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#Jazz: Wow this is fucked up I need to take notes but i have tiny baby hands
puppetmaster13u · 6 months
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Prompt 67
Dan is not happy. His limbs are too small, his hands too pudgy and his body too squishy. And his so-called cousins are the same, despite the fact they were all finally going to turn eighteen (again in his case!) literally the next day! 
Um, hello strange masked being, back the fuck off! Who are you?! Put him down- actually put all four of them down thank you! Those claws are very big and he’s not worried but seriously, he doesn’t want to deal with this, he wants to go back to how he was! He’s not fucking growing up a third time! 
Did you just click at him?! Hell no, he’ll bite you, don’t think he won’t! So what if his powers aren’t working or that he’s now a squishy toddler thing, he’ll still bite your stupid fingers if you make his cousin-siblings scared! 
Talon is just bemused at the tiny (even smaller than the ones who usually follow it!) talons that appeared in front of it with no warning. Sure they have strange green eyes instead of yellow but they smell like Talons, have claws like talons and fangs like talons, and even sound like talons! Hm… It has even more hatchlings now! 
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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years
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Lilies of the Valley III
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A/B/O!BTS x Reader
Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.
In the language of flowers, yellow lilies are said to represent both deception (perhaps tied to the notion of concealment) and graciousness.
Release Date: 05/25/20 @ 7 pm
previously ~ next
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        Yoongi shook his head, black fringe swaying slightly. “That’s ridiculous. You’re staying with us.”
        “Absolutely not!”
        The refusal was out of her mouth before she'd even thought about it. Both men flinched at her rejection but didn't look surprised. YN however was beginning to be upset, of course they would try to take advantage of the situation. I shouldn’t have expected any different. The tension was beginning to rise between the two and YN suddenly remembered that Yoongi liked to provoke people. Suddenly Jimin raised his hands as if to show no ill will, "We don't mean it like that." His hands raked through his perfectly styled hair, "It's just that you're our mate. Legally now too."
           “It wouldn’t look right. Plus it would be dangerous.” Yoongi finished for him, leaning forward and uncrossing his arms. He tentatively reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. It was warm and softer than YN would’ve imagined, she didn’t remove it and she couldn’t quite understand why. Maybe because it was meant to comfort her and it had been a long time since YN had been comforted. She almost found herself getting lost in its warmth until she reminded herself of who she was with and stopped herself. Sensing her discomfort the betas rushed to speak again. “We have this small cottage in the back, it’s newly refurbished and has plumping and everything. All it would need is a bed.”
           “I don’t know if I would feel comfortable living with all seven of you...it’s a lot.”
           Yoongi sighed, “We understand, though it isn’t like you have much of a choice. No place will take a mated omega. The law won’t permit it. Only...” He didn’t have to finish for her to know what he meant.
           Only the boarding house.
           YN looked up at the men and spoke as clearly as she could, "I'm not your mate. I'm not your omega," she saw how every word was spoken physically deflated them. "However, thank you for helping me. It's only temporary until I find another solution." Something flashed quickly in both men's eyes, but it was far too fast for YN to comprehend what it was. They only smiled and nodded with jovial excitement. Jimin began to talk about furniture that would be added while Yoongi pulled out his phone and seemed to text someone. She realized her hand was still under his and tried to retrieve it, Yoongi didn't allow her too. Before YN could say anything he gave her hand a quick squeeze and released it. Putting his left hand into his jacket’s pocket.
           “So it’s set. We’ll be by later to pick up your things .”
           YN nodded feeling a numbness spreading throughout her body, as she finished her tea and placed the cup down. Her eyes met theirs, dark empty pools, and she wondered if their inner scale was tipped. Were they more animal than human? Beasts? YN would soon find out.
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            “Swear you’ll be okay?” Rosé asked, her fingers intertwined into YN’s. They swung back and forth, their arms shaking slightly. The air was silent, save for the things left unsaid.
             "I'm sure. I'll be safe. They won't hurt me." The smile hurt YN, but she forced her lips to spread open for her best friend's sake. She couldn't possibly leave Rosé out for the wolves, even if it meant she would be jumping right into their den.  
           “Don’t forget to text me. Oh, and call me every night.”
YN rolled her eyes but laughed. "Yes, mom. I'll make sure to write you a letter every day."
           “For a year?”
        The two girls giggled and embraced as YN willed herself to stick to her word. Just as she was beginning to doubt herself, someone knocked on the door. When the door opened, it was Yoongi and Jimin again; both with smiles on their faces - ones a little too big to be done out of politeness. They stayed by the door, if they entered their scents would linger and that wouldn't look good on Rosé. Betas did have a scent, but unless they were purposefully trying to emit it, only other betas would sense it. "Are you ready to go?" Jimin spoke after he had waved at Rosé. YN nodded, grabbing her bags resting by the door and handing them off to the two waiting betas. Feeling like it would be a while until YN saw her again, she turned around and gave Rosé one last hug. Rosé leaned deep into their embrace and whispered into YN's ear, "If anything happens. Call me, I'll be there immediately."  
           Tears almost welled up in YN’s eyes but she fought them back, merely giving her a reassuring squeeze before walking out and closing the door.
           Wow, what a fucking house. YN's jaw slackened at the sight of it, though her parents were well off it hadn't compared to this. Then again, combining the wealth of seven of the richest families in Seoul was bound to bear its fruits. Judging by the smirk on the two men's faces, they enjoyed her reaction. So, she did her best to school it immediately. There hadn't been any words exchanged by the three of them in the car, thankfully, and YN hoped it would remain that way. Instead of taking her to the front entrance, Yoongi and Jimin guided her to the side of the house. It once they reached the backyard that her breath was truly taken away.  
           The area was huge with a swimming pool, patio area, and botanical garden. However, it was the tiny home in the back with a garden of lilies that called to her. “It’s like the one at school.” Was the first thing she noted. It wasn’t as large, but it seemed to have similar flowers and evoke the same feeling.
           “Do you like it?” Yoongi asked, looking at her from his peripheral.
           “I love it.” There was no hesitance in her words, they were sincere.
They guided her to the tiny house; which the closer she got wasn't so tiny at all. It was one floor with a large bed, a television mounted on the wall, a small closet, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. There was even a small bookcase filled with familiar books: they had been the assigned reading when she was in school. Probably filled with annotations and other such things. YN wished she still had her copies, but she had donated all but her favorites to school when she graduated.
           Jimin cleared his throat, “Sorry the closet isn’t bigger, but we can expand it later.” YN shook her head, “No, that’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Yoongi placed his hand on her shoulder, “Dinner will be served in about an hour. You can meet everyone then.” Meet them again. YN felt her throat dry up, she wasn’t sure about how she felt being a room with all seven of them just yet. She had wanted to delay the inevitable, but considering she was staying in their home - it was the least she could do.
           “Sure.”
The two of them seemed pleased at her lack of resistance. Jimin smiled, "Go get cleaned up and we'll come to pick you up when it's time." YN felt it was more of a command, then a suggestion but she didn't care. Once the two of them left, she jumped on the bed and decided to take a small nap. The pillow smelled fresh and clean, only lulling her faster into sleep.
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       "I'm very sorry for what's occurred to you, YN. But I want you to know it isn't your fault and that we are here to help." Officer Kim sent a comforting smile, trying to ease YN's nerves. YN remained silent, her grip on the blue blanket thrown around her shoulders was so strong her fingers were white. The officer sighed, tilting her head slightly to send a look to the people behind the screen. When she looked back at YN, all she saw was the teenager's glassy widened eyes. It had been an accident, a terrible one, but teenagers tended to be reckless. If the gruesome bite on YN's neck was anything to show for it.  
           “Do you want to press charges?”
           YN shook her head, caving in on herself even more. Jungkook’s sorry wails still echoed in her head. It didn't matter, what's done is done. YN looked up to meet the officer Kim's warm golden eyes. Her lips parted and she could see the anticipation building up in the cop's face only for there to be a disappointment once YN actually spoke.
           “I just want to go home.”
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           Loud knocking tore her away from her dreams, as she saw a shadow-like figure standing outside the doors.
         The door opened slowly, only once he'd stepped in could YN recognize him. "Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't know you were asleep." Kim Taehyung had probably undergone the most significant change out of all of them: transforming from a lanky teen to an able man. YN didn't realize she had been gaping at him so openly until he smirked. "Um, no don't worry." She scrambled to get off the bed and smooth down her clothes, getting rid of any creases her short sleep might have caused.  Taehyung tilted his head, his eyes roaming her body until they landed on her poorly concealed mark. YN flinched when he stepped forward, but instead of grabbing her Taehyung held out his hand.
           “Dinner is served and it’ll get cold if we wait any longer.”
            As attractive as he was, truthfully they all were, and as much as something inside her willed her to grab his hand - YN refused. Walking past him and outside the double doors to the garden of lilies. The sun had long set and now the half-moon shined brightly in the night sky. Casting a beautiful glow on the garden, the lilies, and YN herself. Perhaps, that is why it took Taehyung such a long time to step outside her room, the man still in the shadows. He was simply basking in her glory. Or perhaps, he was trying to control his rage at his mate's reaction in a way that would frighten the already tense YN.
           When he stepped out a charlatan smile was present on his features, “Let’s go then.” Together the two of them walked side by side until they reached the house. Faintly YN could hear the sound of jazz music and muffled voices, goosebumps rose on her arms as her stomach twisted and turned. Here we go. YN’s hands balled into fists as she dug her nails into her skin, trying to remain calm despite the voices growing louder and louder. Eventually, she could pick on the scent of one...two...four alphas and hear the soft bell-like nature of Jimin’s laugh. They were all here. Now’s the time.
          The conversations began to die down and YN knew it was because they sensed her. She prayed to whatever god's existed that everything would go well. They turned a corner and YN suddenly saw them. All seven of them were wearing what could be deemed business casual attire. They were all littered across the room, but all seemed to be in a circle surrounding a red velvet chesterfield where the lead alpha was seated. His dark hair combed back, a white button-down, and tight black jeans. One by one they all turned to face her, but he was last. His warm chocolate eyes lingering on the glass of wine in his hand before they slowly traveled to meet hers.
           YN finally realized what situation she was in. A prey in a predator's territory and sadly, she'd already been branded. She remained frozen on the spot, unable to look away from the alpha's eyes, she didn't know if it was courage or brazen recklessness. Then he smiled, a warm charming smile that reminded her of the early days. When the two would speak in hushed whispers and aid each other in assignments and tests. Times when YN looked at him with admiration, care, and maybe a tiny bit of love. She did have a small crush on him back in those days, nothing to act upon since she knew he was destined but enough to make her feel happy to be around him.
           He stood up and crossed the room, a steady stride which was a blend of natural yet calculated. As if he was measuring how close he could get without scaring her, it was when he was two feet away that YN slightly stepped back. The action caused him to stop, as he finally spoke.
           “Welcome. It’s been a while.”
Soon they all crowded around her offering kind smiles. Their scents were strangely muted now, YN guessed that was being done on purpose in order not to frighten her - or send her into a pseudo-heat. Not that it would occur considering the suppressants she was on. Conversations started back up again, but YN didn't participate in any. She noticed Jungkook was strangely quiet too but didn't pay him much attention for fear he might get the wrong idea. It was a couple of minutes later that a worker announced the food was served, YN went to follow him but someone tugged at her hand pulling her back.
           “Mind if we have a chat?” Namjoon asked, a hint of mirth in his smile.
           "Sure," YN noted how most of them walked away, Seokjin was the only one who remained but stayed near the threshold.  
           “Wow, you’ve changed. Grown, I mean.” His awkwardness caused a slight chuckle to escape YN’s lips. “Says the person who is now seven feet tall.” At that his smile grew. The glass of wine in his hand was placed on a top nearby and now that his hands were empty, Namjoon took a hold of hers. His large warm hands cradling hers, as his thumbs ran soothingly across her knuckles. “How do you feel?” YN didn’t know why she was so at ease around Namjoon, maybe because they’d known each other before everything happened. He had demonstrated that he was a good person, who had simply made a mistake. As opposed to the other’s who she only knew vaguely and had been forced to get to know because of what happened.
           “Fine. Good.” YN smiled gently, her heart didn’t race as it did before but she felt comfortable around Namjoon in a way she didn’t around the others. It might’ve been that he was the leader: the one who could make everyone fall in line at his command. It might’ve been that she trusted him. YN didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. “Thank you for letting me stay.” She spoke to both him and Seokjin who straightened up.
           “It’s no problem, YN. Your welcome as long as you’d like.” Seokjin’s words were polite and YN was thankful he didn’t mention anything about mates. In fact, she hoped the whole conversation would be avoided the entire evening.
           Namjoon drew her attention back to him, “What’s ours is yours. Whatever you need, don't be afraid to tell us.” Before YN could say anything, he pulled her towards the exit. “Come. Everyone is waiting for us.” He sent her a flirty wink before Seokjin joined them, walking on her other side.
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            “So YN, what did you study?” Hoseok wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
           “Sociology.”
           “Sounds interesting. Did you like it?”
           “Yeah, it was interesting.” YN wasn’t the most social person, not to mention she found it difficult to speak when all eyes were on her.
           “Did you get the flowers we sent for your graduation?” Taehyung asked, beside her. He was less intimidating in the warm yellow lighting of the dining room. Ah the flowers. Her parents had delivered the flowers when they went to visit and though YN had been all smiles, she’d thrown them in the trash the second she’d gotten back home.
           “Yes, they were lovely. Thank you.”
           It all seemed too perfect, too surreal, nothing bad had occurred yet and it had YN on the edge of her seat. This wasn’t how she was expecting the night to go at all. It had been years since the incident and though YN was aware that people could change, they seemed so different. People are different during heats. It’s more animal instinct than anything. That may be true, but it felt like she was at a reunion rather than a dinner with her supposed ‘mates.’ It seems the jovial atmosphere was beginning to be too much for someone else because Jungkook finally broke.
