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#Sounds a bit counter productive doesn't it
flowercrown-bard · 2 months
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I am once again pissed at diet culture. I just watched three tiktoks in a row. how to cook dairyfree. How to meal prep without carbs. How to make healthy snacks without sugar. I keep getting (and stupidly clicking on) those articles that are like "ten things you shouldn't eat if you want to lose weight" and "why xy foods are bad for you" and wouldn't you know it last week i got recommendated articles that said those specific foods were super healthy and great for weight loss and now i should "never eat" them?? Is there any food we're still allowed to eat without being made to feel guilty?
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arminsumi · 7 months
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ADULT STORE
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."
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1.5k words
Pt. 2
Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)
Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈
Playme : wanna know what it's like?
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The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.
The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.
"Yo."
Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.
He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.
"Ah, h-hello..."
He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.
"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.
"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."
Yeah, that's what I thought.
He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.
"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"
His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.
"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."
Aw, of course.
"M'kay... then let me assist you."
He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.
"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"
"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.
I know exactly what she needs...
"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."
His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.
Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.
"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"
Aw, she's flustered.
"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."
Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.
"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."
There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.
He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.
"This one's got ten functions—"
"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."
"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."
The two of you share a long look, then laugh.
"But it really is an excellent product."
"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.
"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."
I could make her squirt.
He's running his eyes up and down your body.
"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.
"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."
He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.
"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.
A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.
Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...
He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.
"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.
You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.
He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.
"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.
"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.
He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.
"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."
"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."
Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.
His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."
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After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.
He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.
He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.
"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."
He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.
"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?
"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"
"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"
He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.
Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.
He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.
She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.
You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.
"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.
You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.
"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."
"Fuck, okay."
And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.
"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.
Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.
His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.
This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.
"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"
He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.
Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.
"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."
And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.
Please cum on my face. Please please please.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"
You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.
He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.
"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"
Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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vanteguccir · 2 months
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Disgusting food roulette | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.
Warning: Feeling sick in the stomach.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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"I really need to participate?" Y/N asked as she ran her eyes over the triplets. She had her hips resting on the table, where various types of food, sweets, and drinks were displayed.
"It'll be cool! And Matt needs the emotional support." Nick joked, lightly patting Matt's right shoulder, who was looking at the food with a disgusted look.
“It’s not like you won’t do well, Y/N.” Chris scoffed, crossing his arms, before looking at the camera. "She is the only person in the world who isn't fussy about any food. Anything you give her, she will eat it."
The girl rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh while shaking her head. It was true that she wasn't fussy about food, but that didn't hold back the shiver that ran up her spine every time she looked at some of the items on the table.
Raw egg? Easy cheese? She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about the taste of them against her tongue.
"As you can see, we have four separate piles of food here. Y/N didn't buy the food of her side since we decided she would participate when we were already at the grocery store." Matt explained while gesturing to the separated piles.
"Exactly, so we bought the food for her." Nick finished with a smirk on his face, arranging the items in a row.
"They put me in a mess, guys. I didn't even know what foods they would buy, now I regret even getting out of bed." Y/N grumbled miserably, helping the boys open all the product packaging.
Nick rolled his eyes at her drama, quickly explaining about the app they would use to choose who would go in turn.
"Let's begin!"
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"Please, don't be me. Please, don't be me." Nick speaks repeatedly with a frown on his face, his right hand over his mouth while his left index finger pressed the screen of his phone.
Y/N let out a laugh at him, also pressing her finger on the screen, along with Chris and Matt. Matt's right arm was around her shoulder as he took deep breaths, trying to calm the strong, disgusting taste that was settling in his mouth.
The girl watched him momentarily from the corner of her eye, checking if he was well within the limit, feeling his hand squeezing her biceps lightly.
Chris's excited scream caught her attention abruptly, her eyes traveling to the screen. Her finger had been chosen to eat the yellow pepper.
She stared at the pepper for a few seconds, the triplets' laughter sounding like a background sound to her ears.
"Wait, isn't that the yellow pepper we use as seasoning?" Y/N asked, taking some steps away from Matt and the boys and finally picking up the food, twirling it between her fingers.
"I don't know. It doesn't matter, just eat it!" Nick pressed, looking at her expectantly.
Matt watched her closely, pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter, supporting his own weight against the table with his left arm.
The girl shrugged. If her theory was right, that was one of her favorite peppers. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit off a small piece, chewing carefully as she felt the taste and burn settle on her tongue.
"Um, not too strong. It's good." Y/N commented, still chewing, swallowing seconds later.
"You're crazy, entirely." Chris shook his head repeatedly, taking steps away from her as if she was mad.
Matt observed her with widened eyes, surprised by her little reaction.
"Put it there." Nick pointed to the counter next to the stove where they were piling up the food they had already eaten, his face showing a disgusting look. "Next!"
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"It's going to be Chris, I can feel it." Y/N muttered, her eyes fixed on the phone as their four index fingers pressed the screen.
The back of Matt's right shoulder was resting against her chest, while her free hand stroked his hair gently. She knew he was about to get sick, so she was trying to stay as close to him as possible.
"Oh no!" Chris shouted, bringing his right hand to his head in a sign of desperation after seeing the result.
"Yes!" Matt celebrated, turning around and hugging Y/N, jumping up and down in place. His sudden movements made her lose her balance, taking them both to the ground.
Y/N had her mouth open and eyes closed as laughter escaped her lips at her boyfriend's euphoria. She couldn't believe his happiness just because he wasn't chosen to eat the yogurt.
Matt screamed in celebration, hugging Y/N tightly. Nick told him to lower his voice due to the hour, but he was completely ignored.
"He is crazy." Chris commented, pointing to the two on the floor as he shook his head, letting out a laugh, momentarily forgetting what he had to eat.
Nick took the camera off the tripod, focusing the lens on the couple, capturing the perfect image of Y/N with her back against the cold floor and Matt with half his body over hers, his arms encircling her torso and his head buried in the curve of her neck, sounds of laughter echoing from there.
Fans would go crazy over that.
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"No!" Matt screamed, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He had been chosen to eat the red pepper.
Y/N winced, her eyes going from her boyfriend to the pepper and back again. Before she could say anything encouraging, Matt picked up the food and bit off half of it.
"Matt! Are you crazy? This is very spicy. Spit it in the trash! Don't swallow it." Y/N yelled, her eyes wide. She put her hands on Matt's shoulders, guiding him to the trash can.
"Spit it out, Matt." Chris repeated, recording his brother's steps with the camera.
Y/N pressed the pedal to the trash can, opening the lid and patting her boyfriend's shoulder as he spat. She bit her lower lip in worry as she noticed his face start to turn red, his eyes filling with tears.
"Oh, baby. Breathe." She asked calmly, guiding him to the front of the table again, her hands resting on his waist, squeezing the covered skin lightly.
"Oh my God, it's so hot." Matt agonized, fanning his face with his right hand. "My lips-"
Chris and Nick laughed at his reaction, taking their fingers to the phone again, wanting to end the video quickly.
"Come on, guys!" Nick called, pushing Y/N's hips with his own - since she was closer to him -, getting her attention.
The girl took Matt's right hand and guided it to the phone, placing him index finger on the screen and then her own, keeping her eyes fixed on her boyfriend's face. Droplets of sweat started to appear on his forehead as his cheeks burned red, and Y/N was ready to get him out of there if necessary.
Chris was chosen next to eat the jelly, and Matt took advantage of the situation to walk around a little, wanting to alleviate the burning sensation in his mouth.
Y/N quickly followed him, helping him drink the water that was still in his hands, despite knowing it wouldn't help much.
"Do you want some milk, my love?" She asked quietly so the camera wouldn't catch it. Matt shook his head, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of adding milk to the horrendous mix of all the things he had eaten.
The boy seemed disoriented, his head hurt, and his tongue burned. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulling the door open and opening his mouth, momentarily exhaling in the cold air, before closing it again.
"Come, love." Y/N pulled him closer to the phone again, intertwining their free hands and squeezing his fingers with her own lightly.
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"Are you okay?" Chris asked, approaching and touching Matt's shoulder. His words sounded worried, even though he was still laughing.
Matt nodded as he drew in puffs of air through his open mouth, a multi-layered piece of colby-jack cheese pressed to his right cheek. Y/N watched him from the side, feeling helpless.
"It's not helping." He shouted, leaning on Nick momentarily and blinking his eyes repeatedly, watching Y/N eat the second to last content.
His heart raced when it was the app's turn to choose who would eat the last item, the raw egg.
"If Matt's chosen, I'll eat for him." Y/N quickly imposed, pressing her finger on the screen and staring intently at it.
"This is not how it works." Chris muttered, bumping his shoulder against hers playfully.
"Fuck the rules." She shrugged, sighing in relief when she saw the app choose Nick.
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"Matt, what was the worst that you ate?" Chris asked, bringing the camera closer to Matt, who was opening the fridge.
The boy ignored him, leaning forward slightly and bringing his mouth under the water filter, taking long sips. Y/N let out a low laugh as she saw Chris frown at not receiving any response, rubbing her boyfriend's back softly.
Matt closed the fridge doors, taking some steps back and resting his arms on the table as he took a deep breath, feeling all the food rise up his throat. He swallowed hard, straightning up and looking at Chris behind the camera, his own eyes filling with tears.
"I'm going to bed." His voice was broken. He turned and walked quickly to his shared room with Y/N, receiving a light slap on the back from Nick.
"Okay, he's going to bed."
Y/N let out a nasal laugh, shaking her head. She quickly walked to the cupboard next to the stove, taking a glass. She opened the fridge, taking a bottle of ice cold water and pouring some milk into the glass, closing the door with her hip.
"I'll take care of him." She told the boys, blowing an air kiss to the lens before walking to their bedroom, balancing the items in her hands, Nick and Chris' voices speaking with the camera falling behind.
The girl turned the door handle with her elbow, slowly entering the room and closing it again behind her back.
Her eyes traveled around momentarily, the lights were off, making it difficult to see anything. She squinted her eyes and quickly found her boy laying on the bed in a fetal position, approaching him in slow steps.
Y/N placed the milk and water on the bedside table and squatted down, resting her arms on the mattress. She brought her right hand to Matt's hair, gently brushing the loose strands out of his eyes. Her fingers caressing his warm skin.
"Honey? What are you feeling?" She asked in a low tone, not wanting to heighten her boyfriend's senses. Her heart sank at the way Matt seemed to be in discomfort, his eyes were closed tightly and his brow was furrowed, his shoulders tense.
"Stomach pain. My tongue is still burning and I'm hot on the insides and cold on the outside." The boy explained, his voice sounding weak followed by him sniffling.
"Come here, baby. Let me help you." Y/N asked gently, standing up from her crouched position and helping Matt sit up slowly.
Her hands grabbed the hem of the black t-shirt that covered his torso, pulling it up slowly, helping him take it off his arms and head, placing it aside on the mattress to fold later.
