#I'll definitely check out more of your works too but from what I've seen so far you're a great writer too!!!!!

[submalevolentgrace]

Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.

I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?

I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!

okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:

if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.

that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...

context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.

the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).

but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.

a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.

this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.

okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.

but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.

bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!

but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.

and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.

he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.

so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:

"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."

and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.

i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."

you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.

and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.

in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way

and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!

also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.

by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.

but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.

we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."

but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.

i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.

i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.

and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.

so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:

why does she have a prosthesis?

from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?

and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???

i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.

and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:

#prosthesis #prosthetic #disability #ableism

[matrixbearer2024]

Blips In My Routine

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: A slight interlude in the "Get Off My Screen!" Series to keep you guys entertained while I write it's continuation. I apologize that it's taking so long! School's kind of been kicking my ass recently and I've had to focus more on work than my fanfics. Don't worry though, I'll still be writing more Vox content(Lord knows we don't have enough /j) as long as you guys want to see it!

A/N: I love 🥭 Anon's idea and tbh I don't put it beyond Vox to do it either, I'm not sure if this is as good as the other installments but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Btw, reader is in college so she's somewhere in her mid to late twenties. Happy reading!

You glanced at the ticking clock above the whiteboard.

It was just five more minutes before the bell would ring and free you from this boring lecture.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your gaze wandered back to the teacher's PowerPoint.

You hated this subject the most, not even because of the topic itself.

Rather, the professor could be kind of an old-timey asshole.

Thankfully though, it wasn't all that bad.

Not when you had to deal with an equally irritating digital companion anyhow.

Somehow you'd rather take Vox's bullshit over your professor's-

Speaking of, you both had fallen into a somewhat odd routine in the following months.

From greeting each other when you woke up or went to sleep-

To checking up on the other every so often within the day.

Not to mention spilling gossip when anything remotely interesting happened.

Either on his end or yours.

Like that time you saw someone's skirt snag in their locker door and just rip.

You could only snicker at their panic and shame.

The bitch highkey deserved it anyway.

Vox couldn't stop laughing when you eagerly told him all about it.

He knew you could be vicious if you wanted to.

Even if he was aware how much more inherently kind you were compared to the likes of him.

Sometimes the fact you found his companionship worth maintaining-

Or at least tolerable enough to keep-

Genuinely surprised the tech overlord.

Especially because you'd both been communicating for a little over a year by now.

It was nice interacting with someone else that weren't Velvette or Valentino.

Not that he'd ever openly admit to it.

It wasn't like Vox hadn't seen or heard you either, despite the fact he couldn't directly mess with the microphone or camera on your devices.

Your photos and files had more than enough stuff.

You often left him imagining your reactions and voice whenever the both of you chatted.

After all, most of your interactions were practically texting.

Sometimes you even wondered if Vox was constantly bored to end up finding companionship with you.

Or maybe he was lonely, who knows.

You genuinely couldn't be fucked.

He was an interesting guy and that was all that kind of mattered to you at the moment.

Your notepad window popping up snapped you out of that train of thought.

Glancing over at your laptop screen, the small desktop pet Vox gave you merely sat in the corner pointing at the notepad.

Oh it could do angry emotes too-

A slurry of words started pouring into the blank open text window, you figured Vox was probably having another shitty day.

Geez, who would've thought that hell would actually be absolutely crappy?

Well, let's see what he's complaining about this time...

This man was really typing way faster than you could read-

You were able to garner pretty quick what he was bitching about though.

Even if you kind of found the source of his irritation quite childish and kinda stupid.

"It's so dumb! The fact I can only talk to you with this goddamn thing is driving me insane!"

"Aaaand? What's wrong with the notepad? You also have the desktop companion."

You definitely started calling it that only because Vox was getting pissy that you were referring to it as a 'pet'-

"It can only do so much dollface, it's just glorified texting at this point. Besides, the tiny version of me is just an animated emoji keyboard."

"Well you already mess with my software regardless of what I tell you, what's stopping the great 'Technology Overlord' from hacking my camera and microphone?"

"Haha, very funny doll. Don't you think I would've done it already if I could?"

At this point you kinda just wanted to laugh at the whole situation.

Vox, a demon, one who could control electronics to his every whim-

Or so he claims.

Was being pissy about not being able to talk to you properly.

You couldn't tell if that was supposed to be endearing or hilarious.

He always got worked up over the smallest inconveniences.

You saw it as him being just very observant-

But it could also highkey be from his captain control freak tendencies.

"Then just make an app or something, you'll figure it out. Mess with the software settings or whatever."

That was the last message you wrote before the school bell suddenly rang out loud and clear.

You didn't even read his reply before shutting your laptop down and arranging your belongings.

Soon enough, you were the first one out of the classroom and more than ready to go home.

Vox knew you'd shut down your laptop after he got hit with his custom Voxtech screensaver.

Similarly to the wallpaper, he'd changed your screensaver to something more on brand.

While he did take your suggestion into account, a part of him wondered why he didn't bother trying in the first place.

But given the issues with him trying to access the built-in camera and microphone-

Vox felt a little concerned that modifying your devices too much could corrupt them.

That alongside all of your files and the data you had stored.

Wait...

Concern?!

He didn't actually care about your shit did he?

Oh fuck it!

He'll do whatever he wants to!

He was still careful not to really change much, he knows how annoying file corruption is and he didn't want to actually damage your data in case it had stuff you needed.

You weren't surprised that he'd taken your words literally-

You noticed a peculiar looking app appeared on all of your devices when you had arrived home.

That's a really fancy looking V design, was this Vox's doing?

Upon opening the app, you were greeted to a slightly odd looking interface.

It looked kind of like a more... sci-fi-esque styled chat room?

You wanted to say it lowkey looked like an Omegle room-

Before you could really nitpick at the design though, a text notification popped up on your phone.

You had just set everything up too, it seems like it came from the new app.

"Testing, testing. Are you getting this (Y/N)?"

To say you were amazed at what Vox had done was an understatement.

He was able to do so much in just so little time-

Just- how???

Oh, right- you should probably reply to that-

"Yeah yeah, I gotchu."

"Fucking finally! Working around your firewalls and antivirus was an absolute nightmare!"

Aaaaaaaand here came the usual ranting and bitching-

You just threw your phone on the bed and left to take a shower and freshen up while he kept at it.

Vox was actually quite proud he got the app to work.

Especially without affecting the existing system on your computer much.

If anything, it wasn't any different from the games or social media applications that already existed on your computer.

Granted, when he first booted the app to try it- the darn thing kept crashing and glitching.

But that was easily and swiftly dealt with.

Well, after much frustration and screaming but yes- taken care of.

By the time you came back, you saw an animated version of your wallpaper appear windowed in the app.

Right... that was supposed to be his face.

"Hello? (Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

What-

What the fucking FUCK-

Apparently, the thing you thought that was just a gif or an emoticon was actually a livestream of Vox's face.

And that was how he sounded like?

Okay that seemed pretty on brand for a telecasting television now that you think about it-

But how the hell did he manage to do this-

"Vox?! What the hell!"

You yelled out in retaliation, only growing more confused when Vox didn't reply or just kept repeating if you could hear him.

So he couldn't hear you, but he found a way to sort of project himself into your device.

What kind of upside-down thing is this?

Picking up the phone, you quickly used the chat-box to reply.

"I can hear you, but I don't think you can hear me?"

Vox just audibly cursed from what you could guess was frustration, staying silent and presumably typing out a reply.

Just how long had he been trying to fix this problem?

"I can't access your cameras or microphone whatever I do dollface, this was my last resort."

Seeing his live reactions allowed you to notice the genuine frustration and exasperation he had with the situation.

It kind of made you feel a little guilty for just brushing him off all the time now.

You always thought it was quite... old-timey for Vox to want to talk to you face to face.

Hold a "proper" conversation as he put it.

But maybe that was just because he grew that fond of your company.

Geez, what a sap.

"It's fine dude, I'm glad you made a specially designated space for our conversations though. My notes were starting to get cluttered with our conversations stuck in there with my school stuff anyway."

You could swear the small smile you saw on his face made saying all that worth it.

There really wasn't any reason for you two to switch mediums, but the new app wasn't unwelcome.

You were really starting to care more about this dumb TV head.

As you and Vox went back into comfortable regular conversation, you found solace as both you and your companion once again fell back into the odd routine you grew used to.

Come morning however, you were seriously reconsidering giving Vox the idea about making that custom application.

It was a stupidly large can of worms that you didn't even realize existed-

Notification after notification, you wondered just how much time the technology demon had on his hands to constantly bother you.

"Vox, I know you're happy about your app but can you stop spam sending me memes for five seconds?"

"Eh, not feeling it."

"Go to hell you dumb picturebox."

"Already here dollface, already here."

You facepalmed.

What an idiot.

Well, he was your idiot.

A/N: I'm leaning towards this being more than a just friends thing, dunno if I'll make it romantic or not in the continuation but I'd reckon that Vox and reader would get pretty close by now sooooo hahaha have fun y'all :D

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #x reader #Get Off My Screen Series

[bella-rose29]

Puppy

Request from anon:

hiiiii, first I wanna say that I enjoy reading your works, they're wonderful. <3

Now, I've seen you post about wanting Lockwood requests and I might have an idea. Lockwood and reader are in long-term relationship (they know each other since childhood, the reader is talentless but Lockwood comes to her when he need to relax/help with a plan/whatever), and no-one knows about the relationship besides them. And after some rough case when kipss crew had to help out, Lockwood and co and kipss crew are drinking in a bar to ease up (the reader works in the bar as part-time job) and in the drunken state Lockwood is even more confident than normally so someone makes a bet with him that he won be able to get a kiss out of the bartender (the reader) by the end of the night... I don't really know what after but maybe you'll be able to find a fluffy/funny ending to it?

I hope I'm making sense.

Have a nice day! :)))

First of all, thank you for the love anon, and I hope you have a nice day too!! <3

Second, I am completely in love with this idea (it's totally something Lockwood would do let's face it) and I had so much fun writing this!!!

Hopefully this lives up to expectations my lovely <3

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: descriptions of injury, fight scenes (with dead people), swearing, suggestive comments, drunken activities (mostly Lockwood), everybody is over 18 so they can legally drink in the pub

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, if you'd like to be added to/removed from the tag list, let me know here <3

(not my gif <3)

Lockwood was tired.

He'd barely slept the night before, despite not having a case, and he'd barely eaten the whole day. It was nearing 7pm now, the sun having set over an hour ago and leaving the city in almost darkness. There would be no sleeping tonight, either, since he and his company had to tackle a Type One in an old lady's house. All Lockwood really wanted was to see her, and have her tell him stories about her day until he fell asleep in her arms, but he couldn't do that right now. Hopefully this would be done quickly, this job, so that he could get to hers before she went to sleep.

Lockwood and Co had been in the kitchen of Mrs Lovey's house for a while now, cups of tea left empty on the counter and the packet of biscuits finished off. Initial readings had been low, giving Lockwood hope that they really would be done quickly, and they'd made note of the likely places for the Source.

"Lockwood? You're staring into space again. You alright?"

He blinked back into reality, pulling himself out of his thoughts of warm rooms and soft kisses.

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I'm alright. Just surprised this Visitor hasn't turned up yet." He checked his watch. "Time for another reading in the living room?"

George nodded. "I'll go first."

The three of them headed in, rapiers at the ready.

"One degree. And a feeling of unease. It's definitely getting close to being here."

"Never mind close, I can see it," Lockwood whispered, taking up a defensive position.

"Yeah, I can hear it, too. Sounds like someone crying. I don't think this is a Type One either," Lucy added, and Lockwood couldn't help but agree.

"Any murders or anything happen here, George?"

"Not that I'm aware of, and I researched for days for this one. Didn't find anything out of the ordinary."

"Male or female, Luce? The voice."

"Uh, hang on, shut up a minute." She closed her eyes, focusing her efforts on Listening. "Male. Definitely. Sounds older, and like he's got some sort of trauma."

"Right. George, you figure out where the Source is. Lucy and I will watch it, make sure it doesn't go for you. Can either of you see it yet?"

"Not really. There's a sort of shiny mist over by that armchair, though," George said, pointing in the direction of the ratty old seat.

"Yeah, okay. That's where it is. Lucy?"

"Same as George. Getting stronger though. Maybe the chair is the Source?"

"Could be. George?"

"You're sure you've got my back, yeah? Because I really can't see it that well right now and I'd rather not die tonight."

"We're sure. Go on, have a poke around."

George did so, hesitantly getting closer to the chair and holding the scanner up. "Yeah, the Source is here somewhere." He prodded the side, and Lockwood saw Lucy flinch.

"It didn't like that at all. God, that was awful. Wait, George, don't-"

She slammed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the scream that even Lockwood could hear now.

"George, get the net," he cried out, rapier moving swiftly as the Visitor grew brighter and aimed for the head of the company.

"Incredibly clear visual, Lockwood! Lucy was right, it's definitely a Type Two!"

"GET THE NET, GEORGE!"

Lockwood had been backed into a corner, arm starting to ache from the continuous motion of the rapier holding off the ghost in front of him. Lucy had recovered (just about), and was picking up her rapier to help him. Sensing a second opponent, the ghost turned, and targeted Lockwood's coworker. The two of them spent the next few minutes sending the Visitor between them while George repeatedly chucked the net over various parts of the chair, expression growing more frantic each time.

"George, what's going on?!" Lucy shouted.

"It's not working! I don't think the chair is the Source! Or if it is, it's inside the chair!"

"Then get searching! Rip the whole bloody thing apart if you have to! But get on with it!" Lockwood gritted his teeth, fighting off the cold unease he felt flooding through his body. He thought of her, and her smile, and her laugh, and pushed back twice as hard against the Visitor. At some point he'd injured himself, the cut on his upper left arm bleeding slightly, but he couldn't think about that until the ghost was dealt with.

"GOT IT!" George shouted, voice triumphant. He slung the net around the object he'd found, and all at once the living room went silent apart from the heavy breaths of the three agents. The ghost disappeared, and the temperature started rising. George sat back on his knees and held the swaddled object up, bits of foam stuffing caught in his curls. "Knife, it's got blood on it. I'd wager she killed her husband. There was a cut already made in the back, made it easier to find." He looked vaguely manic, what with his wide grin and foam-covered hair, but Lockwood couldn't deny his gratitude for his weird friend.

"I reckon we need to have a chat with DEPRAC, then. Mrs. Lovey clearly doesn't live up to her name," he replied, smile matching George's.

~~~

Half an hour later, Lockwood was on his way to hers. He'd left George and Lucy in the taxi, telling them he had something to sort out and he'd be back later, and to not wait up for him, and had caught his own cab to his destination.

He dragged himself up the front steps, knocking on the front door, and couldn't help the smile that appeared when it swung open to reveal his girlfriend.

"Jesus Christ, you look like shit."

"Charming as ever, love. Can I come in?"

Y/n stepped to the side, giving him a peck on the lips as he went past. "Shoes off, then up to my room. I'll be there in a sec. Gimme your coat, I'll hang it up for you."

He pulled himself up to her room, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake her siblings, and collapsed on her bed.

"Look at you. You're like a puppy, all cute and cuddly."

He lifted his head as Y/n walked in, closing the door behind her with a soft click as she balanced a tray in her hands.

"Jacket off. And shirt."

"If you wanted me naked you could have just said so, darling." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, revelling in her blush.

"Shut up and strip, Anthony," she mumbled.

He complied, smirk turning into smile as he saw the medical supplies on the tray, right next to a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

"What even happened?"

"Honestly? No clue. Type One turned out to be a Type Two murder victim though, so that was fun."

"You know, there are times I wish I had Talent. Then you come here looking like this and saying things like that and I wonder why I ever wanted it in the first place. Easy on the shirt, I think it's stuck." He'd winced trying to peel the fabric away from the wound, and Y/n immediately replaced his fingers with hers, touch gentle as she attempted to prise his shirt off. Sucking in air through her teeth as she got it off, Lockwood knew it was bad. It had been a dull throb the whole time he'd been travelling over, too exhausted to think about it more, but now that he had nothing else to think about the pain sharpened.

"This is gonna hurt, okay? I'm just gonna sterilise it, so try not to move. Three, two..." He waited for one, but before she got there, Y/n had placed the cotton wool on his arm, dabbing the alcohol on the wound. He gritted his teeth, asking her about her day. She spoke while she worked, cleaning it out and covering it in protective wrapping. Her voice distracted him, letting him lose himself in her words, and she was done before he knew it, pouring a cup of tea and offering it out to him. "Put this on," she said, passing over an old shirt of his that he left at hers specifically for times like this.

"Do you really want me to?"

"No, but if it means that when my parents inevitably walk in they don't kick you out forever, I'll live with it." He laughed slightly, placing the tea down and pulling the top on, careful not to disturb his wound.

"You know you don't have to do that, right? I'm perfectly capable of looking after my own injuries."

"I know," she shrugged, sitting down next to him on the bed. "But I don't mind. Just another excuse to be close to you, I guess."

"You don't need an excuse for that, love. You know I'll happily give you anything you like."

"Anything?"

He nodded.

"Alright," she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips, breaking away when their smiles got too wide.

"I thought you were going to make me dance naked in the street or something." Her eyes went wide as she took in his words.

"Oh my god, I am totally making you do that sometime."

He groaned, unable to fight the smile on his face as she peppered his cheeks with kisses, finally pressing one to his mouth.

"Remind me why I love you?"

"Because I'm amazing, and the most incredible person ever?"

He chuckled, kissing her again. "Yeah. You are."

~~~

"Where the hell have you been, Tony? We've been waiting for you!"

"Just had some last minute things to sort out, don't get your knickers in a twist, Kipps. Oh, thanks Luce," he said, smiling at the girl as she handed him a flask of tea. He'd actually been at Y/n's, spending time with her before her shift at the pub. He'd almost been late, her parents wanting him to stay for dinner (he had politely declined, reminding them that he had a job to go to as well as their daughter), and her younger siblings wanting him to play with them. Lockwood and Y/n's parents had been friends since before either of them were born, at one point the two families living next to each other on Portland Row, and it was only the arrival of the fourth baby five years ago that had made the L/n family move. It had only been natural that Anthony and Y/n started dating, having been childhood friends, and her parents were delighted at the pairing. Unfortunately that now meant that they wanted him to spend every spare minute at their house, which more often than not made him slightly late for work.

"I'm not wearing knickers," the older boy muttered indignantly, clearly unable to come up with a good enough retort.

"Oh, are these the files? Thanks George."

"Wait, have you not even read these?" Kipps said, eyebrows rising.

"Of course I have, just not the whole compiled thing. I'm not stupid." Kipps scoffed at that.

