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azrielbrainrot · 11 days

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Loose Lips and Big Feelings

Band Member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Azriel gets a little drunk and you take care of him.

Warnings: Alcohol?

Word Count: 2320

Notes: This is a little short but very cute. As always, this is part of the band au but you can read it as a standalone. Also I decided the boys make early Arctic Monkeys type music because imagining Azriel singing 505 sounds delicious. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

The bar was already packed with drunk people by the time you arrived. It was so full you were surprised they even let you in, you had to take a deep breath, readying yourself before diving into the sea of people. Finding Azriel and his friends was going to be harder than you thought, you might have to text him again. The situation was somewhat nostalgic to the first time you set foot in this bar, the same night you met Azriel. It's amazing how much things have changed in a matter of months.

Someone was doing a cover of a song you recognized on stage, it almost made you want to hum along and enjoy it for a bit, but you needed to get to Azriel's table first. You couldn't really see the woman singing on stage aside from her striking ginger hair and blue dress, but her voice was truly amazing. You could definitely understand why everyone was so excited to see her. You'd have to ask Azriel if he knew her, maybe try to see one of her shows properly.

You hadn't actually planned on coming tonight, Azriel and the boys weren't even playing and you'd rather sleep away the week. In fact, an hour ago you had been sitting at your desk hoping to get enough progress on an essay so you could completely free up your Sunday to rest and lay in bed all day. But, when a mildly intoxicated Azriel texted you, asking you to meet up with him at the bar, you couldn't resist the offer.

It's not often he asks you outright to meet him, always so conscious of your hectic schedule and workload, even your recent aversion to social outings. So you couldn't really deny him the one time he actually did. You were also a bit curious to see what had him so excited, his happiness was extremely contagious, and admittedly a bit curious to see what he's like when he's drunk, if your intuition had been right then he was close to wasted when he sent you those texts littered with typos.

He had told you that they were sitting at the table by the big red poster, you were pretty sure you knew which one he meant, but unfortunately it was close to the stage which means it would be difficult to get to it while the performance was happening. You were caught between excuse me’s and apologies when you finally caught sight of familiar broad shoulders and luscious tied back hair.

Even when they're not on stage, they're hard to miss. Cassian is at least a head taller than the crowd, so even when he's sitting down you can always count on finding him. He's the first one to notice you as well, greeting you with a shout of your name, somehow audible over the music, and a big grin, as you keep trying to gently push your way through the crowd to get to them.

You find the three of them tucked into the sofas by the table Azriel told you about. Apparently being one of the performing bands gave you access to the best seats in the bar, you always got stuck with the regular chairs. As you get closer to the table you notice Morrigan and another girl you haven't met before were also present.

“You came,” Morrigan yelled excitedly as soon as you got up to the table. It seems they're all drinking tonight, the table is full of grins and flushed cheeks.

“I did,” you chuckle at the overenthusiastic greetings from everyone at the table. A familiar scarred hand reaches out for yours immediately, tugging on it so you would sit down next to him. It's not missed on you the eyebrows the gesture raises, you've learned that he's not always forthcoming with letting people touch or hold his hands so you're sure they didn't really expect him to do it so easily. They probably didn't know Azriel told you everything either.

The sofas were small so it was a tight fit as you sat down right next to him, having no other option but let your leg comfortably rest on his, the feeling of his rough jeans on your bare skin making you giddy for some reason. His arm comes around your waist straight away so his hand settles on the side of your thigh, pulling you even closer into him.

The gesture makes you look up at him, his face a lot closer than you expected, you could feel his breath hit your skin and if you moved even an inch closer your nose would bump against his. The smile he gives you almost takes your breath away as you let out a soft greeting, “Hi.” You're surprised he even heard you, if you weren't so close to each other he wouldn't have been able to over the music, but he throws the same word back at you, in the same whispered tone you used, as his smile widens, eyes not making any effort to leave yours.

“So this is Azriel's friend,” the girl you haven't met before says, with a tone that suggests she's heard a lot about you. The thought of Azriel or any of the boys telling anyone about you has your heart skipping a beat. Her voice also cuts through the spell you and Azriel seemed to be locked in, finally breaking eye contact with him so you can answer her. But, as you look back to the table, you become more than aware that everyone just witnessed your little moment and the smirks on their faces make it hard to play it off.

“This is Amren. She's our manager,” Rhysand explains before you have to ask, a shit eating grin growing on his face as he takes in the flushed state of yours.

“Nice to meet you,” you try to keep your voice leveled but even to your ears it sounds breathless. You swallow softly and try to move the conversation along as Azriel starts rubbing small circles over your skirt, “You didn't tell me why you're celebrating.”

“Rita just told us she's doubling our performances at the bar,” Azriel explains, a little slur noticeable in his voice.

“Really?” You turn back to him as he nods again with a big grin on his face. He looked really excited to share the news with you.

“She's giving us a raise too,” Cass adds, and then looks back at his mostly empty cup and then at your empty hand, “We need to get you a drink.” You stop him before he can get up. “I think I'll be the responsible one tonight and stay sober.” The disappointed reactions around the table make you laugh but also accept that you'd be the babysitter tonight, they were all bordering on wasted already.

As the night went on, everyone only got progressively drunker. It seems like since they can't usually drink too much when they have to perform, they took the opportunity that everyone was here to party as much as they could. Even Azriel, who you never really saw drinking, was talking and laughing like you've never really seen him. He's more of a quiet guy most of the time, preferring to listen rather than entertain. It was nice to see him let loose a little.

The bar was getting quieter since the performance had ended a while ago and the big majority of the attendees started filtering out shortly after. The only people that were still around were ones that were as drunk as your present company. You didn't really mind being sober though, Cassian had brought you some sort of juice so you had something to sip on, and as loud as they were, they were easy drunks to deal with.