           “Aren’t we going to talk about it?!” His hands slammed down against the table, causing everyone to turn and look at him. Jungkook was near the end of the table, right next to Seokjin which faced Namjoon at the head. Talk about what? It seemed his question was more intended for his pack members than for her, but it still left YN curious. Seokjin who seemed unfazed continued cutting his meat, “Kookie, stop it.” This seemed to only anger the youngest more.
           “No, we agreed -” Just as Jungkook was standing up, Hoseok pulled him back down to his chair. Oh no. Alpha’s butting heads was never a good sign. She might’ve assumed this was normal but seeing how tense Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin were this was clearly unusual. The sudden growl that Jungkook let out was all the proof she needed.
           Adrenaline began to pump through her blood, as her instincts were about to kick in. If there was going to be a fight, she wanted no part in it. It was then that Taehyung and Jimin both placed their hands on her knees, keeping her still.
           “Calm down, Jungkook. Stop being a brat.” Seokjin scolded him once more, his jaw now locked. The young alpha wasn’t listening, didn’t care to. Suddenly all his attention zeroed in on YN as he spoke. “We have to complete the mating bond.” Anxiety began to trickle into YN’s mind and body. No. no. no. no.
           “No.” YN pushed the chair away from the table and stood ready to walk out and leave the house. She should have known better than to trust them. This had been their plan all along, to get her into a situation where she couldn’t escape. As she passed by Namjoon his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, tugging her towards him. The lead alpha had remained silent during the whole ordeal, as YN looked at him with irritation. Namjoon spoke in a calm mellow tone, “Down.” Just like that Jungkook dropped to his knees and began to cry.
           “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Now YN was even more terrified. What the fuck is going on.
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    Rosé: Hey, how’d your first day go?
    YN: Terrible, I don’t even want to talk about it.
     Rosé: Did something bad happen? Did they do something to you?
     Rosé: Are you okay?
     YN: I’m okay. Things are just really strange here. I don’t know how to describe it.
     YN: It's like everyone's on edge, but they're pretending they aren't.
     Rosé: I mean isn’t that kinda normal. You are their mate and you did reject them, so it makes sense.
      Rosé: You never did tell me why you rejected them though.
      YN: It’s a long story and I’m tired. Ttyl. Night.
      Rosé: Good night.
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Hope you enjoyed the story. Tag list is in the comments.
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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youtube
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mypassionfortrash · 4 years
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KICKS (part five)
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After you and Roger nail down his limits, you finally set a date for your first kinky playdate. And, more importantly, you open him up to brand new sensations!
WARNINGS: Strong D/s themes; restraints, edging, overstimulation, facesitting and anal.  STRICTLY 18+. NOTES: Still going strong with this one! Thank you so much for all the kind words and amazing feedback on the first few parts. This chapter’s really long (over 6,000 words) so please brace yourselves! AND PLEASE, IF YOU LIKED THIS, SHARE IT!
CATCH UP: Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four
Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @sarahgurl09​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​ @brianssixpence​​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes @hannafuckingsucks​ @dancingcoolcat​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @theedwardscollection​ @inthelapofrogertaylor​ @lnnuend0​ @just-my-sickly-pride​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @johndeaconshands​ @loveandbeloved29​ @toreyyyyyy 
“Scat? Like… Jazz singing?” Roger’s eyebrows hiked up. “Definite hard limit.”
“You poor thing,” you muttered, wrestling with a scantily clad mannequin.
Roger looked up at you from behind the cash desk. He shrugged. “Well, what does it mean, then?”
“It means shit.”
He scowled, sticking out his tongue. “People get off on that? Having people… shit on them? Fuck that!”
You shrugged and fastened the clasp on the harness bra you had dressed Melanie the Mannequin in. Then you assessed her hard plastic, but still very naked, rack. “Yep. People definitely get off on it,” you said, reaching for a roll of black bondage tape. Melanie didn’t have nipples, but she still looked far too nude to be front and centre in the shop window, so you bit off small strips of tape and stuck two ‘x’ shapes across her breasts. That might keep the locals quiet, you hoped.
“Definite hard limit,” he hummed, checking the box next to ‘scat’ in the book. “Ok, so watersports?”
When Melanie was safely back on display, you turned around to find Roger nodding as he continued to study the book of kinks.
“I love watersports,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean what you think it does either, Roger. And I’m not going to wee on you.”
“Wee on me?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Oh! Oh, fuck, no! Limit limit limit!”
Perching up on the opposite side of the cash desk, you grabbed the book. “Alright, so we’ve got blood, needles, breath play, scat and watersports as hard limits. I’m going to add vomit to this as well because I’m assuming you’re not into that?” you began, glancing up at Roger.
He gave a swift nod in response.
“And feet, hair removal, enemas and blindfolds as soft limits. Why the blindfolds?”
“Betsy.”
“That’s fair.”
“And you want to try orgasm denial, overstimulation, chastity, restraints, spanking, queening – for obvious reasons – as well as pegging with a question mark and… humiliation.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure what pegging is,” Roger said. He knew. The peachy-pink flush that flashed over his jaw and up to his ears gave him away.
“Remember Big Red?” you asked, nodding towards the display on which Big Red lived.
His voice grew smaller as the redness seeped to his cheeks and down to his chest. “Yeah?”
“And how you said you didn’t want anything in your bum? Ever?”
Roger nodded and rubbed his palms together.
“Well, pegging is when your partner puts things up your bum.”
His teeth sank into his lower lip and tugged. “That… that sounds interesting.”
“Still want to try it?”
Roger swallowed hard. Then he nodded.
“And you know what queening is?”
“Not really, but it sounded fun,” he said enthusiastically. Then he leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “What is it?”
“It’s when I sit on your face and you…” you trailed off, flicking your tongue through your fingers.
“Oh, wow! Sign me up!”
“Let’s do that as a reward for you,” you reasoned. “And you remember all of my rules?”
Roger recited your list like a well-prepared boy scout, looking pleased with himself. “No kissing. No touching unless you ask. No penetrative sex.”
“Good.”
“I… I was also reading in the book that some people like pet names – titles – when they’re… you know.”
You laughed and looked down at your hands. They were clasped together on the desk in front of you. “You usually get around to that once you know you’re going to be playing with someone on a regular basis. Why?”
Roger shrugged and smiled sweetly. “I don’t know. I’m just curious what you’d call me.”
“I’ll have to think about that one. See what you’re like when you’re needy and begging,” you purred.
“I can’t wait,” he sighed. “When do you want to… you know?”
Your insides contracted at the thought. ‘It’s too soon,’ your brain screamed. ‘He’s not ready. You’re not ready!’ But the burn between your thighs told you otherwise. Your heart did too, fluttering inside your ribs like a caged animal dying to be set free. “Tomorrow night sound ok?” you blurted.
Roger’s eyes brightened, lighting up even in the corner of the dingy little shop he found himself visiting. “That sounds great.” He went quiet for a moment, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “What will I wear?”
“Well, you’ll be naked for most of it. It won’t matter much. Wear whatever you think will be comfortable.”
“Are we going to Doxy?”
“No, it’s probably better to start off at either your place or mine,” you explained. “Just in case things take a bad turn and you drop really badly.”
“Drop?”
“Sub drop, sorry. Sometimes if you’ve had quite an intense session, you might feel a bit sad or depressed. So it’s always a good idea to be somewhere where you can have some food, a nap, a bath, hugs. Whatever you need to get yourself feeling a bit better.”
“That makes sense,” Roger said. “I can come to you if you want?”
“Perfect. Just make sure you don’t drive to mine. I’d get a taxi there and back, but if you’re feeling shaky afterwards, you can stay the night. I have a spare room.”
“What time?”
“Eight sound alright?”
“It’s a date.”
Nerves paralysed you all day as you waited for eight o’clock to roll around – and for your playdate with Roger. 
You toyed with the idea of cancelling. 
You poked at the thought of feigning food poisoning or the sniffles. 
And briefly entertained the notion, after spending two hours in the bath, of staying in your pyjamas for the whole session – why make the effort if you weren’t going to have sex?
But one phone call to Andie was enough to coax you into the right headspace. As much as you hated her for it.
“But I just don’t feel sexy!” you whined, rifling through your lingerie drawer. “I barely know him.”
“Well, you’ve got enough in that bloody wardrobe of yours to make yourself look sexy, don’t you? Fake it ’til you make it,” she said bluntly. “And besides, maybe this is what you need.”
“What?”
“A very attractive man that clearly wants you but can’t have you. Might do wonders for your confidence.”
You huffed, pulling out a bralette and a pair of silk french knickers.
“He’s a dish. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to take him off your hands.”
“Not necessary,” you said, shuffling out of your bathrobe. “I think I can manage.”
Andie perked up. “So what’s on the cards for tonight, then?”
Using one hand to put your knickers on was a bad idea, so you stuck the phone receiver in the crook of your neck. “What was that?”
“What are you going to do to poor princess Roger?”
“I reckon I’m gonna…” you paused, slipping on your bralette. “I think I’ll start slow. Maybe with a massage or something and work my way up.” Imagining what he’d sound like when he begged slapped a smile on to your face. “I think I’ll edge him until he’s absolutely desperate to get off and then…”
“And then what?” Andie purred.
“I’m going to let him. Over and over. And if he whines, I’ll ask him if he’d rather be belted.”
“You big softie! He’s already turned you to mush.”
“I don’t want to scare him off! And besides, I don’t want to hurt him. I think he’s still a bit hung up on what his ex did to him.”
“Listen to me, you’re going to be just fine. He’s definitely comfortable around you, and that’s the hardest part.”
“Thanks, Andie.”
“And I want details tomorrow morning!”
“I’ll call you first thing. Promise.”
“Alright, darling, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”
Perched on the end of your bed in your underwear, you assessed your reflection in the mirror just in case you had forgotten even the slightest small detail. Your hair was perfectly styled. Your make up was pristine. But you still lacked something. You just couldn’t put your finger on what.
Then the panic came back.
You had made such a big deal about separating all of this from feelings and sex and relationships, and now you found yourself worrying about what Roger might make of your appearance as if you merely existed to appeal to him. A simmering, self-directed rage got the better of you and forced you out of your bedroom in search of another unconstructive way to channel your nerves. 
You found that in your drinks cupboard inside a bottle of vodka. Half measures weren’t something you did. You took the bottle and a glass back to your room, pouring yourself more than you needed as you walked. Only then did it strike you how much your hands shook. And what was missing.
At the end of your hall, a pair of stockings lay stretched across the rungs of your clothes horse with the rest of your laundry. Sinking the entire glass of vodka, a tiny lightbulb pinged to life above your head as you downed the last drop. 
That’s what was missing. 
The caress of nylon on your legs never failed to make you feel like nothing short of a goddess.
You scurried back into your bedroom on unsteady legs and tugged open your lingerie drawer again. Then you plucked out another pair of stockings and a garter belt. You shuffled out of your knickers and slipped on the newest additions to your outfit.
Much better.
You weren’t sure whether your newfound serenity was down to a simple pair of nylons or the triple vodka working its magic, but you felt ready to put Roger through his paces.
Until your brain interjected. Rude.
Were you going to play with him in your bedroom or the spare room?
You huffed, balling up your fists and resting them on your hips. Weighing up the pros and cons of both your options. 
Play here and you wouldn’t have to waste time moving anything into the spare room. 
Play there and you wouldn’t run the risk of having a sleepy Roger in your bed. After all, he was almost a stranger, and you most certainly did not have feelings for him.
You definitely didn’t like him in that way.
Or at least that’s what you told yourself, yanking open your drawer full of kinks. You knew exactly what you were looking for and quickly bundled the accessories into your arms, piling them high until you couldn’t carry any more. And then, you wandered through to the spare room.
You thanked your lucky stars that the bed was perpetually made, usually for drunk friends or when your parents came to visit. The idea of torturing one of the most sought after rockstars in the same bed that your parents occasionally slept in made you shudder. And it just wouldn’t leave your head.
Until the door buzzer pierced through your flat.
“Fuck.”
His voice was so bright when it sounded over the line: “Hi, it’s Roger!
“Come on up.”
As soon as you put the receiver down, you hurried back into the spare room to lay out everything you needed within reach. Your hands went back to trembling and your heart went back to racing. You could hear the rush of blood in your ears above the sound of yourself listing your accoutrements aloud. “Cuffs. Paddle. Lube. Oil.” 
Before you knew it, Roger was at your door, giving it three sharp knocks that forced your soul from your body for a few seconds. You almost didn’t make it to the hall. Apprehension stiffened all the muscles in your legs. Even cracking the door open was a chore.
But all of that subsided when you saw Roger pacing in the landing. The first thing you noticed was how his hands clung to the collar of his coat in a white-knuckled grasp. And then the coy smile on his lips when he spoke. The way he stopped dead, but couldn’t look you in the eye. “You look nice.”
It took every ounce of restraint you had not to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. Instead, you smiled back and stepped aside. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”
For a split second, a bolt of electricity surged through you. The fleeting graze of his coat against your arm. The heady scent of his aftershave. How he ruffled his soft blonde hair as he stood idly and awkwardly in your hall.
All you could manage was a feeble, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not going to lie, I might have had a shot of whisky before I came here.”
“I’m not going to lie, there’s a bottle of vodka sitting on my bedside table,” you laughed. “You’re still sober enough to go through with this, aren’t you?”
“It was just a shot,” Roger said, “don’t worry.”
“Ok,” you nodded. Without saying another word, you wandered over to Roger and unfastened the buttons on his coat. 
His breathing hitched when you edged the heavy fabric down his arms, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with you. “Won’t be needing that,” he chuckled.
That dark-lashed gaze of yours went straight to his gut. “You won’t be needing any of it.”
“Right, yeah,” he said. “Will I… you know… take it all off?”
You arched an eyebrow, “Come through to the spare room first.” Grasping Roger’s hand, you led him through. As soon as he clapped eyes on everything laid out on the bed, his grip tightened. You turned to him to find his eyes widening. “You like the look of this?”
