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toorusluvr · 2 years

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… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ F.O.M.L ࿐ྂ - FUSHIGURO TOJI

characters: coach!fushiguro toji x volleyball player f!reader

cw: college!au + volleyball!au + penetrative s*x + missionary + slight impact play (slapping)

word count: 1.9k

note from nis: f.o.m.l stands for fucks or makes love. the skipped scene is intentional by the way :))) i didnt want to drag unnecessary stuff so i just got into the smut part.

Everyone in your team was talking about what they should wear for the event tonight. Your college volleyball team finally made it to the final round of collegiate level, together with 10 other colleges from other states. Tonight’s event is a remarkable day for each and every one of your team members, including your coach.

Your coach, Fushiguro Toji, though he’s not really friendly and very strict, has worked so hard to get your team to this level. Coach Toji has been with your college’s volleyball team ever since 3 years ago when you first joined the team. The man’s body is literally sculpted and his abs can make everyone else around him drool at the sight of it.

He’s well, uh, not really fond of using nicer words. Surprisingly, it’s effective how being straightforward can lead your volleyball team to victory. His lead successfully brings justice to how hard your team has worked for the past few years, despite your college not wanting to boost your team’s potential.

With Coach Toji’s help and determination, your team finally made it to the top. Which is why your team was beyond excited to attend tonight’s event. You sure didn’t miss their genuine smiles and laughter in the locker room trying to decide which dress they should don tonight. Everyone’s happy, and so do you.

“Alright, girls, chop chop! Hurry up!” the assistant coach yelled from the bus’ door, asking your team members to hurry the hell up because she didn’t want to be late to the party. She informed you guys that Coach Toji was already waiting at the event.

Not wanting to get on the man’s nerve, you guys literally ran in your heels to get on board. After the assistant coach ensured everyone was there, she told the driver to start driving. Chit chatters filled the bus as you slowly felt yourself falling asleep on the shaking bus.

Once the bus arrived at the venue, your team members walked to the banquet hall together. As soon as you stepped foot into the hall, the familiar figure of your coach came into your sight. He was with… a woman. You have never seen her before.

Oh, right. Coach Toji kinda has a girlfriend, he mentioned it before maybe once or twice. Only because several other staff members were asking him about it.

The woman was linking arms with Toji, talking while smiling to each other together with a few other unrecognised faces. An uneasy feeling coiled in your stomach as his piercing gaze met yours. You diverted your gaze hurriedly, not knowing what to do because you aren’t exactly close with him either.

Yes, he is your coach but that does not mean you have a close relationship with him. He seems… unapproachable most of the time.

Your teammates gathered around the bar, whispering to one another while eyes fixated on your coach’s figure, stoic expression on his face as always, who was having a conversation with some other people. He was too busy with them, not sparing a glance to the team under his care.

“Hands to God, I’ve never seen our coach with a woman before. I almost thought he is… not straight,” one of your teammates opened her mouth, sipping on her cocktail after dropping the bomb out of the blue.

Your teammates gasped, all heads nodded in agreement. They all thought of the same thing. Today was one of the rarest days in history– seeing your coach with a woman!

Another one of your teammates’ laughter erupted, disrupting the momentary silence. “He looks… so fond of her. It’s unlike him. He almost killed us during practice but he looks different today. It makes me think… does he fuck or make love?”

Your drink almost spilled out of your mouth hearing the ridiculous question. The said teammate was known for her unfiltered words. Her question was out of pocket. But, your teammates’ response was the same as your answer.

“He definitely fucks,” the girl beside you grinned, laughing sinisterly before taking another sip of her cocktail drink.

Your teammates laughed. Their laughter echoing in the venue, all heads turned to the sound of their laughter. Your head hung low, not wanting to grab the others’ attention or accidentally meet their eyes.

“But he looks fond of her! My bet is on ‘makes love’,” another one of your teammates spoke but this time it was a different answer. Her answer was the opposite of the majority’s vote. All heads turned towards her, the looks on their faces showed concern.

Someone cleared their throat and your teammates let out an almost audible gasp. “I’m sorry. Just making way to the drinks,” the gorgeous woman apologised as she made her way to the bar. She was hesitating to interrupt the conversation that caused her to hear everything.

Your teammates were in full panic mode when Coach Toji’s girlfriend broke the conversation. Shit. She definitely heard your stupid bet on her boyfriend’s sex life. Their sex life. Shit happens and that’s fine.

“Sorry,” your teammates apologised under their breath. Coach Toji’s girlfriend dismissed their apologies, saying it’s fine and turned on her heels.

“He definitely fucks,” the woman took a sip of her drink, her red lips wrapped on the glass, slowly sipping on her drink as she locked gaze with the rest of your teammates. “It’s nice meeting you, girls.”

And, she disappeared into the crowds with her heels clicking on the expensive marble floor.

Your teammates definitely got goosebumps. You looked at her figure disappearing and blended with the crowd, something swirled in your stomach at that moment.

“So, whatcha say, doll? I told you that your posture needs to be more flexible,” the voice grunted softly as he pushed your legs above your chest, his thick cock penetrating your tight hole with force. You writhed in pain trying to adjust to his size.

“Pl-please, it hurts,” you gnawed your teeth into your bottom lip as Coach Toji pushed your legs further above your head. The tip of his cock was pushed inside you inch by inch, slowly bottoming out but the girth, it made you scream in agony plus the pleasure. He’s so big and… and it hurts so good that you could never look at him the same again after this.

Coach Toji felt your whole body squirm underneath him. His purpose for doing this was to test your flexibility, he said. But that was not at all his intention. The man had been eyeing you ever since he joined the club. Such a pretty thing. So delicate and fragile. He wants to break you, spoil you with everything he has to offer, and teaches you to be tough because you are so weak. So weak underneath him moaning and whining his name.

You were helpless. As much as you would love to hate the fact that you’re being used by your coach like this, you also wanted this to happen. It started when you had a dream about Coach Toji and it wouldn’t stop there. You wanted to feel him— feel his hands all over you and inside you.

“Bend your legs more, doll. Did you not hear a word I just fucking said?” He seethed, a firm slap across your face that subconsciously made you moan in pleasure. Did you just moan from being slapped? That definitely crossed one item from your bucket list.

Coach Toji does not tolerate disobedience. Ever. He tells you what to do, you fucking follow what he says.

He bent your legs, pushing the plush thighs against you. Your back arched, his cock hitting deeper into your g-spot. It was new. The whole feeling you experienced right now was new. Toji was introducing you to plenty of new things. Instead of telling, he preferred to show you it instead.

The pressure of your legs pressing onto your abdomen almost killed you. Coach Toji didn’t give you time to stretch your body, hence the pain. His hips started rocking slowly to build his rhythm before bringing your hand over his shoulder. Your hand was placed on his built muscle, nails clawing on his glorious skin. The bite of your teeth on your lips hurt. But not as painful as how Toji’s cock was stretching you out and pushing your orgasm over the edge.

Coach Toji grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes. His hair stuck on his forehead, sweats dripping on his temples. The sound of his grunts while burying his cock deep inside you drove you insane. The size of his cock that you couldn’t fit at first but now your cunt clenching around it and wouldn’t be the same without it.

“You’re so fucking tight. I love how you taste, doll,” he smirked. The scar on his lips inched upwards, showing how fucking attractive this man is. No other man could ever match the standard Toji has set for you the moment his rough hand touched your delicate body.

You moaned, eyes shut closed as his hips roughly snapped against yours. Toji won't stop until you come for him. His massive hands circled around your thighs, tightly holding your thighs together binding them close so he could fuck your tight cunt. The position only made you scream louder.

His pace was harsh and fast. ‘Coach Toji definitely fucks.’ You suddenly remembered the stupid assumption your teammate made just a few days ago. Now, you are his fucktoy, all his to use. He got you all to himself to satisfy his needs.

Coach Toji noticed the hazy look on your face. He gave a deep thrust— a sudden one that snapped you out of your thoughts. “Fucking look at me when I am fucking you, doll. My cock got you all dumb, huh?” His hand tapping your cheek firmly.

Your breath staggered, not knowing how to respond to his words. His piercing gaze looked down on you, his hips ruthlessly fucked your drenched cunt. The sound of his balls slapping against your plush thighs filled the silence. Your moans slipped out and he shut your mouth with an angry kiss.

His teeth bit on your lower lip in an unforgiving motion. You moaned in his mouth, your eyes locked together. “I’m close,” the last word dragged in a whiny voice. The tight feeling in your lower stomach filled your system. Your mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, breathy moans escaped past your lips at Toji’s unforgiving pace. God, it made you want to scream louder and louder until you squirted around his cock.

But, Coach Toji was a better man. He knew you were close, and so did he, so he pulled out his cock, leaving you empty. His rough fingertips found your clit and he rubbed on the sensitive bundle of nerves furiously. Your breath was getting out of control, your hands gripping tightly on his shoulders leaving crescent marks on his skin.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna-” you started to squeal in a high-pitched tone. His fingers flicked your clit mercilessly until you squirted like you desired in your wet dreams. Coach Toji watched you struggle to keep your thighs open as you continued making a mess on the couch.

You panted heavily from the crazy orgasm you just had in your entire life. Coach Toji definitely fucks so hard, you ought to tell your teammates but that will jeopardise everything.

Coach Toji was determined to test your flexibility again. He definitely would work you out the next time he wants you again.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut

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twistedapple · 7 months

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On cherry and musk

EDIT 28/10/2023: Part two of the Perfume Rant is bout, about Astarion this time! + added a correction regarding the sulfur part.

EDIT 3/11/2023: Part three of the Perfume Rant is up, this time I talk about my OC, Nuria.

EDIT 28/11/2023: I kept forgetting to make that edit but I added a comment regarding the cherry and how its sickly sweet tone is usually used in perfumes to express death.

Hello hello.

Because Raphael's perfume, according to Yurgir, is exactly the type of scent that makes me lose my mind while being quite uncommon for men perfumes IRL, I've decided to go on a bit of perfume rant because I really like perfume in general (which is funny considering my autistic ass easily goes in sensory overload, especially atm with my state of autistic burnout).

To introduce the topic, I'd like to present some generalities about perfumes, so you know what I mean once I start losing my mind about why Raphael's scent would drive me crazy IRL (someone at Larian knows their shit about perfumes).

Perfumes are, most commonly, made with an alcoholic base (the Middle East also has an oil base), because the ingredients used to create the scents are more soluble in alcohol than water. There are distinctions in the types of perfumes once can find, based on the concentration of scented molecules:

Perfumed mists: less than 3% of scented molecules, low duration over time;

Colognes: the weakest concentration in perfumes as we usually know and use them. It has a long history as well, and was first worn by men;

Eau de toilette (here, understand that it's a perfume associated with cleanliness): count between 5% and 15% of scented molecules;

Eau de parfum (lit. "perfume water"): count between 10% and 20% of scented molecules. These perfumes are more expensive because they're more concentrated, however nowadays they're still commonly found in stores;

Extrait de parfum (perfume extract - pure perfume): count between 15% and 40% of scented molecules, the high concentration means it has to be used with care.

Now, why do we wear perfume? Everything around us as a scent: the soap used to wash our clothes, the food we cook, the deodorant we use... Our own skin has a natural scent. Wearing perfume is a way to control our scent and define our olfactive identity as part of our self-expression and sense of fashion. With hormones at play, not every perfume works with anybody - for example, Hesperide-type perfumes don't suit me, but work wonderfully well on my mother -, so the way a perfume sits and ages on one's skin is just as important as one's personal preferences in term of scents. Interestingly, for some decades now the most common perfumes tend to have a "clean" scent, which matches with Western standards of cleanliness. However, the goal of perfumes being self-expression, they also tend to tell a story based on the way the notes develop and work together.