Amren had left right after the performance ended with a warning not to stay up too late since they had practice tomorrow. You got the sense she wasn't too much of a crowded bar person but she seemed nice enough. After that everyone else seemed to leave one by one, you tried to keep track of them, not wanting them to end up in trouble as drunk as they were, but as you saw Morrigan making out with a pretty girl with long black hair on the dancefloor your worry subsided.

This also left you alone with Azriel, who has been a lot more talkative and touchy than he usually is. At this exact moment, he was telling you a story, that you lost track of about halfway in, and holding one of your hands in between his, as he played with your fingers, twisting and turning the rings you were wearing. He has also not made any move to sit away from you even though you were the only remaining people at the table, your leg really didn't need to be thrown over his. Azriel was a clingy drunk and your cheeks hurt from smiling at the realization.

You were pondering on how to stop him so you could take him home. It was getting really late and you've already gotten almost unreadable texts from everyone saying they left. He had also told you he had work today so he has to be exhausted. But you didn't have the heart as you watched him excitedly continue on with his story.

At some point, he notices you weren't really following along and just stops, tilting his head to the side slightly. Your smile only widens at the sight. “What?”

“You're cute when you're drunk,” you admit.

“I think you're cute all the time,” he retorts without missing a beat, making your face heat up.

You always had a hard time telling yourself to keep your feelings for him platonic, but between the boyish smile, the flirtatious comments and the lingering touches, it was getting close to impossible to achieve today. “And flirty,” you struggle out.

“Only with you.” Cauldron. You really needed to get him to sober up and take him home.

You get up to do just that and within ten minutes, you're out of the bar and waiting for an uber by the same empty parking lot you usually find yourself in when you come out. He's also a pretty obedient drunk it seems. All you had to do was grab his hand and he looked like he was ready to follow you anywhere your heart desired. You were so glad you chose not to drink because your heart was definitely giving you ideas and your brain was the only thing stopping you.

Azriel was still holding onto your hand and you honestly had no intention of letting go of him. You couldn't really take your eyes off him. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed, the low lights of the bar hasn't let you really take in the sight. Some of his hair was sticking to his forehead and that same boyish smile hasn't left his face all night. No one should be allowed to look this good when they're drunk.

“Remember when we met here?” His words were starting to sound a bit clearer, maybe the cold air was helping him sober up a little or he was just getting tired. You think he told you he had work today and it was already late.

“Of course. It only happened a few months ago.”

“Feels like I've known you my whole life,” he says as he looks down at your linked hands, running his thumb softly over your skin.

“We didn't meet here though,” your voice seems to bring him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours, “You gave me back my keys when we were still inside.”

His smile turned a little shy at that. “I'm not sure that counts. I was running late and barely said anything,” he says rubbing the back of his neck, “I was beating myself up over it the whole show.”

“I…” you hesitate for a moment, unsure if he'll remember anything come morning. unsure if you'd want him to, “I was having a really bad day when we met, didn't even really want to come out, but I'm really glad I did, even though I got a massive headache out of it. If I hadn't come I wouldn't have met you. And I can't really imagine my life without you now.”

You tighten your hold on his hand and use it to pull him a little closer to you, close enough that you have to crane your neck back to be able to keep looking up into his eyes. “I think you came into my life at the perfect time, Azriel,” you smile up at him.

The emotion that crosses his face is so overbearing it's impossible to miss or confuse for anything else than adoration and… something more, something you've been trying to ignore for far too long. Gods, you really wish he was sober.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek softly, rubbing his thumb over your warm skin. “I think so too, princess,” he whispers, looking at you like he can't believe you're real. You've noticed the nickname only comes out when it's just the two of you and at times like this, when it seems he doesn't even realize he's said it, like he's been holding himself back from doing it regularly.

You could have stayed here, looking up at his beautiful hazel eyes all night, but it doesn't take long for a black car to come to a stop a few feet away from you, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts. You almost forgot you were still outside the bar, still needed to take this big drunk bat home. Taking a step back, you tug on his hand once again, so he can follow you to the car. “Come on, Azzie. We need to get you home.”

taglist: @bookishbroadwaybish @sad-anxious-muffin @mika-no-sekai-blog @starwholistenanddreamsanswered @secretlyhers @evergreenlark @vermillionwinter @anuttellaa @lilah-asteria @tinymarklee @lupinswolfsbanes @therealmoonstone

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel fluff

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neviagreatestart2003 · 20 days

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BWW 15 Inhabitants in Multiverse AU. (1/15)

Chapter 1: Jose Gallard

#balan wonderworld #balan wonderworld oc #regular show #regular show oc #multiverse au #universe #12 Inhabitants #jose gallard #poster #crossover #digital art #art

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trulyhblue · 3 months

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Armband

Niamh Charles x Chelsea! Canadian! Reader

Warnings: fluff, cocky! Niamhy, suggestive.

Masterlist

__________________

You were quite new to the team, only joining the Blue’s side in July, but it felt like you had known Niamh for a lifetime.

You were Canadian, but you grew up in Manchester with your parents, playing in the City Academy before playing professionally for them until your move to London. Because of this, you knew Jessie and Ashleigh well. You grew up playing alongside Jessie at the National Camps, debuting for the Senior team in the same year. Winning the Olympics was a dream come true, especially with girls you have known since you were little.

Manchester City was a dream worth chasing. You were friends with Lauren Hemp, Ella Toone — before and during her move to United — and all the rest. When you found Chelsea interested in you, it was undeniably difficult to say no. While you had grown up in the North, the move down was something that ignited a certain thrill within you.

You met Niamh at your first training session. Jessie had been partnered with you for drills, and you were in the middle of introducing yourself to Guro when the brunette came barrelling in. Her flyaways were barren across her face, cheeks nipped red from the cold weather. Her hands stuffed in her pockets, she nearly tripped you to the ground at the speed at which she ran towards you. You had known her from previous matches against her, both for Canada and City, but something about being on the same team with her felt distinct. Sure, you had admired her beforehand, but it was different now.

