Tumgik
#Ray's personal journal
cfs-yogi · 21 days
Text
I've been doing a qi gong routine, mostly in my head with bits of physical movements as I am able, not every day but reasonably often.
Anyways. Today's was nice in that I got a view of fluffy clouds. I also found it hard to stay focused because I had multiple insights as I went.
The second was about boredom, that boredom indicates a need, like thirst or the feeling of needing to use the bathroom, and the need that boredom signals is a need for challenge, to do something that is hard for you or that you could improve at. (I am bouncing off that post about the difference between distracting yourself from boredom, where the boredom comes back full force ones the distraction is removed, and sating the boredom, where the boredom stays away for a bit when you're done.) And I got this really intense flash of anger, because no one told me, I am learning so many things as an adult -- I'm over 40 ffs -- that no one ever told me and it feels like someone should have told me. Boredom means you need enrichment, something equivalent to a toy to chase for cats or frozen pumpkins or a tire swing for zoo animals. It's not something to be driven away with a wide enough range of distractions, it's not a sign it's time to fall as deeply into a video game as possible, it means you are missing a specific kind of "interesting" or "hard" that you need. It is a psychological hunger.
(Another thing I wish I had been told is any useful advice at all about how to get yourself to do things that you don't want to do. Basically all I got as a kid was "well you have to do it whether you like it or not," an attitude that has not served me particularly well in life. Compared to things like "if it's scary, you can get better at facing scary things by facing it" or "sometimes unpleasant things feel better if you think about how it benefits you or makes you a better person to do the thing". Granted I did pick up on "sometimes you can pair a thing you like with the thing you don't like", aka the spoon full of sugar approach.)
The earlier one had to do with happiness. I'd been fairly spiritually inclined as a teen and young adult (well, I still am) and definitely picked up on the idea that happiness doesn't come from having stuff or looking attractive or being popular. But none of that was really a challenge for me anyways, and what I don't think I got explicitly told is that happiness does not come from what you do either. There aren't intrinsically fun things you can do and intrinsically unpleasant things. Anything can feel good with the right mental framing, or at least can make you feel good about yourself for having done it anyways.
I don't know, maybe that seems obvious. But it's breaking my brain right now. I got too much work put on me in high school, and I got overly attached to having time free to do literally anything I felt like in the moment as a result, even though I've known for a long time that having long stretches of just doing whatever I feel like moment to moment does not reliably make me feel good and actually tends to make me feel worse than having work or school, unless it's for a limited period of time during a vacation or holiday.
Which makes sense if there's something about intentional effort that's sort of like, I don't know, protein? An emotional macronutrient, something you need a lot of, that should exist in balance with the macronutrient you get from leisure time. (Which probably has fuckall to do with paid work or doing what you're "supposed to" be doing. And does not necessarily have to be high spoons, like I said I got this insight doing mental qi gong, I wasn't moving and wasn't even concentrating especially hard.)
7 notes · View notes
Text
Journaling prompts 2/3/2023
Who is someone that inspires you?
I remember being thirteen years old, hurtling towards fourteen, and feeling like the weirdest, most uncomfortable person to walk this earth. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin every time I had to talk to someone else and walking down the street felt like an entire mission built to attack my nervous system.
Of course, realistically, no one cared I was walking anywhere, no one actually noticed anything about me apart from the fact I was exuding Bella from Twilight levels of awkwardness before Bella from Twilight was even a thing. In hindsight and old age, I can recognize now I was simply making things worse for myself. In the nicest way possible, nobody cares what you are doing, which I came to realize, is a truly wonderful thing.
But thirteen-year-old me was obviously the only person who felt the way I did and nobody could ever understand me for I, in the words of Avril Lavigne, was complicated.
In my defense I hadn't had your regular schooling, and I'd not had regular access to friendships growing up either, so suddenly flinging myself into the outside world was petrifying and I hadn't learned the stereotypical social skills most kids my age had gotten over by that time. I was lonely, angry about it, and felt like I was too weird for anyone to entertain being friends with. I didn't know what was cool and what wasn't and I had honestly, no idea what was going on, like ever.
I don't really remember how it got there, but one day I was going through my stuff in my bedroom; I listened to music constantly, and since having access to a proper bedroom, I had begun painting and drawing perpetually. That was my little safe space. I wasn't exceptionally good at either but when I was a little younger, I had taken a book from the library about trees and I began to draw them; it bothered me it looked so 2D and bland, so I obsessively drew trees until I felt it was perfect. From there, I discovered how much I enjoyed drawing and how much silence it created for my brain. So there I was rummaging through the stuff stashed away under my bed, when I came across a plain silver CD that just said "SKYLINES AND TURNSTILES" in marker pen. I didn't understand where it came from, no one else was ever in my bedroom and I hadn't so much stuff that I would have simply forgotten about having it. So I stuffed it into my CD player and pressed play, anxiously waiting to hear whatever it contained....much to my dismay, I hated it. "What is this absolute noise!?" I thought, shoving it back into the clear plastic pocket it was previously stored in and returning it to deep dark depths underneath a teenage girl's bed.
A couple of months went by, uneventfully...I think the biggest thing was I joined a drama group around that time, a drama group whose female director rather insensitively commented on how "Heroine chic" thin I was and how "You should audition for the drug addict in our next production, you have the look for it.". I made friends with two girls and I was so incredibly happy because I thought I was establishing some real friendships until a couple of weeks later when these girls, the same age as me, started discussing how many boys they had given blowjobs and turned to me for my number, as though at 13/14 this was a regular, normal thing to be chatting about. The week of auditions I came down with a vile cold that completely took away my voice and I thought it was my body's way of telling me to get out of there, so I did.
By this point, my rage was building...I was angry I couldn't relate to people my own age, I felt simultaneously so much older yet so much more naïve, I was angry at myself because I felt I had failed by dropping out of the drama group. I couldn't play Hockey or swim. I didn't know how to be anything other than quiet and draw.
For some reason, I listened to the mystery CD again and this time it was suddenly clearer like someone had translated this foreign language for me.
The first line I heard the vocalist sing was "You're not in this alone." and it felt like an invisible hand being placed on my shoulder. I don't believe in God as we're taught, I believe in something but I don't think it is as accessible as being something you can name. It is a feeling, this warmth, safety, and familiarity of finding something that feels like you have finally found a home.
I wanted to find out whose music this was, I went to the closest HMV store to me and asked a guy working there if he knew of any bands that released an album or EP titled Skylines and Turnstiles, he said no, the guy beside him though said yes, but it was a track, the album "is called Bullets or something, it's by My Chemical Romance." announced guy two "Who's My Chemical Romance?" asked guy one of guy two. "Some band" came his insightful response. Guy two showed me the aisle that held the ONE and only copy they had in store of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love by My Chemical Romance. I took it home and listened to it all the way through in one sitting. My life changed.
Shortly afterward came Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, this was my first time seeing the people that had created the album I'd been in love with for the past year or so; they had this band photo on the back of their album and headshots inside the album artwork, the styles of these photos reminded me of a horror movie poster vibe which went hand in hand with it's cover art that had a striking resemblance to the piece The Lovers II by Rene Magritte. The band are lined up with the central guy wearing all black with only a silver belt buckle of a Bat standing out and I remember thinking he was just so goddamn cool!!
I fell in love again with the storytelling of Three Cheers, the relationship between both albums, that this wasn't just music...this was the content of someone's mind being whispered, sang, and screamed out into the universe to see if anyone else felt the same way...it was someone's rage, loneliness, fears and discomfort being put on a painful amount of display in a plea to find they were not in this alone. In a generation of pumped-out pop machine hits, I'd heard nothing like it...nothing so raw, truthful, borderline painful to understand, yet so chaotically beautiful.
From there on, My Chemical Romance became a part of my little world; and although I love and admire each one of their talents, the person who inspires me the most has always been and always will be, Gerard Way.
For being brave enough to be vulnerable, for being selfless enough to push through, for being strong enough to overcome, for being determined enough to make sure kids like 13-year-old me knew they weren't in this alone, for still bringing comfort and inspiration to me twenty years later and mostly, for always having been unabashedly themselves throughout.
I still have no idea where the original CD with Skylines came from, it seemingly disappeared the way it arrived and in the unlikely event Gerard Way ever reads this, I just want to tell you one thing...
I still think you're so goddamn cool!!
Merci pour le venin ~ xo
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
h0ney-bee · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
It's dangerous to go alone take this
8 notes · View notes
vio-starclad · 5 months
Text
Top 5 Books 2023
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
0 notes
sebscore · 1 year
Note
gen z!reader is this sweet, bubbly, bright ray of sunshine who could honestly do no wrong, so I'd love to see a fic where in a driver's meeting gen z!reader loses their shit and calls out the FIA for their blatant sexism and misogyny in front of everyone and everyone is shocked cause they've never seen them gets this mad before.
NO ONE LIKES A MAD WOMAN
Tumblr media
pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (+ cameos from brundle, susie and buxton) 
warnings: sexism. fia is fia'ing. swearing. my own unaccurate ruling of penalties (it's for the sake of the story, just go along with it). susie mothering. it wasn't sure to me who conducted the driver's briefing during this time so I just picked a random name from the many that I came across. 
author's note: less comedic one this time, hope you enjoy it anyway! 
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Alright, thanks for clarifying, Checo.'' Derek concluded, glancing down at his journal to see what the next topic of discussion was. 
The director scratched his voice before addressing the drivers again. ''Uhm, we also wanted to remind everyone to be wary of what they say in the media regarding our organization,'' he stated, ''the FIA has the feeling that there have been deliberate attacks on them the last few weeks and they are willing to give out penalties if it happens again.'' 
The drivers looked at each other, confused by the sudden declaration that the FIA has been receiving ''attacks'' from the drivers. ''Can you give an example, because I think I speak for everyone when I say that I'm confused.'' George spoke up, the others nodding along to his question. 
Derek flipped through his papers, trying to find the notes his colleagues had given him regarding the ''offensive'' comments that had been made against them. 
''Oh, here,'' he put on his reading glasses, holding the piece of paper farther from his face, ''the comment they're referring to was one made by… Y/N at the previous race.'' 
The young woman's head sprung up at the mention of her name, clueless as to how she could have upset the FIA. ''What? W-what did I say?'' She managed to stutter out, all the eyes on her making her feel uneasy. 
''Uh, you were asked about the diversity in the sport and you said, and I quote: 'The FIA should do more regarding women in motorsport, there are still many things that need to be changed.' End quote.'' Derek answered her, putting his paper back in place. 
Y/N frowned at the man. ''I don't see what's wrong with that, to be honest.'' She told him, failing to see how the FIA would feel this was a ''deliberate attack''. 
The director sighed, already getting the suspicion the woman would not be happy with what he was about to say. ''Certain members of the board were offended by your words, because they saw it as you accusing them of being sexist.'' 
The silence in the room was deafening, every single person awaiting Y/N's reaction to Derek's clarification. The drivers took a glimpse at her, trying to read the indifferent expression on her face that didn't give much away about how she was feeling. 
''They think I'm accusing them of being sexist? What I meant was that they should take more actions in encouraging young girls to get into racing- I don't understand how that would correlate to me calling them sexist.'' Her usual cheerful tone was replaced by a monotone voice that almost scared some of her colleagues. 
Derek took a deep breath again. ''Well, they felt like you were insinuating it and they are offended by the alleged insinuation.'' 
''Just because they are offended doesn't mean they're right.'' She bit back, not missing a beat. 
''I'm simply delivering their message, Y/N,'' the director told her politely, wanting to remind her that he's not the person she should be upset with, ''anyway- if you go up there and apologize for your comment, they're considering leaving it as a warning for you and also the others.'' He finished the list of notes they had given him. 
The reaction from the room wasn't one he was expecting; absolute outrage. 
''She shouldn't apologize for that neither should she be penalized for it.'' Sebastian was the first one to speak up, directly looking Derek in the eye. 
The drivers agreed. ''Yeah, it's called freedom of speech.'' Max added, also not seeing why Y/N should go down there and say sorry to the members of the board. 
''Like I said earlier, I'm simply delivering their message.'' Derek repeated himself, feeling the tension and frustration growing in the small space. 
''But don't you see how ridiculous this is?'' Sebastian rebutted, hoping the man at the front could at least agree with them and say that it was indeed a weird request. 
