’t in charge of meals back then!

Stage 2: Find Your People

Give Yourself Permission - I first heard about NaNoWriMo in 2004, when I was parenting, working, and volunteering as if there were two extra days in each week. I hadn’t written a story, an outline, or notes in over a year, but I knew exactly what I wanted to write. I signed up for NaNoWriMo and opened a family meeting by showing the webpage to my spouse and kids. I explained how I’d budget four hours a week for writing in November.

Note: I didn’t complete 50,000 words that first November. But the next year, my kids enthusiastically joined the Young Writers Program!

Enlist Support - Eventually, my kids and I designated one hour each day for writing. There were many distractions, but it felt great! We attended NaNoWriMo write-ins at a donut shop to build community, and my kids each persuaded a friend to join. (Yes, donuts are a sometimes food, but at least they weren’t asking for coffee!). With support and determination—and for me, a bit of sleep debt—we all met our writing goals most years!

Stage 3: Embrace Your True Strengths

Emotion Mapping - In the last couple decades, as attitudes and terminology evolved, I’ve learned a lot about my own neurodivergence and mental health. Oddly enough, the self-knowledge I gained by masking and compensating before I knew those words, informed both my writing and the tips given above. As I became more honest with myself, I brought more emotion to my writing.

Note: Sometimes it helps to skip scenes I’m not in a good headspace to write. I jot down key plot and character points inside curly brackets and skip to a scene that suits my current feelings. Since I don’t used curly brackets anywhere else in my writing, they’re easy to search for when I’m ready to go back.

Fascinations - After years of being warned about “info dumps,” I realized that my own fascinations (neurodivergent or otherwise) were assets that could serve my writing. At the beginning of 2020 I did a deep dive into researching sea creatures and ways to protect our oceans. At the back of my research notebook, I gradually outlined my 2020 NaNoWriMo Novel, Be the Sea. Parts of that outline cross-referenced pages of ocean research or articles I’d saved online.

Note: The system above worked well enough for me that I now have a book deal for Be the Sea, which will be published by Atthis Arts in early 2024!

Seriously though, this isn’t a post about how to get published on a 40-year plan. By matching your writing practices to your ever-changing self, you give all your stories the chance to be told. I wish you and your stories that success!

Clara Ward lives in Silicon Valley on the border between reality and speculative fiction. When not using words to teach or tell stories, Clara uses wood, fiber, and glass to make practical or completely impractical objects. Their short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Decoded Pride, The Arcanist, and as a postcard from Thinking Ink Press. Clara’s 2020 NaNoWriMo novel, Be the Sea, will be available from Atthis Arts in early 2024. For updates on this and other projects, follow Clara on their website. Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva from Pexels

#nanowrimo #writing #writing advice #writer's life #neurodivergent writers #for parents #inspiration #by nano guest #clara ward

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nolita-fairytale · 9 months

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burn your life down: the director's cut, or rather, fun facts about this story now that it's over

luca's last name in my fic is davies, and formally davies-bernardi. bernardi in italian means 'strong as a bear' which, was truly a perfect coincidence that i originally thought it sounded good hyphenated with davies. it felt like the perfect little nugget to drop in here.

this one kind of took on a life of its own. I thought maybe a headcanon or a few chapters, then 46.5k words later... before writing a fic, i always like to map out where i'm going, because it helps me zero in on what story i want to tell. as someone (and who hasn't, truly) who has plenty of abandoned fics, i like to get clear on what story it is i want to tell before beginning to write so that i know it's a fic worth writing for me. no, i don't think finishing a fic should be a marker of success, but where i'm at right now, it feels like the best way for me to see if i have a story to tell or not.

speaking of stories to tell, the reason i wanted to have our main character divorced was because i wanted to try something different. i wondered how i could differentiate this mc (while keeping the reader neutral so you could picture yourselves in it if you wanted to) from others that i have written / will write in the future. the divorce and growing apart is actually kind of inspired by my previous upstairs neighbor who i met a year after his divorce. i wanted to imagine what the inner world of someone who had experienced a divorce that wasn't messy, but its relationship had just run its course and i the end, left two people who weren't sure who they were and how to talk to each other anymore would be like.

music and playlisting really helps me envision and feel into the world that I’m building. I ask myself questions like: what does their love sound like? what does this relationship shound like? how do i want the world i'm building feel, and how do i convey that in sound? and then of course, what songs could underscore certain moments of this chapter? listening to the playlist i create as i go really helps me get into character aka enter the world of the story when i'm sitting down the write.

so many of my fics and interactions are based on my own real life experiences, which is why they often feel so human and so real. i weave in little details like conversations i've had, a person i reminded of. i often write dialogue after i've imagined the scene in my head down to the cadence of how characters speak to one another to make sure it feels grounded.