“Jeez, Charles, give her some room, will you?” Guro scoffed, playfully pushing the girl back a bit. You watched as she nipped the inside of her cheek, looking at you so intently that you struggled to keep eye contact.

Niamh held out her hand, grabbing yours and shaking it. You could hear Jessie giggling from behind you. “My name’s Niamh.” She announced, continuing to shake your hand. “I’m Niamh.”

Her nervous state was apparent, and Guro was in a fit of laughter at the interaction she was watching.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You replied, hoping your dismissal of her apprehension would cool the flames in both your cheeks. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you.” She gulped, obviously baffled at what to say.

You couldn't help but smile, nodding. “Erm, yes, you too.”

“Fuck, let go of her hand, Charles, you're ‘gonna tear it off.” A voice called from behind. You turned to find the Australian Captain trampling over, slinging a welcoming arm over your shoulder. Her laid-back persona made it easier for introductions. Unlike Niamh, who was a worrying mess in front of you.

“Right, sorry.” The English woman muttered, tearing her hand away and shoving right back in her pocket. Her cheeks seared with an even deeper embarrassment, and you shook off the motion with a tight-lipped smile.

“You’re alright, really.” You smiled, hoping the reassurance consolidated the girl.

It must've, since Niamh gave you a wide smile back, shuffling by your side ever since.

All of the Chelsea girls were lovely. You had no problem fitting into the Grove there. After a few weeks of making scare appearances as a super sub, you became a regular starter for the Blues. Your presence on the field was noticeable, and fans reeled at how you brought more opportunities down the field and into the back of the net.

“Would you be able to give this to Niamh for me, please?” One fan said after a game, handing two matching friendship bracelets with your names on one of them each. Erin was beside you, signing off the posters, when she caught a glimpse of them. Without a second thought, she waved over Niamh, who wasted no time in sprinting towards you.

“Hello.” She spoke, trying hard to discreetly slip her arm around your waist. You leaned into her side, showing her the two bracelets.

“Look how cute.” You smiled, ignoring the way some fans had started recording. You slipped a hand into Niamh’s jacket pocket, holding out the present with your other hand.

Niamh picked up the one with your name on it, slipping it on her wrist and displaying it to the little girl who had made it. “Very cute. I wish we could wear them during games.”

Subconsciously, you put yours (Niamh’s) one on too. The two of you were pretty much hugging at this point. The wind had sent chills through you, your kit doing little to warm you up.

The two of you took a photo with the fan before calling it a day and trudging off back to the changing rooms. You shivered as the wind picked up, holding your arms over your chest tightly as you tried to fight the cold.

Without much thought, Niamh shrugged off her jacket, hauling it around your figure and zipping it up for you.

When you got back to your apartment, engulfing the comfort of your bed after a hard-fought game, you opened up your phone to find hundreds of people tagging your account. You managed to click on the video, smiling to yourself at the sight of you and Niamh huddled together, talking to the little girl with bracelets adorned on your wrists. You clicked on another image, this time a photo, of you blanketed in Niamh’s jumper, your arm wrapped around her waist with one of her’s around your shoulder. The photo was everywhere on social media, including the Chelsea Account.

After a couple more months, you ended up extending your contract until the end of 2027 by Christmas. You loved it there. Your friendship with the team had grown all the more closer. You felt a sense of home and solidarity that you had never felt before.

Your relationship with the team was selfless. Jessie and you had never been closer. Sam and Millie had taken you under their wing, calling you the baby of the group, since you were the shortest between you, them, Guro, Niamh, Erin, and Jessie. Fans had taken a ripe liking to you all over social media. But not just you by yourself, but with a certain brunette in your wake.

You and Niamh had grown very close over the time you spent in London. She wasn't as shy as she made herself out to be when you first met. She was cunning, confident, funny, and easy to be around in any environment. All of your teammates teased the living daylights out of the two of you, especially Niamh, who didn't waste a second in making sure you were always okay.

She would check on you when you went quiet. She always ran to you for partner work during drills, after goals, and when the full-time whistle would blow. The two of you had a habit of huddling together in any setting, holding each other’s hands or waist, cuddling their side or touching you in some way.

Everything you did with each other was full of love and adoration. It was only you two that didn't see your friendship blossom into a relationship. You weren't daft, you knew the speculations surrounding what the two of you were. There was no denying the physical acclimation you had around each other. Hell, Sam sent at least two memes a day about how whenever you were seen together, you were always touching each other.

Over Christmas, Niamh asked you out. She was a nervous wreck, which reminded you all too well of when you first met her. It was after a game, in the changing rooms. She had been given a bouquet of flowers by a group of fans, who told her to ask you out with them. She was reluctant, not only because she didn't want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured by the media to say yes, but the mere fact of ruining the relationship you already had with each other made her hesitant enough.

Of course, you said yes. It was a no-brainer, and after a few more dates you were officially together. It wasn't any more public than before. Only your close friends knew, but the public was already quite content with the PDA you already showed each other before you were dating. The only thing they needed was confirmation, but Niamh and you were happy to keep in vague.

After you said yes, the two of you became inseparable, both on and off the pitch. Niamh ended up extending her contract as well, and the chemistry you built made for an unstoppable case on the field. By the time the season came back after the break, you had moved in together. The happiness both of you felt was indescribable.

Today, Chelsea was up against Manchester United, your old rival team. Ella Toone was one of your childhood friends and was who you were marking. Not only was ManU a competitive, difficult team, but it was a team you were familiar with. They were always pushing in the midfield and up against the forwards. Their chances during set pieces were worrying to any defensive back line. With the combination of Mary Earps and a sophisticated midfield variation, you knew that you were in for a ride.

When Sam did her ACL, people started to underestimate Chelsea’s shot at winning the league. Everyone was starting to wonder whether the Blues were even contestable for the semis. After a poor attempt last week against West Ham for the FA Cup, you were adamant about proving yourself to the people who were doubting your ability to win. You were a midfielder, and while you had masterclasses in the centre field, your stats didn't excel in goals. You had many assists, but never many goals.

