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slttygeto · 7 months

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°˖➴ when your baby …— (JJK MEN)

જ⁀➴ featuring: nanami kento, kamo choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru and gojo satoru.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,6k

જ⁀➴ tags: fluff, pregnancy, birth, babies, domestic jjk men, they're all your husbands, them being perfect.

જ⁀➴ note: not proofread, some of these are a bit unrealistic, but keep in mind that it's fiction and i don't have a baby.

°˖➴ when your baby smiles for the first time: [nanami kento]

Birth was a blessing in itself, but having a partner as supportive as Kento made everything worth it, down to the sleepless nights you have been spending trying to get used to your baby’s constant need to be cuddled, fed and taken care of. You were frustrated, it was pretty evident by the tears welling up in your eyes every two seconds along with how you simply refused to be near anyone but your baby and Kento. Thankfully, he was always the one coaxing you to get out of the bed and sit on the balcony, have a full meal and relax while he took care of the baby.

On the outside, it seemed as though Kento had everything under control, and that nothing could affect him as long as you were okay. He never cried when you did (beside when he held the baby for the first time), and he made sure to validate your every frustration and fear, all while telling you that everything will be okay.

Which brings us to this moment, with both of you sitting on the couch with your baby on his lap. One of your favorite things about these nights was that Kento never skipped them and always made sure to play with your baby for a bit before helping you put her to bed. Even when he was incredibly exhausted.

Kento rocked your baby back and forth, enjoying the happy and curious noises leaving your daughter’s mouth. Your husband’s pointer was gently tracing her face, humming a soft tune about how adorable she was all while helping her be more aware of her body.

“And those are your eyes,” his tired voice came out. “And this is your nose,” accompanied with a boop, “and those are your precious cheeks,” a laugh escaped his lips when your daughter seemed to try to escape from the ticklish feeling of his finger and you chuckled at the scene. Your happiness was so contagious that your daughter’s lips twitched and a giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh,” Kento paused his movements but it only seemed to make your daughter giggle even more. “Look at you,” a smile broke on your husband’s face and he leans down to brush his nose against hers. “Is daddy your favorite comedian already?” And the louder her giggles got, the harder it was for your husband to contain his own laughter. He throws his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, and when he leans back down towards your baby girl, her smile only gets bigger and bigger.

You bring your legs up to your chest and watch the scene unfold with a heart full of love and adoration for your husband and the human being you both created. And when Nanami notices your silence, he supports his baby girl’s head with one hand and reaches his free hand towards your leg to caress it.

“Are you okay, darling?” To which you flash him with a smile that Kento could only describe as one that filled his heart to the brim.

“Never been better.”

°˖➴ when your baby first rolls over: [kamo choso]

You were well aware of how anxious and easily nervous your husband could get. Throughout your entire pregnancy, you were never allowed to be even a foot away from him. On a normal day, you would’ve asked for personal space, but lucky Choso, your pregnancy hormones seemed to make you even more attached to him.

Now that your baby boy was here, all of that anxiety and nervousness was doubled. Instead of worrying about one person and a bump, Choso had to make sure you and your baby were both okay all while trying not to tire himself to stay awake for you two. Night feeds were usually his favorite time of the day, despite your tired self and the sleepiness on your face, watching you try to hold your baby while feeding him always made him lean towards you and press a kiss to your forehead.

Your baby was about three months old when Choso started becoming even more involved with diaper and outfit changing. Not that he didn’t want to at the beginning, you were always far too nervous to let him do anything unsupervised. Your baby was currently on the bed while his father reached for the outfit that he laid out for him. And while Choso was always super careful, you had called out his name before walking into the room and so he turns his head to the door and is confused when you’re wide eyed and staring at the bed.

“What?”

“Look- the baby, Choso!” He turns to stare at his son and is pleasantly surprised when he notices that his son had fully rolled over and was now on his stomach. Your husband doesn’t say a thing as your baby makes noises, almost complaining to you both that he wasn’t seeing you and that his muscles were still too weak to support his head, so Choso rolls him on his back and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“…don’t you think it’s too soon for him to try to leave mid-conversation?”

“Baby,” you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“He’s moving too quickly! What do you mean he was able to roll over?” Your husband complains and he slowly dresses up your son.

“It just means our baby is healthy and functioning well.”

“Yeah,” Choso says softly before picking up your baby. “Our baby.”

°˖➴ when your baby starts crawling: [fushiguro toji]

Toji always thought that he didn’t deserve a second chance at life. He simply thought it was too late to start over, that was until he met you and you made him realize that ‘too late’ didn’t really have a place in your dictionary. You made him experience everything all over again; from falling in love to raising two healthy babies along with Megumi and Tsumiki. You gave him a second chance at being a father all while helping him fix his relationship with his kids.

You always made sure to help Tsumiki and Megumi with their homework while Toji stayed with your baby boy and baby girl. He would sit on the floor and watch as they struggled to even hold up their heads and try to reach for him.

“Come on now, I know you can do it,” Toji held the toy your baby boy was whining to his father to give him, and your husband was very stubborn about what his kids were capable of. Tsumiki and Megumi were already excelling at different sports and even academically, and despite you trying to convince your husband that your babies were only six months old, he wouldn’t listen.

Shifting his attention from his son to his daughter, he reaches for the toy in her hands and slowly takes it away from her. He watches as a pout forms on her lips and her eyes get teary almost immediately, and Toji has never believed in mother instinct as much as right now, because you burst out of the study room at the same time as your baby girl crying.

“Toji,” your disappointed tone as you walked towards the scene made the man turn back towards his babies.

“I just think they should be crawling by now.”

“They need time baby,” you step behind him and look over your baby girl who was trying to rub her teary eyes. “You can try by setting it in front of her, then she can try reaching for it.”

Your husband does as he is told and completely forgets about his son’s toy. Too focused on getting your daughter to move towards her toy, he fails to notice his son slowly crawling towards him to retrieve the small item sitting next to him but you do.

“Oh!” your gasp catches your husband’s attention and he immediately notices his son. “Come on baby! Good job!” Toji doesn’t waste time and turns back towards your daughter, gently coaxing her into moving towards her toy.

“Come on baby girl, come on,” it is very rare for Toji to be smiling so softly but whenever he was with his kids, his cheeks would end up hurting him from smiling too much.

Your daughter’s attention quickly shifts towards the person that walks out of the study room, and when her eyes fall on Megumi, a giggle escapes her lips and she starts moving towards her older brother. You and Toji watch in awe as Megumi sits cross legged on the floor and talks very softly to his baby sister, words of encouragement leaving his lips as your baby girl stops a couple of times and whines at the difficult task at hand.

“Just a bit more, come on,” But once in Megumi’s arms, the boy holds her carefully before walking back towards you and his dad. Toji stands up with his younger son in his arms before patting Megumi’s head.

“Good job, boy. You did well.” To which Megumi responds to with a shy nod before handing you his baby sister.

Moments like these sure made it feel like everything in life was worth it.

°˖➴ when your baby says their first word: [geto suguru]

You never knew you could fall in love twice until you saw your husband become a father to your beautiful baby girls. Not only was he supportive, which was obviously the bare minimum, he still managed to be present for all three of his girls at the same time. The girls were obsessed with their father, and rightfully so, but something you truly admired about your husband was that he made sure to include himself during their play time.

And despite your attempts at convincing him that play time meant playing with dolls and plushies, Suguru was adamant on teaching his little girls very interesting words that had their tiny eight month old brains almost short circuit.

“Sugu, easy there. They can’t possibly know what pontificate means.” You say followed with a low chuckle, watching as the man sat down on the floor with his legs spread wide open for his two girls to sit in the space there and glance at the book their father was holding.

“My girls are smart like their parents,” your husband says with a serious look on his face. “I need their first words to be something smart, something big…”

“I need something that screams Beyoncé,” you say jokingly and your husband shoots you a playful glare.

“Be serious.”

You squat in front of your baby girls and it immediately shifts their attention from the book Suguru was holding and you smile at that. You instinctively open your arms and wait for them to crawl towards you, but instead one of the girls looks back at Suguru and waits for him to look down at her.

“Mama,” your little girl turns to her sister before staring at you and starts crawling towards you and your jaw almost touches the floor.

“Did you just say mama?”

“Mamama,” your other daughter mimics her sister and tries to escape Suguru’s hold, but he catches her in his arms and his happiness seems to be a lot more obvious than yours.

“Yeah baby, that’s mama! She said mama, did you hear that?” You grab your baby girl who was crawling towards you and grin at your husband.

“Didn’t you say you wanted their first word to be something big?”

“You’re their everything, so it is something big.” There was no doubt that you picked the right person to father your children.

°˖➴ when your baby starts walking: [gojo satoru]

You’ve always known that your baby was going to be as hyper as Satoru. Ever since he was in the womb, your baby would not stop moving and kicking, it even resulted in him almost wrapping the umbilical cord around his neck but thankfully, the birth went great and he came out as healthy as ever.

Despite being so sure that the baby would be a carbon copy of his father, your baby boy ended up taking your every facial feature. Satoru couldn’t deny that he wished his baby had his white hair, but something about having a second human looking exactly like you melted his heart. But that was literally the only thing the baby had about you, just the looks. Because God, was he an active baby.

He was holding his head up and rolling on his stomach faster than you had expected, and since Satoru loved to test his boy’s limits, your baby ended up crawling soon after. Not even two months later, your baby was saying his first words and all you could do was nod and smile as people told you how unique your baby was, and a part of you could only wish that you would shelter him from all the attention he was getting. But he was a Gojo, and stuff like this was bound to happen.

But the moment your husband noticed your discomfort, he immediately stopped accepting people when they asked to come over. He was excited to become a father, but it wouldn’t be the same if it meant robbing you of the same place that was supposed to bring you comfort.

And apparently, only he could keep up with his son’s hyper self. Crawling from corner to corner, squealing in excitement and tossing his toys around, Satoru even encouraged his son to grab onto the couch and crawl around the space that was heavily baby-proofed.

“Ah, you’re so eager to walk, aren’t you?” Satoru teases his son as he tries to hold onto the couch and stand up. With a little bit of support on his bum, your baby managed to stand up but freezes there and turns his head to the side where his father was staring at him.

“What, are you scared? It’s not so fun anymore, hm?” Your husband teases your son who seems to be taking his father’s words not very well. He pouts and rests his head on the couch, refusing to look at his dad and Satoru laughs out loud.

“Come on, I was only joking, you’re good at everything just like your dad.” You eventually walk down the stairs and you raise an eyebrow at your pouting eleven month old son.

“What did you do?” you immediately pin the blame onto your husband who gasps and puts a hand on his chest.

“I didn’t do anything!” He pats your son’s bum as your baby’s wobbly legs try to move him around the couch and towards you. “He stood up and got scared, and I found it funny.”

“Oh baby,” you squat down to your baby’s level and reach out your hands to grab him. “Papa is so mean, isn’t he?”

“Am not,” Satoru rolls his eyes but he watches as your son reaches the end of the couch and hesitates to let go. You lock eyes with your baby, and your husband thinks it’s a beautiful example of mothers and babies silently communicating, because no words were exchanged yet your baby knew to trust you completely.