We have various categories for perfumes, which involve the styles based on the families of notes, the time of the day and the seasons.

The main families of perfume are Floral (self-explanatory), Chypre (woody scents), Oriental (spiced scents), Hesperide (citrus scents) and Aquatic (water-like scents). These families can be mixed in the scale of notes to obtain a more complex scent. For example, Floral scents tend to work well with Oriental and Hesperide tones, Hesperide tones work well with Aquatic ones, Oriental and Chypre scents can be associated to create heady perfumes...

The times of the day are either Daytime or Nighttime. Daytime perfumes tend to be lighter, while Nighttime perfumes, often worn during events or at clubs, will be stronger since they compete with other stronger scents.

Seasons also influence perfumes, some molecules won't last as well in Summer as they do in Winter for example. On the other hand, some molecules will have a harder time expressing themselves in the cold of Winter, so heavier scents may be needed.

A perfume is organised in three layers to unfold its story:

Top notes: the very first notes, which usually don't last much but open the impression of the perfume;

Heart notes: the core scents of the perfume, around which the story is built;

Base notes: the lasting notes of the perfume, which close the story.

There is also two ways a perfume works:

Sillage: the trail left by a perfume;

Projection: the perimeter in whih a perfume can be felt.

Feminine and Masculine perfumes tend to be quite different as well. Feminine perfumes tend to lean on floral and fruity scents, while masculine perfumes will be more in the Aquatic and Oriental family with leather and musk tones. This is where I start my rant on Raphael's likely amazing perfume.

Fruits are rarely used for masculine perfume, to the point I'd say it's a grossly ignored scent family for men. Some years ago, I crossed path with a man in the metro who had the most amazing perfume, with raspberry in distinctive top note, unfolding into a warm woody scent. This is what got me into perfumes, because I had to find out what perfume it was - the most likely candidate is One Million by Paco Rabane, but even then I am not sure. This is a very specific and striking scent, precisely because it's so uncommon for a man to wear. With that in mind, let's remember what Yurgir said Raphael's scent is: cherries, musk and sulfur. I suspect we can take these notes in the proper top-heart-base notes, because they'd make sense that way both in term of perfume composition and as a mean to tell Raphael's personal story.

Cherries make for a sweet, enticing top note, perfect to express Raphael's ability to charm his victims clients. Cherries' sweetness is also often associated with the sickly sweet smell of death, and is used for that purpose in perfumes following that theme. Considering what signing a devil's contract entails, it's quite fitting.

Musk is a common note both for masculine and feminine perfumes, but it tends to be used as a base note. This time, however, it'd make sense to have it in heart note for at least two fantastic reasons: to draw people further in with a warm and sensual note, and because the base note serves to close the story better than musk.

Sulfur as base note would be extremely smart. One might ask me "but Crow, doesn't sulfur smell like rotten egg?" And that would be a pertinent question. It wouldn't be the first time a strange ingredient is used to complete a perfume by providing unexpected results. Here, we're not just talking sulfur, we're talking brimstone. Mixed with the other notes, however, it creates a smoky scent that serves to hint at Raphael's nature as a devil (gotta smell like Avernus!), and also provides a strong support for the sensual musk by adding depth to it.

We also have Raphael's boudoir invitation described as having his perfume: palmarosa and pepper. These scents tend to be heart notes, to compose a refreshing spicy floral: palmarosa is a floral scent with a citrus tone, pepper is what it says on the tin and is considered an aphrodisiac scent. Fitting the boudoir invite, considering the presence of a certain incubus... This addition in the heart notes would counter-balance the musk nicely and contribute to a layer of complexity with a surprisingly feminine tone: floral oriental notes are rarely used in masculine perfumes. However, here I think it serves to express refinement through complexity - something people often associate with Raphael, who presents as a noble (and is, by the Nine Hells' standards, a noble in his quality as Mephistopheles' son), as well as frames himself as an agreeable host who can offer many pleasures to his guests and clients (as long as they have something to provide in exchange - cue the sulfur as base note to remind of Raphael's diabolical nature).

Yurgir describes Tav as bearing Raphael's scent. Raphael was near Tav, which makes me think his perfume has projection rather than sillage. It'd make sense for Raphael to have a perfume more oriented towards projection than sillage: he'd want to let people know he's here, and it's a subtle way to dominate the scene as well in a magnetic manner - and we know Raphael has an imperious tendency, even in his handwriting, so having it expressed in his perfume as well would make sense.

To conclude, Raphael has fantastic taste in perfume in my totally biased opinion (this sort of perfume is a shortcut to make me swoon IRL), and what has been confirmed as being his scent/perfume serves to subtly support his characterisation and tell a story both to us players and the people he deals with in the story.

#not twisted wonderland #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael's perfume would make me OBSESSED #keep this post under the arm if you want to understand what I'm doing with my OC's perfume as well #I REALLY LIKE PERFUME I'm serious when I talk about storytelling in perfumes

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urf1lterr · 1 year

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lovesick | pedro pascal [3]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [4] previous chapter: [2] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 5.7k

status: in progress

author's note: in my head i have a certain way this story ends- but thats farrrr from this chapter. i couldn't stop laughing while writing this. i might have to rethink my ending bc i don't wanna make this series looooong. not edited.

Brutal banging on your bedroom door was not how you imagined to be awakened, especially when you were barely endearing maybe four hours of sleep.

Jolting up, you could feel your shoulders begin to ache as your severely tangled hair got stuck on the insides of your shirt. The shades in your room being shut, you had no sunlight whatsoever so you weren't sure what time it was.

Not like you needed to be anywhere important on a Wednesday- not until later anyway. Wednesday's were your arranged day off from school so you made sure to plan something productive to not feel more useless as you already were.

Typically, you were scheduled to work on these days- but we all know how that ended.

Thinking about your unemployment status aggravated you. The same day you were told you were going to be cut was actually your last despite being scheduled for the rest of that remaining week.

Oh how you wish you could say you didn't show up because of your stubbornness.

But frankly you had covid.

Not only did that job fire you, but they gave you a thoughtful farewell gift of a deadly virus to remember them goodbye.

Guess they took their storyline a little too seriously.

However, you did receive a few texts from your old coworkers wishing you well. At first, you wondered if Finn disclosed your personal medical information after you contacted him, but Jules admitted to doing so, swearing she only told Joon with the likelihood someone overheard and the rest was history.

Sadly, you barely talked to Pedro and Bella anymore.

The duo did reach out once they discovered you were sick and Bella would occasionally send you tiktoks at the most randomly times. But again, occasionally.

Pedro, on the other hand, never got back in touch after his 'feel better' text.

You weren't exactly distraught over it, it wasn't like you two made it your mission as friends to go out every day. But the thing was, you still did that when you worked together. Barely seeing him for a few seconds on some days in the past still meant you got to see him, but now you don't.

And strangely you miss him.

You always heard your coworkers discuss how considerate and down to Earth he was whenever they managed to work with him and you agreed. All the stories of him being one of the rarest, mindful human beings were true.

He was always the one spamming you with texts, but the only messages you received now were from your roommate, Joon, or the deals sent by your favorite food places.

But you weren't going to think too much of it. He's an adult, his days are always scheduled with new projects. You can't blame him for not making time for you.

Two weeks later here you were, using your extra free time to your advantage to stay up past midnight watching shows like Hell's Kitchen while eating ramen noodles.

The only con was you had the tendency to wake up late all the time.

Yanking the warm covers off your body, you slowly slip out of bed trying not to hit your desk by how poor your vision was at the moment. Opening your door, you give daggers to the other person behind it. "Is there a reason why you felt attempting to break my door was necessary?"

Jules sheepishly smiled, lightly rubbing the door in remorse before continuing. "I just wanted to remind you about our study date!"

"That's at 11."

"It's 10:32," she replied, pulling her phone out and showing you.

Gasping, you shut the door in her face before searching for clothes to wear. How could you possibly sleep in?

Actually, it was quite easy with American Horror Story having amazing plot twists. You decided to switch up your late night shows every now and then to spice things up.

But you were certain you turned on your alarm the night before. You must have slept through them. Damn, you were turning into Jules.

Quickly running to the bathroom to take a quick shower, you managed to finish the rest of your routine with ten minutes left to spare. You were certainly glad you could always count on the city's nonstop traffic as an excuse for your late arrivals.

Once you were able to catch a cab, which was a tremendous struggle considering your hand signals weren't clear enough to apprehend, Jules and you made it to a coffee shop a few streets away.

Being your designated place to study, you had to introduce Joon to it. He was practically the fifth member of the group, the third one being one of Jules' friend you frequently talked to and the fourth being the one you shared with Joon.

The best part about this cafe would have to be that it was two stories. You guess you could say you used the upstairs room conveniently when it came to debating, definitely not being afraid to raise your voice when your friends believed disagreeing with your opinions was acceptable.

"I didn't know a triple meant three shots of espresso," Joon pulled a disgusted face as Jules and you arrived to your familiar large booth. Sliding right next to him, you saw the coffee he was drinking was extremely dark. "I thought it meant three shots of creamer."

"For a guy who is phenomenally smart, you are phenomenally stupid," you heard your shared friend, Yoongi, comment after looking up from his notes.

The next hour consisted of the five of you centralizing your attention on your individual work before you decided you wanted to buy a coffee as your energy slowly drained away.

Walking down the stairs and placing a swift order, you stood to the side of the counter waiting as they prepared it. Scrolling through your phone to pass the short time, you felt someone near you.

"Hey, covid girl!" you heard a man exclaim, causing you to rush and shush him before the customers begin giving you the eye. "Long time no see."

"Don't expose me like that! I'm negative," you flush, tapping your fingers on your face to cool it down.

"Don't expose me," he clarifies, taking two steps back. "You're the one who's sick."

"Was," you groan, not standing for his teasing this morning. "Stop messing me with me, Nick. I am just a tired, broke college student who can't take anymore mocking in their life."

Nick chuckles, not denying that may be the case. He understands how you're feeling, he was once a student and knows how stressful it can be. Honestly, he can only imagine how tough it is now compared to when he last attended.

Inflation was no joke.

"I take it you're studying?" he eyes the large black frames on your head and the thick headphones around your neck. You only nod, making him laugh. "Very studious I see, it's a shame they let you go even after I told them not to. You could've done our taxes."

Pulling a forced smile, you just raise your right shoulder slightly not really wanting to talk about it much.

"Good thing I am very understanding," you joke.

"Hell, I wouldn't be," he curses, shaking his head briskly. "The least they could've done was offer another position while we left the country."

"When are you guys leaving anyway?'"

He looks up at the ceiling, trying hard to remember the exact date before clapping his hands. "The 3rd of next month."

"Three weeks from now? Are you ready for the cold and the snow?" you laugh as he shakes his head.

"Dealt with it growing up, don't wanna do it again," he groans before a barista calls out his name for his coffee. He excuses himself for a minute, grabbing the coffee along with a few napkins before walking back to you. "Have to get back to filming, they only gave me a half an hour break before we change scenes. Good look in university, kiddo. If you ever need anything you always have my number."

With that, he retreated back outside but not before sending you one final wave. You loathed the fact you missed them, but you had to get over it.

Grabbing your coffee once your name was called, you walked back up the stairs to find your friends staring at their own laptops as if they were going to breakdown in tears any second.

"When I tell you I would rather give up one of kidneys than learn about screenwriting," Jules weeps, pulling her hair in distress. "I just wanna tell people what to do, not write stories."

And that's how your whole study session went, one of you having your own malfunctions for the next few hours before the five of you agreed to end it.