Derek shook his head. ''I'm just the middle man, Seb,'' he sighed, turning his head towards the quiet female driver, ''Y/N, make it easier for yourself and go up there after the meeting, you don't want to receive a penalty for something like this.'' 
''I'm not apologizing.'' Her voice comes out strong, not in an aggressive way, but in a manner that lets everyone know she's not backing down. ''Give me as many penalties as you want, I'm not accepting them.'' She crossed her arms, indicating she was sticking to her words, almost stubbornly. 
The other drivers looked on proudly, glad she was standing by her belief and didn't give in simply because it would make everything ''easier''. Lewis gave her a nod, subtly letting her know he supported her and had her back. 
''Alright, then that will result in a fine of a number that is yet to be determined.'' Derek picked up his pen and wrote down that she would not come by their office, already knowing his colleagues wouldn't be happy with it. 
''Just so you know- I'm not paying that.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 
Derek looked up from his journal. ''If you refuse to pay the fine, we can either add a grid-place penalty or a time penalty.'' He recited the rule as if he had done it a million times before. 
''Derek, this is stupid,'' Kimi decided to voice his opinion, ''the race shouldn't be affected, because of a comment she made that had nothing to do with racing in the first place.'' He defended her, allying behind her stance to not accept any of the penalties they give her. 
''I'm just doing my job, Kimi.'' 
''I also want to just do my job, Derek, which is racing, but these ridiculous rules to silence me prevent me from doing that.'' Y/N argued his response, just wanting him to see her point of view. 
The director's hand went over his face, seemingly wiping his agitation away. ''No one is trying to silence you, Y/N.'' He quickly answered. 
''That's why all the other drivers receive penalties whenever they question the FIA, right?'' Her comment must have shut him up as he solely put his pen down without saying another word about the matter. ''Yeah, that's what I thought.'' 
Y/N felt her presence wasn't longer necessary as she stood up from her chair, ready to leave the room and join her engineering team in preparation for the upcoming race. However, Derek felt different about that. ''The briefing isn't over yet, Y/L. Sit back down, please.'' 
''I'll see you at the next meeting, Derek.'' She ignored his plea and walked towards the door. 
The director stood up from his desk at the front. ''Y/N, if you leave before it's done, the board will-'' 
''The board can kiss my ass.'' 
Tumblr media
''Y/N Y/L RECEIVES A 20-PLACE GRID PENALTY AHEAD OF THE 2021 SPANISH GRAND PRIX DUE TO DAMAGING REMARKS AGAINST THE FIA'' 
''FIA RE-EVALUATING Y/N Y/N's PENALTY AFTER BACKLASH'' 
''FIA SUSPENDS GRID PENALTY OF Y/N Y/L DUE TO AN ERROR'' 
The day after the driver's briefing had been quite eventful to say the least. As soon as the FIA announced that she had been given a penalty, the backlash from drivers, fans and reporters started. 
Lewis had condemned their decision claiming it was based on nothing and that nothing about her comment was an attack on the organization. His teammate, Valtteri, followed him in his opinion stating: ''Drivers should be able to say what they want to say, she doesn't deserve a penalty for that.'' 
Sky Sports F1 reporter, Martin Brundle, also came to the driver's defense. ''If we're going to punish drivers for stating their opinions, we might as well get rid of the entire sport, especially if what they're saying isn't far from the truth.'' 
After finishing P5 in the race, Y/N spoke to Will Buxton in her post-race interview. ''You must be very happy with your result today, considering you almost had to start from the very back of the grid.'' 
''I'm content with today's race, obviously would have loved a podium but Mercedes was better today,'' she chuckled, ''yeah, it wasn't fun waking up to that news, but I'm happy that it was reversed and the support I received was just- wow, I'm very grateful for everyone.'' 
''According to some sources, it got pretty heated in the driver's briefing on friday- would you like to clarify?'' Will asked her. 
A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. ''I would just like to forget about it, moving on is the best thing to do right now.'' She smoothly avoided the question, figuring she shouldn't make the FIA more mad by airing out all their business. 
''Alright, thank you so much for talking to us, Y/N and congratulations on your race today.'' He nodded, bidding her goodbye. 
On her way back to her team's hospitality, she was stopped by none other than Susie Wolff. ''Lewis told us what happened during the briefing- I'm very proud of you for standing up for yourself, not everyone could have done that.'' 
''It was so awful, Susie,'' Y/N hugged the older woman, ''it's like they just wanted to give me some sort of punishment- I don't even want to know what would have happened if I went down there by myself.'' Susie rubs her back at her words, also not wanting to think about what could have gone down. 
''It's okay now, honey,'' they pulled apart, Susie's hand staying on her shoulder, ''by the way- did you really say that the board could kiss your ass?'' 
Y/N laughed at her question, excitedly nodding her head. ''At first I wanted to say something like 'the board can stick that penalty right up their ass’ but I needed a cool getaway so I opted for something shorter.'' 
''Atta girl'' 
Tumblr media
taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @formulazeesworld @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123-blog @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @scuderialavender @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis 
if you want to be added to the taglist, fill in the form!
4K notes · View notes
theribbonmarkedroom · 10 months
Text
11 quick(ish) things I learned from my first read-through of the ATSV art book:
1) Jeff was promoted to police chief because of his “cordial relationship” with Spider-Man (which makes things so much worse)
2) the creative team from the movie were directly inspired by the spidersonas people made when Into the Spider-Verse came out (especially when creating new Spider Heroes)
3) the immediate colors of Gwen’s world are based on her mood “She’s kind of like a mood ring, and whatever she’s experiencing is expressed in the color of that scene” (I say immediate because it’s mentioned that anything she’s not directly focused on gets pushed to the back in terms of colors, so the backgrounds are more muted at times while the main part of the scenes are more vibrant)
4) idk if this was in the comics because I don't follow any of the comics, but Pavitir got his powers “from a mystical shaman” and was not bitten by a radioactive spider
5) the book refers to Earth-42 Miles as Miles G. Morales (like Peter B. Parker) & “We wanted to create a world where it felt like Aaron and Miles G. Morales of Earth-42 [this reality’s counterpart to Miles] are the only heroes”
6) Peter B. is “a stay at home dad” (besides the spider society stuff of course)
7) LYLA is an acronym for “Lyrate Lifeform Approximation” (and she is also “Miguel’s closest friend” and maybe even his only friend)
8) Miguel has a personal journal that LYLA helps record entries for
9) Kemp Powers (the director) describes Hobie as “much older” than Miles. I bring this up since there’s been some debate about his age in the film for a while but the art book doesn't give anything more specific than that
10) Spider-Byte “thinks Miles is kind of cute” (which is obvious from the film but I think it’s funny how it’s brought up in relation to the reasons why she helped Miles escape Miguel)
11) There’s a deleted scene from the film where Spot goes to The Bar With No Name and has some interactions with some familiar villains and the bartender (won’t say too much about it since I’m assuming the scene will show up in the blu ray)
648 notes · View notes
forbidden-sunlight · 5 months
Text
yandere! merman!chu wanning with a male!researcher!reader scenario
Tumblr media
Warnings: Canon Divergence/Alternate Universe, Obsessive behavior, implied bullying, and OOC.
There may also be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome to the White Husky and His Pet Cat Shizun ficlet that I collaborated with the talented @berrypuddingpwease a while back. Definitely check out their blog if you are interested in this series, or others such as Heavenly Official's Blessing.
So without further ado, sit back, relax, and enjoy! :)
It hadn’t been that long since the merfolks first made contact with the humans, and definitely not enough time for any self-respected scholar to drop everything and study them. Whether it was blessing in disguise or simply dumb luck, you, a leading researcher in xenobiology, volunteered to be the one to carry out the task.
You would live in a small cottage overlooking the sea, near a merfolk’s nest, though you weren’t sure if that is even the correct terminology to use to describe their habitat. It would probably be better to use the terms  lower world and higher world. After all, the merfolks still maintained a cautious line of behavior and were not truly ready to meet any humans, much less a researcher who would be documenting everything about them for the next six to seven months. Thank goodness for generous and curious sponsors. 
Your territory covered a choppy part of the sea, although it is technically under the water. Beneath the waves were beautiful reefs and unusual marine life forms, most of which had not been discovered yet by other biologists, until now. Although you were cautious when diving, the merfolks had warned you about the others living in the lowlands and not to remove anything from their environment unless there was consent from the leader. You began to spend less time swimming in unknown territory and more time on land to communicate with the merfolk who were willingly to participate in a mutual research experiment, all in the name of learning how to coexist with one another. 
The merfolks’ settlement was called the Summit of Life and Death. While you were not well acquainted with the other merfolk, it wasn’t your place to judge why they named certain landmarks or customs that were part of their everyday life. 
However, from the small group of merfolk who were willingly to communicate with you, there is one who kept coming back even when he did not seem like a friendly one at all. His name was Chu Wanning, and his physique resembled more of a shark than a merman with his silver tail that reflected golden right beneath the rays of the sun and his thin, sharp facial features. His eyes were the most fascinating feature of him, in your opinion; the inky irises resembled an eternal winter, or a phoenix who could not be reduced to ashes even if he were at death’s door. 
You did your best to keep your questions as brief as possible while giving him as much personal space as needed so he did not feel more uncomfortable than he already did, though you were always excited to see and talk to him with each passing day. Chu Wanning might believe those lovely webbed hands of his were too ugly for any human to see, but not you. They could not possibly be dry or unpleasant to the touch. Neither could the merman himself, this creature who appeared to have been carved from marble and given life, cold and beautiful. This strange, aloof merman who always maintained eye contact when speaking to you and exchanged information about his culture and customs, but never anything personal. You would never dare to cross that line when he has already given you so much, his words slowly filling the pages of your research journal. 
You did not know what it meant for him when he brought a small group of younger mermen with him on your next visit, but this unexpected development did allow you to interact with the most sociable, talkative, and shameless mermaid you have ever met: Mo Ran. 
Unlike his peers or his mentor, the scales of his obsidian tail shimmered beneath the sunlight as a light shade of crimson. Apparently it was very rare for someone of the merfolk to possess such a dark colored tail as Mo Ran did. Other clans speculate it is a sign of a terrible omen to befall upon those closest to them in the distant future. While he said this with a casual smile, waving it off as superstition…you could see the faintest glimmer of sadness in his eyes, and the way he looked at one of the other mermen, Shi Mei, you believed was his name. 
“If it means anything, coming from a human…I believe your tail is very beautiful.” You said, smiling softly as your deft fingers flipped to another empty page, steadying the pen in your hand. “What else can you tell me about the courting customs between the merfolk?” 
“Why do you want to know so much about us anyway?” He fired back, face flushed, no doubt from exposure to the sun. “Do you plan on courting that cold-hearted bastard? You know it’s forbidden for a merman to interact with humans, much less fall in love with them.”
Your brow disappeared into your hairline at his words. “Chu Wanning has been nothing but polite and cordial towards me in this experiment.” You answered carefully. “Furthermore, all of this information will be collected in a book to share with fellow scholars. If there is anything that he does not wish for me to share with the world, I will gladly omit it. I will not jeopardize our…tentative relationship, for a rise in status. There are more important things in life than being a renowned researcher, you know.” 
Mo Ran just stared at you with a stupefied expression. Perhaps he believed you had ulterior motives, another selfish reason why you would even bother doing all of this. Perhaps he thought you were the oddest human you had ever met. Perhaps this is the first time he had someone speak about his master without any animosity, or any animosity towards his kind. Either way, you hoped he was satisfied with your answer. And he seemed to be, or just decided to change the subject by going into excruciating detail about the courting rituals of mermaids. He was about to sing into your tape recorder and provide an example of the bawdy love poems that were performed by the males to their intended mates, when Chu Wanning suddenly appeared behind the young shark.
He seemed…quite furious. He didn’t even give the poor thing a chance before he lectured the daylights out of Mo Ran, going so far as to say that mermaids do not sing such shameless lyrics unless they are actually desperate to attain the affection of their desired mate, even when they rejected them for whatever reason.
Mo Ran glared balefully at his master for a long moment, then spared you one more glance before he disappeared beneath the white-capped waves with a flick of his glistening tail. 