You were tying your laces when you felt your girlfriend's arms curl around your waist. You were leaning against your cubby, back facing Niamh. You were slightly bent as your finished the knot in your shoe, feeling the women behind you grasp your hips with a slight squeeze.

“You ready to smash it today, baby?” She muttered, her lips shadowing your ear, sending shivers down your body. You held composure well enough, straightening up and letting her wrap her arms over your abdomen.

“Mh, bit nervous, but yeah.” You replied, relishing Niamh’s pattern of breath. “How ‘bout you?”

Niamh pulled your body to face in front of her, your back now flushed against the wall. You managed to make eye contact with her dilated pupils, feeling one of her hands make their to the back of your neck.

Before she spoke, your eyes filtered down to the fabric that wrapped around her arm, the word ‘Captain’ sprawled across the armband. Niamh watched the way your eyes widened, and how you bit your bottom lip at the sight. Niamh smirked in response, pressing her front into yours so that most of your body was hidden to the rest of the room.

“What's the matter, baby?” She gloated, rubbing a hand up your side. Your cheeks flushed when she refused to break eye contact, holding tranquillity at the sight of your girlfriend as captain. It was a sight you weren't used to, but it was something you couldn't get enough of.

“Nothing. I'm— we should go line up in the tunnel.” Your breath hitched. Niamh was staring down at you while groping your waist.

Neither of you said anything until you were out on the field. You could hear the crowd cheering in anticipation. You shook your opponents’ hands aimlessly, your mind sauntering on the previous sight of your girlfriend.

“Earth to Y/N, hello?” Jessie’s voice snapped you out of your trance. She must've watched you wander to your position in a haze, since she was smirking knowingly at your flushed cheeks. Erin came up behind the two of you, laughing when she caught a glimpse of your state.

“She looks like she's already played the ninety minutes.” The Scottish woman quipped, bringing her hands up to play with your cheeks. You pushed her off playfully, gushing at the ground. “Shut up, you two.”

“God, if this is your reaction to Niamh in an armband, I wonder what Niamh would do if she saw you.”

“Go away, you pricks.” You snapped, flanking them away with your hands, trying to cool your cheeks before the game.

After the team photo, you ran back to your position, jumping up and down as the whistle blew.

The game was inevitably tough, but something had ignited inside of you at the sight of your girlfriend. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you were running up and down the pitch with the one endeavour to make your girlfriend watch you.

Chelsea was controlling the game for the most part, and it didn't take long for Guro to find you inside the box.

The crowd erupted in cheers, your teammates sprinting over to where you stood starstruck. This was one of the scarce amount of goals you had scored that season.

As you were making your way back to the middle, you felt a familiar figure creep up behind you with her hands soothing the tension in your shoulders.

“Making me so proud today, aren't you, baby?” Niamh whispered, running back to her spot in defence before you could reply.

The first half ended as quickly as it started. United had sent a flyer into the back of the net just before the whistle blew. You avoided Niamh like the plague in the changing rooms, knowing you would cave to her touch as soon as she laid hands on you. In any other circumstance, it was you who would tease, but it always ended with Niamh taking over. The two of you were strict in keeping your private life and career separate, but no one seemed to mind your change of game when Niamh was Captain.

You were having an absolute masterclass of a game by the sixtieth minute, scoring your second goal on seven minutes in. Chelsea was now up two-one, and Man U were starting to bring on subs after a close set piece that almost led to a goal.

You made a break down the wing after Lauren sent a cross-over to the field. You sprinted down the line, trying to find a way into the middle. United were tight in keeping you out, and by the time you had made it down the line, attempting to pass it to one of your teammates, you felt a pair of boots collide with your own, sending you face-first fo the floor.

The ball was long forgotten by the ref, who blew the whistle immediately, medics were sent over. While your muscles started to strain at the energy of the game, you didn't feel instantaneous pain from the fall.

You were rolling onto your back, wincing as you got up, when you first heard your girlfriend’s voice boom over the hustle of the crowd.

“Are you alright there, Zelem?!” She scoffed. You watched a smug Katie Zelem trampling off from where you sat. She didn't look like she meant the tackle, but the heat of the game left her feeling less apologetic than usual.

“Oh, let it go, Charles.” Zelem clapped back, walking towards Ella and Millie, who were tense at the sight of Niamh’s uncommon anger. “She's fine.”

“I don't think you understand.” Niamh marched towards her, grabbing the girl’s jersey, and forcing Katie to face her. “You get the fuck off her and the rest of my players. Don't be salty cause we’re winning.”

Katie rolled her eyes at that. “Don't be salty cause your girlfriend can't handle a tackle.”

Erin and Jessie were surrounding Niamh moments later, dragging her away from the United mob and towards you.

The medics have already cleared you to keep playing, and you were already up and ready to go by the time your girlfriends grabbed your hand.

“Are you sure you're okay?” She asked, taking in your flustered appearance. What she didn't know was that you were overwhelmed at the way Niamh looked just then, not by the absolute mouthful of grass you just inhaled.

You could only muster a nod, squeezing your girlfriend’s hand once before slipping away from her touch. You were now hungry for not only Niamh but that third goal. You wanted to prove yourself to everyone that you could do it.

And so you did.

It was a Chelsea corner, and you made the run from outside the box near the open post, where no one had thought to mark. You jumped as high as you could, feeling the ball hit your head in the right direction. You fell to the ground before you knew where the ball was going, letting the movement and relief of the crowd pull you to your feet. You ran to the corner of the field, taking in the shouts and cheers of the crowd and letting your teammates engulf you from behind. The weight of everyone sent you down as more and more girls piled on top of you.

This was your first hat trick ever at Chelsea, and you were relishing the feeling of the euphoria for the rest of the game.