speaking of, we've got to talk about the food in this fic, something that you all complimented me on at the very beginning! it was important for me to have the food feel deeply personal to reader, and be an expression of her identity through the years. yes, i wrote it with an mc with asian heritage in mind. however, i wanted to make space, again, for you to picture yourself in this fic, which is why mc's ex and family were written with japanese heritage.

a lot of the dishes were inspired by dishes i've had that were similar to what i think her culinary pov would be, and a lot of it is the way that i cook as well. i am not a chef by any means, but i am AM a home cook who occasionally does pop ups who very recently discovered my own culinary pov. food for me is something that not only helps me express myself, but has helped me connect to parts of my own identity. in so many ways, as someone who describes themselves as a cultural melting pot, food helps me feel closer to myself; it helps me find and define, and express who i am.

the culture of food and the role it plays in allowing us to connect was really important for me to weave into this story as well.

for the mikkelson twins, i pictured timothee and pauline chalamet as jesper and mathilde.

for the kimuras: rina sawayama would play astrid, darren barnet would play joe, and gia kim would play lina.

let's talk about luca's character development: so many things were so will poulter-coded/borrowed for will poulter, which felt right to do considering he wove his own life into the luca's tattoos. examples? the nike book, the kendrick lamar on the playlist, how much internal work the man has done on himself.

in the end, I initially had mc have a way bigger freak out than she did -- that it would be her final: holy shit am i ready to be loved moment, but as i wrote it, it ended up being luca who brought up the main conflict. it just ended up going in a different direction and didn't feel right to go with my original plan, because she felt so in their relationship already that i pivoted.

i watched a lot of travel and lifestyle copenhagen vlogs because i'm obsessed with youtube.

after season 2 of the bear, i wanted to explore what positive relationships with mothers could look like in these characters. that's why mothers (and single mothers) are the superheroes of this fic.

i knew i wanted this fic to be about these things: second love, loss, trusting the beginning that comes after the end, inspiration, following your heart, and mothers. these are the guiding principles that i used when writing, knowing that these were the pillars i wanted this story to be about.

looking forward: i am working on two oneshots that will live in this world, one about marcus visiting again -- an eat, pray, love for him of sorts -- that's about mothers and loss and life. the other one is a fun, sexy little smutshot that will hardlaunch their (she and luca's) restaurant so keep an eye out for those. truthfully, i've only just started workshopping the marcus one and am prioritizing finishing my carmy fic first.

opening myself up for q&a! feel free to ask any questions about this fic or my writing process in the comments.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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the-possum-writes · 15 days

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I loved the fire fin stuff you wrote, Can you write more headcannons about him and the reader trying to keep finn distracted while also trying to turn him back, pls

Subdue the Flame

➼Character: Fire Finn (Finn Mertens)

➼Tags (warnings): headcanons, canon typical violence, gender neutral reader, mentions of servitude, sloppy kisses, misogynistic comments

➼Synopsis: Fire Finn headcanons about distracting him in a fight during the Elemental special.

➼With the fire citizens heading for the Candy Kingdom it's up to you and Lsp to try and de-escalate the situation, mainly with you trying to defeat Flame Princess's newest champion while Lsp retrieves the jewel from Princess Bubblegum.

➼"Are you sure you can handle him? I mean he already beat you once, it’s like a more intense version of Finn... It’s lumpin hot." Lsp mutters as the two of you scout the area.

"Yeah, we just gotta improvise a bit. At least knock him off his sense until I use my secret weapon and defeat his hot headed butt for good!"

"You sound way too eager about this. But no dude you got it all wrong! the real Finn is still in there somewhere you just gotta play into his hero heart ya know? pull one of those 'I know the real you is in there somewhere' kind of speech."

It's hard not to roll your eyes at Lsp's dramatics, but if she's trying to tell you to solve things pacifically first, then sure why not. Like don’t get me wrong, of course saving Finn is a priority but knowing this prick fire version of him, it’s gonna take more than heartily speeches to subdue him.

"By all means, be my guest."

➼It goes as expected, Fire Finn just walks past her spewing something about war drums and threatens to slice her down if she tries to stop him. This is where you come in.

➼You're the only one who can confront Fire Finn either cause you're physically strong enough to match him in a fight or you have the mental fortitude to deal with the stuff he'll say in hopes of saving him.

➼Like, the guy was pulled in and created in a toxic and violent environment so that leads me to believe he's bound to say some hurtful things and make fun of you with low hanging fruit. For example, if you're a gal (or female presenting) he'll spew some misogynic comments about how he's biologically stronger "You don't stand a chance against me, I'm all hardcore muscle." or "You'll regret leaving your sewing room this morning."

