#And if tasteless pap was good enough for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gnawingteeth · 4 years

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@unblot asked: there's a voicemail left on jade's phone from rielle. when it plays the prince sounds strangely panicked. "jade. listen to me. whatever happens don't come looking for me. for your own good. i promise i'll be okay. just keep yourself safe. in case this is goodbye i want you to know that i-" there's the sound of yelp followed by a dull thud. the new voice that comes onto the phone is low & unfamiliar. "a message to your paps don leech. hand over the money & little princey won't be hurt. got it?"

jade’s expression is unflinching as he listens to the voicemail — the first seconds of rielle’s panicked tone are enough for him to understand that this isn’t one of rielle’s usual voicemails. this is serious, and jade’s unreadable expression only shifts when he hears what he knows to be rielle being struck and injured, and it hardens further when the strange voice comes onto the line with its terms.

so that’s how this is.

paps won’t be getting the message — if any lesson has been imparted to the leech brothers by their parents, it’s this: fight your own battles. and this is, very clearly, jade’s battle. for someone to have had eyes on him enough to know about rielle... that tastes bitter. of course, there’s also the chance that eyes had been on rielle and someone was feeling lucky and opportunistic, but —

no matter.

face still painted with the same darkly impassive expression, he lowers the phone. “ floyd, ” he calls, and his twin can pick up on what hidden meaning lurks behind narrowed mismatched eyes as they flick in his direction. floyd smiles darkly, and jade nods. concern gets buried behind familiarity, and his own lips pull into some sort of knowing smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.

- - -

magic wins some battles, but brute force wins others; the leech twins are known to be adept at using both to suit their needs, and for someone nameless like this to think crossing either of them would be successful?? it’s laughable, really. ( floyd does laugh, quite a bit. jade laughs less. laughing or not, the two are quick and deadly, acting without hesitation that any other teenager would likely possess in such a situation. )

and when a familiar voice pleads for his life as jade leans over him, he does laugh — it’s a dark sound, quiet and deliberate as he grabs the apparent mastermind of this entire ordeal by the collar with one hand, magic pen jabbing up into his chin with the other. “ now, where is he?? ” jade asks, and he knows the blood splattered across his face and clothes only enhances his terrifying countenance. his eyes glint oh, so dangerously, the light catching in his gold one — or perhaps it’s glowing from within. shock the heart. there will be no lie here, if the way this bastard is trembling is any indication.

“ th — the next room, ” comes the response, and jade smiles. it’s a sickeningly sweet thing as he tucks his magic pen into his disheveled jacket pocket then pats his cheek.

“ thank you, ” he says almost pleasantly as he stands up, letting him drop to the ground gracelessly. he straightens his jacket before reaching a hand out to take the stray plank floyd picked up from somewhere in this shitty building. humans can be so tasteless.

there’s more blood on his face and his clothes as he gets into the next room ( floyd stays outside to watch for any stragglers ), striding briskly from the door to where rielle is bound to a chair, looking mostly unharmed except for a bruise on the side of his face — likely from where he was struck when leaving the voicemail.

he feels relief flood through him, although it doesn’t show on his face. his expression is too serious, too somber; he’s still caught in the adrenaline and intensity of getting here. “ rielle. ” wordlessly, he kneels down and flicks open a switchblade brought from his pocket, cutting at his bindings. he can’t bring himself to look at rielle while he works. he thinks it might be guilt, but he isn’t sure. when he finally looks up at rielle and those bright blue eyes, his own are wide and bright when compared to the deep red of drying blood against his pale skin. “ i — ”

#ic. ◈#unblot #blood //#violence //#kidnapping //#ask to tag idk #ANYWAYS I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THE VERY END KSJHDFKJSHDF I LOVED EVERYTHING ELSE THO I'M AAAAAA #i think the twins are allowed to be violent is all #but also you can tell jade is NOT very introspective in narration lol #that's a common theme i've noticed when writing him #and even this confirmed that #anyway: Jade's Fuckin Pissed (the drabble)#jaderie / your love would be too much‚ and too much is never enough ( unblot ). ◈

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 4 years

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May I ask why you're so against rachel bilson? It's just that I know absolutely nothing about her and from and outsider persepctive she seems like a regularly nice person

Hi, yes! I apologize in advance, this is super long I’m afraid!

So first of all, I want to make it VERY clear that I don’t endorse sending hate to people, even if you despise them, and I am not intending to spam any social media she may have with hate because that’s simply inexcusable.

So here’s the thing: the whole thing just personally leaves a bad taste in my mouth because they had a sex scene years ago in a film that was directed by Bill’s ex-wife, Maggie Carey. It just really weirds me out because that was several years ago, and obviously I don’t know Maggie beyond the fact she’s a director and was married to Bill, but if I were her I’d be more than a little pissed off because I’d be wondering if my husband had been seeing this woman the entire time. I don’t think Bill is the type but I frankly don’t know him personally and who knows? It just seems a little tasteless in a way, but hey whatever.

Firstly, in literally every photo I’ve seen of them together - grocery shopping, golden globes etc, - they both look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Especially tonight, you can see in videos when they turn away from the cameras, their smiles vanish and they look (for lack of a better description) kind of constipated. I know Bill has bad anxiety so that could be part of the reason, I don’t know. But it looks like they’re not even trying - he smiled much more genuinely when with his ex. You can tell when someone is half assing their smile and when it’s genuine, especially in their eyes or the way they’re smiling.

I’ve been having a twitter conversation with someone, they messaged me wanting to talk about the whole thing, and I’ve been discussing it with them for a few days now. Disclaimer here that I already knew this person because I spoke to them about a month or so ago because their friend met PJ at a comic con and she (the twitter girl) was talking about it, so we already knew of each other before this whole ordeal. Recently, however, they’ve been telling me stuff and showing me tweets/photos/stuff about R*chel and, hey, maybe I’m only seeing what they want me to see? Who knows? I’m not saying my impression that I have of her is the correct one, just my own personal impression thus far.