He doesn’t fall into your arms but instead, he pushes himself away from the couch and takes a very small step towards you. You try not to gasp in surprise, and you wait as he takes another step—then another, and another before falling in your embrace and both you and Satoru are wide eyed and surprised at what just happened.

“He just—“

“He walked!” Your husband jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your baby in his arms. “My son is one of a kind! I’m telling you, he will win a nobel prize—“

Satoru always found a way to be excited about any of his son’s milestones.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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sigmoon · 6 months

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my question might be random but do you think canon Nikolai would have a relationship with someone younger or in their teens? and how the relationship might be?

have a good day 🤍

I can hardly imagine canon Nikolai in a relationship at all, unfortunately, but hear me out.

I think he could develop feelings for someone, but that’s the problem, since canon Nikolai wants to free himself from being “imprisoned” by his emotions, and loving someone or even being in a relationship with them would mean that he’d lose a bit of this freedom he so desperately wants.

Trying to get Nikolai to be in a relationship with you would be a wild ride and a lot of work. You’d need so much patience and if he doesn’t deeply love you, it wouldn’t work.

But maybe, if you were to show him how much it means to you and that you’re willing to work through his struggles with him, trying to find another solution for his need for freedom rather than ridding himself of human emotions, he would try to make an effort as well, but only if he’s really in love.

About the “younger than him” part— he definitely wouldn’t be as reckless as my degenerate loser version of Nikolai. He would be okay with someone a few years younger than him, but a teen…I can’t imagine he’d be interested, at least not beyond sexual attraction or sympathy.

He’s 26, and honestly, he could hardly have a true romantic connection to someone that much younger than him, which is pretty normal. This might work in fiction, but in real life, it’s a bit unrealistic. The differences in emotional maturity and their lifestyles would simply be too big, and no matter how attracted he might be to someone younger, I don’t think he’d want to be with them romantically.

#bungou stray dogs #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol smut #bsd nikolai #chit chat #anons<3 #bsd #thirsts #🕊️

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alpaca-clouds · 13 days

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Accessibility for Neurodivergence and Mental Health

Okay, let's talk a bit more about accessibility in worldbuilding - especially in terms of making a world more accessible to neurodivergent people and folks who struggle with their mental health.

Now, let me start with one thing: While we obviously do not know a lot of how neurodivergent people lived in historical times - especially given that the concept was not around back then - but it is generally believed that especially for people with ADHD and a variety of forms of Autism live was actually a lot better, because a lot of out issues are closely linked with the fact that our brains do not do "9 to 5 work in an office". This is not true for all of us, but for quite a few. There is also some autistic people were seen a valuable for some of their unique traits.

It should at this point also be noted that in general it is also believed that in medieval societies people did work less than they do these days. (Around 30 hours a week.) Which also will be a lot more bearable for a lot of people with both neurodivergent brains and generally mental health struggles. Especially as outdoor work will also be considered easier for a lot of folks. Hence there is a chance that in a medieval setting for example folks might need a bit less in terms of accessibility, as their needs are generally already met.

That said, accessibility for a lot of neurodivergent people means first and foremost to create spaces for retreat. Meaning: Some sort of space or room, where folks can unwire. Soft, and dimmed light, maybe some good place to sit down, silence or alternative very soft noises. To allow for those places in public spaces and work places is just important for neurodivergent folks.

Of course, this is a bit less pressing in a setting where people are already in nature all the time. But especially science fiction settings this can be a big need.

Also important for a science fiction setting especially: Spaces that allow neurodivergent people to control their environment to some degree. Which means especially in terms of noise and lighting.

A general accessibility need that would also help pretty much everyone, is less working hours for everyone. As I said: Generally it is believed that in medieval times folks did not work more than 30 hours a week on average, so anything else would be unrealistic (outside of the sowing and harvest times). And if we are talking about a science fiction future, it should be assumed that a lot of processes can be automated. This goes specifically if we are talking something like a Solarpunk future, where we are going to assume that capitalism has ended, so stuff being automated is actually a good thing, because people do not need to work for a living.

Something that a lot of people also do overlook in terms of mental health needs, is green spaces. Our stupid monkey brains crave seeing nature and being surrounded by nature. It does improve our mental health. (Which also is, why in Cyberpunk we definitely should talk abotu the ongoing mental health crisis, that most cyberpunk stories do not really mention...)

And of course just some general accessibility needed would be... more and easier access to information about all the different t hings. I mean, a lot of the issues that both neurodivergent folks and folks with mental health issues have to deal with are prejudices. And those prejudices originate with the fact that folks in general are just not very well educated on those topics. In fact there is a general bias against all those things, partly stemming from prejudice, partly from people just never having learned how to deal with people that are not neurotypical.

Not to mention that more education on this would also help people in question to learn that they are not really weird, but just not neurotypical.

Once again, if you have anything to add, feel free!

#disability #disability rights #accessibility #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #mental health #autism #adhd #audhd #scifi #science fiction #clifi #fantasy #historical setting #solarpunk #lunarpunk

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claymorexpunisher · 2 months

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Liberación (Ch.10/?) (Rewritten) (18+ Fic)

Disclaimer/Warning: If you've been keeping up with this fic, no you're not losing your minds. I decided to rewrite this chapter because I felt like I had previously sped things up a bit too much between Harper and Damian. Sooo, please don't fight me? lmao! Fight fictional!Damian for being stupid instead... This is purely a work of fiction. I try to do proper research whenever I write pieces that have to do with BDSM/Kink, but alas, I am not perfect. For fiction's sake, some aspects of BDSM and Kink will be a bit unrealistic and maybe even rushed, though I know that the foundation for these types of connections and dynamics to function properly, takes time... Feel free to leave me any feedback on areas of improvement. And if you wish to be untagged, please let me know. If this isn’t your kinda story, scroll on by. This is a long chapter so, happy reading! 🖤

Summary: Harper and Drew started Liberacion as a way to heal. And it slowly became bigger than they could've have ever imagined...

Main Pairings: Damian Priest/OFC, Drew McIntyre/OFC, Roman Reigns/OFC, Finn Bálor/OFC, Liv Morgan/Rhea Ripley

Side Characters: Mercedes Mone, Liv Morgan, Seth Rollins, Becky Lynch, and more.

Tags: 18+, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink, kink negotiation, consensual kink, consensual non-consent, BDSM, knife play, light blood play, bratting, hair-pulling, breeding kink, and more.

Chapter Word Count: 3,051

Prev. Chapter

~Harper's POV~

~PAST~

“ Fuck…” I whimpered as Liv’s relentless tongue worked my clit.

She swirled and swirled it around before she took my clit into her mouth and sucked with just the right amount of pressure.

Just as my hips flew off the bed, I heard the blow dryer cut off in the bathroom.

“Seriously?” Rhea called out; one brow cocked as she peeked into the suite.

“I leave you girls on your own for two fucking seconds…” Rhea chuckled, and she shook her head as my body writhed with every stroke of Liv’s mouth on those most sensitive parts between my legs.

“It was way more than two seconds, Ripl- oh my fucking god do that again please!” I moaned as Liv’s fingers stroked my sweet spot as her mouth continued its sweet assault on my clit.

“No. Don’t do that again. Liv, Harper has a meeting to go to.” Rhea scolded the lump underneath the sheets that was Liv, but I could hear her strict tone waning as she watched the sheets slowly slide off my bare breasts as my hands clenched the sheets.

I watched her leer hungrily at my chest and I smirked at her in a silent invitation.

Still, much to my dismay, Rhea stalked over to the side of the bed, and she pulled the sheets fully off of us.

I whimpered in protest and glared at her grumpily.

“It’ll just take two seconds, Mommy. I promise.” Liv purred as she smiled up at Rhea’s amused features before her mouth went back to work.

I nodded. “Yeah. Don’t be such a party pooper- mierda!” My words broke off an orgasm ripped through me exactly two seconds later and my back arched off the bed once again.

Liv looked mighty pleased with herself as she swiped a hand across her mouth, her tempting and plump lips now the color of crushed strawberries.

“See?” She giggled, smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah, okay, smartass… I’m next.” Rhea grumbled as she side-eyed Liv as the two of us cackled.

~PRESENT~

Distracted didn’t even begin to describe how I’d been the last few days.

Thoughts of Damian fucking Priest and what could be, consumed my every waking second and… well, I was beginning to get on my own nerves.

I found myself once again drowning myself in my work- even work I could have easily handed over to Tammie, Cat, or any other staff.

Anything to distract myself from the alarming emptiness I was starting to feel whenever Damian wasn’t around at the club.

Or anything to stop me from doing something really fucking stupid like- calling Damian or texting him and telling him I missed him.

As much as I didn’t want to, we just always seemed to gravitate toward one another.

Whenever he was here; and he was here more often than not these days, we were never too far apart and we’d either eat lunch at the club’s dining hall, my office, or we went out for dinner if it was a particularly long day of being cooped inside the club.

It was so fucking stupid.

We were just messing around.

Just jokes.

And yes, he made me feel at ease.

Safe, even.

Like my every thought mattered- fuck’s sake, if that doesn’t let me know what a number Jason did on me, I don’t know what does.

‘Like my every thought mattered’?... No jodas, Harper… the bar is so fucking low.

Which is reason #224256364 as to why I had no business pursuing anything with anyone.

At least not for the time being.

Yet still, anytime Damian so much as laid those playful and warm eyes on me and the more we got to know each other I…

I wanted to sink into him and see where things could go.

God, just the sound of his voice filled my chest with feelings that I was way too fucking afraid to put my finger on.

And it didn’t help that he never pushed farther than I was willing to let him.

But there was no way I’d let myself go there again.

As warm and kind and attentive and gentle as Damian was, I couldn’t bring myself to voice what I wanted from him.

What I needed.

Voicing those thoughts would be like betraying myself and the promise I made to keep myself safe whenever Jason and everything he put me through weaseled their way back into my head.

And yeah, maybe it made me a hypocrite, considering the advice that I would give day in and day out to the patrons at my club about how trusting someone wholeheartedly is one of the most important and most beautiful things on planet Earth and how sometimes you just have to let go.

But I just. couldn’t.

Besides, I could absolutely be misinterpreting his attention for more than what it was.

The Lord knows he could probably have his pick of anyone he wanted at any given time.

And after one of our many late-night talks, Damian made his thoughts on serious relationships crystal clear.

And while I told myself that I wasn’t looking for anything serious myself, the thought of being just one of many on Damian’s list just didn’t sit right with me.

And hell, for all I knew, all he felt for me was sympathy.

Sympathy for what Jason had done.

And for me not really having a single reliable male figure in my life…

I was a walking advertisement for daddy issues, and I knew that.

So much so that I almost didn’t blame Damian if he just felt sorry for me.

And yet my mind couldn’t help but wander back to those moments of close proximity between us.

Even just thinking about it all, I could already feel the delicious phantom pressure of his hand wrapped around my throat.