He gulped. Then he nodded.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I’m a bit out of practice myself. It’ll take us a bit of time to get into the swing of things.”
“Looks like you’re already in the swing of things,” he grinned. Before you could croak out a response, Roger was already undressed down to his underwear; red briefs with a growing tent in the middle.
“You look rather smug,” you said, feeling emboldened enough to drag your nails over his collarbones. “Lose the underwear.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be quite the slavedriver?” he grinned.
You shrugged, watching him hop out of them. “Because I am?”
“Good.”
“We’re going to start off really slow, though,” you explained, leading him over to the bed and sitting down next to him on the edge. “I’ll gradually ramp it up a bit but if you need me to drop back a bit, just say: ‘yellow.’ Got it?”
“Got it.”
“And if it gets too much–”
“Red.”
“Red. Good. And please remember to use them. I want you to enjoy this.”
“I will don’t worry,” he said, looking you square in the eye. His cheeks were already flushed.
Before any second thoughts could creep back into the space between you and Roger, you rose to your feet. “And please remember not to touch me unless I ask you to.”
“I have a feeling you’re not going to give me much of a chance to,” he quipped, nodding at the cuffs beside him.
“You’re awfully lippy tonight,” you smirked.
“You make it too easy.”
“Maybe I should leave the slow start and skip to the good stuff.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Or,” you began, stepping forward, “I could make you suffer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Roger didn’t say a word, but he did keen into your touch as your nails clawed down his neck. With one hand on his chest, you didn’t have to use much force to get him to sink backwards. “On your front,” you instructed.
He complied, folding his arms underneath his chin. His calves hung over the edge of the bed, toes wiggling in anticipation.
You bent down close to Roger’s ear. “Good boy.” The sensation of your breath on his neck made him jump, but you noticed his eyes closing and a sweet smile forming. The damage Betsy had done was still visible across his muscles; a reminder to go gentle on him. You wandered around to his other side and grabbed the bottle massage oil lying beside him. Not caring to warm it up, you drizzled some on his spine. He winced, trying to roll on to his side, but his movements weren’t quick enough. He was pinned. Under you. Straddling his hips, you found yourself in prime position to manipulate him exactly as you wished. But first, all you wanted to do was explore him – every inch of him.
The join between his neck and shoulder was a familiar spot. His own hands wandered there all the time. But, for some reason, yours felt better, kneading out knots caused by years of non-stop touring. That, along with the soothing scent of lavender on his skin, turned him to putty in your hands.
He might have fallen asleep like that, too, had it not been for you shuffling lower along his thighs, placing yourself within easy reach of the rest of his back. Using every surface of your hands in slow, agonising waves. Up and out, stretching him until he groaned, overcome with sheer bliss.
“I thought this was all about pain,” he said.
You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. “As much as I’d like to smack that glorious bottom of yours, I think you probably deserve this a little bit more. How does it feel?”
“It feels amazing,” he hummed. “I’ll be a new man after this!”
Impatience almost got the better of you the lower down on Roger’s body that you moved. So much so that you had to bypass his bottom altogether to keep yourself on an even keel. As much as you were dying to see him squirm and hear him beg, the buildup was even more critical. So you slipped off the bed and focused on Roger’s legs instead. Soft yet slender in your hands, you worked more oil up his calves and settled on the backs of his knees. Your fingers moved like feathers over those sensitive spots, coaxing a strained whine from Roger as he tried to squirm away from your touch. “If you don’t lie still, I’m going to have to restrain you,” you warned.
The curves of Roger’s back quivered with a sharp intake of breath at those words. Then he relaxed again. But not for long. 
Moving up towards his thighs, you relished that unexpected softness. You weren’t massaging anymore; instead, you pressed the soft flesh, letting it pale underneath your fingertips. Roger’s thigh parted ever so slightly, granting access to the even more sensitive spots between them. His desire skyrocketed, arching his back when you clawed pink tracks up and down his skin.
“You’re getting needy, aren’t you?” you purred.
“Mmhm. Feels so good,” he said, swaying his hips.
“I bet it does.” A swift smack to Roger’s bottom had him rolling over on to his back. His cheeks were flushed and his breaths were cautious. He moved to cover his eyes with his arm but you quickly stopped him. “I want you to look at me.”
Roger’s jaw slackened but never once did his eyes leave you.
For all the effort you had put into loosening Roger up, his body tightened as you curled the fine hairs on his chest around your fingertips. Unable to even breathe, all Roger could do was lie beneath you, and watch.
And you took pleasure in observing his reaction. He adored your touch, you could see it in the way his pupils blew out every time he looked at you or the way his hips rolled up against yours. “I think I’m going to have to keep you still, Roggie,” you said, finally reaching his hips. You quietened down, lowering your voice to barely a whisper. “Would you like that?”
Roger looked like an angel – his beautiful thick eyelashes fluttered while his gaze shifted to you. The calloused pads on his fingers drummed against your stocking-clad thighs, unable to contain any patience he has left. “I think that would be a good idea,” he said with a contented smile.
“You’re smiling now, Roger. You won’t be later,” you said, removing yourself from him. Then you set about looping thick leather straps around his wrists.
His tongue poked out as he watched in awe, following every single one of your movements, binding him to the headboard. Removing all ability for him to get away from your onslaught. The delight in his smile grew when you straddled him again, just below his swollen, throbbing cock.
“Are you enjoying this?” you said, brushing your nails over his length, encouraging his hips to buck and roll into your grasp. 
Roger bit his lip and nodded, allowing himself to be carried away by the much-awaited contact.
A sharp slap to his thigh jolted him back to his senses. “Use your words.”
“Yes, I love it.”
You gave Roger a sly smirk as you reached for the bottle of lube beside him. With the bottle held high, you allowed beads of the clear liquid to drip down. The freezing cold lube colliding with his skin had him straining against the cuffs, but he soon held still. One scalding hot glance from you made sure of that. 
Apparently, he was the rebellious one in Queen, but here he was, docile and pliable. Doing anything to have his balls drained. 
He wasn’t getting his balls drained that easily. 
You used one hand, slipping his length through your grasp. “Let’s lay down some ground rules about how this is going to go, shall we?” you began, punctuating that with another pass over his cock. “You’re not getting off until I say you can. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he sighed, trying to bury the side of his face into the pillow.
You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “And you’re going to look at me the whole time.”
His voice faltered, glancing down at your hand gathering pace. “Got it.”
“If you come without my permission, you will be punished.”
Roger gulped, casting an eye over to the soft leather paddle beside him. “Will it hurt?”
“Depends on how naughty you are.”
“I promise I’ll be good,” he sighed. “Promise.”
You loomed over Roger, your noses practically touching. “And if you’re good, you’re going to get a little treat.”
“What kind of treat?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Oh god,” he whined just as your free hand joined the party, circling the swollen head of his cock. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”
“Well, you had better start begging.”
A laugh rose in Roger’s chest and he did his best a suppressing it enough to strangle out a feeble, “please.” As if that would convince you that he really did need release. 
“I think you’ve got a little bit longer in you,” you said, finding your rhythm. The slick sounds of those smooth, purposeful motions, coupled with Roger lying underneath you, his lips slightly parted as he looked up with you made the heat between your thighs grow. You really wanted him there and then. 
But this wasn’t about you. 
And Roger was fast reaching the end of his rope. 
You swore you had never seen his cheeks so red.
“Please, please please, I need to come!” he whined. “I’m so close! Oh, god, I’ll do anything.”
A dull ache throbbed in your wrists. But you were desperate to draw this out for as long as possible. It wasn’t what you planned, but it guaranteed your chance to push Roger almost to his limit. “Alright, Roggie, come for me.”
“R-really?” he stuttered.
“Come for me. Be a good boy for me.”
“Oh my god,” he grinned. His eyes closed. His hands grasped at the slats on the headboard. He was buckling up for wave after wave of pleasure to surge through him. 
Except the waves didn’t arrive.
Roger’s eyes shot open with a whine. “What the fuck?!” he squeaked. His mind was too blurry to register that you were in the middle of tugging off your underwear. 
Until your dripping wet cunt lingered just inches from his face.
“I just wasn’t convinced that you really wanted to come.”
“Well, I fucking did!” He was testing you. He had to be.
“Oh, really?” Your patience had worn thin. In one swift movement, you turned and plonked yourself down on Roger’s waiting mouth. “Well, fucking prove it. Show me how much you want it.”
Roger wasted no time allowing his tongue to explore every inch of you that his restraints allowed him to reach. He wasn’t even sure if he could get you off like this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best shot. After all, he was desperate to avoid another ruined orgasm. Ravenous, in fact; sucking and licking at your folds before turning his attention to your clit for a brief moment. And he was sure to let you know just how grateful he was to get to taste you. Every satisfied hum shot through your body, making your hips kick into motion on top of him.
“Finally a good use for that tongue of yours,” you remarked. Leaning forward, you began jacking Roger off again. “Let’s see if you deserve to come this time.”
He sighed against you. He wasn’t about to let another orgasm slip through your fingertips. He had to let you know he wanted it. Eagerly, desperately, his tongue swirled over your clit, gathering its own feverish pace.
Now you started to realise what all the fuss over Roger was about. You had never heard him be so quiet since you met him, and for good reason. He was an expert with his tongue both in an out of the bedroom. 
But you were so fixated on that intoxicating feeling that you neglected your own duties. You looked down to find that your hand was no longer moving along his desperate looking shaft; just idly palming at it. He wasn’t going anywhere with that action.
So you made a conscious effort. Fighting against Roger, you got to work to bring him right to the brink of release. To the point where his moans made you squirm, and the muscles in his thighs tightened again. “Do you want to come for me, Roggie?” you moaned, grinding your cunt against his mouth.
He couldn’t speak. Of course he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop him trying to whine an almost convincing ‘please’ between circling your clit with precision.
“Come on, Roggie, come for me. Come for me,” you urged, grinding your hips with more urgency. 
Just when you were about to allow it, Roger’s attempts at pleasing you stilled. 
Just when he was about to get off, you let go. 
You leaned back and rode Roger’s face. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” you scolded. “Keep going,” you urged. 
Begrudgingly, Roger’s tongue darted over your clit again with the same steady pace in just enough time to stop you from coming down completely. But he made his impatience obvious, angling his hips to lure your attention back to his cock. 
You weren’t going to bow to the pressure right away. 
Why should you? 
When he was this keen to please you, you were hellbent on letting him. 
The sea of pleasure inside you raged. Keeping your balance fast became a chore. You gripped the headboard behind you for dear life, drawing your weight backwards. “God, you’re so good, Roger,” you gasped. “That fucking mouth!” 
Roger moaned against you as you rode his face. He relished this as much as you did. He found himself absolutely addicted to your scent and the sounds you made. The way you moved. 
Hunching over, you gripped Roger’s thighs as your own stiffened on either side of his face. Immobilised by the most intense, soaring bliss you had ever experienced, you were certain you were going to see stars after this. It felt like your body had shut down as it welcomed the electricity that pulsed through you.
Coming down, you were met by the sound of Roger trying to urge you off of him. You didn’t even know how long you had been out for. And here he was just dying to get off. 
How selfish of you to neglect your new little plaything. 
Sitting up straight, still straddling Roger’s face, you inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to gather your composure. Every muscle in your body felt like liquid as you moved, turning yourself around to get a good look at him. 
He looked pleased with himself. His sickeningly pretty features were scarlet and glistened with sweat and arousal and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Just a little taste.
But you couldn’t. Feelings were out of the question.
“I think you really deserve to come, Roger, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he sighed with a soft expression.
“I think you deserve a really, really big reward for being such a good boy,” you teased, swiping your thumb along his lower lip. 
“I do. Thank you.”
Your free hand crept down to Roger’s cock again. Still hard and throbbing. “And you know that I only want to make you feel really really good?” No holds barred.
“Mmmhm.”
“Good boy,” you praised. 
Even hearing that made Roger’s muscles twitch. “You’re not gonna do that to me again, are you?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut. Bracing himself for disappointment.
“No, darling,” you soothed, “you can come as much as you like now. Any time you like.”
Roger must have sensed the change in your tone when you spoke, because as soon as you gave him permission, his whole body shook and the only words he could manage was a strangled, “thank you!”
He came down quickly; most men did. But what struck him when the fog in his head cleared was that you weren’t done with him just yet – even though he had to crane his neck to see you at the foot of the bed with your tongue gliding over the shaft of his cock.
“Oh fuck,” he sighed, throwing his head back.
“You didn’t think it’d be over that soon, did you? That would’ve been disappointing.”
“No! Just… just be careful!”
You couldn’t resist. You had to make him suffer even just a tiny bit. So, with a devilish smirk, you swirled an excruciatingly slow lap around the tip of his cock, savouring the last drops of cum that glazed it. 
Roger hissed, but his hips told a different story – bucking wildly in time to your efforts. Pressing his cock into your mouth. “Fuck,” he cursed again. 
With one hand, along with your mouth, you settled into another determined rhythm. Your hand worked his shaft, while your tongue tackled just the tip. Roger had surpassed the initial pain and was back to gazing down at you in awe. His teeth clenched together. His wrists tugging at their binds. But the sheer girth of his cock meant that it was only a matter of minutes before a dull ache seeped into your jaw if you so much as attempted to take any more of him in your mouth. 
And it would take longer this time around for him to come. 
Then you spied the bottle of lube nestled against Roger’s hip. The jewel in the crown of your new master plan.
Roger’s cock left your mouth with a pop, just long enough to check in with him before you proceeded. After all, his legs were still wild and free; you didn’t want to risk being kicked in the face. Some men didn’t take well to what you were about to do. “Do you trust me?” you asked, gazing up at him with wild eyes.
“Not gonna lie,” he puffed, “after all of this, I’m starting to have trust issues.” The broad smile he shot you told you he was joking.
You reached for the lube with your free hand and kept your sights trained on him. “I need to hear you say it though. I can’t make you feel really really good if I don’t think your heart’s in it.” He couldn’t see what you were doing, but he did strain to see what the suspicious click was when you opened the bottle and squeezed some lube on to your fingertips. 