"I am going to get a refill, meet you by the door?" Jules asked as you packed up your school belongings. You nodded, allowing her to walk downstairs with her friend as you stayed behind with the two other boys.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Joon called out as the three of you were making your way down the stairs. "I'll be out in a jiffy."

With that, Yoongi and you were stuck around a large crowd of customers trying to get their coffees in this 5 o'clock chilly evening. And one thing about these customers, they loved to push.

"If one more person hits my arm a brawl will unfold," Yoongi proclaims, making sure to raise his voice a bit to make his point come across. Which did nothing as he was granted another push in his arm in return.

Moving you head towards the exit, you made it clear to Yoongi that you two were better off just waiting outside unless you wanted to continue being compressed by total strangers whose been god knows where.

Feeling Yoongi's loss of touch from your shoulder, you sensed a group of friends rudely crossing between you both in order to make it to the front of the shop.

It amazed you how people had no manners in public places.

"Ah!" you shriek, feeling somebody aimlessly hit your body hard, knocking the wind out of you as you fell on your side.

That was until arms wrapped tightly under your upper arms, barely being able to stop your whole body from touching the ground as you felt you legs lay across the cold floor.

With the strong pair of arms effectively pulling you up, it caused you to slam your body against their unknown chest as the mob of customers didn't seem to die down any time soon.

Trying to find some stability, your eyes widened as your peripheral vision was met with a broad chest that you were too scared to figure discover who it belonged to.

This could either end with you meeting the love of you life or encountering a complete weirdo.

Moving your gaze upwards, you were met with familiar brown eyes that creased slightly as a gentle smile was released.

Okay, the second option was indeed your answer.

"Pedro? You fucking scared me!" you pushed him away, slapping his chest as he whined in response, clutching it in pain. "I was going to grab my pepper spray!"

"I see you're still satan," he glared as you crossed your arms. "No 'thank you for saving my severely mentally mad life from the mass of people who could've stamped over me'?"

Expressing an infuriated expression as he scared you, you begin to walk away from him but he quickly pulls you back into his arms and stares down at you. "Why are you leaving?"

"My friends are outside," you declare as he peers over the crowd to see who you were talking about.

He glances back down at you before pushing you straight by your waist, causing you to trust his guidance as he directed you backwards until you were against one of the walls to avoid being crushed again.

"Wait, my friends-"

"You wear glasses?" he slightly grasps the frames propped on your face, generating a strike from you. "What a dweeb you are."

"Isn't this a question you can ask through text?" you remark, causing him to purse his lips at how mediocre you were being.

"Oh come on, kid! I haven't seen you in weeks, it's my right to ask questions," he defends, giving you a staggering look as you sighed.

"And my glasses were the first thing that came to mind? Very clever."

"Would you rather me ask why we say 'cool' when it's not really cold?"

Studying his face in pure boredom, you set out to march past him but he pushes your shoulders back again, forcing you to stay put. "Sorry! Just trying to lighten the mood."

Scanning past him, you tried to locate your friends but to no luck they were absent. Glancing back up at him, you take a deep breath. "I really have to go before they leave me stranded a-."

"I can take you home," he instantly speaks up. "I know where you live remember."

Laughing, you disagree with his proposal. You arrived with Jules, you were leaving with her. But you were curious as to why he hasn't left you alone. It surely couldn't be just to chat about corny jokes-

Actually, you've had many of those conversions in the past.

"Is there a reason why you aren't letting me escape?" you blurt out, making him tilt his head suspiciously, trying to figure out what you were speculating.

His body language became edgy as he motioned his palm out in front of you. "I just so happened to drop by for some coffee and ended up being tackled by you," he confessed, making you scoff. "We haven't talked for some time, I wanted to check up and see how you were doing."

"I am as happy as a clam," you let out a radiant smile, making him squint his eyes and direct them to the side.

"English, please?" he pleaded.

"It means I am very happy," you respond, standing up straighter as he questioned you longer with his eyes as if he didn't believe a single word you were saying. "Everybody knows that expression."

"They really don't," he denies, giving you an awkward smile by your strange dialogue. "Anywho, I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you call?" you accidentally spit out, shutting your mouth as you grasped how bitter it came out.

He caught onto the sound of your tone, registering how unhappy you must've been for abandoning you friendship after strongly bonding for two months.

But he couldn't let you believe he did it on purpose, he had a reason. One that he was finally going to disclose after fighting battles until it was finally approved. "I was preoccupied with something else, I really am sorry," he apologized. "But I was going to reach out today."

Uncomfortably shrugging, you don't put too much thought into it. You didn't want him to assume you were upset, but you had a feeling he could sense it by how tense you were becoming.

"For what?"

He looked around before averting his eyes back to your own, grinning widely. "So I think there's a chance you'd be able to get your internship back."

Standing up straighter, you stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?

"How? They already terminated our useless contracts," you argue. "Why hassle making another one."

"Work for me," he ignores your sour tone, getting straight to the point.

This was why he didn't have time to communicate. Too busy trying to find ways to convince his own boss to keep you, it led to him being in a bad mood after failing each attempt.

He couldn't talk to you knowing his plan went wrong.

After the constant begging, whines, and even going out of his way to format a ridiculous petition as to why you should stay, which centers all interns because he didn't want to throw himself under the bus for you- the main producer eventually gave in.

"You want me to work for you here when you're leaving the country in a few weeks?" you narrow your eyes, confused as to how that was going to work out in the end.

"I was going to sneak you into my suitcase."

"What in the world are you rambling about?" you exhaled sharply.

Pedro grinned brightly as he held onto your shoulders again, "Come with us to Canada."

"No," you quickly answer, not even processing fully but you knew it could never happen.

There was no possible way you could ever go through with this. For one, you can't even leave the country. You parents were so strict they'll probably smuggle drugs in your luggage so you'll be gunned down and locked into the country.

Second, well there really isn't another reason- your parents were enough.

"Oh come on," he whined. "It'll be great! You'll gain so much experience like you've been wanting. Plus, you'd do more hands-on work with the film crew. Think of it as a student exchange program."

"That's literally not what a student exchange program is."

"Stop rejecting the idea. You go to school here, yeah? I assume you're taking classes online because you basically lived at the studio," he implied and you slowly nodded. "We can adjust your schedule to where you'd have time to work and focus on school."

Silently looking to the table nearby, you began digesting what he was going on about. It wasn't a bad idea, but it wasn't an easy one either. "My parents would never let me."

"Give me their number and I'll convince them," he persuades and you sway you head. You wanted to laugh in his face if he really believed he could make your parents agree.

"No," you fight back, watching him exhale loudly by how restrained you were being. "I k-"

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Immediately shutting your mouth, you freeze as he catches you off guard. He did not come to play and knew you well enough to use your weaknesses against you.

He knows Matt Healy would easily agree- that man was literally the devil's spawn.

And god, you just knew Matt would be disappointed in you if you didn't go.

Curse you and your infatuation over this short English man.

Luckily, your thoughts disappeared as you felt a tap on your arm. Looking up, you see Yoongi breathing heavily as Pedro eyes him, unsure if you knew him.

"There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere! My god the lecture your friend gave me about losing you-" he groaned, shivering. "-I was certain she was gonna file a police report."

Slowly averting his eyes to the older man beside you, Yoongi's face fills with curiosity. "Hey, aren't you that one guy from that Netflix show..." he stops, looking up as he tried hard remembering the name. "Narcos!"

Pedro's eyes shoot open as he tries to innocently stretch his body, purposely blocking your view of him, "No." Secretly waving his palm across his neck, he sends Yoongi daggers to keep quiet. Stiffly turning to you, he becomes flustered. "But don't watch that show."

Raising a brow, you decide to drop the random topic and focus your attention back to your friend until you heard another person shriek. The three of you searching to where it came from, you find Namjoon stumble between people, trying his hardest not to fall face first on the floor.

"A jiffy later and I'm back," Joon winks once he's released from the mass.

Pedro scrunches his face. "Jiffy?"

Joon breaks out into smiles once he notices who was with Yoongi and you. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Did you miss us that much?"

"I don't think it was you he missed," Yoongi muttered, making Pedro send him a questionable glance and Joon tilt his head, not sure what he meant.

Wanting to leave this now weirder conversation, you step forward and grab onto Yoongi's shoulder. "Let's go, I wanna breathe." Turning your attention back to Pedro, he swiftly moved his eyes from your hand to your own. "Text me if you need anything else."

"Only you," he sends you a cheeky smile making you blush by how nice he was being. Yoongi glanced at the two of you, dazed as what you two were implying.

Staring at him, you waited for him to say his farewells first so everybody could leave already. Waiting for one, you never received anything but his quiet stance and gaze stuck on you.

It felt strange not feeling the strength to walk away- not even the strength but the need to go anymore as you couldn't take your eyes off him. It also wasn't only you as he couldn't help but bear comfort from the sight of you.

It felt like the both of you were interacting to each other in your minds.

"Are you having a staring contest?" Joon questioned, making your your consciousness come back to life as you looked back at him. Pedro's gaze weakened, but they were still on you as yours was unfortunately long forgotten.

"No," you laughed, now gripping onto Yoongi harder. "But seriously, let's get out of here. See you whenever, Pedro."

Watching as you stayed close to your guy friends in hopes of being secured through the populated room, he sighed to himself. He was sure your friends might confess their own intuitions to you and perceive him as a creep.

The sad part was he knew why your particular friend would have his suspicions. He never knew his age would have that much of an effect, but he never hung out with people that young before unless it was for a project.

Shaking these thoughts away from his head, he chuckled to himself. He shouldn't care about what other people thought, the two of you never engaged in anything but friendly encounters.

He just despised his gut feeling as if he was doing something wrong. People are making him feel this way, that was guaranteed.

But he feels awful how he keeps trying to find ways to see you, too embarrassed to think about the things he done just to see you for not even a minute.

He's just never had a friend like you before. It was nice.

"I can't believe he's offering us a job like that!" Jules exclaimed as Joon and you nodded. Yoongi lived in the opposite direction so he made his departure a few minutes ago as well as her friend. "I can't go."

Widening your eyes, you stared at her. "What? Why?"

She laughs before pointing at herself. "You think I'll be able to properly manage school and work in another country? I barely did that these last two months- I'll just be partying it up at hockey games eating gravy with fries."

"You mean poutine," Joon corrected.

"Same thing," she rolled her eyes. "All I'm saying is, being home made me realize how much I love sleeping. I would rather give that up when I graduate and actually have a real adult job."

She did have a point, she really enjoyed her naps.

"I'll consider it," Joon spoke up, putting his hands inside his hoodie as the three of you continued walking. "Doesn't sound too bad, it'll look good on resumes."

Smiling, you nodded. You weren't sure why you even dared to be happy about this when you were the one wanting nothing to do with the idea not even a half an hour ago.

You just knew your lord was giving you a disapproving glare from the clouds.

Within the next 20 minutes, Joon went his separate way home as Jules and you arrived in front of your shared apartment. Rushing to the bathroom, your roommate excused herself for the next hour for her 'needed' relaxation.

In other words, a bubble bath.

Turning on the tv, you sat down on the couch swiping through boring news channels until you decided to switch to Netflix. You still had to make time for Evan Peters before the night ended.

Clicking on the current season you were on, Freak Show, you began thinking about how massive Evan Peter's hands were. How can his girlfriends survive.

The thought freaked you out, this really was a freak show.

Soon, the next episode began featuring Twisty the clown more and you were terrified by how huge he was. He could crush you with a flick of his fingers.

Knocks on your door alarmed you, making you slightly jump and look towards the bathroom. Your roommate's music was softly playing in the background meaning she probably couldn't hear the blows on the door.