The first thing we noticed was the sheer amount of paparazzi photos and news stories. I have never seen someone be photographed so damn often while out shopping - so far in the last week alone, RB has been papped near enough every day. No one gets papped that often by accident. The person I spoke with on twitter informed me that it’s always the same people (backgrid) and that she’s probably calling them herself. Not even the kids from Stranger Things/Harry Potter get photographed this much, and they are WAY more famous and in demand than her*. This week alone it’s been grocery shopping (w/ Bill), then going out to lunch with her friends, then shopping for furnishings, and THEN lunch with her mother. All in the same week. This isn’t just a her thing, it’s in general, but no one cares if actors are shopping for shit or going out to lunch with their mothers, it’s really not exciting or interesting. So yeah, there seems to be some question as to whether or not she’s phoning the paparazzi herself.

*I had literally never heard of her before being a fan of Bill so... 🤷🏼‍♀️ She’s definitely not as famous as the ST kids are right now

Also, it’s interesting that in the eleven years he was married to Maggie, and in even the last few years where he’s really started to pick up career wise, he has hardly been photographed by paparazzi in public. The only time I can think of is when he was filming IT Chapter 2 and that was because it’s a major film and they were shooting outside in costume. There could be more but I doubt there’s loads going around. So yeah, I find it kinda questionable that only now is he getting papped this regularly.

Not only do I think calling the paparazzi on yourself is vain and straight up thirsty for attention, but if that IS the case (and I’m not saying it is), it’s incredibly disgusting to do that whilst out with someone who has REALLY bad panic attacks and social anxiety. You can see it in his face that he’s pissed off and annoyed about it.

This person I spoke with also made some remarks regarding both of their kids with other people. Apparently the only time RB ever goes out with her kid is to get them photographed with her or something, and that she’s literally never with her daughter. This could be bullshit for all I know. I haven’t really researched her daughter because, frankly, that would be creepy and I also don’t really care about her enough to give a shit.

We know that Bill has 3 daughters, and it just strikes me as odd that he made a big fuss about how he only saw them 5 days in summer of 2018 (due to Barry and IT filming) and how he was crying over it, and “I’m going to spend more time with my kids 😭” but then...you get a girlfriend instead? And you spend time with them instead? And even when I first read the interview where he said about missing his kids, like...dude, come on. That’s your own fault, no one is making you stay away from the kids, you and your wife have joint custody. In comparison also to RB, who’s kid is seemingly papped quite a bit with her, I’ve literally seen maybe two or three occasions where one of Bill’s kids have been papped, like that’s it. And that’s how it should be frankly.

Back to the person I spoke with, they have a friend in Tulsa who was there around the time the two were spotted at Starbucks together, and here’s apparently the tea: Bill apparently got coffee alone quite a few times, she arrived in Tulsa, they got coffee, and then she left Tulsa after like a day. This person’s friend said that they weren’t holding hands, and they barely even looked at each other the whole time. This is a kind of “her friend’s brother’s wife’s cousin” thing and could be false, however. And I honestly think that if you’ve got 3 kids and you make a HUGE fuss over not getting to see them because of YOUR work schedule, then you should be spending Christmas with them and NOT with your new side chick. The same goes for RB - if she was in Tulsa over Christmas, why was she not with her own kid?

There’s a whole kettle of accusations that could or could not be true about both of them frankly; she’s using him to restart her career, he’s insecure and he’s being taken advantage of, she’ll probably get his kids papped, blah blah blah. This honestly could be total bullshit so who the fuck knows at this point. The whole getting together before awards season as well is so obvious, like so many couples do that for good publicity during this time of year and it’s frankly laughable. It’s the same kind of situation as the Alison Sudol/David Harbour situation two years ago - they stepped out together at the Golden Globes etc. And look how that turned out!

And, to be honest, I get feelings about people. You know how sometimes you just get a feeling about someone and you try to push it aside but it gnaws at you? Yeah. It’s not concrete evidence but I’ll be honest, 97% of the time I’ve found that if I have a feeling about a person, I’m at least somewhat right. I had a gut feeling when the whole nonsense about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard started, and even when I was abused and harassed over it, I knew my gut was telling me that it was BS because it just didn’t feel right. And it turns out I was right in that case because it’s now come out that Heard was abusing him and that she’s almost certainly been lying the entire time about being abused. But I digress, I’m not here to talk about that. I don’t know why but I get a bad feeling/vibe about RB and, hey, I could be totally wrong, nothing is ever 100%! But right now that’s the vibe I get and i tend to go with what that gut feeling is telling me.

And before the accusations of “you’re just a bitter jealous fan” come flooding in (as they inevitably will), I can promise you that is not the case. I make jokes about being thirsty and shit, but that’s all they are - jokes. Come on, I’m 22 next week, do you really think I want to hook up with a 41 year old with 3 kids?? 😂 And besides that, there have been MANY actors I either crush on or admire who are either in relationships or married, and because I’m an adult I can respect that. Hell, most of the time, I start stanning their partner too! There’s literally only ever been one occasion where I had a crush on an actor and didn’t like the person they’re (now) married to, and that’s because I didn’t like her as a person. I can respect that they’re married and I wish them all the luck, but given that it’s been nearly 9 years now and I still don’t particularly like her (and I don’t crush on said actor now), it’s definitely not a “fangirl crush” thing. It’s just that sometimes you don’t like certain people - maybe you disagree with their views, their behavior, or maybe you just don’t like the vibe they give off. You can’t like everyone, and you can’t be liked by everyone, that’s just how it is.

So, to conclude, I want to just make it clear that while I’m not a fan, honestly all the power to them, like Bill is a grown ass man, he can do whatever he wants with his life for all I care, he doesn’t need fangirls online rushing to defend him or baby him. As Mrs Brown from Mrs Brown’s Boys said... “it’s your life, love, you’re entitled to fuck it up however you please”. (I’m not saying he IS fucking up his life, on the contrary he’s doing very well for himself, it’s just a saying)

#its nearly 5am and i drank too much im going to bed #asks

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royalrastafariannaynays · 7 years

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“Hey.” “Hi.”

((thank you for the prompt @notedchampagne! for this davekat soulmate/wedding/enemies to friends to lovers/fake boyfriends au!!))

Your ass was unlucky enough to be saddled with the absolute worst EVER soulmate. Fucker just had to say a normal greeting when he met you. No inflection, no tone, no punctuation, nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Embellishment? Who’s heard of it.

Originality? Ha.

Hints as to which poor and sorry fucker it could be in your life? yeah right.