“I trust you.”
“Good,” you said, bringing your lips down on to the head of his cock again. Concealing what your free hand was preparing to do. 
When Roger was safely duped into believing that your intentions were genuinely pure, you pressed a finger to his backdoor, massaging his tight, sensitive ring. At the same time, your tongue continued to flutter over the head of his cock. The new sensation had him mewling in delight. You never expected that reaction from him. Even the way he rolled his hips for leverage against your finger. Slowly you eased it inside him, right up to the knuckle. Then you curled it in on itself, seeking out his sweet spot.
“Fuck,” he purred. 
“Feel good?” you asked.
“Better than I thought, god.”
You slipped a second finger inside him, applying just the right amount of pressure for his breathing to labour. Now was the time to take things up a notch. To put on a show for him. Taking as much of Roger’s cock as you could in your mouth, you made a point of making as much noise and as much mess as you could. Your spit made his cock glisten and pass through your lips just that little bit easier. Sometimes it overshot and caught the back of your throat. He seemed to love it when your mascara started to run. 
“I-I think I’m gonna come again,” he groaned. He was beginning to tense up again; everywhere, including around your fingers.
You gave a pleased moan in response, not wanting to let up too soon. 
“Oh, I’m definitely gonna–“
That orgasm had already rolled into another, not allowing Roger any letup. Your hand and your mouth were missing from his cock, but your fingers still pressed up against that one magic spot inside him. His legs continued to spasm alongside your efforts. 
“Got another one in the tank for me?” you grinned.
“I think so,” he gasped.
“I’m gonna take these cuffs off you, Roggie,” you said, scrambling to your knees, fingers still working towards one final explosion of pleasure. “You ready?”
He nodded profusely. “Please.”
With one hand still preoccupied inside Roger, you stretched over him. You swore you felt the tip of his nose caress your chest. Your other hand unbuckled each cuff around his wrists, and, with him being the obedient little submissive he was showing himself to be, his hands didn’t go straight to your waist or your thighs. Instead, they draped delicately above his head with his elegant hands clenching into bony fists.
You stroked his matted, sweat-soaked hair. “One more, darling,” you soothed.
Roger nodded. “One more.”
“Touch yourself for me,” you said, moving backwards to get a better view. 
Roger groaned as his fingers tentatively wrapped around his semi-hard cock.
“That’s it. You look so pretty like this.”
“Fuck,” he whined. The fingers on his other hand raked through his hair, tugging at the roots to get a handle on the stinging sensitivity between his thighs. 
“You can go a little bit faster for me, can’t you?”
“Yes.” He could, but he had to force it. He gritted his teeth and moved his hand quicker, with more purpose. In the back of his mind, he was sure his cock would never work again after this. Certain he never wanted to come again. And he definitely didn’t have enough energy left inside him to coax out another orgasm. But he still wanted to hear you praise him, to tell him how good he looked, jacking himself off right there in front of you. His whole body trembled, and his skin was saturated with sweat. 
“You’re so beautiful Roggie.”
His hand moved a little bit faster. “Thank you.”
Your free hand trailed up his chest towards his neck. “You love coming for me, don’t you?”
Faster still. “Yes.”
You gave it a slight squeeze. Enough to quieten his moans for a moment. “And you love having that gorgeous arse of yours fucked while you do it?”
Even faster, ’til he could barely get the words out. “Mmm, I love it.”
You leaned in close to Roger’s ear. “Next time we do this,” you began, “it won’t be my fingers. I’m not going to go easy on you, Roggie. I’m going to put that tight little arse of yours through its paces and really make you squeal.”
NEXT >>
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rhydium · 3 years
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Info dumbo about the StarFinite story?
aright u asked for it anon GET READY [cracks knuckles] this is gonna be long so obligatory cut in 3, 2........
...1!
so the uh, the au! the story!! w/e yall wanna call it! full disclaimer, i only began working on this whole thing a while ago, but it's totally taken over my fukn brain. like, we're talking big hyperfixation hrs. am i cringe for being this invested in my own content? yes? cool i do not Care >:3€
i should also throw it out there real quick that i am kin w/ infinite, n this is actually one of my two canons (both of which are my own aus lmfao wow). i didn't go into it expecting it to be but sfsfsgdfs here we are ig!! for that reason it's got extra importance to me n this definitely contributes to the euphoria i get from it!! it's a lil odd writing ur own canon,,? but i kinda just go w/ the flow!
the au n, the story that i will start Eventually, revolves around infinite n starline (obvi) n it's honestly just ... the tl;dr is big healing momence n, what's this? uh oh sisters !!! they are falling in love 😳😳😳
uhhhh so infinite is an android, made by eggman. that's like, the most notable canon divergence here! super important context to have. i've got a whole big theory on the possibility of sega originally intending infinite to be an artificial being (which i explored in the works for my Other canon too), stemming from not only the scene in forces wherein infinite comments on sonic's "data", but a line of dialogue from tails in one of the last stages of the game where he Literally Says "so this is where eggman built infinite". that ... i mean. that contrasts w/ episode shadow pretty hard don't it?? would explain why that dlc was so rushed, n the comic too. ANYWAY adsfsfs um that's a seperate ramblepost. yeah!!!
they are also agender n use they/them (primarily) as well as he/him!! so i'll be refering to them w/ those pronouns!
after the war, infinite is taken in by the resistance n, instead of being dismantled, they're basically given a chance to rehabilitate themselves. it's agreed that they won't be reprogrammed, as despite the potential risks, it feels wrong to do so; like a violation of their free will, individuality n thinking. if infinite is to be a good person, it's not gonna be bc other ppl recreated their entire personality, it's gonna be bc it's what they themselves truly want. robot ethics idk man!! u can't tell me that sonic n co wouldn't offer this to infinite if they offered it to metal in IDW,,,, i am Standing By This!!!
it's, yknow, a bit rocky, at first. infinite has to really fight the urge to return to eggman (something they already tried once, before the resistance found them; they were cast out). it's a struggle against what they were built to do, against giving into unhealthy familiarity over facing a, while healthier, unfamiliarity. new faces, a new life, turning their back on their mission n creator, it's like, a lot.
they work for/with the sonic crew, rebuilding the world they tore down as deemed fitting justice, being closely monitored for a bit as a natural precaution. as it becomes apparent infinite truly no longer has any ambition to harm others (they don't have much ambition for anything, really), they're then granted more freedom, n start taking on more important missions!! it at least gives them something to do, keeps them occupied. they have issues with dissociation, unreality, whether they're truly a real person bc, well, android. feeling purposeless, n a lack of worth, especially. a need to prove themselves. heavy stuff. i'll kinda go into that a bit more in a sec. their work grounds them, if only temporarily.
n soooooo... IDW comic stuff happens. metal virus time. starline gets kicked out of the empire.
now, as the comics are ongoing, n as this is already an au, there's gonna be divergence, n i must admit i haven't planned out all that yet. there's a lot i have to consider!! infinite being w the resistance/restoration is a big game changer ... tho i Do believe that they were absent, likely on a far out mission during most of the chaos. eggman doesn't know abt them, nor does starline or anyone else other than the sonic crew; n some civilians that recognise them.
i'm not 100% sure of Exactly when it happens, but i think it's just after bad guys, that infinite is sent to locate n bring in starline. it doesn't prove too difficult. there's a whole, starline realising "oh fuck it's you???", some bickering n, the two don't hit it off right away. they're both kinda like. not mentally stable ddgddgdds,,,
so uh. starline ends up essentially going thru the same sorta shit as infinite. careful watch, rebuilding, all that jazz, making sure he can be trusted. he's like... very very lost, quite like infinite is. the world has kinda calmed down, in the meanwhile.
it's at this point i'm gonna go ahead n drop a bit of a ramble i subjected my friends to a while ago, to articulate the way i see the two, n their dynamic together!! i was considering making this it's own post a while ago!
analysing their characters a bit... let's look at starline. Like. so we have this, in bad guys, which SENT ME tbfh;
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i feel like it's the moment that triggers starline onto the path he is rn canonically,,, he's clearly like. rly mad n bitter. the core of this?? he wants his work n his efforts to be acknowledged.
he's big angry. still kind of in denial at this stage. he has himself obsessed w/ the idea of making eggman see him as Worthy, that if he just tries hard enough, that'll happen. he's dependent on eggman's validation, n i mean, it's no surprise; he's followed him a Long Time by the sounds of it.
then in the recent issue, hold the fuck up, bc we got, This;
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god. my god it's all comin together now homies. this???? this right here??? it is the CLASSIC "i have to do this to prove i'm strong n powerful n smart n worthy n should be respected please Give Me Acknowledgement" ..... n who else is Like That? can u see where im going w/ this?
i think most ppl are aware of infinite's character being extremely indicative of self worth/esteem issues n the need to prove themself, right?? the extreme adversity, repulsion, perhaps even fear toward the idea of being weak. the compulsion to prove otherwise, to show their strength, to become powerful, to conquer to make a point. their theme exudes this same energy as their behaviour in-game; an aggressive attitude, trying to assert themself, while if u rly listen...? the lyrics are actually really sad in places. it reeks of cover up, although composition wise, a v interesting thing to note is a lot of the more telling lyrics are prominent while some of the affirming ones are in the background. indicative of a desire to have their true feelings be heard but caught in a vicious loop?
okay okay that's yet Another different analysis. AHEM.
not to get deep on main (oh who the hell am i kidding that's the point of this entire thing) but i think starline has issues w/ his worth in a similar way to infinite. they both seem to have this need to Prove something, whether it's to others or themselves, n get caught in a toxic spiral of doing worse n worse things for Some kind of validation or acknowledgement. they'll go to really big lengths chasing that, n both of them ultimately sought validation in the wrong place n wrong way.
this is a big part of my starfinite dynamic,, n so, what happens, as they get closer n open up??? we have them BOTH realising together that they don't have to do fuck all to prove anything to anyone. they don't need to do all this to show they're strong n smart n worth something, not to anyone else OR themselves. they're enough as they are. they bond over that shared feeling that they have to do xyz, to prove themselves, n that desire to just finally be acknowledged n appreciated n help each other thru it. to help each other understand that other ppls approval, or lack thereof, doesn't define them, their strength, intelligence, and worthiness.
i feel like they have an interesting parallel between them in like... the above could be taken as a general analysis, but to go more in depth on this au specifically?? ...
starline followed eggman for presumably a long time n it no doubt left him feeling a heavy and deep regret for all that time wasted n spent on an unhealthy path. infinite kinda teaches him that what matters is what he's doing Now n also reminds him that if none of it happened, starline wouldn't have learnt a lot of the serious skills he has. n while starline still feels bad, he also realises himself that, he likely never would have crossed infinite's path if none of it happened. for that reason, he wouldn't take it back.
infinite has only been recently made, on the other hand. they haven't really existed long, yet, but so far their experiences haven't been very positive n it can be .... discouraging. starline sorta, shows infinite their limited experiences w/ the world are a very tiny fraction of what's out there, n things can absolutely change, yes, including for the better; that's the essence of life, a neverending, constant flow of change.
it's a big tale of moving on n letting go, honestly; made easier as they're doing it together. n as they heal n grow, well... these bitches gay. sfshshdgds like, ig that's putting it p bluntly but!! they start to trust each other, understand each other more. as they get to truly know who the other is, they both start developing The Feelings. they're both pretty oblivious n the reveal is totally unknown so far!! yeah, i know, bummer. i suck. boo. adafsfsds however i can say there will be lots of content in the making!! if that soothes the soul! i've got of ideas i hope to bring to life.
ofc there's still a lot of more specific things i haven't covered here so! if y'all want more juice hmu w/ more focused questions but !! this is the overview n i hope it was a decent read now that gave some uhhh! Cool Insight! yea!!! ✌
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zaritarazi · 4 years
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I'm thinking of a Marlie Beauty and the Beast AU
okay let me set this scene for you. we’re flipping it. bc we know for a fact that mick is very bookish when left to his own devices and also, cannot stress this enough, does not want to talk to anyone, ever. they’re like oh there goes mick, he’s daddy but he never talks to anyone, that’s the song now. he’s daddy but he’s kind of weird that mick
and then there’s charlie who may or may not be an elder god or some kind of demi god like here i am just me, charlie, having a great time scaring some townsfolk, living in this hugeass castle, just me, all alone, that’s how it’s always going to be, me, charlie, over here by myself. im fine and happy with this
so how does mick even get up there?? like this is mick he’s a grumpy daddy writer who wears his period-appropriate shirts stretched over his bara tiddies like who would gaston even be in this situation. barry??? is it barry??? i dont know he seems like he’d fuck around and bother charlie and mick with his life’s problems.... i mean who knows. we don’t need a gaston in this. i want gustin’s role CUT from the musical
okay so we all know mick is a widower. this is not news. and one night some local youths, probably on a dare, sneak into his house and steal like, len’s old pocketwatch or something and mick chases after them up the hills into the woods where they are of course, stopped by some kind of horrible blob thing that is like 2 stories tall and made of like oil slick colored shiny mud-like material and it’s essentially just like, an evil, cackling face in this wall of dripping muck and mick is like oh for FUCK’s sake. he’s like i cannot bELIEVe i have to protect the local youth from THIS. give me back my dead husband’s watch you fucking idiot children. i hope this thing kills me i truly do
oh also worth noting of course is that mick has been carrying a bigass torch this whole time. it’s very sexy and powerful of him
anyway one of the idiot kids starts throwing rocks at this fucking thing and mick is like oh for the love of FUCK and when the creature lurches forward he tries to light it on fire and it shrieks out and the youths are yelling and the giant blob is yelling and in the fray of this thing trying to reach out and grab the youths and drag them along the road and maybe like, blob them up a little? you know just to teach them a lesson, mick gets thrown into a tree and he drops the watch and he gets a concussion and is probably unconscious for like, a day.