When the final whistle blew, you nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Everything you wanted to go right in the game went right. You were reeling at the win, looking across the field for a particular someone.

“Guess I know what to do to make you score some goals.” Niamh chuckled, grabbing your waist and lifting you into a spinning hug. You gripped onto her and giggled, letting her twirl you around.

“Thanks, Niamhy.” You smiled, gazing up at your girlfriend’s proud eyes. “You looked so good today, baby.”

“You think so?” She asked, though both of you knew she was just egging you on.

“Mhm. Looked so good.”

“You always look good, my stargirl.” The taller girl grinned, looking down at you slyly. Her lips met your ear, her voice sending chills down your spine. “But I guess I’ll need to reward you for doing so well. Show you how good you were for me.”

You didn't get to respond, feeling Jessie pull you away with the Player of the Match trophy shoved into your chest.

You knew you’d see her soon… you were looking forward to it.

niamhcharles

niamhcharles — she scores more when I am Captain.

Tagged: Yourusername

Comments:

samanthakerr — yeah the girls 🙌🏼

*liked by yourusername, niamhcharles

User8 — they will never beat the dating allegations

^ user10 — at this point they are embracing it

guroreiten — she always score goals, Charles 🙄

^ niamhcharles — READ THE CAPTION

^ guroreiten — I DID

^ niamhcharles — i said she scores “more” goals

^ guroreiten — oh, okay.

^ user1 — LMAO

yourusername — always complimenting me 😍

^ erincuthburt — too much apparently… as if she didn't do it enough in the Change Rooms

^ niamhcharles — i did it more when we got home

^ erincuthburt — youre blocked.

User22 — they are so pookie together

^ user76 — omg yes

jflem_ — that armband ignited something within her

^ yourusername — EXCUSE ME?????

^ user2 — LMAO JESSIE

^ user3 — don't expose her like that 💀

^ yourusername — Ikr 😖

erincuthburt — Niamh needs to be in that armband more often 😂

^ yourusername — maybe I just had a good game?!?!

^ erincuthburt — we all have our superstitions

^ user6 — LMAO ERIN IM CRYING

User78 — If you look closely I’m jumping off the bridge

^ user90 — mood.

User67 — okay but when Niamh protected Y/N at the Man U game!? 😋😋😋 wishing I was Y/N right now.

laurenhemp — where were those hat tricks at City, Y/N???

^ yourusername — you stole them all

yourusername — can a girl just score a hat-trick because shes good? 😖😖😖

^ niamhcharles — you did it all by yourself 🫶🏼

^ yoursusername — thx niamhy 🥰

^ guroreiten — suck up

^ samanthakerr — suck up

^ milliebright — suck up

^ niamhcharles — a proud suck up x

^ jflem_ — 🤢

^ niamhcharles — ok bye.

user7 — THIS IS SO CUTE BYE

_________________________

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ranilla-bean · 6 months

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culture tips for writing asian settings: calligraphy (pt ii)

in my last post i talked about calligraphy more generally, but here i want to talk about the calligraphy from atla. all of the calligraphy from the show is written by dr siu-leung lee and i'll be using the artbook as my reference.

if you're a writer or artist approaching written chinese, you can think about how script and handwriting might tell us something about a character. dr lee certainly did, and he even tailored writing styles to who he thought might've been writing that text: "If it were a highly cultured royal attendant, he would use a refined, elegant style, but if it were a low-level clerk, he would use a more pedestrian handwriting style."

first thing: modern standard chinese coming out of mainland china uses simplified chinese. this system was developed in the mid-20th century, so it's pretty anachronistic to use this for atla. instead, you should be using traditional chinese as dr lee does (which is still used in hong kong, taiwan, and many diasporic communities). i usually use google translate to switch between the systems.

note the use of simplified 门 (door) instead of the traditional 門 from the aang's unfreezing day comic.

next i'm going to take aang's wanted poster as an example of three different chinese scripts we see in the show. the "title" is in clerical script, the body of the text is in regular script, and the seal is in seal script.

regular script is the standard way you'd learn how to write chinese nowadays. you can see (as i mentioned in part i) how the text is meant to be read up -> down, then right -> left.

clerical script is characterised by fairly compact shapes and a kind of "roundness", and was developed in the late warring states period. this is the script used for the chinese title of the show! in the context of atla, it implies to me that the writer has more specialised calligraphic training than the average person (who, if they can write, would be using regular script). you can compare the difference in styles for the same words between clerical (L) and regular (R):

seal script is the most archaic form of chinese on display; this one wouldn't have been written by the calligrapher, but carved into a seal by a craftsperson and then stamped onto the page.

what's also really interesting is dr lee implies a difference in script between the nations. some of the characters used to write water tribe-related concepts:

this is an adapted form of oracle bone script, the one of the earliest forms of chinese writing. this fascinated me because this script was—as the name suggests—written on bone, and perhaps reflects something about the material of what the water tribes were using to write. (you can input modern characters into this website to see examples of their older forms.)

finally, some cool differences in handwriting! this is from the fire day festival poster:

this uses regular script, but in contrast to the excerpt we saw before, the formation of the characters is more haphazard (excitable?). it's also written left -> right! this suggests to us the writer is a commoner, as opposed to a royal scribe.

these are some things you can keep in mind when you're writing or drawing in this universe—while you're probably writing in english, the characters would be steeped in the writing systems we've been talking about. if a character's sending a letter, what might the recipient notice about the handwriting? what does it tell them about their social status or education? could the shape of the letters signal something about where they come from, i.e. water tribe characters write a more curvy script?

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#atla #atla culture #atla meta #avatar the last airbender #piandao #asian culture tips #chinese culture

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beskarandblasters · 5 months

Text

Good Girls Are Quiet

aka riding the hilt of Din’s vibro-blade like there’s no tomorrow

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: I just want to preface this by saying this is filthy. That is all.