To your shock, the great Chu Wanning lowered his head and apologized for his disciple’s behavior, promising to punish Mo Ran for acting so unsightly. 
“It’s quite alright, really.” You reassured him quickly. “He wasn’t being disrespectful, he was….very honest. And he kept me company. Though, if I may be so bold to say this, I do enjoy your company quite a bit more than Mo Ran’s.” 
You said, smiling at him, glancing down at your journal briefly to flip to a crisp, new page. “So, where did we leave off from our last conversation? I believe it was something to do with the mythology behind the summit’s origins?”
“…Mn.” 
You took the singular syllable as confirmation, your grin stretching from ear to ear in utter delight and anticipation. What you did not realize back then, your head being so wrapped up in possible theories and many other ideas, is that your companion was physically and mentally relieved to know that you were not besotted with Mo Ran in any manner beyond a scholarly fascination.
It eased his mind tremendously, because he has already begun to secretly make the necessary arrangements to commence a courting ritual of his own. Obviously, you were the one he wished to serenade. The desire to claim you and present all of the treasures in the world at your feet…it’s suffocating, but in such a lovely way that it sent pleasant tremors up his spine at the thought of being your mate, husband, whatever you prefer to refer to a lifelong companion by human terms. 
After all, that’s why you had continued to actively seek him out ever since you have arrived, is it not? Because you see him as not someone who is coveted for his strength and position as the master of Sisheng Peak, but someone who yearns for love, and you believe he is worthy of love and being loved in return even when he is an imperfect, disgusting creature.
Right? 
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@abelheilonwife
@yandere-dark-cupid
@sunnyblackbird
@kanroji-san
@sarcastic-cookie
@aestheticllyinmentalagony
@yoruciel
@moonreaper25
@noxiemoon
@hiyoko-akira-san
@sleep-all-day-everyday
@technikerin23
@ceeesxy-blog
@kanroji-san
259 notes · View notes
staytinyville · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Stay Alive (17)
BTS poly!ot7 x Reader
Magical Creatures AU
Series Masterlist
Warnings: None
A/N BETA READER @seoul9711 (Thank you for Beta-ing!) As normally! I love all your expressions over the whole chapter. Keep them coming! I love you guys!
Tumblr media
You had spent the rest of your day wandering around the facility in thought. Before you realized it, you had reached the garden area and found Yoongi sitting in the grass with his arms behind him. He was leaning back, sunglasses covering his eyes as he breathed deeply. 
His pale skin suddenly looked paler to you, a shiver going down your spine as you thought about his cold hands. 
“Yoongi?” You called softly, not wanting to startle him. He turned his head to look at you, acknowledging that you could approach. You walked closer, sitting down on your knees next to him. 
“Why are you using sunglasses indoors?” You laughed a little. 
“I dislike the light.” He pursed his lips and went back to leaning against his arms. 
You watched his neck stretch back, tilting your head to the side. The entry from Hobi’s journal left you baffled and bit on edge. You wanted to ask questions, you really did, but you knew if you pushed too much, they might not tell you anything. 
“Yes, you've told me.” You sighed. “But they are artificial light for the plants.” You glanced up, squinting at the glowing bulbs a hundred feet above.
“They are still UV light. It irritates my eyes.” Yoongi continued. 
Pursing your lips you began to think about all the myths involving vampires. They were sensitive to light, you knew this. Specifically they had some kind of issue with the sun and its rays. 
“So will you like—combust in the sun?” You asked. 
Yoongi looked at you with a deep set frown. “Where did you get that from: it irritates my eyes?” He questioned you. 
You felt a blush settle on your face, from how stupid you felt asking him those kinds of questions. “It just reminded me of like–the vampires from Twilight.” You shrugged. 
“They don't combust in the sun though?” Yoongi answered, raising an eyebrow. “They sparkle. Which is a load of bull.” He added. 
You suddenly got wary of how to go about asking him questions. There wasn’t really anything suspicious about knowing about vampires. You wanted to hear what excuse he would give. “What makes you say that?” You asked. 
“Sounds like they romanticized vampires.” The man shrugged, not giving you much else. 
“Wasn't that the point?” You raised a brow. You watched as his lips twitched, getting annoyed with the subject. 
“Yeah but now people think vampires are like these wickedly hot creatures who will love you for all eternity.” He rolled his eyes. “Absolutely stupid if you ask me.”
You purse your lips, keeping a giggle from escaping. Either he had read the books or watched the movie to make him think that way about on screen vampires. 
“I don't think you were the target audience.” You told him. 
“I personally think they could've done research.” He explained to you. 
“What? You know all about vampires?” You raised your eyebrows. 
Yoongi turned to you, glancing over your curious expression. His lips twitched, trying his hardest not to frown. You suddenly began to inquire too much about vampires and it was noticeable to him. You had been coming to see them for the past month and suddenly you noticed things out of the blue. It left him suspicious if you knew things already. 
“What if I do?” He raised a brow.
“Is that your favorite pastime? Reading about magical creatures?” You asked. He watched you turn around, trying to seem like you weren’t curious about the subject. “They don't exist. They're just myths.” You shrugged it off. 
“Are they now?” Yoongi turned to you fully, eyes glaring holes into the side of your head. You sucked in a breath, feeling his stare hit you deeply. At this point you knew he was suspicious of you. However you wanted to see what else he was willing to let go of. 
“You should still be scared of them.” He added. 
You quickly looked up at him, keeping eye contact. He licked his lips when he noticed you weren’t going to turn away from him. His head dropped down, daring you to challenge him. 
“I don't think I am.” You told him, raising your head. “They haven't given me a reason to be.”
Yoongi bit his lip in annoyance, his jaw clenching. He turned back to you, leaning over to get closer. You couldn’t see his eyes drifting around your face, but you did notice his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. 
“What are you getting at?” He asked you quietly. 
You smiled innocently, memorizing all the little things on his face that stood out to you. His puffy cheeks, his lips that he always seemed to have in a set line, the fluffiness of his hair that needed to be cut. You took in everything that made Yoongi look human. You wanted to think he was. 
“I would laugh at vampires who sparkle—sounds absolutely hilarious.” You snorted quietly. 
Your lips suddenly dropped, your eyes moving down to his. “But the ones who easily get irritated by light I'd believe.” He watched you look back up to keep eye contact. 
He glanced down at your lips as well, his own being pulled into a thin line as he sighed deeply. He chose to lay down on the grass, hands behind his head for cushion. He felt you scoot closer to him, almost leaning over him to block out the light. Truthfully he wanted you to look over him so he could take off the sunglasses. 
He wasn’t the leader of the group to speak on the matter but he knew he would have to talk with Namjoon about it. Closing his eyes, he decided on communicating with Namjoon through the telepathic connection Hobi placed on all of them. 
As Namjoon replied back that they would all speak on it, Yoongi felt you leaning over to speak to him. 
“Yoongi, why are you here?” You asked him. 
He stopped the connection quickly, moving his glasses off him. He watched your lips pull into a small smile now that you could see his eyes. 
“Because I have a blood condition.” He shrugged.
“Blood?” You frowned. “What is it exactly?”
“I need more of it.” He watched as you subconsciously scooted closer, one of his hands moving from behind his head to place itself on your knee. 
“You don't produce enough?” You inquired
“You could say that.” He hummed, rubbing his thumb along your skin. He felt you shiver at the coldness of his skin, but you seemed to enjoy his touch anyway. 
“How do they give it to you then?” A smile overtook his features when he noticed that you seemed to throw caution out the window and continued asking your questions. “I've never seen blood bags in your room.”
“I take tests for that. Just like all the others.” He explained. 
There wasn’t really a problem with Yoongi saying he didn’t produce enough blood. There was a disease where someone couldn’t produce enough blood cells, which wouldn't really call for speculation. 
Maybe you were in your head. Read something wrong in the journal. You couldn’t help but to think about everything that was said about each of the boys. There were signs you hadn’t really thought much about but you now knew they were there. 
Yoongi was just one the ones that were obvious about what he was. The only thing now is trying to figure it out for yourself, if the things you read about in books were real. 
“I'm going to go check on Kook. Would you like to join me?” You asked him while standing up. 
“I'll go in a bit.” He gave you a gummy smile. “I have something to check out.”
“Of course. I'll see you later, Yoongi.”
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist
@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie
267 notes · View notes
enwonz · 3 months
Text
♫ i can see you x sparks fly | y.jw
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
as your eternal academic rival, you and jungwon have always been at odds - that is, until he becomes the one person you want to trust your heart with in spite of it all. after all, all’s fair in love and war, no?
read the rest of the series here! (for taglist)
pairing ➭ academic rival jungwon x reader
genre ➭ academic rivals to dubious to lovers, hurt/comfort, academic validation craving, jungwon is reader’s sole comfort
w/c ➭ 5.4k
warnings ➭ slightly suggestive (they’re adults but no nsfw y’all), reader and jungwon both have terrible coping mechanisms for stress, there is a detailed scene where y/n loses her shit in a bathroom, both are academic validation simps, theyre not enemies they just. envy each other and sometimes wanna kiss kiss fall in love, y/n has an inferiority complex and has a tendency to think jungwon’s better than her, she hates herself as much as i hate myself
a/n ➭ to my acad validation peeps…look no further! jungwon and y/n…their ways of coping with themselves are mine. i just split myself in two for them, don’t come for my lonely ass lmao. for more context, look at the bottom a/n!
Tumblr media
“done?”
the sun’s beginning to set, its dimming rays beaming through the glass windows of the library. a quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 6.30pm, and that you’ve been studying for the whole day. talk about a productive saturday.
you remove your headphones, glancing over your shoulder. you were planning on staying till the librarian shoos you out. jungwon seems to have other plans, though.
yang jungwon, your rival in just about everything since you were kids. tied with you in every single subject, even PE. he’s everything you are and more – good-looking, funny, and a genius, to top it all off, and he never lets you forget it, what with all the achievements he’s gotten over you. it’s not that he doesn’t work hard and you’re jealous of some natural academic gift he’s got, it’s the fact that you study just as hard as he does, do as much as he does, and yet people will always see him before you. and now, even when you’re at university, he’s still fighting with you for the top spot, for every position available. your circle of friends have remained the same, so like it or not, you’re stuck together.
you begin to stuff your notes into your backpack. “well, i might as well follow you back to the dorms. yunjin’s been lecturing me to stop walking back alone.” gathering your things, you leave, waving to the librarian as you attempt to put some distance between you and jungwon.
very quickly, jungwon moves beside you so his shoulder is almost pressed up against yours. “you sure took your time. if i hadn’t come to find you, the last bus across campus would’ve come and gone by the time you finished.”
“oh, don’t exaggerate. why’d you come here in the first place, when all you do is complain?” 
you want to say you hate the boyish grin that breaks out across his face, but that would be a lie, and you’ve done way too much lying today to yourself. “what else? i came here for you.”
“ugh, you-!”
“you ears are red, haha.”
your bus pulls into the stop, and in a thoughtless attempt at revenge, you grab his arm and yank him up the steps so he’s even closer to you than before. you don’t miss the way his skin flushes hot.  “now yours are too.” leading him to a seat in the back, you pinch his side. he returns your…affection with a jab in the cheek. 
it’s a game of cat and mouse with jungwon, although neither of you can say for sure who’s chasing and who’s ducking away. whatever this is, it’s safer. 
at least you’re not actually fighting anymore.
here’s the thing: yang jungwon has this journal. every time he’s upset or on the verge of a mental breakdown, he trauma dumps into that journal. it’s the only way he doesn’t cave from the stress, and you and your friends learned very quickly that if that notebook was out, everyone had to leave him alone for at least ten minutes, then he’d be himself again. one day, you’d been studying together when a draft blew the pages of his journal open, straight to the page where he’d written something that was definitely not for your eyes — or anyone’s for that matter. 