so he wakes up and his head is POUNDING and he’s in this OLD ass bed with fresh sheets and he’s still in like, his coat and his nightshirt and the pair of pants that he managed to pull on quickly but his boots are gone and the watch is gone and he’s also fucking famished. he’s like well at least this isn’t the first time i’ve woken up in a strange place and needed to get out quickly but i had hoped i’d gotten too old for this SHIT
okay mick wandering around this old old old castle again, we’re gonna have him carrying a torch bc of the imagery, it’s very good, and he finally finds the kitchen with all the pots and pans hanging up and like the big wood-fire stove and all that jazz. he’s like great. fantastic. there’s some bread and some jam and mick is like perfect let me just guzzle this and then. and then the candleabra comes to life and starts talking, and mick is like, well, i’ve hit my head a lot of times in my life, i think i should just uh, let that one go. and ray, who is obviously the lumiere, and nate, who is obviously cogsworth, bc they are gay and in love, are like. oh my GOD. a GUEST. mick is still ignoring them and candle!ray is like okay we’re gonna sing the welcome song to you now and mick is like if you do that, i will destroy you both with my bare hands
nate: it’s a GOOD song
mick: i doubt that
ray: can we at least do the first verse
mick: no
nate: haha anyway do you like men 
mick: you are a clock
honestly if mick is like “so uh why the fuck can you two talk” they just look at each other and are then like “honestly we have no idea. maybe we’re enchanted items?? we have fun here” and mick like great. outstanding. where is the exit. and nate like YOU CANT LEAVE. YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE. mick is like staring at him kind of shocked and then he and ray start laughing like hahahahahah you should see how stupid you look. it’s this way come on
mick: hey while i’m here. you’re a clock. have you seen a watch around here
nate: WOW. you just think all timepieces know each other? that’s so offensive
ray: he didn’t know
ray: but you should really apologize
mick: hey. let me ask. am i dead? is this hell? is that what’s going on?
okay but seriously mick can’t leave without that watch. and they’re like, well charlie usually keeps stuff she finds up in the study, but you’re probably not allowed in there. and mick is like this is literally, literally a kidnapping, so why don’t we just go in for a pound here and you two can take me to the study
nate: oh he said pound
ray: i heard it was very fun and sexy of him
mick: 
okay but like as they’re walking through the halls and nate and ray are giving mick just absolutely terrible directions, and he like has to carry them around, essentially, so now that’s his problem, he keeps seeing something out of the corner of his eye flitting around in the shadows and he’s like listen im sure this is all one big concussive nightmare and/or i’m dead so let’s just go with it, he notices that sometimes the shadow seems to reach out to him with a long, sharp hand and sometimes he thinks he can see the face of the monster from before, and like GOD how many STORIES does this castle fucking have? are we even NEAR the study? ray like oh crap i thought you meant the library. the study is on the other side of the building. mick just yelling SON OF A BITCH so loudly the fucking birds fly away outside
mick like so. that giant monster. is that who lives here?? nate and ray making extremely conspicuous looks at each other and going WHAT monster?? theres no MONSTER. there’s the person who owns the castle but thats not a MONSTER. monsters are just a MYTH. maybe YOU’RE the monster. have you thought about THAT.
okay. we make it into the study and there’s charlie dressed like a proper french soldier from the 17th century, for the EFFECT, and charlie is sitting on the desk one leg crossed over the other like HELLO i haven’t be WAITING for you or anything to nate and ray in a not whisper what the fuck took you two so long them like we got lost. it’s very hard we are very small. 
anyway charlie sticking out her leggy real far i’m sure your looking for your watch but before i can give it back to you i have to ask you a FAVOR. and mick is like sure whatever but before i do that. holds out nate and ray. what the fuck is this. charlie is like i have no idea they were here when i got the place why mick like well. that makes as much sense as anything else.
not totally sure what mick needs to do for charlie but he would sure love to know where his boots are and maybe get a proper change of clothes and a real meal, if possible
ray: we were GOING to feed you
mick: how
ray: it happens during the SONG
mick: then i’ll starve
so now mick is stuck in this castle with charlie, who is like very small but also deeply suspicious, the talking decorations, and he’d be more keen on getting out of here if charlie didn’t seem so interested in having him over, and if he wasn’t so curious about why she’s interested, or how this tiny little waif becomes a huge monster, (he wonders if she thinks he won’t notice the shadow she casts) or why she’s a monster, and it’s all very confusing to him but her eyes swallow him whole and he thinks he might have to help her out even if he’s not quite sure how. 
also for the big ballroom scene they BOTH wear men’s formalwear for the dance. It is VERY good. 
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nightcoremoon · 5 years
Text
ok so let's talk twilight. girl meets vampire. girl falls in love with vampire. vampire falls in love with girl. girl and vampire start dating. evil vampire wants to eat girl. vampire kills evil vampire.
new moon. vampire leaves girl. girl gets depressed. girl rebounds with werewolf. werewolf wants to fuck girl. werewolf realizes he's the rebound. werewolf leaves girl. girl seemingly attempts suicide. vampire learns about this and attempts suicide. girl goes to tell him she's not dead. vampire king gives a warning.
eclipse. vampire and girl are back together. evil vampire girlfriend wants revenge. evil vampire girlfriend makes evil vampire army. vampires and werewolves kill evil vampire and army. vampire king gives another warning. vampire marries girl.
breaking dawn. vampire and girl get married. and fuck. girl gets pregnant. baby will kill girl. but abortion is ~evil~. girl dies and gets turned into vampire. werewolf wants to fuck the baby vampire. vampire king shows up to kill the baby. it was a big misunderstanding lol. happily ever after except for the people who died.
that's the gist of things for anyone who doesn't remember.
ok so there's two groups of people. team edward, people who are satisfied with the canon. team jacob, people who say "fuck that, girl should be with werewolf instead". and many people on team jacob proceed to say that team edward all condone pedophilia and stalking and other terrible things. fandom wars happened. and in the end, most people moved on.
...
but not me.
now, I wasn't an obsessed super fan. I thought the first book was boring as shit until the second half. it took me a month to read the first half and three days to read the second half. I read the entire second in literally one day. the entire third in like 3 days. and the entire fourth in like 5. I watched all the movies in theaters. but none of this was by choice. my mom and my several sisters basically made me, but it was okay I guess. personally my fandom progression started with final fantasy 12. it moved into eragon, death note, jak and daxter, avatar the last airbender, invader zim, tales of symphonia, a dash of harry potter, sly cooper, my little pony friendship is magic, dead space, red vs blue, twokinds, resident evil, etc. I'm not in the twilight fandom by choice, but I know all the lore and trivia so fuck it. I might as well be.
I'm team edward.
I know what you're thinking. "but he's 100 years old trying to fuck a teenager! he watched her sleep! he almost killed her drinking her blood! he made her suicidal and depressed! he was super jealous and possessive whenever jacob was around! he broke her bones when they had sex! he impregated her with a monster baby that killed her! HE IS TEH EVILEST EVAR!!1"
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let's take this one piece at a time.
1- he didn't try to fuck her. she tried to fuck him. but he said not until she's a full grown adult capable of making her own decisions, and not until marriage ~because premarital sex is wrong~
2- yeah watching her sleep was a little creepy but we can attribute that to stephenie meyer thought it was romantic because she's a dumb white mormon cultist
3- he is a VAMPIRE, and not by choice. and it was either suck the poison out of bella or let her become a vampire. which he didn't want to happen because ~being a vampire sucks 🥁~ so yeah he saved her life. and he managed to not drain her dry and kill her even though her blood is so goddamn delicious because she's a fucking mary sue
4- he didn't make her suicidal and depressed by leaving the country so she didn't get in any life threatening situations like being around jasper who has the self control of a fat kid in a twinkie factory. bella just took the breakup really really badly, and if someone reacts badly to a breakup, it's on THEM, not the other person. saying any differently is, what's the word, toxic and clingy. her emotional instability for plot is just indicative of the author's inherent misogyny (which makes sense, as dumbass mormon cultists are rife with the stuff)
5- he was not jealous and possessive. JACOB was the one who was toxic, since "that cold one will TAKE MY BELLA AWAY FROM ME". jacob wanted bella for himself because he had a crush on her since they were kids, and it was a super unhealthy obsession. edward could read his thoughts and was pissed; consider his backstory in hearing potential rapists' thoughts and killing them. but edward couldn't kill jacob because he was bella's friend. nothing more, though, and jacob fumed in his nice guy fedora
6- again, edward is a VAMPIRE, and a horny bastard at that, because he is a gentleman and therefore probably was a virgin too. he even told bella countless times that it would happen but bella thought it was #WORTH to get some of that hot vampire dick. I guess she's into some super kinky shit. no wonder 50 shades of grey made sense as a twilight fanfiction. anyway, bella seems to have fully consented, otherwise she's the world's most unreliable narrator.
7- the monster baby plot arc was propaganda against female bodily autonomy because "teh babby haz a SOUL and abortion is MURDER even tho she'll LITERALLY DIE otherwise but hey backwoods redneck mormon values are more important than the lives of women, right? anyway, ironically enough, he respected her bodily autonomy by not fixing the mistake he didn't think could happen (uterus vampires can't get pregnant but dick vampires can get other people pregnant? NANI, THE FUCK???) because bella didn't consent to him killing the fetus that was literally breaking her bones from inside since ~abortion is wrooOOoong~
and now, counterpoint.
...and counter-counterpoint.
"edward groomed bella" edward's main focus when she was 16 was to not kill her and drink the delicious cherry fanta, and his main focus at 17 was to make sure she didn't die and that nobody else killed her and drank her delicious cherry fanta, and only when she was a full ass adult was he like "alright fine you wanna marry me sooooo bad here's ur fuckin diamond ring". yeah they made out but like, consider that a FUCKING MORMON WROTE THIS BOOK. one can't fault a character for the dumbassery of the author. that's why in this house we stan james potter. and besides, a few years ago whilst playing truth or dare I at 21 was dared to kiss a 17 year old and I did- granted I didn't know he was 17 at the time but that doesn't even matter because granted edward was a lot older than 21, but granted that doesn't even matter anyways because you know how many teenage girls would make out with oscar wilde, keanu reeves, chris evans, or danny devito jason momoa if they had the chance? I know I would have. it isn't necessarily sexual unless you want it to be. besides, the argument could be made that brain development stops when you become a vampire, considering their body stops developing too. technically edward had the brain and body of a 17 year old, he was just 17 for a long time. so any way you slice it, there are acceptable explanations justifying this in the magic fantasy land of what-ifs and JUST BAD WRITING.
we good?
now let's tackle jacob.
he demanded she "choose" him over edward. he was just as childish and petty as mike. oh, poor mike. he was just too dumb. SWM be like. anyway, he literally abandoned her, his friend, because she wouldn't fuck him, when she needed her best friend the most. because that's who jacob was to her. he was her best friend. she kinda ignored him because edward is smexy and it overpowered her tiny teenage girl brain, or at least that's the author's excuse (yay for internalized misogyny). when they were in the mountains and he was keeping her from dying of hypothermia edward literally had to ask him to stop thinking about fucking her. while she was unconscious. which is kinda rapey. and then to top it all off, he wanted to fuck her baby daughter. so jacob is literally every single thing people called edward. he is jealous, possessive, creepy, obsessed with bella, and a whole bunch of other stereotypes associated with brown skinned man wanting to fuck white skinned women.
...
...
...
oh dear god.
wow I can't believe that the white woman who took an existing native american tribe and rewrote their culture to fit her vampire love story for white girls to have a sexy ~exotic~ savage feral werewolf boy in the love triangle turned out to be a racist all along.
so ideally, jacob would be the ideal partner for bella. lore-wise as well. bella and jacob grow old together in their plain regular normal human lives (and hopefully bella's face doesn't get clawed off like sam and leah BIG OOF FOR THE DOMESTIC VIOLENCE), edward and tanya get married like they were supposed to do all along and gallivant off and do vampire things, all that jazz. edward isn't creepy and weird, bella isn't a magic mary sue with a magic fucking jean grey mind shield, jacob isnt an asshole.
but after reading the books and the evidence provided, I cannot in good conscience be team jacob over team edward.
thank you for your time.
fuck stephenie meyer.
and fuck all the dudebros who dog on girls for liking twilight anyways, as if dudebros don't watch and consume shitty media all the time.
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Note
All weird asks!! They're so good!
Sorry this is a bit late, babe! I wanted to wait til I had the opportunity to answer all these uninterrupted!
1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?
Coffee mugs! tbh I drink tea out of coffee mugs because who actually uses teacups? I mean my grandma has tons and I would use them, but the handles are so tiny and I am v clumsy so it scares me.
2. chocolate bars or lollipops?
Chocolate bars!!! I’m too impatient for lollipops and plus they always get coated in saliva which just...drips down my chin since my mouth is already full.
3. bubblegum or cotton candy?
Bubblegum! I love cotton candy but I can only handle a bit at a time tbh. Also I haven’t had bubblegum in almost two years bc of braces and I miss it so much I can’t wait to have it again.
4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?
Okay, so even though I’ve always been homeschooled, when I was in elementary school we did this program with a ton of other homeschoolers where you could take actual classes and stuff. My teachers always said I was quiet and focused and studious, and you could always count on me to be lecturing everyone else on the instructions if they hadn’t been paying attention. (does any of that surprise anyone?)
5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? GLASS SODA BOTTLES. nothing beats soda that’s been bottled in glass rather than plastic. You ever had orange cream soda from a glass bottle????? SLAPS ASS MY DUDE.
6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?
Pastel/boho/preppy/goth, my dude. I have so many sides to my fashion and aesthetic.
7. earbuds or headphones?
EARBUDS BC HEADPHONES NEVER FIT OVER MY EARS RIGHT. BUT EARBUDS WITH SOFT TIPS BECAUSE MY EARS ARE TOO SMALL FOR THE PLASTIC ONES.
8. movies or tv shows?
Tv shows tbh because even though I can binge 4 eps of 45 minutes each per night, they’ll hold my attention a lot more than a movie. It’s weird.
9. favorite smell in the summer?