➼If not, he'll still boast about how he's stronger than you and will wipe your face on the dirt.

➼Uses insults too. Mainly stuff like: nerd, loser, mouth breather, girlie, wimp, roach, useless scum, motherless bastard, to think of a few.

➼I don't know if he'll fight honorably (since the other fighters have kinda roman gladiator inspired designs) or fight dirty, but now that I think about it he'll most likely do the latter. He'll kick you in the shins and throw sand at your eyes, that's how he gets the upper hand when fighting you.

➼Dominant, ruthless and a huge show off. Overtime he gets too cocky.

"You're too much of a wimp, I bet I can beat you with nothing but my hands."

➼To mock you further he kicks away your bag and your main weapon but not without stabbing his own sword into the ground before approaching you with cracked knuckles, wrestling you into the ground as he continues to belittle you- albeit with suggestive undertones. "Once we're done with these candy nerds they'll be nothing left but cinders and ash. Maybe then I'll take you back to the fire kingdom as my personal training dummy... All for myself~"

➼You don't know if you're reading too much into this whole fight, but It's now that the physical contact makes sense. He tightens his hold on you, purposely grabbing you where you're most sensitive (that would make you blush any other day) before tossing you around like a sack of potatoes, the pain is real but it started giving you an idea.

➼If there's one mistake he's actively making it's that he's completely underestimated you and your brain power that compensates your lack of extra brawn to beat him on a one on one.

➼"Oh woo is me, you're obviously the better opponent. Might as well start getting used to serving you as you deserve." you cry out, causing Fire Finn to quirk a nonexistent eyebrow. He grips your hair by the back of your head, purposely raising you to his eye level.

➼"And how would you start serving me?" He asks, suspicious of your change of attitude but quickly allured by the promise of servitude.

➼You momentarily lick your lips, it's subtle but hypes you up for what's to come. "Like this," and you lean forward to kiss the fire elemental on the lips completely unprompted. It's a risky move, and considering Fire Finn isn't returning the kiss you're 90% certain that he's gonna slap or throw you away but the second you attempt to remove yourself from him he instead tightens his hold on your hair and pushes you back into his eager mouth, opening it up as his tongue dwells all around yours in unexpected wanton. You try your best to reprocitate but he's completely controlling in this situation as well, now holding your face with both hands as he gives you the sloppiest kiss you've ever had.

➼Underestimating how sharp his teeth are, you cut your tongue on it and has you groaning at the unpleasant metallic taste in your mouth, fidgeting in the spot as you try to pull yourself from his hold but it only served to rile him up further, running his tongue over the wound.

He eventually pulls you away to catch his breath, completely devouring your breaths as you exhale to take in the fresh air.

➼His reaction is more enthusiastic than you expected. In fact it's his crazed expression that ultimately snapped you out of your foggy daze, immediately taking advantage of his unguarded walls and you kick him where he counts.

➼Now he's the one falling like a sack of potatoes.

➼You suddenly rush to your discarded backpack as you hear him shout angrily behind you.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT! I WILL MAKE IT TORTUROUS FOR YOU! I WON'T REMOVE MY HANDS FROM YOU UNTIL YOUR WAILING AND BEGGING FOR RELEASE BY THE TIP OF MY SWORD!"

➼There's no time to ponder what kind of punishment he's talking about since he's immediately back on his feet and just a few steps away from you, but the second you grab your hidden weapon it's over for this fire elemental. You pull out a plastic water gun and spray it all over Fire Finn, watching him shout in agony as he steps back as you blast him into submission until he lays beaten on the ground. "This is why you need a safe word my dude." You finally spew a well deserved taunt.

➼And to make matters worse and more humiliating for the fire kin, you snap a fireproof collar around his neck, courtesy of Wizard Betty.

"What is this contraption?!"

"It's a little something from a friend, a temporary solution until we find out how to turn you back to normal."

➼With a sigh, you sit back as you watch the fallen warrior attempt to rip out the collar only for it's safety mechanism to activate and spray him with cool water, like one of those automatic car window things.

"I DEMAND YOU RELEASE ME!!"

"You're not in a spot to make demands my dude, so unless you wanna turn into a popsicle you'll have to follow me." You eventually stand up with a more nonchalant attitude compared to earlier, still wincing a bit since your safety now doesn't take away that Fire Finn pulled a heavy number on you.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" He threatens, but the collar activated again before he could lay his blue hands on your neck.

"Maybe, if you say please~?"

"DIE!"

#adventure time x reader #adventure time imagines #finn mertens x reader #finn the human #finn the human x reader #adventure time

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