The only way you would ever know which soulmate was yours, would be if you kissed them right on the mouth. Or shared some other body fluid, but it’s not like you’re gonna be drinking tears or playing blood brothers - how unsanitary.

No. You have to just wait and see, for your entire goddamn life.

And the best part?

You have to show up to Rose’s wedding.

With a literal life partner.

That you told her you have.

And you absolutely, positively, don’t.

Now, of course, is when you’re sitting at the airport, and you’re waiting on your drink to get to your little space on the bar.

It’s almost too late to find a fake soulmate. It was a stupid idea to begin with, but at least you could fake it easily since your mark was so easy to match with… literally anyone. Jesus. Just a nice fake meetcute story and bam. There it is.

And then you could break it off! One of those ‘I thought I met my soulmate but it was actually not them because I’m a dunce’ stories.

No one is going to let it go if you don’t show up with someone, though.

Your soulmate tattoo is located just below your right nipple.

It says “Hi.”

Literally.

Fucking stupid, isn’t it?

The waitress is looking like a pretty good candidate for fake-soulmate. Just a few good lines, a promise of getting her some sweet fat stacks when you get home (not like you couldn’t afford it honestly), and she’d be an Oscar-winning actress.

Or maybe the bartender? He’s pretty fine. Big, burly, redhead. Probably more hair on his chest than you would know what to do with. Pretty much your type, but bears were always more of Dirk’s thing.

You sigh into your martini. Two hours until your flight takes off.

No one even bothered to hit you up on craigslist about your ad, and that almost always worked for like. Black tie events and parties and shit. Usually, then, you were glammed up. But you’d had to leave the ad cryptic so that your sister wouldn’t immediately find it upon trying to uncover your ruse.

Fuck.

And you’re carpooling with some friend of Rose and Kanaya’s that you’e never met, to get to their nice little rented vineyard once you’re there. His name started with a K, right? The only name that comes to mind right now is Karkat. Vantas, to be specific. Your biggest critic.

But no way he’d be Kanaya’s best man of honor or whatever. No way.

The world ain’t that small.

Rose is getting married to Kanaya, her soulmate. Your whole goddamn family will be there, as well as about a billion trolls. It’s gonna be a pretty big and fancy affair. Likely in tabloids.

And you’re already going to have to be putting on a good face for the paps and the fuckin’.....

Ugh.

You really screwed the pooch this time.

Someone sits next to you.

“Can I get something strong?” he asks, and.

Ooh.

Well if you’re gonna get truly and definitively fucked this weekend, you might as well get fucked by someone with that voice. Like ayyyyy, who are you fella.

There’s a short conversation, in which you turn to examine the dude out of the side of your eye. Okay, nice, dark skin, black hair, too much bangs, strong nose, tall, thick as fuck, okay. Damn.

The Jack and Coke is making you feel adventurous, and your normal grace is totally here, which means when your eyes reach his face, he’s glaring at you like you’ve sprung eight cysts and one of them is leaking on his cashmere sweater.

Fuck.

“Hey,” you stammer out at him, and.

For a second, you swear you see him freeze.

Maybe it’s the uh. Maybe it’s the alcohol?

“Hi,” he says.

And you don’t think anything of it.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” the guy growls at you, and ohhhhhh. Oh yeah. That’s a good one right there. His tone sends unruly shivers down your spine and you’re thoroughly embarrassed by how easy you are.

Like seriously, for a guy who spent his entire life like a mule in a horse courtship corral, you’re incredibly easy. Meaning that, no matter how awkward and uncomfortable you are, you will basically take anyone attractive.

Look, touching people is nice, okay?

And it’s usually only makeouts that you go for, maybe a handy or something.

Cuddling is the SHIT.

“I would, but I think a ghoul like you might break my camera,” you reply, instinctively, and. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god what did you just say???? What???????

Luckily, he laughs instead of getting angry and throwing his fruity nonsense drink in your face. And he gives you a look that’s halfway between begrudgingly tolerant and something like a half-assed smolder.

The lemon wedge wouldn’t have felt good on your eyes.

“Okay, what’s your name, pain in the ass?” he asks, and.

Huh.

Somehow that worked.

Weird.

“Dave Strider,” you say, and wink. “Care to get a bat up in my belfry?”

…. What. You were trying for funny again.

And apparently that was a mistake.

Okay, so it didn’t work.

His face is frozen in a mask of stone so solid you could break a diamond on it.

One of his hands is coming up to his mouth, and his eyes are widening in horror.

That’s when you look down and see his luggage tag.

[Karkat V. Vantas]

Shit.

This fuck.

Is your.

Oh my god.

“I thought she was joking,” he whispers, and you look back up at him. Your shades flip down from the top of your head and onto your nose and he.

He visibly recoils.

Ouch.

“I prayed that she was joking.”

Double ouch.

“Your movies…. They’re terrible.”

You wince, and remove your glasses.

Instant soberity.

“I know. I make them,” you say.

And he.

He gets up, chugs the rest of his drink, and.

He walks the fuck away.

You think you’ve seen the end of him.

That is, until you find your seat on the plane.

And despite it being first class, guess who’s sitting right next to you? Holding an identical invitation to yours in his left hand?

Karkat fucking Vantas.

It’s at this point that you realize that yes.

Rose’s critic friend, and Kanaya’s best man of honor, is indeed, Karkat Vantas.

The critic who hates you the most in the world is going to be a part of Rose’s wedding.

And if you didn’t know better, you would think that Rose married Kanaya just for this exact fucking moment. She orchestrated the entire soulmate thing with Kanaya.

Fuck.

He’s glaring up at you, and you’re trying not to scowl down at him, and the whole thing is so ridiculously inconvenient you could just cry.

“So you’re in this wedding, too?” you try, as you throw your carry-on up into the overhead storage.

The guy sighs so loud, you’re surprised heads don’t turn.

“Yes, idiot, I’m also in the wedding,” he says, and you try not to slump. Okay. Whole flight seated next to him. Maybe you could ignore him, and he could ignore you, and it’ll all be kosher?

“Right,” you mutter, and sink into your seat.

There’s a decent margin between the side of your chair, and his. It’s that kind of cheaper first class seating. The kind that doesn’t have like. Massive partitions, but instead has a little semi-clear divider between your chairs, and then some extra pillows and blankets, and better reclining.