Summary: At the Outlander Club on Coruscant, you try to help Din capture a bounty. But when the bounty makes a move what on belongs to Din, that just won’t do. Din takes you a sleazy motel after and shows you just who you belong to.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), takes place when Din is an apostate, bounty gets handsy with you, possessive!Din, light canon typical violence, brat taming, reader gets “punished”, rough oral sex (M receiving), slapping, cum eating, nipple play, knife kink, riding the hilt of Din’s vibro-blade, daddy kink, helmet comes off, spitting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of Mando’a words (cyar’ika = sweetheart), pet names (good girl), no use of y/n

The loud music in the Outlander Club vibrates your entire body, and the smoke hanging in the air fills your lungs. Kriff, this sucks. But it was your idea to help Din distract this bounty. You’re wearing a scantily clad dress, moving through the crowd, and scanning the room for your target; a human male named Colo. You took a good look at his bounty poster before heading inside the club but you’re still going to have to be vigilant. This place is packed and he could easily slip away without you or Din noticing.

Din’s hanging out off towards the wall to not draw too much attention to himself. He tends to do that everywhere he goes so that’s why you offered to help. And just as your eyes land on the bar, you spot Colo, sitting alone and sipping on revnog.

Now you can set your plan into motion. It’s time to flirt.

You walk up beside him, resting an elbow on the bar and looking around with wide eyes like you’re lost or something. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and turns towards you.

“You come here often?” he asks, mouth curling into a smirk.

“No,” you say, making your voice a higher pitch, “What about you?”

“I’m a regular, baby. How about I buy you a drink and show you what’s good?

“I think I have an idea about what’s good here,” you wink, internally cringing at yourself.

Maker, please be over soon.

“Oh, really?” he says, picking up what you’re unfortunately putting down.

He leans forward and rests his hand on your hip, slowly inching towards your ass and squeezing it.

“How about you tell me what that is?”

You open your mouth to respond but before you can, Colo is against the bar with Din pressing his vibro-blade against his neck. It all happened in a blur. The second the hand cupped your ass Din was on the move.

“Hands off,” he growls.

But before the fight progresses any further the bartender shouts, “Take that outside! Now!”

You’re frozen, unsure of what to do next until Din grabs your hand and physically drags you out of there. You still can’t grasp how fast all of that happened, keeping your eyes averted to the floor to avoid the stares of the club-goers before stepping outside.

And now here you are, silently walking the streets of the lower levels. You know Din is fuming underneath his helmet but… What does he have to be mad at you for? You were just trying to help.

“Din?” you say softly, looking up at him. The neon lights reflect off his armor and you can’t deny he looks sexy right now, especially when he’s mad. You looove to get under his skin even more. You know he likes it when you act like a brat. He can deny it all he wants but you know it’s true.

He doesn’t answer you so you continue.

“I don’t get why you’re mad. I was just trying to help,” you say matter-of-factly, folding your arms and pushing your breasts together. They threaten to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress. And that’s when he can’t take it anymore. He grabs your hand again and drags you down the street, but he’s going in the opposite direction of the docking yard where the Razor Crest is parked.

“Where are we going?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder at the direction you should be going.

“To teach you a lesson,” he growls, stopping at what looks like a motel, a sleazy one at that. The neon sign is broken, only a few letters lit and one of them flickering. You can’t even read what it says. He pulls you by the hand inside, and the interior is even more abysmal than the exterior. Seedy characters lurk in the shadows of the lobby, staring at you and Din while he drags you to the front desk. You’re so stunned by his actions. Din never does stuff like this. He prefers to sleep in the comfort of the Crest where he’s in control of his surroundings. Not left at the mercy of whatever goes on at night in this sleazy motel.

You don’t question it when he gets a room for tonight, anxious to see where the night takes you.

“Room one hundred and three. Down the hallway on your right.”

He takes the room key from the front desk worker and heads down the hallway, the lights flickering above you. He stops at a door, unlocks it, and shoves you inside. As soon as the door is closed he presses you up against it, bringing his helmet by your ear.

“Do you know why you need to be punished?” he growls, a hand sliding up your waist.

“...No.”

“Really?” he says with a low chuckle, “Maybe I need to help you remember.”

He grabs you by the waist and drags you over to the bed, setting you down on the edge. He stands in front of you, the bulge in his flight suit directly in your face. He grabs your chin, angles your face up towards his visor, and says, “Now, cyar’ika. Tell me why you’re getting punished.”

You try to look at the bulge that’s so close to your face by moving your head slightly. But he grips your chin tighter and teases you, “Nope. Eyes up here, slut.”

“For… for flirting with that guy at the club.”

“That’s right. I think you need to be reminded about who you belong to.”

You gulp and the hand not holding your chin pulls his cock free from his flight suit.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” he says, pulling you towards his groin. You open your mouth wide and keep your tongue flat, taking his length in your mouth. He thrusts back into you, forcing his cock down your through as far as it’ll go. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes but you keep going, trying your best to be a good girl for him. His hands move to either side of your face as you bob your head up and down.

You look up at him and his visor is fixed on you, watching his cock moving in and out of your mouth.

“You like sucking daddy’s cock?” he says, slapping you across the face.

You moan in response, sending vibrations down his length. He curses under his breath and slams into you harder. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore he cums down the back of your throat, holding your head flush against his groin.

“Take all of daddy’s cum like a good girl,” he commands, wiping away a tear on your cheek.

He finally releases your head and you catch your breath. Wiping away the cum leaking from your lips you ask, “My turn?”

“Not quite,” he teases, reaching forward and pulling the comforter off the bed. You watch as he grabs his vibro-blade from his boot, activating it and plunging it through the mattress. You let out a gasp, in shock that he just ruined this motel’s mattress.

“Din, what did you-”

“You can sit on that,” he says sternly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You look at the blade vibrating inside the mattress and gulp before stripping your clothes and getting on the bed. You straddle the hilt of the vibro-blade, hovering over it. He moves behind you, reaching forward and cupping his hand under your mouth.

