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ilikemesometaetaes · 4 years

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Little One (M)

Jung Hoseok Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: You find yourself in a position where you must choose between certainly addicting or below-average satisfaction for the rest of your life.

•••> Pairing(s): Hoseok/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Hey I was wondering if you could possibly do a Hoseok smut oneshot and like hes a super dom? Love you 💜”

•••> Word Count: 6.41k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: smut, slight impreg!kink, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, mention(s) of masturbation, slight choking/strangulation, spanking, dirty talk, slight mention(s) of BDSM, dom/little one relationship, hobi is filthy, but he’s also respectful, cursing, pining, mild stalking?, alcohol use

Thank you for the request, anon! Sorry, it took me like a week to get it done, but here it is! I hope you enjoy :) I didn’t go back and edit it so please excuse any mistakes.

~#~

The light from the chandeliers of the ballroom dimmed as the night came undeniably closer to its end.

The event was organized by your company- a Friday evening to relax and celebrate the closing of another fiscal year. The flurries of snow that dusted the sidewalks outside the venue served as a reminder that the year, in itself, was coming to an end too.

Smooth, Christmas-themed jazz music acted as a factor in your sleepy demeanor, relaxing you into a comfortable glow of warmth despite failing your mission.

You were here strictly on business; there was no time to mess around and slack off. A handful of flutes of champagne and a double pour of whiskey- which you hardly ever drank- were enough to relax you and make you confident in the success of your duty to find a proper suitor to make you cum tonight.

In the past, you had tried flings with acquaintances and a few friends, but they had turned out to be absolutely disdainful in the fact that, despite them, you had only cum twice at the hands of another in the last year and a half. Instead, you wanted to give a one night stand a try- purely for research purposes, of course. Who knew? Maybe you were into the riskiness and detachment of it all.

As the hours passed, however, you found yourself slowly resorting to the quiet and dark corners of the room, sipping on another flute of champagne in hopeless surrender with your warm buzz fading pathetically.

Unbeknownst to you, a set of dark eyes had been tracking you for a good portion of the evening. On the prowl for its prey, the owner of those eyes weighed the options sat before him, but he needed to make sure you were alone before he could risk indulging too far.

There was no ring on your finger; no one bringing you a drink; no one you interacted with longer than a short greeting and the occasional hug.

It didn’t take him very long to realize that you were incredibly and unbelievably by your lonesome.

He couldn’t help the smirk from pulling up the corner of his lips while his friends spoke loudly around him. From his seat at the table, he had a perfect view of where you stood in the shadows, however, staring too hard could prove to be the downfall of his plan as he did not want to get caught. Instead, the glass of scotch in his hand held his gaze while he rolled the sphere of ice around it in thought. He would have to be patient.

He recognized the look of defeat when he saw one. He read the way your flawless lips had slowly formed a permanent scowl of self-pity as the minutes turned into hours.

What a pitiful look on such a gorgeous little thing. He mused in thought.

By the time your phone read 12:45 am, you accepted defeat in its ugliest form. Shoulders no longer held back with your chest out and back no longer purposely arched to attract anyone, you allowed yourself to slouch.

Fuck it. You thought. Guess it’s just another date night with my magic wand.

Sourly, you left the large room to retrieve your dress coat from the coat check counter, pulling out your phone to order your Uber once you gave the desk man your ticket.

In your hunt for a ride and the slight tipsiness of alcohol still in your system, you failed to notice the presence of someone behind you.

“Excuse me, Miss.“ You jumped, knees slightly buckling in the process, and turned to find a slightly familiar man dressed in a finely-tailored Armani suit standing behind you.

“Jesus.” You mumbled before speaking up. “You scared me.”

“I apologize for the intrusion.” He laughed, sending an unexpected rush of flutters through your chest and straight to your lower belly. “I just couldn’t help myself in worrying if you were going to get home safe.”

You studied him for a moment, trying to remember who he was. His undercut, despite being a more unpopular haircut around the office, exhumed modern professionalism. A few of his black hairs that were gelled back had fallen over his forehead after several hours of holding its form throughout the night. Milky brown eyes and a narrow nose sat upon his lightly tanned but beautifully contoured face with a dark pink set of lips to grace his regal-like look.

You couldn’t help the sense of familiarity as you gazed at him. Instead of addressing his statement, you blurted out your thoughts, curiosity getting the best of you.

“I’m sorry, but… do I know you? You look so familiar to me.” He was about to respond when the desk man came back to the front with your coat in hand. Before you could reach out to grab it from him, your mystery man was taking it from his grasp.

“I’m Jung Hoseok.” He smiled, holding your coat out for you to place your arm in. So he’s a Jung, huh? Maybe he’s related to the chairman. Would be a nice snag for the night.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You held your hand out to shake his once you successfully slid both arms into the coat. With a smoothness uncanny to any man’s hands you’ve ever felt, he took your fingers in his grasp and leaned down to touch his lips to your knuckles.

“Believe me, Ms. Y/N.” His eyes lifted to meet yours as the warm surface of his lips met your skin followed by the warm teasing exhale of his breath. You suppressed a whimper from growing in your throat. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He stood straight abruptly, shocking you out of your stupor. “So is Uber your way of getting home tonight?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve had a few drinks and I was planning on it, so I didn’t drive here.” You replied to him, hoping he would fall for the action and jump in. He nodded his head in understanding whilst you falsely resumed the task of securing a ride from a few moments ago. Please ask to take me home. Please don’t be nonchalant.

“Are you returning home alone?” Hook, line and sinker.

“Yes, I am. I do have a cat to welcome me though, so no need to worry.” You joked, hoping to push him along and give him the hint that you were very single and very available at the moment.

Deciding that your conversation should be taken outside and away from the prying eyes of your associates, you made your way out the door and into the crisp night as you spoke. The small flurries of snow began lightly pelleting your face, catching on your eyelashes. Hoseok followed close behind you, intent on listening to what you had to say.

You came to a stop on the sidewalk and faced him, shivering slightly.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your homecoming with your cat. I’m sure he misses you dearly.” He smiled smugly, his breath forming visibly in front of him. Wow. So he’s an intellectual. He knows the game.

Fine. I’ll play.

“The homecoming won’t be too glorious. He doesn’t even greet me at the door.” You faked a pout.

Hoseok took a step closer, eliminating some of the distance between the two of you and effectively removing acquaintanceship from the air between you as he spoke. His previous polite behavior wavered slightly, transitioning your small talk “Oh? Is that so? Why?”

“I’m pretty sure he hates me even though I feed him and give him a roof over his head every day.” You chuckled with an air of breathlessness. “He’s a brat.”

“And are you?” He took another step and circled his arm around you to place his hand on your lower back, chest lightly brushing against yours. He was radiating an incredible amount of heat through the layers of his suit. You almost missed the random question with the way your vaginal floor tightened in anticipation.

“A-am I what?” You stuttered, looking up into his eyes and quickly crumbling. You hoped that he would catch you past the heady sensation of lust that crowded your veins.

“A brat.” He graveled, lifting his hand to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger. You gasped and couldn’t help bringing your lower lip between your teeth as you were rendered silent, biting down in an attempt to use the pain as a distraction from the pooling of desire in your belly and panties. Good god, he just went right in.

Hoseok’s thumb brushed over your trapped lip, dragging it out and pinning it below his nail before he leaned in. His lips, inches from yours, held your attention and his eyes, locked on your own lips, grew dark with arousal. You thought he was going to kiss you but, instead, he only tutted and answered his own question for you. “So you are.”

The taste of his breath on your tongue was sinful with the tangible scent of his scotch overpowering the aftertaste of your whiskey and champagne. His cologne surrounded you, turning your body into a live wire as your olfactory senses were ambushed with his masculine musk.

“I’m going to need an actual answer when I ask you this, little one.” He whispered, lips mere millimeters from brushing yours. All you could do was gulp and nod in suspense of his question- but he wasn’t having it. He squeezed your chin sternly. “Verbalize.”

“O-okay.” You croaked through the lump in your throat. Hoseok smiled and released your chin from his grip, sliding his hand to your cheek to caress it instead.

“Good enough… for now.” He drew his own lip between his teeth as he slightly pulled away to scan your body in his grasp. His eyes locked on yours again, the closeness of his face scrambling your thoughts completely.

“May I be the one to take you home tonight, Ms. Y/N?” He asked genuinely.

With almost no hesitation, your desperation rose to the surface once more. “Yes. Yes, you may.”

It took mere seconds for Hoseok to back away and wave his hand in the air before a black SUV pulled up in front of the two of you. Grabbing onto your hand, he tugged you towards the vehicle.

“Mine or yours?” You asked as he opened the door for you to slide yourself across the leather seats to settle towards the far window. Following suit and settling behind the passenger seat, he spoke.

“Hm… Are you alright with coming to mine?” He asked, crowding himself on you as he shut the door behind him. His closeness was suffocating- in a good way. The way you felt the heat from his face on yours reminded you of just how close the two of you were about to get.

“I’m alright with anything, Hoseok.” You breathed, eyelashes fluttering in pure bliss. Your panties were clinging to your heat uncomfortably, begging to be removed.

“Be careful of what you say, darling. I might get a little excited.” He laughed lowly. Turning to his driver, he quickly ordered him to take him home. For a brief moment, you wondered what his place looked like and where it was.

Hoseok’s beauty was uncanny; even in the dark, you marveled at his features as the shadows of the street lights passed over them. His hands were constantly attached to you yet no kiss had been shared, causing your nerves to run rampant with tension and excitement.

After a short fifteen-minute ride, the vehicle pulled up in front of large gates and you gazed in wonder at the house that stood behind them. Situated up a small hill past a large courtyard with a giant fountain in the middle was a mansion. The mansion, from what you could see in the night, was dark brown in color due to the bricks it was built by. The fountain lit the front of it in a soft multicolored glow as it transitioned between colors.

“Wow.” You breathed, eyes locked on it as the gate opened and you were dropped off at the front steps into the cold of the night.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” He asked from behind you, his body heat immediately returning to your cold form.

“Absolutely.” You turned to him as you whispered, noticing the snowflakes gathering in his hair. Even as your bones chattered from how little your dress and coat properly covered your body, you still felt the heat of want flooding your veins and warming your blood deliciously. Looking into his eyes felt like the call of the wild, the sun, and anything and everything that could cause the bout of excitement and pure joy in your heart.

You just hoped he was able to make you cum tonight. At this point, with his beauty and smooth game, getting you to cum was just a plus.

“Y/N.” He muttered, taking a step to you while pushing you against the large front door to his manor.

“Yes?” You answered nervously, heart racing in your chest. Could he hear it?

“May I open my door?” He chuckled. You quickly looked behind you and realized that you were blocking the slot for his key, quickly moving to the side and rushing an apology with a blush on your cheeks. Looking at the ground, you waited until he opened the door behind you to look back up.

He was pulling you by the waist into his foyer before you could fully look at him again. “C’mere.”

Shutting the door behind you, he pressed you against the wall and pressed a kiss to your lips unexpectedly. Finally. Oh, good god he tastes so good.

His lips moved tentatively at first, smoothly molding yours to his will and pressing against your body with his. Hoseok placed his hands on your hips, sliding them delicately up your sides to your shoulders and under your coat, sliding it off with ease. He was pulling away before you could fully kiss him back, your lips chasing after his in dislike of the loss of contact.

“I’m sorry,” He heaved. “I couldn’t control myself for a moment.”

“No, Hoseok,” You whispered, sliding your hand to the back of his neck and bringing his face back to yours. “It’s okay. I want you to.” He pulled you tightly to his body with a hissed breath between his teeth.

“What? What do you want me to do, Y/N?” He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you squealed in surprise. Automatically, you locked your ankles around him, cocktail dress making it easy to spread your legs. Hoseok continued to speak before you could reply, carrying you up the stairs as you stared intently at him. “Do you want me to nail your pussy into the bed? Do you want me to rail you until you lose your voice? Do you want me to spank you until you get welts? What? What do you want me to do?”

Wow.

Again, he made you speechless. The way his change of pace had victoriously shut you the fuck up for the second time was shocking.

Hoseok shoving you against the wall next to a door and grinding his hips into your own pulled you from the silence-rendering shock.

“Fucking speak, Y/N. What do you want?” He said sharply.

“I want it all- all of it. Please.” You were quick to reply as his domineering tone sunk into the pores of your skin whilst you whimpered from the friction. He only smiled and took one hand out from under your leg to open the door.

“As you wish, little one.” He smirked. Swiftly, he brought you into the dark room. How he found his way to the bed, you were unsure, for even a person living in a room for years has a difficult time finding their way under such circumstances- and he was carrying you. Regardless of your wonder, you still felt the cool sheets of his bed below you as he threw you onto it with a grunt.

You laid there in the dark, confusion following when he did not follow you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyes attempting to adjust themselves. Hoseok chuckled, the sound ensuring you that he did not move from his spot in front of you.

“I must undress first before I can fuck you.” He laughed lowly. You blushed again, realizing that the removal of clothes was definitely a necessity. You moved to strip off your dress when he abruptly stopped you. “No. Don’t. I will undress you.”

You laid back in wait, listening to the ruffling of his clothes as you heard the articles hit the ground one by one. The sound of his belt unbuckling reawakened the jitters in your limbs, excitement reappearing in the form of more of your juices in your panties.

A deep ache sat itself on your clit, pulsing away with your heartbeat in an almost painful sensation. Trembling, you reached a hand down to relieve some of the pressure that built up over the past hour, emitting a quiet sigh from your lips once you lightly cupped your heat.

Briefly, you felt the mattress dip in front of you before his body covered yours. Tearing your hand away from your pulsing heat quickly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to allow him to slot himself onto your body. The warm, smooth skin of his arms underneath yours felt heavenly yet extremely intimate.

“What do you think you’re doing, little one?” He muttered onto the exposed skin of your neck, grinding himself into you and eliciting a mewl from your throat. He cracked a hand down on the side of your thigh, the hot lick of pain doing wonders to your clenched core.

“I’m sorry,” You whined as he slowly rocked against you again. “It was just hurting so bad.”

“Don’t touch yourself.” He said, pulling away to glide his hands over your calves and thighs. “That’s my job.”

In the darkness, you were beginning to make out Hoseok’s figure; a dark and foreboding form that covered your own- and he was moving downward.

“I was watching you all night.” He pressed his nose to the skin of your inner thigh, inhaling deeply. “And I just can’t find it in myself to believe that someone let you go to that thing alone.”

It was hard to think with Hoseok so close to where you needed him, but it didn’t stop the words from slipping past your lips. “Well, you obviously came alone too. How did someone let you go alone?”

Hoseok chuckled in response, tracing his nose up to your hamstrings before moving further, passing your hip bone to trail over your underwear.

“I have a very particular taste in women and you happen to be the one I was looking for.” You froze for a moment as you felt his teeth on your skin, goosebumps littering your skin again. “You smell so damn good.”

He passed his nose and mouth over your abdomen before you felt his mouth latch onto your panties and bring them down. Your heart rate picked up once more.

“Hoseok.” You breathed, watching his figure as he pulled your underwear to your knees before grabbing them with his hands and sliding them the rest of the way off.

“Y/N.” He whispered in response. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Hoseok slid his hands back up your legs, sliding under your dress and grabbing it to pull it off you.

Once your dress hit the floor, you expected him to go for your heals, but all he did was sit back and stare.

“Y/N, before we start, I must insist that you choose your safeword.” His large hand made itself present on your naked waist, gripping it lightly.

Shock filled your veins and caused a mild sense of panic within you. “S-safeword?” You stuttered. He was one of those people? Fuck. I’ve never done anything like that before.

“I assure you that I will not bring you harm and that we won’t do anything like that… yet.” You quivered under the word. “Things like that require a contract so that I have your explicit consent. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

“That’s…” You trailed off. “Actually amazing.”

“What, that there’s a contract?” He asked, scooping his arms under you to pick up your body and move you to the headboard.

“No, that you’re actually asking.” You replied, staring at the contours of his body that was now punctuated by the small amount of moonlight streaming in through his window.

“I can promise you that I never do anything like that without asking.” His voice, volume a mere breath, feathered deliciously over the skin of your chest as he looked down at you. “It’s why I am asking you to tell me what you want me to do. I don’t want to become a danger to you.”

You raised your handle to cradle his cheek, wondering how in the world someone who looked like this could be a danger to you, however, you knew that there were much more dangerous games to play than the one you had played with him earlier.

Hoseok leaned into your touch as you spoke with a newfound sense of confidence in his words, an unfamiliar sense of reassurance filling you. “My safeword will be consent, then. And Hoseok? Ask me what I want and I will answer you.”

“Y/N.” He hovered over you to ghost his lips over yours. “What do you want me to do?”

You moved your hand from his cheek to tangle in his hair. “I want you to touch me.”

“Thank god.” Hoseok delivered a soft smack straight to your heat as he smothered you with his lips, the quick contact forcing a whimper to burst from you into his mouth. He was quick to smooth it with a caress of his fingers straight to your clit, shock subsiding into pleasure.

At this point, you’re drenched. Constantly flexing your walls around nothing had created an accumulation of your wetness between the lips of your pussy. Hoseok groaned when he began spreading it around your bundle of nerves.

“May I eat you out? Please?” He pulled his lips from yours and pressed his thumb to you, softly rubbing circles. Your thighs spasmed every so often.

“Yes, Hoseok, yes.” You wobbled. His lips and eyes, now visible, pulled into a grin as he lowered himself down your body.

Without warning, he pressed his face into you, tongue out and lips agape. Immediately, you brought your hands to his hair with a low, breathy groan building in your chest. He started with zero hesitation.

Hands holding you by your thighs, he licked once, then twice, and then shoved his tongue past your folds to slightly enter you. You couldn’t help the groan as it escaped you, tossing your head back and widening your legs for him. He removed one of his hands from your leg, realizing he didn’t need to do much to keep you pliant, and used it to spread your lips further apart.

Blissed out and not paying attention, you didn’t feel his eyes on you as he surveyed your body, growing dangerously hard as he watched you slowly rock yourself into him. Your breasts swayed just slightly with the movement and his hungry eyes struggled to capture your entire body all at once. Experimentally, he slid a finger into your heat, loving how one of your hands that was tangled in his hair yanked back to tangle into your own.

He dropped his tongue back to your clit as he watched your body, a beautiful instrument that he was playing to produce the most beautiful sounds he ever heard.

You were in complete bliss. Hoseok laved his tongue over you in rhythm with his finger as he began pumping you. You couldn’t think straight anymore. The texture of his tongue was slightly rougher than the fragile skin of your folds, sending you into a quivering mess as you felt it attack you with fervor.

It wasn’t long before you were approaching your first orgasm that Hoseok added a second finger, the feel of the stretch paired with his tongue truly exquisite. You were losing your mind if your wails of pleasure were any sign of that.

The knot that began forming in your lower belly had begun to pull your legs closed as it was pulled tighter with each stroke of Hoseok’s tongue and fingers.

“Hoseok-“ You moaned past your labored breaths, gasping aloud. “I think I’m-“

“Then cum on my face, little one. Give it to me.” He moaned with you, pumping his fingers into you with the pads dipping against that specific spongy spot within you.

To say your orgasm was glorious was a heavy understatement. Your legs clapped against the sides of his head, trapping his face against you as he pulled his fingers out, tongue pushing past your folds into your pussy to welcome the juices that rushed out of your tremoring walls. His lips sloppily locked with you as if in a heated french kiss, driving you to a babbling mess whilst you let your climax riddle your body into a trembling heap. Breathless and high with ecstasy, you felt the strokes of his tongue lick you up and assist your spasms of sensitivity.

“Fuck.” You croaked, staring up at the ceiling which you then noticed was graced with a large chandelier, the crystals twinkling in the moonlit room like stars. Hoseok moved over you again, obstructing your view with his face that glistened with your release.

“Y/N,” He whispered, voice almost straining. “What else do you want me to do?”

You took a moment to look down, noticing his considerable, weeping erection mere inches from touching your skin with a pearly bead of cum at the tip glinting at you teasingly. Your mouth watered despite your post-orgasm stupor. He’s fucking huge.

Your response was almost automatic and robotic as you lifted your eyes back to his.

“I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Hoseok was quick to kiss you again, groaning with relief while he lowered his body to yours. The sheen of sweat that covered your skin caused his to slightly stick to yours. The weight of his cock on your stomach and the taste of yourself on his lips only made you press your shaking body up to his in anticipation, locking your ankles around his back.

“Y/N,” He muttered in between his kisses. “You may call me Hobi if you’d like. My full name is a little difficult to scream coherently.”

“Hobi?” You tested the name on your tongue, distracted, before smiling at him. “I like it.”

“Very good. Use it as much as you’d like.” He smirked, reaching for his cock to rub it into your pussy lips, spreading them slightly so that it massaged your clit and folds. The halted groan that Hoseok choked down proved that the feel of you on his dick affected him just as much as the feel of his dick affected you. “You’re wet as fuck.”

“Only for you.” You moaned, widening your legs to allow him more room. You held your breath as he gripped himself and positioned.

Slowly, Hoseok entered you. You were wet and prepared enough that the stretch of his girth was only mildly uncomfortable- not painful. The hiss drawn in between his clenched and bared teeth made you bristle with pride as you were able to make him feel good.

You watched the way your bodies slid together, inch by magnificent inch. The sight overpowered any previous exhaustion you felt from the first orgasm. You became completely hyperaware from the way he had seemed to reach the end of you, stuffing you full, with a bit more of him still unsheathed. Dammit. You want to fit him all.

“Shit.” He spluttered and hiccuped, causing you to realize that he was holding his breath. “You’re tight.”

Gathering your legs up into his arms, he began fucking you just as you wished.

He began his pace brutally, hips snapping into yours with abandon and stunning precision. Despite wanting to watch him, your eyes couldn’t focus, constantly fighting the urge to roll to the back of your head. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he leaned over and spread you wide.

“H-Hobi.” You sobbed. The sounds of your pussy slurping on Hoseok’s dick was ungodly, yet you couldn’t help but love the sound of him invading your depths with your body greedily taking him in.

You felt his cock deep within you as if he was pushing into your lungs with each surge of his body into yours. Could you breathe? You quickly determined that yes, you could breathe, because of the loud sounds that you made that were a mix of gasps and screams.