It’s not your usual fare, but what can you say. You reserved the flight… a little late. Definitely not in fear of Rose’s judgey eyes.

Judgey at the fact that you’ll be arriving to her wedding, sans the soulmate you thought you had.

This is going to be a shitshow. You can imagine it now.

Rose, laughing at you per usual, saying that yes, she was correct in assuming you wouldn’t be bringing a plus one, yet again. Dirk, shaking his head very slowly at you. Jade, and Roxy all with identical blank faces destined to turn into glee the moment you turn around. And John. Who will be the only sad sap to actually feed you any sympathy.

;alsdkjf;lakjs.

There’s absolutely no chance at you finding anyone at this very short notice.

Someone knocks your face with their bag as they pass down the aisle of the plaine, and you just sit there and take it. Like a particularly smarmy penis, just slapping you continually, regardless of the fact that you don’t even want to suck his dick. Hhhhhhhg.

“Hey, watch it!” you hear from your left.

And you look over, to see Karkat V. Vantas, your biggest critic, glowering at the dude whose bag is entirely too phallic for its own good.

“Stop hitting random people in the face with your luggage, you careless piece of shit,” Karkat V. Vantas says to that man.

Huh. Defending you.

Maybe he doesn’t think you’re all that bad?

And you get the absolute worst idea.

The absolute best idea.

You wait until the flight has taken off, and they’re walking the little carts up and down the plane with snacks and shit.

“Wanna pretend to be my soulmate?” you blurt out.

And Karkat chokes on his complimentary soda.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

And yeah. This is gonna be a great idea.

From the angle you’re at, his coughing perfectly outlines his jaw, and you wanna get your mouth on it. Attraction from your side won’t be hard to fake, at all.

“I told Rose that I was coming to the wedding with a soulmate, and I don’t have one,” you say, waving one hand, once he’s done hacking his lungs out with enough force to make a flight attendant look pretty concerned.

You take a sip of your own beverage, and give him a look across the space between the two of you.

He looks more disgusted than he did back when he first found out who you are, and that he would have to be staying on the same floor of a hotel with you.

“How tasteless. How do you know I don’t already have one?!” he asks, patting his chest with his fist. He’s still working off the dregs of the coughing, and he waves away the flight attendant with his eyes still glued to you.

Ah yeah. You hadn’t considered that.

“Do you? Have one, that is?” you ask, and his face fills with red.

“No, I don’t, thank you very much,” he says, and you grin.

“Oh no! Don’t you dare give me that shit-eating smile, you nasty little sub-human,” he splutters, and you just grin a little wider. Your chances are increasing. And as he’s getting riled up, you’re getting a rush in your chest. The newfound coloring on his face is great to look at, and highlights his cheeks just so.

In that moment, you understand that you might be attracted to him more than sexually.

See, before, it was just physical.

But with every word, he’s etching out another little crease for himself in your mind.

Maybe after this, you could try to be friends.

He’s talking again. “...because of that, I hate your films anyway, so why would I waste my time on this farce for more than five seconds!”

You’re distracted, and you answer honestly and instinctively.

And for whatever reason, it’s something you’ve never told anyone before.

It sounds cheesy as fuck, and hokey and stupid. But it’s true, somehow.

“You only hate my films,” you tell him, simply, “Because you fail to realize that each and every one of them is an attempt at multi-faceted social and political commentary on the current state of events in Hollywood.”

Shit.

“Your very first review of my work was the most correct one yet,” you add.

And shit. More shit.

And, for the first time in maybe his entire goddamn life if you had to guess, Karkat Vicente Vantas is stunned into gape-mouthed silence.

“And now, you’re the only one who knows it,” you finish.

Something like long-coming realization is dawning on Karkat’s eyes.

His lips purse, and he looks like he’s going to throw up.

When you open your mouth again, he puts a finger to your face, and you close it promptly.

“You read all my reviews?” he asks, after a few minutes. “And you remember them?”

You just nod, not sure if you’re allowed to talk again yet.

“God, you’re full of shit,” he says.

And yeah.

You are.

That stunt with wearing a dress made of only recycled avocado skins to the People’s Choice Awards, and then telling a reporter that it was in defense of the avocado-consuming millennials everywhere? Classic Dave Strider.

Using your given name instead of a pseudonym, ridiculous as it sounds? Classic.

Skateboarding into celebration party of your tenth film, not wearing anything except one of those socks they use to strap penises to dudes’ thighs in filming sex scenes? Very you.

“No one is going to believe me,” Karkat V Vantas whispers, seemingly to himself.

“Nah,” you agree.

And he glares at you, then. The realization is still happening. Every little cog is flicking into place, every little moment that you orchestrated in your films, every little theme that you hid in the music scores and named as coincidence to the public.

“I did lie about you being the only one, though,” you say, sighing. “My siblings also know. John knows but doesn’t believe me. Jade doesn’t give a shit.”

“But I’m… holy shit.” he puts his hands on his head.

“You believe me now? Go ahead and ask Rose about it,” you offer, pulling up pesterchum on your phone.

Yeehaw for the in-flight wifi.

Karkat refuses.

“Oh no, I believe you,” he says.

“So will you pretend to be my soulmate?” you ask him, and he glares at you again.

Like, this, ‘how dare you suggest such a thing be done to my fragile countenance’ glare. Like you’ve asked him to shovel shit directly into his own mouth from the anus of a bull with really bad irritable bowel syndrome.

“Fine,” he says.

And you’re ready to beg again, but instead you’re the one leaning back now, surprised.

“What?”

“I’ll do it, but not for you,” Karkat tells you.

And uh.

Okay then.

“Alright, cool,” you say.

“But only to get back at that filthy wizard-fucker for making me wear a lime green suit to her wedding,” he says.

And oh. Okay.

“How would that get back at her exactly?” you ask, dumbly. “I mean I hate our lady-in-waiting attire as much as the next guy, but…”

“Fooling Lalonde is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Dave,” he says.

And. Oh.

Hearing your name come out of his mouth feels really good. For no particular reason.

Like every soulmate romcom ever. Like this is reality.

You ignore that bit with iron blinders on.