"Yeah, sure you're not, Tony. C'mon. Hurry up and read, we're late because of you and we need to set everything up before it gets dark."

~~~

Three hours later, the two teams were close to death.

Both in the sense that they were run ragged, energy severely depleted and bodies aching, and also in that they were completely surrounded by ghosts, Type Ones and Types Twos blocking every exit. The report had said that there were only meant to be two Spectres in the whole abandoned department store, but before it had even been properly dark Lucy had heard voices crying out and shouting, and Lockwood had seen death glows so bright he'd needed his sunglasses.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?!"

He was taking a break, eyes aching from the brightness surrounding them and arm protesting the weight of his rapier. He scanned the area, sure that Lucy would have his back for a moment, and spotted something through a gap in the Visitors.

"Lucy?"

"What?!"

"I need you to not kill me and cover me with flares."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to run through the ghosts."

"You're WHAT?!"

"What? What's he saying?" Kipps was trying to get closer to them, rapier cutting arcs into the air and not giving him much headway.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Lucy glared at him, grabbing some flares from her belt.

"Yep. Ready?" She threw, the magnesium creating a break in the swarm of ghosts large enough for Lockwood to cut through. He made it to the other side (although a near miss from a badly aimed flare made him think that Lucy was trying to hit him and not the Visitors), trying to block out the sounds of his team mates yelling as they fought swathes of the undead. He ducked under a chair that a poltergeist had thrown, dodging the knives hurled afterwards. Skidding to a halt in front of a large iron box filled with objects, the lid hanging open, Lockwood slammed it shut, throwing a net over the top for good measure and securing the edges. Within seconds the majority of the Visitors disappeared. A few still remained, including the two poltergeists, but the number was much better.

The two teams spent the next thirty minutes finding the various Sources of the remaining ghosts, all the while trying to not get hit by the items the poltergeists were throwing, and by the end of it when Kipps suggested going to the pub, nobody disagreed.

~~~

Lockwood and Co were in the taxi on their way to the pub when George piped up.

"Why'd you agree to going to the pub with Kipps? I would have thought you'd rather eat your own foot than spend more time with him."

"I need a drink, and he said he'd buy the first round. If it's free, I'll take it. I don't really care who's buying it, even if it's Kipps."

They clambered out the taxi, Lockwood paying the driver and jogging to catch up with the other two just as they entered the pub. Spotting Kipps' team already sat down, the three of them headed over, taking seats and giving their order to the older agent. Lockwood looked around, certain he recognised the building but unsure why, when his gaze caught on the girl behind the bar.

Ah.

Of course the pub Kipps picked was the one that Y/n worked at. Lockwood had been here before, which is why he thought it was familiar, but nobody knew about his relationship with the bartender. Kipps came back with the drinks then, one of the other servers following with the rest and asking for ID. Taking his first sip, Lockwood felt himself relax a little more, happy to not be going anywhere for a while after the gruelling job earlier.

~~~

"You," Lucy pointed at him, "are so drunk right now."

"Seriously, you cannot hold your alcohol, can you Tony?"

"Don't call me Tony, you prick." It was true that Lockwood was a lightweight, and he knew it, but he grumbled about the accusation anyway. Kipps only laughed, not doing much better than his rival in terms of handling alcohol, and took another swig of his beer.

"You're probably rubbish at picking up girls, too. Y'know, you're probably rubbish at every normal guy thing."

"Shut up, I can so pick up girls." He wasn't going to let Kipps tell him he was bad at anything.

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Amazing at it."

"Bet you can't get a kiss out the bartender though."

"Which one," he said, hoping Kipps would pick the right one.

"The one in the blue top, about your age. In fact, I am so confident you'll be shit at this, I'll bet ten quid you can't do it."

"Oh you're on," Lockwood said, knowing already he'd win the bet. Kipps had unknowingly picked Lockwood's girlfriend, and this would be the easiest ten pounds of his life.

"I'll bet a tenner too. I'm looking forward to watching you fail dramatically," Kat Godwin added, smirk on her face. Bobby placed his own bet, and soon enough there was fifty quid on the line, with George and Lucy agreeing with Kipps.

"Off you go, Lockwood," Lucy smiled, giving him a pat on the back. "Try not to traumatise the poor girl."

"Oh, just you all wait," he slurred, pointing a finger at them. "This is gonna be easyyyy." He headed for the bar, confidence filling him and giving him the ability to walk a lot straighter than he would otherwise have. He leaned forward on the wooden surface, fingers drumming against it. "Heyyy," he said, smiling up at his girlfriend as he slid (unsuccessfully) onto a stool.

"Hi... you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm great, and you," he wagged his finger at her, pausing for effect, "are gorgeous." He winked, and she suppressed a laugh, making him pout. "Why're you laughing? It's true!"

"Ant, honey, you are very drunk right now. Please go home," she said, pressing a hand to her mouth to stop the giggles bursting out.

"But I can't go home," he said, suddenly very serious.

"Oh really? Why's that?"

"Because I need a kiss if I'm gonna go home." He puckered up immediately, leaning forward over the bar and closing his eyes.

"Oh my god, Anthony, stop it!"

"Aw, do you not wanna kiss me?" He pouted again, and Y/n couldn't stop her laughter anymore. Lockwood sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. "Well, I'm not going away until I get a kiss from the prettiest bartender person lady that I've ever seen, so you'll have to get used to me being here."

"Okay, alright! Lemme serve this customer, yeah?" She turned away, leaving Lockwood to stew in his seat at her lack of kisses. Waiting for her to come back to him felt like an eternity, and when she came around the bar to stand next to him, he perked up, half launching himself at her. "Woah! Hold on, Ant! Jesus!" He was still sat on the stool, Y/n being only slightly taller than him despite being stood up, and he pulled her between his legs, arms wrapping around her waist. "Wait, what about your friends? I thought they didn't know?"

"Don't care, jus' wanna kiss you. There's a share of fifty pounds in it for you," he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows like he had a few weeks ago when she'd patched him up.

"Oh wow, you really love me, huh? Kissing me for money?" she asked sarcastically, but her eyes were warm. He nodded, dopey look on his face.

"Please? 'Cause Kipps said I can't pick up girls, and he bet money that I couldn't get a kiss out of you, and then the others bet money too, and mostly I wanna prove him wrong, but also I want the money so I can take you on the most amazing date in your life and get you ice cream."

"You are such a golden retriever puppy of a boyfriend, aren't you? Come here." She took his face in her hands, placing a few soft kisses on his mouth. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her closer to him, and Y/n had to brace a hand on the bar so that she didn't fall over from the awkward angle. When she pulled back, he chased her lips for a moment, opening his eyes slowly. His gaze was full of love, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

"I love you, Y/n/n."

"Love you too, Ant. Now get your fifty pounds and drink some water."

"Ugh, but water's boringgg," he complained, frown forming on his face. Y/n chuckled, kissing the crease between his eyebrows.

"I'll give you more than kisses when you come over on Saturday if you sober up." Lockwood stopped frowning immediately, and Y/n could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him.

"Where's the water?"

~~~

"Shit, how'd you do that, Tony?"

Lockwood shrugged. "I'm just really good at picking up girls."

"Sure, is that vodka?"

"Nope, water."

"Why have you got that?" Kipps wrinkled his nose, handing over his portion of Lockwood's winnings.

"Because she told me to drink it," he said, sipping the liquid through the straw he'd asked for (it made drinking boring things more fun, he'd told Y/n).

"Uh... okay?"

"Yeah. I feel like- hang on, Lucy, where's your tenner? Thanks. I feel like it's a little bit unfair, the bet, 'cause she is actually my girlfriend, but- no, you can't take the money back! You made a bet! No take-backs! But thanks anyway."

"So you can't pick up girls!" Kipps shouted, thinking he'd finally found something Anthony Lockwood couldn't do.

"Well technically I can, 'cause I had to pick her up in the first place to get her to be my girlfriend, and also she's not that heavy, so I can definitely pick her up if she doesn't wriggle too much. I know 'cause I've done it before."

Kipps groaned. "Wait... she just told you to drink water, so you are?"

"Yep. She's very persuasive. Basically said that if I drink it all then when I go to her house on Saturday we're gonna have sex," he said casually.

Everybody around the table choked on their drinks.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #idiots in love #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

[eldstunga]

Hi! I really love your art! The lines are so bold but the colours so natural that it feels distinct but grounded?? I'm obsessed with the shapes in your work

I was wondering if you had any advice for drawing bodies? Whenever I try it either my proportions are off or an arm ends up looking like a calf or something.

First of all, thank you <3 That's so nice and I think "lines bold, colours natural" is some truly aspirational words to say about my art, I'll strive to be what you say I am <3 I do not, unfortunately, have any great tips on drawing bodies - it's a very wide topic and fundamentally just really bloody hard. I fail horribly 9 times out of 10. How to approach it I think varies a lot with like...HOW you are struggling, and who you are as a person. For proportions and anatomy there are definitely books to look at, and some rules of thumb that can help you - anything from "the shoulders are about 2.5-3 heads wide" through "feet are the same length as the forearm", "elbows are in line with the navel and the navel is two sternums down" etc etc. For me, realising just how big the ribcage actually is and learning how to use that as a unit of measure was a big event (the torso is about two ribcages long). Look at references, Draw over low opacity references and try to look for patterns that help YOU. Like... "Hm, do the shoulders line up with something useful?"

Having a good ref model to double check things helps too. The pen is pointing to about the bottom of the ribcage. But there's also stuff like maybe you're getting too hung up on construction and then it might help more to try to draw from references by ONLY blocking in a silhouette first. This helps me sometimes still:

Or you could be like me, struggle with all of the above and then some - like how to make poses look natural and/or dynamic? Weight distribution is a whole other topic.. gah, it never ends, but it's fun to learn.

Lastly, this took me way too long to realise and I think it should be said: Do not fret too much about STUDYING. The unfair thing is that the better you are at something, the better you will be at actually learning from doing studies and exercises or reading books. We accept this with many other disciplines and sports but rarely art. Mileage is king, and mileage is best gained from having fun and enjoying what you do. If you find studies suffering and frustrating you're probably better off just drawing what you enjoy and fuck it if it isn't "pushing your boundaries" or whatever. Eventually you'll get to the point where studies start to give more than they take, and then you're home free. I'm not gonna recommend a billion resources you likely won't enjoy but here are some things I genuinely found helpful lately: * a physical anatomy model, they're pricy and not necessary but being able to just look at it every now and then, turn it over etc helps. * The "Morpho" series of books, they do not teach anatomy, but they are very useful quick reference books and much more easily digested than most anatomy material. Just try to find a real anatomy book to read once your appetite is up as well.

The zig-zag/Lightning bolt method for arms and legs, fuckin' thing revolutionised how I sketch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCkmB030GpQ

Gottfried Bammes "The Complete guide to Anatomy for Artists and Illustrators" This thing is insane, it's from the 50's and like 600 pages long. You could absolutely kill someone with it, but a lot of the pages are more philosophical or art history you can skip and despite its age and fear factor this dude writes in a witty, clever and just wonderful way that I've seen nowhere else. Fantastic photos. By far, FAR the best anatomy book I've ever seen. It's not a book I'd recommend for someone starting out, I would not have been able to digest it like four years ago, but once you get to a certain point it's amazing.

That's a lot, uhhh, feel free to ask me for more specific tips this was a bit of a rant. Hope some of it was useful!

#art tips #.txt #asks #sorry its such a wide topic I dunno where to start

[kishibe-kisser]

Hi!! May I request for fluff with Baizhu and a reader who works at the funeral parlor (maybe a relative to Hu Tao?)

Either way, I hope you have a nice day!

Sorry this took so long to write! i was wracked for inspiration.

Tags: gn!reader x Baizhu, fluff, reader needs more than a painkiller for a headache, and that's about it, Changsheng is a little bit of a smartass.

Word count: 1066

Your head was absolutely throbbing, every step you took making it effectively worse. Going into work was absolutely out of the question, the funeral parlor would simply have to wait and so would Hu Tao. You needed medical attention because this wasn't good anymore, simple painkillers weren't taking care of it.

You could hear Hu Tao in your head as you ascended the steps to BuBu Pharmacy, warning you, yelling at you to turn around and that she could help you even though you knew she couldn't. She just really didn't want you to look for help from the pharmacist. Personally, you had never met Baizhu but you couldn't help but think your cousin was exagerating. You needed help and well, you were willing to risk it.

"So many stairs." You mumbled, the top coming into sight as you felt yourself getting lightheaded. Stumbling a little, you placed your hands on the step in front of you, trying everything in your power not to pass out, not when you were this close to the top. "Are you alright?" A smooth, calm voice asked as you were trying to stay steady. "Not particularly." You said in return, finding a way to maneuver your body so that you were sitting down on the step instead.

Looking up at the owner of the voice, you found yourself swallowing thickly. The light lilac snake around his neck being a beautiful contrast to his green hair. "Baizhu?" You asked, squinting your eyes at the throbbing headache. "You know me, I don't believe we've met however." He crouched in front of you, golden eyes scanning your face. It was undoubtedly clear that you weren't feeling well, your skin completely devoid of color. "But that doesn't matter right now, let's get you help." He added on before you could speak again, picking you up princess style before you could even object not that you particularly could, the sunlight being way too bright. Opening your eyes even hurt.

The sunlight went away when you were brought inside, not into the front of the pharmacy, but the back. A little room with a bed, desk and privacy screen.

"There we go, I assume you were coming to see me." He said, smiling at you softly as he laid you down on the bed. The lighting made it easier for you to look at him, finding your cheeks heating up at the sight of him hovering over you. "Yes, I've had this splitting headache for days and it won't go away." You said and he stood up again, clearing his throat as he wandered to his desk. "Okay, I'll run some tests to see what I can do for you." He grabbed a little light to check your pupils.

"So, you know me but I don't know you. How is that?" He asked, helping you sit up and looking over your face. It seemed some color had returned to your face by simply being inside and not on the stairs. You were good looking, even in your sickly state Baizhu could see that. If he had seen you around before, he most definitely would have remembered you.

"I work at the funeral parlor." You winced when the light reached your eyes, Baizhu reaching out to hold your hand gently for comfort. "Hu Tao's my cousin." You admitted and the pharmacist couldn't help but laugh. "That's you why didn't come to me when this started." He said and you nodded, continuing with his tests. "Yes Hu Tao has become quite mixologist for my head ache, she doesn't know I'm here." You told him and he nodded his head.

"Well I think she'd throw an absolute fit if she knew you visited me for help." He was smiling at the thought and you couldn't help but find it endearing how he enjoyed messing with your cousin. "I think you're right." You laughed only to immediately stop and clutch your head, shooting pain making you whimper. Baizhu frowned, not enjoying that you were clearly in pain and excused himself for a moment.

"You like them." Changsheng remarked as the pharmacist mixed together herbs and prepared a cool compress. "Be quiet." He shot back, getting flushed at the snake's deduction. "Their cousin will give you Hell." The snake pressed on further and Baizhu sighed, knowing she was right. "What Hu Tao doesn't know won't hurt her, besides what am I supposed to do? Not treat her cousin? They can barely keep their eyes open." He said, taking the medication he had concocted and shushing the snake further as he re-entered the back room.

"You're not like Hu Tao describes." You remarked as the cool compress was pressed to your forehead, laying back down in the bed. "In a good way I hope." He grinned and nodded, holding the compress to your forehead. "I have no qualms with Hu Tao, she seems to absolutely despise me. Considering you're family, I thought you might do the same." He added on and tilted your head up for you to drink the bitter medicine he had made you. "We might be family but our ideologies don't always align." You said once you finished grimacing from the taste.

The medicine nearly instantly took effect, however also making you drowsy, finding it more and more difficult to keep your eyes open as you spoke with Baizhu.

"One of the reason's for your headache was fatigue, so I gave you something to help you rest as well." He explained, noticing your fifth yawn in the last 2 minutes. "Oh." You said in realisation, giving him a lazy smile as you decided to stop fighting the drowsiness. "I want you to rest here, where it's peaceful and quiet and you can't be disturbed. We want you back on your feet quickly." He patted your hand as he spoke and you felt your cheeks heating up again. "Are you always this quick with remedies?" You asked him, curling up in the blankets he had provided for you.

"Yes, but I particularly want you back on your feet quickly." He admitted, ignoring the look Changsheng was giving him. "Why's that?" You laughed, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the way he was looking at you.

"Well, the faster you're on your feet again, the faster I can treat you to a meal and maybe we can call it a date."

#genshin reaction #genshin x reader #baizhu #baizhu x reader

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

“How did it go with the kid?” Bruce asked, while he was doing some research on the computer.

Clark came up to him, “He got himself taken to the top of Bristol saying his house was there.”

“Mhm…he lied, obviously.”

“Of course,” Clark groaned. “I've been keeping an eye on him because, you know, I wouldn't dream of letting just a kid go home in Gotham of all places. No offense."

“No offense taken,” the man said. “Have you seen where he lives?”

“You won't believe it, but he's your neighbor.”

Bruce muttered something under his breath, and Clark sighed, "You already knew that, didn't you?"

“I wanted to confirm my suspicions.”

“Sure…and what will you do now?”

Bruce turned to him, their faces very close, "What do you mean?"

“I saw the way you looked at him. You had the same look when you greeted Dick and then Jason. You're interested, aren't you?”

The billionaire replied, “He has very lively parents, Clark.”

“Parents who are not here, and who leave him alone. I don't know, this seems like a case of child abandonment to me."

“His family is rich. They will be able to afford the best lawyers. “

"You too. So why don't you try?”

“It hasn't even been a month, and you already want a child with me?” he teased, pulling him closer.

“What can I say, you influenced me."

“What a smart mouth… can you use it for other things too?”

Clark smirked, “Do you want to try?”

They were about to kiss when they heard a disgusted, “Urgh, what the fuck Bruce. Don't fuck in the cave.”

Ruined moment. The two heroes walked away, Clark's cheeks as red as his cape.

Bruce sighed, “Jason, language.”

“Yeah, not this shit. You went out on your date night without me. I bet the rooftops were warm tonight.”

Here's what happens when you deal with a teenager: jokes and double meanings about his love life. Good thing Dick was in New York, otherwise there would have been two of them making fun of him.

“We were investigating together. It was work.”

“As you said, old man.”

Clark coughed then, “Jason…we'd like to talk to you about something.”

“What?”

“What would you think about a little brother?”

Jason blinked. Bruce ran a hand over his face. Clark really didn't want to let it go, huh? He was about to intervene when his son blurted out, “You got Bruce pregnant?!”

"No!" Bruce immediately exclaimed. “Jason, we're both men.”

“Hey, he's an alien. How do I know how it works! Oh god, Dickhead is going to go crazy…”

"Nobody's pregnant," Bruce sighed, suddenly feeling very old. “We met a kid tonight and Clark thinks I should take him in.”

“Let me guess… he has black hair.”

“Yes,” Clark replied.

"Blue eyes?" Jason asked again.

“Yes.”