Sweat began dribbling down Hoseok’s forehead, gelled hair now damp and falling over his face into his eyes with a look of determined ecstasy plastered across his features. His eyes, accompanied by his drawn up eyebrows, focused in concentration on where your bodies met before scaling up the expanse of your bodies, locking on your breasts bouncing with the hammering force. Hoseok brought his hand down to rub circles into your clit so that he could watch you squirm even more.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, the second came to you much quicker. With Hoseok grunting over you, his dick railing into your heat like a jackhammer, and the feel of just him, you were coming undone quickly. Grasping onto his neck with one hand and using the other to dig your nails into his back, you began caving in on yourself, unable to leave any muscle relaxed whilst your climax approached. Your legs tensed, heels digging into the globes of his ass to bring him on top of you.

“You really want my cum, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly, to which you only managed to nod and release a quick mhm. Hoseok’s growl in your ear only brought you closer. “I’m going to pump you full of my kids, little one. Just be patient.”

But being patient was impossible with the way he was in your guts and the fact that he had slowed his rhythm in exchange for more depth. Stroke after punishing stroke, you could feel his tip battering your cervix, the slight pain making for a dizzying sensation as it mixed with the onslaught of his thumb on your swollen nub. The concern that he could possibly get you pregnant was only an after thought as you were on the pill, but you had to admit that thinking about taking Hoseok’s seed straight into your womb was a sinfully pleasing idea.

He was much too deep; too far into the pits of your stomach for you to fathom how you had never been fucked this thoroughly before. You were going to fucking die. You were going to be killed if you didn’t stop it now. There was no way you wouldn’t come back begging for more if you didn’t stop now. He would own you because you would be obsessed- but he would want nothing to do with you come morning.

You desperately tried to escape him, legs digging into the mattress to push yourself away in order to gain some sense of mind, but you only crowded yourself further into the headboard with Hoseok following you, wrapped around you, on you, in you- everywhere. Hoseok delivered a solid smack straight to the underside of your ass, the ‘clap’ resonating through the room and mixing with the slurping sounds of your body eagerly pulling him in.

“Don’t you run from me, baby. Take it like a big girl.” He smiled devilishly whilst wrapping a hand around your neck, forcing your gaze to meet his. You sobbed loudly, clawing at his back in a fruitless attempt to detach him from your body. Hopelessly, you tried to press your hand to his stomach in an effort to push him away.

His grip tightened slightly on the sides of your neck, effectively leaving your airway unbothered yet the blood flow to your head stinted. “Move-” He thrust into you roughly, triggering a cry from your lips through the lightheaded feeling of being mildly strangled. “Your fucking hand.”

What was the damned safeword? Your thoughts were jumbled as you tried to remember it, yet you found yourself wondering why you were trying to remember when he wasn’t hurting you in the slightest. The ache in your cervix was an unholy and iniquitous sensation that you found yourself literally drooling out the side of your mouth for. You were fucking addicted to it.

“Hobi!” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes as you called for him. You couldn’t wait any longer. You were about to cum and nothing could stop it. “Hobi!”

“Cum on my dick, Y/N. That’s it. Swallow me up.” He muttered softly, aggression in his tone completely gone as he softened his hold on you in order to focus on ravishing your heat.

You brought him in one last time, body seizing and clawing for him as if you wanted to completely absorb him into yourself, before your orgasm exploded on you in the form of your juices rushing from your snatch around his girth. Mere moments after, before your orgasm was done climaxing, Hoseok came with a curse, pressing himself entirely inside you to spill his cum onto your abused cervix.

In the decrescendo of your orgasm, you found your mind and body unreservedly satisfied.

This man, Jung Hoseok, was a god- in the purest human form. Your entire world was shaken as he panted over you, sweat dripping down both of your bodies. It was no use trying to reason any other way that he had ruined you for any other man on the planet. You had gone through such a dry spell only to be welcomed back by him? You were going to be one spoiled brat if you ever hoped to bed another man again; you knew that, even as a one-night stand, there was no other like him.

With a sore, pulsing body and a slowly calming heart, you watched him as he removed himself from the bed. “Hold onto yourself for a second, will you?” He asked, bringing your hand down to stop his cum from leaking out of your depths. The touch of your fingers on your heat warranted a gasp of oversensitivity, causing him to smirk at you while he got up. He seemed to smile to himself as he mused, “Maybe next time.”

You watched him as he approached a set of doors in the dark, contemplating his words. Next time? My god, yes, please.

Reaching for a towel, you got a divine view of him from the back, perfectly muscular, and plump in the right areas. He looked as if he was sculpted by the Greeks themselves.

You tried to speak but your voice cracked into silence, making you clear your throat to try again. “There’s a next time?”

He turned around quickly with the dark towel in hand, stalking towards you. “If you desire one, that is.”

“Oh! I do very much…” You trailed off as you realized how fast you were to respond to his statement. You grew quiet in embarrassment. “… desire a… next time.” All Hoseok did was grin down at you, eyes flickering to your hold on your core. He was quick to help you clean his essence from your body while he chuckled.

“I guess I made a good impression on you?” He laughed lightly as you laid there, vulnerable and spread out before him in the glow of his aftercare.

“You could say that…” You blushed, turning to look out the window into the night, grateful that it was too dark for him to see the embarrassing flush.

“I hope I satisfied your needs, Y/N. Please tell me if I didn’t.” Hoseok turned serious, lightly placing his fingers on your arm in a feather-light caress so that you would look at him.

“No! No.” You were quick to jump in and assure him. “You were… amazing. The best I’ve ever had, in fact.”

“Really?” He asked whilst tossing the soiled towel to the floor. “And why do you say that?”

You shrunk under his gaze as he laid back in the bed with you, circling his arms around you to roll the two of you over to the side that wasn’t wet with your cum in the sheets. He wasn’t going to kick you out? No. Don’t jump to conclusions. He’s probably just trying to be nice. “Let’s just say that my past escapades were a little less than satisfactory.”

Hoseok sat with his elbow propping him up so that he could look down at you.

“Y/N,” His eyes turned concerned. “When was the last time you had a proper orgasm?”

Stupidly, you replied almost monotonously. “Uh… a few nights ago with my vibra-“

“No. No.” He chuckled, cutting you off. “I meant when was the last time someone else gave you a proper orgasm?”

“Oh, god.” You laughed. You raised your hands to cover your face. “Probably about… ten months ago? Give or take.”

“That explains the brattiness earlier.” He snickered. You only looked at him in confusion.

He looked back at you, waiting for you to understand, but you were only drawing a blank. Hoseok looked down and grimaced in disdain, shaking his head slightly. With his free hand, he placed it on the side of your neck, thumb brushing your cheek delicately. “You haven’t been taken care of, little one. Would you like me to properly take care of you?”

Hoseok began to lightly trace patterns with his thumb while his eyes searched yours for an answer. Gulping, you nodded and breathed the word ‘yes.’ Are we about to go again?

“Good.” He said lowly, ghosting his lips over yours. Oh fuck, we’re going again. Your heartbeat skipped back into the race, accelerating in speed.

As quickly as he leaned into you, he pulled away and stood up. “We’ll start by getting something to eat because I’m hungry as fuck and I didn’t see you eat anything at the ball. What’re we feeling, McDonald’s?”

And good lord. If you weren’t addicted and stupidly in love then, you were now.

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!

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sonderthroughthestreets · 3 years

Text

Hi! Idk what came over me but I thought an AU where Sander’s kid is anti-Bowie was the most hilarious thing thanks to @hidden-joy @kylesbishops and @sanderijzermans so I wrote it skdjdj

Disclaimer: it’s all fun and chaos and I don’t really know anything about how to write kids

x, x, x, x, credit to the chaos 🤪

The day Sander Driesen hears the words come out of his child’s mouth is the day he wonders if this is his child at all.

He’s standing there, leather jacket, white t-shirt and all, bleached hair icy even in the summer sun, and he looks down at the small stature in front of him. Grey-green eyes, dark locks and an air of confidence that could only be learned from a certain music-loving individual fill his sight. There’s so much innocence standing before him but a driven insistence breaks through the words spoken.

“Dad,” he hears. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but...I don’t really like David Bowie all that much.”

Sander thinks he’s lost his senses. He is definitely not hearing right. Hell, he’s only a man in his early thirties, he could not be this hard of hearing already. He tries to brace himself on the couch from falling over. Shit, he’s also too young to feel this frail.

“Wh-what do you mean you don’t like David Bowie all that much?”

The question comes out in gasps of air, ragged and winded, like he can’t believe what’s happening. He feels like his world’s spinning, like he’s entered another dimension, like there was no way, absolutely no way, his child doesn’t like David Bowie.

Denial is a pretty powerful thing, though...

See, when Alexandra Driesen was born, she brought light and life to Sander and Robbe’s eyes. She had a chubby face and squishy cheeks and eyes the colour of a summer storm. Her dark hair had been a blessing to match Robbe’s. Everything about her was as perfect as it could get. And then came the perpetual frustrations of parenthood with the screaming and the crying.

Sleep was something to be cherished at the Driesen-Ijzermans household. A few day-naps here and a doze-off there. But God, oh God, did Alexandra know how to cry in the middle of the night. Robbe and Sander spent hours upon hours holding her and swaying her and rocking her on a chair. Sander had read that sometimes music helps so he’d even done all that. Bowie usually floated in the shriek-filled room during these times and yet, Alexandra just wept.

“Come on, baby, just a little bit of sleep. Don’t you get tired of screaming all night?” Sander asked in that exhausted tone of parentese. He held her against the crook of his neck and walked around in sweats until he saw Robbe enter the room with blood-shot eyes and curls disarrayed.

“She’s still crying?” he asked with a rasp in his voice.

“She literally won’t stop and I don’t know what to do, I’ve tried everything. I’ve even got Bowie on for her,” he said.

Robbe took her from his arms and swayed her a little, cooing and kissing her tiny head.

“It’s kind of loud, though,” Robbe said to him as he then stepped over to turn off the music.

And in an instant miracle, the house was all quiet.

It seems that’s what’s always happened and Sander just hadn’t noticed it. Alexandra settled into Robbe’s chest and stretched her mouth in a heavy yawn. Her warmth radiated and glowed through Robbe, but Sander was stunned. He’s completely shocked.

“You-she-“ he stuttered clumsily for a bit. “But it was Bowie,” he said weakly.

How could his own daughter not feel at peace with Bowie? It was a connection he held with him, something connecting him and Robbe and what he hoped would connect their child to them in this little family.

“Hmmm,” Robbe hums pensively. “Maybe Bowie’s not her thing.”

“Not her thing?” Sander just about exploded. Then he suddenly remembered Alexandra’s finally gone to sleep and whispered, seething. “That is not our child!”

“Biologically, no. Legally and emotionally, yes,” smirked Robbe. “Calm down, babe, she’ll learn to like him soon enough. For now, how about we hold off on Bowie for a bit, yeah?”

He swayed her just a little more, just to really make sure she’s easing into sleep and then set her gently back down in her crib.

“How long?” Sander muttered and Robbe gave him a confused look. “How long without Bowie?”

Robbe contemplated.

“Maybe we give it six months or so,” he said.

And now it was Sander who wanted to weep. -

As the months and years went on, Alexandra had gone on without her Bowie-loving phase, only mildly being interested in the lightning bolt plushies and the songs blasting on road trips and the shirts Sander would get for her. Robbe says it just takes time for kids to get into stuff. That it’s better to leave it there in the open for them than to shove it down their throats.

“It’s barely any shoving,” Sander had grumbled.

“I know, babe. But I know how you can get sometimes,” Robbe had placed a soothing kiss upon his lips.

Still, Sander’s worries were increasingly growing.

Then a few years later, they’d adopted another beautiful girl. Mia was a radiant vision of blonde curls and brown eyes. They held a similar warmth that Robbe’s eyes held and Sander couldn’t be happier to lose himself in pools of coffee or dark, earthy soils or any other sort of metaphor for his favourite kind of brown.

To his relief, though, Mia loved listening to Bowie. She loved playing with the lightning bolt plushy and wearing all the shirts and as she grew, she and Sander had lots of music jam sessions blasting Bowie throughout the house. Alexandra was enticed into joining for a bit in the beginning but as time went on, Sander found it that she was making more and more excuses to not be in the same room when Bowie was mentioned.

“Uh, I got homework, Dad,” she’d nervously run her fingers through her hair.

“Uh, Papa needs help with dinner I think,” she’d run out with a tight smile.

“Group project due soon. Léon’s being a piece of shit and not pulling his weight at all.”

“Language,” Robbe would chastise coming around the corner.

“He’s being a dick?” she suggested.

“Fuck him.”

“Sander!”

“Sorry.”

Her interests lay instead in skateboarding with her friends, headphones in her ears listening to rap: BROCKHAMPTON and Stormzy with even a little Ed Sheeran in the mix, and keeping her hair as short as possible. She’d had a bit of a habit wearing overgrown shirts like Robbe did. But Sander found that endearing and he didn’t really think it was a case of ‘not-like-other-girls’ syndrome. He and Robbe just let her wear whatever she wanted.

And in fact, it was at thirteen years of age that Alexandra came out to the family as a boy. Sander remembers it clearly with them all huddled on the couch looking at the person in front of them with beady eyes, waiting.

“Dad, Papa, Mia. I think I’m a boy. I think I’m trans and I’d like to formally introduce myself to you all. I’m Alexander, or just Alex. And I use he/they pronouns.”

Sander had wanted to tear up, emotions flooding inside his rib cage. Happy tears, though, a joyous occasion where his son felt comfortable enough to tell them about this part of himself. That he and Robbe had created a space where he felt safe enough. Loved enough.

“I kept Alexander ‘cause, Sander,” he gestured to Sander. “But really, Alex is fine.”

And Sander wanted to cry all over again.

They’d all been encased in a huge family hug with Mia chirping that she’d ‘always wanted a big brother.’

Robbe and Sander had been quite supportive of it all, calling the school to change both the name and preferred name and asking if Alex was considering wearing a binder or getting a proper haircut. “Yes” to the haircut. “Hold off for a bit” on the binder. He’d whined a “Daaaaaad” when Sander ruffled the short brown locks. Most of Alex’s friends were cool with it, too and while it wasn’t all smooth sailing, he’d never run out of love from his family.

It was a big change and everything, but Sander thought, well...as long as he had his Bowie-loving children, it was all fine. -

It’s his worst nightmare. It’s the stuff that haunts you from the depths of the worst kind of hell, making your limbs feel like jelly. He’s cursing every name and divine entity and he’s really hoping Robbe’s right about those parallel universes because he’d love to hop over to the one where this wasn’t happening right now.

Sander’s having a hard time even looking at Alex in the eye.

“Dad?” he hears his concerned voice.

“I think I need to sit down,” says Sander, grabbing the armrest of the couch, lowering himself onto the cushion.

“It’s really not a big deal,” says Alex.

“Not a big deal?” Sander looks at him with wide eyes. “My own son hates David Bowie.”

“I never said I-“

“The man who infinitely changed my life. Space Oddity, Life on Mars, Ziggy Stardust, Ashes to Ashes. None of them?” Sander waves his arms. “You’re telling me you like none of them?”

“They’re...fine, I guess,” Alex shrugs innocently with a cringe to his face.

“Fine?” Sander squeaks.

“What’s fine?” Robbe trudges to them overhearing the conversation.

“Your son hates Bowie,” Sander squints his eyes at him.

“I do not,” says Alex. “I’m just pretty indifferent to him. He’s not exactly my style,” he shrugs, his hoodie moving with the movement.

“And what is your style?” Robbe laughs as he comes up behind him to rub his shoulders. He looks up at Sander with long lashes and a questioning smile stretching across his face. They share one of those ‘parenting looks.’ The ones where they know it’s not all that serious. But Sander thinks it is.

“A bit of rap, a bit of hip hop, some pop, some mainstream,” Alex lists off. “Not exactly the ‘80s vibes in me,” he laughs.

Robbe cheers as their tastes in music are quite similar and he proceeds to carry out their very own handshake they’d created when Alex was nine. There’s a different one with Sander. Sander, who’s getting more and more agitated by this revelation.

“Oh, okay,” he pats his knees and stands up. “Well, if you two are having such a grand time hating Bowie and bonding over your own music, I’ll just take myself and leave. No child of mine doesn’t like David Bowie,” he says dramatically.

“Sander…” Robbe looks at him.

“Dad…” says Alex.

“No, no. It’s fine. Really,” he begrudgingly walks out of the living room, almost knocking into Mia on the way.

“What’s with him?” she blinks twice and points a finger back.

Robbe sighs as he looks back at Alex.

“Your father, he…” Robbe puts a hand on his shoulder. “Bowie’s practically his life and so are the two of you, so I guess it’s really important to him that you like him, too. He’s just gonna need some time with all this.”

His eyes are apologetic and he gives him a half-smile, hand leaving his shoulder.

Alex takes in the words while Mia wiggles herself onto the couch and finds the tv remote beside her.

“You finally told him about Bowie, huh?” she gives him a gravely sad look. One that says he’s about to be doomed.

Alex just lets out a stressed breath as Robbe follows to go find Sander.

What’s so special about David Bowie anyway?

————————————————————————

Part 2 is coming! IM SO SORRY SKDJJF I just need sleep and rest

#wtfock #this sucks so much omg I’m so sorry #sobbe’s anti-bowie kid #<- liz I used the tag skdjdb #me writing a dad AU my god how did this happen #thanks Sarah for reading it over <3

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seaswalllow · 3 years

Text

okay so letters from l'manberg did Not get posted, but let's run west did so! i'm giving that to y'all instead. pounded out ~2.5k words and this is the result for a songfic competition :P

inspired by west by radical face

link to the ao3 fic in the notes

“You know,” Tommy grouses, “I can't see a thing with my hair all in my eyes.” Tubbo just laughs at him, while Niki hides a gentle smile behind her hands.

Jack rolls upright, and the crown of foxgloves tilts dangerously. There's a very dangerous way to how he’s puffing out a chest, a suggestion of I’m about to enter this argument and win and you’re not going to like it.

Eret has a sixth sense for when this trouble starts brewing, it seems. They scoot backwards, minding the cape slung haphazardly over their shoulder, and bump Niki to do the same, out of the line of fire.

“See, this is why short hair is superior. Your hair’s a sanitary hazard- actually, just a hazard all around.”

“You’re a hazard all around,” Tommy snaps back. He pushes the hair out of his eyes- and grumbles as it flops back in. This time, the titters around the group echo louder. Eret has the grace, at least, to hide their laugh behind their hand.

Tommy rounds on the nearest offender; Niki, as it happens, and backpedals as quickly as he starts when he sees the set to her hip. That’s a straight ticket to one of Niki’s I’m not mad, I’m disappointed, really, you can do better lectures and Tubbo still hasn’t let him live down nearly crying after that lecture. She's terrifying, okay? She’s terrifying, and he’s not ashamed to say that. (He’s told her that exactly once; she had laughed gently as she’d drawn a warm loaf of bread out of the furnace. She hadn’t contradicted him, though. So: no thank you.)

Jack is next in his line of fire.

“What’re you laughing at? ‘least I’ve got hair to impress the ladies with- oh, have you seen Tommy Innit’s hairs? luscious, luscious locks, look, healthier than me!”

“The ladies like my hair,” Jack protests. “Makes him right spiffy, they do say, right spiffy and proper; that Tommy Innit looks like a hooligan who’s just crawled out of the woods. Jack Manifold- now that’s a man of esteem and grace.

“Esteem, grace, oh what lovely qualities,” Tommy parrots back in a voice pitched four tones too high. “They look at you and say oh my, where has his honour gone? He’s got none, just a patchy head of fuzz and glasses that look like they’ve just been dug out of the bin-”

“You take that back- these glasses are top of the line-” Jack’s hauling himself up, and Tommy’s squaring his shoulders, and Tubbo’s laughing hard enough to be doubled over in the grass, despite the gentle shove from Niki and the cautious look from Eret. He’ll get to Tubbo next- it’s not like his hair is much better, kept out of his eyes only by sheer force of will.

They get to about three steps within each other when Wilbur's voice cuts through the argument.

“What's all this, then?” Tubbo's still choking down his laughter, and Jack's sputtering something about high tech, and they’re all really being incredibly useless, so Tommy asserts himself as the loudest. (And most correct. Obviously.)

“Jack Manifold is insulting the honour of my hair,” he proclaims, drawing himself up. Chest out, shoulders back, head high- just like they were taught.

Wilbur must notice this, because he musses Tommy’s hair gently, not a minute later. Or maybe it’s to prove a point, because it falls back over his eyes, to Wilbur's laugh. Traitor.

“There's enough here to make a shag carpet, Tommy. I don't know if he’s wrong.”

Tommy folds his arms, and- okay, he doesn’t pout. He just… lets his face settle into something more disgruntled.

“I've had bigger things on my mind. things like incredibly important-” incredibly important wars, he realizes he was going to say, moments before the words spill out of his mouth. There’s a line of tension in Eret’s shoulders where there wasn’t before.

He clamps his mouth shut.

“I’ve just been busy, and so have you, and you’re the only one who knows how to get our trim decently,” he finishes.

Around Wilbur's eyes, the exhaustion softens.

“C’mon, Tommy.” Wilbur gestures to a nearby chair, dragged out to the shade. “Sit down, we’ll trim it up to something more respectable.”

Tommy squints at him. He's not sure if the effect comes across the same way, obscured as it is. Which- may be proving Wilbur’s point. Damn it.

Begrudgingly, he slinks over to the chair of shame, letting his steps fall a bit heavier. Niki pats his knee gently, while Eret calls over to Wilbur. “You might need to do Tubbo’s next. goat boy’s going to start bumping into things.”

“I’ll just go around the circle,'' Wilbur laughs. “We all need a little trim and care.”

Reaching up to poke at the curls hanging around Wilbur's face, Tommy arches an eyebrow. “Are you planning to cut your own hair?”

Wilbur waves a hand, before he takes up his position behind Tommy. His fingers are gentle as he sorts through the long mess, a soft snick echoing as he starts cutting away at it.

It's a familiar sound, and Tommy lets himself relax as Wilbur continues combing through the tangles.

“It’s not the first time I would've done that. I can take care of myself too.”