Y/N quickly grabbed the air conditioning remote that was next to the items she brought, turning it on and setting it to 18°C. Not so cold, but refreshing.
She put the remote back in place and picked up the milk, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising the glass so Matt could see what it was, receiving a whine in response.
"I know it might seem gross to drink milk after everything you've eaten, but it will help lessen the burn from the pepper, baby." Y/N spoke calmly, bringing the glass closer to Matt's face. "You ate a large amount. If we don't alleviate it now, this burning sensation will continue for several hours, sweetheart."
The boy sighed before wrapping both of his hands around Y/N's, who was still holding the glass for fear of Matt dropping it since his hands were shaking. He took it to his lips and closed his eyes tightly, tilting the glass and taking a small sip.
Y/N encouraged him with small whispers, pushing his hair back with her free hand, freeing his forehead from the heat of his strands.
Matt put the glass down after a few sips, pushing it closer to her, showing that he didn't want any more. He removed his hands from around Y/N's, allowing her to put it down.
The girl placed it on the bedside table again, watching her boyfriend's reactions.
"Do you think you're going to throw up? Or are you okay, and it's just the burning?"
"No, I'm not going to throw up, I just want to sleep." The boy responded weakly, lowering his torso onto the bed again, feeling the duvet pressing against his back. He turned onto his side, pressing his right hand to his exposed stomach. "Come lie down with me, please."
"I will, my love. Just let me take this glass to the kitchen, and I'll be right back." Her tone was low.
She leaned her body over his, sealing his cold forehead with her warm lips for a few seconds before pulling away and rising from the bed. She took the glass again, pushing the water bottle closer to the bed before taking steps towards the exit.
"I love you." She heard Matt whisper before closing the door behind her. A huge smile decorated her face as she felt her heart race.
She would do anything to make him feel better and Matt knew that.
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Extra - comments:
"I seriously thought Matt would throw up everything 😭"
"omg Matt is CRAZY for eating half of a red pepper without a second thought 🤡"
"Y/N worrying about Matt is so cute 🥺"
"the way Y/N kept looking at Matt all the time, making sure he was okay 😔 I love them so much"
"Matt almost dying, Y/N worried sick and Chris and Nick laughing until their next generation was the best thing I saw today"
"Matt and Y/N on the floor laughing their asses off is my new romain empire 🧎‍♀️"
"Matt saying 'I'm going to bed' after a traumatic experience is totally me for real"
"can we take a minute to appreciate Y/N eating the yellow pepper like it was chocolate? WHAT A WOMAN GUYS!!!! 🤤"
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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itoshi-s · 1 year
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anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !
wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole
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standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.
you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.
with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.
the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.
rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.
you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.
but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.
you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.
as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.
shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.
"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"
you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.
"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.
perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.
he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.
"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.
the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)
there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.
"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"
blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?
continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.
you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.
the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.
"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"
your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.
"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.
the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.
"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.
rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.
you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.
(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)
it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.
isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?
"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.
rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.
he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.
"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."
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geminijade · 2 months
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Just Hold Me (Steve Rogers X Y/N Comfort Fic)
A/N: I've had the worst migraine for 2 days and this is a product of that. Pure fluff and comfort, some angst. A little bit of smut because this is Steve Rogers that were talking about. I didn't know quite how to end it but I hope that you enjoy it!! Likes, hearts, comments and reblogs are definitely appreciated!! No trigger warnings that I can think of. Happy reading! 📚
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The bell above your door chimed, letting you know that your last customer had left for the evening. You followed them to the door and wished them a good night as you flipped the open sign to closed and locked the door behind them. You leaned against the door and let your head rest for a few seconds. Your feet are killing you, you can't wait to go home and take your shoes and bra off. You can feel the migraine that has been building for the last few days getting worse.
You wearily open your eyes and dim the lights hoping that will help with the pounding in your head. You haven't been sleeping well since Steve left a few weeks ago on what was supposed to be a simple recon mission: get the info and get out. It doesn't help that it's been radio silence since he left. You sigh as you begin putting the chairs and stools on the tables and counter tops so that you can sweep and mop and finally go home to your empty apartment. You put away the cleaning supplies and grab your jacket and purse, making your way towards the dimly lit parking lot.
You silently curse yourself for parking so far away but it made sense at the time. You've been skipping the gym a lot lately so you thought you'd get your steps in by parking as far away as humanly possible. You make sure you have your phone open and ready in case you have to call for help. With pepper spray and keys in hand you walk as quickly as you can with your head on a swivel, scanning the nearly empty parking lot for any threat. You do a quick scan of the backseat, making sure that it's empty as you climb in and lock the doors behind you.
You let out a sigh as you check your phone in case Steve was able to get a message out to you but his last message was roughly two weeks ago. A single tear escapes and you brush it away. Driving towards home and the streets are quiet and empty so you make good time. You drag your tired and aching body through the doors to the building and give a warm greeting to the night security guard who lets you know that the elevator is closed for repairs. Just when you think that this day couldn't get any worse, you smile faintly "thank you for letting me know, have a good night James."
"You too, Y/N." You wave goodbye and start the long and arduous walk up three flights of stairs. The thought of a hot bubble bath with a chilled glass of stawberry moscato, garnished with an actual strawberry sounds like heaven and it drives you quickly up the three flights and you let yourself into your apartment. You shrug out of your jacket and hang it on the hook beside your door. You dropped your keys in the dish on the table in your hallway, you slipped out of your black no slip sneakers and groaned a sigh of relief.
Too preoccupied with the thought of a hot bath you didn't notice that your mail was stacked neatly next to the key dish. You stood there rubbing your stiff neck when you felt two big and strong hands grip your waist and pull you back into a hard body. You let out a stunned, quiet gasp as he spun you around in his hands. You gasped as you found yourself looking into Steve's baby blue eyes. "There's my best girl. I missed you so much."
You're overcome with emotions and you feel your throat tightening up with unshed tears. Words wouldn't even begin to cover how much you missed him and how relieved you are that he's standing in front of you and he looks like he got through the mission relatively unscathed. You throw your arms around his neck and you stand on your tippie toes and pepper kisses all over his handsome face. "Whoa, hey. Y/N, I'm ok. I'm here. I'm sorry I couldn't keep in touch with you but I'm here now, ok?"
You find yourself nodding through your tears as you hang onto Steve as if you're afraid of letting him go. He rubs your back with his big, warm hand and you feel yourself starting to relax for the first time in weeks. Steve holds you until your breathing evens out and he kisses your forehead. He thumbs away your tears and gently kisses your lips. You lean into the kiss and grasp his big shoulders.
"I missed you so much." You murmur against Steve's soft lips. You deepen the kiss pulling Steve flush against your body. Your fingers grasp the hair at the nape of his neck. You bite his lower lip causing Steve to moan into your parted lips.
"Stop, stop, stop. Baby girl, we have to stop." You were practically panting as Steve gently gripped your shoulders. You pouted up at him and he smiled down at you. "I'm going to run you a bubble bath, okay? Why don't you get out of your work clothes, I left you a fluffy robe on the bed."
You hoped that Steve could see how much you loved him. "I'm pretty sure that makes you the best boyfriend in all of New York City." You started down the hall towards your bedroom and Steve slapped you on the ass as you passed him. His large hand stinging your skin. You let out a startled gasp and whipped around. You glared at him accusingly and he just smiled at you and winked as he shrugged his big shoulders sheepishly.
You resumed your walk towards your bedroom, stripping on the way. You reached down to pull your skintight black t shirt over your head. Jeans came next as you pulled them down your long legs. You were leaving a trail of clothing but you were just too tired to care. You reached behind you to unhook your bra but before you could you felt Steve come up behind you and you could feel his warm minty breath on your neck causing you to gasp. "Let me, pretty girl."
His big fingers struggled to grasp the little hooks but he finally got it and you leaned against him and groaned in relief as he slid the bra straps down your arms. He trailed his fingers up your sternum and his callused palms gently began massaging your full, heavy breasts. "Feels so good, Steve." You quietly murmured as you arched into him. Pushing your breasts into his hands and your ass into his crotch, causing him to groan into your ear. "Fuck, sweetheart."
That caused you to smile, "language, Captain." He pinched your nipples. "Brat. Go get in your bath and I'll be right there." You turned to face him and gave him a salute. "Aye aye, Captain." You turned on your heel and made sure to put an extra sway of your hips in for his benefit.
You opened the bathroom door and a gust of steam came rolling out. You slipped out of your panties and slid into the hot water. You groaned in relief, you could smell lavender and citrus from the bubbles and the candles Steve had lit everywhere. You could feel the tension leaving your body as you sensed Steve looming over you. You looked up at him and smiled, holding out your hand.
He gently took your hand and kissed your soapy knuckles. You watched as Steve pulled his grey tshirt over his head and tossed it into the hamper. His toed his boots off and he kicked them to the side as you watched him as he took his jeans off and black boxers off and you scooted forward, making room so that Steve could slip in behind you. You let out a groan as you felt yourself relax against him. He's here, he's safe and he's with you.
Steve began by lathering up his hands with your lilac body wash and began rubbing your shoulders. He began working the knots out and you felt yourself melting against him. You felt your eyes begin to droop shut as you felt the warm sudsy water cascade over your hair and shoulders. You felt Steve shift behind you to grab your shampoo and you heard the click as he popped it open and poured some into his hands and started massaging your scalp. Your migraine began to dissipate and it brought tears of relief to your eyes.
He rinsed your hair clean and you reached forward to pull the plug and the water began to slowly drain. You scootched forward so that Steve could step out of the tub and wrap a fluffy towel around his sculpted waist. You looked at him admirable and said wistfully, "that really is America's Ass." He looked over hid shoulder at you and shook his head.
"That's where you're wrong, Doll. My ass belongs to you and only you." Steve leaned over and gently grasped your chin and pulled you in for a quick kiss. It was over before it began and you whined at the loss of contact. "Stay here, I'm going to get your towel out of the dryer."
You nodded as you looked up at him. "I love you Steve." That stopped him in his tracks. You two have been together for a year and a half and it just felt like time. He turned back towards you and he smiled and said "I love you, too. I always have and I always will."
He came back with your favorite towel, warm and toasty from the dryer. You held out your hand to him and he gently grasped your fingers as you stood up he slipped the towel around your shoulders and he picked you up bridal style and carried you into your bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of your bed and you noticed that he turned your sheets down and had the lights on dim with a few candles lit sporadically around. It felt so calm and peaceful, just what you needed after a long day. Steve had changed into a pair of red flannel sweat pants and a black t shirt.
He walked over to you, it looked like he had a pair of black sweats and a grey t shirt with your favorite fluffy socks in his hands. Steve dropped to his knees in front of you and picked up your right foot and set it on his thick thigh. He squirted some lotion into his hands and began rubbing your aching feet. It was instantaneous relief as he switched to your other foot. He slid on your socks and he helped you stand up as the towel fell from your shoulders and to the floor.