“Traumatized and weirdo?”

Clark thought about it before saying, “I'm not sure if he's traumatized, but he's definitely a…peculiar kid. He follows Batman to take photos to put on his Tumblr blog… ”

“He's definitely a weirdo,” Jason concluded. - There's nothing to do. You have a type, Bruce.”

Bruce groaned. What had he done to make people believe he had no impulse control… oh, yeah. He had literally kidnapped Jason. He didn't have a good record.

“Look, I'll check on him to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. If I see something that doesn't convince me, I will act accordingly.”

From the way Jason and Clark looked at him, it was clear that neither of them believed him.

READ MORE ZOOM

#crossover #fanfiction #au #feels #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #clark kent #superbat #superman x batman #superman #batfamily #batfam

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook:Sugar & Spice (Intro)

In which Jungkook really wants people to love you just as much as he does - or maybe not.

Tags/Warnings: Raccoon Hybrid!Reader x Idol!Jungkook, established relationship, opposites attract because I love that concept, are you tired of my hybrid stories yet because I'm not, fluff, romance, smut, jealous koo, slice of life, mild ddlg themes

Chapter length: short

Other content: Spoiled, Calm

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"I forgot.." you mumble quietly, a little ashamed about your entire situation as you've just had to explain to your boyfriend that yes, you've just gotten your period, and yes- you've probably now stained his nice expensive little sofa in his studio.

"It's fine, see?" He mumbles before casually wiping the leather with a tissue before throwing it into the trashcan nearby. "Didn't even stain at all. Do you wanna go change?" He asks casually, looking at you - before he clicks his tongue, the clear waters in your eyes a telltale sign of your typically emotional reaction to things like these. "Come here, crybaby, everything's fine!" He laughs a little, letting you cling onto him as you hide in embarrassment.

"I don't feel good." You whine into his chest, and he chuckles.

"I know baby." He says, as he pats your head. "You wanna go wash up?"

"But I don't have anything to change.." you complain, now getting even more frustrated.

"Bullshit. I've got your pyjama pants here somewhere-" He says, parting from you to search for the clothing item before he crawls.. underneath his desk?

"What're you doing, Kookie?" You giggle a little, watching him pull out a simple black canvas bag that he opens the zipper of.

"Excuse me? You think after what- 4 years I wouldn't be prepared for shit like this?" He proudly claims, before holding up one of your period-slash-heat pull ups- something you've been horrified of telling him about the first two years of your relationship with him, too fearful of how he might react to it. But you've learned soon enough that while Jungkook does sometimes get a little mean in his fun with others around him, he's not a bad guy at all. He's just a bit clumsy at times.

"Why do you have them here?" You whine, grabbing after the pair he's got in his hand.

"Why not?" He shrugs. "Your heats can start random as shit, and your periods are even worse. Better safe than sorry." He simply answers, closing the bag and shoving it back underneath the desk. "Now go change, I'll prepare the couch so you can nap." He jokes, smacking your thigh as you get up to follow his word.

Pulling out a blanket, he puts everything he knows you'll appreciate where he thinks it'll be good, before he checks his phone.

Only recently, he's gone public. While fans knew you existed, they didn't know much about you, nor that you and Jungkook weren't just platonic but a genuine relationship. And while he'd been prepared for what surely was to come, he'd been surprised by the welcoming reaction of the fans, many already expecting it and others defending that he's a person who deserves a private life.

And so, he's been more open with you, company even allowing you to now be seen in behind the scenes footage, and even publishing professional photos from backstage of you. People became pretty much just as charmed as he himself had been years ago- happily accepting you as a part of it all now, and he couldn't have been luckier.

But at the same time, he starts feeling just a little upset at the comments some fans keep repeating.

"She's so cute, I wish I had a hybrid like her!"

"Honestly though, if hybrids were allowed to be idols, she'd definitely be the visual of the generation!"

"She kind of seems almost too nice for Jungkookie~!"

"You think she ever feels lonely at home? I mean, he's at work all the time.."

"Jungkookie?" You ask, and he snaps his head up from his phone, boiling emotions quickly forgotten at the sight of you holding your fluffy striped tail in your hands. "Can you take a nap with me?" You wonder quietly, and he internally swells with pride.

"Of course, baby bear." He chuckles before joining you on the couch, holding you close and tightly just how he knows you like it. Does he leave you alone too much? Do you feel lonely sometimes? He's interested in the answer, but scared of it just as much- so he won't ask the questions. He'll just hold you, love you, and care for you.

Because the love you have is special, and nothing will break you both apart. Not time, not work, and for sure, not his career.

Hopefully.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine

[xmortuarykittyx]

Ever Locked

Part 4: Good Night, Bunny

Part 3: With Your Ghost

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy × Ex!Coroner's Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of enjoying inflicting emotional and physical pain on another, just Leon’s pov on things right now.

Fucking rain. Every single day, nothing like the thick air, the feeling of Raccoon City before its inevitable bombing. Boots clap against the rain puddles, slick as the show slides on the step, nearly knocking me off balance and into the small bushes by the hotel door way. "Shit-", the word spat as my hand clutches at the automatic door, stilling it. "Fucking rain, can't wait to get back to my place.", all the more reason to get into her mind, to open Pandora's Box into the mind of the woman of the hour.

   My phone dings as I adjust the whiskey bottles in the bag, shifting from my right to left hand, reaching for the Motorola Razr, the fucking brick costing much more than i wanted to pay. Chris Redfield sent a message. A grumble left my lips as i entered the doors, heading to the shiny elevator. Tapping his stupid little contact photo opened the message; "so, when were you gonna tell everyone you were over 3000 miles away? You know we listed you as MIA and had a chopper checking around your house, right? Never understood why you needed to live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, had us worried you went off the deep end or something." I could nearly hear Rebecca hitting him in the shoulder for the last part.

  My choices in house placement was quite simple; remote enough to not have any issues with neighbors- like a certain old hag who should've minded her own business- then, were close enough to a small town with a grocery store and a post office. It's perfect. Small, far away from everyone else and it can be a small safe space for the family i'm going to build. I have lived my life giving and giving and giving, giving up my life to the government, letting all my wants go to work on missions, letting vacations slip past me just so i can work my ass off one more time and get denied the next vacation. I never have a moment to myself until i'm MIA.

  I'll be selfish, this time around, i'll be selfish. I want one thing to myself, my home to myself. I want her, bunny, to myself. The future is so uncertain, but in certainty, i know i will have her and she will be away from everything and everyone. She'll be something just for me, for my pleasure. It's selfish, god, it's wrong to be so self centered to throw off someone's life so horribly, but i can't find it in myself to regret the choice i've made to come and find her.

  The elevator dings, bringing my attention to the wobbly reflection. My hair is dark with grease, my skin dry and flakey in parts, my hand comes up just as the doors open. Fingers rubbing at the rough scruff that coats my jaw. I looked like shit, honestly, i would've cried had i seen myself too. As the door threaten to close once more, i step out. The hallway is lit with a warm lamp, it was short and the rain taps against the windows with a rhythmic patter. I wonder what she's doing, is she worrying? Is she scared that i'm back, or is that perfect new boyfriend currently too busy keeping her wrapped around him? The latter causes my brows to drop.

  The keycard taps the lock, hearing a beep and a green light before my, still wobby, legs threaten to let me fall. The handle is clicked quickly, falling under the weight of my hand. The room is... clean, at the most, plain. Very minimalistic. The bed is neat, the coffee cups wrapped, definitely won't be touching those, unless they have the creamer i like. Coffee left a bad taste, trying to down that god awful black coffee to impress the older officers still made me want to throw up. The bitterness, i wasn't someone into the bitter things, despite how bland my life had become. Time didn't stop for me to indulge in anything sweet or extra. That's why i won't answer that message, once i acknowledge it all, then come questions, why's, when's, where's. I don't have the time, I needed to set my plan in place. I needed to know that things were gonna work out this time, this opportunity.

  The desk is clear of anything, which is good, my bags lay underneath from my earlier visit before the White Wolf. Duffel bags of clothes, files and photos. It was time... but a drink first wouldn't hurt. A soft sigh leaves my lips as i lay the whiskey bottles down, hearing them clink together. Jack Daniel's, wasn't the top shelf shit- but it was cheap and whiskey tastes like whiskey once you've downed enough- they all taste the same.

  The bag rustles as i fish out the first bottle, nearly half empty from the gas station down the road. My boots slide off with ease as i step towards the coffee maker, pulling one of the little paper cups from the stack. "As good as any.", my shoulders weigh with a shrug before the cap is off and the cup is half full of warm whiskey. The amber liquor burns, the flavor vanilla-ish. Something i should've looked at before throwing the cash on the counter. Alcohol is alcohol, at the end of the day.

   My back hits the bedding, cup laid aside on the side table. The thoughts of the past few years flooding my mind, the latest tragedy being my team being ratted out and only myself coming out as a survivor. It never seems to fail, anyone close to me... their life is cut short by some tragedy or they're in danger at my hands. It was a cycle, one i wouldn't let touch the innocence of my bunny. The pillow engulfs my cheek as i lay my head upon it, the inside rough but manageable as i reach out for the cup, my fingers pushing it further away before catching the rim and pulling it closer.

  My head aches with the next round of thunder, the lightening cracking over the dim room. Engulfing everything in a light for a few seconds, the painting across from the bed getting my attention. It looked... angry, and yet it was just swipes of black and red paint over a white background. What? You gonna say it's some internal struggle i'm having or something. is it like those tests the therapist hands you to get a read on you? The liquid in the cup splashes as i swirl it, my mind bouncing from left to right. It feels surreal, im sure it does for her, too. The moment i've been anticipating since i saw the name under a few address, the moment she's been dreading since that faithful day. It's crazy how much fate can dictate.

  The Chinese have a legend, about a red string of fate tied between two lovers. It's a beautiful story-pictures of fingers intertwined with the others, red string wrapped delicately around pinkies and swirling around the hands that finally met their match. It's beautiful until the string is tied around your throat by the one tethered to the other side, that string of fate is telling. What was meant to show you endless care and tenderness now tightly stealing away the very air that kept you alive, that tore at the delicate flesh, its motives unknown and terrifying.

  Another rumble of thunder and that thought too is ripped from my consciousness. I see the fault in my plans, don't get me wrong. I'm not insane. I simply don't care, i want this and for once in my miserable life, im going to get something i want. She's just the poor soul who has to be the one i set my sights on. She loved me once too, you know? She said it- herself- she loved me. She let me see her vulnerable and bare. I want to see it again, that bitch at the bar declined giving me Bunny's new number. What a stuck up bitch. A laugh ripped past my lips, the liquor splashing out of the cup lip and landing on my cheek as i wipe it away quickly. Hand once more in my scruffy, growing in beard. I wonder if i should keep it, at least while i'm here? Nah. I never could grow a nice full beard, mine always patchy and uneven. It is what it is, but i'm not shaving it right now. My eyes are stinging, head falling back on the pillow as the cup slides back onto the night stand.

  The clothes call to me from their bag, begging for me to change into the soft grey sweatpants that have been my favorite for years now. I feel a twitch in my leg, a pushing force that is quickly pushed away. That can wait for tomorrow, as can planning. The bed is too magnetic to my body. The sheets already bunched under my weight, fingers digging around to grip the sheet and pull it up, promptly causing my muscles to ache, realizing i have, indeed, made no progress, my legs stand for a millisecond, before i'm back into the bed, quicker than the bag can see. Nothing outweighed the amount of exhaustion that built up in my brain.

  The aircon kicks on, the room settling at a nice sixteen nine degrees. Cold and enough the blanket keeps me warm. The buzz of the alcohol and the warm and cool feeling just about as perfect as it can get. Something feels as if it's missing, like there's something that should be here and isn't, but i think i know what it is. I think it's always been missing and the sleepless nights had me begging any god that i'd have that back. Sleep doesn't come easily for me anymore, but knowing her presence isn't as far as i anticipated, has me feeling slightly more relaxed. Maybe enough to settle into bed all night, or enough to keep staying asleep the entirety. Either way, as long as i sleep. I can't keep pushing missions with no rest, last mission i was nearly left back there. Sleep is a necessity that hasn't been fulfilled since her disappearance. I know it wasn't her choice or fault either too.

  That's why I'd wanted to speak with her at her work, to see if all these years anything had changed. I know it probably has, but does she still bring that peace and calmness to me, can she still cause me to snap instantly with her little smart ass behavior? I have to know. Either way, she's mine. She's always been mine.

  The sheets cocoon me, cradling my body as I slept in my daily clothes. It didn't matter, i'd slept in abandoned ships, cots that were as hard as a plank of wood, in 3 day old clothes, bed for other men who hadn't showered in weeks. This bed, felt amazing, compared. The curtains letting the lightening crack over my face but the stinging stalled as the darkness encroached my eyes. The fluttering causing a tear slipped pasty cheek. warm as i nearly got to that state of peace. Work can be done tomorrow, plans, actions and strong up my temporary home, it'll all work out. Good night, Bunny...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #yandere leon #resident evil #yandere leon kennedy #resident evil 2 #puppy leon #puppy!leon kennedy #resident evil x you #resident evil 4 #yandere vendetta leon #yandere #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #di leon #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy ff #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil vendetta #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #yandere re6 leon #yandere re2 leon #no use of y/n #leon kennedy

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

I'll Show You Just How Sad I Am

a raymond smith x reader quick little blurb, just 1k words

there's mentions of smut in this so read at your own risk <33 who knows, maybe raymond will make a more regular occurrence on my blog over the next few weeks

here's my masterlist in case you want to check out my other works

"Should be the door to your left, honey."

Your voice is sweet in his ear, a pleasant distraction from the run-down building Mickey had sent him off to. It's smelly and dirty and even though he knows he should most likely feel pity, he's still just as disgusted. He'd be with you in a heartbeat if he could, safe and clean in the comfort of your home.

"Mickey should've sent a cleaning lady", he grunts as he knocks at the door, your chuckle almost making up for the very truthful, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

"Mickey wanted you because you're the best", you recite - you've told him often enough by now that it really is reciting. "And because he trusts you to keep this clean."

Which is easier said than done.

Twenty minutes later, the whole thing's anything but clean.

Sure, he'd very much accomplished bringing Laura home - but he'd also left a dead teenager in a puddle of blood about two stories down from where he should've been sitting.

"Left, left!", you call into the mic. Even though you're far from panicking, you're still much too loud, your voice flowing from his earpiece and stinging his brain.

"I'm trying, darling", he grunts back, breathless and panting as he pushes on, one foot in front of the other on the pavement of some random South London streets.

"I know, I know", you sigh. He isn't sure whether he's actually hearing you chew on your lip or imagining it, but he doesn't really have the capacity to think too much about it at the moment. "He's right in front of you. You've got him, Ray."

Yeah... The only problem is that what you must be seeing as a moving, flashing dot on a digital map, he's seeing as a bunch of teenagers trying to look intimidating. Probably feeling intimidating too. God, this is exactly why he didn't want the job. He isn't made for the fucking low-classed youth.

"You've seen enough?", that bastard of a boy spits at him. "Now I've got backup."

Raymond steadies his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath in.

"You couldn't back up a phone, you cunt", he rasps, his erratic heartbeat slowly starting to calm back down.

"Raymond", you scold. "That's a child."

"That's a bastard", he mutters, before he finally straightens and tries his best at a somewhat mannered bargain. He's really only here for the fucking phone. He needs those pictures, then he's gone. He doesn't want to leave more unnecessary corpses to take care of.

So he offers them money. Which is something that they should definitely take, just judging by how they look. Plus a visit to a very good psychiatrist. But they don't. It's the same fucking bastard who's taken the pictures in the first case and got him into this mess that refuses - and in such a really stupid way, too: "How 'bout you give us that bag and be gone anyway?" - god, even you let out a choked up laugh at that, your breath carrying through the mic and into Ray's earpiece.

He drops his chin to his chest and shakes his head. What a fucking bunch of idiots. Goddamn it. He can feel his blood boil, hot and hotter.

"It's bait", you mutter, your voice low. "Calm down, love. You've got a machine gun. Use it."

Yeah, fucking hell, it's bait, he knows that. It doesn't change the way he's feeling. But your voice in his ear at least brings him back down to reality.

"Right", he grunts, then he swipes his coat to the side, closes his hand around the grip of the gun and steadies his fingertips against the trigger. He pulls it out in one swift motion, points it at the sky and shoots. For a good three seconds longer than necessary.

"Just like that", you breathe, your grin dripping down onto your voice and melting into his ear like honey. You've really got to stop that, he actually loses his focus for half a moment there and in his line of work, next time that means sure death.

The entire bunch of teenage boys flees - as expected - and in less than a minute, Raymond has the phone pressed into his palm.

"God, sometimes I really hate that I'm not there", you sigh, something in the background ruffling, probably as you shift into a more comfortable position on your chair. "Kinda wish I could've seen you."

"Run after a little cunt like that? You didn't miss anything, darling", he says, turning his head left and right before he strides back towards the car, his steps long and purposeful.

"Turn the corner here", you mutter, your voice taking on that specific tone that tells him there's a lazy grin licking at your lips. He can just imagine how you're looking (especially now that he has the time and freedom of mind for it) - one foot propped up on those bar stools that you'd bought for the kitchen, your equipment organised on the table top in front of you, his shirt hanging from your shoulders and pooling in your lap, your head tilted back and your eyes half-closed as you talk to him.

"I don't mean the little idiot", you go on, undeterred even as he narrowly avoids a trash can. Fuck, you really distract him too much. "I'm talking about you. God, you sounded so hot I wanted to jump at you. Actually scratch that, I still do."

He lets out a chuckle as he spots the car, his steps slowing. He should hurry up, he knows that. But he's got you in his ear, talking in that sweet voice of yours about just how much he affects you. He can't pass up on that.

"You're a little fuckin' minx, darling", he mutters with a grin, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check if there's any possibility he could be overheard. He doesn't necessarily feel like making your conversation public, even as you hum into the microphone.

"Yeah, but yours", you mumble. It sounds like you're almost proud of that. "Here's an idea, love: Get back home before I finish my shower and I'll show you just how sad I am that I couldn't watch you."

#x reader #raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #the gentlemen netflix #raymond smith the gentlemen

[soraviie]

their flaws.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━  masterlist

━ about: angst! ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: requested by anon! These are as accurate as any vibe check I give to strangers, I'm fairly sure I can do more realistic tea leaf readings! So put your pitchforks down!

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON:

absolutely passive aggressive

sometimes when stressed (which is not that unoften)

sometimes when jealous

but definitely dampens your spirits by giving a very dry, sarcastic "awesome" to some harmless questions

if you have ever seen a single American interview you know exactly what I'm talking about

If he's jealous of someone who he knows he shouldn't also does this

Especially if you're talking about them

Say like a coworker or a neighbour who was helpful or funny

He goes like "well aren't they just the greatest person ever! I'll gift you a mini fridge at your wedding."