“Doubtful,” Tommy huffs at the same time as Eret murmurs. “That's what they all say, don’t they?”

Wilbur pauses in his actions. Tommy darts a peek at Eret underneath his hair. Niki and Tubbo, engrossed in their debate with Jack, aren’t paying too much attention, but niki sends a fleeting, if concerned look, their way.

They’re technically not wrong. Wilbur can roll his shoulders back and step with military, practiced precision, and it won’t hide the bruises under his eyes that grow by day.

It won’t hide the ever-lengthening shadows on his face, the ink-stains on his fingers that never seem to wash out.

But if Wilbur says not to worry about it- well. There's already a lot on their plate. He knows what he’s doing.

(Right?)

(Right.)

So Tommy squares his shoulders and grins at Eret. “He's a disaster, isn’t he?”

Eret hardly smiles at that. Niki, Jack, Tubbo- they’re all listening now. Tubbo meets his eyes, and sits up fully, rolling his eyes. Silently, Tommy thanks prime.

“There’s a saying about glass houses,” he begins, and Tommy splutters, retracting any and all thanks.

“Oh, don’t you go pulling out the wise shit on me now- I’ll have you know I’m the best around here at-”

“At raising the disaster rates? Yes, yes you are.”

“You’re lucky I'm stuck on this chair,” Tommy points threateningly at Tubbo. “when I’m off of it-”

Tubbo simply pulls out a sword with the same shit-eating grin. “You’ll give me the beating stick?”

“You’ll wish you had the beating stick.” With that lovely parting line, he sticks out his tongue, only to immediately hiss and spit into the grass to the side. Jack cackles.

“Shouldn’t have opened your mouth while your bird’s nest was getting cut!”

“Oh, you-” Wilbur clamps a hand on Tommy's shoulder. He stills immediately.

“Stop wriggling. Your hair doesn’t need to get any worse.”

Tommy narrows his eyes in Wilbur's general direction, but he does settle down. The tension’s dissipated- somewhat, at least. They should be okay.

(Later, he’ll look back. He’ll wonder what Eret saw before them; he’ll wonder if it was the sleepless nights, or the way that Wilbur shies away from a blade outside of dinners and nights reserved for haircuts. He'll wonder if it’s the ashes of letters that pile, and pile.

He’ll wonder if that’s what scared Eret away, and goaded him into lacing the very ground that they had rolled in a play fight on just days earlier.

When he hears it was never meant to be, he’ll wonder if it was a threat. Later, he’ll understand it was the writing littered on crumbling walls. But for now, they sit, and they laugh, on the home that they built.)

ii.

There is, quite simply put, too much happening.

Tubbo sits to his side, kicking his feet over the ledge; Tommy’s insisted they both sit by a railing to hold onto, one of the few that they’ve diverted Wilbur's attention from.

Below them, the ravine buzzes.

Techno is not in the farm- hasn’t been for a bit, in fact. This is the first they’ve seen him around Pogtopia in days.

He's facing Wilbur, in the far corner. Tommy doesn’t take his eyes off of him, while Tubbo nudges him, attention elsewhere.

“Fundy’s arguing with Quackity in the corner,” he mutters. “Think they know something about the Schlatt situation?”

Tommy spares the two a quick look. Fundy's ears are pinned flat against his head; quackity’s eyes are obscured by his sunglasses, but even his printed smile seems strained.

“Could be worth checking out,” Tubbo presses.

“I’m more worried about whatever those two have going on in the corner,” Tommy says tersely. “Wilbur’s not in his right fucking mind as is- and Techno’s not good fucking company.”

“nobody here is,” Tubbo replies, and doesn’t elaborate.

Which is. just fucking great, honestly. Everybody here is either stressed out of their mind, scared out of their mind, or both. This is fine. This is fine.

He forces out a noisy breath that does nothing to calm his racing heart.

“It won’t matter in a few hours,” Tubbo finally adds. “The waiting’s the worst part.”

Tommy forces the image of Tubbo staring down the crossbow, waiting, out of his head, and folds his arms.

“It’s the aftermath that sucks the most, innit?”

“Not really. By then, it’s happened. You can’t change it. There’s no what-ifs. You just move forward. You can’t move while you’re waiting.”

Can they stop with the fucking metaphors?

He works his jaw free from where he’s clenched it tight enough to crack a tooth.

“Think Schlatt’s going to pussy out of it?”

“No.”

Of course it can’t be that easy.

Tubbo leans back, mindful of the bandages winding up his arms. He keeps an ear tilted towards Tommy.

“It depends on how much we corner him,” he amends.

“If he can run to preserve himself? He will. If it’s a last stand? He’ll take us down with him.”

Plant his feet and lower his head for the charge. Great. Just what they fucking need, with Wilbur ready to plant the button, and a trigger-happy anarchist.

Is this how Wilbur felt? ready to scream ‘til his voice cracked, as it kept piling? Tubbo, as schlatt got louder and angrier?

He hates it, honestly.

“Great. So we don’t give him a chance to do either.”

“Easier said than done.” There’s a thoughtfulness to Tubbo’s voice. “Doable, though. The night of- you didn’t see him. If Wilbur’s a mess… Schlatt’s not better.”

Tommy cuts a sideways look. Tubbo's still staring down, not a single emotion escaping the neutrality he’s plastered across his expression.

They’ve all gotten rather good at their masks. Some more than others.

“Hardly coherent. Passed out on the speech he was writing.”

Making a face, Tommy scoots back to fold his legs upon the ledge as well.

“That place sounded like it reeked. It lingered on you for ages.”

“You get used to it,” Tubbo replies. “You get used to a lot of things.”

Down below, someone’s raised their voice. Judging by the stuttering speech- they both swing to look as Wilbur’s voice bounces off of the walls.

A summons, then.

“Time already?”

“Techno said he had something to show us, before… before.”

Tubbo’s expression doesn’t change. Tommy doesn’t need it to, as he watches Tubbo’s ears carefully press against his head before forcibly relaxing again.

He makes sure he steps first into the vault.

Takes the first step towards Schlatt.

(it still doesn’t matter in the end.

it was never meant to be, a sovereign once said.

Tommy’s beginning to think it was an apology.)

iii.

“You know,” Tubbo says. “This would be L'manberg's last life.” He laughs a little as he says this; Tommy can't bring himself to laugh with him, the words sour on his tongue.

They've always held themselves differently.

Tubbo laughs even as he aches, shrugs it off while he bleeds.

Tommy rages, and he rages loudly. He grieves- though he grieves quieter, holds on to his hurt tight enough to bleed.

They have that in common, he guesses.

“You sound like you're already burying it,” he settles on. Tubbo slants a sideways look at him. The fringe of hair curling around his face isn't obscuring his eyes yet; Tommy catches every sharp thought flicking through Tubbo's eyes, and a few that he doesn't know how to read yet.

(This concept of unfamiliarity sits awkwardly in his hands; he's not sure how to hold its weight, so he sets it aside. He can't help but pick at the splinters that it leaves behind.)

“I'm preparing to,” he says simply. He doesn't have to say why. The angel's shadow hangs heavy on their doorstep. So efficient. So practiced. The memory of building their country's coffin lies engraved in their muscles. They sing its funeral hymn in their sleep.

“You're killing it before it's had a chance.”

Tubbo doesn't answer.

A whetstone passes over the sword glittering in his lap once, then twice more. Tommy turns back towards the grid hanging over them.

“Like Schlatt? Or like Wilbur?” Tommy flinches, unexpectedness slamming bodily into shame, a full-body reaction that unbalances him from where he's kicking his feet over the dock's edge; he pulls himself back.

Out of neglect, or out of fear? Do you think it’s because I never understood what L'manberg stood for to us, not like you did? Or because I was too afraid to hope, and look what that did to us, Tubbo doesn't say- or maybe Tommy's just filling in the blanks with fear and a memory of two exiles.

Maybe Tubbo really does just sound tired. Maybe they're all just tired. He swallows hard, and this time reaches out first, to bump Tubbo on the shoulder.

He forces out a breath, and forces them out of his head.

“You were better than either of those two bastards ever were.” Tubbo only raises an eyebrow at him.

He doesn't argue, though, and so they sit. Axe at Tommy's side, sword in Tubbo's hands.

At midnight, the angel's- the blood god's- the smiling god's- hounds bay, a resounding death knell. At midnight, the angel's wings darken their skies.

“It’s not- it’s not dawn,” Tommy shouts to empty air. Around them, the streets murmur, crescendoing to a wail as a wither, then another, then another barrels through their streets. “It’s too early! This isn’t fair!”

It’s too early.

They hadn’t said good-bye.

“This is war, Tommy,” the skies tell him. (At least they graced him with a reply, the tone suggests.) “War isn’t fair.”

None of this is fair. None of it was meant to be, none of it will be.

At dawn, the sun finds them at the bottom of L'manberg's grave.

(What do you do with a country taking its last breath?

You bury it where it can’t hurt.)

#dream smp #kit writes #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur soot #eret #nihachu #jack manifold #this fic was like. painful. im used to short oneshots not extended fics but i hope yall enjoy LOLOLOL #let's run west

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writefinch · 3 years

Text

Dear Dairy, Pt.1 (cn: noncon, Mm, kidnap, emphasis on *forced* feminization, induced lactation, milking, bondage, drugging, induction of gender dysphoria in a cis guy, things of that nature)

7th July 2018

Cold day today. I dusted off my scarves for the first time this year. Not literally, they'd been vacuum sealed and packed away when the weather turned in October. I threw out the red and yellow knit scarf, something I should have done last year, as it's far too Harry Potter. I was going to pick out the UMIST scarf but that felt a touch dull for the first scarf of the year. In the end I picked out the green silk paisley, which I felt provided a contrast with the pink shirt. I wore them with the second-hand grey Armani that I've yet to have tailored; I haven't yet decided if it's worth the trouble. I'm leaning towards yes, as I received two compliments today, one from Jason's database administrator, a charming and flirtatious--to say nothing of attractive--lady from Perth. We've talked about the possibility of meeting up for drinks at some point, and I'm increasingly inclined to take her up on the offer.

Experiment C2 is adjusting to his newfound freedom since his release last week. It was sad to see him go, and I'll cherish the time we spent together, our first night especially when he violently objected to the idea of servicing me. Oh, how he kicked and fought, clawing at his neck chain, scratching me, biting, swinging wildly. He bloodied my nose rather viciously and left me in no mood for sex that night, to the extent that I almost let him go entirely.

Of course, his demeanor changed altogether after I bagged him. A clear plastic bag over his head, taped around his neck, watching him gasp and writhe for air that isn't there, screaming his silly little head off until he's sure that he's taken his final breath, then tearing a tiny hole over his nostrils. I let him suck in four generous lungfuls of air before I bagged him the second time, and I went through seven bags before allowing him a rest. After that he became such an agreeable and solicitous cocksleeve you'd have thought he was raised in a merchant marine!

Still, he was unsuitable both physiologically and psychologically for the experimental interventions, and I only have so much space in the cellar, so I had to let him go. Some of my social acquaintances are keeping a close eye on him. He's been told that running his mouth will lead to nothing but the cold grave, and I believe he's a bright enough lad to take that to heart.

I'm beginning the search for his replacement tomorrow.

20th July 2018

I've found him! I've found him I've found him, he is everything I've been looking for, he is perfect, it is as if God placed that boy on earth for no other purpose than my need for him. I can barely contain my excitement.

He is an itinerant surf bum, twenty years of age, single, underemployed, estranged from his family. He has flowing blond hair, a few wisps under his chin that can barely be called a beard, deep brown eyes, and a lithe, rangy figure that seems to be slowly growing into the top-heavy carrot-shaped build of a classic surfer. He's been living in town since May, surfing most days, doing temp jobs, lodging in the spare bedroom of a friend of mine.

What a perfect physique! His body is accustomed to being dashed over rocks and whipped by surf, what fun I will have finding and surpassing his tolerances for pain! Oh, to restrict and ration out air to a boy who has trained himself to hold his breath underwater since he was a young teenager, to see those taut muscles stretched over a rack, I cannot wait, I can't wait.

I won't speak or write his name. I now take every action with the foregone conclusion that he is mine, and that he is already Experiment C3. In my mind, he is already in my cellar.

My friend has kindly allowed him to get behind on his rent, and C3 apparently plans to move to Sydney in ten day's time, driving out across the country in his decade-old Ford Ka, surfboard strapped to the roof. When he disappears a few days before that, people will assume he left to avoid paying his rent.

They won't be wrong, in a sense. C3 won't be worrying about rent for a long, long time...

26th July, 2018

It hasn't been an easy choice, and it is in fact a decision I've been struggling with for some time now, but I've decided to let my hair go grey. I'm almost forty for heaven's sake, and I noticed my first grey a year before the financial crisis. Ever since then I've been religious in my application of dye and toner, carefully concealing each and every one of the pale little buggers that pops up, but it's gone from something I'd do after a haircut to something I'm doing twice a week. I won't rush it, I'm going to ease off the dye over the course of the next year or so, but by next July I'll be au naturelle salt and pepper.

Work remains dull but tolerable. I know I'm blessed to be able to do most of my duties from home given my hobbies, but there's a certain sense of removal from everything, as if it's not really a job at all and I'm back at university doing a coursework-intensive compulsory module. On the other hand, I do enjoy going to the office in a way that I did not when I was going there five days a week!

Experiment C3 is screaming his head off again, I think. It's very faint, and I've turned off the air conditioning in the sitting room so I can hear it coming up from below. I suppose I can't blame the boy, given the circumstances. He hasn't seen me since the drugs wore off, and he's in the same configuration I first kept C2 in: his feet are in snowboard boots and locked into clips in the floor, his neck is in a steel collar connected to an eyebolt on the floor by a one-metre chain, his wrists are cuffed and pulled up towards the ceiling by another chain, he has noise-cancelling headphones strapped over his ears blaring white noise, and he's wearing a blindfold snug enough to prevent him from even blinking underneath it.

He's been there for seven hours now, since three in the morning. He can neither stand nor sit nor lie down, he cannot turn around, he cannot see--though it is pitch black in the cellar even if he wasn't blindfolded--he cannot hear his own voice, and I very much doubt he has any idea how he got there.

As I said, I haven't been down to see him properly yet, so I'm monitoring him at a distance via CCTV and also his pulse and blood oxygen readings. I'm keeping him watered through an IV drip and I'm not at all worried about feeding him just yet, though I'm sure he'll be getting hungry given that I emptied out the contents of his guts with an enema while he was still unconscious. I want him properly good and woozy from sleep deprivation before I introduce myself, either forty-eight hours or until his vitals get a tad skiffy, whichever is shorter. By my word, I am not an impatient man!

Of course, given the close monitoring required, I'll only be getting a few more hours sleep than he will. I suspect I'm getting the better half of the deal. Ah, the poor thing just wet himself. He needn't worry, it's all going into the bucket between his feet, and it'll go to good use later.

I've calmed myself down since his capture, for practical reasons as much as anything else, but I am still abuzz with energy. I am already looking forward to writing my next entry!

28th July 2018

I introduced myself to C3 today.

He spent an impressively long time in the stress position before he was unable to push his legs and instead dangled from his wrists, almost twelve hours, at which point I let the wrist rope go slack and allowed him to collapse. To prevent him from sleeping I intermittently blasted him with high pressure cold water whenever his pulse dropped below 100, for about a further four hours until I decided he'd had enough rest and strung his wrists back up.

He lasted five hours that time, so I let his wrists down again and stood sentry with a paintball gun, giving him a good and proper three-round burst whenever he stopped whimpering. Up again, barely an hour, down again, where I pinned him to the floor with wiring from an electric fence, set to deliver low-intensity zaps across his arms and chest whenever it seemed as if sleep was a possibility. He only got a few shocks, I think the first few put him in such a state of alarm that he didn't dare relax enough to be given another.

I strung him up a few more times, sometimes combining the motivators--his quivering thighs made a delightful target for paintballs as he tried to hold them in a crouching squat--until we reached the forty-ninth hour. I then played my recorded introduction tape through his headphones. It was identical to the one I'd played for C1 and C2, which was itself similar to the one recorded for B4 through B9.

Of course, as the deaf and blindfolded boy was crouch-squatting in place hearing my voice tell him that his old life was forfeit, that he was livestock now, that he would be used as a sex slave, that disobedience would only lead to misery, and the details of the hormone treatments he would be on, I was standing in front of him, masturbating.

My timing was impeccable. Just as the last lines of the recording said "if you're wondering when you'll meet me, I'm right in front of you," I came all over his whorish face. I'm afraid I'm no Peter North, I've no more than four spurts and the first one is always rather watery, but I nailed him right between the lips with one burst and smeared the rest over his face with the tip of my cock. He froze up rather delightfully during the whole ordeal, barely flinching as I cleaned off the tip in his hair.

I took the microphone and spoke directly into his headphones. I told him he'd been in his predicament for two days so far, that he was to obey my simple instructions, and that if he did he would be allowed food and allowed to rest. I told him that I would not require him to speak at any point during these instructions, and that if he so much as whispered I'd keep him strung up without food for another two days. He nodded in agreement, which earned him a hard slap, as I'd not asked him to nod or shake his head. I told him then to nod if he understood, which he did.

I freed one of his arms at a time, telling them to keep them in place and move them only as and when I told him to move them. He obeyed--a far quicker learner than C1--and I put him into the straitjacket. I unlatched his boots one at a time, putting him in ankle cuffs with a short length of heavy chain between them. I injected him in the buttocks with his first dose of anti-androgens, a painkiller, and his hormonal cocktail, and I removed the IV from his arm.

At that point I led him to his cage, a 2x3 metre cell, 1.5 metres high. I removed his blindfold, though it did him little good as it was pitch black in the entire room--I'd switched off the lights and was working via a set of light amplification goggles--and pushed him onto the wipe-clean bedroll.

"Lie still like a good little boy until the lights turn on, and then you can help yourself to some food," I said to him. He made a sound as if to respond, then silenced himself, lying still in his bonds.

The lights were on a timer, and they came on harsh and bright when I was upstairs, watching him through the CCTV on my desktop with a fresh pot of coffee. Three of the walls of his cage were walled off with a tarp, allowing him to see about a fifth of the basement through the remaining wall. Inside his cage was his bedroll, a doggie bowl full of oatmeal and bananas, a small plastic trough filled with fresh water, and a litter tray.

I considered staying up and watching him, seeing the fear grow in his eyes, his first attempt at eating cold food without the use of his hands, the humiliation of pissing in a litter tray, but I was exhausted. As soon as I've finished writing this entry, I'm going to take a well-deserved nap.

4th October 2018

The truffle salt from Coles is a waste of time. Don't misunderstand me, it's useable, it's palatable, and it has the necessary truffle aroma. "Has" is the key word there, it's got the half-life of Fermium and after a week in the cupboard it's now just table salt with black specks in it. I think I'm going to invest in some decent truffle oil at Christmas.

C3 is coming along marvelously. The combination of injections and a high-fat, high-calorie, vitamin-rich diet have had a visible impact on his physique. His skin has softened even further from a clear and healthy surfer's complexion to almost peachlike smoothness and he now has visible jiggle on his thighs, stomach and buttocks. Most importantly, he's now the not-at-all-proud owner of a set of A-cup breasts, complete with sensitive, pebble-sized nipples.

His breasts are extremely sensitive. He's told me as much directly, but I've confirmed it through experimental means. A few light stripes under the nipples with the cane used to bring a wince to his face when he first came under my care, now it brings him to his knees, and the mere sight of the thing leads him to cry and whine rather prettily.

He did have some issues with portion control, in that he wasn’t eating the full servings of food I had prepared for him. This was unreasonable and short-sighted on his part: while plain, I have not asked him to eat anything that I wouldn't willingly eat myself, and while I am not a professional cook I am certainly a talented amateur.

The solution was a simple one: if even a smear of food remains in his dish, I do not feed him for the next two to four days. I only had to enforce this rule twice, and he's finished every meal I've put in front of him for the past two months.

He's gone without sleeping for the last forty-eight hours, he's gone without speaking for the last three weeks, and I've added a low dose of LSD to his drinking water. Tonight he should be somewhat tractable for the induction of a hypnotic state. I am not trying to control his behaviour--there's nothing I want him to do that I couldn't compel him to do through more reliable means--but for an in-depth interview. In concert with a lie detector and a regulated dose of barbiturates, I am going to make him bare his soul to me.

There are a few specifics I'm interested in, such as confirming my assessment of his sexuality and gender identity, and it never hurts to shore up my security by inquiring of any planned means of escape or rescue, but in great part I am doing this for morale effect: I want him to have no respite from me, even inside his own mind. He will learn that he has no more control of his thinking than he does of his eating, sleeping or exercising.

Speaking of which, I had to leave him in an armbinder for a few nights when he insisted on doing press-ups in his cell. The additional restraints distressed him greatly, and he's seemed afraid to even move lest I restrain him further. That was back in August, and I have since acquired an elliptical trainer which I allow him to use daily, good behaviour permitting.

I will write again tomorrow with details of tonight's interview, and I only hope it's more productive than C2's interview was.

5th October 2018

Well, that was elucidating.

I left C3 unrestrained for the interview. It was his first time free of shackles and cuffs outside of his cage since he'd arrived, as I wanted him to be relatively comfortable and I was confident that his drug cocktail would prevent any serious escape attempts.

He is not a natural hypnotic subject and I was only successful in inducing a semi-trance state. I don't think he achieved a trance, but I think he believed he was in a trance, and for my purposes that was more than sufficient. He talked for hours and provided an unabridged history of his life so far. His parents, his brothers, his schooling, his love of surfing and camping, his romantic attachments and rejections, his childhood friends and bullies, his fear of dogs, his earliest memories, his deepest shames, enough to fill a short memoir.

The interview lasted for ten hours, with breaks every two hours to allow him to pee (as I'd also allowed him to drink lime cordial from a cup while he spoke) and to adjust his dose of drugs and deepen his trance state. He cried frequently and easily. He bears a great amount of shame and guilt for someone so young and so relatively innocent--raised by Catholics, naturally--and spent half of the fifth hour in uncontrollable hysterics. I let him rest his head in my lap and stroked his hair as he cried, and he clung on to me like a man drowning. Once he ran out of tears he had a bout of cathartic laughter, and after that a calm passed over him, and he remained in a state of detached, cooperative calm until I ended the interview.