“Spit,” he commands.

You do as you’re told, spitting into the palm of the glove. He rubs your saliva on the hilt, lubricating it for you to sit on. You take a deep breath and lower yourself on it, feeling the vibrations throughout your core.

“Fuck yourself on it,” he says, hand returning to your chin.

You rock your hips back and forth, just as Din’s other hand caresses the outline of your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingertips eliciting a loud moan from you. The hand on your chin clamps down on your mouth.

“Good girls are quiet,” he reminds you.

You nod and let out a soft whimper, continue to fuck yourself on the hilt.

“You have to cum on this first. Show me you’re worthy of daddy’s cock,” he continues, growling directly in your ear. He releases your mouth to take off his helmet and set it on the bed. He grabs your chin and angles your head up to face him. You catch a glimpse of him, his curls matted and his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. There’s a truly dark and primal look in his eye, watching as you writhe against him.

“Open,” he commands.

You open wide and stick your tongue out, just as he spits directly into your mouth. Just for him to clamp it shut again and return his hand over it, making you stay quiet.

With one last grind of your hips, the hilt is buried even deeper into you, and you can’t hold on any longer. You whimper against his gloved hand, trying to signal you’re gonna cum soon. You’re worried that if you don’t ask for permission somehow he’ll deny you your release.

“Gonna cum?” he says, amusement in his voice.

You whimper some more and nod incessantly.

“Soak it.”

You cum around the hilt, your walls fluttering around the vibrating metal. You feel your wetness seep out of you, running down your thighs and onto the sheets.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, slowly releasing your nipple from his fingertips. He removes his hand from your mouth and pushes you forward so you’re on your hands and knees. The hilt slips out of you as you stick your ass up in the air for him, getting ready to take his cock.

Din hooks his hands on your hips, aligning himself with your soaking wet cunt. He thrusts into you in one clean motion, cursing under his breath before pounding into you unforgivingly.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you moan out.

“Who?”

“I belong to you, daddy!” you cry out.

“Good girl, that’s right. Daddy owns this cunt, huh?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s all yours!” you cry out again, just as he slams into you with the most force he’s used so far. You cum around his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He cums inside you with his cock pressed right up against your cervix, letting out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you when he’s done and you fall forward, collapsing onto the bed. The vibro-blade is still impaled in the mattress. He pulls it out and deactivates it, leaning forward and hovering over you.

“Do you understand why you were punished now?”

“Yes, daddy,” you sigh.

“You had a big night, mesh’la. Get some rest,” he says softly, lying down beside you and rubbing your back.

Just before sleep overtakes you, you whisper, “I don’t know… Maybe I need to act up again.”

“Oh there’s no maybe,” he chuckles, “You’ll act up again. But that just means I have to keep reminding you that you’re mine.”

“Sounds good to me,” you whisper, drifting off to sleep under Din’s touch.

You wake up the next morning and get ready to check out of the motel room, weirdly missing it already. But just as you turn to leave the building, one of the housekeeping employees stops Din.

“Sir?”

Oh, this is definitely about the mattress.

You both turn around to face the worker, an older woman who seems nice enough. She continues, “I don’t want to know how exactly the mattress was damaged. But we can’t let you leave until you pay a fee.”

“Okay…” Din says awkwardly.

She leads you to the front desk and lets the employee stationed there handle the transaction. The woman whispers something in the other employee’s ear. You can only catch bits and pieces of what she said but definitely something about a weird stain on the mattress by the puncture mark. You look over at Din, who's staring directly at you. You’re sure he’s shooting daggers with his eyes under the helmet. Yeah, you’re definitely not coming back here again.

The woman sets off down the hallway to finish cleaning the mess you and Din made, just as the front desk employee says, “That’ll be six hundred credits.”

Six hundred credits.

Din grabs credits from his pocket and hastily sets them on the counter before grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the motel.

As soon as you’re back out on the street he says, “See what happens when you act up?”

“You’re the one who stabbed the bed,” you say, folding your arms.

“You're going to end up costing me a fortune,” he sighs.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you tease.

He doesn’t deny it, of course.

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sorrowfulrosebud · 9 months

Text

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: 𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 ℌ𝔬𝔟𝔦𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔶𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝔣𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔶, 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔶

༺ 𝕱𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖋 ༻

❦ Hobie is 10000% the boyfriend who kisses the insides of your wrist. Imagine smushing his cheeks together to tease him and he turns the tables by pressing gentle kisses to each pulse point

❦ Loves to send you selfies of the villains he beats up with goofy captions and him posing

❦ Introduces you to his friends at the pub, proudly showing you off

❦ Then proceeds to drunkenly ramble to said friends, arm tight around your shoulder with a protective hand over your drink

❦ Is an incredible cook when he wants to make something special for you, but otherwise makes low effort meals

❦ He loves to tickle your sides when he’s behind you. He comes over to you from behind under the guise of wanting a cuddle, but a devilish grin appears as he presses his long fingers into your sides, making you ugly chortle and shove him away

❦ Hobie would 10000% do the spiderman kiss with you

❦ Protective as FUCK but doesn't show it outwardly. Like, you’ll be walking down the street and some guy would cat call you, but Hobie doesn’t say anything. His grip on your shoulder gets tighter, and it’s not till he comes back past midnight with a bloodied lip do you feel pride flush your chest

❦ He lets you sit on his lap in bed as you do his eyeliner for his upcoming show. Gentle fingers rub against your hip as he looks at you with hooded eyes, letting you smudge his eyeliner. He looks at you with a charming grin, “thanks babe,” he’d say as he kisses you deeply

❦ Hobie lets you pick his nail polish colour and watches you delicately apply it to his nails. He thinks it's adorable when your tongue sticks out in concentration or when you nibble on your lip