Thunderstorms/petrichor, also natural bogs. PEAT BOG SMELL FUCKING SLAPS.
10. game you were best at in p.e.?
None. I liked trampoline time back when we took gymnastics, if that counts. I also liked jump roping and Irish step dancing.
11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?
Nothing lmao. I sleep til like noon and then I microwave something for lunch.
12. name of your favorite playlist?
My catchall playlist, Things I Love, my summer playlist, Summer Songs, my Gryffindor playlist, My Queen And Country playlist for writing, and my playlist for The Raven Cycle. (after I post this I’ll edit it and link them)
13. lanyard or key ring?
Keyring, a lanyard would like constantly detract from my outfit if that makes sense???
14. favorite non-chocolate candy?
Sour Patch Kids or Swedish Fish.
15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?
Between The Grapes Of Wrath, The Great Gatsby, The Handmaid’s Tale, and To Kill A Mockingbird!
16. most comfortable position to sit in?
Just fucking sprawled every which way.
17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?
My grey converse if it’s comfortable out, my silver flip flops if it’s hot, and my fur-lined black combat boots if it’s cold.
18. ideal weather?
65-70 degrees, partly sunny, breezy, not humid.
19. sleeping position?
I need to sprawl to fall asleep, but once I’m asleep I curl up into a little ball.
20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?
Laptop and notebook ONLY IF I’m sure of myself, which isn’t often. But I do write dense, scribbled paragraphs on sermon note pages if something comes to me during church lmao.
21. obsession from childhood?
The American Revolution, weather, astronomy, and mysteries/ghost stories.
22. role model?
Idk tbh? Lately I’m just trying to define and live up to my own standards?
23. strange habits?
Pulling the collar of my shirt up to my mouth and sucking on it. Also being a perfectionist in my writing. I don’t do messy drafts. It’s all perfect by the time I write it, and I edit/spellcheck as I go.
24. favorite crystal?
Amethyst (my birthstone), bismuth, opal, and blue goldstone.
25. first song you remember hearing?
Other than nursery rhymes/kid’s songs, it was Light Up The Sky by The Afters, or California Dreamin’ by The Mamas And The Papas.
26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?
Find shade/a cool spot and read with a cold drink.
27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?
ALSO READ. And snuggle with thick socks and a cup of tea and play DS games all day.
28. five songs to describe you?
My five faves atm -
I Am Here // Pink
The Pines // Roses and Revolutions
Soldier, Poet, King // The Oh Hellos
Traveler’s Song // Aviators
Hymn // Kesha
29. best way to bond with you?
Share my interests about politics, history, books, true crime, paranormal, tv shows, and also be kind and understanding when I don’t text for long periods bc I don’t feel up to talking.
30. places that you find sacred?
The woods on the hill behind my house. Dense, deeply green, secluded woods. Hedge mazes. Old and crumbling castles. Anywhere beneath a clear sky and a full moon. Your heart when you’ve come to terms with your fears and made peace with yourself. Anyplace with historical significance. Bookstores on an autumn/winter day. Libraries.
31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?
A kickass plaid, bruh. Also my leather jacket - once I lose enough shoulder weight to fit in it again.
32. top five favorite vines?
Fre shavoc ado, the one where the dog eats the butterfly, the Lin-Manuel Miranda one where he’s brainstorming, “what the FUCK kind of weather is this, and the dad and son with the saxophone and the oven door.
33. most used phrase in your phone?
“oh mood”
34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?
“WOW! It’s NatureStone!”
35. average time you fall asleep?
Right now it’s 4-5 am because I suck.
36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?
I Can Haz Cheezburger, My mom used to look at the website with me when I was like 10.
37. suitcase or duffel bag?
They both have pros and cons. :/ Duffel bags are easier to carry but suitcases keep stuff from getting broken better.
38. lemonade or tea?
TEAAAAAAAAAAAA
39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?
Lemon meringue pie!!! my stepdad made a really good one the other week.
40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?
Nothing, since I was homeschooled. Same weird shit that always happens at home. Our safe word for when I got overwhelmed in math was “quokka” and we’d stop and look at cute quokka pictures.
41. last person you texted?
My gf :)
42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?
Jacket pockets because things are not only hard to fit in girls’ pants pockets, but if you put a chapstick/lipstick in there it starts to melt :(
43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?
BETWEEN HOODIE AND CARDIGAN. SO VERSATILE. SO COMFY.
44. favorite scent for soap?
Irish Spring soap or the blue Dial bars smells better and cleaner than anything to me.
45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?
Fantasy. It can take me a bit to get into it, but once I do, I love it. I only do sci-fi if it has rebellion and isn’t heavy on the sci. And superhero movies are great but a lot of the tropes are meh. Fantasy has a lot more versatility if you ask me.
46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?
Sweatpants/leggings and a soft, well worn tee.
47. favorite type of cheese?
Parmesan, white cheddar, or Muenster.
48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?
Raspberry!
49. what saying or quote do you live by?
“do no harm but take no shit.”
50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?
A really poorly edited political ad on tv a couple years ago. There was weird jazz playing, flames in the background of an image of the Capitol Building, and then the top of the dome opened and this guy’s face was inside. It is the single funniest ad I have ever seen and I laughed for 10 minutes so hard I was like an inch away from passing out.
51. current stresses?
Passing my driving test next month, getting a job, figuring out if my math skills are okay enough to take the SAT or an equivalent test.
52. favorite font?
Baskerville or Georgia!
53. what is the current state of your hands?
My fingernails are short bc I picked them while reading earlier, my cuticles suck bc I pick at those two, and my pinky is obliterated and scabbed because of when I accidentally sliced through the nail with a razor while shaving the other day. So, not great, but I’m living.
54. what did you learn from your first job?
That kids can be really annoying but also really cute and hilarious if you can get them to calm down. And also that baby fingernails are surprisingly sharp.
55. favorite fairy tale?
The OG Princess and the Frog where it’s implied the prince and “faithful Henry,’ his carriage driver, fall in love and ride off together at the end. JACOB AND WILHELM GRIMM SAID GAY RIGHTS.
56. favorite tradition?
Every December, my mom and I drive around after dark at night and I play Pokemon and we rate everyone’s Christmas decorations based on tackiness.
57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?
So isolated I was as a preteen/early teenager, my self harm, and the internalized anger over my abusive relationship and PTSD.
58. four talents you’re proud of having?
Writing, puzzle solving, singing, and calligraphy.
59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?
“Benvoli-no.” (I recently remembered I used to say that a lot and I need to bring it back)
60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?
Dark, fairy tale anime with a lot of secrets to uncover and some dark woods.
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
TV show - “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who
Movie - “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman
Book - “If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.” - The Dream Thieves, by Maggie Stiefvater
62. seven characters you relate to?
Dean Winchester - Supernatural
Sam Winchester - Supernatural
Jack Kline Winchester - Supernatural
Charlie Bradbury - Supernatural
Gansey - The Raven Cycle
Blue Sargent - The Raven Cycle
Hermione Granger - Harry Potter
63. five songs that would play in your club?
Final Song // MO
Call Home // Heathers
I Am Here // Pink
Babylon // 5 Seconds of Summer
Shake It Off // Taylor Swift
64. favorite website from your childhood?
WEBKINZ AND THE OLD AMERICAN GIRL WEBSITE
65. any permanent scars?
Yes, I have several that remain from self harm, scars all over my left knee from being a clumsy child, and most of all a major scar down the center of my chest from heart surgery when I was a baby.
66. favorite flower(s)?
Rose, lavender, lilac, and dahlia.
67. good luck charms?
Not really???
68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?
Olives, mushrooms, radishes, cottage cheese, and ranch dressing are all foul.
69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?
Martin Luther didn’t actually nail his 95 theses to the church door, he just kind of passed them around, which is a lot less dramatic tbh. Also light-up signs were first used in New York City in 1884.
70. left or right handed?
I’m left-handed!
71. least favorite pattern?
I think zebra stripes, leopard print, and houndstooth are super ugly.
72. worst subject?
Math for sure. Even science would be easier if it didn’t involve so much math.
73. favorite weird flavor combo?
Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty!!!
74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?
I think a 7, usually. My pain tolerance is pretty high because of a) years of self harm, and b) due to my PTSD my muscles are constantly tense and in pain anyway.
75. when did you lose your first tooth?
I was 4, and it had been loose but it fell out when I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball.
76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?
Fries or roasted potatoes that are charred and crunchy on the bottom. Chips are a close third.
77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?
Idk, my grandma’s the one with the green thumb mania lmao. But She keeps a lot of violets and arrowhead plants in the windowsills!
78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?
NEITHER I HATE BOTH COFFEE AND SUSHI IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES.
79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?
Never had a school ID, but my temporary license photo is actually pretty good right now!
80. earth tones or jewel tones?
I really like earth tones for myself.
81. fireflies or lightning bugs?
THEY ARE THE SAME MF THING. Also I call them both, it just depends on what comes out of my mouth haha.
82. pc or console?
PC, I guess, though I don’t really game. I just watch my stepdad game.
83. writing or drawing?
WRITING. I cannot draw to save my life.
84. podcasts or talk radio?
Podcasts, talk radio is so annoying.
84. barbie or polly pocket?
Barbie, although I loved both.
85. fairy tales or mythology?
Mythology I guess??? Although again, I love both.
86. cookies or cupcakes?
COOKIESSSSS
87. your greatest fear?
Rejection, losing people I love, people secretly hating me. Also drowning, spiders, clowns, and guns.
88. your greatest wish?
To be a semi-successful author and work in a library/museum.
89. who would you put before everyone else?
My mom and my gf.
90. luckiest mistake?
Almost dropping a knife blade first on my foot but it landed between my toes.
91. boxes or bags?
um boxes I guess? I’m really good at fitting things in tetris style.
92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?
FAIRY LIGHTS AND DIM YELLOW LAMPS.
93. nicknames?
Ell, Alexander, Ellie, Little Lion, and Nerd.
94. favorite season?
FALL FALL FALL FALL
95. favorite app on your phone?
Tumblr or Spotify. Two apps I couldn’t live without.
96. desktop background?
Tumblr media
97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?
About a half dozen. Mine, my mom’s, my stepdad’s, my grandparents’ home number, my grandpa’s, and my grandma’s.
98. favorite historical era?
Both the American Revolutionary period and the Victorian Era (esp in Britain)
THANK YOU LOVE THIS WAS SUPER FUN
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Text
Vassilyev
The sequel to Machiavelli that no one asked for xD Enjoy! Also found on my ao3 here. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.
--
“Mmm I love your body,” Rhys purred as he laid half-atop Jack's chest in bed. The alpha made an amused noise as Rhys rubbed his cheeks into Jack’s skin, nuzzling at chest hair and keeping himself pressed tight against the older man. “So perfect, Jack.”
“Of course it is, it's me we're talking about here,” the alpha said with sleepy amusement, voice rumbling under Rhys’ warm hands.
The omega ran palms over and over Jack's torso, loving the slight belly the older man had, the lack of definition on what must have once been rock hard abs in his youth. His chest hair was greying in patches to match the streak in the alpha's hair, the CEO’s age showing in his body, and it just did it for the omega.
Rhys was in love with Jack's body. The alpha might have bitched about how quickly his pretzels seemed to go to his gut, and how he used to be able to eat whatever he wanted with no damn problem when he was Rhys’ age, but Rhys was in pure heaven. He wouldn't trade in the Jack now for a younger version even if given the chance. The older man might not realize it, but he was basically Rhys’ walking fetish.
Jack lightly startled in surprise as he felt teeth on his right ilium, looking down with a smirk in time to see Rhys’ pleased smile before he pressed lips against the older man's skin. The omega purred as Jack carded a hand through messy hair with fond amusement at the younger man’s idea of seduction.
“Again? You're a frisky thing sweetheart.”
“Well what do you expect me to do with you laying here all gorgeous, warm, and alpha, hmm?”
Jack snorted but offered him a smirk as the younger man continued to rub against him. “Feeling okay, sugar?”
“Mmhmm.”
Jack cocked a brow expectantly. “Your heat?”
“Heh, not yet. Not for some time more.” A wicked smile took the younger man's face. “Not that that means I don't plan to have you again, Jack.”
“You're going to kill me, kiddo.”
“I'm keeping you young, old man,” the omega teased, earning a laugh.
Jack stretched beneath him before pulling the younger man back up over his body to flutter kisses about his face. “Probably both, kitten.”
--
The first time Rhys told Jack he was pregnant, the alpha had had to take a seat lest his legs give out on him from sheer shock.
The omega couldn't have been more pleased, ecstatic even as he searched out approval from the alpha at this turn of events. Jack's shell-shocked silence turned into Rhys begging to keep it, touching the older man in urgent supplication before the alpha pulled him into his lap to cuddle and scent him.
Of course they'd keep it. It was Rhys’ after all. Of course he wanted it.
The omega liked to joke throughout the pregnancy about how Jack had told him earlier that year that he'd have a ton of pretty pups by some lucky bastard; so what did that make Jack now, hm?
Honestly, he was scared but unwilling to admit it, and a whole lot more pleased than he'd ever considered possible.
Dads were old guys. Only an old guy could be a dad. Which meant he was officially an old guy now. One foot in the grave. Serious dad type stuff ahead. Man with a family that came before himself.
If anything could have ever mellowed out Handsome Jack, this was the last thing anyone had seen coming. Bonded, mated, baby on the way. Jack threw himself fully into the role of family man, and Rhys had enjoyed a smooth, completely spoiled pregnancy by an almost over-attentive mate.
Jack was head over heels for their daughter, crazy for the tiny thing with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Rhys had loved being pregnant, loved the excessive attention and care the alpha gave him, loved knowing he carried Jack’s kid on him, and absolutely loved actually holding their baby with all his might. Jack had to admit that pregnancy really suited the omega.
It shouldn't have come as any surprise then when Rhys told Jack he was pregnant again, before their little Angel had even turned one. Jack didn't need to sit down this time, but he did grip the kitchen counter with nearly enough strength to break it, asking the omega to repeat himself.