Slowly standing up, you grab the bat you keep near the door, in case someone tries viciously murdering you in your doorway, and go on your tiptoes to see what kind of stranger needed to pay a visit in the middle of the night.

Well, it wasn't even 7 o'clock in the evening yet but you get the point.

Gasping at the sight presented through your little peep hole, you promptly unlock the handles before extending the large door wide. "And why exactly are you here? Miss me that much?" you tease.

Not receiving an answer, you scoff. "Are you really giving me the silent treatment? You're hurting my feelings."

When he didn't react to that either, you felt your face drop. Slowly striding towards him, you notice his head was low as he stared at his shoes. Placing your right palm softly on his left shoulder, you felt him glance up.

Did something happen during your short time apart? Was he in trouble?

Knowing it was really you in front of him, Pedro lunged his body onto yours before you could stop and think about what was happening. Colliding his lips upon yours, you felt your thoughts drift away as he steadily moved forward and made his way inside your warm apartment.

Stopping to swiftly shut the door, you had no time to take in a full breathe before his mouth found yours again. Clutching the back of his head, probably pulling his hair out, you groan as his nails claw your exposed waist, your shirt slowly inching up more and more as the seconds went up. Slipping his tongue inside you, you felt the way his nose hit yours as dominance took over.

He wanted to control all of you.

It wasn't until your legs began wobbling from the long standing when his hands lost your waist, instantly making contact with the back of your thighs, squeezing them, soon allowing them to suffocate his sides. Following his lead, you pull your lips back before diving them to the corner of his jaw as he groaned, walking to god knows where.

You figured out where once you shrieked as your back made contact with your couch, his palms widening your legs in a hurry before situating himself on top of you. Surprisingly, the difference of weight wasn't an issue as he clinged harder against you, moving his hand behind your neck to pull it down, making sure to make you feel the pain of the slight hair tugging.

"What are y-" you softly choke, voice coming out in whimpers as he ignored you. Latching his lips to the top of your chin, he stuck his tongue out, dragging it gradually down your neck as your back arched, needing to feel closer to him if that was even possible. Your wish was his command as he hastily pressed himself against you, making you groan in surprise.

Making his way lower, he passes your neck down to your chest while his hands found their to your collarbone, smoothly rubbing the area up and down before clutching onto it harshly as he continue down his path. Something about the way his soft fingertips applying pressure near your neck as his lips kept kissing the rest of your body had you in wonders. You couldn't believe this was happening.

It wasn't until you felt his mouth near your exposed waist that made you completely lose it. You had long forgotten that Jules was in the room next door when you gasped, feeling his teeth swipe against your skin. "Shhh," he whispered against your lips as a way to silence you. "Don't want to let your friend know I'm here now, do we?"

You could only stammer shaky sounds as he planted a few more deep kisses, slowly pulling away and feeling the wetness of both your mouths descend down. He gave you one last dark gaze before returning his mouth on yours, loving the feeling of the dampness between your faces.

His mouth opening wider, he began intensively tasting you, swiping his tongue around your lips as you tried to keep up with his eagerness. Not giving you much time to catch his pace, you could feel how wet he was making you.

No, he was literally drowning your face.

Pulling back, you squint your eyes and take a few seconds to adjust to the poor lighting in your living room. You were met with dark, green eyes.

Lady Gaga.

Shrieking, you grab the black, green-eyed demon on top of you and throw her off, causing her to let out a loud hiss with the immediate sounds of footsteps following afterwards.

"Lady Gaga!" you hear Jules squeal in her pink robe, wrapping the nauseating cat in her arms before turning to you, giving you a look of rage. "Did you throw her?!"

"She licked me!"

Jules scoffed harshly before hurling a nearby pillow at you, allowing it to hit your face in full force before stomping back to her door and violently slamming it shut.

You fucking hated that cat.

Laying back against the couch, you rubbed your red face in humiliation. Not only did you have an intense dream about Pedro but you're pretty sure you just had a full on make-out session with a cat.

Groaning, you couldn't believe what was happening to you. Why would you dream about him-

No- why would you have one doing not so child friendly activities?!

You just know you'll never be able to face him with a straight face, too embarrassed to even be near him now without thinking about this moment.

It wasn't even like you thought about him in that way- you didn't.

Maybe your time of the month was approaching or you were in desperate need of a date because there's no way any normal human being would fantasize over some older man that way.

Okay, maybe it was possible.

But that was definitely not you...even though you just did. Although, you did see the comparison between him and Lady Gaga.

They looked kind of alike- right? Same whiskers.

One thing that was certain was you were never going to tell anybody about this. If people believed for one second you had feelings for him, which you don't, you'll never hear the end of it.

He was not your type nor close to your age. It would never happen.

Sighing, you close your eyes and silently send out a prayer to not engage in another session with the demonic cat. Maybe sleep will make you think clearly once awoken and abolish all these wild concepts floating through your head.

But once you were actually awoken, your mind still wasn't clear- or maybe it was because the pounding on your door ultimately pulled you from your slumber.

Stretching your arms, you scratch the top of your head as you try to open your eyes but it was no use, you were way too tired to fully engage with anybody right now.

Completely avoiding looking through the peep hole, which was a red flag on your part, you swing the door open to find a man who looked like Pedro standing on the other side of it.

Groaning aloud, you slap yourself as he takes this by surprised, not sure why you just did that.

How are you having another dream about him? Was this the bad luck needed after scoring tickets to your favorite band? Is this some kind of sick revenge someone has against you?

Pointing at Lady Gaga, who was dressed up as Pedro, you rudely spit out the words needed to be said. "You are just a cat. Nothing happened between us."

With that, you step back inside, ignoring Lady Gaga's attempts of trying to gain your attention by waving their arms in front of you. Making your way to your room, you see Jules walk out of hers.

"Who was that at the door?" she questions, hearing another round of knocks appear.

You tiredly wave your hand in nonsense, denying that thought. "It was Lady Gaga, go back to bed."

Jules sends you a bewildered look as you enter your bedroom and face-plant on your cozy bed, allowing sleep to reel you back in. Turning her head, she looks at Lady Gaga who was sitting casually by her bedroom door.

"She is turning fucking nuts," she whispers to herself before swiftly opening the door to reveal a very confused Pedro. "What's up?"

Pedro's concerned face takes over his actions as he jumps to his eager questions. "Is y/n okay? She thought I was a cat."

Jules shrugs, rubbing her eyes with her palm. "Who knows, I think she's getting over her coffee hangover."

Pedro carefully nods, still skeptical as to what happened to you. What did you mean nothing happened between you two? Did something happen that he wasn't aware of?

Were you hiding something from him?

Gracelessly gesturing his leave, Pedro walked quickly down the hall as Jules stood there for a moment too tired to comprehend why he paid the apartment a visit this early in the morning. The sun was barely out, why did he come?

After shutting the door and taking a seat on the couch, she laid back and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but for some reason a strange intellect emerged out of nowhere.

She shrugged it off, instantaneously knocking out, too exhausted to conquer her suspicions.

taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #tlou #tlou joel #pascalispunk #joel miller x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedropascaledit #fanfiction

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byuljoonie · 8 months

Text

Never Goodbye // myg

It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again…

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: one shot, angst, fluff, quick smut, rash decisions

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of mental health, mentions of past SH/scars, sad-ish smut, d-day tour, swearing, almost oral (m4f), dom!suga sub!reader, unsafe sẽx, creampie, fluff if you hate fluff.

note: My depression has been hitting so hard lately. I will re-edit tomorrow, I’m exhausted and can’t double check tonight. I love Min Yoongi, I will backflip for him. In all honesty, when Yoongi did his first live since being gone for a while, I ugly sobbed over my iPad. I missed him so much and the thought of him leaving shook me to my core lmao. Though I’m overdramatic, I am a proud military wife for 3 so far of 7 husbands. Enjoy the one shot and feel free to submit requests to the link in my bio, and listen to some of my playlists also in the bio. I will post Ramo Buchón and this story on Ao3 next week. -dubu

I stood in the dimly lit record store, surrounded by rows upon rows of vinyl records, each a portal to a different musical era. I held in my hand the debit card my thoughtful boyfriend, Yoongi, had given me to use this afternoon. He had gifted me a beautiful scarlet record player, and now I was on a mission to fill it with music.

The store was a treasure trove of musical history. Rows of records stretched out in every direction, organized meticulously by genre and artist. I traced my fingers along the spines, feeling the nostalgia emanating from each one. Rock, jazz, classical, pop – it was all there, waiting to be explored.

My indecisiveness was palpable as I contemplated my choices. I would pick up one vinyl, then another, carefully examining the album artwork and reading the tracklist. Yoongi had given me complete freedom to choose, and I wanted to make sure every selection was perfect.

In the midst of my contemplation, my thoughts drifted to Yoongi. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the way he had surprised me with the record player earlier. It was clear that he knew just how much I loved music like him, and he wanted to share that passion with me.

As I continued browsing, my eyes suddenly lit up when I spotted the records I had been searching for. There, among the vast collection, were albums by Queen, Mac Miller, Lee Moonsae, and Diana Ross – artists whose music had shaped my life. I felt a rush of excitement as I reached for each of them, holding them close as if they were precious treasures.

With a heart full of gratitude for Yoongi's thoughtful gift and a bag full of vinyl records, I headed to the checkout counter. I knew that each record I had chosen would be a soundtrack to special moments shared with Yoongi, and that made the indecisiveness and the joy of discovery all the more worthwhile.

My collection is finally growing again and I’m so grateful to him. I checked out quickly, holding a brief conversation with the nice blue-haired woman at the counter. Thanking god for the half empty store, I stepped out into the cold air. I called a taxi on my phone and waited the everlasting 10 minutes as I nearly froze in place.

The sleek navy-blue car pulled in front of the little store, a middle aged man stepping out of the drivers side to open the door for me. I thanked him as he grabbed my bag and set it in the trunk for me. The short drive back to our apartment was quiet, the hum of NPR coming from the radio piercing the silence. The heater blowing directly at me.

We pulled up to the tall building hurrying so I can escape the cold air. I grabbed my bag from the man and tipped him extra for his generosity and service. I scanned into the building making my way to the elevators past the front desk. After I exited the elevators I grew more excited to see Yoongi. I skipped happily to our door, putting in the key code.

I’m greeted by the smell of air freshener and our puppy running up to me. Excitedly licking my hand and wagging his tail. I closed the door setting my bag on the small table near it and then taking off my shoes.

“Hi baby!” I said cheerfully looking at Yoongi as he walked over to me. He grabbed my waist and placed a kiss on my check, making his way down to my neck. Resting his head on my shoulder as he held me. I felt like putty in his palm, moving to grab his face and plant a kiss on his lips.

He hummed into the kiss, letting his hands sneak around my waist to my ass. I giggled and pushed him away immediately, missing the feeling of his hands on me already. He pained a hurt expression and I gave him a knowing look. He was supposed to be packing but the laundry basket I left him to sort through seemed to be almost untouched as it sat idle by our sofa.

“Min Yoongi why is your laundry still folded neatly in that basket?” I questioned pointing to his clothes and resting a hand on my hip. “I needed a break,” he said nonchalantly, walking to go sit back on the sofa. He was precious but we have things to do and I can’t let his cuteness distract me. I grabbed my shopping bag from the table and walked over to Yoongi, sitting on his lap so I could show him the merchandise.

“Let me show you what I bought and then I’ll go start on dinner while you actually pack,” I said smiling at the way he rested his hands on my thighs. I took the vinyls out of the bag, setting the first two on the sofa cushion next to us.