“And she did this awful wedding trope just to spite me,” Karkat continues, examining his fingernails. “Because I mentioned the movie ‘27 Dresses’ and she almost creamed herself with bliss at the idea of making a man wear a suit that he could only use for one occasion.”

It hits you, and you groan.

“Like a hideous bridesmaids’ dress,” you sigh, sinking into your seat.

“Exactly,” Karkat says, and you slide your eyes over to look at him.

“So if we do this, what’s our story?” you ask.

And Karkat already has one planned, damn him. He improvises with the skill and speed of a practiced veteran.

Over the process of the next four hours of plane trip, you work it out.

The two of you met at a press party, and ended up kissing over a glass of champagne, and from there it was magic.

No, you weren’t planning on getting married anytime soon.

Yes, you didn’t tell anyone because you’re keeping it under wraps for the press.

Et cetera Et cetera for hours of making details happen. Karkat also takes a bribe with stride, just some extra assurance from you.

He wanted your new car for the bribe.

You bitched and moaned about it, but eventually agreed to sign over the title for him. It was no skin off your bones right now, anyway. You make enough money.

It was going to be an interesting weekend.

So, you were off the plane.

Karkat took your hand as soon as you left the gate, bags over your respective shoulders, and led you down to the baggage claim.

It’s for the press, you have to remind yourself. It’s for the press, and then once you’re in private he won’t have to put on a show anymore.

But his hand feels… nice.

It’s hard not to focus on it as you’re brought down to the baggage carousel, and you stand there, waiting. Your hands are almost always cold, and just from this moment you can tell he runs hot. Something about thermodynamic equilibrium and memes runs across the forehead area of your thoughts, and you snort softly.

Karkat gives you a weird look, and squeezes your hand.

When he tells you to stop giggling like a newborn moron, he leans in close to do it, and you can feel the put-upon smile on his mouth.

You’re getting a few stares, and you can see some press out of the corner of your eye.

They’re waiting for you outside, just a few since you’re not really quite that famous. And you hid your destination pretty well, you think. After one of them got a restraining order, they stay at least thirty feet away from you.

Having Terezi as a friend is fantastic.

“David?” you hear, just barely within earshot.

You turn your head slightly and see Rose, just out of the truly visible range of your periphery.

There are people with her, maybe two or three. One of them would be Dirk, since he insisted on being there to see your ‘new soulmate’. The other either Kanaya, or maybe, Jade?

Who knows.

The point is, before you can fully turn your head to them, the carousel starts up behind you.

The metal creaks and whirs, and the little blaring bell rings, and you can’t even focus on it, or be scared, or remember your little acting role in all of this.

Because Karkat Vantas is kissing you.

His hand is warm on the back of your neck.

His lips are so soft, but not too soft. You feel them, strong and moving against yours.

And his breath is sweet.

And your own air is just taken away.

Because all of a sudden, you feel it.

Galaxies burst into being in your chest, in your soul.

The mark on your chest burns, for a split second. Like the worst itch imaginable. And then it’s gone, and Karkat is panting against your mouth. And you’re leaning down to him, hearing a wolf whistle in the background, and sarcastic clapping from Rose.

And you know.

Holy shit.

There’s so much intent, and there’s so much knowledge and incredible awe in Karkat’s eyes. And you feel like you’re going to throw up, it’s so much.

You know.

He’s yours.

Yours.

He’s your soulmate.

#soulmate au #davekat fanfiction #my short fics that I write #homestuck #dk #hs

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skeleplatypus · 7 years

Text

Happy Birthday! <3

Toriel and her child stood to leave from what had been a wonderful visit with the skeleton brothers. The food Papyrus had served, was very… flavorful, just as Sans had put it, before adding with a cheeky grin that you just couldn’t quite tell what the flavors were supposed to be.

She was not certain whether or not she’d been more surprised to hear him say such a thing about his brother, (especially when Papyrus was within hearing range) or that the hurtful, (but accurate) comment had her fighting back a laugh.

Papyrus had glared in that way only an offended sibling can, and loudly (as he did everything, Sans had quite accurately described him) declared that Sans simply did not know how to appreciate fine dining because of all that time he spent, nay waisted! at that Papyrus proclaimed “PIT OF GREASE WITH SURPRISINGLY GOOD MILKSHAKES”.

Laughing would have hurt Papyrus’s feelings… laughing would have encouraged Sans to continue poking fun at his boastful, insecure brother. She knew she could not look back at that happy grin… and yet she had allowed herself a small peek… just enough to see the older skeleton’s eyes betray the lack of sincerity in his apology.

*aw, don’t take it so hard, bro. you’re absolutely right, i don’t know much about this fancy mtt stuff.

She had grabbed her glass of water to hide her face, because she knew that tone of voice… it made her glance back at him in time to see his sockets crinkle as he glance to the side…

Her mouth was full of water… Oh merciful heavens, someone stop him before he…

*you could even say i’m “tasteless”.

Papyrus’s stomping foot had frozen mid-air as the, mannerly, widely respected, former queen of the underground lost her battle with laughter, unceremoniously spewing the water in her mouth all over the table, and what was left of their food.

Papyrus’s eye were round as he stared at her from his frozen position, further nullifying her ability to stop laughing, even through the embarrassed blush that was creeping up under her fur.

Her child was not safe to look at, either; Frisk’s bubbly laughter at her social blunder only made her laugh harder… but why was Sans not laughing? Surely he found this “humorous”? Did he not…

She had only intended to glance at him quickly to make sure he was just laughing silently, but he was not laughing at all.

Instead, he was leaning his right elbow on the table, cheekbone propped on his fist as he gazed at her, his eyelights the shape of little hearts.

She had thought she caught that look once before, but it had been withdrawn so quickly, covered with a joke, it was hard to say WHAT she had seen. Now… Sans seemed as powerless to fight it as she was to stop the laughing.

He’d winked at her in that casual, non-flirty way of his, possibly oblivious of the shape his pupils were in, and her laughter had increased until she had even Papyrus cackling.

Sans had finally broken his gaze, and fiddled with his fork with a quiet, *heh heh heh…

Yes… she had been less than certain before today, but the moment had confirmed her suspicions… her hopes.

She had not said anything before now because Sans did not strike her as the type to care that she had been the queen, once. And that life was firmly behind her. She vastly preferred teaching, to ruling, and while she was on speaking terms with Asgore once again, thanks in part to her child’s insistence that they spend time with the lonely king, well… forgiveness was not enough to mend the bond they’d once shared.