I could feel the warmth that would spread throughout my body every time he’d make it a point to come help out at the club.

He’d come bright and early, even though he wasn’t exactly a morning person.

A few times, his soft eyes would land on me swimming in one of his softest hoodies, not bothering to question the fact that I had very clearly begun to steal them from him at some point.

I always replaced them, though.

Ugh!

My mind was a fucking tangled web of conflicting thoughts and memories…

So, I decided to use my job in order to continue avoiding the problem- the problem of course being Damian- as the only solution I could come up with.

I was supposed to be getting ready for one of our monthly themed nights at Liberacion.

Tonight, it was Lace or Leather Night, which, you probably guessed it, means that everyone could arrive dressed in their best lace or leather outfits.

I chose a gorgeous sapphire blue and black number and despite my scattered brain, I was super excited to see what the rest of my girlfriends and coworkers would choose for tonight.

I forced thoughts of Damian away long enough to get dolled up before the patrons would start trickling out of their rented rooms and other patrons would start showing up for the night’s festivities.

Themed nights weren’t much different to the rest of the nights except for the dress code being mandatory.

The drinking limit if people were planning to play was still 2 drinks max and no sex was allowed, neither were scenes outside of the closed off/rented areas.

The soundproof dance floor was to the right of the dining hall so that the patrons could talk and just be at peace away from the loudness of the thumping music if they wanted to.

But of course, security was packed throughout the club in case anybody tried to skirt around the club’s rules.

“Well, holy shit. You look hot!” Tammie exclaimed and I smiled as I took my spot next to her up at the top, looking down at the patrons laughing and mingling as I nursed a glass of ginger ale.

Cat was dealing with check-ins and check-outs tonight.

“So do you!” I replied as we clinked our glasses together.

I just knew Tammie’s husband Johnny was salivating for her in her skintight leather outfit.

Underneath the dim lighting I couldn’t tell if it was blue or black, but it looked like a second skin on her curvy body.

This was what I loved most about nights and environments like these- we could literally be anything we wanted, go out of our comfort zone without fear of what others would think and we could just play and be whoever and whatever we wanted to be.

Not just with our clothes, but there were tons of people with their fangs, wings and claws out.

Some fully shifted werewolves and hybrids letting their hair down and just having a good time.

Zero judgements.

This was home to me.

(not my photo)

I watched in my peripheral as Tammie softly sniffed the air.

“Is that… chocolate chip cookies?” she asked, bewildered, as if we didn’t serve snacks to the patrons as per their request.

“Harper… are yo- “Tammie broke into a fit of laughter at my guilty expression.

“Could you be any more obvious? Smelling like his favorite snack?” She exclaimed, laughing harder the redder my face got.

“Okay, relax, pendeja. I love chocolate chip cookies with milk too. He ain’t special.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I took another sip of ginger ale to avoid her knowing smirk.

“Sure… anyway, he’s on the third floor. I know ya don’t care or whatever, but I just thought I’d let you know.” Tammie said, her tone lifting with amusement as my eyes flashed towards her.

“He didn’t come say hi?” I whispered, but of course she heard me.

She looked at me with such pity that I had to look back towards the dance floor, away from her sad eyes.

“What do you expect, muchacha?” Tammie said softly in her lilting Texan accent, leaning in slightly so that only I could hear her words of advice.

“Look, I don’t wanna pressure you. And neither does he, that much is obvious. And it’s okay that you’re unsure of what you want. But you can’t play this hot and cold game and then get upset when he backs off. Talk to him and tell him that you’re confused and unsure. Then take the time apart to actual figure yourself out and to figure out what it is that you’re really after. ‘I’m not sure,’ is a good enough answer sometimes, babe. At least it’s an answer.” Tammie shrugged.

“Tamara, it’s not like he hasn’t been giving off mixed signals too.” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“Maybe so. But it’s all the more reason for you to plant yourself in front of him and tell him that you’re done playing games. One of you’s gotta cut the crap, honey.” she said.

And goddamn her for being so persuasive…

I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

The voyeur floor consisted of about 12 rooms with a plexiglass separating voyeurs from the person giving them a show.

Each window was about 1 foot apart to give the group of 5 people max, enough room to sit and watch and a curtain was inside the room for whenever the person inside decided they didn’t want to be watched anymore.

As I walked through the hall of the voyeur floor, my heart rate spiked as the lustful vibe that this floor always carried hit me like a freight train.

Oftentimes I came to watch people play and sometimes I even gave them a show myself.

It helped that I couldn’t really see them behind the tinted plexiglass, but I knew they could see me.

It somehow heightened the excitement of being watched while calming the nerves of it simultaneously.

I sometimes thought of Damian joining the group, watching me as I played with mys-

“Oof!” I grunted as I walked right into a very large and very apologetic brick wall that quickly shot out to hold me up before I could sprawl to the ground.

“Cono, I’m sorry- I didn’t watch where I was going and-… Harper.”

I looked up… and up, and up as the familiar voice sunk into my brain and made my limbs almost melt into nothing.

“Damian… Hii.” I said softly, a giggle wanting to escape my lips as I held onto Damian’s very, very large biceps and his own lips curled into a sly smirk.

I was not prepared for how scrumptious he’d look decked out in leather.

I was used to seeing this on tv but in person… god damn.

The snug material hugged him in all the right places and my mouth started to water before my eyes slowly reached back up to his.

God, I was worse than a fucking 13-year-old schoolgirl.

Get a grip, cabrona.

“Hi. You here to watch?” Damian asked and we moved closer towards a more secluded part of the hallway to let other people pass through.

“Um… no, not tonight. I’m… I was looking for you, actually.” I replied, blushing bright red as Damian tilted his head.

He leaned against the wall and so did I, just to have something sturdy to hold me up as my brain began to get a bit fuzzy as he leaned in closer.

The action was so… almost intimate and I couldn’t help myself.

His broad body seemed to almost wrap around me, his massive build making my stomach flip-flop.

That was all I could blame for what I did next.

Not taking my hands away from his biceps, I used our physical contact to my advantage, and I began to show him.

I wanted to show him the things I thought of every time he was near.

Every time his hands were on me for one of those damn demos everyone enjoyed watching and we enjoyed doing.

Through my magic, I fed him visions of me on my knees at his feet, staring up at him in adoration.

I showed him vivid images of how hard I’d come if I just let go and let him squeeze my throat just a little harder as he fucked me into oblivion.

I showed him more PG visions of casual handholding and introductions to strangers that left no doubt what we were to one another.

That left no doubt that the other was completely off-limits.

I showed him all the things I wanted with him but that I couldn’t quite let myself have just yet.

And with those visions came the very real and very visceral feelings of want.

Desire.

Lust.

Complete and utter devotion…

All of those feelings transferred from me to Damian and next thing I knew, Damian had moved us and picked me up and pressed me up against the wall, away from any prying eyes and crowding me and urging my legs to wrap around his waist.

I moaned as Damian’s hand gripped my thigh underneath my skirt, pressing me closer to him, and I was brought back down as I felt him harden between my legs.

Our lips were inches apart as our breaths came out in shuddery puffs as the searing passion flowing from my magic flowed through our own bodies, causing us to not have control over ourselves, going on pure primal instinct.

The tip of my tongue snaked out and lapped at his bottom lip, daring him to devour me and I drank in the almost guttural groan Damian gave in response.

I felt the sound right down to my very core, soaking in the powerful feeling of pulling apart his usually calm and collected nature.

And then the rug of desire was pulled from underneath as I felt Damian lower me back to the ground, my heels hitting the floor with a soft click.

We panted hard, trying to catch our breath despite the fact that not much occurred.

“Sorry… I should’ve asked before I…” I said, my breath coming out in tiny, rapid puffs as I willed my heart rate to slow down.

Damian shook his head before his features melted into a guilty expression.

“Its… it’s okay, Harper.” He started, and I sensed a “but” coming…

“But…” he continued, confirming my sinking suspicion. “We can’t. Look, I know I… I’ve been sending mixed messages; I know I have and I’m sorry for that. But you’re just much too young for me. And I think you know how I feel about- “Damian said and suddenly I didn’t want to hear him speak.

“Yeah.” I interrupted a little more forcefully than I intended. “No, yeah. I know. That was… dumb of me. Um- it’s fine. We could totally just pretend this never happened. Shit, I could even wipe your memory of this. I just thought…” I trailed off, frowning as my mind once again played through damn near every moment together.

Not to mention the very noticeable sign of arousal I could still almost feel pressing against me.

“No hay problema, Dami.” I said after a few seconds of awkward silence.

The nickname slipped out easily, only this time it felt like poison on my tongue.

Damian shook his head again, silently waving off my offer.

I couldn’t stand the guilt pouring from his eyes.

The pity was even worse, and I turned my back on him, so I no longer had to see it.

I was thanking the high heavens that were in a much more secluded part of the club, because try as I might’ve, there was no way no one would be able to tell that my heart and ego were both crushed to oblivion- my heart more so.

“I’m sorry, muñe-… I’m sorry, H.” Damian amended, and that crushing feeling traveled from my heart and right into my gut.

“No! You’re fine.” I spoke.

The knot in my throat expanded as I forced a casual cheeriness into my voice that my heart couldn’t mirror.

Before Damian could say anything more, I forced my heavy limbs to move and I took myself to my office, away from the noise and away from any prying eyes.

But clearly fate had other plans...

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ure-a-sunflower · 11 months

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Truth, Dare, and Jealousy

Written by ure-a-sunflower

Eddie Munson x reader!all genders (Stranger Things fanfiction)

This is my first time publishing any of my work since I really wanted to gatekeep this stuff to myself. I’ll be honest, I wrote a lot of Eddie fan fics so I’ll see how this one turns out. Please be nice, I beg of you. I just did this for fun back in August of 2022.

CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, some swearing, NO SPOILERS

Word Count: 3k

Eddie knew well that you hardly expressed crushes on real life boys aside from your beloved fictional characters. He was fine with that, honestly, because competition with some actually-not-real man that was good as paper and had as much depth as a kids blow up pool was nothing too personal for him. It was probably the dark brooding charm female authors would win you over with or the romantic promises these guys had that were downright unrealistic.

Regardless of that, you and Eddie connect really well and while he didn’t want to admit it, he was starting to develop feelings for you.

(Rest of the fic is below the cut)

This was kinda bad. You had only joined Hellfire a year ago and you got to Eddie real good. The other boys didn’t see it as much, but the way you both would squeal and jump for joy when you would come up with campaign ideas and talk about the most recent news of D&D… he never thought anyone else was like him. That was probably the first time he actually noticed you way past being a member of his club. Sure, you weren’t the biggest metalhead like the others, but when he saw you singing along to Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden in his van, he thought he was hallucinating.

But he was the group’s dungeon master and you weren’t held on the same freak level as him. You still hung out with your other best friends and your choice of aesthetic only dabbled in a bit of punk when given the chance. He thought you looked gorgeous when you would mix both. And considering how good you both got on already, Eddie was afraid he’d ruin what was between you. He couldn’t bear making it awkward.