“First I got this classic Diana Ross record, but I can’t hold in my excitement anymore!” I said grabbing the Mac Miller record and handing it to Yoongi. I watched as his eyes light up in excitement. “I know I was supposed to be shopping for me but I couldn’t help myself.” I said starting to tear up. I didn’t want to cry but the emotions are hitting hard, Yoongi leaves in a few days.

“Thank you so much baby I love it,” he said setting the record aside to kiss me softly. Yoongi sighed as he stared down at me on his lap. I noticed the worry in his eyes and sat up placing a hand on his cheek. “Are you okay my love?” I probed gently.

“It’s just…I can’t help but worry about leaving you alone again while I go on tour. Your depression and anxiety, I’m afraid they might worsen, and I won’t be there to help you when you need me the most,” Yoongi said staring deeply into my glossy eyes.

I smiled warmly at his confession, cupping his face in my hands. “Min Yoongi, it’s so easy to see why your parents named you light. You’ve helped me through so much already, you are my light. I’ve learned so much from you about handling my emotions, and even on my worst days, just a phone call with you can calm me down. I’ll be okay baby, I promise,” I choked out.

Yoongi looked at me for a second, seemingly analyzing me. He nodded slowly pulling me into a tight hug. “I know you’ve grown stronger, but I can’t help but worry. You mean the world to me Y/N,” he said as I buried my face in his neck.

“And you mean the world to me too, Yoongi. We’ll get through this together, just like we always do.” I said hugging him tighter. We stayed in our embrace for a while, finding comfort in each others presence. Eventually I break the hug and get up to go make dinner, while Yoongi starts to sort through his laundry basket.

“I guess I’ll actually start getting my things in order,” he mumbled to himself with a huff. He stood up flinging open his suitcases, and throwing in a few items he eyeballed. I giggled at how unenthusiastic he was being.

“I’ll help you pack after dinner Yoongs, you know I have to double check and make sure you have everything you’ll need.” I said busying myself at the stove. After I mixed the pasta, I told Yoongi to set the table while I change and I’d be right back.

I retreated to our bedroom, eager to change into my comfortable pajamas. As I shed my days attire and donned my soft, oversized pjs, my eyes involuntarily drifted to the prominent scars that crisscrossed my body, momentos of a harrowing time that altered my life.

A wave of sadness washed over me, recalling the challenges in my journey to recovery. Moments of doubt crept in, but just as I was about to get lost in my melancholic thoughts, I heard Yoongi’s voice gently calling me from the dining area.

“Babe come on I’m hungry and your food smells too good,” he whined cutely as I walked into the dining room. I placed some pasta in his plate and sat in the chair across from him, unconsciously tugging at the short sleeves on my shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Yoongi hummed in delight at the taste of the cream pasta, and I quietly chewed along. It didn’t take long for us to finish our meal, I stood up making my way to the sink, grabbing the dishes from the table. I started washing dishes, mindlessly humming one of Yoongi’s songs.

“Why’re you so quiet tonight sweetheart?” Yoongi questioned as he walked up behind me. I felt his hands wrap around my waist, he then pulled me flush against him. “Talk to me Y/N,” he said in my ear, leaving a soft lingering kiss behind.

“I’m sorry I just don’t feel the best, honestly, I feel like a burden. All these ugly scars already make me feel less than, but the thought of me holding you back from doing what you love pains me the most, Yoongi,” I said nervously, melting into his embrace.

Suddenly Yoongi unraveled his arms, reaching around me to turn the faucet off. I turned around to face him, confusion flooding my features. He gently placed his hands on my face, searching my eyes for an unknown answer.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you Y/N?” He asked. I nodded slowly, bringing my hand up to touch his that rested on my cheek. He leaned down to place a kiss on my lips, hovering close after he pulled apart.

We walked hand in hand to the bedroom, closing the door behind us. Yoongi guided me over to our bed, helping me up onto the tall mattress. He climbed onto the bed, gently pushing me to lay down flat on my back.

“With every piece of clothing I remove from your body, I’ll leave a trace of me behind. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are Y/N, how utterly irresistible and perfect you are. Every piece of you that you view as an imperfection, I view as another reason to love you.” Yoongi said removing his black shirt from his toned figure.

He removed his shorts, carelessly tossing them to some shadow realm. He looped his fingers under my, formally his, oversized shirt, pulling it over my head in one swift motion.

He stared at my exposed chest for a second, eyes flickering back to mine every so often. He then leaned down, placing a trail of kisses down my neck, and stopping when he reached my collar bone.

He started leaving behind love bites, sucking and licking at the quick forming bruises. I hissed in pleasure as his tongue felt like pure ecstasy, sighing at the way he took my nipple into his mouth.

He looked up at me through hooded eyes, staring at me intensely as he massaged and sucked my breasts. I moaned his name quietly, wrapping my legs around his torso as he moved his attention to the other side.

He made his way down my exposed front, leaving no inch of skin without a trace of his love, or tongue. He moved further down the bed, hooking his fingers under the band of my flower covered panties.

His eyes never left my face, he smirked as I watch him in anticipation. Stomach quickly rising and falling with every nervous breath. He pulled them down my legs painfully slow, I shivered as the cold air hit my exposed clit. He’s barely touched me and I’m already a soaking mess.

He placed a kiss on my left hip bone, massaging the right one with a free hand. He kissed his way down until he hovered over my center, watching the way my eyes drank in his sinful appearance. I could feel the warmth of his breath hitting my core, causing an accidental whine to escape my pouty lips.

He let out a breathy chuckle before placing a kiss on my clit. That earned another moan from me as well as a tight grip on the rappers long hair. He sat up suddenly, receiving a look of disappointment from me. “I can’t wait any longer pumpkin, I need to fill you up like the good girl you are. Gonna make you cry for a much better reason than before.” Yoongi said tossing his boxers to the side and rubbing his length against my pussy, I squirmed in anticipation.

I felt his tip probe at my entrance, his length slowly being engulfed into the hot, soft cavern. I gasped at the intrusion, squeezing Yoongi’s arm as he began to move slowly. With every thrust I clenched harder, scratching down his back as he loving fucked me into oblivion.

“I can never get enough of you princess,” Yoongi grunted out as he sped up his rhythmic movements. “This is my pussy baby you’re mine, all mine, and no one else’s.” He growled eyes darkening with pleasure.

“hmfp I…I’m all yours Yoongi all yours please please fuck me just like that,” I stuttered out, crying as my body grew sore with the force of Yoongi’s hips slamming into mine. I enjoyed every second of this painful pleasure, yanking him by the neck down to my mouth. Lewd noises echoed through our apartment, a melody of wet sounds and heavy breathing reverberating off the walls of our bedroom.

I screamed in pleasure as Yoongi reached down and started furiously rubbing my swollen clit. “Fuck down on me Y/N, let the neighbors hear all those pretty noises you make. Tell me how much you love this dick baby it’s all yours,” he said hotly leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck.

“It’s mine oh f…fuck Yoongi I can’t take it, I want you to cum inside me please. N…need you to fill me up so I can fully be yours,” I choked out in between sobs. Before I could react the bed shook with extreme force, Yoongi unbelievably fucking me deeper, lifting my hips off the bed and squeezing my bruised hips.

I felt his dick pulsate inside me, indicating he was just as close as I was. “Fuck…cum with me baby,” he grunted out head rolling back in pleasure as his pace slowed. I felt his warm cum shoot inside me, I shook furiously hips spazzing as Yoongi gently set me down. He wiped my tears as I exhaustedly went limp, too tired to get another word out.

“I hope you know I’m going to think about this all the time while I’m gone,” Yoongi said grabbing some water from his bedside table to give to me. I mustered the courage to sit up and graciously take the water, passing him the rest after I finished. He leaned over and placed another kiss on my lips, holding me in his arms as he quietly talked me into a restful sleep.

Yoongi stood by the door, his bags packed and ready for the waiting vehicle outside. I watched him, my eyes brimming with emotions as he turned to face me.

“Y/N, I wish I didn’t have to leave without you, but I know how important your work is to you. I promise I’ll try to call you everyday, no matter the time difference,” he said softly.

“I know Yoongs, but I’m going to miss you so so much,” I said voice quivering as I struggled to keep my composure. My body shook with sadness, shoulders slouching in defeat. Yoongi cupped my face in his hands and gently wiped away my tears.

“Hey look at me, beautiful. I want you to know that no matter where I am, my heart is always with you. If you ever need anything, if you’re feeling down, just call me and I’ll answer in a heartbeat. I would fly across the country in seconds to get to you my love. I might not say it enough, but you mean everything to me Y/N there is no me without you. You’re my inspiration, my strength, and my love.” He confessed, his eyes holding a depth of emotion he often struggled to express.

“I love you too Yoongi, more than words can say,” I said while sniffling. Yoongi smiled at me through glossy eyes, clearly trying to hold it together for me. “Actions speak volumes, right? I’ll prove it to you everyday I’m away. This tour won’t change how I feel about you, and it damn sure won’t change us.” He said pulling me into another tight embrace. A car horn could be heard impatiently honking in the background.

“Goodbye my love,” I said smiling through my tears.

“It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again darling.”

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coffeeadict61 · 10 months

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Humans Are Weird: Female Rage

Report: #298

Topic: Female Rage

Rage: Violent or uncontrollable anger.

I have studied the human race for months now but today is the day I have learned to fear them. Forget their unpredictable bodies, or overly complex inventions, or the horrific moments that crowd their history. It was only today I feared for my life in the presence of a human being.

I often record anger in incident reports and the like, but women make up a very tiny proportion of that. They tend to "keep their cool" ( a human turn of phrase) better than men on average. This doesn't seem to be a natural attribute but more of a learned survival mechanism against violence and abuse. It only seems to break the surface in grief or after years of trauma. But the new astrophysics intern Colette [Last Name Redacted] showed me a new human emotion. Rage.

Our ships astrophysics department was partnering with our engineering department to design a small weapons craft to protect us from the "space pirates" or looters we keep encountering. I had created a bond of "friendship" with little Colette, I suppose little doesn't fit. She is above average height and slightly underweight, (she is having trouble adjusting to our menu due to "texture issues" which I need to educate myself on). Moving forward. She came to speak to me on a very serious matter a week ago exactly while I was on my daily rounds. This was the reason I was behind schedule, she has, and I quote, "little legs" in comparison to mine. Colette spoke of the weapons project she had been assigned too. She spoke at length about her supervisors who wouldn't listen to her. She had discovered a bug in the engine system. A four that looked like a nine or something of that nature, and believed it to put the test pilots in danger. She requested that I ask management to promote her so that her voice would be listened too. I tried to calm her worries but she was insistent so I told her I'd try to bring it up in the next meeting. That meeting was yesterday. In the six days between our conversation and my turn to give my reports for the management council, I had talked myself out of my promise. I figured that her superiors knew best and she was just ambitious and maybe she didn't see what she thought she saw. Regardless, it is the biggest regret I carry.

The test flight launched today. The entire crew was given an hour additional break to watch. Colette tried to prevent the launch, arguing with the head scientists, trying to show them test she ran digitally, but they had security pull her back. She came to find me, asking if I spoke to management. I didn't answer. The announcer counted down in human numerals.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 LAUNCH

I breathed a sigh of relief as the craft glided safely away, but Colette didn't, she didn't move an inch. The projects leader gave instructions through a radio. The experimental engines roared to life. Then, a moment of silence. Before the entire space craft was engulfed in a cloud of fire and gas. The silent explosion shook the floor beneath us as gasps and screams gave it a voice. The entire crew was killed. Many of them, friends or family of the onlookers. The onboard medic, the project leader's son and Colette's young husband. She collapsed to the ground sobbing, unable to stand on her shaking legs. I couldn't get her to move. I didn't try very hard.