They had already said their goodbyes that Papyrus had warmly assured her were only see you laters, and her feet were taking her slowly towards the door. But, even with the sweet promise of a see you later… she was not ready for there to be a door in between them again… not just yet.

She turned. Sans had ignored several text alerts on his phone throughout the evening, and he was scrolling through his messages now, the warm glow from the screen illuminating his amused smile as he leaned against the wall. The hand that he still had stuffed in his pocket was drawn out so he could send a text back, thumbs flying expertly over the tiny little keys. But then… his hands were far smaller than her own.

She waited politely for him to stop texting. “Sans?”

He glanced up. There was a hint of surprise at being addressed again so soon after the “see you laters”. *yeah, tori?

The phone disappeared again, into his pockets with his hands. He straightened a little, but immediately slouched back against the wall, relaxing again.

Oh goodness, why was she so nervous all of a sudden? It was a simple question, and she was hardly a school girl anymore. Both of them were mature adults… or, they were adults, in any case, and there was no need for the way her heartbeat was accelerating. “I… dinner tonight was lovely.” She’d said that before the see you laters… Probably twice.

He didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his smile softened. *yeah. it was, heh… it was great havin’ you guys over.

Frisk grinned, skipping over to give him a hug. Sans returned it with one arm, using the other to ruffle the child’s hair, and her heartbeat sped up just a LITTLE faster. “Perhaps…” Frisk glanced back, eying Papyrus’s expression before racing back to give him another hug, too, as fair as ever… such a good child. She pulled her gaze back to Sans, found him watching the child and his brother with tender fondness. The words blurt out unceremoniously. “Perhaps we could do it again this Friday?”

Sans blinked once, giving her a startled glance. *um… sure! i mean, i don’t know what paps has planned, but i know he’d love ta have you over, and if he couldn’t cook or whatever, i could maybe do hotdogs or somethin’…

Oh dear… he thought she was demanding an invitation? How embarrassing! She might as well have spewed water all over the living room as well! “No, no… while that sounds lovely, I meant that perhaps we might go somewhere else… the surface MTT, or even Grillby’s, if you prefer.”

He relaxed again, like this wasn’t out of the ordinary at all. *oh! gotcha. heh, yeah, whatever’s fine with me. i guess you know what pap’s vote would be, though, we could still drag him there if you wanted to give it a try. after all, the more time he spends in the place, the more the chances of him seeing it’s charm might in”grease”.

He winked, and she giggled, despite her confusion. Why would Papyrus need to approve, or accompany… oh! Sans was always so clever… was he deliberately misunderstanding? Whatever the case, she’d come too far to back down without a little more effort. “I was thinking that perhaps he might be willing to stay with Frisk, instead.”

THERE was her careful diplomacy. She was inviting him out to eat, and only him. He couldn’t miss that, could he?

He couldn’t. Ever so subtly, he squirmed. She did not know if that was a good sign, or a bad sign, but at least it was any sign at all.

His chuckle sounded more nervous than anything else, but he was a very hard man to read. *heh heh… what’s the occasion? it someone’s birthday or something? (;D)

She giggled, despite the fact that he still was avoiding the issue, and that seemed to relax him a little again. “It has been a while since we spent time together, just the two of us. I am not certain we have done so since the door. Certainly not as much as I would like.”

Goodness… that was a rather bold proclamation… she was still getting accustomed to the dear younger brother… perhaps he was rubbing off on her? At the very least, it was a manner of speaking that she was certain Sans thoroughly understood… so why had he not answered?

________________________________________________________________

Words wouldn’t form, because he wasn’t sure where she was coming from. She SEEMED to be behaving straightforward enough. The hints were there, pure and simple, but… she COULDN’T mean what it sounded like. Not seriously… and that’s what was holding him back. Any second now, he was gonna get all flustered, and gush some mushy sentimental thing, and at the same moment she was gonna decide the joke had gone on long enough, and then she’d feel bad for poking fun at him, and she’d know a secret he was still trying to keep from himself, and worse…he wasn’t 100% sure their friendship was ready to survive that level of awkwardness.

c’mon, sans… say SOMETHING…

*heh… right. me, uh… me neither.

His soul constricted, but there it was, in all it’s awkward glory.

Her smile looked a little relieved, and that got him worrying again. *um, mtt’s sounds fine. i’ve got a tab running there. the comedy thing, ya know?

There. If she let him pay, it was a date. That’s how things worked with men and women, right? He wasn’t POSITIVE, not being an expert in the area of social cues, netiquette, or females, but…

“Oh no, do not worry about that! It will be my treat.”

Ah.

Heh.

Getting all worked up over nothin’. *oh, um… thanks. so uh… i’ll meetcha there?

She nodded happily, like she wasn’t dangling his soul on a string.

shake it off, sans. you’re a crazy ol’ pile a bones for ever thinking this was anything more. dinner, between two pals… catchin’ up. yeah, that sounds nice. be grateful for that, you idiot! stuff your dumb emotions back in check, and crack some stupid puns.

“Does six o clock sharp sound alright to you?”

*ooohhhhhh yes.

He started to wink, but she looked too startled. He could feel droplets of sweat forming instead. *heh heh… ya know… like mettaton says? cause it’s mtt?

Now she found it a little TOO funny, but that was great, because he could listen to her laugh, and he didn’t have to stand there under her third degree stare anymore, and he could listen to her laugh…

He needed help. but, stars… that laugh…

“Ah, yes. Now I see. Apologies. I have not seen his show very much. Between Frisk’s ambassadorial duties and my teaching…”

He relaxed enough to finish the joke. *naw, don’t worry about it. it’s not my best “meta”riel.

She laughed some more. “Well, since we are agreed, I will see you Friday at six.

She took the kid’s hand, and opened the door. He winked. *it’s a date!

She paused, sending his soul into a panic again.

i shoulda just kept my big mouth quiet, but i couldn’t help it…

And then she turned around and winked back, like it was some sort of conspiracy…

She shut the door, leaving him standing there, at a loss for words, and unable to dial back on the big, stupid grin that was on his face.

This couldn’t be just any ordinary day…

It had to be someone’s birthday, somewhere.