At the end of a long week before a big school break, Eddie invited you to his trailer to hang out. The other Hellfire members had plans, which left the both of you alone.

“Truth or dare?” Eddie asked, while offering you another shot of the brandy. You downed it after swiping it from his hands and wiped your lips with your shirt. “Um, truth. Got nothing to hide.”

“Uhhh, alright.” Eddie leaned back to think. What useful information can he get out of you? He practically knew everything about you since you act like an open book around him. “Okay, I got one.”

“Shoot, Munson.” You didn’t like the clever smirk on his face.

“Who do you think is the most attractive member in Hellfire?”

Damn, you didn’t expect him to enter that territory. Eddie only took up your offer for a drinking game because you were getting sick of him being short of a human smoke machine. You weren’t planning to confess your stupid little crush on him that you’ve had for months now. What would he think of you?

“Wow, uh, you really wanna know?” you laughed it off awkwardly. Eddie noticed your uncomfortableness and chuckled. “I mean, you can answer my question or pick a worse dare, honey.”

God, his stupid nicknames. He wasn’t tipsy like you at the moment because unlike you, Eddie wasn’t a lightweight. “Let me hear the punishment then. I’ll consider my options.”

“That’s so against the rules but since you’re my favorite, I’ll tell you… I dare you to run around the trailer park, naked, and singing.”

“Eddie!” you yelled. “Are you trying to have fun or have me admitted to the nearest psychiatric ward?!” Soon, he was rollling on the floor, laughing. You couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine what you’d look like. Sure, you’d do anything for Eddie Munson, but that? You’d have to pass.

“So, ‘most attractive member’ then? Come on, sweets, we don’t have all night.”

“But won’t that sound like I’m attracted to them?”

“I mean, maybe. Be as objective as you want.”

You gulped. You really didn’t want Eddie to assume you had a crush on him but you also didn’t want him to think you had one on another Hellfire member. The least thing you’d want him to do is tease you with someone else. On top of things, inflating his already big sarcastic ego would end you.

“Um… huh, that’s tough…” You put your chin in your finger and thought hard. None of the freshmen were on the table. Jeff is sweet but he wasn’t your type— he was more like a brother to you, anyways. Last person left…

Everyone in Hellfire wasn’t afraid to admit that Gareth was handsome. Sure, he still had the baby cheeks and freckles from middle school, but you think his hair is really cute and fluffy even way back then. You always went out of your way to point that out and he’d blush super hard. He also gives you the best hugs, rivalring Eddie’s. Gareth is sweet and nice to you in and out of school, opposite of Grant and Eddie who are total pranksters. You have a soft spot for the guy. If only you weren’t so close with Eddie, you’d probably be fully head over heels with Gareth already.

You took a deep breath and shook your head in between a chuckle. “I guess I’m gonna go with Gareth.”

Eddie’s heart kinda stopped. Gareth? Gareth Emerson? He was already planning in his head how he would react when you’d say it was him. Ready to thank you and graciously shower you with praises while you roll your eyes and tell him not to take it too personally. That’s kind of why he asked the question, if he was being honest. He wanted to hear it from you.

You always loved teasing and calling Eddie your “pretty boy”, playing with his hair and braiding it whenever you both hung out. Once, you complimented his doe eyes while you were both out and about, and Eddie never forgot that moment since. It was the first time anyone has really noticed his features like that. The first time you met him, you even said his style was cool because he looked like a certified rockstar. But you thought Gareth was the most attractive when you were both alone right now? Seriously?

Eddie figured he’ll need to down a whole bottle and smoke himself to death once you go home. Then he just got more worried.

Why did he react that way?

“Eds, you good?” You waved a hand in front of his face as Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. You waited for his response after he kind of just blanked out.

He regretted asking you for the truth now. Should’ve just gone with like ‘what’s your go-to ice cream flavor’ or ‘who’s your favorite dungeon master and rockstar whose name starts with an E and rhymes with teddy’. Now, he just felt like some pathetic loser pouting because he didn’t like your answer. God, he felt like a stupid middle schooler all over again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” He looked like he snapped out of his trance but his eyes look everywhere but yours. His hands seize the bottle and he downs some. “So, uh, Gareth huh?”

Completely oblivious, you giggle and shove his shoulder. “Don’t tell him I told you that. Besides, I only see him as a close friend.” You better, Eddie thought. You noticed the tension in Eddie’s jaw and put a hand on his thigh to calm him down. It only had the opposite effect. “Hey. Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”

“It’s nothing. Why did you choose Gareth?”

The way he so quickly changed the subject didn’t slip past you. But you figured it wasn’t worth pressing on more. “I mean,” you scratch your neck, “he’s really sweet and it’s no secret that he’s got good genes.”

Eddie’s eyebrows only furrowed. The grin of disbelief on his face looked less amused and more annoyed.

“Really? I mean, am I not sweet? It’s gotta be the hair, isn’t it?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Eddie… are you… jealous?”

You thought he was gonna have a whiplash with the way he snapped his head towards you. “What did you just say?” Despite the utter confusion in his face, you knew he heard you. You smirked and continued.

“Are you jealous of me saying Gareth’s attractive?” His poor best friend Gareth, having no idea that Eddie’s currently dunking his head in a barrel of water in his mind. How dare he look attractive to the person he’s had the biggest crush ever on. Now, they’re onto him.

Playing dumb was his only option. “No, I’m not. Why would I be jealous? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m teasing you about this!” Air quotes and all, you saw through his façade. The defenses were raised and you could tell Eddie was lying. His ears were a brighter pink than before and though you were tipsy, you still had a strong intuition that you just made your best friend envious. The alcohol in your system seemed to not only fuel your courage but also your audacity. You leaned in to mess with him further. “I just figured, y’know, since you reacted when I said that.”

“I did not react.” Such a child. You wiggled your eyebrows.

“Sure…” An idea popped in your head. “Then, you wouldn’t mind if I asked Gareth out after break?”

Eddie thought he was going to faint. Or combust. Whichever was faster.

“Are— Are you fucking serious?!” Eddie jumped in his seat, accidentally banging his knees on the table and staring at you like you’ve grown another head. You were laughing at this point, clutching your stomach and throwing your head back. If only Eddie didn’t hear your previous words, he would’ve thought you looked like a pure angel. But he was genuinely shocked.

“Munson, what has gotten into you?! I’m only joking!” Eddie’s been having heart attack after heart attack with each sentence you uttered. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or pissed off at you. “You really don’t like me going out with him, don’t you? Well, I know how much Gareth means to Jeff. Can’t get in the way of the most legendary bromance in Hawkins.”

Eddie slapped a hand over his face and groaned. He opened his mouth to say something when you beat him to it. “Or does it feel incestuous to date someone from Hellfire? I see why you’re so protective of them. I kinda see the boys as like my brothers—“

“Just shut up!” Playing cards, napkins, plastic forks— they scattered from the table to the floor as Eddie frantically attempts to quiet you. You stopped and stared at him. Usually, you would shrink away and tear up when someone raised their voice like that at you, but you knew Eddie would never mean you any harm. But then again, this was a first. And he sounded so serious.

After no one still said a word, you coughed and decided to change the topic. “… A-Alright, um, that’s enough truth or dare for one night.”

When you were about to leave and walk yourself home, because you were too tipsy as hell to even bike, Eddie insisted you stay. You gave up arguing with him when nothing could convince him to leave you there in the streets all by yourself. He couldn’t drive you either because he was slightly high, never wanting to lose his van because of a DUI arrest, and casually admitted that he won’t be able to sleep knowing you weren’t safe.

You were quite basically trapped in his arms as he cuddled you on his couch.

It was a compromising position, really. You never figured Eddie to be the cuddlebear, but the way he clung onto you was like you were going to disappear from his hands. To make yourself comfortable, you cuddled into him, placing your head on his chest, and Eddie’s heart melted at your gesture.

Your head in his chest, his legs over yours— he was going to be so pissed at himself in the morning.

He knew what he was doing but also not. So did you. This was how lovers would hold each other. It just felt right to be in the other’s arms and not care about the world, a crazy and cruel world. Yes, you were both good friends, but this was just you guys testing the waters of your friendship. No romantic shit. It was just two tipsy best friends cuddling closely on the couch, a thriller movie in the background as soft rain pattered outside. Super platonic. Yep.

You were drifting off to sleep time and time again because of how good of a white noise the TV and rain were, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice. However, he had something bothering him that he had to bring up to you before you start dozing off and become knocked off cold. He couldn’t wait until the morning to tell you since he knew well he’d chicken out again. Perhaps he invited you to drink some alcohol so he could finally confess using liquid courage, and in the case if you’d reject him, he’d just blame it on being drunk. Perfect foolproof plan.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered your name by the shell of your ear. You stirred from your sleepiness and turned up to him. “Hey, um… I’m sorry if I, uh, made an outburst earlier.”

It wasn’t easy to decipher what this was all about, especially when you were half-asleep and in the midst of sobering at this point. “For what? About Gareth? Don’t worry, I know we were being stupid.” You still didn’t understand why he made such a fuss, but you were just trying to move on from the situation. Nevermind figuring out his reasons. Your heart was pounding miles a minute. You were holding your crush like you were partners, and you wanted to be out of there and in between his arms more than ever at the same time. It was worth cherishing this position before you two part in the morning and just pretend nothing happened.

Eddie hated that you said his name again. “Yeah… I just…you know… I guess I was jealous.”

You took a pause to digest what he said. “You were? Oh, Eddie, I know I said Gareth but you’re still the pretty boy! I mean, you know I love your hair and your eyes—“

“No, it’s not that I’m jealous of Gareth’s looks.” Eddie took a deep breath. Yours hitched, waiting for his next words. He tried to look into your eyes but you could see them shaking and he kept averting your gaze. “I… well… shit. H-How am I gonna say this….?”

“… Yeah?”

“I-I got… I got jealous… that you like him.”

At this point you were grasping at sticks. What did that even mean? Was he jealous of the attention? Of your feelings? That another guy was held in a position higher than Eddie Munson, Hellfire’s Beloved Leader? It was starting to get annoying.

“Eddie, we’re so close and we’ve been great friends since I’ve known you. Fucking hell, you’re our Dungeon Master. I know you and Gareth are like brothers and I get it if you don’t want anyone dating in the club. You’ve got nothing to worry about just because I think he’s got looks—“

“No,” he shook his head, finally demanding your attention, “like, I like like you. I have feelings for you and I want to be with you. As your… boyfriend.”

You were certainly stunned.

Maybe you just waited and pushed for him to say it, but you still couldn’t believe it. Did Eddie just confess he liked you? First? You wanted to soar and you felt like you could touch stars. Holy shit. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Was it the alcohol that made you like this?

“…And I know I sound stupid or selfish but I guess I have to make my moves now since you want to ask Gareth out.”

Your mouth was still gaped wide open as Eddie continued rambling about how much he liked you. “—like we were alone in the drama room one night while cleaning and we danced to that stupid jazzy song you put on like my parents used to when I was a kid and I didn’t know it at that time but I think that’s when I realized I was falling really badly for you—“

You had scooted your way towards him the entire time he was going on and on, fully facing his direction, and took his hands that were wildly gesturing the entire time. “Eddie.”