Security swarmed the crowd, pushing them back from the windows and herding the grieving crowd to the different living areas. Many had to be carried. I carried Colette.

Hours later, after an emergency meeting and a meal, everyone was in bed. All but the council, security, the engineering department,and the astrophysics department. We sat in heavy silence as the project leader explained the error that lead to this tragedy. I studied him closely. No tears, just a stone cold face and a tremor in his hands. Suddenly the doors crashed open as Colette burst in. She wasn't grieving now. Colette grabbed the microphone from the leader's hand and threw it at the wall. It went straight through. Then she spoke. Shaking slightly, controlled rage gave the impression of bullets falling from her mouth with each syllable. "Murderers. You are all murderers." No one moved as we took on the weight of her statements. She spoke again but this time it was wasn't controlled. This time her rage wasn't an undertone but the message. This time she screamed it in a voice that echoed around the room and shook with each new sob.

"I TOLD YOU! I FING TOLD YOU THEY WOULD DIE! WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?! HOW COULD YOU KILL THEM LIKE THAT?! IT'S YOUR FING FAULT!"

She broke anything within reach. A mug, "THEY WERE YOUR TEAM!" a chair, "WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT THEM?" a table, "YOUR OWN SON AND YOU STAND HERE CALLING IT AN ACCIDENT!" her voice. "IF YOU HAD BELIEVED ME AND MY EVIDENCE INSTEAD OF PLAYING F***ING POLITICS…"

She stopped. She stopped screaming, stopped crying, stopped expressing her pain. She bottled it up and wiped her face with her sweaters sleeve. She just stared at him. Taking deep breaths as he shook under her gaze. "Why didn't you listen to him? To me?" He fought back his tears and straightened his jacket. "Abe knew the risks-" Colette stepped forward and punched him hard, his nose making an audible crunch. Blood stained her knuckles as she hit him again and again. Finally I got up and grabbed her around her middle, pulling her off before she went to far. The leader whimpered and leaned on a table as she fought to get to him. To tear him apart. Finally she just stood rigidity holding onto me. "Never say his name again. You aren't his father. You're a murderer and you never deserved Abraham." She spit at his feet.

"Coward."

I pulled her out of the meeting hall, locked her in her quarters, and stood guard. I relive her plea for me to approach the council on her behalf. I cannot deny my part in the crew's death and doubt I'll ever forgive myself. Colette will surely never forgive me either.

In conclusion, I advise the guilty professionals and researchers transferred and tried. Both for the safety of our crew and themselves. Their professional licenses should be revoked no matter the outcome of their individual trials. We also need to form a mental health department and start providing dietary options for all diets and sensitivities. I also advise (though I recognize my lack of authority on the matter) that crewmember Colette [Last Name Redacted] be released of all charges and assigned a personal therapist of her choosing. As for the other loved ones of our lost crew, they should also receive support options and memorials for their lost and any other requests we can fulfil. I pray we never have a similar story to tell the next generation.

Human Observer #5743

#Humans are weird #humans are space orcs #Its a sad one folks #Sorry its long #space #Aliens #space travel #human observer #5743 #new report #Colette #please read #I worked really hard on this #female rage #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #I had a lot of coffee today

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ash5monster01 · 8 months

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Truths of Our Past Part 4

Pairing: Older!Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of nudity, mentions of suicide, depression, depressing thoughts, past trauma, facing trauma, romance, understanding, fluff.

Summary: You had met Charlie in University, were married shortly after, and had become accustomed to a beautiful life together. When you receive a wedding invitation to one of Charlie’s previous classmates weddings you discover that Charlie had a dark past, one he had been trying to forget. In the midst of it all you try to help him through it while finding out that he’s not the guy you thought you married at all. Maybe he’s even better.

word count: 2.6k

Part 3 ←→ Part 5

Masterlist

10/6/69

Day 4/8

Wednesday was the first and only day of the trip that they didn’t have anything planned for the wedding. Charlie had decided after his conversation with Knox that he was going to use this free time to show you Vermont. Really show you and reminisce about his past here. He was eager and ready to share that with you. So when he woke before you he couldn’t help but smile, rolling over to press a soft kiss to your bare shoulder. Slowly he kissed his way up your neck, lips softly grazing your skin. You couldn’t help but smile as he woke you up, his warm breath tickling against your neck.

“Mhmm now that’s a way to wake up” you hummed in delight, slim fingers curling up into his hair as he probably worked on a spot for too long. You couldn’t risk any marks before the wedding but the delicious way his lips curled around your neck made you not really care.

“You’re so beautiful in the morning, I couldn’t help myself” he hummed and you just smiled, rolling onto your back to face him, his messy hair so handsome.

“So this isn’t you sucking up?” you asked, hands closing around his face and he sighed, turning to press a kiss to one of your hands.

“Only a little bit because, as always, my wife was right” he finally said and you smiled, leaning up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. Charlie being Charlie only deepened it, devouring you like you were the only meal on earth he wanted.

“We can’t do this here baby” you told him as he now began to explore your neck in a hungrier way. He already had to strap of your night gown slipped down your shoulder.

“Of course we can, Chris is pro us making a baby” Charlie teased and you could only chuckle, trying not to cave but the way his lips were moving against your neck was pulling sounds from you that you couldn’t entirely repress.

“Just to be clear, this is so not makeup sex” you told him and he chuckled against your neck, now removing the other strap and slipping the silk fabric down your body.

“No it’s just really good, morning, vacation, sex” he told you breathily, ready to get to work and show you how much he loves you.

“Whatever you say Char” you told him with a giggle before kissing him back as eagerly as he was kissing you.

After your quick bedroom rendezvous you both got ready to explore Vermont. You had been around obviously but not on a full blown tour where Charlie told you the history of places, if him and the poets ever went there, and you had never been to Welton. Charlie never dared to go so you vowed to stay back with him. Clearly that was unavoidable for the both of you now and you were way too excited to see it. Especially just the two of you so he could share moments, reminisce at his own pace, and you be included for it all.

The drive itself there was beautiful but you knew Charlie probably struggled with it, having spent this drive knowing his parents were dumping him at a place for majority of the year every time they came. So you kept it to yourself as you watched the leaves fall from the trees, birds fly through the air, and approached the beautifully crafted metal gates at the front. The building itself was gorgeous but you knew Charlie would always view it as some sort of prison. At least that was what you thought until you heard a low chuckle fall from his lips.

“What?” you pried, a playful smile on your face from wanting to know what he was thinking.

“Knox got his head stuck in the fence once” and then Charlie was full blown laughing and it brought a laugh to fall from your own lips as well.

“You’re kidding?” you asked as he parked by the front of the school, it silent from students being in classes.

“I wish I was” he said, still trying to fight the smile from his face. Yet he promised himself to reminisce about the good times here, not about the bad.

“Tell me how?” you asked giddily, sliding across the seat to sit beside him.

“Me, him, and Neil had all been paired up to read the Great Gatsby and do a presentation on it. We were probably thirteen and Knox would not let us take a break, he was enjoying the book too much and we had been reading for hours. So I told him I’d rather stick my head in the fence than do anymore homework, and he thought I was being serious” you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you thought of gullible Knox thinking Charlie was being serious.

“When Neil realized he thought I was serious he played it up hard, he was a good actor then too. He kept going on and on about how we had been looking forward to that fence all day and Knox was keeping us from it and Knox didn’t want to be left out. So we grabbed our coats and went to the fence. Neil told him to go first since he was our guest and I died when he actually shoved his head through” you covered your mouth with your hand as you belly laughed beside your husband who laughed at the pure memory of it.

“And he got stuck?” you questioned between giggles, tears almost falling from your eyes.

“Oh yeah, I was laughing to hard and Neil shot into serious mode in seconds. It was under ten minutes we had Dr Hager outside with a stick of butter trying to slide him free” Charlie concluded his story, a wide smile on his face as you continued to laugh at his story. That’s what it should always be like visiting this place, happy.

“Oh poor sweet Knox, and he’s still just a gullible” you told him once your laughs calmed down and Charlie grinned before popping open his door.

“Come on, let’s show you the rest of the place” he smirked and you put your hand in his own as you both slid out his side of the car.

The halls were silent when you got in but the architecture itself was breathtaking and you were shocked to think Charlie lived here for so many of his formative years. You both had avoided the lecture hall, not wanting to interrupt classes but it gave you the privacy for the rest of the tour. You had seen everything from the dining hall to communal rooms, to the hall where the wedding reception would take place. Charlie shared stories about them all, how they used to try and eat with their non dominant hand, when Knox had first told them about Chris, and how him and the boys had spent hours trying to move the heavy tables for the wedding. He didn’t act shy about sharing anything at all until you climbed the stairs to the boys dorms.

“So this is where the magic happens?” you joked in order to ease his nerves and he offered a small chuckle in return.

“No the magic happens at the old Indian Cave, here..” and then he paused, like he was waiting for the right words to somehow describe this place for him. “Here is where we just got be kids.

And then your heart clenched for him because being at Welton took a lot of way from just being a carefree and happy kid with dreams. Dreams and hope for the future. The fact that the dorms was the only place in the whole school Charlie could feel comfortable being his age was heartbreaking in a sense. So you knew not to say anything, to just lace your fingers through his own and let him guide you through the hall that he felt most comfortable in. He pointed out dorms of some boys you knew and some you didn’t. Then there was the infamous ones like Hopkins, Stick, and Spaz. Then there was the Dead Poets boys.

“This was my room” he pointed to the door, the door of the room that Cameron was lucky enough to have as a single for the second half of the year due to his expulsion.

“Wow, my husbands childhood room” you joked and he just grinned before his eyes glanced across the hall.

“And that was Todd and Neil’s” he spoke a bit more serious now, eyes glancing nervously at the room. Charlie used to pretend he was still in there, doing homework and rehearsing his lines. It was easy because he didn’t live across the hall anymore, he didn’t have to see how empty it was, so he could just pretend. Pretend that he was still in there, frozen in time, seventeen and full of big dreams.

“Right across the hall, kinda makes up for having to dorm with Cameron huh?” you told him, trying to get him out of his head and away from the trauma. It had been ten years since Neil had passed and by now he deserved to be associated with happiness instead of heart break.

“It did, a lot” he smiled back at you, happy you were able to get him away from the bad memories. The memory of waiting for that to be the last door he walked into that morning. Sitting in the cold and half empty room just to tell Todd he was gone. Sit by Neil’s bed and know he would never sleep in it again.

"To bad we can't go in" you pouted and Charlie chuckled before shaking his head, trying his best not to be sad about being here.

"I'd rather not, for me Neil is in there doing homework forever. Best not to disturb him" and you couldn't help the tears that welled in your eyes as you looked at your husband. Your husband who was hurting but was trying for you and that was all you ever wanted. You didn't need him to change or tell you everything, he just needed to be comfortable.

"True, we can visit him later" you went along with it and Charlie smiled at you, thankful you didn’t think he was weird or oddly sad still after ten years. Instead he just kissed you and then guided you down the hall, the exact route he would take in the dark, hushed voices and dog treats in hand. He was going to take you to the one place not tainted by the soul crushing ways of Welton. The one place he didn’t have any bad memories in.

"You didn't tell me we'd be hiking" you pouted as your heel got stuck in the ground for the tenth time, heading for the tree line, hand locked in Charlie's.

"Sorry Mrs. Dalton, this trek didn't often include girls" and then he was bending down, offering you his back to which you giddily jumped on, feeling like a little kid. Once his hands were wrapped under your knees you hugged him tight, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of his neck.