Thank you so much, @veryloyalfan!!!! I drew this thing to go with it!

That was very cute!!!! I love you, buddy!!!

#others' art #undertale fanfiction #Soriel #my art #it's my birthday #veryloyalfan #sans #undertale #undertale sans #undertale toriel #toriel #submission #gift

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illuminateshawnn · 7 years

Text

break up & make up

masterlist

word count: 1,872

**warning: SMUT**

“I’ve had it with you!” Shawn spat out at me. My face went hot, my blood boiling from anger. Shawn and I loved each other, we really did, but with us both having a slight temper and both being stubborn, fights were inevitable.

“You’ve had it with me? You have had it with me, Shawn? What the hell did I do? You’re the culprit here, not me!”

He stayed silent for a few moments that seemed like an eternity. His fists stayed clenched at his sides.

“You’re the one who had your arm around her, you had your arm around that, that slut.” I said, barely being able to yell at him anymore.

“That slut? You don’t even know her. You’re overreacting, you won’t let me explain myself.“

“Oh and you do Shawn? How long had you been in that club with her before the two of you were all cuddled up on that couch? How long did you know her before your arm was around someone other than me, huh? Tell me, Shawn. Did you even know her name?” Tears now streamed down my face and they fell even harder once I realized Shawn’s face was emotionless. He didn’t give a damn, he didn’t care that he had hurt me.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to get my stuff.” Shawn spoke, showing not one ounce of remorse for his actions. He grabbed his keys, phone, and jacket before storming out the door. My tears now streamed steadily down my cheeks, realizing this could really be the end of Shawn and I.

I stepped into the shower, the water scalding my skin but I was already in too much pain to care. I stood there until the water turned cold. I got out and for once, put on a shirt of my own instead of Shawn’s. I slept on the couch, not wanting to smell the sweet scent of him on the bed linen.

When I awoke the next morning, the light coming in the window burned my eyes. The skin around my eyes was puffy and swollen from crying most of the night. I made breakfast, but the food seemed tasteless. Any time now, Shawn would be here to collect his things and that would be the last I saw of him.

I laid on the couch all day under a blanket, dreading the awaited knock at the door. When it finally came, I dragged myself to the door of the apartment Shawn and I no longer shared. I opened the door and couldn’t force myself to look into his eyes. I was ashamed of him seeing me this way, such a mess over him.

“All your things are where you left them. You can go get them.” I said to him, still looking at the floor.

“I need to explain myself and I need you to listen, if you’re willing to.” Shawn said with a broken voice, showing some emotion for once. I glanced up at him to see he had been crying all night too. I moved out of his way and he walked to the couch. He sat down and I followed closely behind, sitting on the opposite end. I brought my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees.

“That picture is not what it looked like, I promise. I went out drinking with the guys and that girl came up to me asking for a picture. She asked me if I would put my arm around her so I did. After we made the picture, I couldn’t get her to leave and that’s when the paps made the picture you saw.” Shawn breathed heavily. “I love you and only you. I only want you. I don’t want anyone else. Baby, please forgive me. I can’t live without you.”

“I forgive you. I’m sorry for overreacting like-”

“Don’t apologize. Please don’t, you didn’t get the explanation you deserved. I was being stupid. I understand why you were pissed.” Shawn spoke, moving closer to me. We now sat side by side. Shawn’s fingers were playing with my hair while I rested my head on his shoulder, massaging my scalp delicately. After a little while, Shawn’s hand went to my chin, lifting my head up to face him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Shawn.” I said quietly, barely being able to get the words out before his lips were on mine. His soft, soft lips danced against mine. Tears still stuck to my face and Shawn kissed them away. He moved my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. Soon, lips were attached to my neck, kissing with desire and passion. Moans so quiet they were almost inaudible left my lips. Without any warning, Shawn picked me up and carried me to our bedroom.

He laid me down on the cold sheets, making my body shiver slightly. Our lips were soon pressed together again. Breathy moans and our teeth biting at each others’ lips interrupted our kisses. The kisses were so intense, so heated, soon kissing wasn’t enough. My shirt was thrown onto the floor with Shawn’s following closely after mine. Our skin pressed against one another. Shawn’s head rested in the crook of my neck while he peppered kisses just above my collarbone.

My shorts were sliding down my legs now, being tossed to the floor along with the other articles of clothing. Shawn’s lips moved down my body and made sure to pay attention to every weak spot. His mouth now moved against my core through the fabric of my underwear. Soft kisses against my clit caused whimpers to seep between my lips and out into the air around me. Shawn’s long fingers traced shapes on my thighs while he teased me.

His fingers hooked under the fabric and pulled them down my legs. He wasted no time returning to where he had been. His face was between my legs, holding my legs apart with his arms wrapped around my thighs and fingers digging into my skin. His warm tongue licked hungrily up and down my clit. His mouth closed around it, sucking on the small bundle of nerves lightly. Shawn said his apologies again, only this time with his tongue on my throbbing clit.

Shawn moved the tip of his tongue in circles on me. My back arched and I grabbed tufts of his brown hair. Moans of profanities and Shawn’s name left my lips. He hummed against me, the vibration coming off his lips nearly killing me. My legs shook and I was so, so close to my orgasm. Normally, Shawn would tease me and pull away as soon as I was about to come. This time, however, he kept working his tongue against me. His mouth moved all over my core while I came. He still maneuvered his tongue over my clit, making me extra sensitive.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for being so stupid.” Shawn whispered against my lips once his face was above mine again.

“I forgive you. It’s okay, you already know that.” I assured him. His lips grazed over mine while he fought to get his underwear down his legs. My fingers brushed down his biceps, feeling every ridge of his arms.

Now we were both completely bare, skin on skin and it felt so beautiful. To have Shawn’s burning skin against my own again was the best feeling in the world. His torso rested between my legs that were wrapped around his body. I kissed him over and over, throaty groans from Shawn and hard breaths from both of us just trying to catch some air came between each kiss. Every once in a while, I felt the head of Shawn’s cock bump against my core. He was overly eager and so was I.

“I need you.” I breathed out very softly. My lips moved against Shawn’s when I spoke the words. His soft, plump lips kissed my neck harshly. His hands rubbed my hips gently then moved down to spread my legs farther apart. He lined himself up at my entrance before quickly plunging in. I only felt him for a short moment then he left me feeling empty.