Rhys’ pills had failed again. Or Jack's seed was just that strong. Or Rhys was just that fertile, the omega joked. But they had a second kid on the way.
It probably was the latter all considered, as the omega was reaching his prime breeding years, and he kept himself well acquainted with the older man’s cock. Jack was still in his prime, more than capable of putting a few pups inside the omega. They enjoyed a very healthy sex life even after the first baby.
Rhys was absolutely beside himself with excitement, stroking over his belly and telling the older man that he was going to have a proper succession to Hyperion’s throne. Jack had laughed, saying he was way too damn old to already be having another kid, and he'd kissed the daylights out of Rhys until Angel’s crying tore the omega away to give her a bottle and a cuddle.
The birth of a second daughter made Rhys relieved that Angel would have someone to play dress up and shoot targets with when she was older. Worry over integrating such high profile kids with the pups of other omegas had vanished, and Rhys knew Angel would never feel lonely.
It gave the alpha cause to think. Rhys was damn pretty, and Jack knew he was already old, not looking forward to the prospect of chasing off upstart pups sniffing around his pretty girls. He hoped they'd end up strong alphas; chase away idiots themselves until he taught them proper shooting techniques. But Jack told Rhys that he wasn't going to leave things up to chance, and so help him he'd stick a son in the omega to keep an eye on his older sisters and bite anyone that got too close. Rhys jumped on the proclamation, and subsequently Jack, to let the alpha knock him up again.
The sex had been good, like really good. Knowing that Jack was actively trying to impregnate him this time somehow just made it levels better to Rhys, and the omega was more thrilled than ever that they'd have another baby. It satisfied a deep urge in the omega to have a lovely big family, and here he was halfway to that goal-- not that he'd share his opinions on what done was or not with the big alpha plowing him every night. Rhys was living in an absolute dream.
They shouldn't have been so shocked that Rhys birthed a son nearly a year later. Jack laughed and claimed he did exactly what he'd set out to do because he was so damn perfect, and Rhys just rolled his eyes and thrilled with the new addition to the family.
Angel and Emma didn't fully understand what a brother was, though the two and a half year old pressed kisses to baby Deacon’s head and asked to take him home while Emma just sucked on a pacifier and clung to Jack with wide, curious eyes.
They had their hands full, but Jack was richer than god so it wasn't difficult to manage three babies. That's what money was for, and failing that, bribing Rhys’ friends with sweet talk and home cooked meals to lend a hand for the occasional date night.
Jack was happier than he'd thought possible, and Rhys ever-so-smugly liked to remind him-- and often- that they wouldn't even have babies if Rhys hadn't been so persistent over Jack’s old, old-- wow Jack you are seriously old did you know that?- old, geriatric old alpha ass. Which was also old.
Rhys had been spanked and fucked very well after that flattering epithet, the omega purring and cuddling the alpha with unapologetic, satisfied snickers afterwards. He took extra pleasure in telling Jack that he could give Deacon his evening bottle because Rhys couldn’t stand up with his sore ass. Jack placed a kiss to the stinging red flesh and promised he’d give the omega a back rub when he returned. Rhys was asleep by the time that happened, but he didn’t forget the next morning, and demanded Jack make good on his promise.
Life, as far as the alpha was concerned, was pretty damn good.
--
Jack smiled to himself as he watched Rhys. The omega had their two year-old son on his hip above his yet-again slightly-swollen belly. Angel and Emma played on the floor at Jack's feet while the omega told them to pack their toys up and get ready.
It made the alpha feel warm and fuzzy-- happy; loving- over his mate and children. He'd never seen himself as a family man, but here he was with three kids and a fourth on the way, his pretty pretty bond mate’s face in a frown as the omega told Angel to give Emma back her loaderbot toy, and the alpha had nothing but pleased, happy chuckles over his lot in life.
Rhys raised a brow at the older man and gave him an impatient expression, as if to ask what the hell the older man was staring at. Jack just gave him a one-sided smirk in response.
“You know, you can feel free to grab the girls’ bag so we can get them to Vaughn's on time,” Rhys huffed passive aggressively, breaking his judgmental look to tell Emma to put her shoes back on.
The alpha snorted with a laugh and hopped up. He pressed a kiss to the omega’s face and nuzzled him while placing an affectionate palm on his belly. Rhys sighed and rolled his eyes, though he luxuriated in his mate’s touch.
“You're so gorgeous, sweetheart. You know that?”
“You're not getting out of this, Jack.” Rhys moved Deacon to his other hip, giving Jack a suspicious glare that lacked any heat. “You promised me a nice night out and that you'd drop the kids off while I showered. Don’t even think of slinking off.”
“Me try and miss date night? Never in a million years, babe.” He pressed an overly sloppy kiss to the younger man’s face and scooped up both girls under each arm. Shrieks of “Daddy my shoe!” and pleased squeals met their ears as Jack launched them to the couch. He put Emma’s shoes back on at Rhys’ insistence, and hyped the girls up for a sleepover at Uncle Vaughn’s.
Rhys made a mental note to text the beta that their dad had them extra jazzed to see him. He sure hoped Vaughn had coffee in the pot at his apartment.
--
Laying together in the quiet of their bedroom, Rhys purred as he circled one of Jack's nipples with a finger, the alpha's knot snug in his body as they lay satisfied in the sheets at an odd angle.
“So I was thinking…” Rhys started, face happy and content from good food and sex both. “Once Angel starts school, we're going to have a lot of free time, handsome.”
“And?”
“And after this one is born, Deacon will be going into preschool with Emma.”
Jack raised a suspicious brow, stopping Rhys’ finger and bringing the hand up to his mouth to kiss with a pleased growl. “Get to the point, sugar.”
Rhys snickered and nuzzled closer to the alpha, scenting up his neck with eyes closed in blissful pleasure. “I want another baby.”
The alpha pressed back into the bed as if to get away from Rhys, but the omega just smirked and pressed forward, stroking the CEO’s face with his reclaimed hand as he wiggled against the older man. Jack groaned.
“You've got one in there now, sugarpie. Kind of crowded.”
“Mm yeah… but once she's out…”
“Let's wait until we cross that bridge okay? And how do you know it's gonna be a girl anyways sweet pea? Maybe D will get a little brother.”
“I just have a feeling,” the omega purred. He stroked Jack’s chest, trying to convince him with kisses and pets alike. “Didn't you want two boys?”
“Rhysie, I can't even remember what you look like not pregnant.” The omega gave a supremely pleased purr at that, resting his face on the older man's chest and making Jack snort at his determined look. He brushed a hand through Rhys’ hair and then rested it on his lower back. “You're nuts.”
“We're almost halfway to start a new company if you give me a few more pups,” he purred, and Jack laughed as he settled large palms on Rhys’ plump hips.
“So that's your plan all along sweetheart? Breeding a new branch?”
“Ooh you found me out.” Rhys nipped at Jack's jaw, smiling as the older man's hands squeezed at his hips. “Come on handsome, every omega wants enough kids to fill their own sports team. I might be the only one to actually get that wish.”
The alpha chuckled, hands trailing over Rhys’ back to drag up into his hair. “I thought we were done. With Deacon.”
The younger man snickered wickedly, as much an admission to the opposite as Jack would ever get. Rhys stroked the side of his slightly swollen belly with a pleased curve to his smile.
“Every omega needs that perfect set of kids, Jack.”
“And just what kind of set we talkin’ here, Rhysie?”
“By my count? Baker’s dozen.”
The older man laughed long and hard, only because he knew the omega was teasing him with such an outrageous number. Otherwise he might've seriously considered sterilizing himself to keep the younger man from milking him dry. The way Rhys was always hungry for his cock was both a blessing and a curse-- one he relished in indulging.
“I know it's hard to believe here with how awesome I am, but I don't think I actually have it in me for that many, sugar.”
“I'll take them as they come.” Rhys grinned widely at the older man, poking him in the chest. “Get it?”
“Haha, real cute pumpkin. Leave the one-liners to me.” The CEO snatched up Rhys’ hand again to press another kiss to his palm. He gave a few nervous laughs as he contemplated his mate. “You don't really want that many kids, do you precious?”
The omega relaxed his chin against Jack’s chest, looking at the man with a thoughtful, pleased smile. “Not nearly that many, handsome, no. Thirteen is a bit much.” Jack chuckled at his pretty mate, groaning slightly as Rhys clenched his body around the alpha’s knot, giving a purr of contentment. “Maybe six or seven. I think I’d be done after that.”
Jack waited for Rhys to laugh or snicker, make some sort of joke, but it never came. The older man groaned, head back in the pillow and eyes closed. “You're not serious.” He was met with happy sounds accompanied by Rhys’ fingers playing in his chest hair again. “Baby, Jesus, wait until they're all in school maybe yeah? We’ll have crappy plays and sports and recitals or whatever other crap to keep us occupied.”
“And if it doesn't?”
Jack looked the younger man in the face to see Rhys watching him with bated breath, waiting for a serious answer. The alpha sighed out with resignation, patting the omega’s hand. “Then we'll just have to keep you barefoot and pregnant for the foreseeable future.” Rhys made a happy sound between a gasp and a growl, body clenching around the older man as Jack held him tight. “Just don't expect me to have energy to spare when you’re sucking my life essence dry, Rhysie.”
Rhys just snickered but cuddled closer to the alpha with happiness singing through the bond to the older man, accompanied by very vocal purrs. He held close to Jack, inhaling his alpha scent with a pleased smile on his face. “...you're not that old, Jack.”
The man in question laughed. “Yes I am.” He kissed Rhys’ forehead. “So we better have ‘em quick, sweetheart. I’m not getting any younger.” He moved to grab handfuls of Rhys’ ass while the omega just laughed and told Jack he was throwing his pills away for good after this kid was born.
Jack thanked his lucky stars that he was a rich as hell CEO with more resources than anyone could ever need, because if his pretty mate got his way, Rhys would indeed populate a whole space station with just their kids alone, lavishing in being the mother to what would essentially amount to an army.
Jack figured four was a good starting point.
...He was definitely getting a vasectomy if they reached seven, though.
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eversall · 7 years
Note
Hi! Are you still taking Saphael prompts?? If you are, here's mine: "your friend wrote your phone number in a public restroom as a prank and my drunk bff has called you with my phone, i'm so sorry, also your friend is a dick" Ft Simon as the poor guy whose phone number Jace has written in the public restroom and Magnus as Raphael's drunk bff, whose phone he used to call Simon. Hope you like it, but it's ok if you don't ^^ Love your fanfics!
fml this is a really cute prompt and it started out all light and funny and then devolved into serious stuff at the end I AM SORRY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT (also if you were to come off anon and be my friend i would love you forever and also be able to link you on ao3 as the prompter for this fic
if i ever had your number i think i would use it // read on ao3
“Er.” Simon says, but that seems to be enough. “Simon?” Raphael asks. “The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz hands even though he knows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium bathroom?”.It starts because Jace and Simon get drunk together one night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five percent of their impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to implement all of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to make Alec grind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.
It starts because Jace is a dick.
Well. To be fair, it starts because Jace and Simon get drunk togetherone night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five percent oftheir impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to implementall of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to make Alecgrind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.
“Which is rude.” Jace informshim as he gets a tattoo across the side of his stomach. Simon makes anagreeable noise, too engrossed in the delicate line of triangles he’s justgotten tattooed across his shoulders. “How are your triangles doing?”
“I think they’re ready to experience the world!” Simon shouts, gettingto his feet. The tattoo artist doesn’t even look at him as she puts a hand onhis shoulder and shoves him back into his seat. He goes willingly, trying tofigure out what he should name the triangles. Luke, Leia, and Anakin? Frodo,Bilbo, and Sam? So many options!
Anyway, Simon figures that if anyone’s to blame, it’s Clary, because ifClary had been there Jace wouldn’t have gotten the fantastic idea to carve Simon’s number into the tiny piece of wallnext to the mirror in a bathroom at a gay club. Actually, his idea is just tocarve something, and when he asksSimon for any number between one and one hundred, Simon rattles off the digitsto his cell because that’s the only thing he can remember. Jace doesn’t seem toquestion the fact that the number is definitely not between one and onehundred, but instead dutifully transcribes it into the wall. And that’s thestory of how Simon’s phone number ends up in a hidden corner of a clubrestroom.
Well. That’s not the entirestory.
.
Simon’s working late when he gets the call. He’s hunched over a list ofpotential mergers, chewing on the end of his pen as he types in risk analysisand bemoans the fact that his boss is a hardass, and also Simon is hard for his boss’ ass, and isn’t that embarrassing? But he wouldn’t be here if itweren’t for the fact that Raphael asked him to finish these, and Simon sort ofhates the guy but sort of loves him too. It’s – complicated.
Lily, who’s the other data analyst and who he shares an office with,likes to gleefully tell him that it’s not thatcomplicated, and they’ve all got bets going on when Raphael and Simon ‘crackfrom the tension and start banging’, and that she thinks he’s good for Raphael.That’s the hardest part to hear. Simon can take all the innuendoes and thegood-natured teasing, but when people genuinely tell him to go for it he sortof shuts down. Because – nope, there’s no way that Raphael Santiago, a powerhouse of a business mogul, would ever beinterested in Simon Lewis.
He’s lost in his self-deprecating thoughts when he gets a call, and hefrowns as he checks the screen. Speak of the devil – why is Raphael calling himthis late at night? He cautiously takes the call and brings it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“HELLOOOO, I’M LOOKING FOR A GOOD TIME!” A voice shouts down the line-a voice that is definitely not hisboss’. Simon yelps, pulling the phone away from his ear and staring down at it,bewildered, before he brings it back up.