"So you never brought girls to a Dead Poets meeting?" and the skin where you had kissed him burned red in an instant which only made you chuckle.

"I uh, um well. There was this one time" and then you were bellowing with laughter, Charlie gripping you tighter to keep you from falling.

"I'm teasing Charlie, it would be a waste of my time to be jealous because I'm the one who got to marry you and that must mean I was better right?" you grinned, chin resting over his shoulder as he weaved his way through the woods. You would've gotten lost the minute you stepped in but Charlie knew the route like the back of his hand.

"You have absolutley no idea babe" Charlie told you, reminiscing about the two girls he had brought and how dumb they were. He was never all for going to school but meeting girls who seemed so dull was shocking. You weren't dull, in fact you were probably smarter than him. He loved that.

"I can't believe you'd do this walk in the dark, you are insane" you muttered into his ear and he just smiled, thinking about how easy it was to be carefree when you were seventeen.

"And here we are" he announced with a grin and carefully slid you off his back. You were met with a small cave, the opening a duck down, but definitely roomy inside. Charlie waved his arm, motioning you to go first so you obeyed. Once inside you found a small spot to sit on a rock as Charlie ducked in behind you, a soft smile splayed across his lips.

“It’s nice, spacious even” you grinned at him and he chuckled, stumbling beside you. The cave roof had done a good job of protecting the spot where they’d keep a fire, a small patch of soot and ash left behind from the last fire lit ten years ago. In the corner still sat the God of the Cave, the lamp almost crumpling considering it was probably thirty years old when Neil had first found it.

“Isn’t it, we could all cram in here easily. Use each others coats as picnic blankets” Charlie told you, gesturing to the ground and you tried to picture all the boys, seventeen, and rebelling against the world.

“I bet it was always Stevens” you smirked at him and he chuckled lowly.

“Yes, it usually was” he told you back, loving how you knew not only him but his friends so well. He wished you had that with Neil. His best friend. The one that could never be replaced.

“Tell me everything about it” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. He smiled, knowing you meant everything about the cave, so he just wrapped his arm around you and began to talk. Maybe not in particular to you but he just talked.

He talked about how it started with finding Keating’s senior annual, how when they confronted him he made the whole thing sound so alluring, saying women would swoon which instantly peaked Knox’s curiosity. How at lunch they made a plan to go, finding a map that would lead them to the old Indian cave, and as soon as midnight struck they snuck out their dorms, giving the dog some treats, and running into the dead of the night. Not of course without scaring each other on the way. How after a while those meetings were the only thing he lived for and you were happy.

Happy that Charlie got to experience that in a world conformed to keep him from it. Even if it was just a short few months it still gave him something to love, something to reminisce on for the rest of his life, and for the first time you realized why Charlie had still been so hurt after all these years.

Because when Neil died they all lost what they were living for. On top of that they lost Neil too. None of them accomplished those dreams that the society had given them. Neil didn’t go into acting, he died, and for the rest of them they all ended up becoming exactly what their fathers and that school wanted of them. They never got that excitement back. They just conformed like the rest of them, and how disappointing that must be when you already had a taste of what freedom was like.

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somereaderinblue · 13 days

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It's already Day 6 of Trigun Fanfiction Appreciation Week. I don't want any regrets so here goes: I give you a VW mpreg rec list. If this isn't your cup of tea, that's fine. If it is:

what I am trying to cultivate… by Altered-Havoc (Altered_Karma)

100/10, I've lost count on how many times I reread this. Both of them have suffered & after everything, they finally get a soft epilogue. Angst? Who dat? This is 80% comfort to me.

Surprise, Wolfwood! It's A Bouncing Baby Plant! by @attackofthezee, rated T

WW returns from the dead & there's a surprise waiting for him. 3 guesses as to what it is.

Until The End by squishycake, rated E

“Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” – Richard Siken A bittersweet fic wherein an aging WW makes peace with his mortality but not before Vash two new lives.

Innocent Souls by NaughtyJacks (JackalJamboree), rated T

In a quiet moment, Vash asks WW to bless the two blessings he carries. Vash knows WW is still keeping secrets from him, but he also knows that he's decided to choose Vash & his kids over them. And that only makes him love him more.

o' light, won't you shine (upon souls of youth) by seventhgiver (fifthgiver), rated T

Another bittersweet fic wherein WW still faces his canon death, but Meryl & Milly are there to support Vash through thick & thin. There's angst, but it really does have a happy ending.

dear star and spring bud, my preachers by elemmacil, rated T

Post-canon AU where VW have a child. Does a great job at depicting their awe over the fact that they were allowed to make this dream their reailty.

I've Taken to Calling Him Nico by mak000000, rated G

Short one-shot wherein Vash tells WW that the little boy he assumed to be Lina's baby brother is in fact someone's kid. 3 guesses as to who's the father.

i’d give you the sun (i’d give you the sun) by justotherdays, rated M

Set post-Trimax, full of nothing but tenderness & a much deserved happy ending.

This is not humanity's song, this is ours by O_ToJoy, rated M & T

An AU where Knives's victory is short-live & WW has to pick up the pieces, one of said pieces being Nikolai. He's 16 years too late, but that won't stop him from trying.

Talk About Timing by lucifergooseifer (Lucifergooseifer), rated M

A small detour causes everything to NOT go according to plan. BUT! Nothing (too) bad happens, I swear.

A Black Angel at Your Side by hazeltea (madlovescience), rated E

I would've listed this at the top but then I read it, cried, & slapped it here. I want to devour this but also throw up. On a side note, I like how this fic depicts Livio's still somewhat religious view on Plants & how said view is deeply embedded in NML's culture, which causes conflict with the Earth Federation. There's also a Meryl POV chapter where she justifiably remains wary of Livio/Razlo, which really individualizes her. Also has fanart.

Flower Dew, Deep Waters, Desert Thirst & Use My Heart by cloudbureiku, rated E & M

Aside from smut, there's also tender caring & non-sexual intimacy, all of which are three of many reasons why VW is our bread & butter.

Lavender by @vaporame

Gotta love it when Plant pregnancy involves markings & telepathic bonds. Totally makes breaking the news to your s/o less nerve-wracking. Their other VW works are also recommended.

Modern AUs

To Build a Home by hielhue, rated G

Everyone is alive & happy, and WW narrates how he met Vash, fell in love & started a family.

cause everything else is a substitute for your love by @sascake, rated M

VW have a bad history when it comes to using protection despite one of them ironically owning a sex shop. They're not perfect but they make it work.

little moment verse by justotherdays, rated G & M

VW's journey as parents. In the second fic in the series, the author isn't afraid to write how some parents, no matter how much they love their child, still inevitably struggle. Which is why it's important to have support.

devil on your shoulder (or the angel laying on your tummy) & paint the town red by cloudbureiku, not rated & G

The former guest stars the only & only Kuroneko while the latter shows us why it really isn't advisable for heavily pregnant parents to sit on the floor.

#trigun #vashwood #mpreg #trigunfanficappreciation #ao3 fic #fic rec #......i may have gotten carried away #but hey it's day 6 go big or go home

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narcissistcookbook · 1 year

Text

GENDERING TEDDY - a story about the evolution of mathematics, blood-stained chickens and a childhood toy that wasn't a girl or a boy

youtube

LYRICS:

The Babylonians developed the first written numerical system, in 3400BC Their system was base 60, which we still use today for telling time, but for everything else we ditched it in favour of The base 10 system, which the Egyptians came up with a few hundred years later And this was rounded out by a notation for zero courtesy of the Mayans a couple hundred years after that Giving us the numbers 0 through 9, upon which is built our entire modern mathematical architecture

Now Before this, It's not like humans didn't have a concept of numbers Any more than we didn't have a concept of time before clocks were invented We've understood natural numbers since before recorded history It's easy to understand that if you have 1 chicken and your neighbour has 2, they have more chickens than you It's just as easy to show someone that 1 plus 2 equals 3 Because we can see our chicken And we can see their two chickens And then, as if by magic, now we have three blood-stained chickens This is simple and observable mathematics And we didn't need language to make sense of this Beyond this, though, things get abstract and theoretical real fast I'm not even talking astrophysics here, Just getting into numbers larger than 60 or 100 poses serious problems in a world where you don't often have 60 or 100 of anything And inevitably somewhere adrift in the abyss of history is the first human who faced the challenge of trying to describe the concept of one million to a poor friend who was, understandably, less interested in a number with no practical application than they were in society's state of the art advances in avoiding being eaten by a fucking lion But in this one person's brain was an idea Of a number bigger than anyone had counted Something that they knew was real That they knew was out there But which they couldn't hold up and show anyone Which they couldn't even clearly explain Because the language hadn't been developed yet And if, as has been theorised, our species' intelligence is intimately tied to our capacity for language Then an abstract concept without a word attached to it Might as well not exist

When I was born, I was given a teddybear That I called Teddy, because some days you just phone it in And I took Teddy with me everywhere One day, when I was around four My mum and I were getting ready to go out And mum asked "Where's Teddy" And I said "Upstairs" And mum said "Go and get him then, we're leaving" And I remember being jarred by this It was an unfamiliar, visceral feeling Powerful enough for me to still be processing it, way, way in the background, thirty years later I said "Teddy's not a him" And mum said "Oh. Her then." Hmm No That's still not right, I though "Teddy's not a her either," I said, struggling to find a word for what I knew Teddy was A word that I felt must exist, because on a purely conceptual level I could imagine it And because my experience thus far had been to point at something and ask what it is And be told it was a table, or a chair, or a deactivated exploder for a mark ten torpedo I just assumed, naturally, that in my four long years on the planet I had yet to come across the word for when something doesn't quite fit Into the boy box Or the girl box Now, I know Teddy was (Is, actually, I still have them, they are sitting in the next room as I record this) Teddy is just clumps of fluff stuffed into a furry bag There isn't any objective truth to be found as to whether Teddy is a girl or a boy Or something else But that's not the point The point is This is one of my earliest memories This, not skinning my knee or losing my mum in the supermarket, is what has stuck with me When I was four years old, Before I had had any exposure to anyone beyond the gender binary In real life or in books or on the tv Before I even had a concept of what it might mean Socially and politically Gendering Teddy felt like it went against something tangible that apparently only I could see

And this is why I have so little patience for people who smirk and say we don't need new words to describe gender The reason That these people constantly belittle and undermine the words trans and non-binary people use to describe themselves and the world around them Is not because the words are meaningless It's because these people know fine well that words are powerful and dangerous And they know that their last hope of stalling progress is preventing people from having access to language that validates and vindicates their lived experience Not to mention that frankly fucking ludicrous idea that new words somehow erase their identity rather than give them a deeper understanding of it And the notion that it is somehow unnatural to invent new words for things, as if that hasn't been one of the leading preoccupations of humanity for the past 6000 years at least We are trying to do something that cannot be accomplished without a new language Without it, the concepts that make up vital parts of our identities are formless and amorphous Without it it becomes impossible to build support networks and communities Or to be taken seriously when your rights are being violated Or to tell the people you love who you actually are Or even to recognise yourself in the fucking mirror

That lonely, early human who struggled to explain the concept of a million If they could, maybe they would have said You're right, we don't need a formal numerical system to know that one plus two equals three But we will need one to build a worldwide communication network To point telescopes into the darkest parts of space And to plunge with no regard for our own safety into the deepest parts of the sea Maybe some of you think it is unnecessary even dangerous to be coming up with new words like this, and in the process validating things you don't believe in Things you can't see But for me, I can't see it as anything except progress New words are new tools Which can be used to build a marginally better world right now And maybe Many thousands of years in the future These new tools that we drop and break and wield clumsily will be used in ways we can't even conceive of today To build miraculous, unimaginable structures With our distant descendants Standing atop of them Being the people we always wanted to be

#the narcissist cookbook #gender #spoken word #Youtube

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slow-burn-sally · 5 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @totallysilvergirl for tagging me <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

171

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

2,559,305

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I live for the days when anyone asks me this question, because listing things I love is just so great. I don't actively write for all of these any longer, but I would go back to all of them if anyone threw me like, half a prompt.