“i hate her, so so much i wish she was dead. maybe in a different lifetime, i’ll be better than her, have her beat for once.” you didn’t even need to finish reading what he wrote before you were clawing at his throat, because who else could it be but you?
and it hurt to read it, because what could it mean than yang jungwon was jealous of you? what could it mean that the one person you simultaneously hated and envied, hated you back for all the same reasons? it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t even hate him peacefully.
it only got worse from there, because all it took was a couple minutes of yelling at each other before that ass of a human being decided it was a good idea to tell you it was “three years ago”, and that it shouldn’t matter as much as it did, as if that was supposed to help. and you’d screamed at him, screamed and cried and shoved him and-
his lips were against yours. 
you would’ve pushed him off, but as soon as it came it went, and he’d pulled away faster than you could think. “i don’t hate you,” he’d managed to make out, his voice shaky as he tried and failed to recollect his thoughts. “i just…i can’t hate you. not anymore.”
hell, maybe it was the attention, or some sort of sick stress outlet. you wish it were the latter, because then that would’ve been a hell lot easier. either way, you haven’t spoken about it since then, reason being you’re totally out of your comfort zone when it comes to this guy. plus, he’d taken your first kiss, although he didn’t have to know that. having put your all into your academic life, you haven’t really thought about dating anyone at all. sure, there were a few people whom you’d thought were fairly attractive, but you had never cared to do anything more than that (much less with yang freaking jungwon). your ultimate goal has always been to have jungwon beat. you sort of achieved that, you suppose. the boy’s now a mess when it comes to you. 
since then, you’ve been using each other as stress relief. stupid, really, but with that annoyingly good kiss still hanging between the two of you, you could only keep coming back for more, waiting for lulls in your timetables to meet up. one thing would lead to another, and…well.
“finished your revision yet?” you probe. if he says no, you’ll just drag him off to finish it. but he’s jungwon. if he says he’s gonna do something, he does it. although it’s sort of disappointing if he just parts ways with you, even after he came all this way to find you so far away from the dorms. 
jungwon sighs. “what do you take me for? of course i did, or you’d get mad at me. and i know you’re free for the rest of the day too.” he rummages through his backpack, before handing you a cap and mask. “put these on, i need a big brute to help me buy and carry groceries back to my dorm.”
“and who better than me, huh?”
jungwon grins, waving a matching set in your face. “you’re the multifaceted necessity in my life. my swiss knife, if you please.”
you end up at a mall just a few kilometres away from campus. apparently, he needs laundry pods, vegetables and some sort of microfibre cloth that “can only be blue, mind you.” according to him, if a hand towel doesn’t match his dorm’s colour scheme, the whole world falls apart. 
(for the record, his dorm room does look nice. but no one has to know that you know.)
pushing a shopping cart along the aisles, a bag of spinach catches your eye. “how’s this for vegetables?”
he shakes his head. “lettuce is better for hotpot.”
“since when did you plan on having hotpot?”
“it’s our dinner, y/n.”
“…”
he sighs. “i’m paying for the groceries.”
“well in that case…” you move to grab a few packets of meat from the fridge. “you won’t mind if i add these, will you?”
you don’t miss his odd gaze on you as he pushes the cart towards the checkout counter. “not at all.”
Tumblr media
so much for the grocery shopping.
dinner is long forgotten as you find yourself pinned up against the walls of jungwon’s dorm, his grip on your waist oddly comforting. your fingers are tangled in his dark locks, pulling him in deeper, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.
it feels so, so wrong, to be rendezvousing with him, and maybe he knows it too, because when he finally pulls away, there’s a guilty look on his face. “strike two…?” he grins sheepishly. he’s a little out of breath, and you hate to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. (actually, it’s the fifth time this week, but who’s counting? definitely not you.)
how? you’d maintained the status quo for more than a decade. hell, you two are supposed to loathe each other. knowing yang jungwon has some sort of feelings for you must be messing with your brain. 
jungwon’s lips latch onto your earlobe, fingers trailing down your nape. it’s crazy, the way every brush of his lips sends your head reeling. over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of his roommate’s neatly folded quilt, and a thought pops into your mind. “when’s sunoo getting back?”
“he just left for a party, he won’t be back for a bit,” jungwon murmurs. sunoo happens to be part of a circle of close friends consisting of yunjin, sunoo and ni-ki (and jungwon, although you could never admit he’s a friend). you’re a close-knit group, withholding no secrets with each other. more often than not, they’ve been caught up in your fights with jungwon, although those haven’t happened in a while, for obvious reasons.
you hum against his lips, fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin as you try to steady your breathing. “think the water’s boiled by now, get off.” it’s a half-hearted order, and you’re pretty sure jungwon sees through your bullshit. what was it, something about glass houses?
“don’t wanna.”
“jungwon come on-” the sound of a lock in a key slices through the air, jolting you and jungwon apart. panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to shove jungwon far away from you. “hurry up, hurry up.” 
sunoo’s voice drifts past the door. “must’ve left it in here somewhere, don’t know how i could’ve forgotten my id of all things.” the door opens to reveal a sheepish-looking sunoo, flanked by your friends yunjin and riki, who don’t look very pleased. their expressions, however, change the moment they spot you in the corner. “y/n?! what are you doing here?”
one look at the tiny hotpot contraption on the table, paired with the small portions of food is all they need to put two and two together. yunjin frowns, marching past sunoo. “ohh no, you two in the same room alone is a big no from me. by the time we get back, the whole place is gonna look like hell, with all the screaming and fire.” her disapproving glance at you makes you want to shrivel up and die on the spot. 
“we’ll be studying, don’t worry. we never fight when we’re studying,” jungwon shrugs, shooting a discreet glance in your direction, practically screaming help me.
“yeah see the thing is, you shouldn’t even be fighting-”
“yunjin, don’t.” sunoo takes her by the shoulder, dragging her back out the door. “keep our dorm in one piece, please. we’re off!” while yunjin still believes in peace between the two of you, sunoo’s learnt long ago that interfering with your rivalry only makes things worse. not that you don’t feel a little bad about it.
the door slams shut, leaving you and jungwon alone in the room. it’s an uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness of the interruption still lingering.
“y/n, i-”
you hold out your hand. “give me a moment, gosh.” burying your face in your hands, you groan. “that was probably the worst thing ever. we lied in their faces, they’re gonna kill us if they ever find out.”
you suppose it’s your despair that elicits a sound awfully like a snicker from him. some things never change. “did you see the looks on their faces? they’ll never see it coming.” you finally raise your head, watching as jungwon smirks at you with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. paired with that loose-fitting hoodie of his, and the sweatpants (grey, no less), you’re simultaneously insanely smitten and utterly appalled by said attraction. why’d he have to be so good-looking? he wasn’t this handsome when you were growing up. yang jungwon is going to be the death of you.
it really does take all your efforts not to just shove him onto the couch and claim his lips for yourself again. and then you nearly faint from the prospect of having that thought at all. hastily, you shove a wad of meat into the boiling pot on the table. “we-we should start eating. don’t want the food to turn bad.”
he shrugs, pulling up a chair opposite you. “don’t mind if i do.”
and if you pop open a couple beers afterward, no one has to know.
Tumblr media
shit. shit.
days later, you’re at a study cafe with all your friends. you’ve spent the past hour on this topic, and it’s taking everything inside of you not to smash your laptop in half and bash your head into the debris. what the hell is this? you’re not supposed to be bad at this. a glance at jungwon tells you he’s not having nearly as much trouble as you are, and that’s your breaking point.
panic rises in your throat, your lungs, as your vision blurs. words on the screen start to blend, and you think to yourself, you’re a failure again. worthless no matter how hard you try, breaking apart even while trying to hold yourself together. you can feel every tear leave a searing path down your cheeks, nails clawing for skin to carve red lines into. your eyes burn with the buildup of tears, a telltale sign you’re about to lose your shit. in front of jungwon, no less. just great.  
you stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they drag across the floor. “bathroom,” you manage to make out, as you dash across the cafe full of people, praying no pne notices. you fling the bathroom door open, turning on the tap at full blast. you don’t realise it, but your fingers are gripping the edges of the sink with an intensity you didn’t think was possible. 
your eyes flutter shut as you try to calm down, focusing on the flow of the water. it’s not working, but the white noise is more soothing than anything right now. that is, until you hear a clicking sound, followed by arms wrapping around you from behind. judging by the shallow breaths, and the mellow scent of baby lotion, it’s exactly who you think it is.
in your rush, you forgot to lock the door. wonderful.
you lean away from jungwon’s embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him, but he stubbornly holds you tighter. “go back, i’m fine.” you don’t even believe yourself, from the way your voice trembles in between gasps.
he hums, and with your back against his chest you can feel the little vibrations as his speaks. “you don’t say.” he doesn’t continue, and in the silence, your mind stays on the warmth of his body against yours. slowly, you let yourself relax into him. it’s funny, how he can be the problem and the cure at the same time. 
you can feel yourself melting in his arms, your breathing evening out with every second that passes. your heartbeat’s finally slowed to a calmer thrumming, no longer pounding in your ears. suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his soft sweater against your cheek, and the way a thin piece of fabric is the only thing between your skin and his. 
“how do you do it?”
jungwon frowns. “do what?”
“hold up the world and make everything seem fine, when you know it’s not.”
he falls silent, resting his head in the crook of your neck (it’s becoming a habit of his). “well…it’s easy when it’s for someone else.”
“that so?” you muse, peering back up at him. “even for me?”
the way he averts your gaze is insanely cute. “don’t push it.”
but you know he hasn’t lied to you. since you were kids, jungwon’s never been the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. he holds everything together, holds everyone together. even now, he’s keeping you from falling apart. but what about him? who’s watching him to keep him from losing it all? you know for sure he’s had his fair share of breakdowns, but your stomach churns at the thought that you’ve never witnessed it. not once. being yang jungwon is lonelier than it seems.
once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you untangle yourself from his embrace. “i’ll, um, head back first. you should wait a few minutes before you go back.”
“right.” glancing down at his feet, jungwon nods. “just…you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
you turn to leave, but a question burns all the way down your throat. 
why? would you take it from my hands and bear it with me?
(and what if you wanted to bear his burdens too?)
Tumblr media
true enough, your performance on the latest assignment was more than decent — the highest score in your class, in fact. and as always, jungwon’s not far off. your hard work did pay off. funnily enough, you don’t go to rub it in his face like you always used to do.
it seems you’ve changed.
these days, jungwon seems to linger in your head a lot more. and it’s not just the intimate gestures that stay, but the feeling of his arms around you just won’t disappear. every time you’re about to panic, the mere memory of his gentle touch only serves to ground you back to reality. he’s not even physically here, but you don’t need him to be there for him to be your lifeline. how did things even turn out like this? your greatest rival, also your greatest source of comfort.
today, your friends have made plans to head to an amusement park (read: disneyland. because yunjin’s a disney adult in the best sense of the word). you, jungwon, sunoo, yunjin and riki, along with his girlfriend. the dynamic’s great, really, with everyone carrying the mood well so nothing ever feels boring. you’re able to grab a few rides with them, and eventually the group splits for different attractions, and it’s just you, riki and jungwon, waiting for the others to get back from some quirky river ride. you three didn’t bring spare clothes, so you’ll have to sit this one out. parked under a shady tree, you don’t feel the heat nearly as much, but sweat’s starting to make your shirts cling to your backs.
thirty minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of them. riki’s phone pings. “oh, the ride’s delayed. they’re gonna queue for another forty minutes.”
“forty?”
riki shrugs. “it’s a popular ride.”
you rise to your feet. “okay, i’ll go get us some water. you guys stay put.”
fortunately for you, the shop’s got plenty of water bottles, although the marked-up prices do make your wallet cry a little. what you aren’t prepared for, however, is walking back and spotting riki and jungwon huddled under the tree, deep in conversation. quickly, you press your back up to the other side of the tree trunk, hiding in plain sight.
“…you want relationship advice from me?”
jungwon hums. “well, i can’t very well ask sunoo, not when he’s only just stopped partying away to handle his own breakup.”
“true. we need to find him some better coping mechanisms. though i think he’s back in contact with her on instagram. i swear i saw a notification on his phone the other day with her user and all. that webinar he’s going for next tuesday? think it’s her.”
“oh.” you can hear the wince in jungwon’s voice. “that’s a little…”
riki glares at him. “don't change the subject. shoot.”
he sighs, his lips twisting in concentration. it’s a habit he’s had for a long time, one that you’ve come to notice. “so there’s this girl.”
“uh-huh.”
“i can’t stop thinking about her.”
“uh-huh.”
“but i know she hates me-”
“shit, you like y/n?!” riki yells, slapping jungwon on the back before he can even finish. “of all the billions of people on the planet?”
“how’d you guess?”