Of course, most of this was filler and background information for the parts that truly interested me: his sexuality and gender identity. Both were perfect. His sexuality is less important but still delightful. He is entirely heterosexual and repulsed by men. He still has nightmares about the one time I have molested him so far, when I coated his face with cum shortly after his chapter. You wouldn't believe how hard I got as he told me that!

He sometimes masturbates in his cage, which he tells me is mostly from boredom than any sexual desire, and he fantasizes about sex with women. He has little interest in sadomasochism, no interest whatsoever about taking a submissive role, and aside from a weak interest in pegging he is plain vanilla. He has fantasies about sex in public, fucking multiple women, being woken up by receiving oral sex, and seducing older women.

His gender identity is much the same: male, through and through. He has insecurities about being slight and physically unimposing--related to bullying in school--and about being insufficiently masculine. He takes pride in the callouses in his hands and the scars on his body from surfing, and wishes that the thin, pale stubble on his face was thicker.

It's of little surprise then that he finds the changes from the hormones to be a cruel and unwanted imposition. His breast growth makes him feel powerless and disgusted with himself, he can feel his muscles weakening, the tenderness in his breasts is terrifying and degrading, and even the topic of penile and testicular shrinkage made him choke up and sob. He says that even when I allow him to sleep, his mind feels clouded and he finds it increasingly difficult to identify the particulars of his emotional state, which swings and changes in ways he is not used to.

Again, I must reiterate how promising this is. My experiments concern the induction of sexual neuroses and physical development on non-consenting subjects. C1 was unsuitable because he--well, she, more likely--was a little too keen to embrace the role I had planned for her.

C3 is sleeping now. I haven't actually left our impromptu "therapy room" and he's drifted off with his head in my lap. He needs the rest. I have big plans for him, after all.

24th October, 2018

I took a trip to the cinema today. Specifically the single-screen cinema in the back of the adult bookshop. C2 is turning tricks for the manager. I don't think it's his first career choice but for some reason he's been unable to get a job anywhere else in town. He tried being an independent streetwalker for a while, which didn't work out well for him as he was quickly picked up by the local police and treated rather roughly. Almost as if they were keeping an eye on him!

The manager of the adult bookshop got in touch with him, I believe he was waiting for him outside the local lockup in fact, and informed him of a safe, reliable means of plying his trade. Now he sucks cock in the back room cinema along with a handful of other whores in exchange for a roof over his head and ten percent of the ticket sales.

He was apparently given a second tour of the police cells for not handing his tips over to the manager in a timely and honest manner, so his left eye was still swollen shut when I saw him today. His garb was delightful: pastel pink yoga leggings with the Adidas stripes down the sides, and a duck egg blue midriff-cut t-shirt with "BOY" on the chest, with a female gender symbol in place of the O.

I sat down next to him in the otherwise empty cinema and flashed him my ticket, which had set me back $84--worth every penny--and he flashed me a charming smile. There was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes, like all of my experiments and side projects he'd never seen me without a mask. He put his hand on my thigh and told me his name, which I've already forgotten. The feature began, a rather energetic video from the noughties with Kelly Wells, Hillary Scott and Layla Riviera, prompting C2 to get on his knees in front of me. He gagged a little when he unzipped my jeans, not because I was unwashed but because I'd applied a generous quantity of deodorant and aftershave so that he would not recognise me via scent.

I enjoyed a slow, leisurely blowjob for the next hour, where he displayed all the basic techniques I'd so painstakingly taught him as well as a few new ones he'd picked up more recently. There's something to be said about consuming porn this way, not just the oral service but also watching the film from the beginning, without skipping forward to my favorite parts or switching between videos, letting myself slowly build towards my climax at the same pace as the on-screen action. I came just before the money shot, pulling out to cum all over C2's face as Kelly Wells guzzled piss on the big screen, and let C2 lick and suck my balls until the credits rolled.

Before he or I got up, I took out $20, waved it in front of his eyes, and then used the notes to wipe cum up from his face. He flinched at the roughness, scowled, told me to cut it out, and put his hand on my leg as if to push away from me. I said three words.

"Punishment position three."

It was as if I'd reached inside him and squeezed. He let out a pitiful squeak, straightened up on his knees, pushed out his chest, put his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let his tongue hang out. I stuffed the cum-soaked banknotes between his mouth.

"Be good, C2," I told him as I stood up. He didn't move a muscle as I walked out of the cinema, and as the door closed behind me, I heard a single muffled sob. It was an enjoyable experience and I certainly needed it after the last few days because C3 has really been a handful.

It began on the weekend when the first signs of lactation appeared. C3 has been getting increasingly upset with the changes to his body, his widening hips, his weight gain, his shrinking musculature, his shrinking genitalia, and his C-cup breasts. The breasts are especially upsetting, he complains that they ache constantly and are tender to the slightest touch. In any case, when the first droplets of milk dribbled out of his nipples something snapped.

Through tears, he told me that he refuses to eat, that he cannot live with the things I am doing to him, and that I should either let him go or kill him. Obviously this is unacceptable. I told him I was not treating his request with any seriousness, and that if he did not eat his meal, he would go without for the next several days. He nodded forlornly, but still refused the food.

I strapped his hands into leather mitts to prevent him from improvising methods of self-harm, and continued as normal. For the next three days, he refused to respond to commands or obey orders, remaining silent and going limp. He wailed in pain when I caned his soles and slapped his tits, but he continued to wallow in self-pity.

He was ravenously hungry by Wednesday, but when I gave him the opportunity to eat, he would not. I left the bowl of food in his cage overnight, and in the morning it remained untouched. He had not thrown it out or despoiled it, he had simply ignored it in an admirable, if misplaced, display of willpower. I gave him one final warning that there would be serious consequences if he did not eat now. He refused, so I applied the consequences.

I fitted him into a padded restraining board, on his back, his arms, legs, chest, stomach, forehead, chin, wrists and ankles held in place by canvas straps. He could not move an inch, not that he was trying particularly hard. A hollow dildo gag with a breathing hole went into his mouth, principally to prevent him from trying to bite off his own tongue. I catheterized him and inserted a hollow plug into his backside, not overly gently in either case, much to his consternation.

Then, intubation. I fed a heavily-lubricated silicone hose into his left nostril. He thrashed and twitched, as is expected when such a procedure is performed without the aid of benzodiazepines. Undeterred, I asked him to start swallowing, lest the tube end up in his lungs. He did as much gagging as swallowing, but after a few eventful minutes I felt the tell-tale glide of it being pulled down his esophagus and into his stomach.

Once the tube was taped in place under his nose, I attached the free end to a pump until it drew fluid out from within him. A few drops of this fluid onto pH paper revealed it to be stomach acid, which hopefully meant that the hose was not in his lungs. I then attached the hose to the feeding machine, and explained to C3 exactly how it would work.

He would have his meals and water combined into a slurry, kept at a cool four degrees celsius, and injected into his feeding tube. The pressure inside the hose would make breathing difficult or impossible while the food was being pumped, and the volume of his meals--around a litre and a half of slurry--meant that each feeding would be spread out in thirty second bursts, delivered semi-randomly over the course of an hour.

As I told him this, I undid my belt and began to masturbate. Despite the obvious temptations, I had not molested C3 in an overtly sexual manner since that first facial at the beginning of his captivity. By combining molestation with removal of autonomy, I wished to impress upon him the importance of obeying me with whatever autonomy I allow him to have.

I pressed the button on the feeding machine as I approached my climax. C3 squealed and gurgled like a drowning cat from the sensation of ice-cold sludge pumping through a tube in his sinuses and down into his throat, choking as the diameter of the tube expanded enough to cut off his breathing. He thrashed in his restraints with such force that he almost moved the gurney beneath him!

Seeing tears stream from his eyes was too much, and his eyes were precisely where I aimed. I landed a good few ropes on each eye, which he scrunched shut in disgust. When the tube stopped pumping I pried open his eyelids with my fingers and made sure a good quantity of my burning, stinging cum got in each eye, then smeared the rest across his face. He tried to blink it out, with little success, and before he could do much else I applied the padded blindfold. He hates and fears the eye-shutting pressure from the neoprene padding at the best of times, and wasn't overjoyed to wear it with his eyes gunked up with sperm.

He's been like that for the last three days, unable to move, speak or see, fed three meals a day through his nose. The only interaction he's had is when I've unrestrained his individual limbs and allowed them some movement, one at a time, to prevent bedsores and deep vein thrombosis, and when I come down to grope his sensitive tits. He is only able to relieve himself through the catheter and through enemas.

After a few days of stick, he's almost ready for the carrot. Tonight I am making pork carnitas with soft tacos, which he has told me is his favourite meal. I have also purchased one of the Harry Dresden books, which he told me he is an avid reader of. When dinner is ready, I will make him an offer: he will ask me for normal food and apologize for forcing me to use the feeding tube. In return he will be allowed out of his restraints and returned to his comfortable cage, along with his favourite meal and a good book, which he will be allowed to read during his spare time as long as he behaves himself.

I hope he accepts, for his sake and mine.

16 November 2018

C3 had his first true milking today! I've been teasing dribbles of milk from his nipples with my fingers for weeks, but today the volume was so high that I had to deploy a handheld breast pump. He whimpered for the duration but was obviously relieved by the reduction in pressure. It was as if he found the whole ordeal rather humiliating.

The milk is rich, a touch gamey, and less sweet than expected. I don't think the taste will be anything to write home about while his stress levels are so high, and I think that will be the case for some time. I've taken half for myself, and I'm mixing the other half into his food.

He's been docile since the force feeding. The intensity and inevitability of the punishment is part of it, but the rewards are equally important. My deal is that he can ask for anything once. Obviously I laugh at certain requests--he's not getting a phone or a two-way radio--and some things require compromise, but otherwise I have been accommodating. His cell now contains a lamp he can turn on or off, two dozen books and graphic novels, an old mp3 player, and a box of wet wipes. His relief from the constant boredom of being confined in a cage for twenty hours a day is palpable, and he has chosen the comfort that obedience brings over the misery that stems from disobedience.

He has asked if he'll ever be free from this basement and I truthfully said yes. One day he'll be walking around outside free of physical restraints and he will sleep at night in a bed he can truly call his own, though I'm unsure if he'll ever truly be free of me. He takes comfort in the fact that he has not yet seen my face or anything that might identify me, as he reasons that I am therefore not incentivized to bury him in a shallow grave to protect myself. His conclusion is correct but his premise is wrong; he'll know who I am eventually and I still won't fear him.

I'm currently milking him once per day regardless of his feelings on the matter, and I think this has hidden from him the fact that he now needs to be milked. Without his daily milkings the pain in his breasts would become unbearable, and soon he will develop mastitis if he's not milked. This will form another important part of his development: begging for things that are distasteful but necessary. With the exception of the wet wipes, there is nothing inherently humiliating in the things he's asking for. I believe he'll find begging to be milked intensely humiliating, and more humiliating still because of the tolls I'll extract from him when he goes down that road.

A brief note on his physical changes: his breasts are bigger but they remain C-cups for the time being. There are now a striking set of stretch marks on the sides and undersides of his breasts, along with some smaller, subtler ones on his thighs and buttocks which have also thickened up nicely. At some point I'm going to give him a regular schedule of retention enemas until he gets stretch marks on his belly befitting a pregnant little broodslut. His skin is delightfully soft and I'm shaving his face daily until the home electrolysis kit arrives. The combination of hormones, daily exercise bike sessions, and a lack of any upper body resistance training has changed his physique from a surfer's build to a more bottom heavy one.

As soon as I have finished writing this entry I am going to give him two gifts. The first gift is an ear piercing. It will be home to a yellow plastic tag, a miniature version of a cattle tag. The second gift is his name. He's not C3 anymore, and he's certainly not whatever stupid name he called himself before I acquired him. He has lovely tits and he's a milk cow, so his name will be Cowtits.

Cowtits. I think it suits him.

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lady-plantagenet · 4 years

Text

What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 1: CamelNOT

[Lively Music Plays]

I shit you not... that’s what it said in the CCs.

Tower of London (?)

*Catherine looks at the array of crowns like a museum curator and the proceeds to strut down the halls*

Wolsey: *gives her this strange look which is a mixture between damn girl and the eagle is my spirit animal.

Then Catherine gets fake detained and taken to Henry in what must be a strange variation of the whole Robin Hood/Maid Marian roleplay they historically engaged in.

... did she just call his erhm manhood his kingship? Well that’s original, I’ll give them that. Also funny how Bessie Blount initially looks on in fright... don’t worry girl that will be you soon.

———————————————————————

*the four ladies have a brunch friendship moment together*

I see Blount is among them... I see they are setting her up as Catherine’s friend in order to play up the whole betrayal.

Alright. Jokes aside, I realised how much I’ve played myself. I was inspired by @melusineloriginale ‘s sporks (which if all this TSP episode posts got you in the mood for PG show mockery I urge you to check out here - you’ll thank me later). In truth, Henry VIII’s early reign is a bit too late from my main area of focus for me to make intelligent jokes.

I’ll content myself with just bullet-pointing random thoughts that came into my head, and if some intelligent thought gets through, well that would be the pinnacle. In any case I’ll aim to not parrot some of the stuff that’s already been said, repetition can get annoying.

This image embodies this post, but maybe not the show. I’ve noticed those Starz productions get better by the end.

First Scenes:

- The recap just reminded me how much I will miss Margaret Beaufort in the coming episodes. I know her portrayal was innacurate but Harriet Walter just made everything better.

- They are making such a big deal out of this whole ‘we were crowned together, we rule together’ thing in this episode - it makes no sense. Catherine was an influential Queen but she was definitely no more than a consort and never saw herself as more.

- Ruairi’s new haircut is pleasing to my eyes.

- When she says ‘Abuelo’ it’s super adorable awww

The Ferdinand and Charles V scene:

- Bessie Blount looks so much like Ursula Pole lmao. Also they totally got the Pole children’s birth order wrong and UGH WHERE IS GEOFFREY POLE???

- I like Mary Tudor’s actress and her facial expressions. However, this whole polyglot image they are representing is innacurate. I am fairly certain she knew no spanish and I recall reading a contemporary account which said that she was not very learned.

- I’m pretty sure it would be considered bad luck to prematurely crown your son ‘Henry IX’ while you’re still alive.

- I actually like the whole Grape motif in this episode. It’s probably the smartest thing they’ve come up with so far for this episode. I know a lot of you will be all like ‘there’s no record of Ferdinand being abusive’ but this choice sort of makes sense when you recall Joanna’s treatment. Also I appreciate them for not being tacky and showing flashbacks of more overt abuse eg physical. The sugared grape is also fairly symbolic (the sugar is like a gilding, the grape easily crushable)

- OMG the guy from Garrow’s law is playing Thomas More!

- AND PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME IM NOT SEEING THINGS? Margaret Pole x Thomas More is happening?? Please god that is a historical crackship I am getting behind. Yes. This is what I’m most invested about.

Margaret Tudor and Scotland Scene:

- The whole ironic cutaway to Margaret being all depressed after Charles Brandon’s statement about her charming Scottish king is such a cliché movie technique.

- If this were a more artsy film I would think the whole setup resembling a stereotypical middle-class family breakfast was done on purpose for humorous effects or to create a link with the past. But here I don’t have as much trust in the producers. I think they just failed to capture the time period accurately.

- The modernisms continue: ‘Negassi please stop playing’ idk, there just something so modern about this for some reason ahaha

- Also again, I’m getting tired of all this ‘Catherine is basically queen herself’, ‘Catherine is a political genius’, ‘Catherine Catherine Catherine’ ugh. I don’t think the producers understand that Henry VIII was a very autocratic and traditional ruler. He didn’t make any show of joint-rulership (correct me if I’m wrong).

- The teeth thing is funny, smart and I liked it.

Back to Westminster:

- I like Ferdinand’s actor!

- Also Catherine’s response to ‘who are you loyal to?’ was not that smart. I feel like the producers wanted us to be impressed. What if Spain and England’s interests conflict, ey??

The Joust:

- I care too much for the whole Margaret Pole plotline. I’m so invested.

- I could watch a series of More and Pole just exchanging lines. I love the actors too and this is my hope for this series. The whole frustrated parents is SO CUTE.

- I didn’t know More tutored Reggie, I would be curious to know more.

- The way compton says groom to queen’s stool is freaking hilarious. He looks like a pervert.

- Henry Pole is a darling and must be protected at all costs.

- Oh Christ oh Christ that eyeball shot was just... good job on the special effects guys. Don’t know what the point of that choice was.

- I found the whole armour mentions after interesting, it looked so set up as a PR campaign because Stafford speaking about the armour just sounded like a statement agreed on beforehand ‘should have worn the same’ and the Catherine with ‘steel in the bones’ and Ferdinand’s impressed face (it was him playing them?)

- Am I giving this show too much credit?

- Also whats up with “God save the Queen?”

War Counsel:

- Henry VIII’s actor is quite charismatic in this scene. It’s almost as if Catherine is the hothead and Henry the wise one that speaks less but more significantly. It almost feels like they gender-swapped them.

The Bedchamber:

- Did Catherine breastfeed the baby? I thought it was Anne Boleyn. Doubtful... I’m tired of the trope of ‘you’re a good woman if you insist on breastfeeding the child yourself despite social conventions’. For a feminist show, the writers seem very attached to some 1950s perceptions of motherhood.

- I feel like the age difference between Catherine and Henry is well conveyed.

Scotland Again:

- ‘All the sheep were pregnant’ 👀 oh touché Margaret. oh my. Did she just?

- I know they are playing out this disenfranchised Margaret arc to reinforce how great Catherine and Henry are (cheap technique) and to build up to her involvement in Flodden (innacurate historically but I know what the show will do). But I will say this: the humour is pretty good in the Scottish scenes! But I know it’s unintentionally so... (I highly doubt they wanted us to laugh at Margaret hitting James or calling Alexander a pig).

Westminster and the baby chamber:

- What’s are those red splotches on the babies face??

- Oh that shot of Margaret and silent Reginald :((( it makes me sad.

- And now the Poles are at church! I just love the look of them.

- That scene of Maggie and Catherine was needed, as we didn’t get the best friends vibe much in this episode. The whole thing looked a bit pagan though, but it was nice :)

The whole Ferdinand’s betrayal segment:

- The grape motif again was fitting, him snapping the fruit right before she gets to it even despite her knowing what he’s like and what he’ll do, was a good parrallel.

- I’m tired of hearing of this ‘Camelot’. Even in the novel, Camelot was Catherine and Arthur’s dream and... can we just live it up with Arthur?

- Ursula Pole’s, Bessie Blount’s and Mary Boleyn’s actresses look way too similar.

- I fail to see why Catherine thinks she’s turning into her father... she doesn’t strike me as much of a game-player or subtle two-facer.

- I’m intrigued what will happen with Oviedo and Lina... I feel like they won’t stay in England long.

- He was made knight bannaret... nice... but why does he thank Catherine publicly for this? It was in Henry’s gift that he was made a commoner Knight.. if this transpired irl Henry would have been gravely insulter.

Catherine’s Dead Baby and thereafter:

- Guys. In all seriousness, I don’t think the TV series is trying to imply that Catherine killed the baby with her negligence. I mean, they are so bent on us liking her they wouldn’t do that. It would be a bit too ballsy anyway. Remember the red splotches I mentioned earlier? Could those have been a sign that he was already ill but no one noticed/was in denial?

- The pebbles in hands would have had more emotional payoff if it had been established earlier if you know what I mean. Basically, this episode is too fast and entire arcs begin and end within it which extinguished any build-up.

- Oh man Henry is so sweet in this, how will they build him up as the tyrant he was historically if they keep this up?

Scotland Again:

- I must admit, I don’t like all those nicknames they keep using. But somehow James calling Margaret ‘Meg’ is nice and seems fitting.

- What’s a hermana sister?

England Last Mourning Scenes:

- YOU DID NOT BUILD CAMELOT ughhh

- Why is Catherine giving the speech and not Henry?? It turns out Catherine was more emotional historically then the whole perception of ‘perfect queen of stone’ to which some people hold her. However, I doubt it would have been proper of her to give a speech in such a emotional manner.

Conclusion:

6.5/10

Some of the dialogue was stilted, the costumes are confused as to which era they’re supposed to be (aesthetically distracting) and many other characterisation issues.

I don’t have high hopes for this series in terms of cinematography or art but I sure as hell expect it will be entertaining. So far, everything is just getting set up and I find some aspects promising. As you can tell I am truly excited over how the Margaret Pole plotline. I am also interested in how Henry will be portrayed, with Catherine being so OTT and pushy this episode Im starting to Stan him more. In this show he appears sensitive and serene and kinda... adorable. Kind of like a little brother hanging onto his sister’s skirts.

But in a way that is a disservice to the real historical figure which would not tolerate such a representation. I am very irritated by this whole ‘joint-rulers’ thing which is just sooo innacurate. These STARZ shows have an obsession with showing women turn into men for the purposes of feminism - I see.

Catherine overpowers Henry too often and it sometimes feels like he’s HER consort. Of course, the feminism in this show is schizophrenic as we get the overemphasis of Catherine as a 1950s motherly ideal with the whole breastfeeding angle (“you’re better than other noble woman who would find this beneath them”, “they’re not as motherly as you”).

So the relationship dynamic between Henry and Catherine is a bit off at the moment, but oh well.

Mary Tudor is a bit distracting with her dark hair but I find the actress extremely endearing and promising. I know there will be emphasis on her storyline too and I hope they’ll not be clichéd with it.

#the spanish princess #the spanish princess 2 #lady plantagenet's series reviews #not my best #but I've been ill for most of the week and wanted to get this out before episode 2 comes tommorow #feel free to send me an ask if you you have anything to say #I'd love to see if anyone else thought some of the same things

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lukatheselkie · 4 years

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FrUk Week Day Seven - Free Day (Hair)

It took me WELL over 24 hours to decide on exactly what I wanted to do for this. I spent my entire actual seventh day trying to figure it out, and then some. So that’s why this is late. I’m not good with free days lol. But I’m proud of this! They’re so cute! (Also someone please draw France with his hair in the last part 🥺 I’ll love you forever. I would do it but I can’t art unless it’s TINY, a painting, writing, or I take FOREVER.)