Then stomps away

I feel like he's a stomper

Always comes back, gently knocking on the door and apologising for his behaviour

And he is ashamed of it because dumping all the bottled-up anger is not something any partner should do but occasionally it does happen

People are not perfect

Also tends to, how to explain, be too decisive about your decisions

Say you consult him on what to do

And he has decided on option A because that's what he would do he doesn't listen to option B

Even if it's the one you're more partial to

Which is fine

But then he goes and does the thing of "well if you want to fail completely and face the consequences of the wrong decision, please go ahead"

He has a bit of a problem with micromanaging given the line of work, being a leader and undercurrent of care

He wants you to succeed but it just comes off as such a high horse it makes you want to choke him

Speaking of jealousy has his episodes

You'd think he has nothing to be insecure about but he has a lot of them

Sometimes he thinks he doesn't look right

You know how he at times mentions not being the best looker

Which is...Mr Kim, check your prescription, please

But most of all gets insecure about the way his career impacts you and your relationship

There are other people who can give you all this love and share it freely

So he works himself into a tight little ball of stomach ulcer and then as a defence becomes passive aggressive

It's a bit of a cursed cycle

Rolls! His! Eyes! With! A! Deep! Sigh!

Especially when you're arguing

Which for me is an open-arm invitation to tear someone a second, a third or whatever number hole, it'll be new for sure but hey I've got anger issues

Fairly emotional in the moment, he can get loud and assertive

Cause I think he's used to partially bulldozing his way through

Luckily though someone so keen on self-improvement will genuinely try to fix these flaws, listen to your arguments and objections

But once again no one is perfect

YOONGI:

Because I'm a Yoongi stan I might be biased

I am biased

But I think he hides his flaws well by pulling back

Like if he wants to snap he knows he can ruin a good thing in his life so he bites his tongue

With that out of the way

He is reserved

He does spend a lot of time on work

He doesn't know how to relax

He will lug his equipment everywhere and anywhere

Even if you beg him to relax for just three days, he just can't

Sometimes relies on drinking too much to get him through the week

He has a knack to prove someone wrong

It's a knee-jerk reaction mostly

Say, your friend that he does not particularly like would say something incorrect, he'll pipe up from his corner in an extremely arid tone

"Hmm, funny you should say that, because blah blah. Guess ignorance is not that hard of a burden to bear."

Sometimes he expects you to read his mind

Let's say he's saying with his mouth "I want to stay home" but he actually wants someone to drag him outside but also he wants to complain about it the whole time

But because people can't read minds you leave him be

And then he's left to sulk

You're going to have a hard time if you're a person who enjoys going outside, actively being involved in things

Because even if he does it, he does it simply because of you, not because he wants to

And it's just so apparent that he does not want to be here that in the end it just ruins the whole thing

Speaking of, he sometimes goes along with things he doesn't want to just because acts of service is his love language but sometimes it's better to just state it outright that he doesn't want to instead of lying

Doesn't want surprises that interfere with his schedule and work even if they're well-meaning

Clearly wants to say "I told you so" on some occasions and be smug about

If only he could hide it better

Can diss you, your friends and your family with a throwaway remark that he didn't think much about it just ends up cutting deeper than he ever thought

I think he can be careless? in a way when you're sick

For example, if you're feeling bad and you just want to whine and be catered to he could just call you and say take your pills and that's it

Doesn't exactly coddle you in a situation like this because that's what he would do himself

But he's not a bad listener so there's a fine chance that over time he'll be at a middle ground with these issues

JIN:

Doesn't always understand when he needs to be serious

Sometimes he needs to be sad, sombre and depressed for the occasion

But he has a hard time breaking out of that jokester role

So it can come off as ingenuine and shallow

Occasionally you want someone to just ask, give a serious question to which you could seriously answer, to get all those feeling out and not just make endless jokes which give no opportunity for deeper discussion

Talks about himself a tad too much

I could see how someone could get tired of it, even if it's self-depreciative

If you're mentioning how you don't feel pretty, he could misconstrue it as just the occasional thought everyone has not something he needs to assure you about

"Don't worry," he might say with a light chuckle but the gap in your chest is on the opposite quite heavy. "I'll be handsome enough for two."

"Yeah, you're perfect," you scowl and walk away, hands in pockets

I think he can sometimes unintentionally create this disappointing pang in your heart

That you're not heard enough

That he doesn't want to engage in a deep, philosophical discussion

Because that is not something he's partial to

This could mean you turn to other people to talk about your problems

And he becomes huffy

"What? Am I not...good enough?" he asks, defensive

"Not in this case."

And it creates this stifling situation where no one is at fault and yet is right in their own way

It's your right to want to converse about this

And it's his right to remain true to his nature

I don't think he knows how to change himself manually so to speak

Jin always strikes me as the guy who changes by naturally maturing and by experience not by putting out a list in his head "this is what we fix, this is what we do"

But also this jokester role is exactly that - a role

He's not as cheerful deep down but he's not used to sharing it openly

He's used to diffusing the tension, not creating it

HOSEOK:

I think a large portion would say that it is Yoongi who struggles with shyness and intimacy and communication but it is my humble opinion that the absolute hardest to get to know is Hoseok

He's very supportive of you but is almost dismissive to receive any compliments

It's like he's not able to comprehend how to accept his faults

Already so soon after releasing "Jack in the Box", he said he was already looking for setbacks and flaws

I think it can be discouraging to have your compliments and praises brushed by with a polite smile and nod of the head that clearly says "I don't believe anything you just said"

He's so overly critical over anything he does and is so obstinate about being even...cheered up about it?

I think at this point it's how he's wired - to reach for new heights by stepping down upon the old ones

But it can be depressing to see someone you love continually tear themselves down

Another absolute workaholic has every minute of every day planned down and scheduled and someone really grave needs to happen to break that schedule

Bad at intimacy

I've always said it but a relationship with Hoseok to me is the kind where you're with a friend first and foremost

He's better at handling friends than lovers

Struggles to communicate his side of things

He listens more than talks

Absolutely intentionally directs questions at you so you would talk about yourself (which is what he wants to hear) instead of talking about himself

He thinks of himself as your silent glue, keeping your shit together but not voicing any of his sentiments over it

Again, many would say Yoongi but I think it's Hoseok that's independent to a fault

Like a little helper rushes to do what he needs to but accepts no help

Brushes off with a smile that it's no worry, that he can do it himself

Getting to know him means hitting a giant fortress over and over again

So it's very frustrating but once every while he breaks and lets it all out

What matters is that it is during this you try to convince him as hard as you can that it's okay to share and not scheme everything out like a lone mastermind

JIMIN:

His best qualities are also his greatest flaws

Meaning he cares about everyone

And so gets caught up in other people's problems

More than once has come late at night because "a friend needed help"

Worries a lot about everything

If you're not in a good mental state or prone to sickness and negativity he at times makes it worse by constant nagging and frequent anxiety

Also his greatest quality - never leaving anyone behind

Hence why he has problems with giving space

He thinks he's abandoning you when in reality you just want to be alone with your thoughts

Has a bit of a temper

And does hold grudges if they have a reasonable basis

Say if in anger you say something hurtful about his personality

He'll remark sharply about it even weeks later

"Guess I'm just too clingy."

Another stomper

Takes things a bit too personally that are not even meant for him

If you don't share something from your past especially bad or traumatic he'll have this knee-jerk reaction of:

"So you don't trust me enough?'

Needs attention and praise which can be draining

Especially when you just give it and then he goes on to be extremely self-critical and brings himself down once more

Another roller of the eyes!

Gets stand-offish when jealous or irritated making sharp comments

This stems from him being sensitive because his good quality is how big his heart is only meaning that he gets it hurt a lot of times

Sometimes you think he's acting cute when he wants to be serious

Like he just wants you around to the point of reverting back to people-pleasing tendencies and playing along to your whims more than being his genuine self

Flirts with everyone which creates two bad scenarios:

Scenario A: did it on purpose thinking of it lightheartedly to have that validation that you want him but if you feel it to the point of being insecure he gets quiet, suffering from guilt

Scenario B: get annoyed especially if it's when he's working

"It's just how I have to act," cue roll of the eyes. "Do I blame you for making photocopies at work?"

"Suggesting to marry a stranger is not the same as making photocopies!"

"It's a part of my job, what's not to get?"

Same as Yoongi sometimes relies too much on drinking to get through the week, or start difficult conversations

I feel like he internalizes a lot and doesn't voice something that might start an argument even if it's needed

Of course, bottling it up only means the fight is so much catastrophic

Always comes back with this thought that "this is not right, let's fix this, okay"

TAEHYUNG:

Romanticizes relationship as a whole too much

Maybe even romanticizes you to an extent

But when reality gets to him, he shuts down

Gets disappointed in you which is not your fault

He realizes you're not at fault for not being the version he constructed but he can't chase the feeling away that quickly

Switches moods a lot and from 100 to 0 at that

Prone to getting into moods a lot of days

I think he feels intensely

Also prone to judgment

now HEAR ME OUT

He has to be on guard literally all the time, assess whether someone talks to him out of personal gain or because they want to

So even if something, something as minuscule as a stray glance tickles his gut feeling, he trusts it entirely and so sometimes casts a judgment upon a perfectly normal stranger

"Come on, man, they're just living their life."

He only scowls in return

His kidlike nature means he's bad at taking criticism, he's also sensitive to it due to getting a lot of hate for everything he does

So instead of simply listening to it objectively, he lets it get to his heart and pouts in silence

THE SILENCE!

Not to mention the infamous dumpling incident, but I just know he commits to silent treatment like no one else

Has a hard time admitting his wrongs as much as he wants for both of you to make peace

He's down to earth but does get caught up in glitz and glamour

Fancy events, designer things, celebrity lifestyle etc.

If you don't enjoy that or even have a hard time with that he can once again get upset about it by immediately taking it close to heart and translating it to you being dissatisfied with him despite it being another matter entirely

I guess in a way he's bad at controlling his emotions and goes with them and gut instinct than pure logic

Has a lot of friends with which he wants to spend a lot of time means sometimes he's out too long for your liking and sometimes cancels plans to be with them rather than you

Which is fine but he does feel unhappy if you do the same thing

If you cancel date night to go out with your friends he doesn't say it but he might think something along the line "I already have so little time to spend with you, you can always talk to your friends at any other time"

His "go with the flow" can induce anxiety if you're someone who likes to plan

The way he remains calm and happy would could cause someone a migraine fr

Like me

The way he got lost in Norway and he just hopped along the road like?? Boi, you're not Dorothy on Yellow Brick Road!

Sometimes his casual optimism seems careless and childish as good-natured as it is

JUNGKOOK:

First of all, certainly doesn't have the best gage on people

I'm not going to say much as I feel I can't express it in a well-worded manner

But cuts too much slack to people based on a general opinion that often is quite biased

Always assumes that what he's going to say will be viewed as awkward so he stays silent in most cases

Is a bit spoiled so throws a fuss when he doesn't get his way

Has lowkey, lowkey!, issue with control

Because he's so driven I feel he's used to settling on a certain vision and then doing it all to achieve it

So if you're someone who changes directions mid-way or realizes this is not interesting to me at all and abandons it, his vein bursts

He changes his behaviour around the people whose approval he wants so it makes him a sort of a social chameleon though not necessarily a people pleaser

Brushes off all concerns about his health with "I know better"

"I've been doing this a long time, I know what I'm doing"

When clearly this behaviour is detrimental to his health

And to add salt to the injury will absolutely flame you if you do that as well

If you're being a hazard to your own health - not eating, cutting sleep etc. goes berserk and literally scolds you as being childish and irresponsible even if he does exactly the same

His perfectionism creates churning anger and envy

Which I don't think he would dump upon you but instead he becomes reserved and distant, investing more and more time to prevent a flaw that is perceived only in his mind

He still sometimes finds being alone with you awkward because in his mind he's not embodying his on-stage persona - cocky, confident and sexually bold - and so you must be disappointed in him

In turn that only makes his awkwardness and shyness a hundred times worse because now he's insecure about it as well

Is not keen to go out or enjoy "high" culture the same as Yoongi but instead of going along, he'll whine incessantly about whether it's necessary for you to go because he knows he's not going and sticks to it

Jealous and possessive which doesn't translate to being angry or loud but more so whining and scowling

But sometimes even that is not appreciated especially if the person involved is clearly just a friend

He sometimes doesn't quite register when he's being mean or when his playfulness crosses a line

Sometimes naturally expects you to accommodate him more than you're willing because that's something the guys have done due to their endless soft spot for him

So if you stay firm he sulks and becomes moody

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #jin x reader #jin x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jimin x reader #jimin x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts reaction #bts angst

[bettsfic]

hi betts!

i’ve been a fan of yours for years now (training wheels is one of my favorite stories— not just fics. stories— ever, and i really admire your style. as a writer myself, i want to ask how you’re able to keep your motivation up to complete your projects? i feel like i start out so motivated when i fall in love with an idea, but once that fevered haze fades, it’s almost impossible for me to get the motivation i need to write. i have a few wips that i feel so guilty about not finishing/not wanting to finish/wanting to finish but being unable to get the inspiration to. so, in short, how do you maintain the motivation to finish your wips?

thank you so much! i'm glad to hear it; training wheels is still very dear to me.

first, if you want a step by step guide to finishing your wips, i wrote a tutorial earlier this year in my newsletter.

also as i've said elsewhere, i believe it's more important to follow your inspiration and interest where it takes you even if it means not finishing things. one of the reasons i love fanfic is because it's the only genre i can think of where you get to read unfinished works and be present during the writing of them.

but you asked about *my* motivation to finish things, and i'll say it's taken me a long time to build the endurance necessary not only to complete big projects but also complete them to my satisfaction. in my experience, the better you are at finishing things, the worse you become at starting them, and so whereas i used to have a million wips and ideas happening at once, now i can see the ridiculous endeavor ahead of me and pick my battles more knowledgeably.

also, i don't finish everything, especially not right away. sometimes i sit years on a story before i eventually come back to it. but i've found that it's inevitable that when i put something down that i care about, i'll come back around to it when i'm ready. it's not something i have to force. my attention and interest bounces around all over the place but the things i love, i love forever. so i'll always come back around to them.

most importantly--and this is really very important--i lie to myself.

here are the two main lies i tell myself:

"this is the best thing i've ever written," and

"i'm almost done."

being a little delusional is a huge benefit as a writer. if you're too honest with yourself nothing can get done. but i've always had a natural talent for convincing myself of things that aren't true and although that's gotten me in a lot of trouble in all other aspects of my life, in writing it keeps me just far enough away from reality that i can finish things.

the process is something like this:

vague story idea!

will probably be very small, the shortest story i have ever written in fact

begin writing

feels good, feels organic

no no that's not right, bad vibes

start over

ohhh i see what i'm trying to do

outline the tiniest, easiest outline i have ever made. five bullet points. this happens, and then this and this, and the story ends. EASY

will finish by tomorrow, probably

write write write

will finish by tomorrow, probably

write write write

definitely tomorrow, almost done

check word count. 25k. uh oh

doesn't matter, almost done. have *checks* four out of five bullet points to go

write write write

five point bullet outline no longer effective

re-outline. five points turns into five pages. uh oh

check word count. 60k. big yikes

but! almost done! will finish tomorrow, probably

write write write

get stuck? how? but the outline...

the outline is ineffective. re-outline.

check word count. 100k. :(

almost done :)

a plot knot arises. spend six hours staring at a wall to undo the plot knot

plot knot is more insidious than expected. open new document. start over

*now* i'm almost done

rewrite, restructure, reorganize

check word count. 20k. :(

write write write

check word count. 200k. :((

weeks-long fugue state during which i am god

awaken to filthy apartment. i have not eaten a vegetable in many days. i have not seen the sun.

eat a broccoli

go outside

am i living? am i truly living? is this all life is? am i loved? am i worth loving?

return to safety of fictional world to avoid existential despair

write write write

will finish by tomorrow, probably

so it's really less about motivation to finish and more about motivation to chase down an increasingly elusive feeling of joy through immersion into worlds of my own making and control. it's way easier to run away from something than toward it.

#writing advice #motivation #process #listen i'm not saying i have a healthy relationship with writing #if you can do it healthier than i do that's what i recommend

[skz317cb97]

Chan x Thick female reader

Word count: 9.5k 😬

Synopsis: You can't believe your dumb luck when you see your gorgeous blind date walk in but he seems disinterested in being there during your dinner conversation or lack thereof more like it. You're so ready to leave when the check comes but he offers to drive you home. When Chan finally admits why he was so quiet during the date you have a hard time believing it. Will there be a date number two or were you right about blind dating all along.

A/N: 18+ only! This is the fifth installment of the 'Thick reader series'. I hope you all enjoy this one! I've seen so much feed back on the others about people relating to these mc's and its bitter sweet for me. I'm glad you're all feeling represented and valid but I don't like that it means that we still deal with so much hate and fat phobia in the world. No matter your size you're beautiful and worthy of a beautiful life! If you enjoy this please leave a like, comment, reblog, shoot me an ask what ever! The feedback from this series has been so inspiring! Thank you! As always warnings and smut below the cut.

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY strong language/cursing, oral (f&m receiving), a little spitting, protected piv sex (use condoms kids), praise and pet names (beautiful, baby girl of course), coming in mouth/cum eating. I think that's everything but if I missed something please let me know and I'll add it immediately!

You had NEVER spent so much time and effort preparing for a date in your life. When your friend Sarah, who had set up the blind date you had agreed to, told you the restaurant you were meeting your date at was the fancy new Italian place, you decided to go all out. If not now; then when? You were perpetually single but it had not been for a lack of trying on your part. You had all but given up on the whole dating thing when Sarah told you about her friend Chan, how he never went out, and how perfect she thought you two would be for each other.  

You didn’t like the idea of blind dates. Going in cold, not knowing what the other person was like or looked like. It seemed like a recipe for disaster, especially for you. You had been on those dates, the ones where the guy you met from whatever random dating app you matched on would walk in, take one look, see you were a thicker girl than they realized and then you would have to sit through the disappointed looks and the forced pleasantries during the only date you would be having with them.  

You were certain Sarah wouldn’t even be friends with a jerk let alone try and set you up on a date with one, so you agreed but she hadn’t told you much about him other than his name was Chan and that he was a nice guy. Had she told him about you? The idea of him walking in and getting another disappointed look made your stomach turn with anxiety. It was one of the reasons you had stopped dating in the first place and it was also another reason you went all out getting ready. You trusted Sarah and if she thought you would be good together you wanted to make the best first impression you could. 