You grasped his shoulder as you lifted one foot and then the other as Steve helped you into your pajama pants. His warm lips grazed your belly button and it brought butterflies to your stomach and a gasp escaped your lips. He kissed his way up to your lips and you felt yourself becoming aroused. He kissed you gently and turned you around, you couldn't feel him behind you and the anticipation was killing you. You felt his warmth return as he sprayed your damp hair with some spray and he gently began working the tangles out of your hair.
It felt amazing and your head lolled to the back as Steve finished brushing your hair he put it in a loose braid and he kissed your shoulder and you arched your back into his groin and you felt his cock jump against your ass causing you both to groan at the same time. He pulled away from you and you mourned the loss of contact. He rubbed some lotion into your shoulders and he helped you slide into one of his old t shirts. It was worn and thin but it was your favorite. It smelled like Steve. You turned around and slide your hands up to his shoulders and he grasped your hips and began walking you slowly backwards to your bed.
You felt the back of your knees hit your mattress and you collapsed with a giggle. "Someone's loopy," Steve chuckled at you as he held the covers up for you to slip under. You slid under the cool sheets as you watched Steve blow out the candles and walk back towards you. He made sure that your apartment was secure for the night and he partially shut your bedroom door and crawled in next to you. You felt the mattress dip as Steve settled in next to you.
You draped yourself over Steve and he held you in his arms. You could hear his heart beating through his Tshirt and you murmured "this is the best sound." You felt yourself drifting off as Steve kissed the top of your head and began gently stroking your back, the warmth of his hand seeping through your (his) shirt. You let out a deep sigh and Steve felt your breathing even out and before you could drift off you looked up at your beautiful boyfriend and thanked him for turning your day around and making it infinitely better. "You don't have to thank me, sweetheart. I love you always and forever and you deserve it."
You put your head back on his chest and snuggled into his side. His warmth began seeping into you and you both began drifting off together. Falling asleep in your boyfriends arms after the longest day of your life was the best way to end your day. As you fell asleep you felt like the luckiest girl in all of New York City.
~fin~
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miasmaghoul · 6 months
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*ahem* edelweisss, edelweisss . . .
Swiss leans in the doorway to the common room, arms crossed over his chest, tail idly swishing behind him. He's been here for a few minutes now, left his book dog-eared on his bed with the intent of grabbing a snack. He'd found the kitchen occupied, though, and the smile he wears is exclusively thanks to the sight before him.
The kitchen is a mess; the small island is occupied by an ancient stand mixer and a few dirty bowls, while the counter lies covered in open containers, half-empty ingredient bags and not-small pile of used measuring spoons. The scent of sugar, citrus and something floral hangs heavy in the air, and Swiss can feel the heat of the oven from across the room.
At the center of the mess, though, lies what holds Swiss' attention.
Mountain's humming, swaying in front of the stove along with the album playing on the common room turntable. Something jazzy Swiss recognizes but can't name off the top of his head. Whatever it is, Mountain is clearly lost in it while he rather vigorously stirs something Swiss can't see. What he can see is the smattering of floury handprints covering Mountain's jeans, and the streak of something pale yellow that's somehow ended up in his hair. Swiss can only imagine how much worse Mountain's front must be, but there's one more detail that keeps him from wondering too hard.
The few delicate white flowers that have made their home at the base of Mountian's antlers have Swiss' eyes crinkling. He'd know those pale petals anywhere.
Swiss pushes off the doorframe and drags his feet just loud enough to announce himself. Sneaking up on Mountain in the kitchen doesn't usually end well. He sees the other ghoul's ear flick, sees him pause in stirring, and Swiss feels safe to speak.
"Thinkin' about me, grasshopper?"
Mountain peers at his over his shoulder, raises an eyebrow. Swiss gestures at his head as he strolls into he room, and Mountain rolls his eyes as though he can see his own antlers. He makes a chuffing sound and resumes his mixing, but Swiss doesn't miss his little smirk.
"Might be," he replies with a half shrug. "It's happened once or twice, against my better judgement."
Swiss laughs as he hops up onto one of the bar stools at the island, one leg tucked up under himself. He rests his elbow on one of the few clean spots by the mixer - the remnants of whatever Mountain has in his hair sits in the bowl closest to him, so Swiss picks it up and gives it a sniff.
"What's on the menu today, peaches?" Swiss swipes a fingers through a blob on the side of the bowl. Gives it a cursory sniff.
"A lemon and lavender cake," Mountain supplies, just in time for Swiss to pop his finger into his mouth and find out for himself.
The batter is delicious, sweet and tart and wonderfully smooth. Delightful on all counts. Swiss isn't surprised; Mountain is as good a cook as he is a messy one, and judging by the splotch of egg yolk Swiss can see on the ceiling this has been particularly inspired session.
"Fancy," he says, gathering another bit of batter. "If you need someone to taste when it's baked, my mouth ain't busy."
Mountain snorts, and together they say,
"For now."
Swiss playfully tosses a dirty tea towel at his back, and Mountain catches it without even looking. Tucks one corner into his pocket while his tail meanders towards the fridge.
"Already baked," he says, nodding towards the appliance while his tail tugs it open. The middle shelf holds three identical rounds of cake, the loveliest shade of yellow speckled with what must be flecks of lavender. "You'll have to wait for the finished product, I already trimmed them down. For quality control. You know how it is."
Swiss nods sagely. He slides from his stool and wanders over to the stove, humming when Mountain's tail sways up to greet him, the tufted end caressing his jaw. Swiss leans against the counter, and now he can see what Mountain is working on.
"What's, uh," he waves at the odd arrangement on the stove - a pan beneath what appears to be the stand mixer's bowl, which must contain whatever Mountain is tirelessly stirring. "What's this all for, then?"
"Frosting," Mountain tells him, lifting what turns out to be a whisk. "Eventually."
Something thick and gooey drips from the whisk and immediately gives Swiss several indecent thoughts.
"Don't say it looks like cum," Mountain says before Swiss can so much as open his mouth.
"Wasn't gonna," Swiss lies, tongue poking out between his fangs. Mountain gives him a look. "I wasn't!" Swiss insists, pushing away from the counter. He slips behind Mountain instead, wraps his arms around the taller ghoul's waist. Swiss kisses the back of his shoulder. "But I was gonna ask if that was why you were thinkin' about me."
Mountain barks out a laugh.
"Gross," he complains, but his tail wraps around Swiss' calf all the same. "But you're actually half right." Swiss makes a questioning sound, and Mountain points a thumb behind them. "Look at the recipe."
Swiss will, eventually. He indulges in holding Mountain first, just for a moment. Presses his nose to his sweat-damp shirt and breathes in the the homey scent of warm earth and something herbal. It blends beautifully with the lemon and sugar surrounding them, makes him feel a little fuzzy around the edges. He gives Mountain a squeeze, and stands on his toes to kiss the back of his neck before he lets go; another soft, white blossom pops up behind Mountain's ear.
Mountain picks up humming again while Swiss hunts for the recipe he mentioned. He piles dishes as he searches, stacks bowls and gathers measuring spoons. He finds it after a minute, an index card stained with vanilla and sticky with egg.
"A-ha," he holds up the card triumphantly, a light dusting of flour raining down from it. "Let's see what got you growing me."
Swiss wipes the card on his pants, and recognizes its looping, cursive script as Cumulus' handwriting. Lemon lavender layer cake with -
"No fuckin' way," Swiss says through a laugh. He looks up to find Mountain watching him with a glimmer in his eye. "That's all it took?"
"Yep," Mountain sighs, turning back to the task at hand. "That's all."
Swiss stares at the back of his head for a beat, and then the goofiest smile cracks his face. He tosses the card to the counter and returns to his place at Mountain's back, wrapping him up just a little tighter this time.
"Lucifer, you're a sap," he teases, but they both know it's true. Swiss reaches up and plucks one of the flowers decorating Mountain's antlers, spins it between two fingers. "Not that I'm complaining about bein' on your mind."
"Neither am I, edelweiss," Mountain rumbles. He briefly abandons his dutiful whisking to turn and knock their horns together. "Neither am I."
Mountain ducks down just enough for Swiss to catch him is a leisurely kiss, one that tastes like summery sunshine, and then he's gone again. Leaves Swiss grinning dumbly at the back of his head while warmth trickles into his belly. He settles against the taller ghoul's back, and in no time at all the pair of them start to sway to the music as one.
"So," Swiss murmurs into his shirt after a long moment, "what's a Swiss meringue buttercream, anyway?"
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youreirrelevant · 1 year
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Skyglow
pairing: kendall roy/reader
summary: “I want you to take care of me.” That makes him ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when something’s a little wrong.
words: 1787
tags: explicit, sickfic, daddy kink, praise kink, but also a little degradation kink, pwp, established relationship, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, playful sex, like the tiniest bit of fluff, implied age gap, there's really nothing that establishes when this is so
a/n: I started writing this when I was sick a few weeks ago and I thought I'd finish it. It's just for fun. It's a little silly. It doesn't all have to be serious or good.
It always felt like a waste, to stay in bed all day. Somehow scrolling through your phone in the living room seemed more productive than if you did it in bed. You barely even had the energy to do that. Left thinking. Wanting. Always find your mind wandering to him and what he can do for you. A warm, soft place to rest your hands. Press your lips against.
A deep voice to coax you through what his cock brings out of you— 
But the exhaustion was bone-deep. Bending a finger, lifting an eyelid- both felt nearly impossible. Even while lying down you felt weak, like you couldn’t get deep enough into the pillow, into the mattress. You needed to pool and bubble out; water spilled on the counter. 
The door opening wakes you from what must’ve been the fifth nap of the day. You were in a guest room- you didn’t want to get Kendall sick. He had shit to do, things that were “unmissable.” 
It’s dark. You can see out of the window from the bed; the sky is blue-black, a yellow edge on the horizon that fades up into it. Planes blink red and white across it. Only some of the windows in the other buildings are lit, and you wonder how late it really is. It's quiet; you can hear the AC running. The apartment is thrumming with a sleepy energy, like the way voices sound when you’re dozing off- blurred and smoothed at the edges.
“Can I, uh, can I sleep with you?”
You mumble that he can, voice croaky and gone. Scooting further in on the bed to make room for him- every joint aching so badly you almost whimper. He wraps his arm around you, kisses the back of your neck, and breathes. The heat on your skin makes you melt. 
“I couldn’t sleep without you in there with me.”
He brings you a little closer, for emphasis.
“I’d like to say the same, but I’m exhausted.”
A little huff of air from him, an affectionate smile you can’t see. Another kiss, right along your hairline. 
You both lay there for a while, but you don’t fall back asleep. The thoughts are much worse when he’s flush against you, firm thighs and a softer chest. His arms around you- you want him to use them to pull you down over him. 
“Why aren’t you sleeping? You said you’re tired.” He sounds groggy, as if maybe he’d fallen asleep, for just a second. 
“I know I was just- I was thinking of this,” you giggle a little, “of this tweet. Where this guy said that pussy, when someone has a fever, is crazy because it’s so hot.”