“she’s the only one who hates you, buddy. no prizes for guessing who.”
jungwon groans, burying his face in his hands. “i don’t know anymore. she just can’t get out of my head. don’t tell the others, i’m begging you. i’ll never live it down.”
“okay…” riki trails off, and you can imagine how confused he is. “why her though? and why now?”
jungwon’s practically fumbling for an answer, running his hands through his hair (another nervous tic of his). “it’s just…i guess i get her, and she gets me? we understand each other’s problems really well. it’s like looking into a mirror.”
you nearly choke at his words. he gets you, that much is clear. but for him to feel like you know him inside out, that’s a completely different thing altogether. it’s always been a struggle for you to read people. coupled with the fact that jungwon’s the most emotionally intelligent and regulated guy you know, you’ve been worried you’re not giving him enough. 
besides, he’s so much more than you’ll ever be. you, the mentally unstable top student, and jungwon, the other contender for your spot, but with something more: people skills. everyone likes him, everyone wants to be him. the battle’s lost before you can even fight it. he’s a good person, and you’re…nothing like that. people trust him, including you. 
so why would he dare to leave his heart in your hands like that?
it’s not fair. he knows exactly what to do, and you know nothing. he’s dated other girls before, not many but enough to be more experienced than you. how would you know anything, other than to clumsily take his affection with a heap of salt? you’ve failed him. 
oddly enough, riki seems to understand. “i think i catch your wind, but you’ll have to elaborate. what’s the dynamic with her right now?”
“i, uh.” jungwon flounders, his cheeks turning pink, no doubt at the memory of everything you’ve done with him. “th-that’s not…well.” he laughs nervously. “how much can i say before it’s too much info?”
as you watch him with his toothy grin, with those eyes that crinkle in the corners, you know one thing - you absolutely adore him. it’s sudden, but how could you not? he’s everything. much as you hated him, it takes little of your pride to admit he’s been your lifeline for a while now. but you wonder, why would he pick you? for the sole reason that you know him well? that isn’t enough, is it? you may have never understood romance, but you’re guessing this isn’t the usual kind of reason people fall for other people.
besides, there’s nothing special about you.
you end up waiting for the conversation to drift to small talk before joining them back. as always, jungwon’s quick to revert to his usual, teasing self. and despite it all, you find your gaze to be on him the whole time.
Tumblr media
it’s dark out when you guys finally make your way back to the dorms. with the others off buying water and snacks for a late-night hangout, you’re left alone with jungwon to head back. he’d conjured up some lie about you leaving some study material in his dorm and needing to grab it before going back to your own, and they seemed to buy it. so here you are, walking along a concrete pavement with the boy you can’t seem to understand, with rain practically beating down your backs. the weather really hates you.
with your path being lit only by the orange glow of the overhead street lamps, and the air filled with nothing but the sound of pouring rain, there’s nothing much you can say. nothing really feels right to say right now, because how do you even begin to address anything in the past month?
jungwon’s grip on the umbrella is tight. you swear it’s leaning slightly towards you. in his other hand is a plastic bag of merch you got from the amusement park, full of junk like headbands and shirts. 
wordlessly, you sneak your pinky into the palm of his hand, hooking your fingers together. there’s an odd sort of intimacy in the little gesture - a silent reassurance that concedes a lot more than you’re usually willing to. to your relief, jungwon doesn’t mention anything about it.
suddenly, his footsteps slow to a halt. he whips out a pair of sparklers from the bag you’d gotten from the amusement park, slipping one into your hands. “quickly, before they come back.” as he fumbles with the lighter, a familiar endearing look of concentration on his face makes you giggle a little. the lighter clicks a few times, and the sparklers come to life.
despite the pouring rain, the sparks of violet flash brightly, illuminating your view of each other. with his face glowing a pretty shade of purple, you can see the ridges in his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the curve of his mouth. “and why exactly are we lighting fires in a downpour?”
“oh shut up, i’m trying to have a moment with you here.” the retort comes easily, a little too easy, seeing as he slaps his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “you heard nothing.”
“mhm.”
and then he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk, the faint crackling filling the silence as you continue on. you can sense jungwon’s gaze on you, so you pinch his arm. “something on your mind?”
he exhales softly, patting your shoulder. “if i say it’s you?”
“then you’re a cheesy bastard. what’s really going on?”
he laughs, but you know there’s something lying under the surface. there always is. (huh, maybe you do know him better.)
“it’s nothing, really. just thinking about…us, i guess.” he pauses. “well, mostly you, if i’m being honest. i don’t really know where to start.”
you shift closer to him under the umbrella, till your cheek is pressed against his arm. “i think i do. your journal?”
“ah.” he grimaces, his laughter a little less nervous. “that much i’m sure you’ve already guessed. i don’t think i ever hated you, y/n. not really. i guess i just got scared that there was someone who saw through me so well.”
“and…are you still scared?”
he shakes head firmly. “no. it’s a good thing, because, well. you feel safe. like a place i can go to and let my guard down. i imagine doing things with you i’d never do with anyone else.”
“not naughty things, i hope,” you joke, but the brilliant red that blooms so bright across his face you can see in the dark is extremely telling. “yang jungwon! get your mind out of the gutter!”
feigning a cough, he looks away, fighting for whatever dignity he’s got left. “my point is, i can’t go on as your rival. i…i need you.” he swallows, and in his eyes there’s a vulnerability you know is saved only for you. “i don’t know why, but knowing you’re the only one who understands me is all i’ll ever need. selfish as it is, i want to keep you here forever, so i don’t have to feel alone again.” he says it all with a conviction that’s so strong it almost scares you. he’s putting all his trust into you. does he not think it’s terrifying, to leave all his sorrows with a person like you?
“are you confessing to me?” you whisper breathlessly. you seriously hope he can hear you over the crashing rainfall. “because i’m not sure if i’m-”
“yes. i’m confessing to you, like right now.”
oh. oh.
but there’s an ache in your chest that swells as you try to meet his glassy eyes. “but if you know me so well, you’ll know that i’m not all that. i’m an emotional wreck who can’t live without her ego, and i’m just…me.” and you’re so much more, more than i’ll ever be.
at this, he stops dead in his tracks, not giving a damn about the fact that the rain’s only getting heavier. “i-okay. what do you think of when you think of me?”
“how is this relevant?”
“just answer the question.”
you lick your dry lips, scouring your brain for a reply that can tell him exactly what you want him to know. “it’s like you can see who i am, like you know exactly what to do to make everything okay again. we’ve been under the same pressure to be good our whole lives, and when you try to make me feel better i can tell you mean it. and it works, and i honestly don’t know how i could possibly live without it, now that i know what it feels like to be loved by you.” if you’d told your younger self that years into the future, you’d get to bare your soul to your greatest rival, she’d probably laugh in your face. but here you are, and it’s comforting to know that he’d never judge you for it.
finally, yang jungwon grins that radiant grin of his, the tip of his sparkler meeting yours. “isn’t that reason enough, then, to keep me here? let’s be selfish for once, you goody-two-shoes.” the soft gaze he has on you has your already-weak resolve crumbling away, and it’s as though a hole’s been filled in your heart. one you didn’t even know existed.
“we’ve been too good our whole lives, haven’t we?”
“all the more a reason to be a little more reckless.”
but you let the sparkler fall to the puddle-strewn pavement as you cup his face in your palms, pressing your forehead to his. “for you? any leap of faith would be worth it.”
and you kiss him, with the force of every unsaid word, every apology and confession of the past eighteen years. as much as you’ve done this before with him, every other time he’s kissed you pales in comparison, because for once you see why you wanted him so badly. why you wanted him to have a piece of your soul. maybe, just maybe, pieces of you are already a part of him, and him of you. fragments of each of your shared pasts had embedded themselves in your hearts long before you’d learnt that the sting was one of longing, and not jealousy alone.
his grip on the umbrella loosens, his palm wraps around your nape, a thumb caressing your jaw in a movement both reverent and yearning. with the umbrella now blown far, far away, you’re completely drenched, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. as his other hand moves to hold your waist, you’re surprised at how naturally it comes. you tug him closer, and it’s both everything you’ve ever wanted, but at the same time never enough. breathing in the lingering scent of his lotion, you decide that this, this is home.
“...what we had was special, you know, and i can’t just let - am i seeing things? oh shit, you guys have to see this, oh my-” sunoo’s voice rings out in the night, and this time you just giggle against jungwon’s lips, not bothering to even look at your rightfully flabbergasted friends. this time, you want them to know.
riki sneers in disgust as he flings your stray umbrella towards you both. “i’d congratulate you, but i’ll be too busy puking in that corner right over there.”
“as if you and your girlfriend aren’t worse,” jungwon teases, catching the umbrella with one hand, the other still on your hip. gosh, that was attractive. 
oh gosh, this guy’s your boyfriend. yang jungwon is your boyfriend.
by now, your friends have caught up with you, and you’ve got a feeling they’re about to circle you like starving vultures for a good story. but you can’t even bring yourself to mind as jungwon takes your hand into his, interlacing your fingers as he reopens the umbrella. “ready to go?”
anytime, if it’s with him. 
Tumblr media
a/n ➭ so yall…the promised context. this started off as a secret romance thing where ynwon were more touchy feely (in fact this is the fic that started the whole series lmao). but along the way i decided to use this fic as my projection + built-in jungwon character analysis. tbh the final result of this fic is…very different from what i had in mind at the start, but i’m okay with how it turned out in the end! as always, thanks for reading till the end! if u have the time do reblog/comment so ik what i can improve on haha have a good week! ALSO DID YALL SPOT THE SUNOO X YN CRUMBS
119 notes · View notes
blueiskewl · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media
‘Curse’ Behind King Tutankhamun’s Tomb Mysterious Deaths Finally Solved
The unsettling curse of King Tutankhamun’s tomb in Egypt has bewildered archaeologists since it’s been feared to be linked to the mysterious deaths of multiple excavators who discovered it in 1922.
However, a scientist now claims to have solved the mysteries of the infamous “Pharaoh’s Curse” more than 100 years later.
Toxic levels of radiation emanating from uranium and poisonous waste are believed to have lingered inside the tomb since it was sealed over 3,000 years ago, Ross Fellowes wrote last month in the Journal of Scientific Exploration (JSE).
Tumblr media
The burial chamber in the tomb of Tutankhamun, near Luxor, Egypt.
The radiation level inside Tutankhamun’s tomb is so high that anyone who comes in contact with it could very likely develop a fatal dose of radiation sickness and cancer.
“Both contemporary and ancient Egypt populations are characterized by unusually high incidences of hematopoietic cancers, of bone/blood/lymph, for which a primary known cause is radiation exposure,” Fellowes wrote in his study.
However, this radioactivity isn’t isolated to Tutankhamun’s tomb.
Fellowes revealed that “unusually high radiation levels have been documented in Old Kingdom tomb ruins” and spread throughout sites in Egypt.
“Radiation has been detected by the Geiger counter at two sites at Giza adjacent to the pyramids,” he wrote, adding that radon — a radioactive gas — has also been detected in “several underground tombs at Saqqara.”
Tumblr media
The “Coffinette for the Viscera of Tutankhamun,” which contained the king’s mummified liver, depicts him as Osiris, holding a crook and flail.
Tumblr media
Medical imagery of Tutankhamun is shown above a replica of King Tut’s skull on display during the “Tutankhamun And The Golden Age Of The Pharaohs” at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in California.
These readings were all found to be “intensely radioactive.”
“Modern studies confirm very high levels of radiation in ancient Egyptian tombs, in the order of 10x accepted safety standards,” the study shared.
It’s also theorized that those who built the ancient tombs were aware of the toxins based on the eerie warnings carved on the walls.
“The nature of the curse was explicitly inscribed on some tombs, with one translated presciently as, ‘they that break this tomb shall meet death by a disease that no doctor can diagnose,’” Fellowes wrote.
Tumblr media
Outside the tomb of Tutankhamun during the 1922 excavation in the Valley of the Kings in Egypt.
Other ominous translations like “forbidden” because of “evil spirits” may have significantly fueled the fear that supernatural curses lingered in the ancient sites.
Those fears intensified with the mysterious deaths of Lord Carnarvon, who funded the excavation in 1922 and reportedly walked through the treasured filled rooms — and multiple others after they unsealed the tomb.