The day before your date you went to the spa and got pampered, a facial, mani, pedi, waxed, the works. The day of, you took a long hot shower to try and relieve a little of the stress you were still feeling. You dried your hair and put it up in a bun, you didn’t bother with the tendrils of hair that wouldn’t go back, just letting them fall around your neck and face. Your makeup wasn’t too over the top but you did highlight and contour. A little blush, black wing liner, some mascara, and a bright red lip and you were done with makeup.  

It was time to put on the dress you’d gone out and bought especially for the occasion. Normally you’d grab whatever little black dress you managed to feel comfortable enough in. This time you had found a wine-colored velvet bodycon dress. Definitely WAY out of your comfort zone typically but when you tried it on it fit you perfectly, which didn’t happen often for a big girl in a department store, so you decided you had to have it. You put on your black heels, a spray of your expensive perfume, that you only pulled out for special occasions, and you were out the door and headed to the restaurant you were meeting Chan at. 

That’s where you were at now. Seated at a table in probably the most elegant restaurant you had ever stepped foot in, waiting on your date that was now... you looked at the clock by the bar area. Twenty minutes late. You bit at your painted lips nervously and felt like everyone's eyes were on you. Watching the poor chubby girl wait for a date that was most likely, not showing up. They weren’t watching but it didn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. You told yourself you’d give him ten more minutes and if he didn’t show you would just leave. No way were you staying to eat if you got stood up by this guy.

About five minutes later you saw a man walking at a quick pace into the restaurant and up to the hostess. You were positive, no question, he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was in all black. A nice tailored pair of slacks that fit him perfectly, a suit vest, a suit jacket, and a little silver chain connecting the two that matched the chain and earrings he was wearing. He had no shirt and the low cut of the vest allowed a healthy view of his chiseled chest underneath. You were positive about another thing, there was no way HE was be the date Sarah had set you up with.  

When the hostess pointed over to your table and the man’s eyes followed her finger until they landed on you, your heart stopped. He looked you over and when his face fell your stomach turned. Fantastic. Not only was your worst nightmare happening but it was happening with an Adonis. Perfect. You half expected him to turn around and just leave but he made his way over to the table you were at. The closer he got, the better you could see the finer details of his face. His perfectly arched eyebrows, his soft brown eyes, his strong broad nose and his full pouty lips, his defined jaw. When he gave you a half smile you saw a dimple pop up in his cheek and his perfect white teeth peek. He was so handsome he couldn’t possibly be real. 

“y/n? I’m Chan, I uh... I’m so sorry I’m late.” You stood and took his hand to shake. He awkwardly leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. He seemed to be looking anywhere BUT at you. 

“Yes, hi Chan it’s nice to meet you. Sarah has told me such nice things about you.” He let out a little nervous laugh. 

“Oh, has she?” No, she really hadn’t but you gave a small nod and sat back down as Chan sat in the chair across from you. 

“She really didn’t tell me much about you.” Chan admitted. You cringed. Great. You shrugged and gave him a weak smile. 

“Oh, probably because there isn’t really much to tell.” He nodded quietly and opened the menu. When the waiter came over for your drink orders Chan quickly ordered. 

“Whiskey on ice. A double please.” You stopped yourself from chewing at your lips again as the waiter turned to you for your order. 

“Oh, just a glass of red wine for me and a water please.” The waiter bowed and left to fill your drink orders leaving you and Chan in awkward silence again. When you looked up from your menu Chan actually made eye contact with you for a split second before looking back at his own menu again. He didn’t seem to want to talk, didn’t want to look at you, what were you even doing there. It was going even worse than you thought it would and you could practically feel the disappointment oozing from him. When the waiter came back with your drinks Chan grabbed his and drank most of it quickly. God, he has to be drunk to even sit here, you thought to yourself. This was a mistake. You felt a lump forming in your throat and you cleared it, unintentionally getting Chan’s attention.  

“I uh... will you excuse me for a moment.” Chan’s eyes were on his menu again already and he nodded in reply. You pressed your lips together tightly and excused yourself to the bathroom. As soon as you were alone in a stall you couldn’t help but let a few tears go. You were so embarrassed. This is exactly what you worried about, exactly why you had stopped dating. Even putting in all the effort you had to look nice, he was clearly disappointed and you wondered how the hell Sarah thought this was a good idea. You sniffled a bit, wiped the couple of tears you had allowed to fall, pulled out your phone and called her. She answered quickly, excited for an update. 

“Hey girl! How’s the date? He’s cute yea?” You took a shaky breath trying to compose yourself so you didn’t start bawling the minute you spoke and she could tell you were upset. 

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong?!” She asked concerned. 

“It’s terrible Sarah! Why on earth did you think HE would be interested in ME?! He was almost thirty minutes late and he looks so disappointed and barely talks and won’t look at me. It's awful Sarah, I knew this would happen. We haven’t ordered food yet; I think I’m just gonna leave. I’m not forcing him to stay on a date he clearly doesn’t want to be on. I can’t sit through another date like that.” Sarah quickly tried to talk you out of that idea. 

“No no, don’t do that. He’s just shy, give him a bit to warm up to you. I swear if you just give him a chance you’ll see.” You let out a sigh. 

“Fine.” You hung up with Sarah, left the stall, and went back to the table. When you sat down Chan gave you a strange look. 

“Everything okay?” You kept your head down but nodded and picked up your menu again. Shortly after coming back to the table the waiter came over for your food orders. Chan ordered some pasta dish with vodka? You weren’t sure, spaghetti and alfredo were the expanse of your knowledge when it came to pasta dishes. Then the waiter turned to you for your order. 

“Uh, I’ll have the salad with balsamic vinaigrette.” You closed your menu and Chan gave you a funny look. 

“That’s all?” You nodded again, making no effort to make eye contact anymore and handed your menu to the waiter. 

“Yes sorry, I don’t have much of an appetite.” That was a lie. You hadn’t eaten all day letting your nerves get the best of you. You were starving but eating a big meal in front of someone that seemed put out by you didn’t sound that appealing. You sat in relative silence as you both waited on your food and Chan ordered another whiskey. You picked at the napkin by your plate and did your best to not look dejected but it was difficult and the tightness in your chest getting was getting worse as every awkward minute passed. You were thankful when the food showed up because at least then you’d have a reason to not be speaking to each other.  

Chan dug into his pasta dish, which did look good. He seemed to have a healthy appetite. You took a few bites of your salad and pushed the rest around your plate as you finished your third glass of wine. As Chan finished up his meal you asked to be excused again. He finished the bite he had in his mouth quickly. 

“Of course.” You got up and made your way to the bathroom to gather yourself a bit and freshen up your lipstick. As soon as you were in the bathroom you called Sarah again. 

“Hey! So?” You sighed heavily. 

“Just... when I’m making you sit on the phone with me later while I cry about this just deal with it okay?” Sarah felt bad that it wasn’t going well. She had really thought the two of you would hit it off. 

“Later, you can cry on the phone with me as much as you need. I’m sorry. I love you sweetie.” You took another deep breath. 

“Don’t apologize, I love you too. I’ve gotta get back.” You both said your goodbyes and hung up. Before you left you looked in the mirror to do your lipstick and you noticed the slight trail of mascara under your eyes from crying earlier. Oh great! No wonder he asked if you were okay. You fought off the urge to cry again, wiped the mascara off from under your eyes, and fixed your lipstick before heading back to the table to get the rest of this over with. Chan was putting his phone away as you came back to sit down. 

“I ordered you another glass of wine.” You nodded and gave Chan a weak smile. 

“Thank you.” Whatever helped get you through the rest of this absolute train wreck. 

“The waiter asked about dessert, I wasn’t sure... I mean you didn’t eat much of your dinner,” Chan pointed at your plate. 

“So, I wasn’t sure if you wanted sweets.” You shook your head no. 

“No, it’s fine, when he comes back we can just pay the check. I’m sure you’re ready to go.” Chan frowned. You had been upset the whole date. 

“Okay, while you finish your wine, I’ll pay the tab.” You declined the offer. 

“No. I hardly ate my food.” And drank half a bottle of wine, you had thought to yourself.  

“You don’t have to pay for me, I can get my own.” Chan raised his hand shaking his head. 

“No. Let me please. It’s the least I can do for being late.” You went ahead and accepted not wanting to drag out an awkward argument about the bill any further. Your wine came and Chan gave the waiter his card to pay the bill. You sat there sipping your drink and realized Chan seemed to be watching you closely now. You glanced up and when you made eye contact you straightened up a bit and he smiled at you. You forced a smile back but it was obvious that it was not genuine and Chan felt awful. 

Chan NEVER dated. Ever and all his friends knew that. So, when Sarah told him she knew someone that would be perfect for him he agreed to a blind date, trusting her. He was on edge as soon as he found out you had agreed to the date as well. He couldn’t sleep the night before and he thought he might puke day of he was so nervous. When he went to get dressed it was a disaster, even with his friend Felix’s help. 

“Black black black why the fuck is everything I own black. FUCK. I’m gonna look like an undertaker no matter what I wear.” Felix laughed at Chan. 

“It’s your closet man don’t ask me. Besides that, you look good in black.” After Chan rifled through the closet frustrated a bit longer Felix walked over and pushed Chan out of the way. 

“Okay maniac, where are you going for dinner again?” Chan huffed out a breath. 

“That fancy new Italian place. Sarah picked it.” Felix nodded and shifted through the sea of black clothing hanging in front of him pulling out a black pair of slacks, a black vest, a black suit jacket and pushed them towards Chan. 

“Here. This.” Chan looked at the clothes and then at Felix. 

“What about a shirt.” Felix quirked and eye brow and shook his head. 

“Trust me, no shirt, just that. No way you’ll look like an undertaker in that.” Chan was about to argue but then he noticed the clock. 

“FUCK! I’m supposed to be there now!” He pushed Felix out of his room, quickly got dressed and raced to the restaurant. When Chan was walking up, he had glanced through the window trying to see if he could spot his date. At one of the tables, he saw a woman in a red dress, her hair up in an elegant looking bun and delicate whisps of hair around her face and neck. Chan’s jaw dropped. He shook his head and got himself together, he wouldn’t be that lucky, your husband must be in the bathroom. He got it together and headed in, he didn’t want to keep his date waiting any longer. He hurried in and straight up to the hostess station. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m meeting someone and I’m running a bit late. The reservation is for Chan and y/n?” The hostess nodded, smiling. 

“Yes, sir the rest of your party is already seated, just over there.” The hostess pointed in the direction of the table where the woman in the red dress was and Chan’s face fell. You were even more stunning than he’d realized. You were clearly, naturally, very beautiful and all dressed up like that, Chan was speechless. He gave you a little smile as he walked over. 

He had gotten as far as introducing himself and apologizing and then he was trying to be smooth and kiss your cheek but got nervous half way in and only gave you a quick peck. Even then he couldn’t get himself to look you in the eyes again after. When you said Sarah had said nice things about him, he felt a little cheated. 

“She didn’t tell me much about you.” He admitted. Sarah hadn’t really told him anything about you other than a name, you were sweet and that you would hit it off.  

“Oh, probably because there isn’t really much to tell.” He picked up the menu thinking about what to say to strike up a conversation, drawing a total blank and just nodding. It was like his brain went into fight or flight and one hundred percent chose flight. The waiter came over for your drink orders and Chan nervously blurted his order out quickly, then immediately realized he probably should have let you order first, like a gentleman. He was internally kicking himself.  

As soon as his drink touched the table Chan grabbed it and almost downed it all in one go. He noticed you glancing at him and that was the only reason he hadn’t. He didn’t want you to think he was a drunk. He rarely drank actually, but he needed something to take the edge off and maybe loosen him up a bit too. You were so pretty he was having a hard time making his brain work. He was always bad at talking to pretty girls. You took a sip of your wine and then excused yourself to the bathroom. 

Chan was waiting patiently for you to come back from the bathroom and he was determined to loosen up a bit and stop acting so weird. You’re just an incredibly attractive woman, he can talk to you, he can. Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. When he took it out, he saw he had a text from Sarah and he opened it.  

Sarah: What the fuck are you doing? 

Chan: What do you mean? 

Chan: Nothing! I swear! What’s wrong? 

The three little dots popped up as Sarah typed out her response but you were coming back to the table before Chan could get a reply. He put his phone back in his pocket. When you sat down, he noticed your mascara had run a bit, it looked like maybe you had been crying.  

“Everything okay?” You had nodded your head yes but Chan knew it wasn’t. He was being too quiet, he knew he was, but every time he thought he’d worked up the courage to start a conversation or ask a question he’d look up at you and lose his confidence just as fast. The waiter came over and took your meal orders. Chan got penne alla vodka because it was the only thing he actually knew on the menu and only because of a cooking show and you ordered a salad.  

“Is that all?” Chan was surprised. He’d been so nervous all day he hadn’t eaten a thing so he was starving now. He had thought maybe you would have been as well but you apologized saying you weren’t very hungry. Chan nodded and motioned for the waiter to order another whiskey. He could tell you were not happy with how the date was going. That was obvious. Sarah had probably promised some interesting outgoing guy, the guy Sarah knew and saw, and here he was too shy to talk to a beautiful girl. He had managed to say maybe twenty words the whole time you had waited for your meals. Mostly answers to your basic questions, trying to pull conversation from him. 

When the food showed up you both seemed thankful for the distraction. Chan was starving, he couldn’t wait another second and started eating. He tried not to scarf it down like a stray dog. Which was hard because it was really good. You seemed to not be very interested in your meal and Chan wondered if you just didn’t like eating around people you don’t know. Some people were like that. Chan was getting to the end of his plate, there was definitely enough that it should have been two bites but it was just so good. Chan scooped it up and ate it all in one. 

“I’m just gonna freshen up, if you’ll excuse me.” The first words uttered since the food arrived and Chan’s mouth was full. He felt like an idiot. He chewed his bite quickly. 

“Of course.” You left for the bathroom and Chan wiped his mouth rolling his eyes at himself. The waiter came over and asked about dessert for the two of you. Chan wasn’t sure. You might be more interested in something sweet. He decided to wait and ask you but ordered you both another drink. When the waiter walked away Chan’s phone buzzed and he had remembered that Sarah had been texting him. He grabbed it and opened their texts. He saw the one she sent from before first. 

Sarah: TALK to her! She thinks you’re not interested. I saw how she looked tonight, Chan. You’d be stupid not to be interested. TALK! 

When he saw the next texts that had just come through from Sarah, he felt awful. 

Sarah: Chan, I can’t believe you! She’s so upset! Why don’t you like her? You haven’t even given her a chance and really talked to her! 

Sarah: If she actually cries on the phone with me tonight because of you, I’m punching you. 

Oh no! You weren’t upset because Chan was an awkward dork you were upset because you thought he didn’t like you! How could he not? He didn’t have a chance to message Sarah back before you were coming back to the table again. When you sat down Chan tried to be more outgoing immediately.  

“I ordered you another glass of wine.” Chan noticed you had cleaned up the mascara from earlier. 

“Thank you.” He was determined to not let this whole date go down in flames because he was too shy to talk to a beautiful woman. 

“The waiter asked about dessert, I wasn’t sure... I mean you didn’t eat much of your dinner,” Chan pointed at your plate. 

“So, I wasn’t sure if you wanted sweets.” You shook your head no. 

“No, it’s fine, when he comes back, we can just get the check. I’m sure you’re ready to go.” Chan hated the fact that he made you feel that he was put out or disinterested.  

“Okay, while you finish your wine, I’ll pay the tab.” You immediately said no. 

“No. I hardly ate my food. You don’t have to pay for me, I can get my own.” Chan wasn’t going to take no for an answer on this. 

“No. Let me please. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Chan was glad when you agreed without further argument. The waiter came over with your drinks. Chan handed him his card and told him he just needed the bill. As the waiter walked away you picked up your glass of wine and sipped at it and Chan finally allowed himself to look at you, not just glance, but really look. God you were gorgeous, it unnerved him but he had to get over that. You noticed him looking and looked up at him. Chan smiled but the smile you gave him back was so forced it made him feel awful. The waiter came back with Chan’s card and you started to get up to leave while Chan was still signing the receipt. 

“Thank you for dinner Chan, it was nice meeting you.” You bowed as Chan finished signing quickly and stood up. 

“Oh, it was really nothing at all. Did you drive?” You shook your head. 

“No uber.” Chan squeezed the back of his neck trying to release the tension he felt. 

“Well, uh... I could take you home.” He’s a nice guy. You were sure he was only offering to be polite, so you would be polite and not make him. 

“It's fine I can just uber, you can go. I won’t have to wait long.” Chan shook his head. 

“Let me make sure you get home safely. To make up for being late.” You didn’t know why he was so adamant about it. Wasn’t the dinner awkward enough? You needed to have an awkward car ride too? 

“That’s why you paid for dinner.” You reminded him. Oh that was right. That was why you had let him pay for dinner. 

“Well then just for my peace of mind. Please?” He gave you this look and even as uncomfortable as the dinner had been, he was trying to be nice and it was a face you couldn’t say no to. 

“Okay Chan. You can take me home.” He put his hand behind you but not on you and offered for you to lead the way. Once you were outside he pointed to a black Fiat compact. You looked at the car and then him. You wouldn’t have guessed a man that looked like such a playboy, was driving that car like that. 

“What?” He asked smiling. You shook your head. 

“Nothing just... I expected you to drive a Mercedes or Maserati or something.” Chan scrunched his nose. 

“Nah never. I don’t need all that. Wade here is plenty of car for me.” He tapped the top of the car. It was your turn to make a funny face. 

“Wade?” Chan nodded with a little smile on his face. 

“Yea! A car has gotta have a name!” He opened your door and helped you into the vehicle then hurried around and got in the driver's seat. He closed his door and it was a bit intoxicating being in such a confined space with him. You could smell his cologne and you were close enough you could make out a few little freckles on his face. You didn’t realize but you had started staring. You couldn’t help it. He was so handsome. It was easy to get lost in the details of his facial features. Chan looked over at you and gave you a little smile. He seemed to have loosened up a little and had said more than he had the whole night, walking to the car.  

“So! Where are we going?” He asked as he started the car. You gave him your address and he typed it into his navigation before taking off. Silence filled the car but it wasn’t as awkward of a silence as before. Maybe because there was music softly playing or maybe because he had opened up a bit. Whatever the reason it didn’t seem as tense to you. Chan on the other hand was doing a marvelous job at pretending to not be freaking out. He had managed to talk to you and not come off like a complete idiot. It only took as long as pulling out of the parking lot though, when Chan could smell your perfume, it started to invade his senses. Part of his brain was ready to go flight on him again but by the time he pulled up to your place he’d gotten control of his faculties. He parked the car and sat for a minute trying to figure out where to start with his apology for his odd behavior at dinner. Just as he was about to, you spoke. 

“Well, thank you for the ride home Chan and again for dinner. Have a good night.” You started to open your car door and Chan was quickly losing his chance. 

“I’m sorry!” He just blurted it out, shouted it really. You jumped a little and your hand fell away from the door. You turned to him with a confused look on your face. 