Seconds later and Shawn was filling me yet again. This time, Shawn stayed inside me and continued to thrust into my wetness. He finally, finally bottomed out causing me to moan the moment he did so. Shawn grunted once he felt me all around him. We stared into each other’s eyes, both darker than usual and clouded over with lust. Shawn’s now chocolate colored eyes bore a hole through my own and then through my chest. His eyes watched as my breasts bounced lightly from his fast and steady thrusts.

Shawn moved directly over me, no longer sitting upright between my legs. His mouth pressed kisses onto my chest, his tongue played with my nipples teasingly. I felt myself get wetter and wetter as he continued. Not only from the pleasure but also from seeing him do all these things to me. I watched Shawn’s every movement intently.

“Mine. All mine.” Shawn said deeply as he took his mouth away from my skin. My legs wrapped around his torso, making all his thrusts deep. The heel of my foot rested on his firm behind. Shawn’s hand caressed my face and I took the opportunity to suck his fingers. I took his thumb in my mouth and swirled my tongue around it, all while looking up at him through my batting eyelashes. He pulled out of me. My mouth flew open, about to protest when he flipped me over onto my stomach. I laid on it flat, waiting to see what Shawn would do next. He entered me yet again, quite slowly this time. “I couldn’t decide how I wanted to see you. You look so pretty from every angle.”

My face rested against the soft mattress. I moaned out Shawn’s name incoherently, a complete moaning mess under him. His hands gripped right above my ass, teasing me without even meaning to. My legs tried to close because of the pleasure, but Shawn kept them from closing. He hovered over me from behind, his low groans and his skin slapping against mine was all I could hear.

“Shawn, I’m gonna come. Oh fu-”

“Come for me.” I was cut off by Shawn’s words right in my ear. His lips pressed against the skin behind my ear. “I wanna hear you come undone.”

One last thrust from Shawn and I did just that. I clenched around him, the walls of my core fluttering wildly around him. My face rested against the white sheet of our bed and my hands gripped onto the sheet. Shawn entered me again and again, my moaning pushing him closer to orgasm. I felt him release inside me then left me empty. Immediately, I was pulled against his bare chest.

“I’m so sorry. I love you, beautiful. I love you so much.” Shawn mumbled against my forehead.

“I love you too, Shawn, and I promise it’s okay.” I reassured.

“Good because I would have missed the sex a lot. Especially when it’s that good.” He laughed. I playfully pushed him then ended up laughing along with him.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes dirty #shawn mendes dirty imagine #shawn mendes dirty au #shawn smut #shawn dirty imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #shawny smut #I'm sorry this kinda sucks

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grizzlygreybeard · 6 years

Text

8th June 2018

♥♥♥♥♥

Est, Est, Est! **

cof

rhdr

Tim’s perspective

Pushing the limits of our 30 minute drive range we managed to find a £1 per hour parking slot a short walk from the venue. Parking tax is always a bit of a drag. Rosemarino was simple and unpretentious with a menu on the pricier end of our experiences so far. But is was good, very good. The Legendary Tommy’s 1 Pan was a treat dispensing with ghastly baked beans while adding in chopped onions – which always boosts flavours – and using ham hock and cheese well. The focaccia toast was a nice change from white pap and was crispy. Strangely the tea was £3.50 when a latte was £2.70 which prompted me to have a coffee instead. Quite why this reversal from the commonplace was necessary eluded me. Nice ambience and helpful staff in a pleasant corner of Clifton, a short walk to bijou shops. Easily in our top five.

Graham’s perspective

Graham would write this on the wall outside the door of Rosemarino. Without doubt the best breakfast this Bagman has had so far.

In the middle of Clifton and straight outta Shoreditch. Cool, unfussy, bright – both the interior and the baristas. The service unhurried, informative, polite. The menu enticing. Prices in stylish but unnecessary form – 10.5. But enough niceties …. on to the breakfast

The flat white: just right – good strength, perfect temperature, proper cup, right amount of froth. Delightful and an acceptable early morning breakfast aperitivo, although Graham still doesn’t get drinking coffee before eating. American cultural imperialism?

The Rosemarino Veggie Breakfast – the menu stimulated the juices and the breakfast was indeed “a lovely plate of food” …. as Greg Wallace might say.

So often the Portobello mushroom is almost inedible – overcooked, tough and tasteless. This half mushroom was roasted, tender, and tasted as mushrooms should. The tomato halves were sprinkled with herbs, and also tasted as tomatoes should, whereas, so often, eateries serve inferior quality produce which means no taste at all. Deep fried cubetti of polenta and rosemary – crisp on the outside and softly delicious on the inside. The poached egg oozed down and infused the focaccia making it slightly easier to cut/pull apart. The scallop shell of filo pastry filled with ricotta and flecks of spinach, left till last, crunched pleasantly and made a satisfying coda. But the home made baked beans…….a triumph! A rich, properly flavoured tomato and herb sauce and top quality beans, baked rather than stewed? How on earth can Graham go back to the insipid, sugared, salted goo which suffocates timid, off white, unpleasant Navy beans on offer in the cans produced by a lot of household names? That is a rhetorical question.

But no sign of the ricotta soufflé promised on the menu.

So often when he gets home, Graham has to eat a slice of bread thickly spread with Marmite to take away the taste of the breakfast. Not this time. A truly magnificent, satisfying breakfast.

dav

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** The name of a white wine from the Montefiascone region of Italy. The story of its name dates back to the 12th-century. A German Bishop was on his way to the Vatican for a meeting with the Pope and sent a prelate ahead of him to scope out the best wines along the route. The prelate had instructions to write ‘Est’ (Latin for ‘Here it is!’) on the door or on the wall of the inns he visited when he was particularly impressed with the quality of the wine they served. In this way, the bibulous Bishop would know in advance where to make a stop. At a Montefiascone inn, the prelate was so impressed by the local wine that he wrote Est! Est!! Est!!! on the door. Allegedly.

Rosemarino, Clifton 8th June 2018 ♥♥♥♥♥ Est, Est, Est! ** Tim’s perspective Pushing the limits of our 30 minute drive range we managed to find a £1 per hour parking slot a short walk from the venue.

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