Francis scoffs loudly when he sees Arthur up close for the first time in months. “I can’t come over because I have business to attend to in my country, and you forget how to properly take care of yourself? Unacceptable!” Arthur can’t help but smile. His tone is condescending, but he knows it comes from a place of love. Francis takes his hand, and leads him into his bathroom. “Thank goodness I brought my shampoo. What have you been using?” He looks at the shelves in his shower, and scoffs. “Arthur! Two in one? Really? Must I teach you how horrible that is for your hair again?” He shakes his head, and starts the water for a bath. “I’ll wash your hair for you. I might be able to do something with the horrible state it’s in.” He lets the water run over his wrist for a moment, before plugging the tub after determining it’s a good temperature. “Honestly.” He shakes his head. “Get in. I’ll be right back.” He leaves the room.

“The shampoo and conditioner you told me to use are too expensive,” he mumbles to the empty room. He glances at his reflection, and grimaces. His hair really does look awful. Maybe he’ll actually start using what Francis said was the best for him. He removes his clothes, carefully setting them aside. He adds a bit of bubbles to the running water, and slips into the bathtub. The hot water immediately starts working on muscles he hadn’t realized were tight. He smiles to himself. Francis must have noticed, and that’s why he started the bath instead of a shower. He’s more observant than most give him credit for. Arthur turns off the water, then tilts his head back and sighs in content. He closes his eyes, relaxing a bit more in the water. It feels too nice not to.

“I’m glad I brought my hair care items! Non, I’m glad I’m staying a couple of weeks. One wash will do next to nothing for that amount of damage! Be glad I love you, I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” He turns to the tub, and smiles when he sees his love’s eyes closed. “Good. You needed to relax. How long has it been since you let yourself unwind?” Arthur flushes crimson, opening his eyes slowly.

“A week before we last saw each other.” Francis clicks his tongue. “I know. I should take better care of myself. I’m sorry.” He looks at him pleadingly.

“Don’t give me that expression. And don’t apologize. You know I like taking care of you.” He smiles sweetly at him. “Close your eyes again. I don’t want to get anything in them.” Arthur does as he’s told, relaxing again. Francis sits next to the tub, filling a cup he brought with him with water. He pours it over the Brit’s head, wetting his hair. He runs his fingers through it, making sure it’s all wet. He nods to himself, and squeezes some shampoo into his hand. He rubs it into Arthur’s hair, smiling a bit at the bubbles it makes. He makes sure it coats his hair thoroughly, and lets it sit for a few minutes. He rinses it out carefully, making sure not to get any near his eyes. “One more. Your hair feels better already. Honestly, Arthur, why on earth do you use that stuff? It’s damaging your hair!” He shakes his head, opening his conditioner bottle. He rubs it into his hair, using a generous amount. It’s probably too much, but this conditioner is meant to heal damaged hair. A little extra won’t hurt.

“I know. I’m going to throw it out. I won’t even finish it. I just wish what you told me was best for my hair wasn’t so expensive!” Francis chuckles quietly.

“Taking proper care of your hair means spending more money. But it’s worth it. You don’t want it to be dry and brittle, do you? It’s so easy to break when it is! Then you have to get a haircut, get a treatment, there’s so much to do if you don’t take proper care of it! Besides, I like your hair the length it is. It’s perfect. Just like you.” He presses a soft, gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t be so sappy,” Arthur grumbles, face turning red. Francis lets out a bark of laughter.

“Why not? I only speak the truth, mon cher. You are perfect to me.”

“If I had my eyes open, I would be rolling them.”

“Non, do not open them. I am about to rinse again.” He fills the cup with water, and pours it over his head. He runs his fingers through his hair, pouring more water over it. He does this a few times, until he no longer feels product in his hair. “There. Now you may open them.” Arthur opens his eyes slowly, immediately staring into his love’s.

“Kiss me before I get you wet trying to kiss you, my beautiful.” Francis presses his lips to Arthur’s lovingly. He pulls away after a moment, smiling at him.

“I shall leave you be. Enjoy your bath. I will be on your couch, watching something. Love you!” He runs out of the room quickly, taking his cup, shampoo, and conditioner with him. Arthur rolls his eyes, but sinks down in the water nonetheless. He feels better from the shampoo and conditioner. Maybe he’ll take a nap. That sounds nice. He closes his eyes yet again, feeling content.

Arthur thanks the florist hurriedly, and hugs the two bouquets of flowers to his chest as he runs outside. He places them in his passenger seat, and turns on his vehicle. He glances at them every now and then as he drives home, making sure they’re okay. They make it without even a sign of wilting, and he rushes inside. He places one on his bed, and holds the other in his arms. He takes a deep breath and walks to the front door, waiting for Francis to get back. He doesn’t have to wait long. He opens the door for him, and holds out the bouquet. His eyes widen, and he smiles brightly. “Red roses! Oh Arthur. Thank you. So much. I love you.” He spins Arthur around, then kisses him passionately, being careful not to crush the flowers. When he pulls away, he also takes the roses.

“That’s not all. Put those in a vase, then sit on the couch with your eyes closed. I want to do something else for you.” Francis raises a brow at him, but doesn’t ask any questions. He goes into the kitchen to search for a vase, and Arthur runs to his bedroom. Their bedroom, when his love is visiting. He picks up some scissors he placed on the bedside table earlier, and carefully cuts the flower heads off, leaving a bit of stem. He gathers them up, and goes to find Francis, who is exactly where he told him to be. The roses are on the coffee table in front of him, looking almost as stunning as him. “I’m going to touch your hair now. Please trust me, and don’t open your eyes!”

“Oui, alright. But you better not mess up my hair! I put too much effort into keeping it flawless.” Arthur laughs quietly.

“I know. Hopefully I’m improving it. At least for the day.” He can tell this catches Francis’ interest, but he doesn’t ask about it. Thank goodness. He takes a small section of his hair, and starts braiding it. When he gets a good start, he grabs one of the flowers and weaves it into the braid. He finishes the braid off, then adds another one. He braids another section next to it, weaving one flower into the area between the two from the last one. He continues on like this, alternating the design, until he’s out of flowers and hair to braid. “Alright! Now go look in the mirror.”

“I am very interested in what you have done.” Arthur grins at him, and motions him toward the mirror. He laughs, and goes to look at his reflection. The moment he sees it, his hands fly up to his mouth. “Oh Arthur… It’s beautiful.” He turns and hugs his love tightly. When he releases him, he turns back to his reflection. There’s two-toned irises of many different colours woven into his hair, in the braids he felt Arthur making.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers, wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses a chaste kiss to the side of his neck. “They just accent your beauty.” He stares at their reflection, and smiles. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.” He smirks. “And you’re very lucky too, you know.” Francis laughs, turning his head to kiss the corner of Arthur’s mouth.

“I am. What did you do this for? And don’t try to tell me because you felt like being romantic, I know you better than that.” The Brit laughs.

“You caught me. I wanted to thank you for putting up with my stubbornness. I know I can be a handful sometimes. But you still love me. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate that. Especially since you have to go back to France in a few days. I don’t want you to go, but I know you must. This is the least I can do to show you I love you.” Francis wraps his arms around him tightly.

“I love you too. And I will cherish these flowers until they die. They aren’t coming out of my hair, I don’t care if I have to miss a day or two of washing it. These are more important. You are more important. I hope you know that.”

“I do.” He nuzzles him. “Now get off of me before we get any more sappy.” He shoves him away, cheeks crimson. “I’m not embarrassed! You are!” Francis laughs, nodding quietly. There’s the Arthur he knows and loves. So very much.

#frukweek2020 #day 7 #aph fruk #aph france #aph england

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frontproofmedia · 3 years

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Lara vs. Warrington 2 + Undercard Press Conference Quotes

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Published: September 04, 2021

Eddie Hearn: “Thank you for being here in Leeds today, what a turnout, it feels so good. I forgot what this felt like, the big stage, the media, the fans, the atmosphere and anticipation for a massive night on Saturday in Leeds. “20,000 people at Headingley Stadium, the home of Leeds Rhinos transformed for an epic night of boxing, live and exclusively on DAZN all around the world. “This is one of the best cards we have ever put on and on Saturday night you are going to have a night and experience you will never forget. Inside the stadium, inside the ropes, the fans in the arena will get one of the best nights of live boxing they have ever witnessed and on screen we will bring you the best talent line-up in boxing. “This Saturday Laura Woods leading the presentation with Tony Bellew, over to Darren Barker and Chris Lloyd, then we mix it up with Mike Costello the legend and Andy Lee. What a team we have here and what a night we have.” Josh Warrington: “It’s good to be back, it’s nice of everyone to turn up and nice to see there’s going to be a big crowd on Saturday night – it feels normal. This is what I got used to, I got used to this big stage ever since I won the World Title. I’ve been looking forward to this for such a long time, we were talking about conquering the world together, winning the Ring Magazine belt, Las Vegas, New York and ride off into the sunset. “What happened on February 13 happened, it was a hard lesson to take but this is where the next stage goes on, the next chapter begins. I’ve been about the game a long time and I can’t wait to redeem myself. “I take him [Lara] very seriously, I think the first time he said that he saw fear in my eyes, there’s not fear in there I was just looking straight through him. I didn’t think that he could bring what he delivered and that’s my mistake, that’s me being too cocksure of myself. I won’t make that same mistake again; I have the fear factor about this one. He said some random comments about me slagging his dad off, I slag my own dad off, but there’s no personal animosity between me and Mauricio – it’s just business. “When Anthony Joshua got his redemption against Andy Ruiz Jr, it was done and forgotten about and that’s going to be the same Saturday night. I’m sure he’s come over with a bit of an entourage, he looks smart today, had a haircut, but once he’s been done, he’ll have given me a massive lesson in my career but that will be it, we’ll move on. “I’m a proud man and it would have made my toes curl to see and watch somebody else fight Mauricio Lara. I want to get my redemption, I feel that Lara is a great fighter, a strong fighter, but I feel like I’ve been at a higher level for such a long time and beaten fighters that are such a higher level than what he is. “I turned a few book deals down last year and I think after February 13 publishers weren’t bothered about writing a book about Josh Warrington anymore. After Saturday night we’ll put it right, add a few zeros onto that book deal. Going back to normality, going back to a stadium, having people in the crowd – they’re my second wind, my adrenaline, my twelfth man, that little advantage. They’re part of Josh Warrington’s attributes, it’s going to be special to walk out, I’ll give them redemption.” Mauricio Lara: “I hope everyone is well, we have to think now that February 13 February is in the past. I’m now completely and 100% focused on putting on a good show on Saturday. I’m prepared not 100%, but 1000%. Perhaps people didn’t know me previously, but they do now in certain areas, there’s going to be a repeat of what happened – there are no surprises in life. “It really hurt me that a great champion like him [Josh] didn’t give me the credit for my performance but that’s in the past now. I can’t wait for Saturday to come along now and I’m going to show him, in his words, that we’re definitely not on the same level – I’ll have my hand raised on Saturday night. “I’ve prepared for a knockout, but I’ve also prepared for the twelve rounds, I can assure you it won’t go the distance.” Katie Taylor: “This is the first fight in a long time where I’ve actually fought in front of a live crowd, the fact that’s here in Leeds, some of my best memories as a kid are visiting this city, going to Leeds United games at Elland Road. This city has a special place in my heard and I never thought I’d have a chance to fight here. I’m just so excited about it. “This is a huge fight for both of us, I don’t overlook anybody, I can’t afford to get complacent and when you do it’s when you start to actually lose fights. I have prepared for this fight just like I’ve prepared for any fight. I’m expecting a tough challenge on Saturday, and I’m prepared for that. “I feel great, I know I can’t do this forever, but I still feel very fresh right now and I still have plenty more years in the ring. This training camp has gone great, I feel sharp and strong, I can’t wait to produce one of my best performances on Saturday night.” Jennifer Han: “My team and I have travelled a long way, all the way from El Paso, Texas, to be here to show the world what we have. I’ve worked my entire life for this kind of opportunity and I’m excited to be here – it’s my time. “It’s already been life changing, we’ve worked hard, and I’ve overcome many obstacles to get to this point. I’ve never fought on this kind of a stage, so this is going to be amazing. “I do have a lot of respect for Katie, I’ve studied her and it’s time to shine on Saturday.” Conor Benn: “It’s either going to be a proper serious fight or someone’s getting laid out, and it isn’t going to be me. That’s for sure. I work so hard, confidence is a luxury for the hard working, and people mistake by confidence for arrogance. But those people aren’t up with me running at 3 in the morning. I’m crushing it in the gym, and when I work as hard as I do, I have the right to be confident because I leave no stone unturned. “Look at the shape of me. That’s a testament to the five years hard work, that’s a testament to my team working overtime, my strength and conditioning coach, my physio, my nutritionist, Tony, my agent, it all plays a massive part. Teamwork makes the dream work they say, that’s where we’re at. All I have to do is focus on beating the geezer up in the other corner, my team allows me to do just that – I’ve done it now 18 times. “I’m very confident, Granados is a massive test, he’s been in with the top boys, the top dogs. He thinks he’s experienced and that he’s tested at a high level. What did Formella say, what did Vargas say. If they don’t want to believe the hype, I’ll make them believe the hype, it’s as simple as that. I work so hard to be denied and that’s where that ends. It’s been five years of hard work, I love this life, I’m a fighter. “You’ve seen the change, the transformation, it hasn’t come overnight, and it hasn’t come easy. I’ve put the work in every single time, I give 100%, I’m leaving it all in there Saturday night. “I don’t believe the hype whatsoever, not in the slightest, otherwise I still wouldn’t be getting up and doing my runs – I’d think I was all that and a bag of chips. I don’t rely on my power, I’ve been watching Granados’ fights, against Broner and Easter, he gave them one hell of a fight. One of the best Granados and I believe I’m going to get the best Granados. Create the hype and don’t believe it. “I’ve had so many people come up to me and say it’s going to be some reception you know; it’s going to be incredible. I’m thinking they’re going to top my O2 debut you know, I just have a feeling about it. I’ve had such a warm welcome here, big shoutout to the Leeds supporters, thank you. We’ve got a job to do Saturday but after that, I might join you lot in the pub and have a beer.” Adrian Granados: “First and foremost, I want to give thanks to God. Thanks to Eddie for reaching out for me, giving me this opportunity, everyone at Matchroom and DAZN. It was unfortunate, both of us were chomping at the bit for this fight, very exciting build-up and then a day before the weigh-in Conor tested positive for COVID. “This is the age we live in now, although I was very frustrating and upset, everything happens for a reason, and I believe it worked out. Now we’re fighting in Leeds in front of 20,00 people, I’m excited, I’ve already dreamt about fighting here, overseas, I come from Chicago. It’s a dream come true, everyone has been very welcoming and accepting. Now it’s fight time and I’m ready to get this fight going Saturday. “It’s boxing talk, I understand the confidence he’s portrayed and that’s why I’ve answered back and let him know I’m obviously not here to lay done either. I think it makes for an exciting fight, I think our styles are going to match well, l think we’ve got a classic in the making. May the best man win, may God protect us both and we both come out safely.” Jovanni Straffon: “It’s great to be back here in England. What I would say about the fight is it’s not a fight between Mexico and the UK, it’s me and my opponent in the ring. What I will say is that I have the hunger when I go into these fights, I look at this as if this belt was vacant and I have to go in and win it – I have to show that hunger to do that. “Any fighter that’s in front of me is a block in the road for and I have to take them away. They’re also a thief because they’re taking money from my family. I come to fight, and I hope he also comes to fight. “First and foremost, I’m not overlooking Maxi in this instance, he shouldn’t either. It’s dangerous when fighters do that, I want to show I have the hunger, if he wants to win this fight, he’ll have to kill me. On Saturday you’ll be shouting Viva Mexico.” Maxi Hughes: “I’m grateful for the opportunity, I’ve worked hard and been in the pro game eleven years. I believe I am just getting started, whoever’s the oldest world champion, I’m going to try and break that record. “A lot of people are now referring to me as the Cinderella Man, that couldn’t be truer, this morning my missus said to me this house needs cleaning before you leave this house. I’ve been cleaning the house, but when I go to the ball on Saturday night in Headingley I’ll be coming home with two glass slippers on. “It’s the experience, I’m older and wiser, you can’t buy or steal experience, you’ve got to go out and earn it. Doing this as long as I have and being around some top domestic opposition, it’s all led me to where I am. Everything happens for a reason, every fight I’ve took and not got the decision has led me to this, now’s the time to capitalise on it and reap the rewards of the resilience, hard work and dedication I’ve shown. “I want to put my name up there in the top ten across the world, hopefully across all the sanctioning bodies. While I’m in this red-hot form, get the win on Saturday and you better put me in the ring with Canelo in this form before it runs out. “Josh has been a great World Champion, not only did he win the World Title, but he defended it successfully in great fashion. You only need to look at what he’s doing in the gym, copy what Josh does because he’s laid out how you become and stay a world champion. We get on well aside from boxing, it’s been brilliant bouncing off each other in the gym. It’s been brilliant to share training camp with him.” Ebanie Bridges: “I’m actually really excited about this fight, watching her [Mailys] fight with Ellie, I think she has a great style, and our styles are going to gel really well together. I think with that it’s going to make it an exciting fight, she’s tough and I love tough opponents. I’m looking forward something exciting there, another good performance by myself. I’m only getting better, feeling stronger than ever, I’m looking forward to showing you all what I’ve got come Saturday night. “Training with Brian Cohen in America and having those eight weeks in Philadelphia, I’m really focused on footwork and balance – plating my feet. We all know I’m strong but if you can’t get into position, it’s not effective. Now I feel like I’m really nailing that, we saw that with Bec, about the positioning and planting the feet to throw those shots to get my full power into it. “My cut for this fight was easy, I just fought four weeks ago. I’m hungry as ever, I love to fight, I’m hungry to punch on.” Mailys Gangloff: “It’s a good fight because it will be at my perfect weight class, I think I’ll bring something that couldn’t bring the last time I was here. I’m very excited, I hope it will be a very good show.” Hopey Price: “It’s good to keep busy, I’m glad I got out two weeks ago and it’s good to be back home, in front of my hometown and fans. It’s another step up, another step forward in my career, there’s a lot of good fighters on this show, a lot of fighters from Leeds, but I’m coming to steal the show on Saturday night. “Another good performance this weekend and I’m looking to step up again and it won’t be long before the domestic titles come my way.” Zahid Hussain: “I’m definitely looking forward to it, in front of 20,000 people. I’d like to thank Matchroom, my manager Steve Wood and my coach for spending time training me.” “I’m just going to do what I do best. Experience is going to play a major part on Saturday night.” Jack Bateson: “I’m buzzing to be back here in Leeds with a crowd, now Covid’s on its way out. Thanks for the opportunity, Eddie and yeah, I’m looking to shine, it won’t be last time I’ll be on one of these big cards. I’m looking forward to it. “I’ve known Josh since we were young kids, growing up, I want to be where he is now. He paved the way for us and I’m sure that one day if I keep working hard, I can be where he is and doing it for the city.” Felix Garcia: “First and foremost, thanks for the opportunity to be here. I’m extremely happy to be here and I’ve prepared extremely hard for this night. Hopefully you’ll see the best of me on Saturday.” Brandon Stansfield: “This is a massive opportunity for me, a big stage now coming from Bradford Hotel on my last fight jumping to this fight, it’s a massive opportunity for me and I cannot wait. “I did quite well with tickets, a lot really. I’m one of the first ones on, I’ll get changed and watch Josh Warrington do his thing again.” Mali Wright: “I’m looking forward to it man, I can’t believe it, fighting in my hometown of Leeds. I went to university in Headingly, I used to live there, 2-minute walk from the stadium. It’s surreal even seeing my name here, so I can’t wait and I’m looking forward to it.”

(Featured Photo: Mark Robinson/Matchroom Boxing)

#HF #Mauricio Lara #Josh Warrington #Ebanie Bridges #Matchroom Boxing #DAZN

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taexual · 4 years

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HOLIC - 48 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst

words: 3.4k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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The next few days passed by surprisingly quickly. You’ve set your mind on a fair number of things and finally relieved yourself of some of the exhausting doubts that have clouded your mind for as long as you could remember. Most importantly, you’d decided to quit your job at the gallery – and, thus, began your last week of work before you moved on, diving head-first into the dark unknown.

Knowing that you wouldn’t have to work there anymore and no longer having to stress out about your potential exhibition made every morning much easier as you no longer had to spend the first fifteen minutes after waking up cursing at every inanimate object in your way. On top of that, although plunging yourself into the abyss of uncertainty was relatively scary, you still felt alive with excitement. Not to mention, now you had much more time to find a new job, all while rehearsing the words you were going to say to Jaebum once Jackson finally called you with a way for you two to meet.

You had decided to start to work on a new version of yourself but, first, you needed to fix your relationship with Jaebum. That was the only broken thing from your past that you wanted to take into the future with you. No, “wanted” didn’t quite describe it – needed, perhaps. You needed this relationship to continue because you were afraid of your life without it. You were waiting for Jaebum to make the choice of where to go from here but, even though the reins were in his hands, you weren’t going to stop fighting for the one solid thing on an otherwise rocky foundation of your life.

This determination was a relatively new feeling for you but it was the only feeling that you were certain about. If, like Jaebum, you had to pick the most prominent emotion that you were feeling and put it into your art, you’d have picked the overflowing love and inserted it into all things around you until your surroundings were screaming as loud as your heart was.

Thinking of Jaebum was what made the wait for Jackon’s call so difficult. You went on with your life – or, tried to – choosing to busy yourself with work instead of sulking, but you couldn’t help but feel your mind wander back to him again. It was like the aforementioned love always pulled your thoughts towards him, never letting your mind stray from him for too long.

And that was how, after convincing Eva that you weren’t going to change your mind about quitting, you finished your day at work, and found yourself looking at the pictures of Jaebum you’ve taken on the day he brought you to Jackson’s studio for the first time. Looking at them brought back all the memories, especially accentuating the fight you and him had had before he gave in and finally played “Don’t Touch Me” to you.