“—because you’re just so nice and understanding and patient with me a-and— huh?” He was staring at you like a baby deer in headlights as you cupped his cheek. You could feel the warmth as his eyes widened. “I really like you too. I’ve fallen in love with you for months now.”

There was just silence. Silence on your end because you can’t believe you’ve finally said that, and Eddie was shortcircuiting with the words you’ve said to him. He had to repeat them in his head to make sure they really meant what he was thinking they meant. “You… You really—? But Gareth—“

“I only said Gareth because I didn’t know if I should confess I like you. I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year.”

“You liked me for that long?! Wha— Wait, I, oh gosh so you actually like me?”

“Eddie, I want to be yours. I love you. I really do.”

That was the happiest he’s been in forever. If he had to put it in words, it felt like someone lit a firework and his heart was fizzing around the room.

Pulling you to him, he mumbled a “may I kiss you?” and you nodded eagerly. Eddie placed a hand below your chin and locked his lips with yours passionately, absolutely savoring this moment because he’s been waiting for it for sleepless nights and hopeless daydreams. It was finally happening.

He whispered in between kisses, “I love you so so much” which made you giggle. “I can’t believe I have the best, kindest, and hottest partner in all of the world.” When you rolled your eyes, Eddie shook his head disapprovingly and kissed you once again until you were literally gasping for air and telling him “okay! Okay! I believe you! Gosh, I love you so much, Eddie!”

At the next campaign, it was no doubt a surprise to Hellfire when Eddie suddenly announced you were his partner the moment you walked in the door.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #eddie #hellfire club

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coffeebeanwriting · 2 years

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Writing Dialogue Tips

1) Slang. Consider how your character’s past and upbringing might change the way they refer to things. Does your character refer to a dog as 'pup’ or ‘beast’? If the latter, was it because they were attacked by a dog as a child? Another example would be referring to a girl as “lassie” or “chick” or “lady”. These all display a different cultural upbringing.

2) Action. Mix in action with your dialogue to make it more natural. As humans, we rarely just stand straight like a post while talking. We move our hands, fiddle with things, have nervous ticks, etc. A great tip is to add in a prop for your characters to mess with while they talk. For example, a soldier talks to a newbie about the harsh realities of war while he cleans his gun.

3) Make sure the dialogue advances the story. This could be revealing a secret through dialogue, further developing your characters, creating or breaking relationships, physically pushing the plot forward, creating conflict for your crew, etc. Some authors go as far as saying to cut any dialogue that does not aid in the progress of the story.

4) Naturally reveal worldbuilding through dialogue. This one is pretty important as it helps to prevent info dumping. If your character arrives somewhere new and knows nothing, or you need to explain something to your readers that is unique to your world, dialogue is a great place to do this. Give your character a mentor who can explain the way things work, or have them meet a character to who they ask questions.

5) Don’t overuse catchphrases. Giving your characters a unique phrase that they say often can bring them to life. Extra points if this phrase enhances your worldbuilding by being unique to your fictional realm. However, if the catchphrase is said too much, it can become unrealistic and a bit annoying to the audience. Here are some examples of catchphrases:

“Cauldron Boil Me!” - A Court of Thorns and Roses “Thank the Maker!” - Star Wars “Old sport.” - A Great Gatsby

6) Not every character knows the truth. To write enticing dialog, it can be smart to keep in mind that not everyone knows everything. A young man raised in a small village would not understand the slang or politics of a bustling city. Therefore, the way he talks and what he says will be vastly different than the city folk.

7) So... create conflict and false truths. Expanding on the previous point, if your character doesn’t understand something... it can be human nature to pretend that we do. Does your character spread false information to the reader and characters? If so, this can be a great opportunity for twists and epic reveals.

8) Using said is okay. You've heard it before, so I won’t say much, but you don’t always need flowery dialogue tags. Sometimes using ‘said’ and be much more impactful.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

📖 ☕ Official Blog: www.byzoemay.com

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niabang · 5 months

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The Summer it Came True

Pairing: Bangchan × black female reader named Kel

Summary: You loved him, and you never got to tell him, but now he's back.

It had been about 13 years since Chan left Australia to Korea to pursue his dreams of being a K-pop idol. He left the day you wanted to tell him how you felt about him. You woke up and got ready to see him only to realise that he was gone. He left just like that, no explanation, no call, no text, not even a letter. He was just gone.

You had no idea what he left for, and you received a rude awakening when you saw him performing with a couple of other boys on stage on TV after years of not having a trace of him. You already forgot about him (you didn't), so why did he have to show up now? Why was he even more handsome than before, and more importantly, why was he coming back to Australia?

You thought you had gotten over him but why did you still have feelings for him?

Disclamer: this work is from my imagination and it does not reflect the artist's behaviour in anyway. It's fiction so a lot of things may be a tad bit unrealistic lol. I will be posting this in parts/chapters. Chan is still an idol in this but I kind of left out the outside/idol world in this fic.

A/N: The first few chapters may seem kind of boring, but y'all have to stick with me, okay? I wanted to make this kind of slow burn, so if you stick with me for long enough, the story gets more interesting and a little spicy as we go along. i promise ♡.

Genres: Romance, fluff

Chapter 1

Word Count: 800

It was almost summer, meaning it was time for you to start getting ready to move into the beach house that your parents left you before they died. You were an only child, so everything they owned automatically became yours, they died when you were legal so you had no issues with the law on acquiring the properties including the million dollar clothing industry they left you.

How did you deal with your parents dying in a car crash and becoming the ceo of a company overnight at the age of 20? People tend to ask. The answer is: you don't know. You're 26 now, 6 years seemed to fly by like days, and you became more and more invested in the company, you grew to love it. You had no time for a lot of friends or romance as you were always working.

Maybe you didn't have time for romance because my heart still belonged to him. Your heart still belonged to Chan, the boy who vanished into thin air the day you wanted to confess your feelings for him. Call it an obsession. It probably was, but you hadn't been able to get him out of your head for years now, and you didn't know why.

Every time you thought about that day, you almost got tears in your eyes. You were only 13. He was your first love. How could he just leave like that without telling you anything?

Then you realised. He didn't owe you anything. Hell, you barely even spoke. Why did you feel so entitled? You guys were acquaintances at best. The last time you remember having an actual conversation with him was when your two families met on the beach one summer when you were twelve, and you were both forced to play together.

Other than that, it was just a simple "hey" or a wave every time you saw each other in school or in the neighbourhood. You weren't exactly the best of friends. You just had this embarrassingly huge crush on this man who probably didn't even remember your name.

You were supposed to be packing up your things to leave the suburbs of Sydney to your house on the beachside where you would take a break from the office while still working but this time with the serenity of an ocean view and the calming sound of the ocean waves. You were really looking forward to it.

For some reason, you weren't really in the mood to get packing, so you jumped on your bed and tuned the TV to an entertainment channel, and that was when you received the biggest shock of your life.

It was HIM. He was right there on your screen. The boy - wait, he was a man now. The man you couldn't shake off your heart and your mind was right there on your screen after twelve years of disappearing, and he was as beautiful as ever...

...

After getting over the shock of your life that day, you did a little research, and you found out that he was a K-pop idol in an eight member band called "Stray Kids" what a weird name you thought to yourself but they were a pretty big deal. They were superstars. You weren't surprised. Chan had a really amazing voice that you never got to compliment him on, and you knew he would end up pursuing what he loved one way or the other.

As if the shock of seeing him on stage performing with seven other men wasn't enough, they announced their first World tour, and the third stop was Sydney. HE WAS COMING HERE? HE WAS COMING BACK? You almost lost your mind for a few minutes.

Wait, why did you even bother? He was a famous celebrity now. He definitely didn't remember or care about the girl he built sandcastles at the beach with thirteen years ago. He probably had all the girls wrapped around his finger. He probably took multiple girls home every night. Bold of you to assume you'd be on his mind.

It was honestly pathetic for you to still think about him the way you did but you just couldn't get over him, his eyes that closed up whenever he smiled, his mouth corner dimples, his beautiful smile, his big beautiful nose, his contagious laugh that sounded like he was in need of air, the way he would always carry things for the female teachers at school, the way he always made sure ladies went first before he did and the way he donated blood to the hospital every once in a while. He was perfect but not for you. You had to forget about him.

You had to do it before he came back.

Next chapter

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan #bangchan fluff #bangchan fanfic #fluff #kpop #kpop tumblr #tooth rotting fluff #romance #soft hours #slow burn #black kpop stans #black kpop fans #The Summer it Came True #angst

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mauesartetc · 11 months

Text

So I was watching this bonkers roller coaster of an analysis video that bounces from topic to topic with a psychological thriller plot playing out in the gaps between them (though it does arrive at a point eventually). A bit before the 18-minute mark, it brings up the infamously bad movie "The Room" and how one specific character is written as unrealistically malicious, with no clear motivation or logic behind her behavior. It's as if Tommy Wiseau purposefully crafted a sadistic monster with no redeeming qualities in order to make the audience hate her.

Then it hit me. That sounds terribly familiar.

I can't believe I can say, with zero exaggeration, that the characterization of Stella from Helluva Boss is on par with that of Lisa from The Room. And yet, here we are.

The video speculates that Lisa and Johnny's relationship could be based on an actual breakup Tommy Wiseau went through, and that this is his perspective of how things went down. Johnny (a fairly transparent self-insert) is portrayed as the innocent hero who's practically perfect in every way, while Lisa is cruel and vindictive for no good reason. It's obvious viewers are meant to see Johnny as the good guy and Lisa as nothing but a loathsome villain to boo and hiss at, much like Helluva Boss's narrative wants us to sympathize with Stolas and curse Stella's name.

Fun fact: One of my own characters is also unsympathetic by design. He's an obnoxious sleazeball who constantly hits on women and has a hair-trigger temper. But he's also witty, an ardent defender of his beliefs, and individualistic despite the strict, conformist environment he was brought up in. Every time he sees a loophole to exploit, he will, for better or worse. It would've been the easiest thing in the world to make this character a one-note asshole with no substance, but where's the fun in that? How would that be interesting?

But how a writer develops characters isn't just an indicator of their work ethic, their commitment to quality, or their enjoyment of the act itself. It also says something about how they see the world, or more specifically, the people in it.

I'm just wondering what the hell it takes to be okay with writing strawman villains like Lisa and Stella. How misanthropic and/or sheltered do you have to be to view anyone, even fictional characters, as this thoroughly monstrous?

Tommy? Viv? Are you okay? Who hurt you?

Seriously, who hurt you?