“Carnarvon was dead within a few weeks of the uncertain diagnosis of blood poisoning and pneumonia,” Fellowes wrote.
Tumblr media
Egyptologist Howard Carter (R) walks with archaeologist Lord Carnarvon, the patron of his research, outside the tomb of King Tutankhamun in 1922.
Egyptologist Arthur Weigall allegedly told colleagues that Carnarvon would “be dead within six weeks” upon entering, the study claimed.
Howard Carter, the first person to walk inside Tutankhamun’s tomb with Carnarvon, died in 1939 after a long battle with Hodgkin’s lymphoma, which was suspected to be caused by radiation poisoning.
British Egyptologist and independent excavator Arthur Weigall was present at the opening of Tut’s Tomb and is also credited with starting the ‘myth’ of the curse.
He died of cancer at 54 years old in 1934.
Tumblr media
Workers remove a tray of chariot parts from the Tomb of Tutankhamun in the Valley of the Kings, Egypt, in 1922.
In total, six of the 26 people present when the tomb was opened died within a decade from asphyxia, stroke, diabetes, heart failure, pneumonia, poisoning, malaria and X-ray exposure.
While the deaths can be seen as odd, the curse theory was also likely fueled by the oddities that happened when it opened.
Carnarvon had reportedly suffered a mosquito bite that became severely infected.
Around the time excavators opened the tomb, Cairo reportedly suffered a bizarre power outage and a freak sandstorm, according to National Geographic.’
At one point during the excavation, Carnarvon’s favorite dog allegedly let out a chilling howl and suddenly dropped dead.
Tumblr media
A photograph showing guards standing outside the tomb of Tutankhamun in Egypt in 1922.
Tumblr media
A sacred cow being removed from Tomb of Tutankhamun in 1922.
From a historical perspective, the discovery of the tomb in the Valley of Kings is considered one of the most fascinating finds that gave modern society a glimpse into the Egyptian royalty voyage into the afterlife.
Five thousand items, including solid gold funeral shoes, statues, games, and strange animals, were discovered inside Tutankhamun’s tombs.
It would take the excavators ten years to clear the tomb of its treasure.
Tumblr media
The golden funerary mask of Tutankhamun.
The unsealing and studying of the tomb is also credited with launching the modern era of Egyptology.
Tutankhamun took the throne as pharaoh around nine or ten years old and ruled between 1332 BC and 1323 BC.
However, he died by the time he turned 18.
There are no surviving records of Tutankhamun’s death and how the young pharaoh died remains a mystery.
However, Tutankhamun is suspected to have suffered from several health issues — likely linked to his father, Akhenaten, and his mother, Nefertiti, being brother and sister.
By Richard Pollina.
60 notes · View notes
white-poppie · 1 year
Text
ST✩RBOY: random hxh hcs
Tumblr media
Now playing- STARBOY by The weekend ft. Killua, Kurapika, Chrollo, Illumi Tw: dissociation
Tumblr media
💿 Kurapika
The most perfect man there is to exist!!?!!
So I know Kurapika had to almost grow up by himself, so I think he can handle household chores very well.
I would like to think that he somehow discovers baking. I just know he would be good at it <3
I just know he has super pretty cursive handwriting -sighs dreamily-
If you hug him, I know he would be so hesitant, but would slowly nuzzle deeper. If you were close to him and finally hug him, he would literally try his best to hold back tears (Please tell him, it's okay to cry!)
He smells so good omfg. I can't decide between Vanilla or some earthy smell, either way, it's so comforting yet at the same time it's like *eyes roll to the back of head*
You can read this for more scent hcs: Serenade my Senses
Call him pretty boy and he would be so shocked the first time, but as he gets used to it, he gives coy smile <33
I like the think it takes him a long time to get comfortable, but when he does it's so soft that it feels like breathing air. He is so touch-starved tho, so I can imagine him getting clingy after a while. (same bro same)
He is the knuckle and neck kisses type of dude *cue the flusters*
He hates Andrew Tate and his fans like he would go spit on them if could, this guy has the most healthy masculinity in all of anime and I love him for that.
Doesn't really understand the concept of memes tbh, he needs some explaining but he will laugh a little when you send them, he will once in a blue moon send memes but only the cat ones.
(realises how much I wrote for him while about to write more. This man has me on a chokehold frfr)
💿 Killua
He has trans-supporting t-shirts for him and Alluka. They are all matching.
Takes Alluka to pride parades! He has them sat on his shoulder the entire time too!!
Cant comfort a person even if his life depends on it. If you are crying he is just there like 🧍, awkwardly offering you some chocolate robots tho.
He just can't sit without moving every second! Literally a cat 😒
Older! Killua around 16-17 is a massive flirt! He is so quick to pull out reactions from anyone and takes a sick pleasure in it too??
Calls himself 'The Rizz lord' unironically.
His top Spotify artists would be Chase Atlantic, Mother-mother, The Scotts, Nirvana, Mitski and the Arctic Monkeys. Basically really an alt-rock/indie thing going on (us bro.)
💿 Chrollo
Mansplain, Manslaughter, Manwhore, Manipulate, Malewife ™️
Reads macabre literature like Crime and Punishment, No longer human, if we were villains, the secret history etc.
Tbh I feel like unlike how the fandom portrays him, he is a rather normal dude.
Gothic Academia ultra pro max.
Did the Soldier/Poet/King test, wanted 'king' but got 'poet'
Doesn't have pets because he thinks he can not take care of them
He loves animals tho, idk he seems the birds type of guy.
He likes the 'ominous' kind of birds more; like Ravens, Crows, Vultures and eagles.
Listens to Lana Del Ray and Maneskin, no questions asked.
Is scared of diving into conspiracy theories because he knows he would get sucked into the black hole because he is very interested in morbid things.
He is a DC fan, especially Gothan chronicles. (is that what it's called? Yk the things related to Gotham: joker, poison ivy, harlequin etc.)
Tried journalling once, failed terribly, and stopped after a week.
💿 Illumi
Oh wow, he is a difficult one to write about, but you guys love him, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I hate to say this, but I think he frequently dissociates, usually for very short periods of time, he doesn't even know it tbh, just thinks he is out of the element.
He is subconsciously under a lot of stress so his mind tries to flee from it by dissociating.
I wrote a little more about this here: Stuck in a vicious cycle
I think he likes potted plants, especially succulents. He is patient so I can see him take care of even the very difficult ones.
If he is going on a mission, he would go to his mother (because he cannot trust his siblings and father in this matter) like 'take care of my child.'
She actually manages to keep it alive somehow??
I think he knows how to do origami (he saw a child making a paper crane once and got curious.)
Illumi genuinely doesn't know how to care for his hair, he just follows whatever his mom tells him to do, so thank Kikuyo for those luscious tresses.
He has a hyper-fixation on mushrooms (not the psychedelic kind you weirdo). He knows the names of a lot of mushrooms.
Just imagine him and Hisoka taking walk and he randomly spots a mushroom and mumbles to himself 'Coprinus comatus'
and Hisoka is like:
Tumblr media
(yes it's a bad meme, but it's the effort that counts)
Tumblr media
🏷 Tags: @denkis111, @jazzylove, @lordmypantsaresocool, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp,@rintaroubby @nanaseishiro @innerpurple, @cleaningfairylevi, @webawee
⤷‧₊˚ Hunter x Hunter (ハンタ x ハンタ)
🥀 BYI/DNI ♡⌇ Request Rules 𓏸 🗝️ ₊﹒《 Join my Taglist •
656 notes · View notes
egonspenglerishot · 1 month
Note
Could I get a scenario for egon spengler x reader: where the reader is a sketch artist (like an artist that works for the police and does sketches) but in this case it's for the ghostbusters, where they sketch the ghosts based off a witnesses description and document them in a ghost journal of their cases. After one of their cases, Egon wanted to make a note in the ghost journal but ends up finding a different notebook that are not ghost sketches, but sketches of the ghostbusters and most of the sketches are of him. Reader walks in to see Egon found their personal sketch book and freaks out and becomes a stuttering mess. They end up confessing to each other and please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or two lol. Sorry if this is long, but I had some inspo and your work has been lovely 😊
Awww of course I can do this!
“Your arts amazing..”
Egon Spengler x reader
Tumblr media
You sighed as you closed your personal sketch book. You were in need for some decent coffee and you knew who to bribe. You went to the garage where Ray was and poked his shoulder “wanna get coffee? I need the caffeine” Ray chuckled and put his hands on his hips “let me get cleaned up and we will take the Ecto 1”
You nodded and got into the Ecto 1 smiling “hey girl. You’re just going to a coffee shop today nothing exciting” you patted the seat and yawned, meanwhile Egon was looking for some photo evidence of the recent ghost they’d captured. When he opened the sketchbook it wasn’t Ghosts but him and his fellow ghostbusters..strange…as he flipped through more most of them were just of him.
He lost track of time looking at all your sketches so much so you and Ray had gotten back from the coffee shop and you were outside the lab. You froze as you saw him looking into your personal sketch book cheeks ablaze with heat “e…Egon uh…mn”
He looked up and kept his calm composure. He was flattered that you’d drawn him so many times “your arts amazing” your heart began beating faster and because of the coffee “oh uh…thank..thank you?” He put the book down and went over to you kissing your forehead “and I saw the confession I love you to” you whined and hid your face in his chest as it rumbled with laughter.
87 notes · View notes
chaosandmarigolds · 1 month
Text
Little Dribble, drabble
Ellie is not a morning person normally...so why the sudden change of heart?
Ellie XReader!
warnings? Fluff, nothing really
Shamelessly you were an early bird, as your job required it of you, however on one of the very few days when the clinic was fine on its own and no one in your family was prompted to go on patrol for the foreseeable morning, you could sleep for a solid day and a half. It was a rare occurrence as if you were off your girlfriend certainly wouldn’t be, nor would your father, however, the stars seemed to align on that brisk morning and everyone in your humble and slightly run down (don’t tell Joel such a thing or he'll put you to work on some handyman job) home within the protected walls of Jackson.  
As the first rays of dawn painted streaks of gold across the sky, the soft murmur of birdsong filtered through the open window along with the faint murmur of people going on about their lives, gently rousing the world from its slumber. You thought, as you stretched out your limbs in the cotton sheets you would be welcomed by the sight of said girlfriend (who normally would sleep till noon if one allowed her to do such a thing) however you were met with the sun shining down on an empty spot on the bed. 
With a few confused blinks you move to sit up, not even wanting to think about how you must look in that moment. As your eyes adjusted to the light you saw Ellie sitting on the ground, hunched over her journals and sketchbook as if it were some treasure, “Ells?” It Must have startled the poor woman as she nearly jumped out of her skin at her nickname being merely mumbled
Ellie flashes you a toothy grin and pushes herself up to stand walking over to the bed and collapsing down onto it where her head rested on your thighs, a notebook held in the air- to which you give a confused stare. That triggered her motion to change her hold on it so it wouldn’t be upside down. She watches your expression for a moment with a craned neck and then frowns, “C’mon, gotta give your insights, Doc.” 
You gulp down and look at her, moving your hand from her hair to rub your eyes with a yawn, “It’s a tree. What can I say? It looks… tree-like?” 
“No.” She frowns up at you, taking your hand and aptly putting it back on her head, and then goes back to holding up the notebook, “Do you like it?” 
“I like sleep, and I like it when my girlfriend is asleep with me not huddled in a corner like some crazy person.” 
“Doc…” 
“Geez,” You mumble and then take the notebook with one hand and bring it closer to yourself to see it clearly, and with a content hum, you begin to notice why she was so proud of such a simple thing. The branches held cursive names along the details of the oak, and all of the names held to someone with the walls, each by family or group, so of course at the heart of the tree is where your name lay. 
“Okay, I like this too.”
Ellie beams as your complement breaks the silence of the room, eyes bleary with joy, “Oh?”
With a small shrug you set the book onto her chest and lean over to see her face in a better perspective, a small ghost of a smile on your lips as you see her face go red- you swore you could the smallest of things and she would go as red as the sun. “I’m very flattered.” 
Ellie let out an exasperated chuckle, moving her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “Should be, spent twenty minutes tryin to make sure it fit right.”
You let out a small giggle and then nod your head slowly, “Maybe we should frame it.” 