You’d both done and said some awful things to each other that night and you could still recall how much Jaebum’s doubts about you made your chest sting. What made it hurt even more, however – actually, so much more, that for one passing moment, you thought you were having a real heart attack – was Jaebum’s confession that he was terrified of himself around you because he wasn’t thinking. Because he forgave and forgot, and kept giving you second chances every time you did something that raised red flags in his overly-alert mind.

The memory made it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

You’d been so angry and so upset with him for saying those things – for even thinking that you’d ever treat him in any way that he didn’t deserve – and then you made his fears come true by omitting the truth. By selecting which parts of your life you wanted him in. By lying, just like he was afraid you would.

Closing your laptop shut, you got up from the bed and left your room as you tried to breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth. It was a pathetic attempt to calm down, really, because it seemed as though your heart was now a whole separate being that was powered by your anxiety and had promptly gone into overdrive.

Breathing exercises didn’t help. Drinking water didn’t help. Lying down made it even worse.

It was the sort of wave of suffering and self-hate that you could have only been saved from if someone told you that everything was going to be okay. No, not someone—him. But he wasn’t here and it didn’t seem like it was going to be okay – hence why you were nearly shedding your skin as you tried to find a way to break out of the paralyzing chains of pain.

You’ve lived through the past few days worried and anxious but still in control. You’ve lived hoping and anticipating your conversation with Jaebum. You’ve considered what you were going to say. You’ve even rehearsed it all. But the consequences of your words is what pained you now.

You haven’t given Jaebum’s response any thought. You had set your mind on explaining yourself to him and giving him enough time and space to decide what he wanted to do but now the raw grips of panic were tearing you into pieces just at the thought of Jaebum choosing not to do this anymore. And the worst part was, you didn’t think it was fair for you to keep on fighting if he gave this up. He was just as mature as you were and he had certainly thought about this as much as you have – what would you even say if he told you to leave?

He had every right to let your relationship go because he deserved one where he would never be put in a situation like this. You didn’t think you had a right to search for ways to make him stay with you if your behavior proved to make him suffer. If you turned out to be as toxic for him as the girl you’d tried so desperately to save him from.

Suddenly, it felt like this was the last time you were standing in your kitchen. And, in a way, you were glad. You felt trapped here, in this room. You felt just as trapped in your own body – but the helpless feeling was slowly fading. Searching for an empty glass inside one of the kitchen counters calmed your heartrate down, replacing the desperate wave of fear you’d felt with a silent numbess.

It was as if a sixth sense had opened something up inside of your heart – subconsciously, you knew what was going to happen the next second, so your mind and body had to prepare in advance: you couldn’t possibly start to hyperventilate when Jackson finally called. And, as soon as you grasped the glass of water in your shaky hands, trying to keep yourself hydrated despite the pointlessness of the task, your phone finally rang.

You lunged for it, drops of water spilling on the kitchen island – empty now that Jaebum wasn’t here to eat meals with you – and nearly landing on your phone, too. You could barely keep yourself together when you saw Jackson’s name on the screen.

“Yes?” you picked up, the one word coming from the back of your throat and thus making you sound like you just woke up even though it was way past into the afternoon now.

“Hey. Sorry it took me so long to call you back,” Jackson started and you couldn’t help but notice the voices in the back of his call. You wondered if Jaebum was there with him. “I—I’ve found a way for you to talk to him.”

Your entire chest seemed to expand to provide more space for your wild heart as it continuously banged against every single rib in your ribcage.

“You did?” you asked, the words coming out in a huff.

“Yeah. There’s, uh, this party his label is hosting this Friday,” Jackson said, quieter now as if he was trusting you with a big secret. “We’ve both been invited and, even though he said he’s not going, I’ll drag him there myself. One of the producers owns this club downtown, so we’re getting a private lounge, and, you know, it seems like a good spot as any for a serious conversation. Away from the maddening crowd, so to speak.”

“Yes, yes, that sounds perfect,” you were nodding frantically. “Are you sure you can get him to come, though? Jaebum isn’t really someone that gives in to persuasion easily.”

“That’s true but alcohol makes this much easier for me,” Jackson replied. “He won’t miss a chance to get drunk. Especially amidst all that’s happening, you know?”

“Yeah. Right.”

“So, anyway,” he added quickly after catching the discouraged tone in your voice. “I’ll send you the address and let the security know you’re my plus-one.”

“Okay,” you inhaled deeply, “thank you so much. I-I—you have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

Shuffling was heard on the other end – from the sound of it, you assumed Jackson was avoiding a group of people that just walked past him – before he replied, “it’s alright. You can pay me back by getting back together. There might be a million-dollar song on the line here, yeah? He can’t write it if he’s not with you.”

“I—”

“I’ll see you Friday,” Jackson said. He must have known you could never find what to say whenever the topic of Jaebum writing a song about you was brought up. “Don’t overthink this, okay? Jaebum might not show it, but I have no doubt that he’s dying to talk to you, too.”

Friday turned out to be an eventful day. For one, it was your official last day at the gallery – handing in the employee badge that you’ve worn around your neck for the past few years was rather bittersweet: relieving, on the one hand, but also rather glum – but it was also the night of Jaebum’s party. It truly felt like today was going to be the last day of your old life – one last hoorah before you started a new era – and you even debated getting a haircut, to really imprint the change that was coming.

As it turned out, you didn’t have any time for a haircut. You barely had enough time to decide on an outfit before, packing up your phone, wallet, keys, panic, and anxiety, you walked out of the door of your empty apartment and headed downstairs to catch a cab.

The ride to the club wasn’t very long, so you didn’t have enough time to rehearse the words you planned to tell Jaebum one more time, but that didn’t really worry you much. You had a feeling your entire thought process was going to end up in shambles as soon as you saw him, anyway.

Once the cab stopped and you stepped into a busy street, it took you a good minute to find Jackson – if he wasn’t waving his hand like a madman, you’d have probably missed him – and then another minute to actually reach him as the people, crowding outside of the club, were very intent on pulling you to the back of the line.

“Hi, sorry there’s such a commotion here,” Jackson said once you finally made it to the door. “I’ve told them it wouldn’t be smart to throw a private party at a club that already goes over capacity every Friday night as it is but no one ever listens to me. Should we go in?”

You nodded, too out of breath to actually respond, and followed him inside. The security guard merely glanced at you before nodding and allowing you two to enter – Jackson, clearly, was a familiar face – and, before you could even prepare yourself properly, you were suddenly listening to the same loud, organ-clenching EDM song that Jaebum was probably listening to.

“Alright,” Jackson stated—and then repeated himself louder when you squinted your eyes as if that could help you hear him better. “Jaebum is upstairs. He got here first and I told him to wait for me in the lounge.”

“Okay—”

You had already turned towards the staircase at the back of the club but Jackson grabbed your hand. “Ah, hold on—you need a drink before you go see him. Let’s take a quick detour to the bar, yeah?”

You had to admit, that wasn’t such a bad idea, so you allowed him to pull you towards the bar where a few girls were already dancing on the bartop lit up by dozens of neon-LED lights. The atmosphere in the club was buzzing with life and it was so electrifying, you were surprised to find yourself loosening up even before you had your first drink.

Jackson took the liberty of ordering while you were too busy watching the captivating dance moves of one of the bartop girls – for someone who seemed as drunk as she was, her movements were surprisingly smooth and, honestly, rather captivating.

“I’m sorry if that’s out of line for me to say,” Jackson spoke, distracting your attention, “but you look different. How have you been doing?”

“Oh. I’m—well, I’ve been trying to move on from the things that made my life miserable,” you said but weren’t sure how much he heard because, just as you started to speak, the DJ changed the song, and the gaggle of young-adults next to you proceeded to screech at the top of their lungs. “Uh, unfortunately, I can’t move on from my own self, so I’ve been trying to make a change in my life instead. I-I guess that might be why I look different.”

“That’s good!” Jackson nodded enthusiastically, not hearing all that you’ve said but definitely catching the most important parts. “I didn’t say it was a bad different. What have you changed so far?”

“I’ve, uh—” once again, you got interrupted by the bartender bringing you and Jackson the drinks he’d ordered, “I’ve quit my job.”

Jackson’s enthusiastic smile suddenly faltered, “oh, shit. You did? What are you doing now?”

“Nothing, really. Searching for a new one,” you replied with a small shrug. “Something behind the stage, preferably. I’ve had enough customer service experience to last me a lifetime.”

He chuckled at this, picking up his drink and encouraging you to do the same. Somehow, you’ve never tried rum before but, after just a sip of the Cuba Libre in your hand, you couldn’t really tell why. It tasted far more like coke than rum and yet you could still feel the buzzing effects of the alcohol as it entered your bloodstream.

“Yeah, I suppose galleries don’t get the best specimen when it comes to clients,” Jackson said once he emptied his glass. “What about your exhibition?”

“Oh,” you took a final sip and put the empty glass down – carefully, so the girl dancing on the bartop nearby wouldn’t accidentally kick it over, “that’s not happening. I’ve said some pretty fancy words to Jiho the last time I saw him, so it’s over. I’m not really hosting one anymore.”

Jackson noted that you didn’t look overly upset about that – in fact, he was sure he saw you smile when you mentioned the last conversation with Jiho you’ve had – but he’s been around enough artists to know how deep the wounds inflicted by a crushed dream could be.

“Well, why don’t you come to me?” he offered.

You frowned, unsure what he meant. “What?”

“To work, I mean,” he explained. “You already know how big my family is on art. We’ve been investing in artists that aren’t just musicians. Actually, my very first job was modeling, did I ever tell you that? My parents hosted this whole photoshoot for me when I was, probably, two months old? The photographer said I was a star.”

You laughed. “Oh, wow, over twenty years in the modeling industry and you’re not even thirty. That’s impressive.”

“I know, right?” he played along, smirking. “But, anyway—why don’t you think about it? Not modeling, I mean. Photography. My family—they’re nice people. We look out for each other and it’s always art that comes first for us.”

It felt like a rather witty—and subtle, no doubt—way to chastise you for choosing to work with someone who thought of publicity before thinking of the art, and you felt your face heat up as you looked away from him.

“T-that’s good,” you commented awkwardly, not having expected to get scolded—yet again—on your decisions by someone who wasn’t Jaebum. You’d prepared yourself for his opinion only. “That’s a great attitude.”

“It is. I think so, too,” Jackson said, not noticing—or, choosing not to notice—your embarrassed state. “And you’re a talented artist. I understand that your mind is probably elsewhere right now—”

“Yeah,” you stretched nervously, “sort of.”

“—but do know that your dream isn’t entirely hopeless, okay?” he finished. “If you want something enough, there will always be a way to make it happen. I’m here for you.”

You’ve heard these words before but they seemed to have a different meaning tonight. Perhaps because you finally realized what the thing you wanted more than anything was.

“Thank you, Jackson,” you said, the thoughts of Jaebum being nearby doing the work that the rum and coke didn’t. You felt positively intoxicated already. “Seriously, I—I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jackson waved his hand and then helped you stand from the bar stool as soon as he realized your mind could only be distracted from Jaebum for so long. “Now go. Talk to him.”

You exhaled shakily, closing your eyes for a few moments to mentally prepare yourself. “Right. I’m going.”

“Everything will be okay,” Jackson reminded you, “as long as you focus on what’s really important.”

You nodded one last time and then allowed his warm smile to push you towards the stairs, leading up to the VIP lounge where Jaebum thought he was waiting for Jackson.

With each step that you took, coming closer and closer to seeing him, you kept thinking about what so many people have said to you the past few weeks – if you wanted something enough, you could find a way to make it happen. They’ve all been talking about your ambitions in life – the exhibitions and the career as a photographer – but, the truth was, those were the things you’d have liked to have but they weren’t exactly the things that you wanted.

What you wanted the most in life – with ten more steps separating you from Jaebum – was to have a purpose. To have it and not to lose it. And you knew what the purpose of life was because you had it found it way before you met Jiho or even started to think about hosting any exhibitions.

Love.

As corny and cliché as it was, that was it. Everyone knew it but they liked to pretend that they didn’t. They searched for something else – money, work, children – but, at the end of the day, it always came down to love. The strongest emotion a living creature was able to feel, so much stronger and all-consuming than any shape or form of anger or hatred.

Knocking on the door and waiting, you were able to understand that love might have started wars but love ended them, too. Love was the beginning and love was the end. And – as you watched Jaebum’s red eyes appear behind the black door of the private lounge room – you knew you didn’t want your love to end. You knew you couldn’t lose your purpose in life.

“Jaebum,” you exhaled, the loud music from the club downstairs almost drowning out your voice. He stopped short at the sight of you. You couldn’t see it but, inside of his chest, a heart that seemed to freeze when he left your shared apartment, was slowly beginning to beat again. “Can we talk?”

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water--gang · 3 years

Note

HI LOVE IM HERE SORRY IM LATE I HAD A WEEK IF U KNOW WHAT I MEAN

LOOK ITS A HUG

LOVE YOU ALSO I HAVE ICE CREAM

Only QUALITY in this house my sweet look how Epic and Zesty these look I low key want ice cream 🥺

Also NO WORRIES ON A LATE REPLY I fully understand that ur busy and stressed, I don’t have a problem with that!!

I’m sorry life hasn’t been treating u well :(( I hope the upcoming holidays will do their part in letting you breathe and feel better!! If nothing in particular has made u smile, that’s fine!! Though it might make you feel better to start paying attention to those things, as scarce as they might be. Maybe they’ll help cheer you up at some point! I know you made me smile a lot while I was in the UK and it really helped keep me going a lot!! You matter and I’m sure that you’ll find reasons to smile soon! You better or life can catch these hands fr I’m smol and as intimidating as a swarm of butterflies bUT that shan’t stop me and it WONT

and please make sure to get rested!!! Again I hope the break will give you more opportunities for sleep and I understand how tough that can be but I’ll cheer for you anyway!

And bc you asked, I’m doing okay! My assessments got a new due date for June so I have the weeks before the second semester to get some rest myself, and my cats bc I got CATS AND THEYRE AMAZING AND I LOVE THEM have been a big comfort to me!! I love them so muc 😭😭 and while my mental health is still on the brink, I’m in a better place now- so that’s good!! I’m seeing a counselor too now! I have a session tomorrow actually!! I got him to listen to seventeen dude I can’t he’s like in his 50’s right and I got him to listen to kpop he’s so wholesome 😭

BUT THIS IS ABOUT U

I saw ur post! Thank you for taking care in letting me know! I also won’t judge u if u like dreamsmp if that’s what ur referring too, I don’t watch it myself but I can definitely see how funny it is, I love watching quackity lmao he’s in it I think lmao

I’ve been referring to you as they/them since i saw ur bio (i talk about u to my two irl friends lmao) but thank you for letting me know!! I’m happy to use ur preferred pronouns, and if they change for any reason just lemme know and I’ll respect that too!!

LOVE YOU, I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY AND THAT YOU’LL GET BETTER SOON ❤️❤️❤️ YOU DESERVE TO FEEL BETTER AND TO GET GOOD THINGS IN LIVE LOVE, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF (you’ve been doing an amazing job!! Please keep it up I’m really proud of you!!) 💖💖💖

hey you never have to apologize for that yea? cause i mean look at me, i take fucken ages to respond

thank you for the hug, love!! consider me sending two right back:)) <3

ahhahaha daaaamn Three ice creams? what did I do to deserve so many

heh you say that yet you yourself apologize, let's just make a deal to not apologize for any of our late replies okay? cause we both can be stressed and busy and tired and who knows what and that's fine

i don't remember what holidays you meant but I'll go ahead and assume i was semi okay during those and then went right back to being fucked jdnfnd thank you tho:')

aww... i did? really? that's... that's really sweet. that makes me happy:') I'm glad i could do that

ahhahahaha looks like life has some hands incoming! and hey maybe life is afraid of insects and such in which case a swarm of butterflies would be terrifying, especially when it's coming straight at ya

awwwww you got cats!!!! what are their names??? awhh I'm glad you have them:'))

ohh glad to hear that! i hope your sessions have been going well and you've converted him into a proper kpop stan ahahah no but really i hope they're helping and you've managed to stay in a good place cause that's the least you deserve after enduring so much shit

you're welcome! you're my friend so I wanted you to know, yea hahah. aw what you've been talking about me to your friends??? ..... i don't know why that makes me so soft, i just.... didn't think anyone would consider me interesting enough to talk to other people about ahah thank you:') also i didn't think anyone would notice the change in my bio so the fact that you did and have been referring to me as such makes me really happy:'))) thank you so much, thank you for being so supportive and accepting <3 (fun fact, i got a haircut hehe i went from long hair to super short and honestly it feels so much more like me:') )

yep! i was in fact referring to the dream smp hahah, I'm... I'm deep in the dsmp hole jdnxkd all i know is sleep eat and watch dsmp ahahhah it's like really angsty as well tho, not just funny, i have cried multiple times watching it:)) ah yess quackity is one of the members! i recently watched his outlast vods

:')

can I just give you a big ol'

heart, since i can't give you a hug, i am very upset it can't get bigger but we gotta make do with what we got, just imagine it's much much bigger altho that wouldn't capture all my appreciation and love anyway

unfortunately I'm bad with words so just: thank you. love you. i care about you and i hope you're doing well or will be soon. i appreciate every word you tell me. thank you so much. take care of yourself as well <3 thank you

— admin

#also #ehehehe #if you'd like to keep in touch better #i uhhh have a discord:)#so tell me if you'd like to add me and maybe talk more:))#i might take a while to respond on there as well sometimes but it will be faster than on here for sure #admin posts #ask #howdoyoudocreative

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linssikeittomies · 4 years

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I Won’t Be Your Donkeyskin - A Banana Fish WIP

So about a 100 years ago I was talking with my friend @freakyfeline about fairytale AUs and we were laughing about how Yue Lung would be just the bitchiest princess. I originally imagined a Donkeyskin story with a Banana Fish spin, but it ended up being a Donkeyskin-inspired Canon Divergence - Yue Lung runs from his family and ends up hiding with Sing’s family, disguised as a girl. This is the only finished scene I ever wrote for it, and I quite like it.

Yue Lung thought back to the cashier’s words. Everyone’s heard by now. The prettiest hair I’ve ever seen. Boys will be fighting over you in a few years. He toyed with a strand, deep in irritated thought. Staying this close to the clan’s area of influence was a lot riskier than he liked, but it was the best he could manage for now. Biting his lip, he cursed that he hadn’t known how important identification documents were in the outside world. Who would’ve thought he couldn’t be a real person without some piece of paper?

Fussing with a strand of hair, he tried to weigh his options – ideally he would find a place on the other side of the country, even abroad. Canada, at least, but preferably Asia, maybe Mongolia – not Hong Kong, where the Lees were a considerable presence. But he had no money, and he could only get so far walking. And it was still cold enough to freeze to death in the night without even getting out of New York City first. Stealing would solve a part of that problem, but where could he find enough money? Pickpocketing might net him some loose change and maybe a few phones he’d need to sell for cheap, saving up that way would take too much time, and he was likely he’d get caught sooner rather than later anyway, since he had zero practice. The house was a no-go as well, Mrs. Sun didn’t keep a lot of money in the house, partly because they didn’t have much to save to begin with, and Yue Lung wasn’t rotten enough to steal from his saviors anyway. Maybe if they were filthy rich, and their finances wouldn’t be affected by a few thousand dollars going missing, but it still wouldn’t leave a good taste in his mouth.There was always the option of finding work, but who would hire a 11-year-old, who apparently didn’t exist because he had no ID? He could hardly ask Mrs. Sun money for helping around the house. He didn’t know how to do anything, except grow plants. He could have maybe sold medicinal herbs and such, had he a place to grow them and the knowledge how to use them – his education hadn’t yet included much but the most basic poisons. He also had a lot to learn about acupuncture, too. What else was there? If he couldn’t steal, and he couldn’t work, what else was left? Twisting and twirling the strand, twitching his foot, gnawing his teeth, there had to be something he could do! Just anything to run, or keep hiding, think! Think! Considering how much Mrs. Sun was gossiping about her newest “daughter” it was safe to assume Yue Lung’s brothers would soon hear about this mysterious girl who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, running from an abusive family, who just so happened to bear the name of the former patriarch’s deceased concubine! Fuck, what a fucking idiot a person can be! Using his mom’s name! Yue Lung might not have been able to do anything about Mrs. Sun’s benign airheadedness but he should’ve known better than be self-sabotaging dumbass! Okay, okay, what’s done is done, what he needed now was damage control. So, to keep running Yue Lung needed money, and he couldn’t get it yet. Which left hiding. Mrs. Sun was his saftest bet for now, and however talkative she might have been, Yue Lung was dependent on her goodwill and criticizing her would hardly endear Yue Lung to her. It had to be accepted that Dai Yu would be a known face around town, though it would be nice if it would attract less attention. Wasn’t there something he could do about that? He couldn’t change his face, apart from scarring it, and that would only make him more noticeable. It would take several years before he could grow a moustache or a beard, and with his genes it was likely to be a bust anyway. Unless he wanted to make a beard toupee out of his hair, and what would look more natural on a preteen than a hairbeard? One that was tangled to death from nervous fiddling. The strand around his fingers was getting knotted to the point of needing scissors to be solved. Wasn’t there anything Yue Lung could do to stay hidden? The strand twirled, frayed and split. ...The hair had to go. It was too noticeable. Having it shorter wouldn’t stop anyone from recognizing him, but it would cut the number of looks thrown his way. That was the key – stay low, stay humble, stay dull. Under any circumstances, do not attract unnecessary attention. Have average looks, have average manners, have average intelligence, be an all-around average girl and soon enough no one would care if you live or die! Blend in well enough and you might as well not exist. Mrs. Sun trimmed her own and her children’s hair, Yue Lung had seen the hair scissors in the bathroom. They were kept in a sleeve that looked homemade, and at least a decade old. One could only hope the scissors themselves were newer than that, or at least kept sharp – no such luck. Most things in the household were long past their glory days, full of holes or chips and dull as a cloudy day or a newborn’s teeth. The unsteady shhhk of the dull scissors trying to cut through a thin strand and Yue Lung’s frustrated grunts must have been what eventually caught Mrs. Sun’s curiosity. “Heavens! Dear girl, what on Earth are you doing?” Yue Lung thought the answer should have been clear as day, but he answered anyway. Mrs. Sun shook her head in disbelief and affectionate frustration. But, since the damage had been done, she demanded to even out the cut. “Aiya girl, you should have to come me in the first place!” she nagged as she snipped. “I would have cut it. I don’t understand why you would want to, your hair is so beautiful, Dai Yu.” Feeling that Mrs. Sun wouldn’t quit until Yue Lung gave some excuse to his haircut, he decided to play on a bit of admiration. He had found that often a transparent flattery would fall flat and have the opposite effect desired, and it was better to be less direct about the approach. It tended to work best with a bashful admission. “I wanted it to be like yours”, he mumbled quietly, affecting an embarrassed tone. It worked exactly how he had wished it to – Mrs. Sun cooed at him, calling him a silly girl but leaving it at that. Once she was content with Yue Lung’s new haircut, she called her sons to take a look. Yue Lung twirled around, supposedly pleased and proud. Yen Tai just said it looked fine and left like the moody teenager he was, but Soo Ling stayed quiet and thoughtful. Yue Lung thought he might have caught the longing look he had thrown at the long strands abandoned on the floor. He was weirdly silent for a few seconds, before saying “Dai Yu looks nicer with short hair.” Some kind of dam broke inside Yue Lung. He looked at the arm-long strands strewn about, curling around each other in embraces soon to be broken to clean up the remains of a burial. Dignity shed, thrown aside to further the selfish ends of another. A once treasured possession turned to trash. “How could you say that?” said Yue Lung, throat constricting, and his voice wasn’t any easier to mask than the tears falling to the floor. With a sharp inhale he tried to mask as anger, fully in vain, he broke down with a sorry mewl. “Aiya, it’s okay, it’s okay! It really looks nice on you!” Mrs. Sun tried to comfort. “Dai Yu, it’s alright. You look so pretty with your new hair! It makes you look so much softer!” Soo Ling ran to the kitchen and came back a little while later with a few almond cookies in hand. He offered them to Yue Lung, while Mrs. Sun still petted his back and muttered Aiya, poor girl, and I knew you would regret it. “Dai Yu, don’t cry. It’s just hair.” Just hair? Of course a boy would think it was just hair. He jerked at the look Yue Lung threw at him, like it had physically stung him. The Dai Yu he knew was distant and stiff, even cold, but always reserved, so he wasn’t prepared for the concentrated vitriol pouring out of the girl. He hesitated little before wisely fleeing from the girl. All this was hidden from Mrs. Sun, who unknowingly dried the tears of a beast and privately chided her son for being so rude to a crying girl. “Dai Yu, why don’t we gather up this hair and braid it. You can keep it safe until your hair grows back.” Silently, exhausted, Yue Lung nodded slowly. “I’ll do it myself. I’m sure you had something else to do before I disturbed you.” “Oh, it’s no trouble. Go find some pretty ribbon in the –“ “Please let me do it alone.” Mrs. Sun finally understood he needed a moment alone and left to find the ribbon herself. Yue Lung quietly, slowly, gathered the strands together. His neck itched. The short hairs from the last clean-ups had stuck to the skin. The ends of the dead tail of hair were uneven. It was an ugly thing, gathered up from the floor, not bundled together before being cut off. A dead keepsake, a far cry from the real thing, and the pain of it was more pressing than the dear memory. He would give it a proper burial. This one thing would escape the legacy of Lee Hong Lung and gain back some of its dignity in death.