“For what?” He was a nice guy, you figured it was a ‘sorry you’re just not my type’ kind of apology. 

“I’m sorry for being so quiet during dinner. I... I don’t date. EVER. I was worried.... I mean, well, I can be kind of a dork.” You scoffed and looked at him incredulously. 

“A dork? Do you see yourself?! Who on earth... you’re a walking Korean Ken doll okay? You could be the biggest nerd on the planet and I don’t think it would bother anyone. Certainly not me.” Chan looked down at himself. He was in such a hurry when he left since he was late, he really hadn’t taken a good look at the outfit he had put on. He was usually in gym clothes or sweats and hoodies, baggy clothes that didn’t show his body at all. He hadn’t even thought about what he looked like in the outfit Felix had picked him, he had just hoped he looked nice. Apparently, Felix had chosen well by your words. Chan laughed a little nodding. 

“Fair enough but never the less I hurt your feelings so I should apologize.” You shook your head and furrowed your brow. 

“You didn’t-” Chan raised one of his perfect eyebrows at you. 

“Sarah texted me when you were in the bathroom.” Oh you were going to kill her. 

“Oh.” You looked down and picked at your finger nails. 

“Even if she hadn’t though, I... noticed a little mascara under your eyes when you came back from the bathroom.” You buried your head in your hands hiding your face as it turned red in embarrassment. 

“If I made you cry y/n I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m just... I’m really shy and it’s worse around pretty women.” You rolled your eyes and huffed a hard breath out. 

“Right. Okay your apology is accepted but you don’t have to pander to me.” Chan didn’t know what you meant. 

“Wha... pander?” You pressed your fingers into your eyes. 

“Yes. You can say you’re not attracted to me. It was just one blind date together. I’ll survive.” Chan thought he was doing a good job at expressing how sorry he was for giving you the wrong impression. Clearly, he wasn’t doing as good of a job as he’d thought. 

“I... I’m not pandering.” His tone changed, his voice was quieter, his eyes were cast down at his steering wheel and he wrung his hands. 

“I’ve been nervous since Sarah said she had a friend she wanted me to meet. She knows I don’t go out so if she was suggesting I meet a friend of hers, I knew it was probably going to be someone worthwhile. I trust Sarah. I am attracted to you y/n. Very much so and if you’ll give me a second chance, I’d like to actually talk some, get to know you, and maybe... go out again?” He wanted to see you again, after that disaster of a date?! 

“You want to go out again?” You asked shocked and he nodded looking at you hopeful. 

“Can I be frank with you?” Chan asked and you shook your head. 

“I saw you through the window as I was walking up and I thought, God whoever she’s there with is a lucky bastard. I was positive I was not that lucky bastard. Then I walked in and the hostess pointed right over at your table and I realized holy shit! I am! You’re so beautiful y/n and I have no doubt if your friends with Sarah you’re a good person. Sarah doesn’t have the patience to deal with assholes. Well except me.” You put your hand on Chan’s, he looked over at you again and you shook your head at him. 

“You’re not an asshole.” Chan smiled at you and his dimples popped out making you smile back. 

“Look, I know it wasn’t the original date but I have a little roof top garden and a bottle of wine. If you want to come up, we can sit and talk for a little while? Get to know each other?” Chan’s smile grew times ten, scrunching his eyes up into little crescents. 

“Absolutely! I’d love to!” You both got out of the car and you lead Chan to your building. When you walked into your condo you kicked off your heels and let your hair down. Chan couldn’t help but watch your every move, just being in your space, you already seemed more relaxed. When you looked over and noticed him staring at you butterflies erupted in your stomach. When Chan saw you look he started scanning the room like he had been looking at the décor of your apartment and you smiled to yourself a bit. 

“Would you mind grabbing the wine from the fridge while I get the glasses?” Chan’s attention was drawn back to you by your question and he nodded. 

“Oh sure!” Chan followed you into your kitchen and grabbed the wine like you asked, when he turned back around he saw you reaching on your tip toes for the glasses that were just out of your reach. Your dress riding up a bit exposing more of your thighs and he was distracted for a split second before he came up behind you and reached up easily with his long arms. Chan grabbed two of them between his fingers by the stem. He was so close to you so he could reach them; his chest pressed up against you. You could feel his warmth of his exposed chest against your back and smell his cologne again. 

“Here, I’ve got these too. You lead the way.” You were blushing when he stepped back and smiled at him. You led him through your living room grabbing the throw blanket off the back of your couch on the way out. 

“Just in case, sometimes it can get a little breezy up there.” You slid on your house shoes, opened the window to your fire escape, and lead Chan up to the section of the roof you were permitted your garden. He stepped through a latticed arch way and it was like he was in a mini paradise in the middle the city. Chan couldn’t believe it. 

“You... you did all this?!” You nodded shyly. 

“I don’t really do much to it these days honestly, it kind of takes care of its self for the most part now.” Chan’s eyes were overwhelmed by the colors of the flowers the way they weaved together creating a private oasis. In the middle was a wide flat swing with an overstuffed cushion. You walked over to it and tossed the blanket on before crawling on yourself. 

“Give me those and you get on.” Chan handed you the bottle and then the glasses and kicked off his shoes as he climbed on to the unusual swing. When he got settled, he looked at you and smiled the biggest toothy smile. It made you melt inside. He grabbed the bottle of wine and started to open it, pouring you both a glass. 

“What even is this thing?” Chan laughed. 

“It’s just a swing. I come up here to read and stargaze, think, I like doing those things laying down so...” You motioned to the swing and Chan nodded in understanding. 

“I love it.” He exclaimed. You blushed as Chan put the cork back in the bottle and leaned over to set it on the ground. You handed him one of the glasses and then the conversation just seemed to flow out of the two of you. Careers, hobbies, siblings, what you envisioned with your futures, you talked about everything. As the two of you talked you both got more comfortable, more relaxed, sitting closer together. Then Chan’s hand sneakily found yours and he gently played with your fingers as you both continued on and on, music, movies, books. You started getting cold and Chan put the blanket you brought around your bare shoulders, then mustered up all his courage and put his arm around you too, warming you. Your cheeks flushed and you smiled leaning into his body more and you both continued to talk.  

Eventually Chan’s legs were stretched out and he was leaning back on his hands looking up at the stars. You were curled up with the blanket your head resting on one of his thighs looking up at the night sky too. Somehow you both were still asking questions, laughing, learning about each other’s likes and dislikes. It had been the most tense, awkward date in the beginning and now all you could think about was how you had probably never been so comfortable around a date, ever. You noticed your phone light up and grabbed it pressing the button, lighting up the screen. 

“Oh wow! It’s midnig- Oh shit. Do you have missed texts and calls from Sarah?” Chan grabbed his phone and looked. 

“Yeap. We’re in big trouble I’m guessing.” You nodded and pressed the call button by her name. It rang once, maybe, and she answered. 

“What the hell!? I’ve been worried sick!” You felt bad that you had forgotten to text her and let her know you were okay. 

“I’m sorry! Chan brought me home and we’re up in the garden having some wine and we lost track of time. I’m so sorry I made you worry Sarah.” She was instantly calmer knowing you were okay and even happier that it sounded like you and Chan had finally clicked. 

“Wait, he’s still there?” She asked with a hint of suggestion in her voice. 

“Yeeeaaasss....” That was all you said with Chan sitting right there. 

“Mhmm. Be safe, have fun.” You rolled your eyes and hung up on your friend. Chan smiled at you and it was as if stars had fallen from the sky and into his eyes. 

“Why do you look at me like that?” Chan’s smile transformed into a smirk. 

“Like what?” You shrugged unsure of how to word it. 

“Like... I’m so... interesting to you.” Chan scooted in closer to you again and twirled a bit of your hair between two fingers. 

“You are interesting y/n...” You nudged him shaking your head, not accepting the non-answer. 

“I look at you like that y/n. Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I saw exactly why Sarah thought I would like you as soon as I laid eyes on you and now getting to really talk to you, getting to know you, I knew I was right to trust her. You’re talented and intelligent, kind hearted and I just really feel like I grazed over that beautiful part at first.” Your face got warm. You couldn’t help but smile and you were about to look away when Chan cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you gently. You were surprised at first. Even with the hand holding and cuddling, you hadn’t really expected him to kiss you. His lips were soft and warm, you leaned into them. He pulled back quickly keeping it respectful. 

“I’m sorry I... I just had to do that once tonight.” You smiled and pushed a piece of Chan’s hair that had fallen forward back before running your fingers softly down the side of his face and holding his strong jaw in your palm looking into his beautiful deep brown eyes. 

“Only once?” The dimple popping smile appeared on his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. This time both of your lips parted and slotted together. He tasted like the wine you both had drank. The tip of his tongue teased your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss as your fingers carded through his hair and you held on. The two of you carried on for a bit. Lips and tongues battling for dominance, hands roaming over clothes until Chan pulled away. 

“I’m sorry. I am, I’m trying to be respectful. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to pressure you but if we keep at this I... I might just lose my mind.” You sat up on your knees moving closer to Chan letting the blanket fall off your shoulders. You ran your hands across his broad shoulders, sliding your fingers up his neck and into his hair at the nape of his neck, you leaned in kissing him again. Chan closed his eyes and kissed you back. You started to lay back, pulling Chan on top of you. When he realized what you were doing, he stopped again. 

“y/n... we don’t... I didn’t say that so you would-” You pulled him down into another kiss silencing him before stopping and looking him in the eyes. 

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I don’t normally act like this but you are not pressuring me Chan. Anything we do tonight is because we both want to. Okay?” Chan shook his head before leaning down and tentatively kissing you again. It didn’t take long for your make out session to get heated again. Chan’s lips traveled down your jaw and neck leaving a warm wet trail of kisses against your skin. Chan’s lips met yours again in a fiery kiss and when his hips involuntarily pressed into yours you moaned into the kiss. 

“God you are so beautiful... you sound so sexy... can’t believe... can’t believe I’m touching you, kissing you...” Chan said between kissing you. Your hands went under Chan’s blazer and pushed it off.  

“More... fuck... please... more Chan.” Chan pulled at the top of your dress, pulling it down and freeing your full breasts, pleasantly surprised to find you braless. He stopped and looked at you before touching you, wanting to be sure you were okay with every step of what was happening. You gave Chan a little nod and his big hands cupped your bare breasts as he attacked your neck and chest with his lips and teeth. Your fingers found purchase in his hair again and tugged a bit when his pouty lips wrapped around one of your nipples and sucked on it. When it was perked and hard Chan let go and ran his flattened tongue over it. 

“Chan that feels really good. God!” He hummed around your other nipple as he sucked on it, then let go and teased it with the tip of his tongue. 

“You taste so good baby girl.” Your core throbbed at the sudden use of the pet name. He looked at you and raised that perfect eye brow at you again. 

“Could... could I taste... more?” Your legs instinctively wanted to press together at the idea of Chan’s head between your thighs. Your face and chest started turning red. 

“You mean...” Chan was not about to mince words anymore after the first half of the date. 

“I wanna go down on you. Will you let me eat you out? You don’t have to do anything to me, I just...” 

“Yes.” Chan stopped rambling immediately. 

“Yea?” You bit your bottom lip and nodded, smiling at him. Chan crawled down, his hands running down your body over your dress. When he got to the hem at the bottom, he gathered it under his thumbs and slowly started pushing the skirt up, exposing your white lacy panties. A wet patch already visible making them a little see-through allowing Chan a glimpse of your slit. You had never been so happy you had waxed as his fingers traced up your panties before hooking into them and sliding them down and off. You pressed your legs together and your hands came down covering yourself. Chan ran his hands gently up and down your soft thighs giving them a little squeeze.  

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you really are y/n?” You shook your head no biting your lips nervously. Chan grabbed your hands moving them away and spreading your legs so he could see how wet you were for him and then smirked. 

“Let me show you.” His lips made contact with your throbbing sex and it made your hips jerk. One of Chan’s hands splayed out on your soft tummy holding your down as his other reached and teased one of your nipples. 

“God! Chan! Oh my god that feels...” before you could tell him how well he was doing his lips puckered around your clit and he hummed in delight at the sounds you made when he started sucking on it. Between him sucking on your clit and the vibrations from him humming, you couldn’t help but try and grind up against his face, even as he firmly held you down. His free hand traveled back down your plush skin before spreading your lips. Chan stuck his tongue out and started going back and forth between a quick flicking motion with the tip and flat wet stripes before gently sucking your clit again. You gripped the cushion of the swing tightly as you felt the string inside you tighten. 

“I’m... I’m gonna... Chan... please. Don’t, don’t stop.” Your words were a breathy whisper as you begged him to push you over the precipice. He grunted with no intention on stopping, in fact your pleas made him eager to get you to your climax that much faster. The way he started going at your pussy was messy but with precision and with a flick of his tongue your world exploded. 

“Ooooooh my... fuck. Chan... fuck. I’m coming!” He slowed down and continued kissing and licking you as you twitched and shuddered through the remnants of your orgasm. When you relaxed and let out a deep breath Chan climbed back up next to you and smiled looking down at you flustered and blushing from coming. His fingers traced across your breasts gently, teasing your nipples. 

“That was so sexy baby girl. I love the way you sound when you moan my name.” He kissed your neck by your ear and it tickled, making you turn your head and look at him. He pushed a few stray hairs out of your face and you leaned up and kissed him. You sat up, gently pushing Chan to lay back and he pulled away from the kiss as you started to get between his legs. 

“You don’t have to...” You made him lay back and straddled his thighs as you started undoing the buttons of his vest, pushing it open but not off and running your hands down Chan’s firm chest and abs stopping at the waist of his pants. 

“Chan? Do you want a blow job?” Your fingers toyed with his belt a little. He swallowed hard and his ears turned bright red as he shook his head. 

“Yes. Please.” You unbuckled his belt, undid the button of his pants, slid his zipper down and Chan’s heart was already ready to beat out of his chest. You grabbed on to the waist of his pants and underwear and Chan lifted his hips up so you could pull them down. His cock sprung free from his briefs and was already so hard from just the thought of your mouth on it. You tossed Chan’s pants and underwear aside a little and kneeled next to him. He sat up a little, his fingers weaved through your hair and pulled you into another kiss. As he was distracted by kissing you your fingers gently wrapped around his shaft. Chan broke the kiss as his head fell back between his shoulders. 

“So soft. Your hands are so soft.” You squeezed him gently and started to stroke him a bit. He was the perfect size, fit nicely in your hand and above average length. You really wanted to know what he tasted like. You leaned over his cock and let a little spit drip from your mouth onto the head and spread it down his length. Chan groaned and laid the rest of the way back as you took him into your warm mouth. 

“Mmyes your mouth feels so fucking good.” He looked down at you and gathered all of your hair up, holding it away from your face so he could see his cock disappearing into your mouth again and again. Your head bobbed and Chan helped set the rhythm as you struggled to take him deeper. 

“Stick your tongue out baby, you’ll be able to take more. Fuck! You’re sucking me so well beautiful.” You did as Chan said and stuck your tongue out allowing a little extra room in the back of your throat for his cock. You gagged a little and pulled off. He kept your hair pulled back out of your face as you looked up at him and stroked him. He grabbed your hand stopping you before he came. Chan sat up and pulled you into another passionate kiss, his tongue invading your mouth immediately. He held your face and pushed his plump lips against yours softly again and again.  

“I... I want you y/n. If you don’t want to, if this is as far as you want to go tonight, that’s fine but... just... FUCK I really want you baby girl.” He grabbed your hand and weaved his fingers through yours looking at the intertwined limbs as he confessed how badly he wanted you. You pushed his hair back out of his face again. It was messy from you running your fingers through it before and his edges were starting to curl a bit from the light sweat on his forehead and temples. You ran your hand down the side of his face and he closed his eyes. 

“Do you have a condom?” It was a whisper but Chan heard it clearly. His eyes shot back open and he looked at you to make sure he actually heard what he was sure he had. You sat there on your knees your dress bunched around your midsection, biting your lip giving Chan the sweetest doe eyes. He took in every inch of you, every soft curve, every plush bit of flesh exposed to his eyes was drank in. He shook his head and you quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Not that I thought... well I just... I was a boy scout. Always prepared you know?” You laughed a little. 

“It’s okay, grab it?” Chan relaxed again and leaned over, grabbing his slacks and pulling 3 foil wrappers out of his pocket and tearing one off, tossing the others to the side. You laid back and spread your legs looking at Chan and he was certain he’d died and gone to heaven. 

“I want you Chan. Please.” He wasn’t going to make you beg, no. He ripped the condom open and rolled it down his length before grabbing your soft hips and pulling you closer so that he was nestled in between your thick thighs. You looked down and watched as Chan grabbed his cock and rubbed the head through your folds, collecting your arousal before slowly pushing the tip inside you. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as you watched him slowly bury himself into you until his hips were flush against yours. 

“Fuck! So tight, fuck! I need a second.” You nodded and ran your hands up and down Chan’s abs trying to help him relax a little. He closed his eyes and slowly started thrusting into you and it felt divine. His length and curve made it so he easily hit your g spot. Chan’s rhythm picked up and he grabbed a hold of your dress using it for leverage as he fucked you harder. Your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. 

“Feel so good Chan fuck! Harder, please!” Chan grabbed one of your breasts with his free hand, still gripping your dress around your midsection tightly, pulling you back on to his cock in tandem with every push of his hips. It felt so good but you knew you wouldn’t be able to cum like that. 

“Chan, need... fuck!” Chan slowed down rolling his hips as he continued to fuck you. 

“Need what baby girl what do you need?” You pulled him down to kiss you and welcomed his tongue tasting you again. His hips pushed into you deeper and deeper making it difficult to form the words. 

“Top... on top.” Chan smiled down at you, half fucked out underneath him. 

“You wanna ride my cock beautiful?” You nodded. 

“Fuck! Yes please!” Chan pulled out of you and laid back on the swing patting his hips. 

“Come on and ride it then baby girl.” You sat up and straddled Chan’s waist reaching back, aligning his cock with your entrance and sinking down almost taking him fully. His hands gripped your plump ass and eased you down on him the rest of the way. 

“Oh my god Chan! Yes! Fuck!” Chan squeezed your ass and started grinding you back and forth on his dick.  

“Such a good girl, fuck! Riding me so well beautiful. Does it feel good?” You braced yourself, putting your palms flat against Chan’s abs as your started riding him on your own. His hands now resting on your full hips as he watched his cock disappear between your thick ass thighs. His cock hit your g spot perfectly and the added pressure to your clit from grinding against his pubic bone had your pussy dripping. It was wet and messy and hot. 

“So fucking full Chan, you fill me up so good!” Chan gripped your dress that was still bunched up around you, lifted you, lifted his hips and started fucking you hard from below. 