He grins so wide it hurts his face.
“Is this your way of, uh, telling me you want me to fuck you?”
“I mean- we gotta at least find out for ourselves.”
Kendall slips his hand beneath the waistband of your pajamas, uses the pads of his fingers to guide your leg up, to drape over his leg. He’s surprised to find you so wet, skin scorching against his. Wonders how long you were thinking about it. Rubs your clit slowly, and you’re practically boneless already. But then fingertips work down, towards your cunt, and you tense in anticipation. He knows you’re sick; he should be nice. But he can’t help but tease, doing it a few times until you whine his name. 
“You need it that bad?”
“Please- ” you sound kind of annoyed, as if his denial doesn’t warm you.
His clothes are moved just enough, but he grips the waistband of your pants to yank them down as far as he can from his position- he wants to get at you fully. They get stuck above your knees, and you huff and whine as you kick them free clumsily. Kendall’s undeterred, puts you back where you were. Presses in easily, and maybe they were right. Your groan is distant in his ears. When he’s seated fully, he rests his forehead against your shoulder.
“Well?”
“It- it is hotter. It could be, uh-,” he makes a muffled sound, like he’s steadying himself, “be in my head, though. Placebo effect, or something.”
You can’t help but laugh a little, the noise scraping out of you so badly he almost couldn’t tell what it was.
“You’re ridiculous. You’ve been asleep all day, I come in to sleep with you and you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to take care of me.”
That makes him fucking ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when something’s a little wrong. He places a big hand on the back of your thigh, slides it up to lift your ass cheek, spread you open. 
“Like, a daddy thing, or-?”
Oh… man.
“I don’t know if we- if we have to be so- if we need to go quite that far.”
As soon as you say it you’re prepared to recant. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies and warmth but it seems so much more taboo than other things that people would actually consider worse. So heavily stigmatized, something everyone knew about and mocked. His teeth press into your shoulder, like he’s squeezing it out of you. 
“Well- it does sound… kind of hot. Maybe we ease into it? Maybe ‘daddy’ doesn’t have to be said, but implied?”
His hand slips over your hip to rest on your lower stomach, a slow pull and push of his hips as his fingers find your clit again. Not wasting any time.
“You want me to ‘take care’ of you?”
Plush lips slide beneath your ear as he speaks, and every inflection and hard consonant fills you with heat. It’s your words, but from his mouth, it sounds good and perfect and right. His voice is soothing in this condescending way and it makes your lashes flutter.
“Yes, Kendall.”
He uses his palm against your pubic bone to pull you close, allow him to get deeper, fuck a little rougher. Insistent. You reach behind you to grab at his waist, fingers fisting in the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Your voice is fucked- every moan and whimper is broken and raspy and quiet. He kind of likes it, drags his lips over your neck, laughing affectionately when his finger presses harder, rubs at just the right angle, against just the right side and you cry out hoarsely. Barely able to keep your eyes open before but you want him so fucking bad. 
It’s like you’re next to a fire; you can practically see a red glow coming from your skin, penetrating your closed eyelids. You’re limp, melted into the smooth sheets, rolling weakly against him when you really need it. His brows pinch and his jaw falls open with a desperate noise before his lip is tucked beneath his teeth. Kendall props himself up on his elbow, fingers slipping into your hair, damp from sweat, turns your head enough to kiss you. So slack and pliant. You don't even think to stop him. 
“Does that feel better? Is this what you needed?” 
Jesus. It’s as if your brain is already fried- you’re already gone. Making some noise that’s probably the saddest attempt at an ‘mhmm,’ ever been done. Trembling, pulled tighter, breathing ragged and uneven and burning in your chest and throat. He brushes the tip of his nose over your temple- his own breath puffs rapid and hot against you.  Grunting when you grip even tighter. 
When you cum, it's so good it hurts. Like massaging a sore muscle, or fingers into your cheeks when your sinuses ache. It seeps into your hips and belly and back and you lean into it, into him. He shushes you and you can’t help but let out this startled ‘ god .’ You want to tell him he feels perfect, fucking perfect, but the words don’t come out. His pace doesn’t falter -no matter how snug and plush and slick you are around him- and it makes it seem like it’s lasting forever. 
Kendall thinks it’s lasting forever; you’re over a cliffside, on the other end of a rope, trying to pull him down when he has to keep you up. He makes sounds like he’s struggling; when you finally relax, he sounds relieved. 
Part of him wants to keep it up, and he can’t help, for a second, seeing the new ease with which his fingers slip over you, pressing three flat against your labia to make you squirm from the sensitivity. But that doesn’t last long, arm moving to wrap around your waist to hold you in place. Insistent. 
You’re awash with fatigue, fingers curling around the edge of your pillow, lids low over your eyes. Each time his hips meet your ass you make these pathetic little noises from the impact, sometimes barely even audible. He grabs your face again to turn you toward him- you feel hot, cheeks flushed to show it. Skin around your eyes, shiny, blueish, almost cartoonish. But you look up at him dutifully.
“You’re so pretty when you take it for me.”
That reignites something in you, makes you moan and grab at him.
“Such a pretty, perfect little girl deserves to feel good. Always desperate to cum on my cock- thinking about it when you can barely fucking think.”
You let out something between a gasp and a laugh, stunned. Thrown against the ledge but you can’t go over until you get that little bit more. 
“I- Ken, can you- would you-?”
This is how it always goes- just one more. Kendall gives it to you and goes to get his, but it always puts you right there, and he can’t help but oblige. He wants to tell you to do it yourself, because you’re tired, and maybe you won’t get off and you’ll get frustrated and whine. That makes him feel orange-hot and tingly, makes his hips stutter at the thought. But that’s not what this was tonight. The wide pad of his middle finger is tight against you -swollen, slick- and even with how fast you cum, he cums faster, hips so rough against yours that you whimper and wince.
He’s almost as light-headed as you are, almost as lax, weak. Every inch of you is unbearably heavy; it's like your skin could slough off your face. It’s so good.
“I might bring a whole new, literal level to sleeping like the dead.”
Your voice cracks and you slump forward onto your stomach, keeping your face turned from him.
“At least you’ll feel better.” Smiling softly, rubbing your back.
“You’ll join me shortly, since you fucking kissed me.”
475 notes · View notes
chemicallady · 7 months
Text
I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN
Part 1
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Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: none. It's gonna be a slow burn, baby! Just a couple of bad words and some references to sexual intercorse. Should I add Matt to the warming just because it's part of this?
Taglist: @ada-clarence, @badalmondzzzz, my wifey @starsomens
Summary: Reader is Matt's sister and PR for Bad Omens. After a long relationship that ended quite bad, with her brother help, she decides to give herself a fresh new start in Los Angeles.
A/N: from now on, I'll post my notes at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers!
As always this is just a product of fiction, nothing in this ff is real, my intention is to entertain myself and all of you.
Enjoy 🐕
I don't know if I count, but I'm trying my best.
This is not a story with a happy ending.
This is not one of those scenarios in which the grumpy old brother, after a significant amount of time, realises that his sister and his bestfriend are in love and the two of you can live happily ever after.
This is the real life, not an urban fairytale.
And there's a lot to unpack, emotionally.
First of all, you and Noah are not in love. You weren't aware of who he was before an hour ago. In your head you can ear in loop Eric, Eric, Eric, and it's fucking annoying that you actually had had the feeling you know him but you didn't recognised his throat tattoo after licking it. Or his nose. He has the most perfect nose you've ever seen, but nothing. It's not even an excuse that you haven't seen each other for three years because Matt shares videos from their gig on weekly basis, when on tour.
It's the fucking Clark Kent paradox, but instead of a pair of glasses, he got those long, perfect silk hair cut.
Losing the 25% of his charm, in your modest opinion.
But it doesn't matter.
Because when you met Eric, your first impression was that he seemed to be genuine, but shy maybe, in a good way a bit weird.
But genuine.
He is not genuine for the fuck sake! He lied on who he is and now you both have a problem.
Matt hasn't noticed yet, but only because he's too invested in the production of the music video to connect the dots. The way Noah stood in front of you, paralyzed, without talking, was loud enough for someone to notice.
You're sure about that.
After that stupid exchange of words you ran back inside the house telling everyone that it's too hot and you are not use yet to California's sunny day.
Dumbest excuse ever since is almost november, and Texas is warmer than here. But it worked so you can sit on the kitchen counter, and reflect about how much fucked up you are.
This is not even a story in which the main character is overreacting. You're Not. Matt has always hated every boy who laid and eye on you. From the very first boyfriend in mid school to a couple of classmates in highschool that just asked for your help with homeworks. Then, Shawn. He has never tollerated Shawn even if the rest of your family accepted him as a son. Matt never made up a scene in front of him or mistreated him in any way. But behind his back, he talked a lot shit, made you furious every time. He said that Shawn wasn't genuine enough (this adjective is starting to sound funny, at this point), caring enough, that he was drinking too much at your parents dinner table, that he looked too possessive.
In your modest opinion, your brother is terrible in judging others. For real. The issue on the table is always the same one; he is afraid you can get hurt. Matt can't physically stand the sight of you crying or being miserable.
Now, after this long mental digression, it's fair to say that he doesn't have to know. Absolutely. And you need Noah to be on the same page about that. You have to cut any contact with him that is not related to work. The date you have for friday is deleted.
It's sad because you really enjoyed having Eric around.
But he's not fucking Eric.
You don't have the chance to speak face to face with noah until after lunch. When the nerds move on Orie's room to give a first look at the unprocessed scenes and Jolly joined Folio in the pool, Noah is the one who actually comes looking for you.
You are on the sofa, petting Harper. He indulges just one second on the sight of you cuddling the adorable princess of the hous, before take a seat next to you. 《 Harp likes you.》
《 Well, she is not the only one. Isn't she?》
Noah release a long, loud sigh, while is cheeks get pink-ish. 《 You really are outspoken, are you?》. He gives a look at you, straight into your eyes. You are ready. You can feel how reticent he is right now, almost scared to say the wrong thing. 《 You are not gonna tell your brother about...》
《 About you eating me out in you car?》 It's your question, whispered between the two of you like the biggest secret in the world. 《 initially he won't believe us, but further investigations will follow; Maybe he will take the fingerprints from the back window. My hands were there while you were fucking me from behind. And he loves CSI.》
《 I'm serious. Are you going to tell him?》
And he is serious. You were joking, maybe because you feel a little embarrassed, maybe because your dad is right when he says that making fun about serious situations sometimes helps in facing them. But Noah on the other hand doesn't look amused. He looks like thinks you're mocking him.