“I would rather die than for anyone to see my art.” Her response was immediate and very deadpanned.  
“Oh, yeah? Then maybe I should frame it and put it in the clinic.” 
“Doc, no.” 
AN: first post ever, let me know! :)
57 notes · View notes
azul-marie · 2 years
Text
little habits of love.
fem. reader feat. arthur, charles, javier, sean, john
arthur —
drawings to amuse.
his artistry is unknown to many but you, and perhaps little jack for all his curiosity. arthur is a private, sentimental man, all his thoughts collecting and manifesting across the pulp of his journal’s pages. but if you ask, even just to tease, you’ll no sooner receive a carefully folded gift of a drawing of something you mentioned to him before — a flower, a wild turkey’s feather, even a sleeping portrait of charles. some are detailed and thoughtful, shadows and light captured alike, while others are messy little scrawls drawn from boredom, of long trips back campward all alone. arthur says nothing of these gifts of his. the only thanks he needs is the way you grin up at him, the way you press those pages between ones of your own.
charles —
blocking sunny rays from a pretty face.
his statue is much discussed, height and build and all, strength seeping through the cloth of his clothing. charles is accustomed to being the tallest, the largest man in the room, save for a mr. arthur morgan. yet it still comes times his body serves for a purpose other than hurt, than suffering — times when the summer sun is high up above the clouds, its rays piercing your eyes, twisting that lovely face of yours into a grimace. he is not aware of when this habit began. charles knew only to spare you from this bother, by standing behind or besides you to give you a slice of shade while you worked. when you notice, the way you fawn so sweetly warms his heart, though he’ll only brush it off as the right thing to do. if it’s for you, it’s always right.
javier —
hands and arms at your beck and call.
he is a gentlemen, posh and proud in his own right. although the two of you live this life of freedom and criminality, javier never forgets to treat you like the loveliest lady you are. on riverbank walks, he’ll cross your elbows together to keep you warm and close. he insists on his hands on your waist whilst helping you dismount your horse. no matter the length of stairs ahead of you, his hand is always outstretched for you to steady yourself on the way down. before you need it, javier’s holding whatever it is out for you to pluck from his grasp, always anticipating your every move. he insists it is the compatibility between you both, how in tune you’ve grown to be. loyalty is his name, and he’s given it to you.
sean —
a quiet vulnerability.
his boisterous, cheeky camaraderie is unmatched by any other in the gang. sean is, at once, the joy and annoyance of every one person’s heart, despite their saying otherwise. but rarely, rarer than double-crossed rainbows or a sober camp party, sean falls silent. it is the type of silence that comes with trust, and a side of love; it is the kind that belongs only to you. where his head rests upon your lap, on your shoulder, your bosom, eyes closed in thoughtful quiet. where he soaks up your whispered words and gentle touches, wanting nothing more than his world enveloped by you. it never lasts long, for sean is too adamant of his feelings to go on without showering you in some sort of affection — but this quiet, his quiet, speaks volumes on his behalf.
john —
senses, touch, only for you.
during the wolf attack, it was all teeth and scapes and blood left behind to mark him. and after, it was pairs of hands after hands, touching his face, his battered body, until the day he finally healed enough to walk. john, plenty touch-starved before, now flinches and flicks off unwanted hands or legs or shoulders when he feels them getting too close. but you are never too close, no, never close enough. perhaps it is the shy of the soul that doesn’t allow him to admit aloud; whereas he snaps and growls at the others, it is by your hand he calms, whether it’s a stroke of his head or a caress of his cheek. it is a trust deeply connecting, said without words. john knows no hurt when it comes from you.
1K notes · View notes
loveandleases · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Our second fluff ABC's. This time for our hothead. You can find the first fluff ABC's here. Below the cut~)
A = Admiration - Cam admires honesty.
B = Body - Any part of MC, doesn't matter. Just know Cam is very much paying attention to all of their body.
C = Cuddling - There were many nights when MC and Cam were having a sleepover that Cam ended up half laying on MC. Cam loves to cuddle, and why not do that with your favorite person?
D = Dates - For Cam he would prefer something more laid back. While he would take MC out on the town if that is what they wanted, just having that one on one time is a plus in their book.
E = Emotions - They are known as our resident hot head for a reason. Cam can take a lot, he will bury it. (Looking at all those emotions he has pushed down for MC). If Cam feels someone is being rude or out of pocket just know he will do something about it. Even if it has nothing to do with him.
F = Family - For him, those people he considers famliy are the most important to him. Whether that is MC, or MC's aunt, even doggo. They matter to Cam. Now how that applies to his own siblings, you will just have to wait and see.
G = Gifts - He loves to give gifts, believes them to be little reminders of his appreciation. If you see the inside of Cam's room, you will see trinkets from many different points in his life. Things from his childhood, such as the first pebble MC gave him. To a stack of polaroids of Kara's first steps, to when he got the doggo for MC.
H = Holding Hands - He holds hands with such fervency. Afraid that if he lets go the person whose hand he was holding will cease to exist.
I = Injury - While Cam can handle pain thanks to growing up sick, he can't handle it when it has to do with people he cares about. When he saw MC's nose bleed (thanks Cam) he nearly fainted form the sight of blood. Just the idea of hurting someone gives him the ick. (unless that person is Chris.)
J = Jokes - Definitely a jokester, sometimes you just have to laugh to keep from crying. Sadly that is one of Cam's ideals. He will be sulking out of your view.
K = Kisses - Cam kisses with urgency, as if each one will be the last. Each one more dear than the one before.
L = Love - Cam has had love for people, platonically, and romantically. Though no love burns brighter or hurts as much as the one he has for his best friend. It's a love to never be given lightly or that expects anything in return.
M = Memory - He has many memories he holds dear, from the first word Kara spoke, to his first kiss. One of his favorite memories is prom, and when he headbutted Chris. (Okay that one yeah that one is top 5.)
N = Nightmare (what is one of their fears?) - One of his biggest fears is to be discarded. To be replaced and treated as if he never mattered at all. He can do without that.
O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?) - MC will see Cam just grab at his hair and faceplant on the table, the couch even his bed. MC has yet to find out why but they always hear Cam mumbling things under his breath.
P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)- Red.
Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) - Cam prefers to just hang out, relax. Talk about your shared past and what coul be your future. Watch really cringey shows. Share a pint of ice cream together. Help in any way he can. Also…laundry.
R = Rhythm (what song do they hum to themselves, when they think no one is listening.)- He will hum anything even if he doesn't know the lyrics, his current go to is Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Ray.
S = Secrets (how open are they?) - With others he's not open at all, with MC like an open book. (well except for one secret he keeps close). He will never intentionally tell MC's secrets, those are sacred to him.
T = Time (how do they spend their time?) - Pining. Doodling in a journal he keeps hidden in a drawer. Taking horrible candid photos of people. Cam also likes to read, there will always be a book dog eared in his camera bag.
U = Upset (how do they act when they're upset?) - Depends on how upset he is. While somethings he will bottle, other things will make him out swear a sailor. Cam gives it his all in a lot of things, especially when it comes to cussing someone out. Did they bump into MC, alright hes going to tell them their mother should have swallowed. Our boy is fiesty sometimes to a fault. But it's because he truly cares.
V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?) - Their accomplishments. While his parents don't recognize how good he is as a photographer, Cam is truly good at it. At capturing a moment or an idea just with photos. It's something he prouds himself on. If he sucks at everything else, at least he knows this is the one thing he can do.
W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?) - He has a scar on the back of his thigh from doing just that. Cam will fight for you, beside you. To him it doesn't matter. You just tell him where to throw that punch.
X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?) - Very well. There will be times when Cam can read MC better than he can himself. He won't always know when something is wrong or whats wrong, especially if your relationship changes. He will try his best to figure out whats wrong.
Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?) - I can't give all the details away, but it would depend. It's not that he wouldn't plan it, it's just likely that he would be so overcome with emotion that he just blurts it out.
Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?) - Someone touching their hand or a hug. He never really got them from his family so to him it's not only shocking when someone does it but its so comforting to him that he wishes it would never end.
88 notes · View notes
petersprincesss · 10 months
Text
Security Measures
Tumblr media
It’s been a long time since I wrote anything… but I decided IM BACK BABY!
It felt like it was time for some good old fashioned smut. I really went back to my roots with this one. I still personally prefer to refer to this character as Peter Ballard, and that’s gonna be his name in the fic. I apologize if that’s not your thing, but you don’t have to read it 🫶🏻
Genre: Porn with minimal plot
Rating: so crazy explicit lmao. Minors please leave 💞
Tags: dom!Peter, sub!female!, bdsm kinda?, edging, fingering, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dubcon? kinda?, choking, hitting, hair pulling… all that good stuff
As always, I appreciate any and all feedback. You know I love to hear you, baby 🙏🏻
Hawkins National Laboratory was going to be the biggest story in my journalism career. Like many children in this area of Indiana, I had grown up hearing all kinds of rumors, stories and conspiracies surrounding the mythic brick building in the woods.
Being a casual column writer for the Indianapolis Recorder gave me access to plenty of information, but most of it felt so mundane compared to what I might be able to uncover in the source of all my childhood nightmares. Through my boss, I was able to secure an interview with one Dr. Martin Brenner, the supposed mastermind behind the madness. The only question now was whether or not I would learn the truth.
Parked outside of the structure, it felt no different than those creepy campfire tales my friends and I had swapped in our youth. This time, however, I knew I was going to go inside. I was going to settle fact and fiction.
I smoothed out my smart pencil skirt and clutched my notepad and two pens close to my chest (I had to have two, just in case one ran out in the middle of the interview, but I had tested them both twice before leaving the house). My modest high heels clicked against the pavement before stopping at the tall glass front door. I took one final deep breath before pulling it open.
The lobby was beyond what I was expecting. Panels of sleek, dark wood lined the walls, and a kind-eyed brunette woman sat behind a mahogany desk with a warmly lit lamp set atop it.
“How can I help you?” She spoke, folding her fingers together and resting them on her appointment book.
“I have a two o’clock with Dr. Brenner,” I replied. I could feel my knuckles turning white around my notepad.
The young lady glanced down at her calendar before tapping twice on my name.
“You’re right on time. I’ll buzz you through the main doors. Go down the hallway and go through security. They’ll guide you from there.”
“Thank you so much,” I responded, already making my way around her desk towards a set of hospital-like doors. She pressed a button behind her desk, sending a buzzing ring throughout the lobby, followed by the click of the door’s lock. I swung it open and entered a lengthy hallway lined with sterile white tile.
Scents of various disinfectants stung my nose as I rushed down the corridor. My watch read twelve minutes before two, and I prayed whatever security measures I had to clear wouldn’t take long.
Around the hallway’s corner stood a second pair of doors with a metal detector and X-ray machine before them. A slender, blonde-haired man dressed in all white stood patiently with his hands clasped in front of his belt next to the machinery.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Dr. Brenner,” I sputtered, paying no mind to the orderly as I set my belongings on the conveyor belt into the X-ray.
“Just remove your shoes, jacket and anything in your pockets,” his gentle voice instructed me.
I followed his orders, sending each of my items into the machine before I stood tall in front of the metal detector. The spotlessly clean man mirrored my stance on the opposite side. Our eyes met for a second before he silently raised two fingers and motioned me towards him with them. I felt a sting of intimidation rush through me as he locked his eyes on me while I stepped forward. My heart skipped a beat when the metal detector beeped.
“It’s okay. Step out and try again,” he commanded, his eyes still motionless.
I did as I was told, stepping backwards and then forwards. The metallic chime rang out once more.
“Are you wearing any jewelry?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.
“None at all…” I trailed off, touching my earlobes, fingers and neck.
“…Any I can’t see?” He spoke softly.
My eyes shot up to his, half offended by the question, “No.”
“One last time, then. Raise your hands above your head this time.”
I repeated my action, raising my hands as instructed. As predicted, the machine buzzed again.
“I’m going to have to pat you down. We’ll step into the security office for some privacy, okay?”
“Excuse me?” I spat, feeling my eyebrows raise with my temper.
“You don’t have to,” he smiled kindly, “you can always leave.”
I wished in my heart that he was joking, but I could tell he was deathly serious.
“Fine,” I spat, shaking my head in disbelief.