❦ He invites the rest of the spidey squad to come to his dimension to play cards and other games, having you sat in his lap the entire time. If you’re playing poker or something, he nudges you in an attempt to silently communicate what he should pick. He gives you the occasional discreet kiss as Gwen cackles at Pav winning go fish over Miles

❦ Soft, classical music is NOT his style at all, so don't expect him to start playing Ed Sheeran on a regular guitar. If you struggle to fall asleep, he sets you on his tummy and makes patterns on your back based on the way his fingers would position themselves on his guitar

❦ He loves causing chaos with you, be it spray painting a Winston Churchill poster or statue of another bigot, or blasting his guitar near MPs houses, he loves it when you’re there, smiling happily with him

❦ DEFINITELY THE BF TO SMACK YOUR ASS. I SAID WHAT I SAID

❦ Doesn't have a set nickname for you, usually a play on your name or “luv”

❦ The type of bf who gets really invested in his S/O’s drama. Like you could be sat sipping tea, rambling about how this bitch tried to make you feel like shit and he’s just sat proudly like “oh yah? Then what’d you do babe?” With the dopiest ass look on his face

❦ Really stinking cute when drunk. Full on ambling into his flat, making you take care of him. Loves when you clean his piercings and rub off his eyeliner

❦ “Mf, thanks babe. Eyeliner makin’ it difficult to go to sleep,” he mumbles as you prop him upright on the bed. You roll your eyes fondly as you clean him up and start cleaning his piercings

❦ Thinks it's funny as fuck to make you smell his crust jacket. Punks are known to have jackets and not wash them to make them look as grunge as possible and Hobie is no different (bc fuck consistency)

༺𝕬𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖙༻

ఌ Is really stand-offish at the start of your relationship. His dislike for labels put a strain on your relationship; he would kiss you and make you feel loved, and then rip your heart out by saying you’re just friends to his pub mates

ఌ Struggles to fully take things seriously. You could be arguing over something and Hobie would just smirk, making the anger boil over. He doesn’t do it to emasculate or intimidate you, he just thinks it’s cute when you’re so passionate. This has definitely caused some worse arguments and either of you storming out

ఌ Definitely struggles with time and dates. If you arrange a date and he’s Spider-Punkin’ that day, be prepared to walk home and cry after waiting so long that the owners of the restaurant have to gently nudge you away

ఌ It can be seen as angsty or horny, but if you’re trying to start a fight or fussing over him when he’s tired, he’s not above shooting his web at your mouth to shut you up

ఌ Is low-key petrified every time he can’t get hold of you if you’re apart. He doesn’t want your death to become another canon event for him, so days where his anxiety manifest into something way deeper, he keeps you either at arms length or doesn’t let you out of his sight

ఌ Can actually be really mean in arguments if pushed far enough. Man is all for communication, but days where his mental health is struggling are usually days where his temper is short. He does his best to communicate to you that he’s not doing great but is physically fine and just needs some time, but if you keep pushing then he knows where to hit deep. (This is so so incredibly rare though)

ఌ Unintentionally gives you the silent treatment after an argument. If you had a really bad fight and he is still trying to cool off, he is in no mood to talk to anyone. I may be projecting, but I imagine Hobie is the type of person to need to be completely left alone to cool off and gets really upset again if someone tries to ask. He always wants to answer your text but sometimes forgets

ఌ Doesn’t let on but sometimes he has really bad nightmares from his role as protector of London. Sometimes it’s you getting hurt and sometimes it’s him. Either way, he wakes up in cold sweats and immediately feels for you before sighing in relief.

“Hi sweetheart, are you alright? You kept making noises in your sleep,” you murmur to him. Hobie’s eyes fluttered slightly before sinking back under the duvet with a sigh.

“Ughhhh, yeah. ‘M fine babe, jus’ a stupid bad dream,” he mutters, throwing his arm around your waist and nuzzling into your chest. Your arm wrapped around his lean tummy and rubbed soft circles to the skin.

“D’you wanna talk about it hun? I’m here for you,” you whisper softly into his ear. Hobie thought for a minute before shaking his head.

“No thanks. Not now. Jus’ lemme hold ya,” he grunts sleepily. Your fingers found a steady rhythm against his back as you heard him sigh deeply into your neck.

“I love you so much Hobes. I’m always gonna be right here, waiting for you,” you promise him. Slender fingers intertwined with yours, the slight tremble being the only movement in your dark shared bedroom. Tender but firm kisses were placed along your neck in silent thanks as the two of you slip back into dreamless slumber.

༺𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖙༻

༒ Is SUPER easy to turn on. The softest of praises is enough to turn his cock rock hard, but is also a major horn dog for being degraded 🤭🤭

༒ Gets SUPER horny when he catches you wearing his jewellery and jackets. He WILL fuck you right then and there

༒ He’s more of a grunter than a moaner, unless he’s quite deep in subspace. He’s definitely not above whimpering

༒ Hobie loves to send you videos of him wanking off, angled so you can see every lustful touch and hear every choked gasp

༒ A very versatile man. Doesn’t mind whether he’s domming or subbing, or even if there’s no dynamic

༒ Some of Hobie’s biggest kinks: edging, slight overstim, light impact play, light sensory deprivation and wax play

༒ If you’re female or someone without a peeny weeny, he would definitely take some good old cock up the ass <3 the male G spot is up there for a reason!

༒ He can often get lost in pleasure if he’s penetrating you, making his thighs shake as sweat drops and he’s biting into your shoulder like a man starved

༒ Definitely skilled with his fingers 😝😝 loves to finger you until you’re shaking and crying from overstim

༒ Is such a huge brat you wouldn’t believe 🤭🤭 he doesn’t deliberately say things to rile you up, but rather small displays. Rubbing his hands up your sides, murmuring soft teasings into your ears, lingering kisses right before a mission so you end up beating a villain with fire burning in your crotch

I absolutely adore this man, send asks and thots 🤭

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #astv hobie #hobie x reader #Hobie x reader angst #hobie x reader fluff #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader

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