So you hinale deeply, before looking back at him, leaving all your bullshit behind. And that's the moment in which you start to feel how tense the situation is. 《 I would rather chop my own foot than telling him I fuck with his best friend. He's gonna be furious. To me, but also to you. Do you have any deathwishies? Because I just got a fresh new start and I intend to survive the beginning of the week.》
Noah nods with a slow motion. He seems to have already evaluated any bad scenarios and keep it quiet is for the best of all of you. Especially Matt, who doesn't deserve to end up in jail. 《 So it's a secret between you and me now, Vanessa.》
《Don't you even try to use this card against me, Eric. 》
Noah brings his hands to his eyes. He looks even more concerned than you are. Matt once told you that Noah never had a real family, growing up. He was always on his own, so he formed a family with the friends he chose. Probably he is scared to disappoint Matt as much as you are.
《 Why you lie? Why you told me your name was Eric?》
With another sigh, Noah looked back at you. 《 I don't know. Sometime I ... fuck, you're going to have a bad first impression of me.》
《 Don't worry. I already had a bad first impression of you. 》
When he see you smile softly, he chuckles. It's pure tension right now and not the good one. He is living the horror of being caught with his hands in your honey jar. 《 ...When I meet a girl that sounds like troubles, I never bring her home and I give her a fake name.》
《 Did I sound like a troubles, to you?》
《 Yes because I knew I've already seen you.... but I couldn't recall were or when. And when you told me you had just moved in with your brother for a second I thought 'oh shit its y/n, her tits got bigger'. But then you lie as well and I believe I was in the safe.》
《 You didn't remember anything else but my breast size?》
It makes sense.
In some ways.
Half of fault is on both of you.
《 Sorry I lied》 , he says while rising from the sofa, ready to join his friends and check how the video is going 《 and sorry for... you know. 》
《 ah, don't say anything, we both enjoyed that part》 .
《 yeah, it was...》 Noah stays a couple of second in silence before biting both is lips. 《 We have to stop anyway. I cant loose Matt and he gave us a lecture about NOT fucking around with you, before you arrived.》
Now it's your time to sigh loudly. Yeah, you have seen that coming. But it's fine since you and Noah didn't planned it. You call it a casuality more than an incident.
You haven't big aspectation on Eric, anyway.
You feel like you've lost the capability of love long, after Shawn.
《 I agree. It's not gonna happen again》.
He smiles at you in relieve and you feel the same. 《 Can wait to work with you, than 》
《Otherwise》
He waves his hand before turning around and leave you in the living room. Harper is licking your hand so you start to pet her again, feeling better.
Matt will never know about your rendezvous.
You're washing the dishes after dinner, while Matt is picking up a movie. Even if you convinced yourself that you and Noah took the most resonable way, and also your conversation was short but clearifyng, you cant help yourself but feeling a bit down because you're not going to meet Eric anymore. And you know that Eric doesn't even exist. You will see Noah on a daily basis, and this will help a lot in moving on, but it's gonna be tough for the first week or two.
Because you and Noah are not in love, but you can feel the first syntomps of a beginning crush. Which is legit because Noah is funny and goofy and good-looking. More than that, he was nice to you and didn't force you in silence or nothing. You two have a conversation and reach an easy solution that makes everyone safe. Safe from Matt. After clearing the air, he also asked you for some advices because he never had a PR. It's his job usually and the two of you should work on that together. The prospective makes you nervous since you have no clue about the job itself, and Matt noticed. You know he did.
And you also know that he was waiting the vulnerable silence of your shared flat to talk about this with you.
《 What's wrong with Noah?》
You don't look back at him, rinsing the dishes from the soap. 《 What about Noah?》
《 He froze when he saw you this morning. And then you didn't look so happy about working with him》.
Matt and his way to be fucking direct.
You scroll your shoulders, epically good in lying. 《 I can't tell about him freezing in front of me. But I'm not looking forward to be his assistant and bring him his favorite brand of coffe.... or fold his underwares.》
《 That's not your job. He can make his own caffè and he won't let you fold any of his clothes. Trust me, that man on the edge of an OC diagnosis 》. You mumble something about being good in folding clothes while Matt approaches you, crossing his arm on his chest. 《 C'mon. Do I have to pull the big deal out of you kicking your ass?》
You're trapped because you two are too similar. You can read your brother like a book written for kids. Really dumb kids. And it's the same for him. You can't fool him too long.
《 Alright. I met a guy at the gym. He's name is Eric and he looked nice, but now I'm convinced that he's fake like a three dollar coin. Happy?》
You wait for the ocean of question that Matt is going to storm on you, but.... Nothing. He simply exhales before helping you, drying the dishes and the glasses with a cloat. You feel like you just turned twelve again and he was always around helping with the cores your mom gave you.
《 It's good that you're moving on fast. When I brought you here, I was afraid to see you again in the sane state you were in Texas. Close in your own room, drowing your bad feelings under the blankets. It's a good thing that you go to the gym and meet new people but be careful. People in LA are different from what you're used to. 》
You don't know what to say. You were aspecting Matt to start a lecture about rushing your new life and instead you got a boost. That's a progress.
《 Thanks for the advice》.
《 Just text me every time you're with him. And send me the position in real time so I can check.》
There he is! 《 You almost got me scared. I was wandering where my medieval-mind brother was. 》
《 Shut up!》
A soft laught leaves your mounth while he pours so water from the sink on you. And you oblige, doing it back on him. 《 I won't see Eric again, anyway.》
《 Who's Eric?》
《 Gym guy. He left.》
Matt finished drying the last fork before push you a little, playfully. 《 What did you say to make him run?》
《 Nothing! You asshole!》
The two of you reach the sofa, but apparently he is not done with the conversation. 《 Can you promise just two things?》
《 Alright, shoot》
《 In case this guy will be back and you won't be interested, just call Noah. He is enrolled to the same gym》.
You have to do your best to not laugh or betray yourself in any way. 《 Promise. What else?》
《 You are more than allowed to look for some happiness. You deserve to be loved by someone who is not an idiot as Shawn. Someone who sees the real you.》 You smile with some commotion to these beautiful words, reaching for his hand on the cushion in between you two. 《 But please never date anyone from the crew. No one wants drama while we're hitting the road.》
The smile froze on your lips without giving your brain the chance to process why you suddenly feel so .... disappointed.
《 y/n, pinkie promise?》
A bit reluctant, you grab his pinkie with yours, like you have done billions of time.
《 I promise》.
And you really hope you will be able to keep it.
It takes six days to meet again Noah at the gym. Matt helped you find a class about management and public relations, and day after day, you're learning how you can be useful for the band. Working on websites, taking care of the agenda, and defining schedules sounds scary, but you feel more confident day after day.
Noah is sitting outside his jujitsu class, his mitts next to him, and some bandage in his hand. The other one is busy scrolling the screen of his iPhone. You're reticent in bump into him, but just for a second. You know that if you start to avoid him, it will be a bad habit to lose. So you approach greeting him.
He looks surprised, but just for a couple of seconds, while he's buring the cellphone in his shorts' pocket. 《 How is yoga going?》
《 Fine, nothing noticeable》 , you take a seat next to him, smiling. 《 How jujitsu is going?》
《 Today, not so good》 he answers, showing you his brushed knuckles. Some blood on the right hand is almost dry. 《 I have to change my mitts. These are fucked.》
That's an amazing start of conversation for two people who had sex and then started to pretend that never happened in less than 24 hours.
《 Let me help you with that.》 With a nod, you indicate the bandages. He slowly gives the box to you, and after cleaning your hands with the sanitizer you have in your gym bag, you start to wrap the bandages around his hand gently.
《 How's school going? Matt said that you're taking it so seriously》. There is something in his voice that is illegible. Is he mocking you? Or maybe he is amused? You're focused on his hands to pay attention to his sminking face.
《 Well, I'm supposed to, right?》
《 Why? Why do you want to work with us? I mean... you can find a job as a piercer. I saw you in action and you're really good at it. 》
After fixing his left hand, you proceed to the other one, avoiding his gaze. 《 Do you want me to be honest?》
《 You can be honest, or you can be Vanessa 》.
A sigh escapes from your lips, uncontrolled. The audacity of this bitch. 《 Because I want the money. Because I want to spend a lot of time with my brother. Because I want to choose my job and leave the one my prick ex chose for me behind. Because I have nothing left to lose. I want to love my life again, waking up in the morning with a purpose.》
You have no idea why you're opening up to someone you barely know. But it is what it is. You can't have a fresh new start if you are not honest with yourself.
And when you look at Noah, you find respect in his gaze. 《 You just move in LA, and i'm not gonna lie to you: it's hard work. Are you sure you can take this?》
《 I'm used to fight any battle at my lowest》 it's your answer. The most honest one you can guarantee to him. 《 I'm ready to drag myself if it's necessary and only if it's forward. I need a hurricane to shake up my entire existence》.
《 Well well, you might have found the right one. Our new record could be a total disaster or grant us more than I can even imagine. You pick up the right train or, at least, you will enjoy every second of my downfall》
《 You're so drammatic, like every singer. 》
Noah giggles at your last affirmation before checking his hands. 《 thanks. You're already an amazing assistant. 》
《 I'm not your fucking secretary. 》
《 So who are you, y/n?》
A broken doll.
A girl that just wants to be love.
A woman covered in scars, who has a heart hidden in meters and meters of barber wire to prevent everyone from hurting it again.
《 A friend, Noah.》
And you can tell by his smile that it's the right answer he was waiting for. And this beautiful and sincere smile could be enough to put aside any crush you can develop in order to gain a true friend.
《 Lets grab a beer, then.》
A/N : I know that probably a lot of you are here for the smut, but I rethink this ff with a lot of realistic scenarios and the idea of writing a friends to lovers. It's my first attempt on this topic, and I'm thrilling to recieve any thought about it from you! I left an important hint for the future in the text by the way.
You can also send me inbox about my ff, about Bad Omens in general or headcanons! It's gonna be fun if you give me some credit ♡
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I also added a song in the beginning that should be a sort of soundtrack for the chapter. I added it to the first chapter as well if you want to check!
Lastly, if you wish to be added to my tag list, comment here or send me a pm!
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sugahyeon · 10 months
Text
So
My takes on the current candidates and their opinions:
-Cellbit isn't a good candidate. He has really good ideas, strong leadership and is massively trusted. But i think we forget a bit fast that he got kidnapped not so long ago and lost all memories of said kidnapping. We don't know what they did to him. He could be brainwashed. He could get manipulated somehow. I trust q!Cellbit but i don't trust the Federation.
-Forever could be a good candidate but rely a bit much on the Federation? His ideas are great, like the lore museum and he is a major figure of the island (N.I.N.H.O for example). But thinking the Federation will help them is really forgetting what they did in the past imo. Ik he said he'd be against them but in what lengh? If he hopes to obtain their support, he'll have to behave after their rules (he also keeps interrupting other candidates to promote his ideas which makes it seems as if he doesn't listen at anyone imo (i still love him tho))
-Mike is great during debates! Only problem is that he doesn't speak that much, probably because of the language barrier, which is really sad, genuinely, because he has great ideas as well and is overall a good candidate. Outside of the debates tho, he did say multiples times that he wanted to be a dictator sooooo, i'm not so sure KNXKZNFZ
-Felps, sadly, didn't speak much during the first debate (which is fair since it was really chaotic). I don't really have an opinion since i don't know much about his projects so feel free to fill me in!