I couldn’t find Sing’s mother’s name, so I decided to call her Sun Ci-Hui. Also I’m currently watching a k-drama called Rookie Historian Goo Hae-Ryung, and the prince is one of my favorite characters ever because he’s so sweet and innocent, and right after finishing an episode I go write calculating bitches like Yue Lung and Ivan:D What can I say, I like variety.

#btw all the characters in rookie historian are impossibly beautiful #and the main character is awesome #go watch it #banana fish #fan fiction #yut-lung lee #sing soo ling #wip scene #WIPtale

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 4 years

Text

roddy plays fire emblem: three houses - prologue

all I know about this game I learned from twitter. I don’t know much of anything about this game. but I’ll tell you what I know about the characters anyway.

I’m only doing characters who I can distinctly recall off the top of my head. I’m not looking up anyone’s names because there are so many characters in this game.

Byleth - the player character. a teacher at this academy, despite not being much older than the oldest students here. game devs are cowards who couldn’t believe that lady Byleth could be Big Sexy in proper armor and instead they gave her fuckin....thigh-highs and lace and a titty window and a belly-button window ma’am your organs are there, you can’t expose that. my disdain for impractical lady armor is outweighed by my desire to play as the girl whenever possible, so like, I’ll play Lady Byleth, but I just won’t be happy about it.

Jeralt - Byleth’s dad? I think it’s Jeralt? There’s some other guy who looks a lot like the guy who I think is Byleth’s dad so I can’t actually tell you if I got the name right. he’s a mercenary. I don’t know why he and his kid are hired at a fuckin....church academy? but they are. he raised Byleth basically as a feral child and he doesn’t even know how old they are? even though his wife died in childbirth and I think he talks about how long ago that was? or something? there’s something about him not knowing how old his own kid is. Dad what the hell.

Rhea - the lady pope of The Church, but not a cool ladypope like Leliana Dragon Age. I saw someone compare her outfit/hair to Ghetsis from Pokemon and I sent that meme to Wolf and Liam asking if they could confirm or deny and they told me that’s an insult to her but Ghetsis is slime of the earth so relatively, we still don’t know. I don’t trust her because I don’t trust quasi-historical-inspired-setting fantasy church leaders, except for Leliana/Vivienne/Cassandra.

Seteth - green hair? all the church people have green hair are they related? is it magic? I think it’s magic, Byleth’s hair is sometimes green. he’s like the Hot Dad but since he’s not your dad you can romance him. I don’t know if I trust his goatee but one of my friends retweets a lot of art of him and I trust her so maybe I trust him? he’s on thin ice.

Flayan? Flayn? Flyann? I’m calling her Flan like the custard but I know there’s a Y in there somewhere right? - more green hair, so a church person I guess. I have no idea how old she is because this is anime and she could be anywhere from 12 to an ancient dragon person because I know this series has some of those. maybe Seteth’s daughter?? I get that vibe??

Sothis - the ancient dragon person who looks like a 12 year old girl. more green hair. I couldn’t tell her and Flan apart for a while.

BLACK EAGLES

why aren’t they the Red Eagles? they’re red. the other two are blue and yellow. who named these guys. what the fuck.

Edelgard - every time I see the pokemon Eldegoss in SwSh I think of her. leader of the BE. controversial. very controversial. doesn’t like the Church. I can handle this, I romanced Anders in my first playthrough of DA2 which was my first time playing any Dragon Age game, controversial and Church-hating is like.... sometimes you just gotta blow up a fantasy church, you know? I get it. even if I don’t end up agreeing with her, like, I get it, I guess. she didn’t always have white hair but something happened. there sure is a lot of magic hair color shit in this game. I think Dmitri is her stepbrother.

Hubert - Edelgard’s right-hand man. vampire jokes for days. I’m gonna cut myself on that edge....the edge of his cheekbones they are Sharp. I don’t buy that this guy is a teenager. I don’t know whether he’s actually tall or people just play that up because it’s funny to draw him Tall and Looming behind Edelgard.

Ferdinand von Aegir - I AM FERDINAND VON AEGIR!!!!!!!!

Dorothea - she’s the opera singer one, right? if I got the name wrong, I’m talking about the pretty opera singer one with the hat that’s kinda like a beret. she’s my favorite because I’m gay and she’s very pretty and looks very sweet. she’s like the only one of the Eagles who’s a commoner I think? I don’t know why she’s here but okay. I like her. I would like to kiss her.

GOLDEN DEER

Claude - that’s not his real name. leader of the GD. he’s an archer and he has a big fuckoff dragon wyvern. his mother is from whatever country this game is set in but his dad isn’t and lots of people are rude and racist to him for it. he seems kinda chill but also suspicious of everyone which honestly I get it. also he might poison people? I trust him and I’m sure he has good reason to do it. I support him.

Hilda - Claude’s right-hand lady. pink hair anime girl with a giant fuckoff axe. I thought I knew more about her than that but nope that’s all I’ve got. has an older brother.

Lorenz - purple haired anime boy. look at his post-timeskip haircut this boy is Gay and there’s nothing anyone can tell me that would change my mind. needs to be smacked with some good ol’ Character Development to grow past being a pretentious noble prick but he’s pretty cool once that happens. one of the artists I follow who turned overnight into a FE3H twitter for like six months is a big Lorenz stan so I think I could be biased toward him already but that’s just How It Be when you’re coming into this via osmosis.

BLUE LIONS

Dmitri - leader of the Blue Lions but everyone calls him a boar. gets absolutely hammered by Bad Times in the timeskip and comes back with an eyepatch and absolutely feral and unhinged. murdered a bunch of people? Dimi You Can’t Just Go Around Murdering People. 30-50 feral hogs in a big fuzzy mantle. very unfortunate that he’s being forced to do Leader Shit and just wasn’t allowed to be chill and relax and get to work through his issues instead of getting more of them and going feral.

Dedue - you cannot convince me that this man is not a 30-year-old father of two. how is he a student. get out of here. you’re wrong and you’re lying. who did these character designs. I think out of almost everyone here, he is the guy who Does Not Deserve All Of This but fate has been a dick to him. everyone he loves got murdered by I think Dmitri’s countrymen but now Dedue is Dmitri’s right-hand-man which I do not understand. He deserves better both in-game and also from the writers because they just kind of write him out post-timeskip I hear. just free this man from whatever the fuck is going on in his life and the game. I still don’t believe you that he’s of any age to be a student.

Sylvain - the redhead. childhood friends with Dmitri and someone else but I don’t remember who. The Horny Guy. may just automatically be recruited by Lady Byleth to their class, betraying his country and his oldest friends because he saw a belly-button window. just y’know. sometimes it be like that.

FELIX - he’s the other childhood friend. I don’t know shit about him.

OTHER STUDENTS WHOSE NAMES I CAN RECALL BUT I DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE AND IT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE YOU CAN RECRUIT ALMOST EVERYONE TO ANYWHERE ELSE

Caspar (artist?), Linhardt, Bernadetta (Bernie, my brain keeps just swapping her and Dorothea around because they both have these long regal names but I don’t think they’re actually anything at all alike), Petra, Leonie, Marianne,

ASHEN WOLVES

they’re not really a house they’re just a bunch of people who live in the fucking basement and I think it’s the church’s fault.

Yuri - the other purple-haired anime boy. got kicked out of war crimes academy somehow. declared himself the leader of the basement people and they were just like “hey sure cool I guess”.

Someone who’s a friend of I think Hilda’s older brother - not even a student or someone who needs to be living in the basement, he’s just down here for tax fraud? debt evasion? again, it be like that.

THE PLOT

matchmaking simulator. Byleth plays matchmaker for all of their students by setting them up into the most healthy friendships/relationships that are as ambiguously gay as the COWARDS writing this game will allow. I know there are a few, but it’s mostly a few Byleth romances, so. that.

also Byleth makes the other professors’ jobs easier by poaching all their students so that they only have to teach like two people while Byleth has everyone in their class. recruit the students by giving them gifts and having tea with them. eat lunch like five times a day trying to hang out with everyone. go fishing. go fishing some more. the game limits your amount of bait per month because otherwise this will be a fishing simulator. I know this specifically because I asked Wolf and Liam if I could just fish infinitely forever and they told me no. I was upset. the day that the game starts is 4/20. I know this because Wolf made a meme about it and that’s what started our long conversation about the game that established nothing.

immediately after everyone graduates, Byleth goes into a fucking coma for five years and wakes up and the five-year reunion is interrupted by a war between the three houses. -rimshot- also there might be some greater threat called the Flame Emperor or some shit but I know fuckall about that. mostly I just know everyone’s despair as they are forced to kill their friends who they didn’t manage to recruit.

I’ve never played a Fire Emblem before and I’ve never known what a tactic is in any RPG I’ve ever played. this is going to be fantastic.

#roddy plays fe3h

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xldsims · 5 years

Photo

It’s been a while, but I’m finally gonna try and catch up!

It’s been a while, so before I start, I’d just like to say:

And an incredibly belated Merry Christmas to everyone :P

So...on with the answers! :D

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@plummiesims asked:

I'm gonna be 100% honest I just found ur blog bc sssvitlans re-blogged ur Altus facial hair and I SCREAMED. I love Dorian Pavus So Much :") thank u im probably gonna add it to my game adhsbd;;;

[R]: Ha, thanks :P Stuff like this makes my day XD

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Anonymous asked:

Will you be updating the male sims clothing override for the new expansions and dlc? The EA version is trash.

[R]: I’ll try my best when I can :) They are trash but unfortunately, the method I’m using to override them just isn’t working as well on newer meshes :(

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Anonymous asked:

Would the drowned out skinblend be compatible with lumia's vanilla skin or are you planning on making another one?

[R]: It should work with it. I use it over his default replacement skins and they work very well!

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Anonymous asked:

Hi, can you do a female kinky tapered cut type style? both short and sorta high?

[R]: It all really just depends on what I’m wanting to do really, unfortunately :P I’m more leaned to making male based cc, so it really just depends on what I’m feeling. I can never give anyone a straight answer [no pun intended XD], unless I was already thinking of doing it :o

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Anonymous asked:

Can you do a higher version of the vindicator?

[R]: It’s an easy enough ask. I could probably lump it in with some other hairs I’m thinking of giving variations ;)

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Anonymous asked:

Hii my brother loves your content sooo much :) thank youu

[R]: I’m glad he does! Thanks so much for the message! :DD

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Anonymous asked:

Where did you go?

[R]: In to the deep and dark shadows of Real Life XD. I went through somethings, had a couple of jobs and am still looking for one tbh. Played a lot of other games and did some other things. Basically just trying to re-focus my life and sort things out. Other would say that I’m “trying to be an adult” XD

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Anonymous asked:

Wait, is your sims really a man or bear or are you a man (not to offend)

[R]: They can be anything you want’em to be XD

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@rocknrollvampire asked:

Hello! I'm a SIMS 4 player (obviously) from France. First, thanx for your amazing CC. I would like to know what poses packages and overlays you use with the sims "modeling" for your CC. Thanx for your answer.

[R]: First of all, thank you! Second, most of them were from @vanderetro and a handful of others I can’t quite remember. A lot of the ones I use now tend to be my own custom made poses however.

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@jonysimmer asked:

Hello, first of all your CC is incredible. Question: Are you planning to do the roll-up version of Ryder's henley?

[R]: I’ve been thinking about doing that, just never got around to it. It’s definitely something I’d plan on doing in the future :)

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Anonymous asked:

Your smooth as fuck v1 hair looks super weird when I zoom out from my sim. It flattens out on the sim's head and looks very strange.

[R]: My earlier did’nt have the complete set of LODs that my newer hairs tend to have. Chances are, when you zoom out, you’re seeing the EA hair I used as an import base in S4Studio :P

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Anonymous asked:

hi! your sim derrick are amazing omg omg, can you share him please? thank you! keep going!

[R]: Yeah, of course! I’m definitely gonna be sharing him at some point. :P

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Anonymous asked:

Is Just outta bed hair bgc?

[R]: I’m probably a little late to respond, but yes, to re-affirm to everyone, it is BGC. In actual-fact, most, if not all the hairs that I’ve released are BGC ;)

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@aeonpixels asked:

Hey XLD ^-^ can you imagine to convert also may the long white gown from Mass Effect 3? "Liara Ashley, Liara and Miranda in Dress, from Mass Effect 3 Citadel DLC by nach77 who has an image on his deviantart. If I could I would try it myself but I dunno how to extract such stuff from other games as a bloody noob.. Just started... =) Since you are experienced in that, I thought I would ask... may there is hope for some female clothes from ME, LOL Thanks a bunch for your coversions and creation ;)

[R]: Probs, at some point. Just depends on where I’m at and where my motivations lie! :)

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Anonymous asked:

Hi. Are you gonna possibly upload ME:A sims as well in the future? I cannot wait, because your work is so perfect. Thank you.

[R]: Yeap, this ask would’ve been from a while back, but I do have post showing the order they’ll be released (including some of my anticipated ME:OT character recreations ;))

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Anonymous asked:

Do you think that you could make a flattop haircut?

[R]: I’ve actually been trying to figure out how to execute this for a while. I feel like someone’s probably done it before though, but I’ll keep trying :P

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@catewithak asked:

Have you ever considered making more MM Dragon Age hairs? Either gender? I love your Altus, and I also hate alpha texture, but that seems to be the only Dragon Age hair CC I can find!

[R]: Yeah, any bioware-based hairs (*in maxis match*) are usually a rarity. I’ll definitely be trying to fill the void of MM DA hairs where and when I can :)

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@mqsnail asked:

Hi Xld, huge lover of all your cc (i can't tell you how grateful i am for male clothe and hair cc. I had a question about one of your hairs, i've been noticing that the procrastinator hair would make certain parts of my sim's head shine as if he had some specs. The shine is noticeable in game and when moving household.

[R]: It’s been a persistent issue for a while, and I’ve unfortunately never been able to pinpoint where it’s coming from. I’ve fixed the spec-maps before on my own files, but to no avail. Unfortunately I can’t provide a fix :( I usually don’t mind it too much at this point since it’s not always that visible.

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@puzzlebot asked:

I'm so sorry to bother you but i've been trying for ages to get a mesh into a full body costume like you did with garrus, but i just can't find any kind of resources that could help me out and even though i'm familiar with blender i'm running into so many hiccups! is there any chance you could point me in the right direction e.g a tutorial that you would personally recommend ?

[R]: Unfortunately I don’t have any tutorials I use (most of my endeavors have been purely trial and error). Just look up some general stuff about blender features and get to know what they do. The main thing to do for getting a mesh into a full body ts4 costume is to append the model to the full body costume mesh file, delete the meshes in the LODs containing it and joining the mesh you want to said LODs --> then import to S4S and enjoy :D

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Anonymous asked:

ngl i check your blog weekly to see if you've posted liam kosta. i'm so eager to have him in my game lol

[R]: I’m still trying to sort out his hair which is a bit twitchy with the way I made it :P Until that’s done, there’s not going to be a Liam Kosta release :/

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@adamleeds1989 asked:

I hope this question isn't disrespectful, but how do you usually create your male sims? Thank you very much and hope you have a nice day!

[R]: No disrepect at all! I look around...the internet. Sometimes I just make one until I like what I see. A lot of the time, I’m just messing with other male sims I’ve already made as bases. No formula, no rules, just kinda do what I want :P

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Anonymous asked:

Hey, I really really love your Garrus Sims version and I'd love to have him in my game, but unfortunately I don't own outdoor retreat. I was just wondering if you ever got around to making him base game friendly. Sorry if this has been asked before.

[R]: My main issue is finding a full base-game costume to place him in to make him BGC. There probably are ones now, but I just haven’t had the time to sift through the files :o

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@oceanmangetsthisbread asked:

Will you link your tali suit soon?

[R]: Tali is a special, special mesh...that won’t cooperate. She still doesn’t have hands atm, so probably not for a while :(

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@applecat90 asked:

Hi! I just fell in love with your male sims. Love your work! I tried to recreate them in my TS4, but they look slightly different than your original sims. I checked the cc list, and even used Tray Importer to know which cc items I needed, but I couldn't make it. I couldn't find proper Upperbody cc(which is used in almost every sims you made, id is 892D886D8DC9550E) and skindetailcreasemouth cc(I think this one is replaced by your DrownedOut skin overlay for later sims) and default skin.

'cause I have complete cc list for one of your sims, Kenney, but still he looks slightly different in tones of face and body(I tried Luumia's smoothish 1,2 DR, vanilla), Hiroki's betterbody). Would you please share the information about which default skin replacement & upperbody did you use to make these sims? Thank you! and thank you for your amazing works.

[R]: Doesn’t seem like they’re anything crucial? Usually the only things that really make my sims different is the skin overlay, and using Drowned Out usually makes the difference. I’d have to give this some thought. It’s possible that the upper body mods have to do with the muscle slider I used? Other than that, there wasn’t all that much else to them :/

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@jdowellc asked:

Hey, I'm not sure if you monitor or update anything still, but I'm a huge fan of the Major hair in particular. I was just wondering if you knew that the Major 2 isn't hat compatible? At least not in my game anyway - newest update. The whole back of the hair disappears when a hat is used which makes them look bald. Just a heads-up I guess (I'm not expecting anything) :)

[R]: Honestly my bad! It’s probably something I forgot to add since I may have posted the file the way it was (’cause I never actually intended on releasing the Major 2 in the first place :P). I’ll try get that rectified when I can.

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@prixetoilesims asked:

Thanks to you, I’ve added Garrus and my Shepard to the sims and now I’m looking for a way to make baby Asari and I blame you 100% for feeding my mass effect addiction SO THANKS NO BUT SRSLY THANK YOU ♥️♥️

[R]: Thanks ♥️♥️ ♥️♥️ XDD I’m feeding my own addiction too, probably worse on my end letting it consume me, but I’m glad other can feed their own addictions as well XD

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Anonymous asked:

Hey I love your content! I always come back to check to see if you upload anything new! XD Willing to donate :) I had a question on how to download your good looking sims? Do you download/install them just like Mods?

[R]: You pretty much extra them for the zips and into your tray files :D That easy! And thanks so much! I’ll definitely try to make an effort when I have time to release some more content. Already got some hairs I could probably drop soon :)

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Anonymous asked:

Finally you resurrected.

[R]: Not quite, but you better believe I’m getting there.

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@eggysimblr asked:

Hi, I just Recently discovered Mass Effect (Finished 1 and soon finishing 2), And I was wondering, will you make some Quarian CC? You know, because Tali'Zorah is my girl...

[R]: Tali’s if friggin’ amazing. I know @bmso85sims‘s been making a few bits of quarian and misc mass effect content as well so I’d check them out. I’ve been struggling myself with converting Quarian content, so it’d be a while before I release anything, let alone Tali unfortunately XD

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@theprodigalbanana asked:

Hi, I just wanted to thank you again for getting me into the series and for the ME sims , especially John and Kaidan. I'm going to play these two to fill the void that ME left in my heart. They are so sweet together and your short stories encapsulates that perfectly. I couldn't access some of them so I was wondering if they are a WIP. I was also wondering if sth bad would happen if I install John and Kaidan as it says that they are outdated. I love your work and thanks for getting me into ME :D

[R]: Don’t worry, I’ve been filling that same void for years XD And no, nothing bad’ll happen, it’s just that I have newer edits of them these days (and I there’s always something about them that needs tweaking). I’m also secretly an advocate for Bioware [jk, but still XD].