“Cum for me baby girl. Let me hear you moan my name with that pretty voice again. Cum for me beautiful.” The next snap of Chan’s hips up into you sent you reeling into the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. Chan lowered his hips and you and helped your grind against him riding out your climax for as long as possible. Chan couldn’t take his eyes off you, flushed, chewing your bottom lip, full of his cock and softy, slowly rotating your hips in circles as you came down. His finger-tips rubbing you gently up and down your sides as your body buzzed.  

Chan cupped your cheek and rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip before gently pushing it in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it and sucked, swirling your tongue, giving it a similar treatment to what his cock had gotten earlier and you could feel him twitch inside you. You were locked on Chan’s dark lust hazed eyes as he chewed his lip and watched you suck on his thumb. He gently pushed down on your tongue making your mouth open a little so he could see the pink muscle inside. 

“Can I cum right here baby girl?” He let the pressure off your tongue and you wrapped your lips around the digit again, gently taking it between your teeth as you nodded your head. Chan pulled his thumb out of your mouth and held your waist as he sat up and laid you back down. Chan pulled his cock out and pulled the condom off before crawling up by your head and getting on his knees.  

“Open up for me beautiful let me see your tongue.” You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out flat as Chan spit in his hand and started stroking the head of his cock fast. When he was close he started working his shaft, pushing his tip down towards your tongue, ready to cum in your mouth. Without warning you wrapped your pretty lips around the head of his cock and sucked as you rubbed your tongue firmly against the sensitive spot at the base of his tip and hummed. 

“FUCK I’m gonna cum!” You sealed your lips around the head of Chan’s cock firmly as warm thick cum filled your mouth. He twitched and jerked as you sucked every drop he had to offer. When he pulled his cock out he saw his load of cum in your mouth for just a second before you swallowed it and laid there utterly fucked out of your mind. Chan ran his hand through your hair, leaned down and kissed you before laying down next to you and pulling you in close to his chest. You leaned over for a moment and he wasn’t sure what you were doing until you pulled the blanket you had brought up over the two of you and nuzzled back into Chan’s embrace. You both laid there looking at the stars, holding each other in the most comfortable silence of the entire night before Chan broke the silence. 

“So what are my chances at a second date?” You looked up at him, shook your head and laughed. 

@caroline-ds-world @ughbehavior @chansynie @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny

“I’d say pretty good.”   

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #chan smut #skz317cb97 thick reader series #skz317cb97 #cal ����

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Forgotten sorrows

Chapter 4

Fae!Soap X Female Reader

Rún tries to keep her emotions in check while dealing with her traumatic memories and a turbulent reunion with Price.

Warnings: MDNI, dark themes, mention of trauma, suicide attempt, mental health talk unstable emotions, guilt and angst, sorry if I missed any.

Sorry I've been gone for so long it's been over a month i know. I just had a lot on my plate but I'm hopefully getting back to a more consistent writing routine. This chapter isn't all that great but it goes into detail on how Rúns mind works. Im not even sure Rún and Soap will be a thing by the end of this story but we'll find out together lol. Next chapter will probably be a mix between Rúns Pov and Soap's Pov. I just wanted to let anyone know that I'll be blocking blogs that follow me that don't have ages or +18 in their bio. I rather minors not read my content. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. This Fae au belongs to @ghouljams I feature their Oc in my writing, send them some love. This story wouldn't exist without them.

Forgotten Sorrows Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 5.1k

After entering the home, you occupy yourself by looking around trying to see what had changed since you last came rather than talk about why you were crying. Your friend walked into her kitchen after getting you settled in her living room probably giving you time to sort through your thoughts. You felt the magic of her wards buzz around you welcoming you back after what felt like years but it had only been a couple of weeks since your last visit. Your eyes stung from crying and you felt a little restless so you get up and walk towards her massive bookshelves and cabinets. Little sniffles still left you as you inspect different vials and jars of herbs displayed on her old mahogany shelves. You definitely felt a lot safer than you did before which helped greatly in calming down your nerves. You decide to prop your little wrapped gift beside her other herbs and spices hoping she'll like it. Your best friend comes in with two mismatched tea cups on a tray with your muffins on it.

Sitting down she pats the space beside her on her sofa. She watches you walk over gingerly and sit down beside her. After handing you your cup she encourages you to take small sips of her herbal tea, gently probing trying to figure out how your seal broke while rubbing your back soothingly. She hasn't seen you like this since before your memories were sealed. You were never this unstable with your magic. Maybe it was a bad idea to begin with but it was the only thing at the time she thought would help you. You were in such a desperate state to forget everything, she was afraid you'd do something far worse. She eventually got you to speak. What followed was more tears and a whole lot of word vomit which she deciphered fairly quickly with some well placed questions. She'd gotten the gist of the series of events that brought you here in such a state. It was your sister again, she had a tendency to get herself in horrible situations only to dump all the responsibilities of said situations on you when things didn't work out. She wasn’t a fan of your sister and voiced her displeasure often. Though this time was far worse, your sister had become entangled with a fae. A fae clearly out to consume her. You were too kind for your own good and highly protective of the one person who said they wanted you as their family. You two would get into small arguments about the way your sister treated you so you both came to an agreement not to talk about it unless it was absolutely necessary to persevere your friendship. She was confused about how your seal broke though. Granted that you were only in your early teens when you managed to put the seal in place. But it had withheld all these years regardless of the amount of times you were perused by the fae or saw something parculiar. Especially that time when a fae tried draining your life force at your previous job. Witch was on a foraging expedition to gather rare plants in season when you ended up in the ICU. She had rushed back as soon as she was informed by your work. You were extremely lucky that fae from work didn’t come visit you in the hospital. You might of died if they came in contact with you in such a vulnerable state. You had chalked it up to overwork since the seal was in place which isn’t necessarily wrong. They did often overwork you with little regard for your wellbeing. Maybe your seal had reached it’s limit and was on the brink of collapse anyway.

Having gotten a fairly comprehensive understanding of the situation she starts gathering ingredients and materials to create protection amulets and charms while she listens to get your anger out on this 'infuriating' Fae as you so put it who was so adamant on ruining your sister. She clearly wasn't a fan of your sister and would much rather she left your life (not that she wished death upon her because she didn't....most of the time) but she knew it would devastate you losing more people in your life and she didn't want that. So out of the love she had for you she went about trying to help you the best she could. She listened to you go into great detail about why you hated this Fae. Why you wanted to "smack his stupid smirk of his handsome face" or that you wanted to "push his stupidily muscular body into the lake" or even better yet "gouging out his pretty ocean eyes". She couldn’t help but laugh to herself at the strange situation. You would inadvertently compliment him while thinking about all the ways you'd want to hurt him. She could clearly tell you were physically attracted to him but decided not to comment on it as she went outside to collect some things for the charms while you mulled over how you could further insult him.

She heard you pace around in the living room as you threw further insults at this mysterious Fae while enjoying a muffin. The witch felt a presence approach as she gathered the last of the ingredients she needed. Looking up she sees an ever so handsome Fae (though she'd never admit it to his face, not yet anyways) leaning against the wall and her threshold. She felt the smoke of his cigar engulf her in a warm embrace but she waved her hands dispensing the smoke cloud nonchalantly trying to appear unfazed by his appearance.

"Hello sweetheart", his deep gravelly voice sends shivers down her spine as she puts away her herbs into her basket standing up straighter.

"Price", she greets a little too eagerly, trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay. They stay like this for what feels like hours just consuming each other through their eyes. Price eyes her up and down especially when she bends over to grab some herbs making idle chatter. Sometimes it feels like she dips her shoulders on purpose giving him an eyeful of full luscious breasts. Not that he's complaining but he'll have to teach her a lesson if she's doing that in public. She hears you walk outside through the backdoor still mumbling insults at that Fae you “absolutely” didn't have some sort of crush on.

"You know what's worse is his stupid name, What the hell kind of name is Soap anyway!?", She watches you look up from the muffin in your hand and freeze when you realise there's another 'visitor' in the garden. You lock eyes with Price with an odd look on your face as if you recognise him. It doesn't last long as you both hear Price speak. He just smirks leaning further against the wall pushing against the threshold a little more.

"Seems like a name for a true muppet if you ask me", he lets out a deep chuckle. Not knowing what to say you simply nod and mumble you'll be waiting inside. You glance back at him one more time with your magic swirling around you confused.

"She's all grown up", Price says to himself, moving away from the wall a little bit. "I'll come see you at a better time luv, seems like you have your hands full". The witch glances after Rún confused and goes to ask Price some questions only to realise he's left not before leaving a small bundle of rosy periwinkle on the wall with a small note attached. 'For the tea and biscuits last time'. She smiles at the note and puts the flowers into her basket to take inside still confused at your reaction to Price. She didnt realise you knew him.

You were sitting on the sofa finishing your tea when you saw her walk inside. You both exchanged a knowing look. You could see her flushed expression from a mile away. And She herself had questions she wanted to ask you. You spoke first excitedly.

"Well?", You narrow your eyes at her. "When were you going to inform me about this drastic change in your love life?

"What drastic change? He's juusst aaa …….friend?", She avoids looking at you while she begins preparing ingredients for the wards.

"Are you asking me or telling me? Because I don't believe you for a second!, you were making heart eyes at him", you scoff clutching your heart thankful for the change of topic. "Oh the betrayal!! The betrayal!! You kept this from me? Me? Your best friend? How could you?", You fake sob into your arm.

"You're so dramatic", she says, rolling her eyes focusing on preparing the things she needed. "I was not making heart eyes at him"

"Yes you were, I have eyes, I can see. Never took you for a liar", you pout. "And here I thought we'd live out our lives out together being platonic virgins", you hear your friend chuckle at that.

"Nevermind our stupid promise, that offer was only valid if we both reached 30 and hadn't lost our virginities or found someone we wanted to be with."

"So you admit it! You want to fuck him!",You watch her choke on her spit trying to deny it. "We only had a couple years left you know, we could have been platonic soulmates. But nooo you had to go find a very powerful Fae to take my place. I don't even have enough power to fight him to claim you. It's the beard isn't it? It is isn't it?”, you sigh playfully hand on your head as you lounge on her sofa like a french girl.

"Are you done?", she laughs grabbing a few things off her shelves. When she finally notices a small wrapped box on her shelf she lifts it to show you. She looks at you knowingly.

You avoid her eyes and just look outside refusing to comment on the present sitting in her hand. “How do you know Price?”, she asks changing the subjest. “You seemed to recognise him”.

“Price? Is that his name? Fits him well”, you think outloud. “Never took you as someone who was interesting in the elderly though”, you laugh jokingly trying to hide the pain of revisiting suppressed memories. You try piecing together the few instances you recall of him in your distorted mind. “I met him before i was brought to the orphanage, he looked the same as he did back then”. “You know the story of when i first met my father after my mother had died, he was there at the High courts when they decide what to do with me. He was the only one who spoke up and gave me the means to decide my own future.” You don’t explain further delving deeper into your own thoughts. Your friend notices and snaps you out of it not wanting you to enter a rabbit hole you won’t be able to get out of. She hands you the wards and protection charms to put into your sisters home.

“You dont need to think about that right now”, she holds your hands in hers. “The next few days are going to be extremely tough on your mind, your memories are going to come back in bursts and with your magic also manifesting you might spiral into hysteria. I want you to come stay with me for a little while so I can keep an eye on you and help you through it.”

You open your mouth to protest but she’s not having any of it. She insist you stay with her until your more stable and able to control your magic better. You sigh defeated and let her know you’ll pack your necessities and come back tomorrow after placing the wards in your sisters apartment. She hugs you as you leave and you feel the warmth and safety evaporate the second you step out through the gate. The feeling of dread re-enters your body and you glance around hastily before getting into your car and driving home. Maybe because you’ve become somewhat paranoid it almost felt if a shadow was following you or was in your near vicinity.

After placing the wards and charms in your sisters apartment when checking in on her as she worked from home you make your way back to your bestfriends house with your bag of necessities and clothing. Your sister seemed alot better and it didnt seem like Soap would bother her anytime soon considering she was complaining he wouldn’t respond to her texts from yesterday.

The next couple of days were very difficult. For both you and Witch. Guilt was eating away at you for being such a burden on her regardless of her constant reassurance that you were anything but. You tried your best to keep in touch with your sister as often as you could but with the building migraines and fits of passing out left you little time to worry about anything else. You also tried your best to be useful when you weren’t in pain but your attempts were shut down and you were told to rest. But after some light arguing she relented and allowed you to help with small tasks to keep your mind off things. Alot had happened in a few days and many disturbing memories resurfaced preventing you from leaving the bed. You spent majority of your day crying and trying to regain some sanity. Your daily meditation sessions helped with your racing mind and unstable magic. The witch would guide you through controlling your magic during the meditations even though your magic and hers were completely different.

Thing were slowly looking up but you felt very unsure of yourself and the identity you created when the seal was in place. The mundane life you had was your safe havan, which now felt inaccessible. You didnt know what to think anymore you didnt feel like the person you felt before, it was like you were back in the mindset of your childhood days. Times which you so desperately wanted to forget.

Memories would resurface of you trying to play with the other children at the orphanage. But because of the tricks the fae would play on anyone who got close to you they would get hurt, you were deemed unlucky or cursed. Some of the tricks were harmless enough like things going missing of being misplaced which would often be blamed you. But the pranks escalated as time went on, ending up with people being hit with potted plants that were on window sills or tripping and falling into nettles. One of worst memories that resurfaced so far was when you were waiting on the curb with another orphan girl you had befriended, you two were waiting to cross the street on your way home from school. You watched as other parents and guardians had come to pick up their children. You remember yearning for someone to hold your hand too while asking how your day was. From the coner of your eye you saw a large shadowy dog? Or was it a cat? Approach your friend as you two stood waiting for the lights to turn green. You had tried desperately to shoo it away before it came closer but the girl just saw it as you being mean to the animal and stopped you. You saw it push your friend onto the road when a car was approaching. Logically it would have been impossible for the animal to have pushed her onto the road so when it had happened and the car came to a screeching halt an inch away from the girl. Every adult on the street and cars understandably were screaming at you after making sure the girl was ok. Who was now crying recoving from the shock of almost dying. The orphanage cartakers were called by the teachers at the school gate and you were kept away from the other kids for a really long time as punishment. And for their safety for your so called ‘unpredictable behavior’ even though it wasn’t you who had done it.

The isolation that followed was one of the worst you ever felt. But blaming it on an animal you called a fairy would have deemed you insane or in need of mental counselling so you kept your mouth shut and took the blame. You could never forget the look your friend had given you after the ordeal. You spent months grounded with having to take up more chores to atone for your actions. Rumours spred like wildfire in school, parents and teachers alike warned kids to stay away from you. But after things settled down the guilt of the situation made you go apologise to the girl even though you never pushed her. You kept to yourself after that much to the releif of the other kids. The only place you felt safe was at the house of your current best friend. Her and her family would come donate things to the orphanage and spend time with the children. You laugh to yourself remembering the first time you had met her. She had introduced herself as ‘witch’ and nothing more as you sat on the grass making flower crowns at the edge of the garden. You had told her to stay away and that bad things would happen to her if she came close to you. Which she proceeded to ignore saying she isnt afraid of the fae. You remember looking at her with shock and admiration. For the longest time you were ridiculed for blaming the bad things that happed on ‘fairies’ as everyone else put it. You were now banned from talking about said ‘faries’. You asked if she could see them and she said no but she could sense them and her family said they were real so it had to be true ‘because grandma doesn’t lie’ . You asked why she wasn’t afraid and she said her family and her home is protected. And that you should come visit her grandmothers cottage since its only down the street. You watched her leave with her grandmother through the gate. They placed a charm on the gate before they left and you waved them goodbye.

You honestly owe your life to your her considering all she had done for you. You wouldn’t have made it so far in life without her. Hence the reason why you sat in her sofa ridden with guilt for causing disturbance to her life. Though she adamantly denies it. You watch her mull around her work space opening and closing drawers and jars making a list of things to stock up on.

“At least let me help”, you plead

“Absolutely not, you just had a mental breakdown”, she points her pencil at you before going back to what she was doing. “Sit pretty and enjoy your tea before it gets cold”

“Please i feel like a freeloader, a leach, a parasite”, you pout at her hoping to change her mind

“You are anything but, you may not realise or value the things you do for others but I do so just sit and enjoy your tea and let me take care of you”, she smiles at you finishing up her list.

“Can i make dinner at least?”

“No we’ll order takeout once i come home from shopping, i would take you with me but your magic is unstable right now so its best if you rest while i run some errands”, she walks over to you and places her hand against your cheek lovingly. “You are and never will be a burden on me, ok?”

You look into her eyes and nod as you get up to follow her to the door as she gathers her essentials. Before she leaves you call out to her one last time.

“Give me something small to keep myself occupied while your gone then....please”, you plead

She catches the desperation in your eyes, this whole ordeal was taking its tole on you she could see in your sunken eyes and the dark circles you now have due to the lack of sleep and constant nighmares. She thinks for a bit before she speaks.

“The flowers around the house are getting old, why not make some new flower arrangements to put in the vases?”

You smile at her suggestion and nod as you wave her goodbye and lock the front door.

You go about gathering all wilted flowers around the house and taking the vases to wash in the sink. Once everything was cleaned and dried you pick a basket and sheers to go into the garden to gather new flowers to arrange into bouquets. It felt a little odd being in the cottage all by yourself but the warmth and safety never left. You look open the back door taking in the good weather.

The fresh air felt nice on your skin. Paired with the bright sun shining on you, a calming sensation engulfed your senses. You let a shaky breath out trying to dispel all your worries even if it was only momentarily. You take a look around the garden contemplating on what flowers to choose. The red rose bush near the back gate stood out to you. They were in full bloom and had a lovely smell emanating from them. Making your way towards the bush you were careful not to touch the thorns as you cut the roses and put them into the basket.

The felt a familiar presence approach without having to look you knew who it was. The wards hummed in recognition as he leaned againt the wall, pushing at the threshold. You didn’t feel any form of hostility or danger from him surprisingly.

“She’s not here, but im sure you knew that already”, you say straighting your back and making eye contact with Price.

“Oh? And how would i have known that? “, he chuckles

“Your claim is on her, i only realised when i had seen you that day. There was a scent on her and her things that i overlooked”, you pout slightly still upset at losing your platonic soulmate, yeah definitely platonic....

You shake your head trying to dispel your thoughts.

“You upset i stole her from you?”, he smiles mischievously.

“I wouldn’t call it stealing per say. She’s still in my life and i dont plan on that changing. Her hapiness and wellbeing is my top priority, if you so happen to bring her hapiness who am i to object. Im happy as long as she’s happy”

“ ‘s that so?”

“Im asuming your here for some other reason than to annoy me?” you finish gather the roses as you move towards the peonys at the far end of the the right wall. Price casually walks as you do continuing the conversation.