-Gegg is so based??? He's the only one who pointed out the necessity to start everything from the beginning and to leave behind the system the federation implanted. He also is very engaged towards community, trust, transparency and communication, in order to give everyone a voice and to honor each culture. Problem is, Gegg isn't good at surviving. Voting him might result in a dead end since he could die at any given moment. He also isn't loved by most people on the island and kinda distrusted (+the whole ''we are gegg'' thing kinda sounds like a dictatorship to me for some reason..?)
-Bbh is a great candidate, all for communication, rejection of the federation and constant protection of everyone. My only major problem with him is that i don't see him bringing much change to the island. As he said himself, he wants things to stay as they were prior to the elections, which seems counter productive. Otherwise, the council idea, as well as his desire to help everyone make him one of the best candidate imo.
-Etoiles didn't speak that much sadly, so other than his desire to install more security onto the island, idk much about his program. He could be a good candidate if he allowed himself to speak out more, since he has everyone's trust and has the best gear of the server.
-Baghera is one of the best candidate imo. The council idea is really good and she's really rejective of the federation as a whole. The main difference with Bbh is that she's wants change. She wants more communication, an actual way to allow everyone to realize their project, as a community while not relying on the Federation at all.
-El Quackity is the worst candidate (lore wise). He blew up a building, trying to kill eggs AND candidates, left the debate earlier today for some reasons? And is obviously linked in some way to the Federation. He proved himself to not be trustworthy as he lied to the other characters as well as his public. He wants to reinforce the rules of the Federation, to work with them and is willing to do ANYTHING if it helps the island (which sounds good until you know he gets to decide what is best for the island on HIS OWN)
-Foolish is overall really sus recently and tried multiples times to befriend Cucurucho. He wants to be a dictator of some kind and his main goal is to favorize his family (which is cute but still a dictatorship). He's a really funny candidate tho and some of his ideas are quite good! I think he could actually be a decent candidate if he tried to be one. But he doesn't really care about getting elected soooo-
For now, this is my analysis/opinions on the candidates! Of course i didn't cover everything and i might have misunderstood some points that were made today. Don't hesitate to rectify me or to tell me your opinions!
[EDIT] I thought cellbit's white hair was a stress reaction due to his kidnapping. This got corrected in comments/reblogs
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jokatsuya · 10 months
Text
Love and immortality
Part V Part I Part II Part III Part IV
Morpheus x reader
Wordcount: 1704
Warnings: mention violence and death
Summary: (Y/n) has managed to escape from her predicament in life and is now meeting up again with the man she still doesn't know. Just when she should probably finally get an answer to his identity, unexpected events occur.
A/n: Guess who's back! Right, me :D Can we please talk about the leaks of the second season??? AAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAH Anyway, have fun with this part. Yours JoKatsuya
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1789 and I'm sitting here again in this pub, the White Horse. For four centuries now I have been meeting this stranger. One would think to have gotten to know each other, at least a little bit. But no, the only one of us who knows something about the other is the mysterious black-haired man who is sitting opposite me again. Always fashionably dressed with a well-groomed appearance. His looks are really not of a bad nature. Every single day of this last century he was more present than ever in my thoughts. Our last meeting had given me the strength to free myself from my, let's say very unfavorable, life situation. I straightened up and managed to succeed on my own, even if it meant pretending to be a man for a few years. I am not quite sure myself how that went well.
>>I heard something funny the other week. Bloke said to me, he said, "If only the French noble had played cricket with their men the way we do they'd never have had this trouble."<<, I say and close my eyes for a short moment to follow the pleasant sounds of the musicians at the other end of the hall.
>>You know, first the colonies, now France. You ask me, this country will be next for a revolution. I've been salting money away all over the world, which I hope can help me if there really is trouble here. In the meantime... I'm in the foreign trade. You just have to know how to use industrialization.<<, I say honestly before bringing the cup of tea to my mouth and taking a thoughtful sip. All the while, I feel his downright silver eyes on me. Silent, as always when I told him about something. After my initial uncertainty towards it, I have to admit to really enjoying it by now. Very few people could listen so attentively and let you talk in peace. For the normal human being the life time races only in such a way past them. Even if it felt for me also partly so, I had however much more time than this and therefore enjoyed such a conversation only too gladly.
His rosy lips slightly pressed together and with an almost indistinct look on his part, we remain silent for a while. His eyes literally bore into me and leave a shiver down my spine when he finally speaks up: >>It's a poor thing, for one man to profit from the suffering of poorer ones.<< His voice is graced by a touch of coldness.
>>I don't like the inhumane conditions in the factories either. However, it is unfortunately not in my hand to change this.<<, I defend myself sadly with lowered eyes. But he is right. Even children are not protected from the work in the factories. >>It's how it's done, sadly.<<
>>But you can do what is in your power. No matter how trivial it seems.<<, he counters with a piercing look and no emotion on his face.
>>You're giving me advice? After 400 years? But yes, I will consider it.<<, I try to cheer up the situation a bit with a small smile, even if the current topic offers nothing to laugh about. Again I take a sip of the tea, at which I must note that it has now cooled down just like the mood. A small, barely noticeable nod on his part. Change of subject!
>>I saw a production of Romeo and Juliet yesterday. I wanted to pay my respects to our mutual acquaintance after all this time. But can you imagine? The idiots had given it a happy ending. Can you believe it? This sacrifice for love's sake, just undone by such a misappropriated glossing over of the ending.<<, I talk myself into a rage angrily over this fact. I take a last sip from the cup and set it down again.
>>That will not last. The great stories will always return to their original forms.<<, the man across from me replies as a barely noticeable smile slips across his lips. It literally drew me under its spell.
>>You made some kind of deal with him, didn't you?<<, I chuckle lightly out of joy for Will and the legacy he left us. One that I hope will last forever.
>>Perhaps.<<, he confesses.
>>What kind of deal? His soul?<<, I joke, unable to suppress a growing smile. It is ironic that even today I am not one hundred percent sure whether I am really paying for my long life only with my information, or with more.
>>Nothing so crude.<<
>>Four hundred years now, I've been meeting you here and there is so much I still don't know. Who are you? Truly? What's your name?<<, I suddenly ask him again full of ambition to finally get an answer. His lips slowly open after a brief thoughtful moment.
Before he makes the slightest sound, however, a female voice behind him snaps me out of my trance-like state: >>I might ask both of you the same question.<< Both of our heads turn towards it and catch sight of a young woman. Admittedly very attractive.
>>Please, please, do not trouble yourselves to rise. These are Michael and Tobias,<< she says as she walks around the small table between the man in black and me and stops in the middle of it. >>Smugglers by trade. Altough, they're only too glad to augment their earnings by slitting thorats. If you move, they'll slit yours.<<
Trembling at her words, I have to swallow and let my eyes wander back and forth between the two men.
>>They tell of a tale in these London parts, that the Devil and the Wandering Jew meet once every century in a tavern.<<
With a quick glance in his direction, I see that my companion is doing the same. A touch of disbelief in both of our faces. She sounded very convinced of herself. As she continues and with a quick movement produces a note, we look back at her. >>Two years past, sewn into the shirt of dead man, I found this.<<, with these words she comes closer and places the note on our table. There are two people pictured at a table, on the left he and on the right...me?
>>Is that meant to be me? Oh, I look terrible, but you look worse.<<, I joke and give him a quick grinning look.
>>You return to this pub every 100 years, striking bargains with men sharing gifts, immortality, which you will now share with me.<<, she demands in a firm tone, fixing her gaze on the stranger. >>Well, have you nothing to say?<<
>>I am no Devil.<<, the stranger corrects her in a triumphant tone, the corners of his mouth slightly bent.
>>And I'm not Jewish.<<, I quickly add and grin mischievously at her.
>>Fie. What manner of creatures are you then?<<
>>Who wants to know?<<, I now want to know, but more interested in her than originally expected.
>>I'm Lady Johanna Constantine. You will both follow me. My coach is without. I can see there is so much you can tell me. So much I can learn.<<, she enthuses with a twinkle in her eye.
>>No.<<, the stranger's voice again pierces the room. Lady Constantine presses her red lips together, her brown eyes boring into him. I match her in a more subtle way with the latter. Did I expect a different answer from him? I am not quite sure.
>>No, I think not.<<, the stranger adds as he returns her gaze through his dark lashes. If he would look at me like that in another situation... I'm sure my legs would betray me. Still not amused by his words, the woman moves behind Michael and Tobias, who are now slowly approaching us. The iron blades approaching our heads.
>>Get up.<<, hisses one of the two.
Afraid that something bad might happen to us, I jump up and smash my cup against the head of one of them. This immediately shatters and causes a rain of shards. At the same time, I grab the back of his head and slam it down on the table. Straight after that I kick the other one in the middle with the heel of my shoe, which makes him groan in pain and forces him to his knees. As I turn to Constantine, I immediately take a step back as again this evening a dagger points at me. A little out of breath, I can't suppress a small gasp and look back and forth between her and the dagger.
>>Wait.<<, the dark voice sounds behind me. The chair scrapes lightly across the floor as the stranger sits up. My eyes still fixed on the blade in front of me, they widen as out of nowhere a...cloud of sand slides into Constantine's face? Her eyes slowly turn upward, her breathing heavy as she whispers: >>No.<< The dagger comes clattering to the ground before she sinks to her knees and continues: >>No, not you. I'm sorry.<<
Confused and frightened, I crouch down and look at her with concern. >>What did you do to her?<<, I confront him as I turn around.
>>She has old ghosts that I've shown to her.<<
Unsure about this whole situation, I stand up and give him a serious look. He briefly glances at the floor. >>You need not have come to my defense.<<, he asserts with the corners of his mouth curling slightly.
>>Clearly.<<, I reply with a smile, >>Still, I didn't want to be drinking alone here in 100 years' time.<< The grin he gives me is indescribable and evokes a lot of different emotions in me.
 >>I don't suppose you care to find another pub tonight?<<, I start trying to prolong our unexpectedly interrupted evening together.
>>She may have told others about our meeting. It will not be safe for you.<<
>>I'm perfectly safe. I can't die, remember?<<
>>Aye. But you can be hurt or captured. We must be cautious.<< Do I hear a hint of worry?
>>Always.<<, I take a deep breath, >>A hundred years, then?<<
>>A hundred years.<< And so we part ways again for the time to come.