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@metalfenix asked:

I'm glad you're fine, xalder. Take it easy and concentrate on your job quest. (Even though I would be a liar if I say I didn't wanted to ask you about the suspenders lol).

[R]: I know right, me and those goddamn suspenders? I might as well release them as is honestly. I’ve been okay with how they look for ages, but quite frankly, they’re a bit hit and miss -- but if you seem to be good with them, there’s no reason why I can’t release them :P

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Anonymous asked:

Hello I was wondering if I can have the tray files to two of your goodlooking Sims please? :)

[R]: Any sims specifically being requested? ;P

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@shinyobservationhottub asked:

Im having a visual glitch with the Scimitar hair. It looks like light streaks peering through the head when zoomed out at a certain distance. The hair looks amazing so I still want to use it, but wanted to come drop this by.

[R]: Those are some strange and rather elusive specularish[?] issues that don’t actually seem to be on the specular maps in the hairs. I still don’t have a clue how to fix it, and it personally hasn’t bothered me too much so I’ve kinda just grown to live and let live (y’know, until there’s some fix for it :P)

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Anonymous asked:

Hey, when will you upload tali's suit?

[R]: May be, sometime...when her hands aren’t totally screwed up :P

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@volundrromu asked:

Hi!I really liked your character - Tali'zorah. Can I download it?

[R]: Now this is honestly such a popular question! Please refer to the above ask. :P

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Anonymous asked:

Jump from 1k to 4k? Are you computer fine?

[R]: I have a pretty high-end gaming PC, so it handles like smooth butter. :P

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Anonymous asked:

Hi there, I was just wondering if you were going to put the kaidan's email mod back up? thank you!

[R]: I’m going to be bumping this up in priority to upload, don’t worry :P I haven’t actually released it at all yet, since the original files are on my laptop that I used to game on. Will be tweaking the files for both male and gender-neutral references in the message so no one gets left out :P

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Anonymous asked:

Can you make a female version of your loin cloth that you currently have for male sims?

[R]: An easy enough ask too :P Just depends on where my priorities lie, but it’s definitely something I could put on my to-do list. I think @quiddity-jones might have made a conversion of it -- I could probably get her to upload it :)

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Anonymous asked:

Can you reupload the male loincloth files?

[R]: Yes! It’s a goddamn crime that tumblr removed it.

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@heyisfurwhoresez asked:

Please repost the oiled up skin overlay!

[R]: I’m definitely making that a priority!

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Anonymous asked:

Does Garrus still require Outdoor Retreat?

[R]: Unfortunately, at the moment, yes :(

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@limefiend asked:

Were your overlays wiped out with the nsfw ban? do you still have them up somewhere else, or are they like gone? post/139654327414, post/149505614209, and post/155480567079 are mia now.

[R]: Looks like there’s a good 10-20% of my original posts (not just CC) that got wiped out in the stupid-ass nsfw ban. I’ll definitely get to reposting them soon and rewiring the download links. They’re still on simfileshare, I’ll just need to be making the necessary fixes for the links. :)

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@cejeubeu asked:

Hi there. I just came across your tumblr today and saw some of your uploaded sims. I've downloaded them, but I wanted to send some potential suggestions, primarily one: could you upload the CC in a ZIP containing the tray files for the sim? I've seen a few uploaders do this and it's not only convenient but it's much better than linking the sources, since often times the source can move to a different page or the link given simply may not work anymore, as if the case for some of your pages linked

[R]: For my mass effect sims, the content is usually separated so users can dl the bits they want. Other sims I’ve uploaded usually don’t have a lot of CC associated with them, and are usually the same bits I use across the board, so you only need to download them once from any of the links of my releases. Plus breaking up the downloads into smaller files is easier on my near-dial-up-ass adsl internet speeds (I don’t get fiber where I am since our local district council isn’t looking to update our zone until the mid 2020s).

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@jonysimmer asked:

Hi, are you planning to do the pants that everybody uses in ME Andromeda? Because I converted it but... looks weird. BTW: I love your Tumblr!!

[R]: I’ve been trying to make the textures for it, so I’ll definitely be working on it on the side. It was one of the things setting me back from releasing my Andromeda sims. Also, thanks XDD

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Anonymous asked:

Hey there, I wanted to download the Dorian's moustache cc but it's removed, was wondering if you could reupload it or something. Please & Thank You

[R]: I don’t even know how that was explicit content, there was literally just a picture of his face XD Tumblr pls. I’ll get the links up as soon as I can :)

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Anonymous asked:

Can you please post an updated download for the all oiled up overlay? It disappeared from my game a few days ago and I truly miss it as I'm sure others do as well. <3

[R]: My game’s not quite up-to-date so I don’t know what exactly the problem is so I’ll definitely have to look into it. Most updates shouldn’t be breaking something

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Anonymous asked:

The URL’s no longer work for the misc skin overlays ☹️

[R]: Thanks to tumblr’s tyrannical nsfw purge, I’m gonna have to repost, so they’ll be up soon again, dw :)

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Anonymous asked:

Hey I'd really love to use All Oiled Up if you could repost that <3

[R]: Definitely, it’s been asked quite frequently so it’ll be high up on my tumblr to-do-list :P

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#xld #xldsims #xalder #ask #answer ask-a-thon #im all caught up now at least :P #happy new year #2019 #guys!

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onewhoturns · 5 years

Note

May I request Jacob Frye for the Niche ask please?

a song that reminds me of them

Ever since that one post that said Jacob would be a guy getting a whole bar into some karaoke and mentioned The Kaiser Chiefs’ Ruby I have to say that one. Not necessarily for lyrics at all, just cause I can’t not think of that post. Also, Tighten Up by the Black Keys gives me Jacob vibes, for attitude alone. And all the trailer songs too, of course.

what they smell like

Hm… do I go poetic or realistic? Let’s go mostly realistic, with a poetic sheen to cover the realities of the kinda gross Victorian era. Sweat (unavoidable). Leather. Metal and gunpowder. Probably blood. A bit of coal smoke. And since I’m a sucker for Old Spice (I really am, I like it so much I buy it for myself, and you don’t even want to hear the stupid shit I did because of that scent when I was younger) maybe a bit of that. You can look up the scent notes for yourself, I’ll just sound pretentious if I list them XD

an otp

>Lizzie/Jacob.

a notp

I’m fine with other people shipping Rothfrye, but it gives me serious squicks. I’m actually considering blacklisting it just cause it’s becoming like a real trigger. Wasn’t so bad at first but the more I see Roth the more he reminds me of personal trauma and it’s not pleasant. =/ Even writing this gives me gross vibes.

favorite platonic/familial relationships

Platonic Freddy/Jacob (tho tbh I like to think Freddy is maybe crushing sometimes XD), Evie and Jacob of course, Ned and Jacob brotp. I still haven’t seen the ‘a few years down the line, badass Clara O’Dea’ brot3 that girl deserves, once she’s a proper kingpin in her own right.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with

Uhhhh I see a lot of reblogged selfship things and lately the ‘Jacob finds out his S/O is pregnant’ things I’ve disagreed with. To me he’d totally balk at the idea of being a dad. He’s probably pretty great with kids over a certain age, and has no qualms being the cool uncle, but the idea of something small and delicate like a baby – and more importantly the title of father – would really freak him out at first. I’m trying to remember the term we talked about in my adolescent and adult dev class that had to do with people’s reasons for wanting or not wanting kids, and one of them has to do with (basically, iirc) being worried about being a bad parent, or feeling like you won’t raise a child well. I think that’s Jacob’s thing. I think it would take some self-reflection, consideration, and determination to overcome that initial anxiety.

the position they sleep in

Even if he goes to sleep in your standard corpse pose, he’s sprawled over everything by morning.

a crossover au i’d love to see them in

I’m so bad at AUs, oml. Maybe like a modern heist caper? With a robin hood angle? (I’m even worse with crossovers, you may have noticed I completely ignored that part)

my favorite outfit they’ve ever worn

Ngl I’m still a huge fan of his starting gear XD I always have him in the victorian legends outfit for gameplay, cause it gives the best effects, but the classic outfit from the trailers is great as well (not that haircut though, ouch).

the ask list in question

#jacob frye #assassin's creed syndicate #assassin's creed #ask #answered #sassenach-on-the-rocks #vanilleeistee #ac syndicate #ac #asked

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x0401x · 6 years

Photo

Mekakucity Talkers: Chapter 21

Shintarou visited a beauty parlor, and is about to be attacked by the hairdresser’s quick-paced talk!? He looks for help in the chatroom, but would he ever...!?

← Previous || Index || Next →

(T/N: Had to adapt the summary. It actually says “machine gun talk”, which means when a person keeps coming up with subjects or sentences so fast that people assossiate it with the rapid-fire shooting of machine guns. It doesn’t translate too well in English, so I changed it.)

Mekakushi-dan Chatroom

Shintarou: He~y. Isn’t there anyone here? I seek urgent support. It’s an emergency.

Hibiya: What is it? A critical situation?

Shintarou: Aah! If it isn’t Hibiya. Were you able to return home just fine?

Hibiya: Thanks to you guys. I was told to stay put at home for a while, though. In the end, a daily life surrounded by convenient tools of civilization sure is comfortable.

Shintarou: That’s good.

Hibiya: Well? What happened today? Some sort of incident?

Shintarou: No, it’s not a big deal.

Hibiya: What’s that ? You said earlier that you were “seeking urgent support”.

Shintarou: Well, I’m in a beauty parlor right now.

Hibiya: B-B-B-Beauty parlor!? Hum!? A beauty parlor from one of those lined-up buildings in the capital!? Not a barber shop but a beauty parlor!?

Shintarou: What? Is it that odd?

Hibiya: That’s not it, y’know!? I, too, have my hair cut by a charismatic hairdresser from a fashionable beauty parlor in the big city, of course!! What about you, Shintarou!?

Shintarou: M-Me!? I-I-I-I-I also am so accostumed to coming here like usual that I’m close to stealing the hairdresser’s technique!!

Hibiya: ......

Shintarou: ......

Hibiya: This is kinda vain, huh...

Shintarou: Yeah... Let’s stop with this lame vanity competition already... I’ll be frank. I, in truth... actually... am a NEET. I normally cut my hair myself.

Hibiya: Shintarou... Sorry, I made you say these things. I’ll add into that too. I have something I need to be frank about as well.

Shintarou: Sure. Let’s hear it.

Hibiya: To tell the truth, I’m a countryside boy. The one who always cuts my hair is my mom.

Shintarou: Aah...! You’ve managed to say it...!

Hibiya: Shintarou...!

Shintarou: Today, I happened to be forced by Momo into making a reservation at a beauty parlor. My turn will come up soon, but I don’t know if I can correspond when the hairdresser starts talking to me. Lend me some strength, Hibiya!

Hibiya: I have no idea whether I can or not give advice, but I’ll support you with all I’ve got!

Shintarou: That’s reassuring! Oh! My turn has finally come...!

Hibiya: Do your best, Shintarou!

Shintarou: Problem number 1 just happened. “What kind of hairstyle will you want today?” has come my way!

Hibiya: That’s the first difficulty, huh. The key is how to reply in a casual manner!

Shintarou: I made several guesses today when I was coming to the parlor. “You choose”. That’s the only possible option!

Hibiya: Great...! It’s a reply that is simple but gives off a feeling that you’re used to it!

Shintarou: H-Hey, wait a moment. An attack! “What is the specification?” has come my way!

Hibiya: Say what!? Even though you’re leaving it to them including that, too...!

Shintarou: Dammit... What should I do...?

Hibiya: Calm down, Shintarou. You should respond without covering anything up as much as you can or you’ll be suspected. The other person is a professional. You gotta think carefully.

Shintarou: Aah, true. In a situation like this... “Something with a suitably shapely feeling to it”. I’ll go with that!

Hibiya: Go~! Shintarou~! Did you say it? How’d it go?

Shintarou: Somehow... I was told something along the lines of “eh?” and asked back a lot of questions. In the end, I said, “anyhow, something with a neat impression”. They started cutting.

Hibiya: Were you cautious with your way of talking!? Did you speak proper and clearly!?

Shintarou: Obviously! I paid meticuous attention and even gave an uplifting smile! They corresponded with a super sour smile!

Hibiya: W-Well, but they started cutting it without problems, right? Now you just have to wait until they finish.

Shintarou: How naïve, Hibiya. We already have problem number 2. “What’s your profession?” was dropped on me.

Hibiya: Eh!? Shi-Shintarou, what did you reply!?

Shintarou: I answered, “It’s a job related to security”.

Hibiya: Hm? “Security”? Why?

Shintarou: You might not understand this, but it’s been passed down since distant, ancient times. Guys like us have to say that.

Hibiya: S-Seriously!?

Shintarou: They asked, “Are you a student?”. If I carelessly answer “yes”, my faults will show. They’re expecting a composed reply here. We gotta converge the subject as smartly as possible without getting deep into the conversation. Memorize that.

Hibiya: I’ll be on obligatory education for a while, so I think that isn’t a problem for me, but I’ll remember this for a what-if case.

Shintarou: Still, ever since the last question, they haven’t spoken to me anymore. I heard that a beauty parlor is a battlefield where quick-paced talk is widespread, but the hairdresser isn’t even trying to meet my gaze.

Hibiya: Doesn’t that mean they’re concentrating on the haircut?

Shintarou: Aah. Is that it...? My smart retort brought about the aura of an adult man that doesn’t enjoy chit-chat?

Hibiya: True. I wonder if it’s because you’re having your hair cut at a beauty parlor, but your aloof texts in the chatroom are also looking more adult-like than usual.

Shintarou: Stahp. Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Well, when you go to a beauty parlor yourself, you use this as reference.

Hibiya: I will! I learned a lot today. Thanks, Shintarou.

Shintarou: Yeah. Sorry for using your time. I’ll wait at ease until they finish the cut.

Ten minutes later...

Shintarou: Hibiya, are you here? He~y. Isn’t there anyone around? It’s a critical situation. I threw some interjections to show I was paying attention by the time my hair was finishing being cut, and ended up making a reservation in an esthetics salon. If this goes on, I’ll end up becoming beautiful. Please tell me a smart way to cancel the reservation. Somebody

#kagerou project #kagepro #mekakucity actors #kisaragi shintaro #amamiya hibiya #kisaragi shintarou #mekakucity talkers #kagerou daze #kagerou days #my translation

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life-unintended · 6 years

Text

The “film look” in digital - what I’ve learned so far

Let me start this article by addressing the elephant in the room: if you want a real authentic film look, shoot film! There’s just no way around that, no matter how close you can get with digital these days, there’s something about film that digital just can’t touch. I’ve been shooting film sporadically over the last couple of years and I still get a big ol’ smile on my face when I get the scans back from the lab, it’s a very different kind of reward than the immediacy of digital. Plus, the experience of shooting film has been extremely helpful for my digital photography - shooting with an old film camera forces you to slow down, learn the basics of the exposure triangle and focus on composition, as opposed to navigating through menus and letting the camera decide all of the settings for you.

My trusted Canon A1 ready for summer vacations

But of course there are a large number of practical reasons for shooting digital, and at least for my needs and reality shooting film exclusively is just not an option. I shoot digital 95% of the time, but I always strive to make my photos look as “organic” and close to film as possible, because that’s the aesthetic I like the most.

For the purpose of writing this article I’ve questioned myself where does my fascination with film come from, and I guess it’s probably due to the fact that all of my childhood and teenage memories where shot on film. When I think about film I think about long summer vacations, family get-togethers and embarrassing haircuts - in other words, instant nostalgia! And that’s the kind of warm-fuzzy feelings that I want to associate with my photos, so basically ever since I got my first mirrorless camera back in 2015 that has always been my reference.

The first roll of film I ever shot when I was around 10, with a tiny plastic 110mm film camera

Over the course of these last 3 years trying to emulate film I’ve tried dozens of different presets for Lightroom, some of them really good, but quickly discovered that these will only get you halfway there. If you apply a film-preset to a perfect digital image file, in most cases you'll end up with a perfect digital image with some vintage tones, but there’s much more to film than that! There are a lot of “imperfections” that come from the limitations imposed by the gear used and the film itself, which have been eliminated in modern digital cameras and just can't be introduced in post-editing.

The best way I’ve found to mimic these imperfections is to actually impose some of those same limitations when shooting digital, so here’s a few tips on how to do that:

1. Use vintage lenses

Modern lens are amazing pieces of technology. Most of them offer perfect corner to corner sharpness, great anti-flare coatings, amazing contrast, you name it. But if you're going for that 70s / 80s consumer film look, that's pretty much the opposite of what you need! Lenses back then where far from the perfection we know today, the consumer photography market was booming and there were a lot of different brands coming up with different designs, new materials, new focusing systems, etc. As a result, each lens had its very particular set of characteristics and quirks (sometimes design flaws, really) that got imprinted into every photo taken and ultimately defined its character. A perfect example of this are the Helios 44M lenses: these Russian copies of the Carl Zeiss Biotar became famous for a design flaw that resulted in a very unusual swirly bokeh. Earlier models displayed this effect very pronouncedly, but as they improved the design in subsequent versions that particular characteristic was lost, and that’s why the earlier models are the most sought after nowadays.

That classic Helios 44M-4 swirly bokeh

The good news is that these old manual lenses are (for the most part) dirt cheap and you can use them on mirrorless cameras with a simple plastic adapter, so you can get that specific look they were known for without any need for Instagram filters or post-processing magic! In my next article I'll go into more detail about these vintage lenses and how to use them.

2. Use manual focus

One of the biggest innovations in photography in the late 70s/early 80s was the invention of autofocus. Before that cameras were limited to manual focus, and even when the first AF systems were introduced to the consumer market they were rudimentary at best. Chances are that if you look at your film photos from that period, half of them will be slightly out of focus (or completely out of focus, depending on the competence of the photographer! ;)) But that’s not a bad thing at all, I feel that in most cases it only adds to the nostalgic feeling and can sometimes create an additional layer of mystery.

The missed focus on this one gives it a timeless feel

So if you want that classic film look, switch to manual focus on your modern digital camera or use an old manual lens. Don't be afraid to miss focus sometimes, this was something that took me quite a while to realize and “accept”, and I only did so thanks to shooting film. Some of my favorite photos shot on film are pretty out of focus!

Blurry? Definitely, but the fact that you can’t distinguish their faces makes this so much more universal

3. Use slow shutter speeds

Another limitation of film is the maximum ISO speed available, or Asa as it was called originally. Nowadays our digital cameras have incredibly high ISO sensitivities, but on film the maximum you get is 3200, though most consumer films are rated at 200 or 400 Asa. This means that to get a proper exposure on film you have to use much lower shutter speeds than on digital to get enough light, and as a result motion blur is highly likely. Personally, I love some blur, as it gives a sense of movement to an otherwise static medium. One of my favorite all time photographers, Anton Corbijn, shot many of the world’s most famous bands and musicians on film using slow-shutter speeds, to get some movement in the frame and that extra grit!

The subway rush - shot on a Huawei P10 smartphone

If you wanna try this out, I would advise to start with 1/30th of a second, look at the results and then adjust as necessary. If you’re shooting in bright sunlight this probably won’t work unless you use a neutral density, but again experimentation in the key.

A little extra tip: smartphones are actually great for this if you turn off the flash, as their small lens aperture and tiny sensor force slower shutter speeds to compensate.

4. Use High-ISOs for authentic film-like grain

This tip is in direct contradiction with the previous one (unless you’re shooting in really low-light), so usually you’ll have to choose between one or the other. It is also a tip specific to the Fuji X series cameras, as I haven’t tested other brands in this particular aspect.

I’m a big fan of grainy photos, it’s one of my favorite things about film. But the technology in digital cameras these days is so good that in most scenarios you’ll get perfectly clean images straight out of the camera. Even though image-editing software has also evolved tremendously in the past few years and can deliver very believable grain simulations, I’ll be the first to admit that it’s not the same as the real deal and it also feels kinda like cheating to be adding fake grain. That’s where the Fuji X-trans sensors come in, in particular their latest iteration X-trans III.

My furry friend shot at ISO 12800

The ACROS film simulation when used with high-ISOs of 6400 and above produces some digital noise that, to my eyes, is very very close to real Black and White film grain - and the best part is that you’re not adding anything fake in post-processing, it’s a real side-effect of ISO just like with real film! So most of the times when I want to shoot in Black & White I’ll use my own Acros custom setting at 12800 ISO and use the SOOC jpegs. This technique also works with color film simulations, but not so well in my opinion.

5. Post-process your photos accordingly

Different films have different characteristics, so it’s important to decide exactly what film look are you going for and learn a bit more about what defines it. Is it a low-contrast or a high-contrast film? saturated or muted? Fine grain or heavy grain? These things will help you understand what you can do in post-processing to get closer to that film look, and most of them are very simple to adjust. Where it gets a bit more complicated is getting the right tones to match the original film stock, but with some investigation and patience it can be done.

Going for that warm Kodak vibe

Of course if you want to save time you can just buy one of the many film presets out there! Like I said in the beginning of this article they will get you close to the original film tones, so if your base digital file already contains some “imperfections” introduced with the techniques above, it’s as close as you’ll get to the real thing. You can also use in-camera film simulation settings to mimic some film types, which I already covered in my previous article.

Can you tell which is which?

These are some of the techniques I’ve learned by trial and error mostly, I hope you’ll find them useful if the film look is your thing too. I can’t stress enough that the best thing you can do is to actually shoot film whenever possible, not only it will be great fun but it will surely improve your digital photography as well.

Let’s end this with a fun little game: can you tell which of the photos below are film and which are digital? No cheating looking in the exif data, I’ll post the results in a couple of days! ;)

10:

#photography #film photography #film #digital photography #vintage lens #slow shutter #grain #grainisgood #post processing #fuji #fujifilm #fujifeed #fujilove #fujixseries #fujifilm x-t20 #fujifilm x100f #canon a1 #canon fd 35mm #helios 44m-4

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