#writing #character development #helluva boss #helluva critical #helluva stella #unsympathetic characters #critique #criticism #the room #sympathetic characters

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elliespuns · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/elliespuns/743339485174054912/how-do-you-feel-about-everyone-going-nuts-on-tlou

you summed up my thoughts perfectly! there is a lot of very juvenile virtue signalling going on right now but then again i’ve always found things like ‘black outs’ and ‘strikes’ a little silly and just.. unrealistic honestly. it’s just a way for people to flex ‘i’m better than you because i’m dedicating all my free time to the cause and you’re not’. it reminds me of the very toxic twitter era where this sort of grapple for moral superiority was rampant amongst young people trying to assert that they were in fact good and pure (a LOT of these individuals are 17,18,19 it seems). not everyone wants to be a social media activist and that’s perfectly valid. calling you a zionist on anon is way too far though, at least have the guts to put forth such a serious accusation with your name attached.

I just think that people attacking bloggers for not 'spreading' informations about the conflict are unreasonable and rude.

Every fandom blogger has their own personal social media where they might be talking about it, which these anon attackers won't ever know, yet they keep harassing. They are basically trying to spread good by being mean to others? How ironic.

I don't feel the need to apologize for not sharing it here. If I feel I want to share something here, I will (as I did a few hours ago). People should realize I am running a fandom blog here. Those who are already following me must already be aware of how things are.

Needless to say, many of us fell in love with the game back in 2013 (part 1) and 2020 (part 2) where there was no conflict and no 'choosing sides'. So now that the creator of the same game shows his true colors, we're supposed to start hating on something we already love and find hard to unlove? A bit harsh, huh? Because unless we go and buy the products from the big corporate companies, we are harming no one. Loving something from afar has never hurt anyone. For Christ's sake, we're loving a game with fictional characters, not the people who have the guns and bombs. The game will always be there; ignoring its existence will do nothing.

For those who would be wondering (as I understand everyone expects a big fan like me to own things related to TLOU)… yes, I own things. But I bought them a long time ago, when there was NO conflict to get upset about yet. All of these things were bought secondhand on top of everything (well, except for Part 1, which I bought completely new back at the time—again, no conflict back then). So does that mean I should just take all these things and throw them away too? The damage has already been done; someone already bought these things from the corporate companies before selling them to me secondhand. Should I just take all these things, destroy them, and throw them out the window to prove what exactly? That doing so is completely useless too because it helps literally nobody? These things might as well just keep lying on my shelf. I didn't hurt anybody by getting them back in the day.

I am tired of repeating myself over and over. Those who understand this will get me. Those who don't, won't. And that's okay. I won't apologize for talking about Palestine in my personal life and not in the feed of the silly little blog I manage.

#thanks for understanding dude #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us game #tlou game #palestine #elliespuns answers

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ch3rriewine · 1 year

Text

Pink in the night ♡ {R.L}

summary: Remus drunkenly confesses his feelings, romance ensues

warnings(?): 1.6k words, idk like fluff, loosely based off of the mitski song "pink in the night", little bad idk how i feel about this one, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind, reader has hair long enough to be tucked back lol, reader has a cat:D, remus is a cutie as always, remus is a clingy drunk, theyre at a party and drinking alcohol, like one mention of a weed smell, the time it takes for the pain meds to kick in is a tad unrealistic but it's fiction so who cares, i'll add more when i think of more

authors note: ahhh!!!!! second fic thing idk tell me what u think :p also tell me what else u want writing wise im trying to write more

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Remus needs to talk to you, even standing near you would be great. You might as well be glowing pink, and the alcohol makes you look no less than a ray of sunlight. In a little black dress and some kitten heels, you stand close to Emmaline. That dress does wonders for your already lovely self, he thinks. You arrived a little later than everyone else, so you only had a few sips of some cocktail in you. He stumbles over to you, okay maybe he's drunk, not tipsy. Still, he managed to get over to you. Your perfume hits his senses and suddenly he’s forgotten why he’s over there. Oh yeah,

“Hey” you speak up first glancing at him with furrowed brows accompanied by a concerned smile.

“H-hey!” he yells, maybe a bit too loud, over the music. You're still smiling, now it’s not in concern, it's in fondness. He hopes you never stop.

“Having fun?” you chide, cocking your head a bit to the side. The smell of vodka and a small hint of cologne is eminent on him.

“No, not really” he slurs his words ever so slightly, grinning the smallest bit of pearly whites showing and something glinting in his eyes that you can't quite place.

Small talk ensues, and then he starts following you around the flat, chatting about nothing. Soon enough you're sat on a couch that smells faintly of booze and weed with Remus playing with a small lock of your hair. The strands twirl through his fingers, he seems oddly entertained by it, how much alcohol had Sirius given him?

“Rem, you look tired, you wanna stay the night at my place?” you ask, worried he’d pass out in this sticky mess. It’s only a friendly worry, not I secretly want to take care of you because I like you a whole lot worry, totally not.

“If it’s not too much of a hassle, sure” he mumbles, apparently too tired to speak up. Thankfully, your flat isn’t that far within walking distance. You two eventually make it back with no problems, other than Remus would occasionally trip on nothing. You lead him to your couch and sit him down, he’s already half asleep and he doesn't notice you taking off his coat for him and his shoes. You drag him back onto his feet and lead him to your bedroom, a lot harder than it sounds when it's a six-foot drunk man you're dragging. He plops down onto your bed, sighing at the feeling of your blankets and pillows surrounding him. You get a glass of water and some paracetamol on your bedside table for his oncoming hangover, then leave to change into your pajamas. He slowly assesses your bedroom, your bookshelves, the color of the walls, to your photos hanging up. It’s so you, everything just fits in perfectly with your character. You emerge from your bathroom changed and cleaned.

You're so lovely, he thinks. With your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, you make your way over to your bed. “Get some rest, please, you had a lot to drink” ending your sentence with a small smile. That damn smile again.

“You’re so beautiful” he admires while sitting up, his face flushed from the alcohol and maybe something more. He eyed your lips with hazy eyes. “I really like you, as I think of you all day, it's hard to get stuff done. I really want to kiss you right now.”

“You’re drunk, get some rest and drink water” you insist.

“I’m serious!” he presses “you're so lovely” he sighs and falls back down onto the mattress.

“Scooch” you push him lightly so he moves over to the other side of the bed. “You won't feel like this in the morning, you're drunk.” you look into his eyes in the dim room, his dark brown irises looking almost black in the dark.

“I will,” he says before closing his eyes “I always will”. After a while, his breathing deepens and he's snoring lightly. He was saying that you were the one that was beautiful but look at him. His fluffed-up yet put-together hair, his bushy eyebrows, and the small, sparse freckles dotting his face, I mean come on. You fall asleep with your body turned towards him.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Remus awakes with meowing in his face. He blinks his eyes open slowly, looking at the black cat staring back at him. It was a small thing, with big yellow eyes and a pudgy figure. For a moment he was incredibly confused, he didn’t have a cat. He looked around to find that he wasn’t in his flat and he had a raging headache. His head was pounding and the shrill meowing wasn't helping. He looked over to his left seeing you. You were so peaceful like this, hair a mess, face completely relaxed, and hand resting on his chest.

He put the pieces together, he was in your flat after Sirius’ party, God did he say anything weird? Being too tired to think about it, he looks to his side to find water and some paracetamol. Downing the water, he turns toward your cat. Sashimi, he thinks is the name. Sashimi is sitting at the end of the bed now waiting patiently for his breakfast. Remus would feed him if he knew where you kept the cat food, so he has to wake you up. He dreads it, he'd rather not take you out of your peaceful state, but it’s for your son, as you call him.

“Hey, your cats hungry” he shakes you awake softly. “I'd feed him but I don't know where the food is”

You mumble something incoherent into your pillow, rolling into it. He laughs. That stupid, gorgeous laugh. “Ugh ok, I’ll feed him,” you say, not putting in any effort to get up. He rubs your arm comforting, the paracetamol already taking its effect.

You fight off the sleep still in your system and sit up. “Ok I’m awake, stay here if you want” Finally sitting up and getting out of bed. You smooth your hair, trying to salvage your appearance in any way possible. He follows close behind, walking out into your kitchen/living room, actually getting a good look at your living space. Your fake plants, your photos with your friends, and even a photo of you two. The photo is slightly blurry with you on his lap laughing wildly at something he said, a quaint smile spreading across his face at your reaction. It’s cute. He remembers that night, the party you guys were at, the smell of your perfume, the glitter coating your eyelids, the heels you took off halfway through the night, everything about you he remembers, yet he can't, for the life of him, remember what he said to make you laugh that hard.

The sound of a can opening pulls him back to the moment. Your cat meows at your feet, incessant with his demands for his breakfast. “Here you go, sweet boy,” you say to Sashimi while plopping the wet food into his bowl. Crouching to pet the cat’s soft fur, you turn your head and smile at Remus. “You want to go out for breakfast? There's a diner right around the corner.”

You sit opposite each other, him still in his alcohol-smelling clothes from the night before and you in sweats and a tank top with a flannel thrown over. The coffee is burnt and the bacon is too salty, but you couldn't be more content, what can you really expect from a diner whose main consumers are people like you, fighting hangovers with greasy food and coffee. “How're your eggs?” you ask, still kind of groggy.

“Rubbery,” he says around a mouthful of said eggs. “How’re your waffles?”

“Eh, they're ok,” you say moving your cut-up waffles around the plate with your fork, mind occupied.

“Are you ok? Something on your mind, lovely?” he asks. Of course, he can tell when you're out of sorts. Stupid, smart, amazing boy.

“You said, uhm, you said something last night.” you say “I just-I’m just thinking about it” you give him a small smile.

Oh God, what did he say? Did he mess it all up before he could even make a move? The poor boy looked mortified. It all came back to him, shit. He really said that to you? Drunkenly no less?

“I’m-I’m so sorry, genuinely. I was drunk and wasn't thinking and I should've expressed myself in a better way! I'll make it up to you! We can forget I said it or-” he rambles on.

“Did you mean it? Do you still feel the same way?” you stare at him anxiously, waiting for an answer.

“Do I-what?” he stares dubiously “Of course I do! How could I not? I meant every word I swear.” he takes your hands in his. This is all happening in a corner booth of a run-down diner, by the way. How romantic.

“Can I kiss you now?” he says, sincerely. Remus Lupin wants to kiss you, what a dream.

“Mhm,” you nod leaning over the table already. He laughs, shaking his head, then winces as his headache is coming back. You chuckle a little, it’s endearing in some odd way. He meets you halfway, putting a hand on your cheek and rubbing small circles with his thumb. His lips meet yours softly, just barely brushing over yours before you take the notion to deepen it. He smiles into the kiss, grabbing your face with both hands now. You break away after a while, smiling and on the verge of giggling like a schoolgirl.

“I think I didn't do it right,” he says tucking hair behind your ear "Maybe I'm still a little bit drunk," a knowing smirk ghosted his mouth.

“Oh yeah?” you question him.

“Yeah,” he nods “Can I try again?” a kiss “and again?” another “and again?” one last for good measure.

#remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #young remus x reader #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #marauders #marauders fluff #marauders fic #remus my babygirl #marauders era

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gravestrain · 11 months

Text

we don't have to talk about it; b. boeser

Well I wasn't sure if this would be done in time, but it is and it is probably the most proud I have ever been of a piece of writing I've made. I did not get a perfect bingo but I chose trade angst, friends to lovers, playlists as a love language, "it's always going to be you," and summer romance. This is some sickly sweet soulmates fluff accompanied by some sickly sweet playlists. There is a bit of NSFW mentions towards the begin but no actual smut. For this reason, 18+ readers only please ☺️

Happy birthday sweet Demi @wyattjohnston! 💖 I am so lucky to be in this community with you and wanted to write you something in return for all you do for our community of hockeyblr writers.

I want to preface this by saying that this is probably a slightly unrealistic version of Brock, and that is okay. This is a work of fiction. Do I think Brock listens to boygenius? Definitely not. But for the sake of this story, he would. As always, I did some research for this fic and so the programs at both UND and UBC that Harper completes are real programs/degrees!

Also; this is the inspiration picture I had for Harper's tattoo (photo from Pinterest). If it isn't clear in the story, I imagine Harper to have a lot of tattoos. I imagine her having a lot of small tattoos all over her body. Additionally, I tried my best to give Harper no other physical descriptors other than her having tattoos, so you all have the freedom to imagine her in any way that you possibly could want to, which I think is a beautiful thing. She/her pronouns are used. 2.6k words plus 3 small playlists ☺️

~~~~~~~

"We don't have to talk about it," Harper whispered to Brock as she slipped out from under his arm, the warm covers forcefully removed from his body. Brock shuddered at the implications of that.

His best friend. His lifeline, his biggest supporter. Somehow, he had ended up in bed with her, swollen lips and hair astray. He wondered if it meant absolutely everything to her, the way it did to him. He wondered if she would lay up for days, trying to forget the way her lips felt on his, the smell of her hair, the curl of her fingers around his.

"He's just lost," Harper told her best friend Amelie that weekend over cocktails. She was convinced that Amelie's eyes were going to pop out of her head when Harper whispered to her that she had ended up in bed with her childhood best friend. "Harper, I don't know how you can say that. It's your best friend, for Christ's sake. This isn't just anybody. Everyone in Vancouver is dying to get where you just were." Amelie ranted to Harper, trying to relay the implications of what the two of them had done. "Things between you two may never be the same." She exasperated and Harper rolled her eyes.

"Please, he is just overwhelmed. He feels very out of his element with the trade rumors and just wanted some safety and normalcy. It's not like it was romantic. Trust me, there was no aftercare or lit candles or rose petals." Harper sighed dramatically and Amelie tried to pretend like she believed her. Meanwhile, Harper tried to forget what it felt like when his fingers ghosted through her hair afterwards, when he brought her water and wiped her down gently. She tried to forget the way her heart beat out her chest at the way he held her afterwards. That she had to force him to let her go. Amelie shook her head and sipped her cocktail, wondering if Harper was foolish enough to think that she believed her.

Brock was avoiding Harper. That much was obvious. It would be more obvious if Harper wasn't doing the same thing to Brock. It had been a week since they slept together with no contact, probably the longest since their only real fight in freshman year of college when Brock left for an out of town game without saying bye to Harper. If Harper had known better when she slipped into bed after too many cocktails that night with Amelie, she would have stopped herself from opening one of her biggest secrets.

Harper had been making monthly playlists of Brock for as long as she could remember. In her Spotify, they go back to 2018. She thinks it was from the only time in their life when they were separated, when Harper was finishing her degree at UND and Brock was playing across the continent in Vancouver. It was a piece of her that she had always loved to do. It felt like a sacred part of their friendship, despite Brock knowing nothing about it.

If the amaretto sours weren't fogging her brain over, she would've done a double take at sending Brock her playlist titled "Brock: May 2023." But she didn't. She just sent it.

Brock was in bed, trying to fall asleep for the night when his ringtone for Harper went off. He shot up in bed, the reality of not talking to her for a week setting in. He scrambled for his phone, and found the playlist attached with a simple message: "I miss you." He was sure that she was out drinking with Amelie, just like they did one Saturday every month. With no judgement, he remembered that she had already gone out for their get together this month, but that was the last thing on his mind as he clicked on the playlist.

The playlist had a cover, just as all of hers did. A picture of Brock smiling wide after a game that he remembered her taking at the beginning of the month. He knew the ignoring was mutual, but his heart started to sink when he thought of just how much it could have been affecting her.

"I miss you more," he replied back without even clicking on the playlist. When he did, he found out that he didn't recognize many of the songs, but they would soon become the soundtrack to the rest of May for him. The dark screen of Spotify glared up at him, the tracks listed:

cool about it by boygenius

Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers

Radio by Lana Del Rey

Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

Labyrinth by Taylor Swift

I saw you in a dream by the Japanese House

Brock simply pressed play on the playlist and let it hum him to sleep, his heart constricting at the way that the songs related to them and how they made him feel.

~~~

Harper knew Brock like the back of her hand. She knew what made him smile and what made him front. She knew what made him feel proud and what bruised his ego. Naturally, she knew what kind of music he would like to listen to. And she knew that Brock had probably never willingly turned on a song from any of the artists that were featured on the May playlist. But she knew him. And she knew what he needed to hear.

So when he sent her a picture of the lyric "you know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back, just like that" from Labyrinth by Taylor Swift, she didn't flinch when she soon saw the caption that went with it: "how do you know exactly what I need to hear. I don't think I've ever related to a lyric more." She smiled at their affinity for each other. She was however surprised, when a Spotify link of his own came through.

Titled: Harper, May 2023.

not strong enough by boygenius

Cleopatra by the Lumineers

End of Beginning by Djo

Don't Give Up on Me by Zach Bryan

The Archer by Taylor Swift

"I see I've inspired a bit of your music taste," Harper responded with a cheeky smile. She was certain that he had never heard a boygenius song before she sent him one. "You see right through me," he responded back cheekily, her cheeks burning. Harper stared at the playlist in awe when she realized that he was in fact referring to The Archer. Before she could even think twice about it, she was drafting an email to her tattoo artist about getting the tattoo for "The Archer" that she had been wanting for months.

It seemed that a week after that conversation, with few in between, that Brock was also doing things before he could think twice about them. When he had started the trek home from his night out with the guys, they all did a double take when he asked Quinn to drop him at Harper's. He hadn't told anyone besides Petey about their sleeping together, but they could all tell that something was going on between the two childhood best friends.

"Are you sure that's a good idea bud?" Elias asked, clapping his hand on his best friend's shoulder. He knew the status of the friendship at that point and he could also recognize that Brock was beyond intoxicated. "Yeah, we're good now. Just a blip. She's expecting me." He smiled his most convincing smile at Elias and he seemed to fall for it. "Alright bud, well if she throws you out screaming give me or Quinner a call and we can take you back to your place?" He offered and Brock nodded, his feet carrying him quickly towards the door. At this point, Brock was eagerly trying to make his way to his best friend who he hadn't seen in weeks. It had now been almost three weeks since they had seen each other. Brock was soon to be heading home to Minnesota, and Harper would soon be following him. He would wait until the school year was over so he could help Harper pack up and move back home.

It was never Harper's plan to follow Brock to Vancouver, but once she followed him to UND, it seemed inevitable. It became glaringly obvious that the two of them could simply not live without each other. When Harper graduated with her bachelors in Communication Sciences and Disorders, she had already been accepted into the University of British Columbia's Masters program for Audiology and Speech Sciences. After two years in this program, Harper graduated, and got her dream job as a speech pathologist in a high school not far from her apartment.

When she first let Brock know of her plans, he was living with a teammate. He insisted that he could get out of the lease and that he wanted to live with her so that she wasn't by herself. Harper had already found another girl in the same program study as her that she would live in a nicer apartment with. She was lucky that she never had to worry about money. Both of her parents had good paying jobs, and they always supported her choice to be with Brock in Vancouver, seeing as Harper's mom's best friend is Brock's mom.

Brock made the familiar descent up to the 4th floor to Harper's apartment, typing in the code and letting himself in. It was just past 1. Harper liked to stay up late, and her roommate Carmen had gone back home to Edmonton for the summer, meaning he knew he was okay sneaking in this late.

"Harps?" He called out, heading towards her bedroom. He slowly opened the door and found her laying on her side in her bed. Her bedside lamp was still on, letting him know that she had just dozed off and hadn't actually fallen asleep for the night. Brock's eyes furrowed in on the angry red skin that lined the obviously new tattoo that she was sporting on the back of her left upper arm. A bow and arrow, with ivy detailing now adorned her arm. Small cursive words were also laced within the bow. Brock couldn't make them out from where he was standing, but he didn't have to to know that they were something from the Taylor Swift song. His heart constricted at the mere thought of that, that something that they had shared amongst each other was now permanently on her body. It would be with her for the rest of her life.

As the soft pads of his fingertips reached out to touch it, Harper shot awake, startled by the sudden touch. "Just me, honey," he rasped out. "You scared the shit out of me," she gasped, rolling over to face him but careful not to put too much pressure on the new ink she was sporting. "What are you doing here?" She mumbled, eyes squinting to adjust to the lamp light.

"I can't do this anymore," he sighed as he sat on the end of her bed. "I love you, Harper. And I want everyone to know it. I want you to know it." He confessed. Her eyes widened, sitting up to move towards him. "You're drunk." She muttered, not making eye contact with him. She knew how this would end. She had imagined it so many times, a scenario where she was able to be with her best friend, as she had wanted for so long. But they all ended the same way all of her past relationships ended: heartbreak, agony, trauma.

"I am, but I know I love you more than I could ever begin to express. You are the center of my world. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved." His hands were now holding her own, his soft eyes pleading with hers as he reached out to touch her palm. "It's always going to be you, Harper. In every universe. Just tell me you love me and everything will be okay." His blue eyes stared into her own with more passion than she could ever comprehend. Tears welled up in her eyes, and all she could think to do was lean in and kiss Brock with all the love she had had for him since she was 16 years old.

Now at 26, as she held onto him, his steady heartbeat anchoring her to sleep under her ear, she wondered if it could have always been so easy, to love her best friend whole heartedly, and that he would love her the exact same way back. When she felt his fingertips brushing her shoulders gently, a soft hum of "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac coming from his lips, a late addition to her "Brock: May 2023" playlist, she realized she was wrong all along. Being with Brock would never lead her to heartbreak, agony, and trauma. It was Brock. Her Brock. Gentle, warm, soft as a blanket Brock. When he wrapped his arms around her, and she finally felt her lips on his once again, she realized her doubts were always just that: doubts. And with a sweep of his thumb across her cheek, they both pulled back, looking at each other and wondering if they'd feel happiness like this forever.

_____

3 months later

"You guys are absolutely disgusting," Quinn grumbled in fake agony at Brock and Harper who were cuddled up on the couch outside on the patio, watching the sunset at Brock's family lake house. "At least you don't have to share a wall with them!" Petey groaned, causing Brock to shove his shoulder. "You two should just be happy that you don't have to share a room anymore." He tried to deflect but it only caused more bickering from the two, finger pointing about who snored louder and how last summer Quinn took one too many turns sleeping on the bed and Petey had to sleep on the floor an extra night.