Strictly do not: copy, claim or translate those stories of mine anywhere else
tags: @mikariell95 @writing-fanics
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password-door-lock · 4 months
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Saeran takes care in arranging the cheese plate, although he knows he doesn't have much reason to be so meticulous. The two of you are probably going to devour it over the course of the next few minutes— after all, both of your circadian rhythms are severely skewed after last night (or this morning, to be more precise). The RFA party ran late, and then, despite the hour, the other members wanted to spend a bit of quality time together as a group. After that, of course, the pair of you had to make the trek from the party hall in the city to your marital home in the countryside. Saeran drove, and though he assured you that he wouldn't mind it if you fell asleep, you insisted on staying awake with him, playing silly driving games until the two of you were safely in the house. After getting into your respective pajamas and brushing your respective teeth, you and Saeran fell asleep sometime around three in the morning. 
The two of you only woke up about an hour ago, ravenous, as anyone would expect, and now, here you are, combining forces to throw together a low-effort lunch. “Honey, if I sliced up an apple, would you eat it?” You ask. You threw on one of Saeran’s sweaters after getting out of bed, but otherwise, you’re still in your pajamas. This makes you look even cuter than you normally would, leaning on the counter and staring contemplatively at a basket of apples. 
Saeran regards you fondly. “I think most people just eat apples whole, don’t they, my love?” He can’t help but tease you a little. After all, you’re just so adorable.
“I don't think most people put whole apples on their charcuterie trays,” you grumble, though your eyes shine despite your apparent annoyance. Saeran can tell that you’re just making a production of it, trying to entertain him— and, to your credit, it’s working.  “What about tomatoes?”
“Anything is fine,” Saeran assures you, carefully slicing the mild brie that he picked up a few days ago in anticipation of this exact event. After the last RFA party, he learned that neither one of you is really up for cooking a proper meal the next day.  “It's like we're having a picnic,” he muses. Granted, it’s the middle of winter, so it won’t be possible to have your lunch outside, but this is the same kind of food that Ray would have prepared if he’d ever been able to set up that picnic he promised you back at Magenta. 
You grin. “In our pajamas?” 
“Hm.” Saeran looks down at his oversized T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Although he can’t say that this was a factor of his original picnic fantasy, now that he’s actually living it, he is largely  unconcerned with what the two of you are wearing. He's happy to be comfortable, after all, and he's even happier to see you equally comfortable. “I guess so.”
“That's a great idea,” you decide, placing a pair of whole apples on the plate with the cherry tomatoes and blueberries, despite your earlier reservations. “I'll go get a blanket. We can eat on the floor.” Now Saeran understands— the ambiance of your indoor picnic is more important to you than the aesthetic quality of the charcuterie board. Truth be told, he can’t help but agree, especially considering how excited you sound.
Saeran returns your grin. There's never a dull moment with you, that's for sure. “I've never had an indoor picnic before.” It's not something that he ever would have thought of before he met you. Honestly, he spent so long daydreaming about that specific picnic in the garden that now, he cannot divorce the idea of a picnic from the image that he created in his mind. He’s glad that you can see the situation from a different angle. 
“There's a first time for everything,” you call from the living room, where you are setting up a picnic blanket on top of the rug. “Maybe somebody’ll write a book about us or something.” 
“Maybe you're right, my love,” Saeran calls back, carefully arranging the cheese on the plate. “We’re innovators, aren’t we?” As he does every time he takes a moment to reflect, Saeran finds that he feels thankful to be by your side.
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moriahwritez · 1 year
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Last drop in Zaun (Sevika x Reader)
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(Quite Mature Content. No sexual themes. But does consider smoking a bit and romantic parts).
Hello guys!!! I'm back for more. I just finish this story rn. And so glad to finally post something. Please enjoy 🤭
*Also, here's music while reading it for more experiences :3*
The Undercity of Zaun has always been extremely dangerous. And what I mean is, things does happen every now and then. Even when you make your way of experiencing a whole different place. It could be scarier doing this on your own. Their were city of crimes and businesses around you. You did your best to cover yourself and pretend to be part of Zaun. This isn't like your home where you can be shown easily. City of Zaun don't play games, when a new guest enters. Unless their were Enforcers. But, you weren't one. Just one of those escapers who decides to leave their town and have freedom for themselves. People started staring, while walking pass you. Could see eyes watching, as you already know in your head that you might get caught immediately. So, you walk a bit faster away from them, until you made at the Last Drop. You open the door to see people dancing with loud- booming music. You try to get towards the counter where the bartender is, but everyone were packed. "Crap, How am I suppose to get over there?" You asked yourself. Moving backward, you flinched to feel someone. She looks down on you. "So, have you flirted anyone in this bar, yet?" You gasped, turning around. You see Sevika smoking her cigarette, while staring. You've been best friends with Sevika for the past two years. And it was coming to the point that you was here to find her. "Thank goodness. And no I wasn't...I was just looking for you to see if you were at the front of the counter already." Sevika took out her cigarette. "Well, you already found me, sweetheart. Come on," replied Sevika holding your hand. Couple of folks saw her coming through, so they were pushed to the side. They know about Sevika being a regular in the brothel and Silco's assistant. So you would have to follow her steps before you ended up getting beaten afterwards. Yikes. You and Sevika got to the counter and watched the bartender pour down drinks on each glass. You sat next to Sevika, but she grabs you quickly. One of her arm that's mechanic, she pats it on her lap. "You should sit close to me, so I can look out for you." You blush when she says that. You chuckled and sat on her spot. She pulls you towards her gently and places her chin on the side of your shoulder. You could smell the smoke coming from her mouth. But, the cologne or whatever product she used to smell so darn good made you enjoy her scent. The bartender finishes up both your drinks. You and Sevika makes a "CLINK" sound of the glass. Then, she gave you a wink while drinking. The two of you had a wonderful time together. No issues. Nothing. You were safe with Sevika, like she was your guardian knight. "Your so beautiful, Y/N," said Sevika. She leans closer to you. You stare at her lips, slowly moving closer. Few minutes later, you slide your hands in Sev's hair behind the bar. You whispered. "It's getting dark already. Should we head to your place or somewhere-" and Sevika answers by kissing you more. She doesn't want this moment to stop. She wants to enjoy you even more by making out all alone. Maybe being in Zaun wasn't that bad after all. :)
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3mutantsinatrenchcoat · 7 months
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Juicy jury angst
@angelpuns owns Eugene (no hate towards him PLEASE, I wrote this on my own and with permission to show Eugene angry)
Don't worry guys! They are still family, just having a little bit of a fight
Tw/cw: cigarettes, fighting, dissociation, alot of guilt (from three), slight descriptions of feeling like body melting, Three not taking accountability for half of the story
Hurt no comfort
---
Now, he will admit he is a thief. He steals from big Mama, he steals from yokai, people on the street, stores…anything shiney he can get his hands on. His greedy little hands.
If he could, Three would probably steal candy right from a baby. Not because he is mean, not because he is evil. Simply put he doesn't understand the world, he sees people have things he thinks people he cares about should have…and,...well. He takes them.
He usually never steals from those close to him but his boss, Eugene…well, he wouldn't let him have something. And he wanted to be just like him, but stores won't let him buy it and he can't get behind the counters so he went into his room.
He snatched the plastic lighter and the carton of cigarettes and sat in the middle of the room. He struggled to strike the lighter before he decided to use the flames coming from his jaw to light it.
It didn't take long for the smell of the bitter smoke to fill the air in the room. He didn't have a lower jaw but he did his best to copy how he remembered Eugene using them, breathing in….
And oh that BURNT. It burnt his throat and his chest, leaving him coughing it up, only adding the burn to his nose hole and the roof of his top jaw, some of the smoke coming out from his eye sockets.
Three cringed at it, he didn't understand how Eugene could do it. But Eugene was cool and strong so of course he had to do it too!
Eugene would never do anything that's purposely bad for him! So maybe it's just a new experience he had to live through.
He never saw Saturn do it, or Ra. Only Eugene and a few of the guards off at the hotel.
Or the people in their fancy get ups and makeup and masks, hair heavily sprayed with hair products and longer cigarettes that smell even worse than these ones.
But what hurt more was when Eugene found him not even a few minutes later. He could see the anger in his flames as they raised a little higher. He could feel the anger through his stomps, how he snatched the cigarettes out of his hand, how his voice sounded rougher as he screamed at him.
He couldn't hear what Eugene was saying, it was as if he tuned it out. It wasn't intentional he just…couldn't. It was as if Eugene was screaming at him from under water. He just…couldn't hear him.
He could only hear bits and pieces of it as Eugene took the items from his hands.
"DON'T TOUCH MY SHIT"
"LITTLE CROOK"
"GET OUT!"
It wasn't everything he said but it's what he caught onto the most. He starts zoning back into the conversation as Eugene grabs him by the arms and takes him out the room, firmly planting him outside the door before slamming it shut.
Three turns and looks at the door, frustration growing in his chest. Eugene could smoke so why couldn't he!? And so what if he touched them he was going to buy a new pack next time he went out!
He gets up and storms to his room. He doesn't even know what Eugene said, he doesn't. He knows three sentences. So it isn't like he can just figure out exactly what to say when Eugene calms down.
He closes his door and climbs onto his bed. He hated this, when they fought. Not…not play fought like genuinely fought. When the two would get angry and snap at each other and walk away. Sure they would be okay later but…this time it felt different, it felt worse.
It didn't help that the frequency from Eugene was off, it felt angry. It felt…somehow worse than how Big Mama's angry was.
What was he to do…what could he do?...
Nobody was home, he wouldn't be allowed down the stairs because of the baby gate…he doesn't know what exactly got Eugene so mad about it. I mean he knew that taking the cigarettes was bad, but it isn't like half the gifts he gives them aren't stolen! He's never gotten in trouble with it before so why was he now?..
Not only that Mama Saturn and RA were out in town for the whole day…so what could he do. He couldn't ask them what to do.
He didn't like this, his throat still burned, his chest hurt and his hands hurt. He didn't like this, he sat there in silence staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever.
He gets up and hops off the bed, heading down the hall to Eugene's room, he turns the handle and opens it, seeing the baby gate put between him and the room.
"Eugene I wanna sit in there with you" he looks at him sitting at his desk. He watched Eugene glances at him and then go right back to what he was doing.
"Eugene! I want to sit in there remove it-" he pushes on the baby gate.
He huffs and watches Eugene through the bars before he tries to climb it, struggling. "Eugene! Are you still mad!" He huffs and grunts as he slips and lands back on the floor.
He huffs and looks between the gate at Eugene, who still ignored him. Three felt the hurt in his hands get worse as he stands up and sticks his arm through it. "Eugene!.."
He couldn't get to him, he hated this. He wanted to be in there with him like he usually is. He grunts as he tries to reach him, even though Eugene was a good few feet away.
"Brother!" He shouts at him, his voice cracking with desperation before Eugene stood up. Three's tail wags slightly and he backs up to be let in only for Eugene to reach over the baby gate and slam the door, without so much as a look at him.
His tail slowly stops and he stares at the door, blinking a few times.
"... Eugene..?.." his voice cracks slightly, he must have really pissed him off now. He didn't understand, all he did was try to be like HIM. What was wrong about that? He knew it wasn't taking the cigarettes because he's from other people before.