“You can put your shoes back on,” the orderly spoke gently. He picked up my blazer and notepad for me as I slipped my feet back into my heels impatiently.
“Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.
“Right this way,” he gestured into an open door. I walked in before him, nervously kneading my knuckles.
He set my items on a sterile steel table and turned to face me as I glanced around the office. The walls were the same bland tile, nothing on them except for a clock, which read ten minutes before two.
“Please hurry, I don’t want to be late for my meeting,” I pleaded, feeling the rising urge to tap my heels.
“You won’t be, I promise,” a cheeky smile spoke, “I’m Peter by the way.”
“Great, nice to meet you Peter. Let’s go,” I hurried him, not bothering to introduce myself to the security guard orderly that I would never see again.
“Arms out, feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed. I obeyed yet again.
His palms clasped around the top of my right thigh and began to slowly pat inches at a time down my leg.
“You don’t have a female security guard to do this?” I huffed.
“I’m afraid not. The only women here are the nurse and the secretary,” Peter sighed. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the response.
Once down to my ankle, he raised his hands to check left leg, but the tip of his thumb grazed me where I was most sensitive, causing my breath to hitch. I prayed he hadn’t noticed as he worked his way further down.
“Nothing yet…” he reported once down to my foot.
A lightbulb went off in my head. My IUD. I had a copper birth control device in my cervix. Could that have set off the metal detector? Surely copper couldn’t trigger it. But what else could it possibly be? I knew that I genuinely had nothing, but how could I tell Peter that without proving it?
Peter began to pat down my right arm, from shoulder to wrist, before moving to my left.
“Listen, I swear I have nothing. I’m just a journalist…” I began to bargain.
“I actually do believe you, but it’s just laboratory protocol,” Peter grinned. His eyes shone a bright blue even in the dingy fluorescent lighting, and I felt a twinge of happiness that at least he was a gentleman.
“The metal detector indicated something at waist level, so I’ll need to examine there further. Again, you may leave at any time.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through my nose.
“Okay. Let’s get it over with.”
“I’m just going to slide two fingers into the waist band of your skirt, okay?” Peter informed more than he asked.
“Okay,” I nodded with a deep breath.
As he had narrated, his slender index and middle fingers from each hand slipped into the top of my skirt next to my hip bones, resting atop the hem. As I exhaled, the pressure on his knuckles decreased, the warmth of them abandoning the crisp caress of my blouse.
“Just going to slide them around to the back now,” he gently described his action. As promised, those slim fingers slithered around my hips towards my spine.
With his arms around my waist, I paused to glance at his sapphire eyes, preciously surveying his work. A breath left his lips and cascaded down my chest just as he lifted his touch from my body.
“All looks well, but I’m afraid that means I still have searching to do,” Peter sighed, clasping his hands in front of his belt buckle.
“This is ridiculous,” I fumed, “look, it must have been a fluke. I promise I just want to go to my interview and then leave.”
Peter’s doe-like eyes blinked innocently as I ranted.
“I believe you, miss, I really do. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision. You may either continue, or leave the facility,” his honeyed, overly calm voice stated.
“Fine. What next?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.
Peter cleared his throat as his eyes darted to the floor between us before responding, “I’ll need you to remove your skirt so I may assess what’s underneath.”
“Assess what’s underneath? What are you, a fucking cop?” I protested, my voice growing in volume with each syllable. Peter didn’t bat an eye.
“You’re welcome to leave at any time, but this is protocol,” he assured me, “I’ll turn away while you undress.”
I thought back to all the time I had spent dreaming about being able to interview Dr. Brenner. The countless nights of sleep I lost staring at my ceiling dreaming about what I would write and what questions I would ask. Was I really going to back out now? Could I just chalk this up to one of the things a girl has to do to fulfill a dream?
I silently nodded and Peter turned on his heels to face the door.
The parting of the zipper was the only noise in the uncomfortable silence. I shimmied my skirt off my hips, allowing it to pool around my ankles before picking it up and grasping it timidly at my waist. The cool, sterile air brushed across my bare backside, sending a wave of goosebumps up to my neck.
“Okay,” I spoke shakily.
The orderly turned back to me and immediately placed his hand on my skirt. I allowed him to take it, kneading my fingers anxiously with nothing left to protect my modesty.
Peter crouched curiously at eye-level with my panties. I felt like a common whore standing before the stranger in nothing but my undergarments and high heels. Of course, today was the day I had decided to wear garters instead of regular pantyhose, which only amplified my bashfulness.
“Could have been these,” he noted, slipping his index finger beneath one of the nude garter straps holding up my stocking, snapping one of the metallic clasps against my thigh.
I felt my heart rate increase dramatically beneath his touch. Blood rushed to my core, causing a noticeable temperature increase between my legs. The visual alone of golden blonde locks kneeling before me was enough to create a knot in my abdomen that grew harder and harder to ignore.
The orderly tsked and shook his head, “I think that’s too small of an amount of metal. It must be something else.”
My palms began to grow clammy as I debated telling him about my contraceptive. 

“Could there be something… inside you? A medical device, perhaps?” Peter asked, his eyes shooting up to mine from between my legs. I had to tell him now.
“Yes,” I spat out, feeling my stomach turn, “I have a copper birth control device.”
“I see…” he trailed off, shifting his gaze to the floor.
“That’s it. I know that’s all. I was just scared to tell you, I had this crazy idea that you would have to confirm it or something.” I blurted, vomiting my words all over him.
A silence grew between us, and Peter’s choice not to disprove my absurd theory became increasingly worrisome. Finally, he rose to his feet, returning to his polite stance with his hands held above his belt.
“I”m afraid that actually is the case,” Peter finally confessed.
My head fell back as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes imagining what exactly this process might look like. I glanced back at the clock on the wall. I had seven minutes left.
“You better be fucking fast,” I voiced sternly, turning back to those blue eyes.
“Not a problem. Remember, you may leave at any time,” he reassured me.
I nodded as he gestured towards a padded table lined with parchment-like paper, beckoning me to lay back across it. I relaxed back against it, closing my eyes as the orderly shuffled over and stood patiently next to the table.
“Would you like to remove your undergarments, or would you prefer I work around them?” He asked cordially, as if any of this process was anything less than crass.
“I’m in a hurry, just do what you have to do,” I instructed, closing my eyes and clasping my hands above my stomach.
His fingertips wasted no time snaking under my panties and pushing them aside. I exhaled slowly as his warm touch glided over my pussy.
“Breathe for me,” he guided. On my next inhale, he slipped a finger inside me.
Something between a pornographic moan and a wince escaped me, and I found myself biting my lip to prevent more from following it.
“You’re doing such a good job,” that silvery voice cooed.
A twinge of shame crawled from my stomach to my chest as I realized that I was already dripping wet from the interaction. Something about his maintained innocence -everything from his crisp white uniform to his “this is strictly protocol” attitude”- ignited a craving I didn’t know I had. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to make me miss my interview.
“Okay, I think I feel the string,” Peter remarked, shifting his body to give his arm a better angle.
I felt his finger begin to slide out of me when I jolted my eyes open and gripped his wrist assertively.
“Are you sure?” Was all I could managed to spit out.
I lessened my grasp on his wrist and relaxed slightly, “I mean. Are you positive? You don’t need more time?”
“I’m fairly certain, I mean…” he trailed off, clearly missing the memo.
“Peter,” I finally spoke his name, “I think you need to check more thoroughly.”
“Are you sure? You’re going to miss your interview…” those blue eyes batted at me, and suddenly I wasn’t the one feeling so bashful.
“Fuck my interview,” I moaned, guiding his middle finger up to join his index inside me.
“Oh my,” Peter’s voice dropped an octave and those precious blue eyes shifted infernal.
“Please?” I urged, shifting to allow him better access.
“I don’t know,” he falsely contemplated, sinking two fingers into my pussy as he spoke, “are you going to be good for me?”
I choked on a moan rising in my throat before closing my eyes and nodding rapidly. Peter clicked his tongue, uncertain of my answer. I squeezed my eyes tightly and allowed my chest to relax. The grim, florescent light suddenly felt warmer as his slender fingers thrust into me.
“Jesus,” he remarked, slowing his pace, “tightening up on me already, hmm?”
I whined a vague response, bucking my hips against him. Wordlessly, Peter grabbed my leg nearest to him and swung kit over his head so it rested atop his shoulder and stepped forward, forcing my back to arch to accommodate him. Whimpers flowed freely from me as he quickened his pace, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes to look down and take in the sight of his fingers sinking into me.
With his free hand, he reached up and snatched a fistful of hair at the crown of my head and jerked forward, “That’s right, watch my fingers fuck you.”
Whimpers fell into wanton moans, and Peter switched to using his middle and ring finger, curling devilishly where I needed him most.
“Shit, Peter, I’m going to c-“
Before I could even speak the words, the orderly removed his touch entirely from my pussy and released his grip on my hair. My leg slid off of his shoulder, hung carelessly off the edge of the table. Dumbfounded, my misty eyes searched for his. Peter stood motionless, watching me with no readable expression on his face.
Once I had managed to find my breath a little, he spoke, “Are you done?”
“What? No, I was about to and you-“
The back of Peter’s hand landed a heavy smack across my cheek as he leaned in close to whisper, “Are you done being a needy bitch?”
Holding my stinging cheek, I gazed up at him in erotic trepidation.
“Y-yes,” I whispered, not even convincing myself of my answer.
“Good,” he praised, creeping his hand back to my pussy, “let’s continue.”
My panties were pushed to the side once more, and my body lurched forward onto Peter’s fingers as they writhed back into me. He leaned over me, placing his free hand at the base of my neck and whispered in my ear, “I knew you were fucking dirty the second you walked around that corner.”
I felt myself grip him tighter as he accused me, enthralled with his whorish perception of me.
“Fuck, I’m so glad you had to search me, Peter,” I panted, squirming beneath him as his grip on my neck grew stronger.
A sinister chuckle crept from his throat, “I know, baby. Almost like it was meant to be, hmm?”
His question would have felt more ominous if the orgasm that I was fighting against wasn’t growing stronger by the second. I writhed beneath him harshly, now with the intention of staving myself off until Peter was ready. I spread my legs further for him, wrapping my right calf around his waist to give him direct access. My toes curled against the inside of my shoes as I struggled to pull him closer to me.
“Please, Peter, I can’t hold it back much longer,” I squealed, my vision blurring as I starred up at the bleak white ceiling tiles.
“What’s that? Are you begging me to let you cum?” Peter mocked, slowing his pace ever so slightly.
I nodded intently, feeling my chin brush against his knuckles.
“Almost. I know you can hold out just a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He positioned his face just inches from mine, tilting his chin up so he still looked down upon me. Appearing pathetic no longer mattered to me, I just wanted him to grant me release.
“Yes,” I told a half-truth. If he quickened his pace in the slightest, there would be no more waiting.
The stern grip on my throat vanished, his hand now working its way to the collar of my blouse. Without breaking eye contact, Peter effortlessly undid two of my buttons, leaving my sternum and the center of my bra exposed. Nimble fingers pushed the cup of my bra to the side, leaving half of my chest fully exposed. He traced around my nipple slowly at first, sending a shockwave sensation through my abdomen. As my pleasure peaked higher and higher, Peter’s lips swapped with his fingers, sucking teasingly at my flesh.
“Christ, I can’t- I have to-“ I stuttered between breaths.
“Go ahead. Let me hear you cum,” Peter permitted.
My leg’s grip on his waist doubled, and in my senseless passion, my hands clawed at his shoulders and across his back, finally releasing myself upon him. A stream of curses and lustful whimpers echoed through the overly-hygienic office, mixing flawlessly with Peter’s determined grunts as he pushed himself. Peter lifted his head from my chest as my climax began to fade, a bead of sweat falling from his furrowed brow to my sternum. His sapphire eyes bore into mine as the two of us panted back and forth.
“Taste yourself,” Peter commanded, sliding his fingers out of me and up to my tongue. I obliged, pleased at how his scent mingled with my taste. Pearly white teeth smiled approvingly at how eager I was to fill his request.
“I have a confession to make,” the orderly informed, bracing his weight on his palm, now resting next to my head.
“Yes?” I replied, slipping his fingers out of my mouth and holding them delicately between my own.
“I always set off the metal detector when pretty girls come through.”
161 notes · View notes