Harper snuggled deeper into Brock's shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. She pulled the blanket up to puddle around her hips: Brock always ran warm, and she always ran cold, so the blanket never came anywhere near him. She reached up to brush a small piece of hair out of Brock's face as she chucked and Elias and Quinn's antics. There was nothing like enjoying the lake with Brock and their loved ones.

Of course she had spent countless days here with Brock. Many people had come through the front door and experienced the magic of the Boeser family lake house and all the memories and warmth that comes with it. But there was truly nothing like this feeling of warmth, joy, the feeling of home. She wondered if she would ever be as happy as she is in this current moment, this current summer.

When she looked up at the man next to her, the man of her dreams, she knew she would always be that happy. He was mid sentence when she couldn't resist the burning urge to kiss her lover on the cheek, leaning up to snuggle into his neck, her cold hands reaching under his sweatshirt, causing him to shiver.

"Could you guys be any more disgustingly cute? Makes me sick," Quinn muttered, taking a sip of his beer. "Yes," the two of them muttered simultaneously. Quinn and Elias just laughed, shaking their hands at the response. They knew the answer, and it wasn't that they really minded. They loved Harper and loved that Brock was happy and not embarrassingly pining after his best friend anymore.

Harper began humming along with "Sad Songs for Sad People" by Megan Moroney, one of her favorites for the month. Now that they were dating, the playlists were still made monthly, which some slight changes. They were now titled "Brock and Harper" with the month and year accompanying it, their two profile pictures snuggled up next to each other at the top. The cover photos were now pictures of the perfect couple.

At this point it was Brock who couldn't resist placing a soft kiss on his lover's lips. As they cuddled together, they both knew that they could never replicate the first summer at the lake as an official couple, but as long as they were together, the happiness, the magic, the joy of that first summer would last forever.

Brock and Harper, August 2023

Sad Songs for Sad People by Megan Moroney

All of the Girls You Loved Before by Taylor Swift

Grapejuice by Harry Styles

Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves

Since We're Alone by Niall Horan

Lady May by Tyler Childers

Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift

I Hate Love Songs by Kelsea Ballerini

Bad for Business by Sabrina Carpenter

Starting Over by Chris Stapleton

#Demi's birthday bingo #brock boeser #brock boeser x fem oc #brock boeser imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #vancouver Canucks imagine #fem oc

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kristailine · 2 months

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"Jun doesnt look like shes 40!"

"Shes so dolled up, it makes her look uncanny and unattractive!"

"Jun's render is the most unrealistic 40 year old face"

Have any of you yappers considered the fact that Jun has always been baby-faced? LIKE DEADASS what do you guys want her to even look like?!

This image was literally her as a 22 year old, and she could easily be mistaken as 16 years old with that face. You know why? BECAUSE SHES BABY FACED AND EAST ASIAN

Yeah! Mindblowing really...

Yappers always got something to say about the women's faces, and while I do get that people want diversity, representation, and a little bit realism... Why is it always something about the women's faces?! (ESPECIALLY JUN'S?!)

Like wow, certainly Tekken men and their buff ass steroid swelling muscles ARE SOOOOOO REALISTIC.

Let's not even talk about Lee Chaolan who probably outdoes these yappers' face cards at age 50 as well

Why is the criticism always on the women's faces, why not point out how unrealistic THE WHOLE CAST OF MEN IN THE GAME LOOK LIKE AS WELL?

EDIT: TO ADD. IM MAD ABOUT THIS BECAUSE IF TEKKEN EVEN MAKES HER "REALISTIC" TO HOW A 40 YEAR OLD WOULD LOOK LIKE, THERES ALWAYS GONNA BE YAPPERS AS WELL WHOS GONNA TALK SHIT LIKE SHE LOOKS SO OLD FOR THE GAME AND WHAT NOT LIKE GO TO RETIREMENT HOMES GRANNY KIND OF INSULTS.

but literally whats new. Even fictional women are held at such a standard wherein you cant look too young or youll look weird, and you cant look too old because youll look ugly. LIKE DAMN GIVE WOMEN A FUCKING BREAK

Okay im done yapping

#im sorry i literally search indirects on reddit about jun almost everyday and there hasnt been one single week of me not seeing a comment #about how jun looks so unrealistic and the ugliest woman face in the game #IM GOING TO BED I JUST NEED TO LET THIS OUT #NO ONE EVEN TRY TO CONTEST ME ON THE COMMENTS BC IM NOT HEARING IT IM SORRY IM THAT PETTY ABT THIS

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claymorexpunisher · 6 months

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Liberación (Ch.10/?) (18+ Fic)

Summary: Harper and Drew started Liberacion as a way to heal. And it slowly became bigger than they could've have ever imagined...

Chapter Summary: Tammie gives Harper the push she needs in order to lay her cards out on the table with Damian. Well… in her own way at least.

Main Pairings: Drew McIntyre/OFC, Damian Priest/OFC, Roman Reigns/OFC.

Tags: 18+, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink, kink negotiation, consensual kink, consensual non-consent, BDSM, knife play, light blood play, bratting, hair-pulling, breeding kink, and more.

DISCLAIMER/WARNING: This is purely a work of fiction. I try to do proper research whenever I write pieces that have to do with BDSM/Kink, but alas, I am not perfect. For fiction's sake, some aspects of BDSM/Kink will be a bit unrealistic, though I know that the foundation for these types of connections and dynamics to function properly takes time... regardless I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2,494

~Harper's POV~

~PAST~

“Fuck…” I whimpered as Liv’s relentless tongue worked my clit.

She swirled and swirled it around before she took my clit into her mouth and sucked with just the right amount of pressure.

Just as my hips flew off the bed, I heard the blow dryer cut off in the bathroom.

“Seriously?” Rhea called out; one brow cocked as she peeked into the suite. “I leave you girls on your own for two fucking seconds…” Rhea chuckled, and she shook her head as my body writhed with every stroke of Liv’s mouth on those most sensitive parts between my legs.

“It was way more than two seconds, Ripl- oh my fucking god do that again please!” I moaned as Liv’s fingers stroked my sweet spot as her mouth continued its sweet assault on my clit.

I watched her leer hungrily at my chest and I smirked at her in a silent invitation.

Still, much to my dismay, Rhea stalked over to the side of the bed, and she pulled the sheets fully off of us.

I whimpered in protest and glared at her grumpily.

“It’ll just take two seconds, Mommy. I promise.” Liv purred as she smiled up at Rhea’s amused features before her mouth went back to work.

I nodded.

“Yeah. Don’t be such a party pooper- mierda!” My words broke off an orgasm ripped through me exactly two seconds later and my back arched off the bed once again.

Liv looked mighty pleased with herself as she swiped a hand across her mouth, her tempting and plump lips now the color of crushed strawberries.

“See?” She giggled, smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah, okay, smartass… I’m next.” Rhea grumbled as she side-eyed Liv as the two of us cackled.

~PRESENT~

Distracted didn’t even begin to describe how I’d be the last few days.

Thoughts of Damian fucking Priest and what could be consumed my every waking second and… well, I was beginning to get on my own nerves.

I found myself once again drowning myself with work- even work I could have easily handed over to Tammie, Cat, or any other coworker.

Anything to distract myself from the alarming emptiness I was starting to feel whenever Damian wasn’t around at the club.

Or anything to stop me from doing something really fucking stupid like- calling Damian or texting him and telling him I missed him.

As much as I didn’t want to, we just always seemed to gravitate toward one another. Whenever he was here, we were never too far apart and we’d either eat lunch at the club’s dining hall, my office, or we went out for dinner if it was a particularly long day of being cooped inside the club.

It was so fucking stupid.

We were just messing around….

And yes, he made me feel at ease. Safe….

Like my every thought mattered- fuck’s sake, if that doesn’t let me know what a number Jason did on me, I don’t know what does.

‘Like my every thought mattered’?... No jodas, Harper… the bar is so fucking low.

Yet still, anytime Damian so much as laid those playful and warm eyes on me and the more we got to know each other I… I wanted to sink into them and see where things could go.

God, just the sound of his voice filled my chest with feelings that I was way too fucking afraid to put my finger on.

And it didn’t help that he just never pushed farther than I was willing to let him. As much as I

But there was no way I’d let myself go there again.

As warm and kind and attentive and gentle as Damian was, I couldn’t bring myself to voice what I wanted from him.

What I needed.

Voicing those thoughts would be like betraying myself and the promise I made to keep myself safe.

But I just. couldn’t.

So, my job and avoiding the problem- the problem being Damian- was the only solution I could come up with…

I was supposed to be getting ready for one of our monthly themed nights at Liberacion.

Tonight, it was Lace or Leather Night, which, you probably guessed it, means that everyone could arrive dressed clad in their best lace or leather outfits.

I chose a gorgeous sapphire blue and black number and despite my scattered brain, I was super excited to see what the rest of my girlfriends and coworkers would choose for tonight.

Themed nights weren’t much different to the rest of the nights except for the dress code being mandatory.

The drinking limit if people were planning to play was still 2 drinks max and no sex was allowed, neither were scenes outside of the closed off/rented areas.

The soundproof dance floor was to the right of the dining hall so that the patrons could talk and just be at peace away from the loudness of the thumping music if they wanted to.

But of course, security was packed throughout the club in case anybody tried to skirt around the club’s rules.

“Well, holy shit. You look hot!” Tammie exclaimed and I smiled as I took my spot next to her up at the top, looking down at the patrons laughing and mingling as I nursed a glass of ginger ale.

Cat was dealing with check-ins and check-outs tonight.

“So do you!” I replied as we clinked our glasses together.

I just knew Tammie’s husband Johnny was salivating for her in her skintight leather outfit. Underneath the dim lighting I couldn’t tell if it was blue or black, but it looked like a second skin on her curvy body.

Not just with our clothes, but there were tons of people with their fangs, wings and claws out. Some fully shifted werewolves and hybrids letting their hair down and just having a good time.

Zero judgements.

This was home to me.

(not my photo)

I watched in my peripheral as she softly sniffed the air.

“Is that… chocolate chip cookies?” she asked, bewildered, as if we didn’t serve snacks to the patrons as per their request.

“Harper… are yo-“Tammie broke into a fit of laughter at my guilty expression.

“Could you be any more obvious? Smelling like his favorite snack?” She exclaimed, laughing harder the redder my face got.

“Okay, relax, pendeja. I love chocolate chip cookies with milk too. He ain’t special.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I took another sip of ginger ale to avoid her knowing smirk.

“He didn’t come say hi?” I whispered, but of course she heard me.

She looked at me with such pity that I had to look back towards the dance floor, away from her sad eyes.

“What do you expect, muchacha?” Tammie said softly in her lilting Texan accent, leaning in slightly so that only I could hear her words of advice. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you. And neither does he, that much is obvious. And it’s okay that you’re unsure of what you want. But you can’t play this hot and cold game and then get upset when he backs off. Talk to him and tell him that you’re confused and unsure. Then take the time apart to actual figure yourself out and to figure out what it is that you’re really after. ‘I’m not sure,’ is a good enough answer sometimes, babe. At least it’s an answer.” Tammie shrugged.