He looks at the stairs and notices the gate was moved from there to Eugene's door. He looks back at the door and tries to open it only to hear the clicking of the lock protesting.
Eugene locked him out. He never locks him out. Three slowly heads back to his room, hugging himself. He must have really messed up…and this time he didn't know how to fix it.
He didn't know what to do, he messed up so bad that his brother won't even look at him. Was Eugene mad about him calling him that? Was that why Eugene was mad?
Thoughts flood into his little skull as he tries to figure out what needs to be fixed, he can fix it he swears he can. He doesn't want to end up back at that void if he can't fix it. It's COLD.
It's cold and he doesn't have anyone there. But if he can't fix it...
No, no it's okay. Three has to reassure himself. Because Big Mama has the bracelet, not Eugene.
Speak of the devil and he shall arrive because as soon as he thought about her he felt the center of chest squeeze. He gasps slightly and takes a few steps to his bed before the squeezing tightens, his legs crumble quickly and he drops to the floor, his flames dying quickly and dripping into liquid on the floor, he swore he felt half his face melting, even though it wasn't.
He couldn't feel Eugene's frequency, and it scared him but as soon as the grip loosened it was right back to where it was, thrumming through the floor and the air.
He gasps softly as tears build up, he feels nauseous. The liquid slowly stops dripping and goes back to the fine mist then back to the flames.
He had to get ready to go. He would be gone a whole week…and. He needed to talk to Eugene right now.
He couldn't leave Big Mama waiting but he couldn't leave Eugene mad. He slowly gets back to his feet and walks back to Eugene's door. He hesitates before knocking. "Eugene?..."
No answer. So he tries again…still no answer.
Final time, Eugene swung the door open, his hands shaking. "Three, leave me the fuck alone. I don't want to see you right now"
Three hesitates before looking at him. "I gotta-"
"I don't care!" Eugene drags his hand down his face in annoyance before huffing. "Leave me alone, you stole from me. I can't TRUST you right now."
Three stares at him, realizing he was in trouble for taking the cigarettes. He didn't get a chance to respond before the door shut again.
And just like that three felt the warm tears building up, he messed up. He messed up and there was no time to fix it. He slowly turns and walks down the stairs, hand on the wall.
He had to leave, to go fight and he didn't even know if Eugene would text him at all while he was gone. Would he even care?...would he pick him up at the end of the road?
Three walks out the house and lets in a shaky breath. While he is gone…he can go find something to fix it. And when he gets home…all will be better.
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bubblesandgutz · 4 months
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Every Record I Own - Day 807: The Rolling Stones Hackney Diamonds
This marks the end of my Stones posts. And given their age, this album may come to mark the end of The Stones as a recording entity. And as far as I'm concerned, we're going out on a high note.
Even the diehards will admit that The Rolling Stones peaked decades ago. And the diehards will also probably agree that by the time the '80s were in full swing, The Stones were a legacy act with little new to offer. No one is gonna canonize Undercover or Dirty Work. There were still hints of their magic sprinkled throughout their work through the '90s and into the first half of the '00s, but really, people held onto their love for The Stones based on their earlier classics and their continuing reputation for putting on a solid live show.
Maybe there was some sort of creative rut for the Stones. Some loss of purpose. Some struggle to hold onto their original sound while moving forward. I've been playing music long enough to know the tricky balance of pleasing the old fans while keeping things fresh and exciting. The Stones had become a nostalgia brand, and that brand generated a lot of money. Were they putting out new albums to keep the merchandising and ticket-selling machine in the public eye? Or was there some genuine creative joy embedded in those later records that just wasn't translating? Everyone knows Mick and Keith's friendship deteriorated over the years. Was that rift behind the waning quality of their albums?
And then there's the big question: did the world need a new Stones album in 2023? It'd been eighteen years since their last batch of new material. While there were defenders of A Bigger Bang (2005), it didn't convince anyone that the band was back in top form.
I was skeptical. But on a long solo drive across Eastern Oregon last fall, I decided to give Hackney Diamonds a listen. I'd already listened to Exile on the drive, followed it up with Tattoo You, and figured this might actually be my last chance to listen to a brand new Rolling Stones album while they were still active. I put on Hackney Diamonds as I drove across the high desert and, to my surprise, it sounded fucking great.
No Stones album has ever hit me on first listen until Hackney Diamonds. The band doesn't try to do anything new. The production is big and shiny, but it still sounds like a real band. Jagger doesn't address our tumultuous world like he might have back in the '60s, and maybe the album's odes to turbulent relationships are a little simplistic. But maybe there's actually more there than we hear on that first listen. Are "Angry" and "Bite My Head Off" just your typical songs about having a spat with a lover? Or is it about battling the public's expectations? Is "Depending On You" another forlorn love song? Or is it actually a plea to Richards?
Curiosity also drove me to read the Pitchfork review for Hackney Diamonds, who unsurprisingly shat on the band for "acting their image rather than their age." The remaining paragraphs go on to rail against a wealthy band wringing more money out of middle aged men. I'd counter that people as rich as Jagger and Richards don't really need to take the time to write another album and take another year off from their private lives to go on tour just to be a little bit richer in their eighties. And pandering to middle aged men seems no less noble than pandering to the twenty-something youth market that Pitchfork depends on for advertising revenue (and hate to break it to ya, Pitchfork, but your initial fanbase is middle aged now).
Is it shameful to grow old? Is it shameful for Mick and Keith to keep doing the thing they've done for 60 years? Is it shameful to love what you do and to try to hold onto it for as long as possible? Sure, maybe at some point the magic ebbed away, but the band always had their highs and lows. And if Mick and Keith drifted apart, perhaps the passing of Charlie Watts reminded them that their days were numbered, and they could either pack it in and become mired in the rusty stasis of old age, or they could go out in a blaze of glory.
I refuse to think art and music are creative pursuits that only belong to the young. Sure, I wanna hear music made by excited young people, but I also wanna hear music made by people my age. And I also want to hear music made by people with decades of experience who know exactly what they want, exactly how to do it, and how to have a fucking blast in process.
And that's exactly what Hackney Diamonds sounds like. If the story ends here, then it provides a satisfying narrative arc to the history of The Stones. Excellent work, Glimmer Twins.
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rebelsofshield · 7 months
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You had something maybe, maybe months ago, or a year ago, about how some fans are creatures of comfort. You didn't use that exact term but that's what I'm going with. It was in response to this ask about Din and being a leader I know this is going to sound awful, but I do think it's a bit strange that some fans can't just accept story progression. You said it's because they don't view it through a narrative lens, which I agree with But it does make me go insane that they just want to stay in this status quo bubble of Din being a wandering dad. Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with that, but to me it's like, don't they want to see him be more than that, do more than that? I know certain people would defend this by saying, "Din's not a leader!" and another can counter this by saying, "You're right, he's not, but his story can be about him learning to become one." This is mostly me venting
I think there is a general desire among a lot of fan communities to see characters they've become attached to only go through stories that are easy or comforting. Some of this I feel is due to the development of parasocial relationships with characters in media. People come to care about Din and what makes them happy is to see him exist in an easy or domestic lifestyle because to them that would be like checking in on a friend and seeing that they are happy and doing alright. I think this is also a key motivating factor in fan fiction as a whole. It allows you to continue revisiting characters in scenarios that official narratives do not and often times those are very lowstakes and emotionally soothing stories.
Additionally, there's a large amount of people that just turn to media like Star Wars for escapist entertainment. When they go to the theater or open Disney+, they want to see narratives that are exciting and full of spectacle, but don't make them uncomfortable. They want characters who are cool and likable doing cool things that never lead to experiencing genuine pain or becoming less likable. There's a part of me that understands this desire. We live in a very stressful, scary world and many see Star Wars as their way to step away from reality for a little bit of time. It lets them catch up on characters they care about and see some imaginative imagery.
The issue is that this sort of narrative is ultimately sort of empty. Its a fast food burger that dependably tastes the same regardless of where in the world you order it. You get what you wanted going in. But that's not art. That's not story. That's product. There may be artistry involved in creating said product, but the product itself doesn't want to do anything other than sustain its existence and continue providing similar feelings to the people who want it.
The issue is that Star Wars can be and has been more and is stuck in this consistent battle throughout its existence on how it wants to be product and how it wants to be art. You swing too far one way or another and you end up causing a firestorm. The Mandalorian to me seems to be a series that has at least some aspirations on being art or at least telling a story, but all too often feels compelled to return to its roots as a product. Its why you get big character changes for Din that are ultimately undone or seasons that function as guest star conveyor belts.
And I don't know, I don't even think there's something inherently wrong with Star Wars "the product." I love being served a little nostalgia or comfort every now and then, but eventually I start wanting something with a bit more flavor or thought? And sometimes that means making me a little uncomfortable or challenging my expectations.
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undergrounddweller89 · 8 months
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Acylius was nursing yet another cocktail at some lonely bar, the place was lit in an amber colour , his demeanor wasn't exactly approachable, he blocked out the sounds of idle chatter in the back his tail feathers looked like a black coat draped over the back of the barstool he was sitting on.
Even the barman could tell this demon didn't want to talk he quietly cleaned glasses and waited for whatever orders would come next from the clients that were there.
If Acylius had to hear one more person ASKING if he would buy them a drink he was going to lose it.
He was tired , no he wasn't just tired he was exhausted, always putting others first , always making sure they felt okay , did anyone ask how he was? HA what to say to that, Black Hat was always at work and at the first sign of work would go running to it, making sure work was going well first ...where did that leave him in the list of priorities because not ONCE in their relationship had he EVER put him first not fucking once.
He slammed the glass down claws digging into the oak counter of the bar and recieving a look from the bar man who glanced at the broken glass and counter top.
Acylius sighed and waved his clawed hand the items immediately repaired themselves.
"Sorry.... another please?"
He asked softly as he held out his glass, the bar man stared, it was almost strange to see a nine foot legion demon seem meek, still he made another one and put an extra shot in it, seemed the poor guy really needed a pick me up.
Acylius's feathers ruffled as someone sat on the bar stool next to him, his beak tensed enough to grind , with a squeak similar to that of grinding teeth, he swore if this person asked him to buy them a drink he was gonna -
"Hey there sexy, mind if I get you a drink?"
Acylius turned to look at him all four black eyes blinking at the man with heterochromia, one green eye one blue with probably enough product in his hair not even a gale force wind could blow it out of place.
"I'm not single."
Acylius replied but his voice didn't really imply loyalty, not after everything not after all the times he'd been left behind, work was Hat's priority not him.
Acylius leaned in
"But that doesn't mean I'm not available, are you willing to make me feel special just for one night.... what's your name?"
The man bit his bottom lip ooooh the power just running through this demon made him tingle, he hadn't expected this to actually work
"Handsome Jack and you are?"
"Acylius Flug...and you live up to your name...shall we go?"
Acylius purred picking Jack up bridal style
"HELL YES...and pumpkin I'm gonna make you feel special all night long."
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Pictures just to show what Acylius looks like
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