BBC Sherlock

Good Omens

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

The Terror

Our Flag Means Death

What We Do In The Shadows

The Adventures of Tintin

The Hobbit

BBC and CBS Ghosts

Pacific Rim

Father Ted

Lord of The Rings

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Death In Paradise

Dalgliesh

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Crowley's Game - Good Omens (Ineffable Husbands)

2. Return To Sender - Good Omens (Ineffable Husbands)

3. Silk All Around You - Our Flag Means Death (Ed/Stede)

4. Oh Good Lord - Good Omens (Ineffable Husbands)

5. Out Of Suffering Into Love - Good Omens (ineffable Husbands)

hmm. Guess GO fandom is where I've cashed in the biggest, kudos-wise *Raises a glass to Good Omens Fandom*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to as many as I can, and I want to respond to all of them, but ADHD and work and life keep me from doing it right away, and then ADHD and being off work and life make me forget. I will sometimes loop back around to read a new comment, then see that I never replied to another, far older comment, then go about replying to several, two years after they were left. I hope people don't mind. I promise everyone who's ever left me a positive comment, that I eat them all up like chocolate bonbons and count myself blessed for each and every one.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably that Childercelles fic where Henry dies in the end. I think maybe 10 people read it. If you're in JSAMN fandom, and you ship Childercelles, and you want a link, PM me, but I can't remember the name of the fic for the life of me. It was pretty angsty. Outside of that, I hate angsty endings. Everyone eats ice cream and cuddles at the end of my fics.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Gonna echo the wonderful @totallysilvergirl and say that I don't do unhappy endings. That Childercelles fic was the only one I think I ever wrote with an unhappy ending, and even that was more of a melancholy ending. Everything else is Häagen-Dazs and rainbows.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a few harsh criticisms, and a few snarky comments, but never actual hate.

9. Do you write smut?

I sure do! I've written a whole lot of smut, and I really love it. Regardless, it can be challenging sometimes. I have to be in the right place, and have the right focus to write smut, and lately, it's been feeling more labor intensive. I've been taking a step back from the explicit stuff lately, and playing around in M rather than E, and less sexual waters for a change. Sometimes a gal needs a break. I'll always happily write it for others, but don't feel inspired to write it for myself right now.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I really see my Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell/BBC Sherlock crossover as my first and only crossover. It involves main characters from both fandoms meeting one another, and John and Sherlock live in a world where England's history is the same as the history in JS&MN. It's been a very fun experience, but I'm really writing it for @keirgreeneyes 's birthday, because we share a lot of stuff between those two fandoms, not because I love crossovers. I don't feel drawn to them at all usually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope. Someone came to me a couple of years ago, saying they were being bullied over accusations that they were plagiarizing my good omens fic. They even showed me the fic people talked about, and after scanning it for a bit, I didn't see anything that looked like plagiarism. I posted on tumblr saying I'd rather people plagiarize me than cause one moment of suffering due to bullying, and left it at that. I was really just jazzed to have people *want* to plagiarize me, honestly. It was flattering.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! In Korean I think.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I'm not sure I could. I also don't like cooking with other people or showering with other people. I just like having the reins on writing and cooking and showering fronts I guess.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh god please don't make me choose. My children, my precious children. After careful consideration though, I'm gonna have to go with Crozier/Jopson - Jopzier from The Terror. I mean. Come on. It's me.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I wrote many chapters of a really fun, but really complex and pain in the ass multi-chapter mystery fic for the rarest of rare pairs, Jack Mooney/Florence Cassell from Death In Paradise. So yeah, I would love to finish it, but I don't have the spoons, and it will have a readership of roughly four people.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I write good dialogue. I write good smut. I can make up stories at the drop of a hat, and then put them down very quickly, in large amounts of words. I'm a long distance runner when it comes to fic. I like my sense of humor in fics, and I'm always so happy when someone leaves me a comment telling me they laughed really hard at something I wrote. Ditto incoherent babbling about my fics making them horny. Those comments are so good.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Eh, my weakness is I'm just not an amazing writer? I do it because I love it, and it brings me so much joy, and people reading my fics brings me so much joy, and that's pretty much it. Also, I use a lot of run on sentences, and I have like six tropey things my characters always do, and I can't break out of it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I didn't understand this one. I would love to write dialogues in other languages if I spoke them fluently. Outside of speaking a bunch of Spanish, I'm not fluent in anything but English.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

eeeeeeeeee @keirgreeneyes @totallysilvergirl my first ever fanfiction was BBC Johnlock! I tried writing a fic, probably back in 2013 or something, and gave up after a handful of paragraphs. I just lacked the confidence. Then, it wasn't until 2019 when I went nuts for Good Omens and wrote a bunch of fic that I wanted to go back and write that one, first, Johnlock fic. And I did it! It's Homecoming. BBC Sherlock is my first fanfiction fandom, and my introduction to fanfiction.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh wow. That's a tough one. I really loved my one Father Ted fic, A Sweet, Hot, Sticky Romp, because I loved emulating the comedy style of the show and thought I did a good job.

I loved Out Of Time, my Jopzier time travel wackadoo fic for The Terror.

I guess I'll stop at two. I've written 171. I should get at least two favorites.

I tag @fol-de-lol @ilthit @yeswevegotavideo @keirgreeneyes @holycatsandrabbits

#the terror #good omens #jsamn #ofmd #fic writer asks #this was fun ya'll

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gildedlife · 2 months

Text

repost and rate your muse's traits out of 10 in each category !

★ ⸻ COMPASSION: steadily increases from a 6/10—he's never entirely without compassion, even if at his worst he seems able to "switch it off." he's not always in a position of total command, either, which makes him complicit in the lack of compassion of others, even if he visibly disapproves. he can fight dirty in a way that makes him seem prejudiced and unsympathetic, but this is only in moments of great fear or upset, and he isn't as convincing as he thinks he is (think: "i'm going to use the worst term i can conjure to describe you, and not only will my voice break when i say it, i'll reel back in self-disgust afterwards").

★ ⸻ BITTERNESS: 4/10, though he acts so melodramatically in the early days as to suggest something deeper. it's when that persona falls away and he seems more at ease with himself that the real issues come out, and then they're based in a history so far off from where he is that he's more resigned and shameful than he is bitter. post-canon is when it starts to sink in that career-wise, at least, there is something to be bitter about.

★ ⸻ HAPPINESS: 5/10. his scale is a little bit backwards for this. he's false-happy until there isn't room for it anymore, and then he's real-happy when things are miserable because he's no longer putting on a show. there's a storm-before-the-calm moment at the dead center of his narrative, where he's holding so tight to what he thinks is the truth (regarding who he is and how he has to conduct himself in order to be at peace) that he is, spoiler, punched for it. and, spoiler, he gets as close as a person can to asking outright to be punched for it. at his happiest-looking, he is generally at his most unhappy. at his unhappiest-looking, he is generally at his most happy.

★ ⸻ POLITENESS: 8/10, decreasing. among society he earns top marks. stranded on a ship in the arctic circle, certain things start to slip, though never in their entirety. he can be a little boyish with his language when he's trying to process something, but this is in comparison to a former captain who had to lock himself in his cabin and fume if anyone alluded to a woman having ever been nude. high bar.

★ ⸻ MORALITY: with regard to the lives for which he is directly responsible, a high 6/10, inching up toward 7. from our perspective, and from the perspective he doesn't gain within the story, it's more like a 3/10. the whole of what they're doing is wrong, which we are supposed to know but they aren't. his morals are decent as far as they extend, which is deliberately restricted by his plot. he only begins to reconcile himself to the cruelty and foolishness of the cause in post-canon (i.e., here, with me).

★ ⸻ CHIVALRY: 9/10. he's very courteous and fine at a party, but he's also chivalrous in the sense of a knight, in that he's brave and heroic and as just as he can be. he doesn't see himself this way, though.

★ ⸻ PRIDE: oh boy. what he projects is consistently high, sometimes even an insufferable 10/10. what he feels is infrequently higher than 4/10. he sees himself as a fraud. even the things he does that make him look good, he believes he is doing because they make him look good. "it's all vanity." actually—if you aren't bothered about being spoiled on some his character arc, more specifically in relation to francis—this clip sums it up very well.

★ ⸻ HONESTY: with the exception of his whole existence, which he thinks is a lie, yeah, a solid 7/10. when the captain says, "and remember! god lies in all realms," before sending you to almost-certain death, james is the one off to the side saying, more comfortingly, "[the surgeons] are just below." his lies haunt him so he tells them sparingly (he will also omit truths that primarily negatively affect him; they don’t count as much).

★ ⸻ BRAVERY: 9/10, by the end. not that it's low to start, he's just had time to practice recounting stories that make him sound exciting, whether embellished or not. he brutally challenges the legitimacy of his own valor as if he doesn't have the scars to show for it.

★ ⸻ RECKLESSNESS: 8/10. jumps unprotected into freezing water to save drowning men (pre-canon), hauls ludicrously heavy sledges without telling anyone he has open wounds, twice prepares and fires rockets with the use of only one arm and no men to help him, maybe goes a little overboard with a morale-boosting party, and fights captain crozier on his own ship about his hottest-button issues.

★ ⸻ AMBITION: 10/10. he was on the sea by 12 and hasn't stopped building his way up since.

★ ⸻ LOYALTY: 8/10? he pushes crozier hard and sometimes disrespectfully, but he never actually goes against him. he isn't even disloyal to sir john, who is. questionable.

★ ⸻ LOVE: 9/10. it’s implied through his dialogue that he doesn’t love his men more than god loves them—and presumably would be slower to forgive some—but no loveless man could give himself away as he would. for someone who criticizes themselves for their vanity, he’s very willing to be utilized and forgotten; disappeared in a pretty literal way.

★ ⸻ SENSE OF FAMILY: from a 3/10 (pre-canon and much of canon) to a 10/10 (by the end and following). he doesn’t have a firm definition of “family” until he’s said aloud what he thinks it is, or should have been, and then it’s quickly up from there. he starts to see it in the people around him as opposed to focusing on the absence of it in the people behind him.

★ ⸻ ATTRACTIVENESS: 7/10. he’s the “handsomest man in the navy,” both according to canon and real opinions in history. does this say much? not really. he does have a sort of gravitational pull, however, when he turns on the charm, to which only captain crozier seems truly impervious. he is good-looking, well-groomed, and well-spoken, but again benefits from existing where none of that matters. but yes, okay, he’s generally nice to look at. it annoys some people.

★ ⸻ AGILITY: 10/10 to a 2/10. he is the “best walker in the service” and lives up to it. he then pays the price by eight points off his agility score. his hips, spine, and feet are never quite up to snuff again, and his left side in particular—leg, lung, eye, arm—never heals beyond semi-functional.

★ ⸻ SEX DRIVE: 6/10 because he’s trained himself so. he’d like to be active, but he’s too in the spotlight as a captain and would be hanged if caught out.

tagged by: the loveliest @inrovina and @inflame, who messaged me privately to say i might like filling this out, which is equally touching. tagging: @midcenturies, @guttersniper, @soothfog (any character or blog you like!), @wantsusdead, and anyone else who hasn't been tagged. ♥️

#study.#thank you so much! this took a while but i think i’m satisfied with it. finally #long post

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