“I’m…sorry?” he hedges. There’s sounds of a scuffle on the other end, amuffled thump, and then –
“A good time!” the voice continues, the words slurred. “That’s why yournumber’s here, right? For a good time?Well, have I got a deal – no, a steal– no, stop it Ra – let go of me, I’mgonna get you laid – anyway my friend Raphael is sorely in need of a good time because he has a stick up his ass so – “
Simon’s having conniptions atthis point. His mouth is hanging open and he’s staring blankly at the screen,trying to figure out how this is his life. The other man’s voice cuts off, andthen starts up again, sounding out of breath like he’s running.
“So listen carefully I need you to do whatever it is you do becauseRaphael keeps mooning over this new employee he has and wow he needs to ask that dude out already so if you could blow himor something and restore his confidence- “
“BANE!” a clearer voice shouts, and oh, that voice Simon recognizes. He winces as the phone makes a staticnoise, more alarming sounds coming from it, before Raphael speaks.
“Hi,” he says, his voice low and raspy and oh God, Simon wants to die rather than have this conversation. “I’m sosorry about my friend, he’s very, very drunk. He found your number in thebathroom at Pandemonium, I don’t know if – “
“My number?” Simon splutters,dropping his pen. “What?”
“Yes. I presume you didn’t know anything about this.” Raphaelcontinues. “I’m so sorry to disturb you – “
“Fucking Jace.” Simon mutters, half to himself, as memories of theirnight out rushes to the forefront of his mind. “Of course he’d do somethingidiotic like that.”
“Jace – Jace Wayland?” Raphael asks, and Simon freezes. Shit, how dumbis he that he forgot his boss doesn’t know he’s talking to Simon? “Do I…knowyou?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Simon closes his eyesand prays dear God please open up a holein the ground straight to the nearest volcano and dump me in there.
“Er.” Simon says, but that seems to be enough.
“Simon?” Raphael asks.
“The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz hands even though heknows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”
“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium bathroom?”
“So, funny story,” Simon runs a hand through his hair, “You know Jace,one of the legal reps for the Clave – well, he and I went out one night and…hemight have put my number there? We were pretty…out of it, to be fair.”
“Right.” Raphael says, and there’s a strange note in his voice. “Youknow that’s a gay club.”
“Yeah?” Simon frowns. “I know. Who was your friend on the line?”
“Oh, Magnus.” There’s the unmistakable sound of a whoop in thebackground, presumably the Magnus Raphael is talking about. “He ownsPandemonium. He just, ah, is going through something.”
“Poor guy.” Simon commiserates, before something occurs to him withgrowing dread. “Wait, Raphael, Magnus said something about – you having a thing for someone at work.”
“That’s none of your concern.” Raphael says, his voice firm andno-nonsense. Fortunately, Simon’s pretty immune to that voice, because it’salways coupled with that hint of a smile tugging at Raphael’s lips as he looksat Simon, so.
“Oh but it is.” Simonwheedles, his heart caught somewhere between elation and dread. If he finds outtonight that Raphael actually has the hots for someone else, it’s going tosuck. There’s no way around it. But still – isn’t it better to know then to be left in limbo? “Come on,Raphael, I’m bored and I need something entertaining – “
“You’re bored? Go watch one of your ridiculous shows.” Raphaelresponds. “Also, I don’t think my…feelings…are entertaining.”
“There’s no TV in the office, I can’t watch anything. And I didn’t meanto imply anything less about your feelings.” Simon hastens to say. “But, youknow. It’s you! Who has the mighty Raphael Santiago fallen for?”
“The office?” Raphael asks, ignoring the rest of Simon’s sentence.“You’re still at work?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Simon says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Justfinishing up the risk analysis.”
“It’s almost eleven. Go home, Simon.” Raphael says, his voice tired.“I’m sure someone is waiting up for you.”
“Nope.” Simon huffs out a laugh, idly tracing the keys on his keyboard.“I, uh – no one’s waiting up for me.”
“No?” Raphael asks. His voice is quiet now, and Simon almost misses thenext words. “That’s a shame.”
“Right.” Simons says, his voice thick. There’s a sudden lump in histhroat that he can’t swallow around, something nameless and infinitelyterrifying, full of possibilities, settling around him at Raphael’s words. “Um.You?”
“What?”
“Is anyone waiting up for you?”
“No.” Raphael laughs bitterly. “No, I – don’t have what it takes to bein a relationship.”
“Don’t have what it – are you drunk?”
“No.” Raphael is silent for a while before he speaks again. “Just verytired.”
“Then go home and sleep.” Simon rubs a hand over his face, theadrenaline draining out of him as he considers that it really was ridiculous tohope, just a little, that Raphael thought of Simon the same way Simon thoughtof him. “I’ll finish up here and leave soon too.”
“Alright.” Raphael says on the other end, and then he hangs up. Simonstares at his phone for a few minutes before he fires off a text to Jacetelling him exactly where he can shove himself and his drunk ideas. The tattooswere nice, but the late-night phone call from his boss breaking his heart was decidedly not nice.
He shuffles together his reports and stacks them up, regarding themwarily. It’s time for him to go home and sleep off his melancholy mood. Heshuts down his computer and is just grabbing his keys when he hears footsteps.
“Hello?” He calls, cautiously peering out of his office. In the dimlight, he sees someone familiar walking down the hallway. “Raphael? What thehell are you doing here?”
Raphael comes to a stop in front of him, his eyes intense as he looksat Simon. He’s wearing jeans and a leather jacket, and to be honest Simon didnot know Raphael owned anything other than suits. He looks really fucking good, as always, and his usuallyperfectly styled hair is mussed lightly, making him look like he just had sex.Simon swallows.
“You should know what happened tonight.” Raphael says seriously, andSimon frowns.
“I know what happened.” Hereasons. “It’s fine, honestly, Raphael, you couldn’t have known it was mynumber that your friend was calling.”
“He called the number because he was drunk, yeah, but also because hegenuinely wanted me to get my mind off of my feelings.”
“Right.” Simon attempts to smile, but judging by the look on Raphael’sface it came out more like a grimace. “Is everything okay?” Raphael is silentfor a long time, and then he swallows audibly.
“You.” He says to Simon. “They’re feelings for you.”
Simon is floored for a second, unable to do anything but gape atRaphael. The blanket of terror and elation from before is back, crashing intohim. He feels like a string pulled taut, hovering on the edge of a precipice.He never could have imagined that it would be Raphael instigating this.
“Really?” Simon manages to croak out. Raphael nods, and Simon breaksout into a grin. “Oh, thank Godbecause I feel the same way. About you.”
Raphael flinches at thatrevelation. Simon frowns then, taking in the tight lines across Raphael’s faceand the way he’s clenching his fists. “Raphael? What’s wrong?”
“You should know.” He gets out, his voice tight. “When Magnus calledand said those things about…having a good time, and all that – I don’t do that.Magnus wouldn’t even have called and said those things if he weren’t drunkhimself. It was a joke.”
“I figured as much.” Simon says slowly. “But you’re trying to saysomething else here?”
“Yeah, I’m.” Raphael exhales, and crosses his arms defensively. “I’masexual. I’m never going to want sex.”
Oh.
“I feel very strongly about you, Simon.” Raphael continues, his voiceveering into anguished territory, leaving Simon dazed with the amount ofemotion that’s behind his words. “I didn’t think I would ever feel anything aboutanyone, and I was okay with that. Butyou’re – different. And you deserve to be happy. This isn’t how I imaginedtelling you, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He says, shrugging his shouldersand giving Simon a self-deprecating smile. It’s heartbreaking.
“You make me happy.” Simonblurts out, desperate to alleviate the sadness that Raphael is carrying. “Ialways – your sense of humor is really aggressive and it took me a long time toparse out that when you were insulting me or not, but – my feelings for youaren’t based in sex.” He says.
Raphael makes a startled noise and steps back, searching Simon’s facefor something. Simon swallows and stands his ground.
“You – really?” Raphael asks.
“I’m not gonna lie and say that I immediately know what to do aboutit.” Simon says firmly. “We need to sit down and have a long talk about yourboundaries and my boundaries and how this is going to work out, but God – Ilike you. A lot. I want to work it out. I want to try, and I – I mean, do you want that?”
“More than you could know.” Raphael says slowly. Simon reaches out atentative hand.
“Can I…?” he asks, his voice unsteady. Raphael makes a noise and pullsSimon forward, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. Simon slides his arms aroundRaphael’s back, burying his face in Raphael’s hair and sighing contentedly.
“You use too much product in your hair.” Simon mutters, nosing over thestiff strands.
“This is a romantic moment.” Raphael fires back, tightening his grip onSimon’s waist. His voice is muffled as he presses his face into Simon’s neck.“You’re ruining it.”
“I’m making it better.” Simon counters, laughing. Raphael pulls backand looks at him, his eyes warm and trusting as he leans in to brush his nosealong Simon’s cheek.
“You make everything better.” He whispers hoarsely, his voice soft andawestruck.
“So do you.” Simon whispers back, his voice equally as awestruck.
It’s almost midnight, and they’re in a drab high-rise office buildingin the middle of New York. Raphael smells like alcohol and sharp perfume, likethe club he’s made his way from, and Simon’s phone number is still etched intothe corner of a wall somewhere in a public restroom, something he really shouldtake care of. He and Raphael still need to figure out how a boss-employeerelationship is going to work, and they’re standing next to rows and rows ofcubicles. It’s not exactly a fairy-tale romance. It’s the furthest thing fromthat – it’s just them swaying slightly, wrapped up in each other, under theweak fluorescent lights of the office.
But it’s more perfect than anything Simon could have ever imagined,because Raphael is here, in his arms,and that’s enough of a fairy-tale for him.
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aquarianlights · 6 years
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Listen to Life and Death from the LOST soundtrack. I hear it in my mind every time I make a big decision, every time I look back on the past with nostalgia, and every time my illness flares up and I'm bedbound. I think it's a fit for you.
Oh absolutely not. I don’t listen to sad music EVER. Actually, I just don’t really listen to music in general because it spikes my emotions. Even happy music does. I hate that feeling. So I tend to stay away from music in general…ESPECIALLY orchestral coz it makes me angry that I didn’t stick with my clarinet major and go on to do musical things. And it makes me miss hs band. And it makes me miss playing the Star Trek Into Darkness theme on stage with me being first chair. It makes me miss all the band moments I’ve had in the pit at theatre performances and all-district and all-state bands..and all the awards I’ve won and scholarships because of it… It makes me miss the feeling of getting first chair my freshman year of college when I wasn’t even a music major yet and all the upperclassmen were glaring at me when I walked in. It makes me miss jazz band, even though I don’t have a jazz sound and can’t do jazz at all.
And then…LOST….Don’t get me started on how LOST makes me feel. I know exactly which track you’re talking about, too. Isn’t it that one orchestral piece that is all like… peaceful and nostalgic and okay until like…the very end when it hits a bunch of dissonant chords and crescendos? Ugh. LOST in general… I don’t think I’ve EVER cried as hard over ANY series as I did with LOST. Never in my life….. I can’t… I just can’t.
Music that makes me feel better and get motivated is like…. Hmm… Indie music, I guess? Indie-Pop? Phoenix, The Killers, Two Door Cinema Club, Borns, The Postal Service, Foster The People…. I mean, to get a feel, Phoenix is my favourite band and has been for most of my life and their music makes me feel better, a lot of the time. The genre that REALLY makes me feel better is Indie Dance but it’s a fairly new genre that is only just now kicking off… So there’s not a lot there. Summer was Fun is my fave Indie Dance group. But the song “Some Kind Of Magic” by LVTHER is my favourite Indie Dance song and there are no bad or nostalgic or happy memories attached to it (yet) so NOTHING ruins it for me and it makes me feel like there is just glitter pouring out of my veins and like I can see colours and like I can dance and sing at the top of my lungs and be genuinely happy no matter WHAT is happening. THAT is the kinda music that can make me feel okay.
Straight “Indie” is really the only thing I can listen to without getting that horrible surge of emotions or nostalgia for the good or bad or just in general. Any sort of powerfully-emotion-evoking music makes me NOPE the fuck outta there. ESPECIALLY orchestral stuff. I don’t think there’s anything orchestral I can listen to and not wanna just…die. Lol. Even happy memories get destroyed by that surge of intense emotion. I hate it. I hate listening to music.
Unless I’m the one playing/producing the music…I’m really not okay listening to it. Which is why everyone who knows me well knows that they can’t send me songs to tell me how they feel about me. Coz it legitimately pisses me off and makes me feel awful. But they can send me lyrics. Lyrics I’m okay with, but I’d much rather someone use their own words…. Like… I just… When a partner sends me song lyrics or songs, I’m just like “Why can’t you say that yourself and like…with words that come from YOUR heart and not the words of someone else? Like…Holy wow, do you not care about me even to make that much tiny bit of effort?” I know that’s not how it’s intended, but I take things a lot of ways the opposite of what they are intended… Probably coz I’m BPD.
Tangent. Sorry. Anyways…
I appreciate this offer, though. The fact you thought of me and thought to shoot me a message with it made me smile. I really appreciate this and I deff needed some inspiration to get up and get dressed today. Ahhh… Thank you. Seriously. Thank you. I’m glad it helps you… I’m really, really glad. Music does the opposite for me if I’m listening to it and not playing/producing it myself. It makes me feel miserable…even music that makes me feel “good” instantly makes me feel miserable because I just got a huge surge of emotions and nostalgia. Sigh. I wish I could listen to music and have music therapy like most people do, but… Not only does it hurt, but I analyze it too much. The music theory final and music theory AP exam just…killed every chance I had at listening to any kind of music without analyzing every measure, every chord… I can’t listen to music without producing a score in my head and fingering the notes on an imaginary clarinet or an imaginary keyboard. I can’t do it. ESPECIALLY orchestral. It kills it. :/ And LOST…OMG LOST……. [sobs eternally] I want to rewatch it so badly. No show has ever lived up to my expectations like that show did. The plane crash arc in Grey’s Anatomy kinda lived up to it… The plane crash arc gave me the same bitter feels and sobbing as LOST did. Like.. those 2 or 3 episodes took me about a month to finish because of how intense the feels were. Fuck, dude. Lost killed me. I fucking love that show……Lol.
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