“Heard one my boys was causing you some trouble. That muppet Soap has a ferocious appetite. I’ll warn you he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. Might be best to let your sister go and mourn already. I need my boys well fed to run my errands”, he says sympathetically.

Your pain takes a spike as you hear him mention Soap and your sister. You chest felt heavy when you look into Price’s eyes. He might of meant it sympathetically but in your mind it came across as condescending almost as a warning to back off. You felt hurt at his words considering he had helped you when you were little.

You scoff fighting the tears in your eyes and busy yourself gathering the peony.

“You fae are all the same, selfish and unempathetic”, you didnt want to enage in the conversation further conviced he’d say somthing to further upset you so you turn to leave. The pain was spreading from your chest as if you were being injected by liquid fire. It was coursing through your veins and burning every nerve ending. You felt your magic whiplash around you trying to keep danger away even if it was only emotionally.

“Don’t forget you have the same blood flowing through you. You are one of us. He may be doing you a favour by removing your sister from your life”

You snap your head toward him, anger bubbling up from deep within. You feel the pressure push at the walls of your mind. “When have i ever been seen as one of your kind!? This blood has brought me nothing but torment!!”, you laugh with no mirth in your voice. “Doing me a favour!? Doing me a favour? By what? Taking away my only family? By taking away the only person who needs me? My sister is the reason I am alive right now, I continue living for her sake. If she’s gone I have no purpose”, you give him your worst glare. You eyes begin to hurt and you feel a migrain coming on but you refuse to blink. You want to drive home the point you aren’t afraid of him or any fae especially when it came down to family. The magic within you becomes scorching hot, expanding and creating pressure that you felt in your eyes. The longer you stared the more the pain grew. It was as if you were pulling an elastic band to its limits waiting for it to snap or for you to let go. Either way you knew the sting was coming.

Price didnt say anything and returned your stare unnerved. He could see the pain not only in your heart but in your mind. He could feel the pain through the magic in the air, your magic had taken on a murky colour a mixture of red and green. You were actively fighting the seal on your eyes trying to prove a point but you were just hurting yourself. Your eyes were growing teary and he knew you were about to break. What he didnt expext was for your magic to combust around you when it happened. Like a match being thrown into a pool of gasoline the flames engulfed you.

You collapsed onto the grass desperately trying to contain your magic and tears. You felt like a failure, a burden trying to grasp at straws to keep people in your life. Now look at what you’ve done! How were you to explain how the garden burnt down. You sob into your hands trying to calm down. You wished the flames would just consume you. You were tired, so tired. If there was no hope in saving your sister why bother living. You thought of your will as you felt the flames touch your skin and burn you. At least you could repay them back in some sense for having had to waste their time on you all these years. Just as quickly as you embrace the flames you felt them extinguish. A cold sensation ran all over you soothing your superficial burns before you realised you were wet. You open your eyes and see Price inside the threshold but quite a distance away as if he couldn’t get to you in time.. You look at him confused. An empty watering can lay next to you. It must have been the protection wards that had put you out. You knew your friend would have felt that and was probably on her way home.

You look around disoriented, nothing had been burnt expect you. You decided to just stay quiet. You didn’t know how you could possibly go about explaining what had just happened to your friend when she got back without incriminating yourself and your attempt to end everything. You watch Price crouch down to your level bringing his hand towards you. You flinch and move back.

“Im just trying to see how badly your injured, i won’t hurt you”, he sighs a sad look crossing his eyes.

“Maybe not phyically but you have a way with words”, you bite back.

“We’re often blind to volatile people in our lives. Im sure i’m not the first or only person to warn you about her”, you stay quiet because you yourself know what your sister is like an how she treats you but for some reason you feel bound to help and take care of her to the point of exhaustion. You feel indepted to her for showing you kindness when no one else would especially after you sealed your memories away. Spending time in a house where no one acknowledged you was heart wrenching, she was your salvation when you couldn't find purpose in life. You couldn’t abandon her now. You were bound by duty of repayment.

You sniffle as you roughly wipe your face wincing when you came in contact with the burn. You had few people in your life who cared about you. You desperately needed to be of use to them. It was the only way in your mind they tolerated your presence. Why else would anyone need you or want you? You wouldn’t have been abandoned or mistreated if you were useful. The current situation had you feeling on thin ice as if you’d become a nuisance to the very person you love. Regardless of the amount of times she has reassured you, your mind refuses to believe it.

‘She’s just being nice’ ‘She just a kind hearted person to everyone your not special to her’ ‘You need to get better and leave before she she gets tired of you’, you mind would constantly berate you for wanting your needed anything from others. You needed to be 100% independent in order not to inconvenience anyone. And right now you were anything but. You were glad you didn’t burn down her garden though, one less thing to add to the growing list of situations to feel guilty for. The pain in your chest didn’t dissipate it only got worse as you sat there on the grass, as Price looked around for something to dry you with. In your desperation to lesson the pain you claw at your chest feeling around to rip out the source of your troubles. But how was one supposed to rip out emotions? You kept feeling around trying to find somthing tangible to pull out but you couldn’t. You were just left with a guilty conscience and a river of awful memories. Price tried to approach you a couple more times but you refused to let him near.

You didn’t know how much time had passed but the summer sun had dried you by the time you heard the front door open hastily and you watch your friend try to locate you. Your skin was still stinging from the burns as Price stood by leaning against the wall with his arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. She came into the back garden with a frantic look on her face. You watch her run to you and collapse onto the grass holding you to her chest. You wince from the burns and she pulls back holding your face in her hands, inspecting to see the extent of the damage. All you could do was apologise as tears streamed down your face. Begging for forgiveness saying you didn’t mean for it to happen. She just held you as you let everthing out.

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #captain john price #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #john soap mactavish #call of duty mw2 #cod mw soap #soap cod #soap mw2 #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mctavish #soap x reader #soap modern warfare #john mactavish x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #cod modern warfare #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #captain price #john price #1fae1 #fae!soap #fae!au

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

He’s a grower.

Not that I’ve seen alot, but, yeah.

Btw do you feel like blessing us with a short Ettore reader smut in the future, one maybe not too dark please?

I've sat on this request for two weeks and now can't remember what the first part of your ask is in relation to, but it's definitely peen related lol This is my first time writing for a Ewan character that isn't Aemond, so I hope I do Ettore justice!

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1110 Part two Series masterlist

She sways on her feet, her legs threatening to give way beneath her as she loads red scrubs into the washer. She knows Dibs has been increasing her medication, likely giving her sedatives, as she can barely keep her eyes open.

Unsurprising, really, since she'd lashed out at the older woman the other day. Dibs was bound to do something to keep her in check following that little outburst, but how else could she have reacted? She needed to defend herself. The fertility experiments were getting increasingly barbaric in nature, and as the self proclaimed doctor had walked towards her with a syringe, she'd seen red and swung out with her fist.

Laundry duty feels like a Sisyphean effort. Each of her limbs seems like it is moving through treacle as she struggles to lift the bundles of dirty clothing. She drops what's in her arms to the floor, leaning heavily against the surface of the machine as her head swims.

Fuck, I'm going to pass out.

It's then that she feels him. The hardness of his chest and stomach presses against her back as she props herself up, struggling to stay conscious. She never hears him coming, he moves around the ship like a spectre, yet she can always feel him watching her. Ettore.

His warm breath fans across her neck as he towers over her.

"You look like shit." He murmurs.

"That bitch has drugged me..." She slurs in response. "...need to sleep."

"Need some company?" It would sound almost flirtatious, were it not for the fact that his fingertips were currently pressing painfully into her hip.

She attempts to force her elbow backwards to get him off of her, but her drowsiness causes her to stagger, falling back into him. He takes the opportunity to press his groin against her backside.

"Get off me!" She hisses, steadying herself on the washing machine once more. "I've got laundry duty."

He spins her to face him, gripping her by the upper arms. Her body poses no resistance to him, she simply does not have the wherewithal in her sedated state to fight back.

"Tell you what." He leers down at her. "I'll finish off laundry duty, so you can sleep. But I want a treat as payment."

The way he says the word "treat" makes her stomach roil. She knows exactly what he wants and ordinarily she'd tell him without hesitation to fuck off.

However, in her current state she knows she'd be stupid to refuse. She'd pass out, Ettore would do what he wanted to her regardless and then she'd get into even more trouble for not having finished her work duty for the day.

"Fine." She mumbles, staggering past him and making her way back to her bunk.

She does not see the predatory glint in Ettore's eye as he watches her go, before he turns to finish off the chore that she'd started.

***

A hand pushes up the fabric of the top half of her scrubs, fingers drag their way across the flesh of her abdomen, rousing her from her slumber. She has no idea how long she has been unconscious for, but her head still feels thick with sleep.

As her vision swims back into focus, she sees the blank expression of Ettore looming over her. It sends her crash landing the rest of the way into wakefulness, as she slaps his hand away with a shocked gasp.

"What are you doing?!" She demands angrily.

"I've come for my treat." His voice is soft, yet the sinister edge is unmistakable.

She groans, scrubbing a palm over her face as she remembers their deal from earlier.

"On your knees." He orders, righting himself to his full height.

She stares up at him, eyes wide with fright as her heart hammers in her chest.

"You won't like it if I have to ask twice." He threatens lowly.

She's not sure she likes it now, but she obeys, climbing from her bunk and dropping slowly to her knees in front of him.

His hands move to push down the front of his red polyester trousers, freeing his cock.

She recoils slightly. Due to her lengthy incarceration and the strict rules against fraternising between inmates on board, it has been a long time since she's seen the male form. Though she has little to compare it to, she knows he's big.

Hard, heavy and thick, his erection stands prominently at the apex of his thighs. Ettore smirks proudly down at her reaction, gripping the base with one hand and grabbing a handful of her hair with the other, to push her head forward. He taps the tip against her lips.

"It's not gonna suck itself."

The ironclad grasp he has on her hair leaves little room for argument. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what is to come next, then opens her mouth and takes him inside.

The head is sharp tasting against her tongue and she wonders if he will ever bottom out as he continues to push past her lips.

She splutters around him, fighting the urge to retch as he touches the back of her throat. She slaps at his thighs in a panic, yet he does not pull back.

"Breathe through your nose." He instructs, beginning to thrust in and out of her mouth, using his hold on the back of her head for leverage.

She does as he says, relaxing her jaw and hollowing her cheeks as he continues to use her for his own needs.

He groans at the sensation, his eyes hooded with pleasure as he stares down at her, his jaw slack and breathing ragged. She is surprised as her own core begins to throb, liquid warmth pooling between her legs and soaking the fabric of the crotch of her scrubs.

She is desperate for relief, clenching around nothing. Drool is puddling at the corners of her mouth and trickling down her chin. His assault on her mouth and throat is relentless, though she notices his hips begin to stutter as she swirls her tongue around the head of him.

She repeats the motion and he grunts, stilling as she tastes the first spatter of his release against her tongue. She is partially disgusted by the strangeness of it, yet it seems to serve to further ignite her own arousal. He remains sheathed between her lips until he is finished.

"Swallow." He says simply, not pulling out until he sees the bob of her throat as she does as instructed.

He tucks himself away before turning to leave.

"Wait!" She calls out. "What about me?"

He shrugs, regarding her coldly. "Not my problem. Use the box."

#ewan mitchell #ettore #high life #ettore x reader #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfic #ettore fanfiction #ettore smut #high life smut #high life fanfic #high life fan fiction #high life fanfiction

[freezing-kaiju]

ALRIGHT, IT'S TIME!

THE SECOND RYUKI-AND-BLADE-ACCOMPANYING ANIME POLL IS NOW HERE!!!

SO, MEET YOUR CHALLENGERS!

AJIN Demi-Human

We start with a dark horror and possibly scifi about ethics in science, immortality, and an outlaw fugitive alien plot as a boy finds himself part of a group of immortals declared legally inhuman. While I have some misgivings about Oh No I Was Secretly A Creature All Along plots, I do fucking love horror and there’s a lot of ways for those plots to hit hard in the trans and gay and autism organs and be really important!!!!

Dimension W

The New Tesla Energy Corporation has monopolized the fourth dimension and the coils that connect to it. A duo of bounty hunters, one human and one robot, make money via repossessing illegal coils and seek out the answer to the mysteries within the dimension. I really wanna watch this one for a few reasons, the primary one of which is 'there are multiple fat women'. It seems to have freaks and weirdos and fun times, and its comedy is emphasized more than most of the other ones on this list so it might give some needed levity!

Kyoukai no Kanata

A bumbling monster hunter with blood powers meets an immortal via trying to shank him and ends up in an arrangement where she'll keep trying to kill him to boost her confidence while hunting monsters in what I hope is a monster-of-a-week show that came highly recommended by a friend as her favorite anime, or one of her favorites, so i have high hopes! Script's by the hibike euphonium guy and the power system seems quite interesting!

Air

A puppeteer (if he’s as good as Sakon will remain to be seen) stops his Road Trip To Meet A Golden Sun Jupiter Summon to stay for a bit in a town and, as happens to anyone who stops for too long, gets attached to the place and also meets a girl who might be said jupiteresque being. My friend informs me that it's gorgeous, sounds amazing (so I'll make sure to get clips), and has "nice sad vibes"!!! And it’s…listed in a “provincial horror” listing… hoho

Heike Monogatari

A child who can see ghosts and the future walks tirelessly through the tragedy of the war between the Taira and Minamoto families before the dawn of the first shogunate. It's wildly beloved by a friend of mine, and also centers a historical event i know some but not all about and definitely need to know more about the Taira side of. Seems like a beautiful drama, one I could lose my heart over.

SSSS Gridman

Digital kaiju! Digital hero! Digital amnesia! A monster of the week show about an unknown amnesiac summoning and merging with Hyper Agent Gridman to fight digital, possibly virtual monsters while making friends(?) in the real world! It's the one thing Tsubaraya Productions has that isn't Ultraman, and I expect some tokusatsu vibes from it along with the mecha stuff, i've also heard it has gay girl megatron??

Akudama Drive

It's a prison break and crime story set in a tech dystopia, starring a scene girl shoplifter, and featuring a bevvy of unpersoned convicts in what seems like an excellent ensemble clusterfuck!!! The Danganronpa crew made this thing! It's also beloved by a friend of mine, and I've heard it'll be a generally excellent tragedy of a time

Canaan

A reporter gets saved from assassins by a woman she might do yuri with, and the summaries I’ve found seem to imply a plot about terrorism and mystery! It’s a Type-Moon work that isn't part of the fate, tsukihime, OR melty universes! It might still have magecraft, but it's tagged sci-fi too, and a type moon take on scifi sounds interesting... it’s also based on. *checks wikipedia* a…perfect-Famitsu-score visual novel for the Nintendo Wii. So I might need to dig out some old hardware to watch this thing. For fun’s sake!

Killing Bites

A guy unintentionally becomes the underground wrestling promoter of a ?werewolf? Woman who murders his friends and wins him a shitload of money. The end goal? According to the summary, control of the economy!!! This was recommended as garbage and good lord I need garbage so much good god I need to put some trash inside of me.

#kj grabs a megaphone #kj watches anime #polls #IF YOU WANT TO VoTE MULTIPLE OPTIONS PUT IT IN YER TAGS

[twogyuu]

Hello! I was just wondering what your favorite svt fics were? Looking for a good read! Love your writing btw!

THIS IS MY FAVORITE QUESTION - THANK YOU!!! LOL

In no particular order! (As a disclaimer, I do mostly just read for certain members so these recs will not be comprehensive! I will also try not to repeat the ones I have mentioned before.)

Vernon:

Oh Where Did the Party Go? by @dropsofletters -- Hands down one of the best Vernon angst fics on this platform! It's long, but the suspense, mutual pining, and fine line between fact and fiction keeps you engaged the whole time! I will warn you, it's heavy because of the way it approaches social hierarchy, but I think the author does it very eloquently! I still remember staying up super late reading this lol. I will admit I almost cried :')

Pretty Lies by @lonelywhalien22 -- Inspired by (pop/punk) rock music, especially Black Eye, OP does an amazing job capturing the edginess of this genre in this fic!! I've re-read it several times lol. Haven't quite seen Vernon's character be captured in a more stoic/colder persona, but it was done tastefully :) and the character development is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

work husband by @wondernus -- THERE'S A REASON THIS HAS 3k+ NOTES!!! Okay, I am not usually a fluff reader, so this took me by surprise, but this has to be my absolute favorite Vernon fic ever 😫 It's about two teachers who act like a couple, but won't own up to it. The relationship development is slow and frustrating af, but has me kicking and squealing like a teenager getting her first signed 1D poster in 2014 😭🤧😂 The side characters are also amazing!!! Nu has a way with words that is so poetic too - like, this is who I wanna be when I grow up!!! I could go on forever about this, but if there is one you HAVE to read for Vernon, it's definitely this one.

Soonyoung

The Times We Couldn't Say Goodbye by @husbandhoshi -- I really loved this one because in a sense, it captures all stages of what it means to fall in and out of(?) love (/how sometimes as much as you love someone life is a bitch and just doesn't work out at all)? There's the twist of this being a fantasy story, with Soonyoung being a wizard. It's amazing how the author captures their relationship just ~2k words, but she does and leaves you feeling like a gutted fish flopping on a dock in the best way possible :)

Misc.

In Pursuit of Wedding Bliss by @fantasyescapes17 -- This whole series is incredibly well-written! It's a regency!au centered around social season, where some of the members come to London to meet and find spouses. Each member has their own arc/series, but the way they're interwoven into each others' stories is so clever!!! That said, would recommend reading all of it, bc if you miss one members' story, it might be hard to understand the others. My personal favorite was Jeonghan's - I have read many good Jeonghan fanfics before, but this was just a whole 'nother level of in love LOL. It really captures his flirtatious/devious ways, but also his genuine and caring nature! The main oc is also really refreshing bc she's confident and knows what she wants without being **too** out there, which is nice for this era where most girls are portrayed as one or the other. That said, Mingyu's and Hoshi's were also really good! Just read the whole thing! LOL.

I'll stop here before I bore y'all with my commentary 😅🥲 In general, I share my faves on #twogyuu:recs if you're interested in seeing more! I read for SVT, NCT, and occasionally, TBZ. There might be some BTS fics on there from my early silent reader days, but not so much anymore.

In summary:

Favorite longshot authors: @dropsofletters, @wonwoonlight, @wondernus, @secndlife, and @shuaflix. I've been meaning to check-out @amourcheol and more of @husbandhoshi as well, but just haven't had the time yet 😭

Favorite drabble authors: @wqnwoos, @satoruvt, and @ssentimentals

Favorite smau authors: I don't read these often, but @suhnshinehaos has a couple that I really enjoyed!

Enjoy! Happy reading :)

#twogyuu:recs #not at me just realizing that most of these fic recs are vernon fic recs 🤡 #oops #i promise i do read for others too LOL